#looked it up this has happened to like 7 of them

[diushek]

The Shen Qingqiu who has a strong qi deviation and becomes a child of 7, 8 years old? but he talks about weird things like Pokemon, TV, internet, chocolate cookies, his brothers and where they are and where is his mom.

At this moment, Luo Binghe has already fallen into the Abyss- so, there is a bit of relief about Shen Qingqiu not mourning, but that child is a terror of nature. He goes barefoot everywhere, he has no decorum in his dress, he talks nonstop as if he had a sugar overdose- he says that Liu Qingge is pretty like a Barbie, no matter who the hell that Barbie-jie is (Liu Qingge even gets offended, has he been compared to some COURTESAN?), that Qi Qingqi scares him if she does THAT look (and finally challenge her to flex her arm muscles just to hang from them, and she is PROUD), he rejects Yue Qingyuan's hugs by saying that his clothes are ugly and stiff, but then only accepts cuddles because he says that he has puppy eyes and it's not fair. He tries to flee or attack when Mu Qingfang comes near, saying he smells like a bad weird doctor, and only lets him come closer when Mu Qingfang promises that there will be no needles involved (he also talks a lot about something called a UCI, weird operations - how the hell HAD HIS HEART BEEN REPLACED? what the fuck was a pacemaker - and how horrible hospital food is). And definitely NONE OF THEM can deal with the demanding, loud, complainer, critic, easily bored chaos that is that child.

The only one who seems to know what the hell to do with that little Shen Qingqiu? Of course, Shang Qinghua.

He sings to him in an unknown language lively songs to which the child responds by squealing with joy and following the melodies, they talk about something called Pokemon for hours, he apologizes for not having chocolate cookies (he offers him milk candies as compensation), he says they have no internet reception up there and what's the point of having a TV if they don't have good shows?? Entertains the boy for HOURS telling him about monsters and plants, both clearly made-up stories and real stories from that world. He makes him run chasing flying folded paper to exhaust their energy, and even cooks his meals making meals that none of the other Peak Lords have ever seen (much to the chagrin of disciples Ming Fan and Ning Yingying - they also want to spoil little Shizun!!! But the child only makes ugly faces when he sees white rice!!!)

All the Peak Lords are perplexed who happens to be the only one who knows what to do after all. Apparently and thank goodness, it is temporary; soon Shen Qingqiu's qi will circulate normally and his body will return to adulthood as well as his mind. In the meantime, the sect basically leaves him in Shang Qinghua's hands - although they visit him almost daily.

And Mobei Jun, who sees much of all that because the child Shen Qingqiu - or Yuanyuan - does not leave the side of his spy no matter where he go or what he has to do, just think how much he wants to put babies in Qinghua. Many of them. He will find out how, and soon.

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, the anticipated chapter 4 of ‘Just Tired’! All of youse were very excited for this chapter so I hope it delivers what you want. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Just Tired - Part 4

Warnings: Manipulative relationship, swearing

Words: 3.9k

Melissa is putting dinner on the plates when Joe gets home. He walks into the kitchen and gives her a kiss before getting a beer from the fridge.

“Guess what? A couple friends are coming with us to the bar tomorrow to watch the game with us.” Joe says with a smile.

“It couldn’t have been just us?” Melissa asks him.

“Course not, watching the cowboys get their asses whooped is better with other people there with you.” Joe tells her and she hands him one of the plates.

“I guess.” Melissa tells him as they make it to the table and they start eating. “Oh, I’m getting a dyslexic kid in my class this year. I’m gonna be able to help a little girl the same way I was helped.” She excitedly tells him.

“Cool.” He tells her, completely disinterested. Melissa’s smile immediately turns into a frown and she just continues eating.

Melissa wakes up the next morning around 7 and she gets up and gets ready for the day. She’s writing a grocery list while eating some scrambled eggs and bacon when Joe comes down.

“So I was thinking we can head to the bar for 6.” He tells her and she nods.

“Sounds good.” She says and continues eating.

They get through the weekly chores and groceries before Melissa hops in the shower around 3. She puts on her jersey, and then she goes downstairs and goes to reheat the leftovers while Joe is finishing up getting ready. They both eat and then head to the bar and they get there just after 6. They order two beers and then his friends show up. Melissa decides to just sit in a booth alone while watching the game. 20 minutes into the game she orders another beer.

“Melissa?” She hears and turns around to see you there, wearing an Eagles jersey.

“Hey Y/n.” She says and then turns to the bartender and orders another beer. “Are you here to watch the game as well?” She asks and you nod.

“I came with a…sort of friend… but she’s currently making out with a man right now.” You say and point to them.

“I came here with Joe and he invited his friends.” She tells you and you look to see Joe there, having a drink and having fun with his friends.

“And you look like you’re having fun being here.” You tell her playfully and she smiles and then takes a sip. “Can I get some nachos please?” You ask the bartender and he nods before getting your order. “Thank you.” You say as you get your order and pay. “Want some?” You ask Melissa and she smiles before taking a chip. You hear some cheering happening and see the Eagles scored another touchdown.

“So what makes that girl a sort of friend?” Melissa asks you.

“I went on a date with her two months ago, there was zero connection, and to be nice I said we could be friends. And many people say this but don’t actually mean it. So I was surprised when she just randomly asked me if I wanted to come here today to watch the game. I hope she just forgets about me after today.” You explain and she nods as she takes another chip.

“Melissa, did you see that touchdown!?!?” Melissa hears and Joe comes up to her.

“Ya, of course I saw it.” She says and fakes a smile.

“Who are you?” Joe asks you as he sees that you and Melissa were talking.

“I’m Y/n, I’m Melissa's coworker.” You tell him politely.

“Melissa has never mentioned a coworker named Y/n.” He says as he looks between you and Melissa.

“Well it’s my first year there, I teach second grade as well.” You explain.

“Melissa, you don’t talk to newbies.”

“We teach the same grade, Joe, I’m gonna have to talk to her sometimes.” She tells him. Joe looks at you and you seem to be looking at Melissa with a smile while Melissa is taking a sip of her beer. He then gets Melissa to turn around and he kisses her on the lips and you look down, disappointed. “You never kissed me in public before.” She says to him and he shrugs.

“Felt like it.” He says. “By the way, one of the guys suggested that the next game could be at our house.” He says. “I think that’s a great idea so I said yes.”

“What? No. Why does it have to be at our place?” She asks.

“Come on, don’t be so controlling.” He says.

“I’m not, but you didn’t ask me first if I’m ok with that.” She tells him and then Melissa sees you watching out of the corner of her eye. “Alright, I’m sorry.” She says and then he gives her a kiss before going back to his friends. You see Melissa let out a sigh and you order 2 shots of vodka.

“Here. Looks like you need it.” You say as you hand her one. She looks at you and you offer her a smile before she takes it, cheers with you and then takes the shot.

“Thanks.” She says softly.

“He seems nice.” You tell her sarcastically and she looks down. “Why did you apologise?”

“Because I told him no and I shouldn’t have.” She says.

“You didn’t do anything wrong though, you didn’t need to apologise. He agreed to have it at your house without asking you first, you have a right to say no.” You tell her sternly and she looks at you and sighs.

She then orders 2 more shots and gives you one. You both take the shot and then you continue eating the nachos as you occasionally sip your alcoholic drink. An hour later and you order another pair of shots for you as you see her keep looking at Joe with sad eyes.

“Hey, forget him for now. He brought his friends with him and isn’t thinking about you right now.” You tell her bluntly and hand her the shot and she cheers with you before quickly taking the shot.

“You know, you’re more fun than I thought you’d be.” She tells you, slurring a bit.

“Really? I think I’m quite fun, even at school. I mean I don’t take anything seriously, you said so yourself.” You tell her and she chuckles. You then order more nachos and some water to help balance out the alcohol. “You know I still don’t know what you see in him, I still think he’s an ass.” You tell her and she shrugs.

“I fell in love with him, simple as that.” She says and you nod.

“Do you still love him?” You suddenly ask with the help of liquid courage.

“Of course I do, I-if I didn’t love him then I wouldn’t be with him.” She tells you, and it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than you. The Eagles then score another touchdown and Melissa sees Joe high-fiving his friends and cheering. You feel bad for her in that moment and without thinking, you grab a hold of her hand. She immediately gasps and pulls her hand back and looks at you confused. “What was that for?” She asks you, she isn’t angry, just confused.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just feel bad that your husband is having fun with his friends and leaving you alone.” You tell her and she looks down.

“I don’t get much physical touch, or apologies.” She tells you while still looking down.

“What? He’s able to resist keeping his hands off of you?” You ask her, surprised and confused. “If I had a girl as hot as you then I wouldn’t be able to stop touching her.” You tell her and she looks up at you and sees you’re being genuine.

“Thank you.” She tells you softly and you nod with a smile. You both don’t notice that Joe is watching the interaction and furrows his eyebrows.

The game ends a couple hours later and you can tell Melissa is tipsy, maybe even drunk from about 5 beers and 3 vodka shots.

“Ready to go Mel?” Joe asks her and Melissa looks at you with a smile.

“I had fun, I’ll see you Monday.” She tells you and you nod.

“See you Monday, Melissa.” You say and smile back at her. You watch as her and Joe walk out and you see Joe squeeze her ass and you give a disgusted face at Joe being like that to her in public.

Melissa and Joe get home and Melissa stumbles a bit into him as she giggles. He then pushes her up against the door.

“Oof.” Melissa says and grabs onto his arms.

“Were you flirting with that girl?” He asks her and she looks at him.

“Who?”

“Y/n.” He simply says and she shakes her head.

“No, we were just hanging out.” She says and gets close to his face. Joe then picks her up and gets her to put her legs around him. He then kisses her roughly and she lets out a squeak before wrapping her arms around him. He then brings her into the bedroom while stripping her clothes off.

Melissa spends Sunday morning with a slight hangover and then she goes downstairs around noon when she doesn’t feel like the sun is blasting in her eyes.

“I see you’re alive.” Joe tells her a bit loud and she groans.

“Not so loud please.” She tells him and he chuckles.

“You drank quite a bit with that new teacher.” He tells her.

“Ya, we had a couple shots.” She says and sits down on the couch beside him.

“Do you remember everything that happened yesterday?” He asks her and she nods.

“Of course, from the moment we got there right up until we had sex.” She tells him and he nods.

On Monday, you pull up to her place on your bike and you put it in the backyard before knocking on her door.

“Hey Y/n.” She says with a smile and swings her keys around her finger as she walks up to her car.

“You look good.” You tell her as you see a low cut pink top and leather pants.

“Thanks.” She says and both of you get in the car. She decides to listen to music today and you watch as she sings along happily.

“You’re in a good mood today.” You tell her.

“I get to meet my little eagles today.” She tells you and you smile.

“Of course you call them little eagles.” You say and she winks at you before turning the music up and you both sing along. You pull up to the parking lot and you already see some students waiting outside.

“They only show up early on the first day.” She tells you and you nod before walking up to them. About 15 minutes later, you’re talking to Janine and Jacob when someone calls out your name.

“Looking for a Ms. Y/l/n.” This man says and you think he works in the front office.

“Yes? That’s me.” You say and he looks at you before telling 4 kids that you’re their teacher. “Hey kiddos. I’m Ms. Y/l/n and I’m going to be your teacher this year.” You tell them with a big smile and you don’t notice Melissa staring at you. “You know, for me, second grade was much better than first grade.” You tell them and then 3 other kids are brought to you.

“Hello my little eagles.” You hear Melissa say and you look at her. “I think I’ve seen some of you here since kindergarten.” She tells them. Melissa then checks her list and sees that she’s got all her students. “Alright my little eagles, ready to see the classroom and pick your seats?” She asks them and they nod before she goes inside and she passes you by and smiles at you.

You get 13 more students handed to you and then you see you got all 20 of your students.

“Alright, line up and let’s get inside and in the air conditioning.” You tell your students and they line up. You bring them inside and lead them to the classroom. “Alright, and this will be your classroom for the year.” You say and they go inside. “Pick whatever seat you want.” You tell them and they all pick a seat. “I’m just going to do attendance first to be absolutely sure.” You tell them and then start going through the names. You go through all of them and realise you’re missing one but you have 20 names on the list and 20 students. “Who did I not call out?” You ask and you see a student raise their hand. “And what’s your name?”

“Amaya.” She says and you check your list and don’t see her there.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you but I don’t think you’re supposed to be in my class.” You tell her and she shakes her head. “Do you know where you’re supposed to be?” You ask her.

“In Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” She says and looks down.

“Why are you sad about that? Mrs. Schemmenti is an amazing teacher and person.”

“My friend isn’t in her class.” She tells you and she points to her friend.

“I’m sorry about that but I do have to bring you back.” You tell her and then step out of your classroom for a second. “Mr Johnson, perfect, can you watch my class for a minute, I need to bring one to Mrs. Schemmenti’s class.” You tell him and he nods before you go back into your classroom. “Ok Amaya, let’s go.” You say and she walks up to you and she takes your hand. You walk across the hall to Melissa’s classroom and you knock on the door. Melissa opens it a few seconds later and smiles when she sees you.

“Ms. Y/l/n, I was just about to come see you. I have one of your students.” She tells you.

“What a coincidence cause I have one of yours. This is Amaya.” You tell her and she looks at her.

“Welcome to my class Amaya, why don’t you go find an empty seat. Gracie can you come up here with your things?” She tells one of the students. Amaya goes to take a seat and Melissa looks at you. “It’s not a coincidence, the two of them agreed on a swap to be with their friends.” She tells you and you hum.

“I wonder why I never thought to do that when I was their age.” You tell her and she snorts, then a young girl comes up to you both.

“Gracie, this is Y/l/n, your teacher this year.” She tells the student and Gracie looks at you.

“Sorry about swapping places on you.” She tells you both.

