#mostly bc i like to keep my options open you never know

[yantao-enthusiast]

think we should start shaming monogamy more. like your relationship only has two people?? isn’t that weird…. i’m sure that would get boring, i couldn’t imagine having just one partner. i’m sure you’ll find another person too, you just haven’t met the right people. when are you getting another in your relationship?? oh never?? but sweetie don’t you want to add to your relationship, everyone wants to do that….

[realisticjupiter]

haihaii!! your profile has been like.... THERAPY to me bc the aib fixation is back AND ITS STRONG ESPECIALLY TOWARDS CHISHIYA 💔💔💔 i love the way u write as well !!

so with this could i request a touch starved chishiya... like a chishiya that needs readers attention so bad but is too embarrassed to downright tell them "I WANT CUDDLES" or smth... still he does everything in his power to get readers attention atp the only thing left is to just BEG

also could i be 🎶 anon ? i picture myself being very active here from now on... have a nice day!!

Summary: Chishiya can't sleep without you.

Genre: Fluffy

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None! :)

Word count: 784

a/n: Aghhhh i hope this is okay!!!!! That is actually so sweet of you, I'm so glad you've liked my account!!!<3 And ofc you can claim an emoji, hello 🎶!!

Chishiya tried everything to get you into bed with him. He tried seducing you, gaslighting you, and of course his manipulation tactics didn't work either.

All you were focused on was trying to fix the phone from last night's game. It was still on, so you thought it would be easier to get into before it powered off.

Every time he'd call your name, you'd brush him off. Mostly because he always used a certain tone of voice you've become far too familiar with when he tries to get what he wants.

All he wanted to do was kneel at your feet to tell you exactly what he wanted. To tell you he just wanted you to hold him, to tell you all he needed was your attention.

But he couldn't. He never has been able to ask for help, or ask for anything without feeling vulnerable for that matter. He was closed off, that's what people knew about him; that he didn't show those types of emotions in fear of being belittled.

Chishiya could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his eyes burning from keeping them open, but he knew no matter how hard he would toss and turn; he wouldn't be able to sleep without you.

It was pathetic, he'd admit that. It was a loop he found himself getting stuck into, and found there was no way out of it. He hid it pretty well, though. Through late nights where you'd fall asleep alone and wake up to him beside you. You truly had no idea he struggled so much.

He was so tired. He'd do anything if you'd just stop and sleep already.

And he found his last option, the one thing he dreaded the most.

"Y/n?" Chishiya whispered, his voice husky as he climbed out of bed and walked towards you with slow steps.

"What?" You hummed in response, never peeling your eyes away from the task at hand.

"Please," He spoke underneath his breath in an almost incoherent whisper as he stopped to stand beside the chair you sat in.

"I don't know what you want, Chishiya. No one is keeping you awake." You sighed, watching from the corner of your eye as he stood by your side, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You're keeping me awake." He murmured, watching your hands as they played around with the device's motherboard.

"How?" You said in defeat, finally turning your attention to him. You looked up at him with your hands thrown in your lap, clearly waiting for his response.

He let out a huff as he looked around the room; avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were soft and glassed over.

His next sentence was incoherent.

"What?"

[inaudible]

"Chishiya. Speak up, please." Your words were soft as you stood up from your seat, placing your hands on his upper arms.

"I can't sleep without you." He finally spoke, his words finally registering in your mind.

When he realized you had finally heard him, he felt like he could say anything. And with his new found confidence he continued to speak.

"Why is it so hard to ask you to touch me?" He breathed, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

You smiled at his soft demeanour. You knew how hard it must've been for him to admit something so close to himself, especially since it was about you. You've found a new side of Chishiya you haven't seen before.

You brought a hand to comb through his hair as the other scratched up and down his bare back, "I'm sorry, Chishiya. I should've just read your mind." You whispered against his shoulder as you held him close to your body.

Your words were an obvious tease, trying to humor the situation at hand. Which did make Chishiya snicker.

"You should have. You've always been able to." He muttered, wrapping his arms lazily around you.

You smiled warmly as he spoke, pulling away to drag his hand towards the bed. You climbed in with him closely behind you. He waited for you to get comfortable, before he joined you under the covers to tangle his limbs with yours.

"I'm proud of you, Chishiya." Your sultry breath hit his forehead as you mumbled against his skin.

He stared down at the way your bodies fit together, processing your words with a smile he knew you couldn't see.

"Now go to sleep, 'm here." You spoke once more into his skin, kissing his forehead and massaging your fingers into his scalp.

His cold fingers danced around your bare skin, trying to bring himself impossibly closer to you before his body fell limp into a night's sleep.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[imissivan]

so i think in every universe that’s not the present one, ivantill is requited openly and goofy and sometimes still repressed and bad at communicating, but however long it takes, they find each other. but i have to admit. what they’ve gone through — the lack of freedom, happiness, the total lack of human social networks, not even not being raised by humans but the total absence in their lives of humans who connect with humans AS HUMANS — rather than as human pets — it prevents ivan and till AND mizi and sua from forming relationships like we think of them. yknow? mizi and sua are much more open about their regard for each other, because of mizi’s unique character and situation, the level of innocence she’s able to retain. but the rest of them know what’s going on. the pain of that existence stunts what possibilities are available to them. in that environment, they do what they must to survive — which means ivan keeping his feelings under tight control and accepting his fate to yearn and never have; till deeply, deeply repressing whatever he feels for ivan bc mizi represents innocence and a hope for a joyful, free life that has been denied to all of them; sua not connecting with anyone besides mizi, marching to her death without consulting mizi bc it’s all she can think to offer. the circumstances of this universe are such that it’s nearly impossible for healthy or full human relationships to form. for children destined for alien stage — for whom growing old is already a