“That’s alright but we gotta go to the classroom, I left the janitor in charge.” You tell the student and then you grab her hand. “See you later Ms. Schemmenti.” You tell her and then walk back to your class. “Alright Gracie, go and find your seat.” You tell her and she finds the empty desk and sits down. “Alright class, how about we start by going around the room and saying your name? I’ll start. My name is Y/n Y/l/, but you can call me Ms. Y/l/n.” You tell them and you miss Melissa glancing at you while interacting with your students.

You get your class to line up a few hours later so you can bring them to the caf for lunch. You and Melissa end up bringing them at the same time so you both just walk your classes together.

“How was your morning newbie?” She asks you as you both walk to the caf with your classes.

“Good so far. Did a few welcome games, did some drawings and even story time.” You tell her and she smiles.

“That’s good.” She says and you both reach the caf and drop your students off. You make sure that everyone has a lunch before you and Melissa both head to the lounge.

“You know we did a couple of name games and I still can’t remember anyone’s name.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“Give it a week or two of having to tell people to quiet down and you’ll know everyone’s names.” She says and you smile.

“Good to know. How was your morning?” You ask her.

“Kids are so excited to see their friends again and not too keen on paying attention. So it’s been good.” She says and smiles. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for showing me a good time on Saturday.” She tells you and you shrug.

“You know I shouldn’t have had to. Your husband should have included you since you went together.” You tell her and she hums.

“Well whether he should have or not, I appreciate that you did.” She tells you and you nod.

“Anytime.”

“Careful, or I might take you up on that.” She says playfully as you reach the break room.

“Well it’s good that I really do mean it then.” You say and she chuckles. You both enter the break room and everyone stares at the fact that you both seem to be having, not just a civil conversation, but a playful one.

“How on earth did you make friends with Melissa in a week?” Jacob asks as you sit down.

“Not friends, just acquaintances.” You say and turn to Melissa. “Actually, is it safe to call you an acquaintance, Melissa?” You ask her and she turns to look at you and thinks about it.

“I mean you do know my favourite colour so ya, I guess you could call us that.” She tells you with a smile before turning back around and talks with Barb.

Everyone gets up to go get their class as lunchtime is ending and you and Melissa end up walking beside each other.

“So any plans for the afternoon with your class?” You ask her.

“Yep, I’m going to give them a paper of animals and get them to name them.” She tells you.

“Awww, that sounds cute. I loved learning about all the animals in school.” You tell her and she shakes her head at you.

“You really are an enigma.” She says and you shrug.

“I did warn you about that.” You say as you both reach your classes outside. “Ok class, we’re gonna be spelling numbers and then we’ll play a game after.” You tell them and they cheer at the game part. “Amaya, back to Schemmenti’s class.” You tell her as you see her sneaking in your line with her friend.

“Nice catch.” Melissa says to you before she brings her class inside and you smile.

At the end of the day, you’re helping a student with their laces and then stand up and their mother comes up to get them.

“Sorry about that, still teaching him laces. Probably should have gotten Velcro.” She tells you and you smile.

“Not a problem, he’s gotta learn sometime right?” You say and the parent smiles and nods.

“I suppose so.” She says.

“My name is Janice, and I guess you're my son’s teacher.” She says and you shake her head.

“That I am, I’m Ms. Y/l/n.” You say and then say goodbye to your student and him and the parent leaves.

“Wow, you seem to just catch everyone’s attention.” Melissa says from her door frame.

“Must be my awkward personality.” You say and she chuckles.

“Must be.” She says and says goodbye to the last student. She then goes to grab her things and locks her door before turning towards you. “Ready to go?” She asks and you nod.

“Yep.” You say as you lock your door.

“So how do you feel after your first day?” She asks you.

“I feel great. My students are amazing and completely adorable. And I seem to have caught my coworker’s attention enough that she considers us acquaintances.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well you met my husband and you know my favourite colour, isn’t that acquaintance status information?” She says and you laugh.

“I guess so.” You tell her as you reach the parking lot. You turn to look at her at the same time she does and you both lock eyes and you see a certain shine in them that you haven’t before. “I love the colour of your eyes.” You say in a complete trance and her breath hitches. You then snap out of your trance just as quickly as you entered it and realise what you said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I mean, you do have beautiful eyes but… I’m just digging a bigger hole for myself.” You ramble and Melissa just laughs.

“You’re adorable.” She says and she unlocks the car and doesn’t realise the effect she has on you when she said that to you. “Thank you for the compliment.” She adds as you both get in.

“Well you’re very easy to compliment.” You say and she looks at you and sees you’re being genuine.

“Why do you give me lots of compliments?” She asks you with a tilt of her head.

“Because I want to.” You simply say and she looks at you. “And with the way you look, you have definitely earned them.” You add and you miss the blush on her face as she turns to face the road. Melissa drives you both to her place and you go and get your bike. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tell her as you put your helmet on. “And I will survive this year and come back next year.” You say with a smile.

“We’ll see about that.” She tells you and you walk up to her as an idea pops in your head.

“Well how about we make a bet?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Well you certainly have my attention.” She says.

“That was about as far as I got. I honestly didn’t know if you’d agree to it.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“I never pass up a bet.” She tells you as she’s leaning on her car. “How about if you don’t come back next year or don’t survive the year then you take me to a candy store and I can get whatever I want.” She tells you and think about it.

“Ok sounds good. But if I win then I get to film you saying that I was right and you were wrong and also seal it with a kiss on the cheek.” You tell her and you hold your hand out. You see her think about it for a second before shaking your hand, sealing the bet.

“Deal.” She says and you wink at her before turning around and walk to your bike. You glance at her before getting on your bike and bike to your place.

Melissa watches as you get further and further away before she lets out a sigh. She then feels a slight happiness near her heart, one that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She lets out a breath after she realises what the feeling is and then looks at where you just were a minute ago. “Fuck.”

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[iminyourwallsbabe]

Yk what I feel like I haven't yapped about CaitVi enough and that's a disservice to my fellow sapphics so this word vomit is for you girl kissers out there

Okay so it goes without saying that CaitVi is kind of divisive. Some people love it 100%, some people think it could've worked better under different circumstances, and some people outright hate it, all viewpoints I understand. I'm the type of person who appreciates it for what it is.

I think the first thing I wanna touch on is the idea that their ending was supposed to be a happy one. I don't think it was. Honestly, I think it was more of a pause than anything. You weren't supposed to go "oh yay good for them", you were supposed to wonder what happens now. The end gives us, and the characters, an opportunity to just get our shit together and move on. So much just happened, there was little time to really, deeply think about it all. I'd like to think that they did work their shit out post-canon. However, I can see why people would think they wouldn't have.

I'm gonna go reverse chronological here. So one of the more glaring issues is whether or not Caitlyn switching sides was authentic and came from a place of genuine understanding of her mistakes. In my opinion, not quite. She was getting there but it would take the final battle for it to really set it. I said this in another post, but when she's sitting there before Ambessa, gun to the back of her head and knife in her side, she looks terrified. Obviously that shit is scary but it's more than that. Caitlyn is more afraid of dying than ever before, because if she died then, that would mean she had no way to fix what she had done. It was setting in just how badly she fucked up and now the entire world is at stake, and what can she do? Nothing. Think back to season 1 when her biggest gripe was not being allowed to do anything substantial or important. It's this again, just more extreme. She wanted to help people then, now she needs to and she can't.

And I think that's what she needed. She has never really been on the receiving end of the consequences of her actions. Not until then. As we've seen in the early parts of season 2, it weighs on her heavy when she thinks she's made a grave error. That's why she even started acting up in the first place. She's willing to abandon all of her morals and growth for the sake of remedying what she thinks she did. So with that in mind, I can imagine when she goes back to Vi, she feels the same if not worse because this time, what happened was actually her fault.

But now we need to talk about Vi and her place in all of this. One of many people's complaints is that Vi folds so easily when it comes to Caitlyn. And you're right, she folds like a fucking napkin but that's not just "oh I'm in love so I'm gonna do whatever for my girlfriend", it's more than that and has nothing to do with Caitlyn specifically. First of all, she has been stuck in Stillwater since she was a teen and hasn't seen the light of day in 7 years. MIND YOU, when she went to jail she was separated from her sister, who at that moment was her only living family member. OH YEAH DID WE FORGET THAT HER ENTIRE FAMILY DIED IN FRONT OF HER THAT SAME NIGHT? It is not a surprise to me at all that she clung to Caitlyn like saran wrap. That tends to happen when you're that fucking lonely. I'm of the belief that it could've been any other woman in the world instead of Caitlyn and she still would've acted the same. I also think that's part of the reason she joined the enforcers. Vi probably thought she was going to lose Caitlyn if she didn't. That doesn't really have anything to do with Caitlyn, that's an internal thing. Again though, are we really surprised that she'd get that desperate? But wait! There's more. After she does join and she tries to call Caitlyn out when she's done too much, it goes very wrong. It's at this point that some people wonder why she didn't just go back to Ekko instead of acting like she was all she had left. I need y'all to be so fr, you think Ekko would've been cool with that? And don't say "oh but he's so forgiving to Jinx" or something, that's just not true. He knows she's dangerous to the people of Zaun and can't personally allow that in his space or his life. It doesn't make it hurt any less but he's very clearly not having that shit. The same would've happened with Vi. She would've came back, he would've been like "I love you but FUCK NAH", and season 2 would've been exactly the same. She would've had to do some serious convincing.

But I say that to say that realistically, Caitlyn was all she had. She couldn't go back home after doing what she did, she definitely couldn't go to Jinx, everybody else is dead, that was it for her. Now we're in the glorious crash out era. I think there's something to be said about the glimpses of Caitlyn we get in that sequence. Those were hallucinations, going off of the fact that Jinx has her own and that more than likely, they share some of the same underlying mental illnesses. Breaking up with Caitlyn like that probably set it off. The straw was starting to break the camel's back. I also think it's interesting how Caitlyn left Vi similarly to how Vi (technically)left Jinx and that's when these issues start. I think it was a good way of showing that Caitlyn was right in a misguided sort of way. It is her blood in her veins. She is not that far off from Jinx, and they both can sit there and go "oh yeah she's crazy" all they want but Vi and Caitlyn were both one or two crash outs away from being like her. If anything, you can argue they kind of got there. Both of their ways of dealing with their pain involved hurting people. Caitlyn with her military dictatorship and attempted mass murder, Vi with her pit fighting, it's not at all the same in severity but conceptually... yeah, all of y'all are of fucked up.

You know I sometimes made jokes about how Caitlyn looks like Vi's mom and kind of acts like Jinx/Powder and how Freud would've had a field day with that but that's not exactly what's happening. I mean the mom thing is still a little sus but like I said before, they both have Jinx tendencies. If anything, Vi sees a reflection of herself in Caitlyn, because one of the big differences between the three of them is that what Vi and Caitlyn do is controlled. Caitlyn enacts violence through military means and generally gets permission to do the things that she does. Vi fights in a pit, that's the time and place for that. Jinx kind of does whatever she wants, except for when her mind/body makes decisions for her. She goes into panic mode and she shoots something, it's almost a natural instinct. If it's not that, it's kind of just "I felt like it". Also, their fears are coming from slightly different places and manifest in different ways. Jinx doesn't trust anyone to stick around, so she tests them and pushes them away. Vi doesn't trust anyone to stick around so she does whatever she can to keep them with her. Caitlyn doesn't trust herself to keep the people she loves around, so she becomes overly protective of them. Are we seeing what I'm saying here? It's like a hall of mirrors with these three but we're not here to talk about their relationship to Jinx, we're here to talk about them.

With this in mind, let's talk about the Fantastic CaitVi Coping and Communication Skills!!!! So the first thing they do when they join sides again is just be freaky as fuck. Like you think Vi spitting on her was a necessary part of the plan? Hell nah! Like honestly you could shoot a hole through the sexual tension between them good lord. Some people argue that the sex scene was unnecessary but looking at how they were acting before that? I'm not surprised that it went the way it did. Jokes aside though, seriously, the fact that they hadn't really addressed what happened properly and just went straight to pound town is so painfully on brand for both of them. Neither of them are good at addressing their issues. Post breakup, Vi became an emo alcoholic and Caitlyn became a whole ass dictator, I don't think they were gonna sit down and talk about their feelings. And honestly, I don't think that closure mattered nearly as much to them as it does to us as the audience. They have bigger issues, yk, like the glorious evolution and all that. Do I think that's necessarily a good thing? No. Do I think it's in character? Very. Anyway, this is why Vi is like "Cait, I don't fucking care" when she tries to begin saying anything about what she did when they were apart. She doesn't fucking care. Not at all. That's not what's important to her in that moment. It's also interesting that the first thing Caitlyn tries to apologize for is for sleeping with another woman, not trying to kill a whole bunch of her people. Notice how she went for the small thing first? She doesn't want to think about the other stuff. Neither of them do. And so they do what they do best and found a totally unhealthy distraction. In this case, it's ✂️🧁.

I think as a fandom we put too much emphasis on what's healthy in a show full of the most insane people I've ever seen. Trying to find a perfectly healthy relationship in this show is like trying to find a super niche website from 2003. You could probably do it but oh my fucking god would it take you a while. And y'all don't have nearly this much to say about Jayvik even though bro was like "ppl from the undercity are dangerous!!!" right to Viktor's face. Not to mention all the other issues they got going on. Jayce straight up killed a child with Hextech, like let's be fr. They're not all sunshine and rainbows and if we're going to criticize CaitVi the way that we do, we gotta have the same energy for Jayvik.

Anyway, I say all that to say that it's hard to focus on what the most therapist approved decision for your relationship is in these conditions and it doesn't make a ship any worse because of that.

I also don't like the idea that it's too unhealthy to be functional. It has the potential to get better and it's implied by the ending that it does, or at least starts to. Think about it like this, if two people on opposite sides of the political spectrum are friends, what do you assume is actually happening there? One party has to be compromising on their beliefs. There's no other way. If you cared so strongly about something, it'd be hard to keep company that opposes it. It's like that with CaitVi. They were on two different sides of a war and Caitlyn had to shift what she believed in order to even befriend Vi let alone be her lover. That whole "oh ur all the same" bit had to go. If anything, it makes me believe that end of season 2 CaitVi is actually healthier than season 1 CaitVi on a fundamental level. Caitlyn's view of Zaunites by the end of season 1 is attached to Vi. Vi was one of the good ones, Vi proved that there was some hope for those people, Vi was an exception. This is why she got so mad in season 2 when Vi tried to tell her she was bugging out. That's why she says "it's her blood in your veins" with so much vitriol. She gets indirectly victimized by a Zaunite, who has already been established as an extremist, and all of a sudden everybody down there is bad again. If you care about them at all you're bad too. At the end of season 2, Caitlyn is amused when she notices that Jinx is still alive. If that doesn't say anything about how much she's developed I don't know what does. Even if she doesn't like her, she doesn't have that same blind hatred anymore and that's the part we have to pay attention to. She's gotten to a point where she thinks even Jinx should have the opportunity to have a second chance. I'd rather date that than Caitlyn "wait you don't have parents?" Kiramman.

That's basically it, shout out to the writers for actually knowing how classism/racism/all the isms tbh actually work and what it looks like to change your beliefs as a a beneficiary of those systems, goodnight

[fall0utmind]

hi, i used a translator when i wrote this text, so if there are any mistakes, please forgive me 🙏we probably have one brain for the whole fandom, because i'm also hatching an idea with an a/b/o au in my head.my main idea was similar to yours with all the pain and illness, but in addition to the main focus on the relationship between vale and marc, i also wanted to write about marc's pack.his pack, consisting of young boys with whom he trains and cares for. for example, dani holgado, is definitely an alpha. looks at marc as an example, as someone to look up to. david alonso, i don't know, most likely also an alpha (for the sake of the plot lol). fermin aldeguer could be a beta. and of course maximo quiles, marc's protégé, omega. a hot-tempered boy looking at david with loving eyes.(all the boys look at him with such tenderness) I think they fit your idea perfectly.Marc, who is not a member of any packs except for the family one and is only the unofficial head of the pack of these boys. They are like his children to him.In the 2025 season, when all his guys are either in moto2 or moto3, they need his support, help and advice (they need to be held in the evenings after falls or when they are on the verge of a rut/heat) (this is in addition to his own season) and he has no time to think about his inner omega.I think this would be so different from the relationship between Vale and his academies, where the alpha of the pack is support in the media, a firm hand on the shoulder and distraction from all problems through entertainment.And Marc is soft with everyone, a support for them (he does not run away from problems, but solves them). the boys always know that they can come to him: he can listen to them or understand without words, teach them to stand up for themselves, give advice on how to take a certain turn on the track or what to choose as the first gift for courtship (or from what angle to look at the alpha))well, here is the true omega of the pack.another scene before his eyes - the day before the public loss of consciousness. maybe this is maximo, before the third race on the calendar on saturday - his first moto3 race because he just turned 17 the other day. he lies close to marc in his camper, burying his face close to the neck of the older omega. in his arms he feels like he is on the clouds, sometimes he does not finish some sentences, but marc understands everything and answers him with a laugh. perhaps before this grand prix, the boys gathered in their little pack and, he does not know for how many times, discussed that marc does not smell of anything. nothing at all. they asked alex a long time ago, but he never answered them.and max awkwardly asks about it, when before that he had been mumbling about David and his unique overtakes in his first year in moto2 for about 7 minutes non-stop, feeling how Marc relaxed. and literally three seconds later he regrets it, when Marc's breathing rhythm gets out of whack and how his shoulders tense under his grip. but the man only grabs the kid tighter and tells in general terms what happened between him and Vale, choosing only soft expressions, without hatred, sadness or pity.and the next day after the victory he faints. imagine Maximo's face lolin any case, thank you for your creativity and for your brain. not only is every word of yours read in one breath, you are also a very nice person. thank you ❤️

Hi, firstly, I'm so in awe of everyone on this app when English isn't their first language. You all make me feel so stupid 😂😂 so never apologise for that.

Secondly, what a lovely message!!!

Omg!!! Im so excited?? We all have a million a/b/o ideas and it's fantastic!!! I love that for us!

Wow! I never even considered that, it's so good??? The idea of Marc having this little gaggle of boys (borderline men) following him around like ducklings because he's like the main/pack omega (and he should be for the whole paddock) - i love it. I think there's so much room to work with in that dynamic. Like you said, the way the boys look up to him, how they need to be looked after when they've fallen or when they're about to enter heat/rut cycles. And marc is 100% being a mother hen. He doesn't even realise that he's doing it half the time? Like sitting with all the boys over lunch, giving advice, talking to them after a bad race, squished onto the motorhone sofas.

In one way, it's healing for his omega. But another is ruining him. Because it's suppressing so much that he isn't actually bonded to these kids, not on a biological level. He doesn't scent with them, etc, because he doesn't do it with ANYONE. (Post reconcilliation, he does. And they become his pups basically). These kids are clinging onto him and it hurts so bad because he doesn't actually have that connection with them 💔💔

Omg, and yes, the idea of Marc, an omega, by definition, being head of a pack. He is the one they always come to for advice, direction, and love. I especially love the comparisons to the VR46 pack. I think it would be really different. I think a. It is not a true 'pack' because of Marc's issues (although they act like one, and the boys desperately want it to be one, but don't want to push marc, just sometimes pile into his motorhome and lie on Marc's bed, confused about why there's no nest; leaving their clothes in Marc's space, he secretly hoards them for comfort).

The boys asking marc what happened omg 💔😭 marc telling them, but only the bare bones as he knows they look up to Vale and he doesn't want to ruin that, also he doesn't want to hurt/scare them because he's FINE, damn it. And then how they react when marc gets sick, can you imagine the fear? The anger they have at Valentino, but they feel so powerless because they're young and in lower leagues and UGH. God I love this idea so much. Love the dynamic, its very cute.

Thank you so much for the ask and for the kind words!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[dekariosclan]

Hi! Apologies if this has already been addressed elsewhere. I do feel like I’ve seen discourse on “flaws” Gale has that could irritate his partner. But I’m curious what your take is on a scenario where Gale does something that makes his partner legitimately angry. What could that something be, and how would Gale react to seeing his partner livid at him? (I’m wondering if there would be two different reactions depending on if Gale agrees he is in the wrong vs. thinking he’s right)

Hope you have a wonderful day! 💜

Ah, lovely Anon! It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and nothing says 💘“True Love”💘 more than loving someone despite their flaws, right?? And yes, even Gale “Pixel Wizard Husband of All Time” Dekarios has some flaws!

I forgive him for each and every one he’s perfect in my eyes

So, I have actually written a *cough* rather lengthy *cough* list of what I believe Gale’s flaws would be as a partner. Please feel free to peruse that, but I MUST warn you—there is a section where Gale will destroy you with his Sad Cow Eyes 🥺, so please be prepared in advance, anon!

But regarding your specific question—which I do cover in the other post, but I’ll expand on here—yes, absolutely, I think Gale would have two very different responses to a fight, depending on whether Tav was the one ‘in the wrong’ or he was.

I talked in a recent post about how Gale, during the early parts of his romance with Tav and before the end of the game, is insecure about Tav loving him. This is because he’s still so insecure about himself. It’s not until the Epilogue that we see how far Gale’s self-esteem has come, now that he’s finally with someone who accepts his love and loves him back 100%. Finally.

So, while I believe arguments would tend to be a rare occurrence between these two lovebirds overall, I think the time when they could begin to happen is after Gale’s marriage/moving in proposal—because now, the relationship is real and secure.

And now that it’s real and secure, I think Gale could definitely let his guard down and mistakenly insert his foot in his mouth.

I mentioned in the ‘Flaws’ post that I think Gale will always have a bit of Pomposity, Messiness, and Fussiness about him. That’s all part of who he is, after all. Plus, he was living alone for over a year—it would naturally take some time for him to get accustomed to living life with a partner 24/7, even if he is overjoyed that they are with him.

I could see Gale growing frustrated with his things being rearranged or moved in his Tower. Why—his books! His (admittedly dusty) scrolls! His poisonous alchemy experiments! Why had Tav moved them off of his dining room table?! It was a perfectly legitimate place for them!

I could see there being a rather heated argument where Gale might come off a bit too arrogant, thinking—no; knowing—that he was in the right, and Tav growing very, very angry in response. So much so that Gale is a bit taken aback.

Seeing Tav livid at him would definitely hurt Gale. But if he was SURE he was in the right and Tav was not, he would be stiffly polite until an appropriate apology was offered. (Then, of course, he would be melting with relief, and, well…rather eager to make up with Tav. Passionately eager, one might say.)

However, in the argument example I gave above—I don’t think it would take Gale too long to realize that he’d been, ah—to put it rather mildly—a complete and utter ass.

I think he’d realize that Tav’s anger at him dictating ‘Rules for the Tower’ was warranted—because it was no longer ‘Gale’s Tower’.

It was their Tower. Their home.

And he would immediately swallow his pride and set out to apologize to his beloved Tav.

***

Now, Anon; I’m going to end this ask here, because I’ve fully explained in the ‘Flaws’ post how Gale reacts when he is in the wrong (and he knows it), and what his apology would look like. Just scroll down a bit until you get to the Cow Eyes—which again, I must stress, you need to get mentally prepared for—and you’ll know you’re in the right spot!

[ledesaid]

Billy body-swaps #7

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

boom de yada...

boom...

de...

yada...boom de yada

Superman: Marvel... It's almost time, are you ready?

Billy: Yes, I just wanted to look at the Earth a little more... maybe I'll be you in a second or with Green Lantern on Oa... we have five minutes before jumping.

Superman: Take your time. If you fall asleep, I'll take you to your room, don't worry.

Billy: Thanks, Clark.

Clark: It's fine, Billy.

They've talked about some changes since he told them his biggest secret. Many really gigantic changes...

Billy walks towards his room. Yes!

Now he has a room!

And he lives in the Watchtower. Boom!

That was the big news!

Yay?

It's not what he had planned, but it must make sense and he still finds it hard to grasp.

One minute to midnight.

Time for his weekly jump...

Oh, you didn't know? Well, now he jumps weekly.

That's what happens when you force a jump. A small price to pay if the world was saved from Doomsday.

Ohhh!

...: And then he pierced his heart with a harpoon!

Billy: What?

...: What? Now are you enthralled by looking? You must truly join, Snart!

Billy: I don't drink.

...: Are you going to leave your friend Mick with the drink?

Billy: I don't drink.

Mick: You always say the same thing, but what's wrong with you today? You look like you've seen a ghost...

And it starts!

Billy runs out of there as fast as he can without looking back. This brings back memories of Barry and his marriage proposal. But he wasn't in a nice café...

He had ended up in a random place, with random people instead of one of his League teammates' houses.

True, that was the second piece of news!

<He's an official member of the Justice League>

That didn't sound in Billy's mind with the excitement he expected...

Back to the slow-speed chase. Billy has run out like a soul being chased by the devil.

There aren't many places to hide in a residential neighborhood. Literally, there aren't even public phones to call...

Well... here's a problem.

Billy hadn't considered a scenario where an emergency extraction was necessary under these circumstances.

With the frequency of the changes and the fact that he has only possessed League members, always in safe spaces... Doomsday doesn't count... He really should have.

Batman did, obviously Batman did...

But... But Billy feels guilty for not doing his part. He only remembers the first four digits... He swears he was going to learn the rest next week.

This new host only has a disposable phone.

He thinks he must run for the next few hours and everything will be fine...

Yes...

Just run for twelve hours straight with someone on your heels.

Mick: Snart! Stop running!

Billy: No! Stay away!

Heavens? What would Superman do?

Well... there's this trick of... No... he doubts it would work... But... But... would Superman answer long-distance calls?

Billy: I'm Marvel!... and I need a super extraction!

Not much happens after that except for a tackle from the pursuer.

....

Batman: So... potential heroes? He is one?

Flash: Yes! I want to speak for Snart, I've fought him for years, but I've seen that potential and we need to talk about how he helped in the last crisis. Please, Bruce, believe me... I can feel it, I'm not wrong about him...

Batman: It will be put to a League vote, but we need to monitor him every Sunday... and deploy a global plan. With Snart on the jump list, we must consider that every villain or even civilians could be potential hosts for Billy.

Diana: Meanwhile, Leonard Snart must give his word and commitment... We can't expose Billy to this rogue. Whether he has potential or not. He's committed enough crimes to keep him locked up for a good time if there isn't a commitment.

Flash: Guys... Friends, you know me and I ask you to trust me... I'll vouch for Leonard...

....

Jon E: How's that hit, Marvel?

Billy: Nothing a cold steak can't fix.

Jon E: We have something better.

Billy: Ice cream?

Jon E: I left a tub in the fridge next to the vaccines, don't tell Batman.

Billy: Thanks, Jon! Can we use some magic to heal this wound? I wouldn't like Snart to have to deal with this when he gets control back.

Jon E: Zatanna is on duty, I can call her after you finish your ice cream.

Billy: Well, I think I'm going to need more ice cream if I end up like Lex Luthor or Swamp Thing.

Jon E: Let's hope not.

╣╣╣╣╣╣╣

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | U are here

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 8)

Word Count - 5.6K

Summary - After being ambushed by an unknown foe and coming face to face with the realities of war, Ghost and Doc are forced to relocate to another safe house. Here they come clean about the inner turmoil plaguing them.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn

A/N - Just gunna sneak back in here.

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3  ❤︎ Part 3.5  ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 6 ❤︎ Part 7

Masterlist  ❤︎

Simon found himself stealing glances at the hands you had fisted in the fading material of your trousers. Your knuckles flashed white under your skin, and your jaw was fixed tight enough that your teeth might just crack under the pressure. Only the tips of your toes touched the floor, the muscles in your legs were so tense.

A near-death experience in his presence was unacceptable on his best of days. It’s happened twice—it was fucking with his head. He wanted to give you the space and independence that you had asked for but it seemed like every time he did so, you ended up injured. And badly. 

He wanted to pull you out of harm's way, hide you away from danger; but he was so devastatingly afraid of losing you again. A bitter fact that was making him go mad. He was selfish. In every sense of the word. 

It wasn’t that he thought you were helpless, he knew you could hold your own.

But…

He turned over the cyclone of thoughts in his head with a desperate need to find a solution that didn’t involve you getting hurt. Either by him or not.  

You shifted in your seat, brows knitting together and a grimace threatening to stretch your mouth. Simon had growing concerns about a possible concussion. Your agonizing headache and the puking from earlier weren’t a good sign. The singular gash above your brow has stopped bleeding but blood still coated and crusted into the strands of your hair. 

Your body had begun to shake as the adrenaline ebbed from your bones, leaving behind cold and sore muscles. For the life of him, he couldn’t shake the sight of the wild and desperate look in your eyes when he saw you in that hallway. You didn’t believe you’d come out of that fight alive and he could see that from the driver's seat. He forced his eyes to remain on the road ahead but his attention was wholly on you and your every breath. He wanted to ask you to talk to him, to let him know that you knew you were safe now. It was foolish to assume you would, you very rarely spoke your mind. Instead, you pushed your unsavoury thoughts and feelings to the deepest recesses of your mind. He only knew this because he saw it in himself. 

Like calls to like, he internally grumbled. Perhaps that was what he needed, someone who understood him and the way he worked. 

From the corner of his eye, he caught your eyes rolling shut, your head bobbing, as you fought off sleep. He reached over to your arm, shaking you lightly, “Stay awake for me, Doc.” 

Your eyes snapped back open but they were still glazed with a mixture of confusion and exhaustion, and you struggled to focus them. The terrain outside the truck window was moving too fast and your vision blurred then doubled. 

You frowned, “I think I’m going to vomit,” you cupped a hand over your mouth as it began to water. 

This time when he pulled over you nearly didn’t make it out in time—collapsing to your knees just outside. If he wanted to look over he would still be able to see the top of your head and watch as your shoulders heaved and curved forward with every wretch. Simon had to grip the steering wheel so tight that he feared the weathered and worn plastic would give way. Yet, he only tightened his hold to keep from jumping out after you because he knew you’d bite his head off if he did. Instead, he waited, pretending to distract himself with finding something from the back seat. 

He glared so hard out the windshield that he had to blink away a burn from his eyes. If he learned anything from his time in the military it was that he needed to manage his emotions before they took form. He had a track record of “losing control”, and he’d be damned if he didn’t feel like punching the fuck out of the steering wheel at this moment.      

You used the side of the vehicle to haul yourself back up, knees wobbling. Simon was already handing you water from his pack. You rinsed out your mouth, giving him a look that confirmed his suspicions. 

He felt his expression harden and watched as you noticed his demeanour change. You waved a hand. 

You waved him off. 

He swore he could feel his blood pressure rising. He was a torrent of emotions and thoughts that he didn’t have the time or desire to sort through right now.  

He cared so much. So much so, that he had to quite literally bite the tip of his tongue to keep from asking you a million questions. 

Are you okay? What can I do? What do you need?

“I’ll be fine, Riley,” you crawled back into your seat, “How much longer?” 

He tipped his head from side to side in contemplation, “Hour and a half.” 

Simon counted to 50, then back down by 7s, and back up by odd numbers, just to get a handle on his breathing. 

Turning back time to a few hours ago to kill those two soldiers again wasn’t an option. He knew that, but dammit it all if he didn’t wish that just this once he could. 

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you arrived, and to your visible relief, this new safe house was in a rather populated city. Around 20,000 civilians if you had to guess. The sky of the downtown area was stretched higher from the dozen or so apartment buildings. All similar looking in architecture. Some were as high as 10 stories, with little glowing windows dotting the sides. Others were no more than four. This would make it easier to blend in and disappear. 

He pulled into an underground car park, finding the most secluded and dimly lit corner he could. He ripped the cover off of a neglected truck from a few stalls down to cover his. Dust kicked up from the disintegrating canvas, and you waved a hand in front of your face and let out a few coughs to clear your lungs of it.  

You let him carry your pack from the car, if only because you knew he would pretend he didn’t hear you if you asked for it.

He led you to the seventh floor of the apartment building, and he quietly apologized for there not being an elevator.         

Simon had made you stand by the door while he made sure the place was secure. From where you stood you could hear him opening and closing the door, his footfalls near silent. When he was satisfied with his findings, or lack-there-of he guided you to the table before disappearing down the dark hallway. The singular light he had turned on in the kitchen was just enough to give you an idea of your surroundings. The apartment was nearly barren apart from the absolute basics. There was a small kitchen table that had the stain and lacquer peeling off, with a couple of chairs and a couch in the main room. Down the hall were two doors one with a bedroom complete a bed and dresser, and a bathroom.

When he returned, he had a wet cloth and a medkit he found in the bathroom in hand. With a nod of his chin, he sat you down in one of the chairs at the table, pulling another for himself in front of you. His legs were too long to sit comfortably unless he placed them on either side of yours. The proximity of his body heat melted nearly every muscle it reached.  

He was so incredibly gentle. It never failed to surprise you that this man was capable of such a touch. His fingers were feather light on your chin as he maneuvered your face to get rid of the blood that had dried to your skin. He said nothing the entire time. Too focused and too in his head to remember to talk. 

Guilt rushed up. You wanted so badly to reach out and take his hand in yours. Console whatever inner battle he was waging on himself. You wanted to feel him. Kiss him.  

Jerking back, you hissed at him when he began to clean the open wound. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, and his whiskey-coloured eyes snapped up to yours for a second before returning to his work. 

Now that he had cleaned up the area, it didn’t seem to be all that bad. Headwounds always bled more you reminded, but he would still need to do something to close it up. He rummaged through the kit, basically emptying its contents onto the table before he found steri-strips at the bottom of the medkit.    

You were certain that if it were he who had the injury he would have been content with a gluing to shut with the common crazy glue you’d find in every household's junk drawer and be on his way. He was no surgeon or nurse. He was a war-hardened soldier. There should be nothing nurturing about him. But with you, he was thoughtful about it. When he was done he leaned back in his chair to take a good look at his handiwork. You thanked him, instinctively leaning forward and resting your head on his chest. His arms encircled you, rubbing comforting lines up and down your back. You could hear the rhythmic thumb of his heart. 

You stayed like that for long enough that your breaths became synchronized. You allowed it to lull you, nearly falling asleep against him.  

“To bed with you,” he stood, holding out a hand for you. He guided you to the bedroom down the hall. There were no sheets or blankets. Or even a pillow. But, the cot looked unused. Brand new, even. 

You pulled off your boots with a grunt, and that was about as far as you got before you decided it wasn’t worth the effort and laid down. At some point during the night, you woke up with his jacket covering the upper half of your body. You curled your body into it, trying to get as much of yourself covered as you could before you drifted back into sleep.   

He left you to rest, but he still came in every few hours to wake you up and check if your condition was worsening. Each time he made sure to quickly close the door behind him so that the light filtered from the kitchen into the hall wouldn’t bother you. He usually left right after checking in on you, and more than on one occasion you could hear the voices of one of the 141 members coming from a radio or laptop in the living room area. 

Right now, he was crouched beside your bed, his eyes searching yours for any indication of a decline in your condition. 

Without thinking, you reached out for the hand that he had dangling between his legs. His fingers almost instinctively curled around yours. You rolled onto your side to face him completely, wincing when the weight of your hair reminded you of your injury. 

Gingerly he pushed hair back from your face and tucked it behind your ear. 

You could tell there was still an inner conflict plaguing him. One that he was trying very hard not to let come to the surface. There was so much he needed to say to you, but he couldn’t find the right wording and he was so afraid of scaring you off again. You would let him have a little more time to think before you pushed him to talk.

“What are they saying?” you had to fight to keep your eyes focused on him as your vision swam in front of you. You reached for him, your fingers catching on the collar of his sweater. You used his form to ground yourself as vertigo threatened to sweep you away. 

He placed a stabilizing hand under your elbow, “We’re gonna have to stay here for a few weeks until we know for sure we weren’t followed. It worked out great though. I have a contact here. Might be able to tell us who that was today,” his voice was unnaturally soft, and melodic. He sounded distracted like his mind was elsewhere, “You should get some more rest.”

He moved to stand up, but his grip didn’t loosen. As if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. 

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered, biting your lip and looking down at his shoes preparing yourself for his rejection. 

He stilled. 

“Let me finish this report and I’ll be back,” he gave your hand one last squeeze before lowering it. 

You were in the limbo between sleep and wake when he returned. He came in with his pack, ripping off the last of his gear piece by piece. You sat up to watch when you heard the soft thud of boots hitting the floor. His shirt was already discarded on the floor, his belt open and hanging loose around his hips. 

You swallowed, your imagination instantly taking you back to that night a few weeks ago. Remembering how he had felt above you. In you. The feel of his desperate panting on your neck, and the sound of his moans were enough of a reminder that you squeezed your thighs together involuntarily. 

“Nuh-uh,” he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction when he noticed your eyes glaze over, “We’re getting you cleaned up.” 

He pulled back the covers on the bed, revealing your bare legs and the shirt he had slipped on you before sending you off to sleep. His shirt. The sudden change in temperature in concurrence with the heat of his gaze caused goose bumps to rise on your skin. 

“Are you planning on joining?” You tilted your head to the side. It was more of a request than it was a question.   

His eyelids grew heavy and he nodded. This time when you stood up, you weren’t as dizzy as you were expecting to be, at least nothing that you couldn’t handle. There was only the constant headache. A shower would help.

With his hands on your hips, he guided you down the hall to the bathroom. Almost immediately after he turned on the tap, steam wafted through the room. Your mouth dropped open, “A hot shower?”    

You fought to keep from pushing him out of the way to step inside the water. You were struggling with your shirt when Simon gave you a helping hand. 

Now completely naked in front of him, you reached for the zipper of his pants, eager to get in the water. He grasped your hand with him, his face tilted up and staring off into the corner. The tips of his ear were crimson and a nervous chuckle escaped him, “You need to give me a second.”

You took a cheeky peek at where your hands had just been. 

You blinked. 

He was rock solid. Painfully straining against the front of his jeans.  

“You’re naked,” he gritted out, and he said it like you weren’t aware. 

“What…” You tried to move your hands again but his grip tightened, “What were to expecting? This is a shower.”

“Please just get in the shower.”

You raised yourself onto your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Then worked your way down his neck; to his pulse, which hammered against his skin. 

You pressed into him, trapping your hands between your bodies. 

He groaned, the sounds coming up from deep within his chest. 

He stiffened as if remembering that just a few hours ago your life had been forfeit. His blood ran cold, you could feel it in the way his spin went ridged.  

And just like that, he was serious again, quietly guiding you to the shower. 

He did not join. He had brought you a fresh pair of clothes and waited outside the bathroom for you, closing the door behind him. 

You had tried your best to rinse all the blood and dirt from your body, unsure of how much of it was even yours. Your fingers danced over your open wounds, careful not to disturb the dressings Simon had put there earlier. Blood feathered and mixed with the water before slipping down the drain. You stayed under the water until it ran clear. What you wouldn’t give for a bar of soap in this moment. Your skin was red and irritated from the heat of the water and the scrubbing of cloth by the time you stepped back out.  

Steam fogged the glass but you could still see the vague, distorted outline of your body. You looked down at the fresh purple and blue hues of the bruises that marred your skin. They littered your legs and arms and contoured your hips. They peeked out from beneath your chin and disappeared into your hairline. Poking at them to feel the familiar ache was a habit you’ve had since you were a child, one you couldn’t shake all these years later. Your tongue darted out to trace the split in your lip, tasting coppery blood. 

The shower helped more than you had thought it could. It didn’t just rid your body of the blood but any lingering fear and tension. You didn’t move as sluggish as you did before, but you were still unbalanced enough that you had to sit on the toilet to put your pants on.   

   When you exited the bathroom, Simon had tried his best to carral you back the bedroom but you put up a big enough fight that he eventually moved to the side of the hallway to let you past. 

Even though every slight shift in movement sent pain crackling between your temples, you had felt the need to make yourself useful. You had yet to discover what task you could do that would help you achieve usefulness in this moment. You asked and asked until he had finally relented and allowed you to sit at the table in the kitchen with him, and had given you the menial task of planning out meals so that the little bit of food you guys had on hand could last as long as possible. Ghost had set up his little station in the kitchen, and was currently taking inventory on the very limited supplies you guys had available. 

Which was his own C8 carbine with a total of three clips and two extra boxes of ammo, his standard-issue handgun with one extra mag; yours must have fallen out of its holder during your fight in the school hallway because neither of you could find it. Your M4A1 with four magazines. Each of your military-issued knives, and 11 throwing knives, four of them being your own. Between what he found in your pack, his pack, the truck, and the safe house you guys had four maybe five comfortable days worth of food. He had found four blue jugs full of water in the bathroom. 

You sat slouched in the chair, scanning the table and kitchen counters that were now full of all your paraphernalia and provisions. He had told you his plans to meet up with this contact, Alex, some time tomorrow he was just waiting to hear back from him to see when and where. You had asked to come but Ghost shot down the idea immediately saying, “I still don’t really know who’s side he’s on. It’d better if he thinks I’m alone for now.”

You fiddled with one of the bullets he had laid out on the table, your finger balancing on its tip as you rocked it back a fourth. It wasn’t that you missed or even liked the abandoned fort you guys had previously been hiding out in with everyone else but at least that place wasn’t so agonizingly quiet. You guys couldn’t talk above a whisper to avoid any neighbours questioning why the usually empty apartment suddenly had occupants. 

You also missed Soap. Oddly enough. You hadn’t realized you’d taken such a liking to him. Enjoying his company came easy, with stifled chuckles and playful competition.    

Ghost dragged the back of his hand across the growing stubble on his chin, a gesture you had recently discovered might have been a nervous tick of his. 

“I’m going to try and see if I can at least get you back to the others,” he looked up at you from beneath his brows, his long lashes shadowing his eyes. If you knew how to paint, this was a picture you would want to capture on canvas. His deep brown eyes wavered for a second before hardening.   

There was a low, nearly imperceptible hum coming from the light in the kitchen. A noise you hadn’t noticed was so irritating until just now. 

You blinked at him, thinking for a second you heard him wrong, “What?”

He dropped his head between his shoulders for a second before looking back up at you, his eyes full of conflict, “I’m going to-“

”No,” you tilted your head at him, “I heard you. I’m just trying to understand what you're insinuating. You’ve never really been the best at communicating, but I think you’re saying you’re trying to go off on your own right now. Which, by the way, I will not be agreeing to. So I strongly suggest you take back what you just said.”

You watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across his face. You couldn’t help but feel like he hated the fact that without the comfort of his mask. A man who liked keeping his plans close to his chest but had a difficult time hiding his emotions; was an unpredictable man. 

“I’ve already almost died once this week,” you tried to reason with him, “Statistically speaking, I don’t think it will happen again for at least a few more months.” 

A purple so deep rimmed his eyes, that you wondered if he’d slept at all since you arrived. His dark eyes were dull and unamused at your try at a joke. 

“It’s not funny.” He quipped. Pushing his chair back with a thud. He made to move for the kitchen. 

“Why are you so upset?” you sit up, his jacket falling from your shoulders and getting stuffed between your back and the chair. You attempted to reach for him but he shot you a warning glare over his shoulder, his hand shooting out in a ‘halt’ gesture.

Your heart squeezed in your chest, and your blood ran cold. You scowled at him, ”I can’t understand why you are so insistent on trying to hide me from a career path that I chose for myself. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but whatever happens to me out there is something I have already come to terms with. So why, Simon,” Your voice had risen to a decibel that boarded on yelling, “Why do you keep trying to coddle me?” 

“Because everyone I’ve ever cared about dies! They either die, or leave me, or betray me. And you’re being selfish.” He snapped, chest rising and falling. 

Your breath sucked out and you pulled back in surprise. He has never raised his voice at you like this. You knew he could. He has at others. At Soap. At Price. Not at you though. 

“I have done as you’ve asked and I’ve stepped back. I have done well by you in that. But—” he raked a hand through his cropped hair and moved to take a knee in front of you. His hands gripped your shoulder like he wanted to shake you but didn’t, “It’s not working. You have to give me some room to breathe. I can’t keep walking on eggshells around you. We have to come to an understanding. I have watched so many of my comrades die. I couldn’t save them and I am terrified of if there comes a time where I can’t save you. I have this pit in my stomach every time I am around you that it might be the last time,” he huffed, irritated with himself for a reason you couldn’t understand, “I’m still a man. I’m still a man who desires to keep you out of harm's way. And you hate me for it.”

Instinctively, you almost said, I won’t die, but knew that was naive. 

His eyes were frantically searching yours. This wasn’t how he wanted to have this conversation with you. He had been carefully putting together a speech for days, and he just threw the entire dialogue out the window, and he was panicking. 

You hate me for it. 

The words settled in the air, and with every breath you took you inhaled the bitter taste of them. The time between his confession and the words that stuck to the roof of your mouth must have been too long for Simon because there was a flash of hurt in his eyes.   

He made a sound of disbelief before turning his head to the side, his tongue digging into the side of his cheek, “Shit.” 

 You caught his shoulders just as he tried to pull away, keeping his attention on you. Somewhere between the shock and foreign emotions, you felt a sense of anguish. A grief that burned at your eyes. 

“I-“ you started, trying to find the words, “There has never been a man in my life who I felt truly safe and protected by. Not a single one. Not even my own father, my flesh and blood, has given me that security. All of my life I have been relying on only myself. I got myself in and out of situations entirely on my own,” you dragged your hand up to his jaw, “But when I am with you, there is no place on earth where I would feel like this. Like I don’t have to watch my back all the time. Or like I have sleep with one eye open. With you, I can let my guard down. I can be vulnerable,” you shook your head, “I’ll be better. I will be better at letting you help me. I will let you worry for me. I’ve never done that before and I don’t really know how to do that, but I’ll learn. I’ll learn. Just don’t send me away.”    

Before he could reply you were leaning forward in your seat, your mouth falling into a now familiar position over his. He immediately parted his lips for you, his hands instinctively delving into the hair at the base of his neck. The salt of tears you didn’t know you were shedding mixed in with the taste of him. He kisses them into your skin. With minimal effort and a soft grunt, he lifted you from your seat, shifting the two of you so he was sitting in the chair with you in his lap. 

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you,” you didn’t think your words could be so honest. 

The agonizing sound that came from him was heartbreaking. The very thought of this man thinking you hated him for something he was trying so hard to ignore was enough to convince you that you never wanted to leave his side.

His mouth captured yours once more, one hand digging into the skin on your hips while the other wrapped around your back to keep you as close to him as he could possibly get you. You let him. Let him grab ahold of you like he desperately needed to. He needed to steal the air from your lungs for his own, his heartbeat to the feel of yours. He needed to memorize every curve and dip of your body beneath his touch. He needed the know how the sound of your gasps and breaths like he needed to know his own name.      

He kissed you until he was all you knew too. Until the world faded away into the shadows of the night, and your mind whittled down small enough for just him to hold. Your body moulded to his, sinking deeper into his hold. Your skin screamed to be touching his, and your fingers searched for any bit of exposed skin they could find. 

For what seemed like an eternity and a few seconds at the same time, you stayed like this. Entwined in each other's arms and fingers, and mouths; lost in each other. Pulling away from one another if only to take in air before diving back in. 

This man would be the death of you. You would throw your neck on the blade if it meant saving him. And oddly enough, you weren’t terrified of that revelation. You welcomed it and felt the need to nurture this new feeling. 

His grip loosened and he ran lines up and down your outer thigh. His fevered kisses slowed to a leisure. 

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed into your skin, “Don’t leave me behind.”

You knew without him needing to say that didn’t mean physical distance, or even emotional. He meant for you not to leave him behind to walk the earth without you by his side. 

You shook your head, giving him one last sweet kiss before stepping off of him and holding your hand out for him to grab, “Stay with me.” 

You lead him down the hall back to the bedroom, where you curled up into his arms in the bed. He pressed into the curve of his arms and engulfed yourself in his warmth and safety. It was a wordless interaction, one that felt natural and practiced. 

For a second, just as you drifted into sleep and your senses ebbed away into the recesses of your mind, you thought about what it would feel like to go to sleep and wake up in his arms every day. What it would be like to wake up in a room you shared, in a house you shared.     

He was gone the next morning before the sun had fully risen. Even though he had tried his best not to wake you, the sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall tugged you from your sleep. He was barely halfway through the kitchen before you were followed him. He sat at the table tying his shoes while you had prepared a quick breakfast of jam and crackers for him. When you turned around in the kitchen to face him, his eyes were already tracking your every movement, an indescribable expression pulled at his brows and the corner of his mouth. 

“How long will you be?” You handed him the crackers. 

He ate the first one in one bite, chewing quickly before answering, “I’ll be back by noon at the latest,” he paused, “If I’m not, call Price. He’ll come get you.” 

“I’ll wait,” you said with a finality that he didn’t have the heart to argue with. 

You waited for noon to come, keeping yourself busy by monitoring the streets out front. Memorized the cars and people as they went off to work for the day. You took detailed notes of those who left later or lingered outside for longer than what you deemed normal. You wrote down on the small notepad you kept in the front of your pack. You flipped past the pages that had the tasks and notes from previous dates. The pen ink was smudged and washed away from rainy days and spilt coffee on some pages. 

You watched as the hour hand flicked across the clock. From one to two. From two to four. You watched as some of the civilians who left in the early morning hours returned home. Some with groceries for tonight’s dinner, others still stuck on the phone with coworkers as they unlocked their front doors. Some hold hands with their children after picking them up from school.

You sat anxiously by the window, one leg crossed over the other while the other anxiously bounced. You chewed on the tip of your pen as you tried to force yourself to continue to take notes on the people outside. 

You couldn’t help yourself but lean a little bit closer to the window, your breath fogging the glass, every time you saw any man who even remotely resembled Ghost. Your ears perked up every time you heard heavy footsteps come up and down the hall. Waiting until one set stopped in front of the door. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time you heard the softest of knocks on the door. With bare feet you padded over to the door, reaching out for your handgun you felt on the counter on the way there. On the tips of your toes, you pressed your ear up the wood, listening hard. Another knock, this time with a different pattern and force. You tilted your head. Two different people?

You took one large, silent step to the side of the door, pressing your back to the wall. With the gun still in your left hand, you reached over for the door knob. And waited. Waited to see if they speak. They didn’t. You heard no movement. 

Your heart began to pound in your chest, and it felt like your lungs weren’t fully expanding. A million thoughts ran through your mind. 

Who could it be? Simon surly would have just walked in. Right? Or at least said something. With one last inhale through your nose and a forceful breath out your mouth you twisted the cold metal of the door handle. 

The sights of your handgun aim directly at the man's forehead standing outside the door.      

Masterlist

A/N - 

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[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 7: Apologies𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 6 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.7K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: You and Cedric make up in the hospital wing and the headmaster, Dumbledore pays you an unpleasant visit.

Notes: Please comment on anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK. (I'm very sorry for the late ass update but motivation hates me)

Content warning: None

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDIT TO ME!

...

You wake up in a dark and silent room. Every candle was snuffed out, and not a sound could be perceived. You weren’t sure when you were; you couldn’t even move your body, but when you did, you felt a sharp pain in your temple and let out a yelp.

Suddenly, you heard something, a shuffling noise from somewhere on the right side of the room. Someone rushed to your side and lay your head back down on what you assumed was a pillow.

“Don’t push yourself, (Name). Go back to sleep,” said the person. His voice was deep and soft, and despite not knowing who it was, you felt a sense of familiarity and generally liked the man’s voice.

When he stopped talking, you were slightly disappointed but followed his orders.

After a few minutes, you drifted back to sleep.

When you awoke once more, sunlight streamed through the window, and you could see that it was perhaps dawn or dusk. Since the light illuminated your vision, you could see the room you lay in, which was the infirmary.

You felt a weight on your legs and looked down to see Winnie’s head and arms resting on them. She was snoring lightly, a book sprawled next to her. 

The noise of shuffling caught your attention and looking up, you noticed your old rival, Cedric Diggory, sitting in the corner to the right, flipping the pages of a novel with a faded red cover. He seemed lost in thought, his chin posed onto his palm until he looked up and caught your gaze.

“(Name) (Surname). You’re awake,” he noted, placing his book down on the windowsill and walking up to your bedside. He placed a warm hand on your temple, “Are you feeling all right? Dizzy? Tired?”

“I’m okay,” You croaked, your voice dry. How long were you out? 

“Here,” Diggory grabbed a glass from your nightstand and brought it to your lips. Since you still felt a little weak and your arms were numb, you acquiesced, gulping down the water. A few drops dribbled down your chin, but Diggory wiped them away.

“Be careful.”

“What happened?” you questioned after finishing the glass.

You didn’t miss the way Diggory averted his eyes at the question, he was embarrassed by his brash actions, and you could tell, “Well, a Bludger hit your broom, breaking it, so it was rather unstable. You ended up losing control over it and the wind knocked you into a tree.” You flinched at the memory, but he wasn’t done. “You hit your head and I flew down to get you. I used my wand to bring the Bludgers back into the case and brought you to the infirmary.”

“How long was I out for?” You wondered out loud.

“Well, I’d say around a day and a half. I’m sure it was over 24 hours since you were unconscious at six on a Friday, and we’re Sunday morning. But, I think you were somewhat conscious last night.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“I heard you yelp and, although it might have just been a dream, I swore you raised your head. Your eyes were closed, though.”

You nod along, faintly remembering waking up in a dark room and hearing a soft, deep voice. Your cheeks flushed at the memory of thinking that it was nice, and you hoped that Diggory didn’t notice.

Unfortunately for you, he did.

A frown spread across his handsome face, “Are you feeling alright?” he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead.

When he pulled away, you just had to ask, “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, ever since I woke up, you’ve been treating me like your best mate. What changed? Me hitting my head. Doubtful.”

Diggory looked away. Then, careful not to put too much weight on the bed, sat down. 

Winnie — who was on the other side — stirred in her sleep. She shuffled a bit, then settled down and started snoring once more.

“I realised something, (Surname),” Diggory mumbled, trying not to wake Winnie, “We can keep going on like this. After you fell, Professor Sprout told me the houses were at each other’s throats. She said you already knew. I-I was so blinded by our rivalry that I just never noticed how it was hurting the people around me. I was stubborn. You were ready to change, I saw it in your eyes. But I acted so stupid and you got hurt by my actions.” He looked straight into your eyes, “I don’t want to be the reason someone is injured.”

A long silence passes between the two of you. Your mind was racing, and you were shocked. Was he really apologising? You waited for a moment, expecting him to laugh or say, “just kidding”, but he was dead serious.

You looked down at your hands, “Truth be told, I haven’t been the best, and getting hurt was partially my fault.” Diggory was about to say something to shift the blame back to him, but you quickly interrupted, “Sometimes…you make me stupid things just to prove a point. I was scared up there, but I didn’t say anything so you didn’t think any less of me.”

“I like being your rival,” you admitted, hands playing with the sheets, “You push me to do things I would never do otherwise — like get me back on my broom — but right now, it’s so toxic. ”

Diggory nodded in agreement, “I agree. You’re honestly someone I look up to. You’re skilled both academically and in the air. Ever since second year, I considered you as someone I wanted to be like.”

You laughed, peering at him through your eyelashes, “I didn’t realise our rivalry lasted that long.”

You saw Diggory smile nervously at the comment, “Yeah, it’s a bit stupid that we’ve never managed to have a civil conversation since then. Do you remember why I hated you?”

You dug through your memories of Year 2 but found nothing. It had been a long time since then, and one of the only memorable moments was your first Quidditch Match, and even that was a rather faded memory. 

You did recall the rivalry starting when he bragged about scoring higher on a Potions assessment and getting mad — back then and even now, you regarded your academic performances very highly.

You decided to shoot your shot with the second memory, “Was it when you scored higher during a Potions test?” Then, you realised it didn’t make any sense that he was the one who purposefully started your rivalry by bragging — he had never been that type of person — and back-tracked, “Wait, no, did you play in Quidditch back in Year 2? Although, I don’t recall you being the Seeker.”

“Yeah, that was when. Back then, I was the extra Keeper, not the Seeker, so when my teammate was hurt, I’d step in,” Diggory explained, “I still have the memory of your win. If I had stopped the Quaffle, then maybe…” he trailed off.

You tilted your head, trying to wrap your thoughts around the situation, “So you hated me because I scored the last goal in the Hogwarts’ Quidditch Tournament four years ago?”

“Well, not quite, it’s more complex than that,” he said, but then added, “Actually, come to think of it, that sound rather stupid, doesn’t it?” He chuckled.

Diggory hummed, resting his palm on his hand, “It was more like…I wasn’t just mad at you. You made me hate myself for not being able to catch a stupid Quaffle. I felt that I let Hufflepuff down, and seeing you, a kid in the same bloody year as me, get all the Slytherins’ attention for winning a tournament I was so passionate about just messed me up a bit.” He took a deep breath and lowered his voice, “I blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault. And I blamed myself because I couldn’t blame another Hufflepuff. I’m sorry, (Name).”

You were both silent for a moment but for different reasons. You — still having woken up from a concussion mere minutes ago — were trying to comprehend the entire situation while Diggory felt like he had no words left, nothing more to say. He awaited your reaction.

Then, it finally clicked for you, and you sighed, “I’m…I’m sorry too, Diggory. We should have talked about this sooner instead of being at each others’ throats all these years. Who knows, we could have been friends if not for that.”

His hand covered his mouth but you saw him smile through the crack in between his fingers, “What a duo we could have made.”

Then, the silence reigned the room again, although this time, it was a comfortable silence, one where your thoughts would drift across your mind, and you could hear the birds chirping outside. A silence so calm and peaceful that you needn’t say a word.

An unexpected sound stirred the quiet; a shuffling coming from the right side of your bed where Winnie lay. She was so still before, that you hardly noticed her. Now, your legs felt numb from being laid on by your friend.

“Izzit morning already?” Winnie mumbled and yawned. She cracked her eyes open just a little. It wasn’t until she noticed your (eye colour) eyes that she awoke fully and bounced off of your lower body. It was like a jolt of electricity had been sent through her entire being and she practically jumped onto you. You felt the air leave your lungs.

“(Name)! You’re alive! Oh, how we missed you.” She pulled back to check your face, “Are you alright? Does your head hurt? Are you sleepy? How are you feeling? Thirsty? Hungry? Confused??” 

“I think you should lay off the poor boy, Campbell,” Diggory suggested.

Unlike the majority of your friend group, Winnie never had a grudge towards him. In fact, neither of them realised they were on opposite sides until you and Winnie started hanging out more frequently in public and you got into an argument with Diggory. Of course, that didn’t affect their relationship — they weren’t particularly close anyway — mainly since Winnie wouldn’t partake in the fights.

“Oh, sorry!” She jumped off of you in a blink, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head calmly, feeling a wave of sleepiness wash over you; all that talking finally caught up to you, “I’m all right Winnie, just feeling a bit tired. I think I’m going to go back to sleep soon.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that right now, Mr. (Surname).” A wise voice spoke from near the entrance of the infirmary. 

The three of you turned to see Madame Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Oh, Merlin, not him. The old man continued one more, “Ms. Campbell, do you mind leaving us for a moment? I need to have a private chat with these two young men.”

Winnie looked at you, a bit hurt and confused, and you motioned her to leave with a nod. Madame Pomfrey ushered her out and followed, closing the door behind herself.

With that, you were left alone with your ex-rival and probably the only person in the school that you’ve never liked throughout your education at Hogwarts. Of course, you could comprehend why the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs liked him and even why some Ravenclaws did as well. He was generally a well-regarded wizard: powerful and capable of protecting the school if anything happened.

But, like most Slytherins — and most of Hogwarts, in fact — you saw how much better he treated the Gryffindors compared to the others and his dislike towards your own house. You knew if he could, he’d automatically fail all the Slytherins. You never understood why he hated your house. Perhaps because it was the same as many dark wixes, including He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, yet you found it odd that he would let those prejudices affect his view on all Slytherins.

“Now, Mr. Diggory, Mr. (Surname), I’d like to discuss on what happened on Friday.” The headmaster said, “From what I understand, you both tought it to be a good idea to play a Quidditch match, just the two of you, outside in the tempest. Am I correct.”

You nodded, “Kind of, although there’s more to the story than that.”

Dumbledore sighed, “You know we cannot accept such impudence in Hogwarts, especially with guests around. You are lucky barely anyone has been informed of the incident. I was expecting more from students such as yourself.”

“For such immature behaviour, I’m going to have to remove points from your Houses. Such a dangerous situation cannot be overlooked, and the punishment will be harsh. I will be taking away 100 points from Slytherin.”

Both you and Diggory paused, awaiting him to continue.

It was you who broke the silence, a bit pissed off, “What about Diggory?”

Dumbledore tsked, “The involvement of Mr. Diggory, the Hogwarts Champion would be problematic for our reputation, thus I must unfortunately appoint the punishment to you, Mr. (Surname). Besides, you were the one to hurt yourself while flying, it’s only just.”

You looked at him with your mouth agape and a wall of rage building up in your heart, but before you could utter a word, Diggory spoke, “Headmaster, if I may. It wasn’t (Surname)’s fault.”

“Come again, Mr. Diggory?”

“Well, first of all, the fight was my idea. I pressured (Surname) to do it, although he clearly just wanted to have a civilized conversation with me. Not only that, but it was also my fault for his injuries. I wanted to prove myself to be better than him, so I added the Bludgers as an extra challenge, and (Surname) got hurt because of my stupid actions. If there’s anyone to punish, it’s me.”

Dumbledore considered this for a moment, “Again, we can’t have you involved, Mr. Diggory; it would make Hogwarts seem like a school who choses irresponsible people as our Champion and we cannot have that-”

“Then don’t afflict any punishment,” Diggory retorted, “We’re making up already. Arguing was the source of this incident, and now that we’ve communicated, it will not happen anymore.”

Dumbledore paused, rather taken aback at how much Diggory was defending you, and truth be told, so were you. Was this perhaps his way of redeeming himself in your eyes? 

“Mr. Diggory, I assure you, it is not that simple. What would the people think?”

“They don’t need to know.” Diggory responded, “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Headmaster, but it’s clearly antagonizing (Surname), despite him doing no wrong. I don’t know what grudge you have against him, but you should push it aside when assigning punishments.”

That surely stunned Dumbledore into silence. “Very well. No points shall be removed, but I expect you to be on your best behaviour.” He said curtly, although you swore it was directed mainly towards you.

The old man tipped his hat and bid both of you a good day as he left the infirmary.

When the door closed fully, you turned to Diggory, “Why did you do that for me? We’re not friends and I didn’t think that a simple chat about our feelings would flip your whole personality and opinion on me.”

“Well, I can’t say I consider you as someone close, either. But I’m trying to improve on myself for the good of our school and our peers.” He told you calmly, “But for now, I have to get breakfast and study I don’t think being the Hogwarts champion excuses me from my duties as a student.” He smirked briefly at you. “If you’d like, I can come over again.”

You smiled back, your eyelids feeling heavy at every word he said, “If you want to, but you don’t got to Diggory.”

As he neared the doorway, his book — which you had completely forgotten about — tucked under his arm, he turned back towards you, “Please, call me Cedric.”

...

If you'd like to request fanfiction, please check out my Masterlist (which has all the fandoms I write for) and my Request Page (which has the rules about what I write).

[neomechanicaldoll]

Beast yeast episode 8 spoilers!

So. I've been going a little bit cuckoo bananas over the new update and its happenings, and I just cannot get this stupid game out of my head. and thus to cope I have made

The pure vanilla conspiracy

Basically just a bunch of things both big and small that I find kind of strange about pure vanilla cookie and associated things

Starting small we have: the pure vanilla kingdom and my first thought is, how is it floating? Just... how did it get there. I don't think it's natural and even if it were how would cookies of gotten up there. In the story gingerbrave and co get up there by using a teleporter and I can't think of a way anyone could of gotten up to the floating island to build it if it were a natural structure.

And speaking of that teleporter, the pure vanilla kingdom is surprisingly technologically advanced. Of course the golden cheese kingdom has all its stuff going on but that place is the exception to everywhere else, the only other places with automations and/or machines I can think of off the top of my head is creme republic, city of wizards and whatever was going on in the summer music festival story(I haven't really played much of that so idk) there could be some I'm missing that I'm just not thinking of right now but point is the pure vanilla kingdom is surprisingly advanced compared to most other places

Quick another thing is the pure vanilla kingdom possibly being responsible for the valley beneath it being so baren, there's something to be said here but I don't remember remember what so uh

Moving on to actually important stuff, I wanna talk about pure vanilla cookies design and the design motifs associated with him.

Basic stuff out of the way first, pure vanilla cookie looks like an ice cream cone and I think that's pretty cool

Next I've got to talk about the eight pointed star which if you haven't noticed important characters (pretty much just exclusively the beasts and the ancients) have certain symbols or sets of symbols tied to them (basically like a visual leitmotif) when these symbols show up somewhere it signifies the characters connection to that thing and pure vanilla's is an eight pointed star (specifically an eight pointed one not a six pointed star those show up everywhere) and so here are some places where I have found said star

Predictable places are of course on pure vanilla cookie's design, the pure vanilla kingdom some and episodes 7 and 8 of beast yeast (only in the background though). More interesting possibly lore important places for this to be is his soul jam (I know this one seems obvious but I'll get to why it's interesting later), on the avatar of destiny's design (and I WILL be talking about this one just you wait), both dream station and eternal city of wizards (I'm not totally sure if this one holds any implications or if devsis just wanted more shapes for stars but they are there and if it is intentional than, oh my does it make things interesting)

There is 100% more places than this since I've mostly just looked through the backgrounds of the world maps, I'm just not bothered enough to look through the whole story and the level backgrounds and decors, maybe I'll do it another day

So- avatar of destiny

I am admittedly a little confused about this thing I really thought it might come into play in these past few updates and it kind of just hasn't, it wasn't even really hinted towards. I am an avid pure vanilla cookie will be avatar of destiny theory enjoyer and I still think that it'll be involved in the story but now I'm not exactly sure how. I originally thought that pure vanilla cookie would become the avatar of destiny a la dark cacao cookie in episode 14 which I still think is a possibility for it to happen I'm just not sure exactly how now. Although there is that one strange line shadow milk cookie has in his interaction with candy apple cookie that has some very fun implications.

But all that aside let's look at the design!

All this considered I feel like there's no possible way that the avatar of destiny and pure vanilla cookie aren't related in some way. I would compare the attacks avatar of destiny and pure vanilla have but aod isn't in guild raid right now and I don't have super sparkle pure vanilla yet so I can't (also I don't want to)

Ok now it's soul jam time. I can't really say alot about this bit because there's no that much information so uh. Pure vanilla cookie's soul jam is kinda really strange, like why does it look like this

It's so strange, pure vanilla's soul jam is the only one that looks different when in its non physical form. There's not really much I can say about this since nothing in the game ever comments on this, although there is something interesting where whenever the light of truth talks to pure vanilla cookie his soul jam appears on screen in comparison whenever shadow milk cookie talks to pure vanilla whilst pretending to be the light of truth this doesn't happen which means me think that shadow milk is unaware of pure vanilla's soul jam being like it is, just some food for thought

Now we finally talk personality and in terms of character the new updates have been a all you can eat buffet, but we're here to talk suspicious things incase you've forgotten which you probably have by now. It was mentioned in a post by piromina that pure vanilla is being mighty suspicious especially during that ending part of beacon of truth and it has made me think a little. When the other golden cheese and dark cacao cookie awakened they did so by denying the ideology of their counterparts (I think, I don't remember completely) but pure vanilla doesn't. Instead of doing something like I dunno just believing real hard he tricks shadow milk cookie, something that shadow milk would do himself. Also that lie shall vanquish a lie line was pretty concerning, I don't think pure vanilla cookie is entirely ok (I hope he isn't, I hope devsis puts him in the metaphorical torture blender again \affectionate)

Oooo suprise shadow milk section. Uh "why is this here? Isn't this supposed to be the pure vanilla cookie conspiracy?" don't worry about it, I just discovered some stuff during my crappy research and thought I should bring them up

So fun things I found, shadow milk eye motif on the walls of that one cave, y'know that one cave with the tapestrys of pure vanilla, it's that one and the weird blueberry eye plant things in city of wizards so that's cool

Uuuhh ya tgis was uh fun definitely helped with the brain worms I would do more character analysis stuff but I'm too tired to, maybe I'll come back another day, who knows

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Yuji itadori x tall reader head canons

♡ The moment Yuji lays eyes on you, it’s game over for him. You’re exactly his type tall, strong, blessed and he’s already imagining what your wedding photos would look like.

♡ He’s so confident when he confesses, too. Probably flashes you that goofy, boyish grin and says something like:

"Hey, I think you’re really cool. Wanna go out with me?"

And you? You look down at him (literally) and just go:

"Sorry, you’re too short."

Immediate psychological damage. Yuji.exe has stopped working.

He stands there, smiling on the outside but internally combusting.

"Too short? Too SHORT???"

But it gets worse. He asks, trying to salvage his pride:

"Then… what’s your type?"

And you, without hesitation:

"Todo."

MORTAL WOUND. DEATH. PAIN.

♡ Bro just got rejected and his best friend got praised in the same breath.

You walk away, completely unaware that you just shattered his entire ego.

Meanwhile, Yuji is standing there, staring at Todo from across the training field like a betrayed shonen protagonist.

♡ Cue maldative dreaming.

"so when I asked her out , she said I wasn't her type"

"I wish I was a little bit taller…"

"I wish I was a baller…"

"i wish I was 6 foot baller"

"I wish I had a girl , I'll call"

♡ He starts looking up height-enhancing exercises on Google. Hanging from bars, stretching his legs, drinking so much milk this man is on a mission.

♡ Considers asking Gojo if there’s a cursed technique that can make him taller.

At some point, Megumi just sighs and says:

"You’re never gonna be taller than Todo. Accept it."

Yuji refuses. He refuses.

♡ Starts wearing shoes with thick soles, hoping to gain even an inch.

♡ When you and Todo are sparring, and Todo lifts you effortlessly, Yuji is in the background dying inside.

♡ Eventually, he just stares at himself in the mirror like:

"Maybe she’ll fall for my personality instead… right?"

♡ Meanwhile, Todo has no idea any of this is happening. He’s just vibing, calling Yuji his besto friendo, completely oblivious to the emotional crisis happening next to him.

Wish granted

♡ After weeks of maldative dreaming, failed height-increasing attempts, and watching you simp for Todo, Yuji was ready to accept his fate.

But then, fate does him a solid.

♡Gojo sensei, in his infinite wisdom (or trolling tendencies), pairs you and Yuji as training partners for an entire month. (Fox he did that on purpose)

♡Yuji is initially like, “Oh god, this is gonna be painful.” He’s fully expecting you to talk about Todo 24/7 while he suffers in silence.

♡ But after a week of working together, he realizes something.

You’re actually… really cool.

Not just in a “wow, hot person” way but in a “holy shit, I really like talking to them” way.

You hype him up during training and laugh at his dumb jokes.

You don’t baby him you challenge him, push him to be stronger.

And when he actually manages to land a hit on you during sparring, you grin and say, “Damn, shortie’s fast.”

♡ Normally, the height comment would kill him. But… why is he blushing instead???

♡ Meanwhile, you? You were obsessed with Todo.

♡ But now? Yuji’s got you questioning everything.

♡ Like, why does his laugh make your chest feel weird?

♡ Why do you find yourself looking for him in a crowded room?

♡ And why, for the love of all things holy, do his stupid brown eyes make your heart race???

♡ Todo doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. Especially not when Yuji looks at you like that.

♡ It all officially clicks for both of you one night after an intense training session.

♡ You’re both exhausted, lying on the ground, staring at the sky. And out of nowhere, Yuji just mumbles:

“I don’t even care about being taller anymore… I just wanna be good enough for you.”

Your heart? Gone. Exploded.

You turn to face him, and without thinking, you say:

“You were always good enough, idiot.”

And then you kiss him.

Congratulations, Yuji. You may not have gotten taller…

But you got the girl.

This was inspired by this edit

AND THIS WAS REQUESTED IF U HAVE ABY REQUESTS PLESSE TELL.

[fandom-susceptible]

The Dragon Prince Rewatch Liveblog

Echoes of Thunder

Knowing who Aaravos is makes this intro hit different. How did Ziard discover dark magic again bro? Huh? What exactly caused that to happen? You wanna share that part of the story bro? Or how humans weren't the only ones displaced by the divide of the continent? No, because you're not here to share history, you're here to manipulate people.

Neat - so the first named characters we see in the show aren't the dragaang by a long shot. It goes Sol Regem, Ziard (not that he matters as much later), Aaravos, Avizandum, Aditi, and then Amaya.

Callum being startled by the thunder but instantly going into big brother mode to comfort Ezran when he hears Ezran yelp is such a good moment.

I rewatched the first elf scene recently to analyze Runaan's behavior here and I still love everything about it. Runaan is so fucking massive compared to the other assassins. He had to know she would hesitate. But he had to know if she would hesitate now or when it came to their targets, so he tested her - and she makes the worst mistake she could make as a Moonshadow elf, but unwittingly sets off a plot that will allow her to save even more people.

Wtf do Harrow's guards think about Viren? This dude just bursts into the king's bedroom unannounced apparently regularly enough that he has an ongoing discussion with Harrow about it.

I'm convinced Viren was planning on getting Harrow killed from the beginning. That's why he didn't want to send for Amaya.

Knowing that Runaan is her dad now makes the soft tone of the "Well done, Rayla." And her flustered response hit even harder. He tested her. She lied. He thinks she passed. She knows she's lying to him. She's not just lying to her boss, she's lying to the one person in the world whose opinion matters to her more than anyone else (except perhaps Ethari).

The jelly tart theft scene makes me so happy because it's so clear they've done this before, especially when Barius lets them do it later.

I love how Soren actually does try to make Callum look good in front of Claudia. I love how being a big brother is so firmly part of his personality that he goes into that mode even with Callum even during his "bully" phase.

Harrow tries so hard to make this a happy thing for the boys, and Callum tries just as hard to support that worldview for Ezran, and my heart hurts over it.

"What are they, minstrels or something?" And Rayla says Soren doesn't understand sarcasm. He's SO sarcastic with his dad, I love it.

They build up the Moonshadow elves as being "unstoppable" under the full moon, and work so hard on these magical solutions, but I can't help but notice/remember that Soren did in fact manage to stop them. Like that is in fact a thing that happened. Even sparing barely any time to actually prepare for defending, it wouldn't have mattered that Ezran and Callum left the castle that night, because none of the assassins actually made it past Harrow's room. They only got one target and that's with the Crownguard having virtually no time to brace for the attack. Viren's been undermining the military defenses since the very beginning.

Soren may have been a dick about forcing Callum to stay behind but he was in fact correct to do so, Callum doesn't have the training to be going into all out battle at this point. He's safer staying behind.

The contrast between Callum's "Your Majesty" but also so easily calling Harrow "my father" to Soren, and everyone in the room knowing Runaan is her father but Rayla using his name

This fandom really takes you through a series of opinions about the oath the assassins take, doesn't it? First watch as a kid I was like, yeah, ok, this makes sense to me. Second as a teenager I was like, oooh, very flawed vengeful system, anyone who survived this would need a redemption arc. Now, as an adult, having the full context of a couple graphic novels up to Season 7 . . . yeah, it's a flawed system. But it's a flawed system based on over a thousand years of marginalization. These elves didn't make this call; Zubeia called on them, and what were they going to do, say no? Last time they started a fight with the rest of Xadia they lost miserably. They do not have the numbers to justify arguing with the Queen of Dragons. They're doing the best they can with a culture older than any of them can remember and the information they have about current events. We should criticize their culture, sure, but the individuals are less to blame than we might think at first.

Soren's been leading the Crownguard since he was 16 and you can really tell from how his older subordinates just sigh at his stupid jokes

I forgot about Runaan poisoning his arrows. Dude is thorough. Also, the lore of how arcanum magic works is fascinating; Runaan's said to be one of the best with moon magic, but still uses the moon opal necklace Ethari gave him to cast the spell to hide them.

Also, "I saw the fear in his eyes!" "Of course he was afraid! But you had a job to do!" is such a loaded exchange. Runaan isn't trying to argue with her reasons. He doesn't contradict her. He just says that she should have done it anyway, because now her own people are in danger instead. It's also interesting because she reacts that strongly to fear of death; which makes so much sense with the Moonshadow cultural view of death as being nothing to be afraid of, because it's just the next phase of existence. Of course she thought she could do it; she didn't expect her targets to be afraid, because she doesn't know anyone who would be.

[midnight--sadness]

At the wedding of any gihun plus red flags

Jungbae: i object, do you remember that promise you made when we were young. When I said we are friends and therefore if I say your future spouse is stupid and I don't like them that you would break up with them

Gihun: jungbae we were 7

Or jungbae I will tell your mom what really happened that day with x if you don't this nonsense

Just schengians that jungbae and gihun get up to.

I love your blog so much.

i love your blog too 💖🤧

stop bc jungbae would do this 😭😭😭😭

the priest would ask if anyone objects and jungbae would raise his hand and say he does! and everyone would gasp and look at him and gihun would just sigh defeatedly

meanwhile inho would be trying not to kill jungbae and daeho would be ready to defend jungbae even though he has no idea where he's going

[ticklepinions]

So I've been thinking of superpowers recently and the creative ways you could use them. Especially when you know what is invovled. So enjoy these thoughts while they last.

The Empath

You didn't think much befriending an empath. Sure it was certainly an adjustment, especially with the thought of not being able to hide your feelings (which you are definitely not known to do in the slightest, nuh uh, not at all). They've assured you countless times that they can't read your mind, giving you some comfort. With just how perceptive they've become it certainly felt like they were in fact a secret telepath.

"I just take the emotions I sense into context" they say.

Maybe sass was their superpower too. It felt good being known, but also terrifying. You didn't have to get it right with them, as though they were already 10 steps ahead. Those feelings you couldn't put into words? Yeah, they felt them, and they understood. What was really heartwarming though was the gentle hand on your shoulder, and mildly concerned gaze that patiently and intently listened to you stuttering over yourself. For someone who could easily "solve" the problem, they still chose to take the time to listen and hear you.

So maybe you were a bit concerned that your privacy would be invaded, not every feeling is rational and sometimes you'd rather keep them to yourself if that's what's best for you. The first time they told you of their abilities they emphasized that they aren't always scanning you for how you feel... For one, it is exhausting sensing the feelings of those around you 24/7, and two, well they also felt guilty about the whole privacy thing.

-

It happened out of nowhere. Perhaps staying up late brought out a playful energy between the both of you. It started out as a pillow fight.

~

"What's it like to... feel? Like do you see things or?"

"Sometimes it's like I'm experiencing the emotion myself, depending on how... intense it is. So I might blush or feel an ache in my chest. Other times, for me at least, I see an image or colours. Like when you passed that test in highschool I saw a bright yellow and lots of puppies."

~

You being the cheeky one that you are, had hit them square in the face. Their utter shock palpable, causing you to double over in laughter.

They saw puppies, lots of them, and flashes of yellow popped up in their mind. They smiled fondly, a mock annoyance to their glare.

"You think that's funny? I'll give you something to laugh about"

Time slowed as a well placed hand squeezed your left side, shooting electric sensations throughout your body. It tickled. A whirlwind of colours flashed in their mind purple (surprise), orange (nervousness) and light pink (mild embarrassment). You giggled despite yourself, failing to maintain your composure. Those colours weren't out of the ordinary but while their fingers gently clawed at your ribs- sky blue. It happened to be your favourite. It was what they often saw when you were together.

~

"What colour is happiness?"

"Everyone has their own unique uh colour scheme... That person you complimented was a dark green. Yours though is sky blue"

"That's my favourite"

"I know"

~

The same colour that flooded their mind when you were eating something you liked. The colour that appeared when they held you or when you saw a cute animal. It was a colour that signified a pleasant experience and with small bursts of green, giddiness too. Through squeaks and chortles and titters you manage to look at them. A furrowed brow and zoned expression was all you needed to see to know that they knew. It was enough to snap them out of it, the vibrant sky blue turning an intense pink. You were utterly embarrassed. It didn't help when you saw their gentle smile, and soon you sensed something trying to comfort you. Not in a physical sense no, but as though they reached out to telepathically comfort you. This wasn't entirely new, you've felt this before. When you weren't sure of yourself, or feeling down, this gentleness seemed to emanate from them, often putting you at ease. As you sputtered and tripped over your words, they sat there and listened and nodded and understood. When all was said and done sky blue faded into their mind once more, courtesy of your sensitive sides.

So maybe being friends with an empath wasn't so bad. You'll definitely never forget the day you were tickled pink.

[scaryfangirl2001]

The void continues to ripple and shift around them, as if the very fabric of reality strains against its own limits. Jordan, Soth, and Jonathan find themselves in an uneasy yet curious silence, each contemplating the strange convergence of their worlds. Suddenly, a small figure tumbles out of the still-closing rift, her long brown hair floating around her like a halo.

Annabon House lands softly on the crumbling concrete, her mismatched fluffy socks peeking out from beneath her ballet recital outfit. Clutching a puzzle box tightly to her chest, she looks around with wide, intelligent eyes, taking in the new surroundings and the unusual company.

Jordan approaches her gently, careful not to startle the young girl. "Hey there, you alright?" he asks, offering a reassuring smile.

Annabon nods, her eyes locking onto Jordan's. "I'm okay," she replies, her voice steady despite the surreal circumstances. "But where am I? And who are you?"

Soth steps forward, his expression softening as he crouches down to her level. "You're in a bit of a strange place, but you're safe with us. I'm Sothera Vidar, but you can call me Soth. This is Jordan and Jonathan."

Jonathan, still strumming absentmindedly on his guitar, looks over and gives her a nod. "Welcome to the madhouse, kid."

Annabon giggles, finding some comfort in the familiarity of the adults' presence. "I'm Julianna-Bonita House, but you can call me Annabon. I'm usually better at introducing myself, but this place is so... odd."

Jordan notices her interest in the void and its shifting patterns. "You seem pretty brave, Annabon. How did you end up here?"

She shrugs, her analytical mind already working to piece together the puzzle. "I'm not sure, but I was with my dads, and then I found myself here. They're both doctors, so I'm used to strange things happening."

Soth stands up, glancing at Jordan and Jonathan. "Well, it looks like we've got a new member in our little crew. Let's make sure she stays safe while we figure this out."

Jonathan raises an eyebrow, his sarcastic charm kicking in. "So, what's the plan, fearless leader?" he asks, looking at Jordan.

Jordan straightens, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "The plan is to find a way out of this void and get everyone back where they belong. We'll figure this out, together."

As they set off, Annabon walks beside Jordan, her small hand clutching his. "Do you think we'll find my dads?" she asks, her voice filled with hope.

Jordan squeezes her hand reassuringly. "I promise we'll do everything we can to find them."

Julianna-Bonita House:

Current Age: 7

Nickname: Annabon

Family: Diagnostician amputated Daddy Greg, Oncologist masterchef Papa Jim-Jim, 4-year-old sister Misty

wears mismatched fluffy socks

tends to carry puzzles with her

very picky eater despite her papa's good cooking

doesn't have a big sweet tooth but never turns down a candy cane

Math is her best subject and sometimes offers tutoring to struggling classmates. For a small fee, of course

strong sense of empathy

shows her leadership and negotiation skills

Her height is short for her age

has long brown hair

HEY, WHO WANTS TO MAKE A OC TRAIN!

Ok now that I have your attention, here is what I'm thinking... 

We are going to create the BIGGEST CROSSOVER between everyone’s OC’s. It’s going to be like a relay race between a whole bunch of different writers. Everyone will have an opportunity to add their OC and their part of the story into the mix.

It’s going to be one CHAOTIC MESS! But that's what's going to make it so fun!

How this will work:

I’ll start with my own section of the story.

You’ll continue the story, adding your OC and their perspective.

Leave your part open-ended so the next person can continue.

The more OCs that join, the harder it will be to keep track—good luck! 😆

You can write a single paragraph or a full scene—whatever you’re comfortable with!

All skill levels are welcome! Please join and we want you in!

After you write your tid bit, you can write a few facts about your character, as a reference for other writers

BUT….

Here are some rules to abide by:

Please keep this story clean. I have minors reading this. 

So no swearing, no gore, no spice, just keep it PG. Please!-keep it fun for everyone!

Other than that you are free to take the story in any direction you want! 

Here is the starting point of our adventure. If you wish to join this little fesco, reblog this post, and add your part of the adventure!.

Let the chaos begin!

White nothingness swirled around him, expanding in all directions, erasing any hints of life. The horizon line was blurred, nothing more than a suggestion at this point.

Jordan Waystone stood on what remained of a parking lot, a jagged slab of concrete adrift in the void. Bits of concrete crumbled around the edges. A broken sign clung to the pavement. The colorful letters of the sign were faded and peeling, slowly being claimed by the void. It was like looking at a faded photograph. It was wrong. Everything in here was wrong.

Jordan watched the void. His grey hoodie hung loosely around his frame. The fabric floated around him, along with his headphone cord. A pair of blue ear phones sat comfortably on top of his hair, squashing the tight curly mess. Music played gently through the speakers, and his fingers moved in tune, matching each beat with a drum of his fingers.

"Bloody! They should be here by now," he muttered. His fingers sped up in annoyance. He had timed this. He knew when the void was about to shift. Still, the whiteness persisted. Jordan huffed, pulling his headphones off his ears. The sudden quietness was deafening. He itched to put the headphones back on.

A toy truck floated next to his face. Jordan snagged it out of the air, studying it between his fingertips. It was bright yellow, a stark contrast to his olive skin tone. It was cool to the touch, and he could feel its weight in his palm.

"Proper strange," he thought.

It must be new. That meant it was near. He was close, so close. Things would be right again. He would make them right. He realized his hand had closed into a tight fist. He opened it, revealing the lorry in his hand. An inscription on the side of the truck caught his eye. It was written in black marker: "Mark, 14." He guessed the number was the boy’s age. He wasn’t much older than he was, Jordan thought with surprise.

He breathed out. Even if it was here, he wouldn’t be able to fight it. He released the toy truck, watching it spin aimlessly into the void.

The void rippled. Jordan’s head snapped up. The dimensions walls moved outwards, like it was made out of liquid.

"Finally," Jordan breathed. He smiled, watching as the void collapsed in on itself, drawing inward into a knot. Creating a small black hole in the center.

Jordan kicked upwards, sending his body toward the rift. The void continued to draw on itself, forming a black dot in the center of the white canvas. Then it exploded outwards, sending ripples across the expanse. Each ripple hit him, sending a tingling sensation along his body. He pushed through drawing closer.

 The knot ripped open. Blue sky tumbled out, and scents of a different world flowed past him. Light, sunlight touched his skin. Something he had almost forgotten the feel of. All of it—so different from his home dimension. And it felt so right. 

A figure tumbled out of the tear. They flailed, their arms spun wildly. They kicked trying to right themselves. 

Jordan floated next to them. The figure jerked away, eyes wide.

"Oi! No need to look so miffed, mate," Jordan said, grinning. "I’m Jordan Waystone, and I need your help."

Jorden way stone:

personality: formal, analytical. usually the calm one but will hold a grudge.

Has a need to make everything right.

He has a problem with things being out of place.

About 16 years old.

likes music

He's not technically part of the novel i'm writing.

But I love him ether way

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

here's part 7! hope you guys enjoy! part 8 will be uploaded tomorrow!

(p.s my headcanon explainations are in the tags if you're curious)

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 8

there's a masterlist now!

*after everyone had gone inside, telemachus left to go to his room to change while penelope and odysseus headed to theirs*

*penelope had help getting changed/ready from her handmaiden, however odysseus doesn’t start changing, instead he’s just sitting on a lounge chair looking out the window at the sun setting*

penelope: *now ready for the evening*

penelope: *to her handmaiden* thank you for your help. 

penelope: *smiles as she’s walking to the bedroom door with her* 

penelope: *remembers something* oh! please let the others know to make sure you all grab yourself enough to eat after all the hard work the past couple of days! or take some of the remaining fish & meat home to your families!

penelope: *waves goodbye as her handmaiden leaves the room*

penelope: *closes the door and turns to face odysseus*

odysseus: *still staring out the window*

penelope: odysseus?

odysseus: *no response*

penelope: *understands he doesn’t mean to ignore her* 

penelope: *slowly walks towards him* my love, it's just you and i now

odysseus: *finally realises penelope was calling out to him* 

odysseus: *turns his head to her* i’m sorry penelope

odysseus: *looks her up and down, always amazed by the beauty of his wife*

penelope: *giggles as she see the lovestruck look on odysseus face*

penelope: *stops just in front of him and twirls around*

penelope: see something you like?

odysseus: *standing up and pulls her into him by her waist* 

odysseus: always *goes in for a kiss*

penelope: *accepts the kiss*

penelope: *giggles when odysseus keeps planting kisses all over her face*

penelope: my dear husband, stop distracting me! 

penelope: it’s time for you to get ready.

odysseus: *stops the kisses and looks down and sighs*

penelope: *cups his cheek with her hand and turns his face back to hers* 

penelope: you know i’m not going to force you to wear anything you don’t want to, right?

odysseus: *leans into her hand* i know, i know…

odysseus: it’s so silly of me isn’t, it’s just clothing-

penelope: *now holding his face with both her hands* nothing is silly, not if it makes you uncomfortable my love

odysseus: *smiles* i love you

penelope: *smiles back* i love you too

penelope: *lets his face go* now, what would you like to wear tonight? 

odysseus: *looking at the tyrian purple pelops she's wearing* i would like to match my beautiful wife

penelope: *knows she had a chiton made for him at the same time she had her pelops made* ok, let's get you matching then

*once odysseus is ready, him and penelope leave their room and make their way to the palace entrance ready to greet their dinner guests*

*when they arrive, they see telemachus; who is dressed in more ‘princely’ attire than his usual day-to-day clothing, talking to athena who arrived not long ago*

telemachus: oh! mother, father, you're ready!

athena: *turning to them*

athena: *smiling* good evening

penelope: *smiles back* good evening lady athena

athena: please penelope, i think we’ve known each other long enough… especially after everything in the past year

athena: just athena is fine

penelope: *smiles* sure…athena

odysseus: *looking at athena* 

odysseus: it’s still so weird not seeing you in all your armour

athena: *laughs* well i thought the occasion didn’t require it

*the four of them continue talking for a little bit*

athena: i see that my uncle hasn’t arrived yet.

telemachus: *turns to his father* you told him it was tonight right?

odysseus: *nods* i did

odysseus: *thinks for moment and sighs* 

odysseus: he’s not going to come to this entrance… but i know where he’ll be

athena: i’ll go with you to get him

telemachus: me too!

penelope: *laughs* well i guess i might as well join too

odysseus: let’s go then

*they all head in the direction of the entrance for the palace gardens*

odysseus: *stops them before they all head outside* ok maybe we don’t all need to go down to the sea

odysseus: i’ll go meet him and we’ll both join you shortly

*telemachus, penelope and athena wait by the entrance talking amongst themselves, while odysseus makes his way down to the palace cove*

*odysseus arrives at the cove when he sees poseidon making his way out of the water*

poseidon: *sees odysseus* 

poseidon: king of ithaca

odysseus: *deadpan expression* poseidon.

poseidon: *rolls his eyes at odysseus, for the clear lack of title for him*

odysseus: the others are waiting, shall we get going?

poseidon: *about to agree when he remembers about the arrow*

poseidon: wai- uh i mean, i have a question before we leave…

odysseus: *eyebrow raised* 

poseidon: you're not… i don’t know, mad or angry with me or the sea’s inhabitants by any chance?

odysseus: huh?

poseidon: *pinches the bridge of his nose* has the sea or i, done anything to offend you in the past day?

odysseus: *now confused* no?

poseidon: *drops his hand from his face and then points at odysseus* then why did you shoot me?!

odysseus: *even more confused* shoot yo- whAT?

poseidon: *reaches into his chiton and pulls out the arrow he kept there* 

poseidon: *shows the arrow to odysseus* please tell me then, what have i done that's got you shooting arrows at the sea?

odysseus: *looking at the arrow, then up to poseidon* i've not shot any arrows at the sea? 

odysseus: also, who shoots arrows into the sea?!

poseidon: *hands up in the air in agreement, the arrow being thrown behind him* 

poseidon: that's what i said! but who else would it be? it hit the waters of this cove, so unless-

odysseus: *suddenly realises where the arrow has come from*

odysseus: *starts laughing*

poseidon: *brings his hands down and narrows his eyes at odysseus* what is so funny?

odysseus: *wiping a tear away from his eye from laughing so much* my son

poseidon: *now his turn to be confused* huh?

odysseus: *having collected himself * my son, he shot the arrow during archery practice

poseidon: *eyebrow raised* and you're teaching your son to shoot the sea… because?

odysseus: *rolls his eyes* it was an accident, my wife startled him and he misfired. 

odysseus: *lets out a tiny chuckle* i can’t believe it made its way to the sea though 

poseidon: oh

odysseus: yeah ‘oh’ 

odysseus: why would you think i’d shoot the sea anyway? 

poseidon: *arms now crossed and looking away from odysseus* 

poseidon: who knows with you…

odysseus : *smirking* oh poseidon…i’d just use other ways to get your attention

poseidon: *whips his head back to odysseus* 

poseidon: *sees odysseus’ shit-eating grin*

poseidon: oh be quiet… what if i arrived early? 

poseidon: *points at himself* i could have been hit!

odysseus: *snorts* oh please… an single arrow wouldn't kill you

odysseus: besides we both know you've been impaled with worse

odysseus: *turns to head back up to the palace* anyways, let's head up to the others

poseidon: *realising what odysseus said* wait-

poseidon: odysseus of ithaca!

odysseus: *just keeps walking ignoring poseidon’s outburst*

poseidon: *grumbles under his breath but swiftly walks to catch up odysseus* 

*odysseus & poseidon make their way to the palace garden entrance where now only athena is waiting*

odysseus: *looking to athena* where-

athena: *already knows what odysseus is going to ask* they headed to the dining hall.

athena: telemachus wanted to check some final things and penelope left to accompany him.

odysseus: *nods at her explanation*

athena: *turns to look at poseidon*

athena: *nods head at poseidon* uncle

poseidon: *blank look on his face* athena.

athena: *now looking at her nails* not seen you since you were up on olympus in apollo’s infirmary…

athena: *looks back at poseidon and grins* speaking of which… how’s your chest?

poseidon: *scoffs and crosses his arms* fine.

poseidon: *suddenly smirks back* need i remind you that you were also there for a similar  reason…how’s your face?

athena: *grin has left her face and now narrows her eyes at poseidon*

odysseus: *not wanting to deal with two bickering gods* 

odysseus: *sighs*

odysseus: *claps his hands together sharply* OK! how about we don’t fight in my palace, yeah?

odysseus: besides, telemachus has been extremely excited about tonight’s dinner, so i do not want anything ruining it…

odysseus: *makes sure to look at both of them*

odysseus: *red eyes appear & disappear in the blink of an eye*

odysseus: got it?

athena: *now semi-understands why poseidon listened to odysseus ‘requests’* uh-

poseidon: *putting an arm around athena’s shoulders* yep, no arguing here!

poseidon: *turns his head towards athena* isn’t that right my dear niece?

athena: *stares at poseidon in disbelief at the words ‘dear niece’*

athena: *turns to odysseus* you can’t be seri-

odysseus: *raises his eyebrow*

athena: *sighs* sure, no fighting in the palace

odysseus: *smiles* good. now i know you know where the dining hall is located athena, but poseidon doesn’t.

odysseus: so, if you’ll both please follow me.

odysseus: *starts walking down the hall*

athena: *shrugs poseidon’s arm off in disgust and follows odysseus*

poseidon: *sighs and also follows odysseus*

[front-facing-pokemon]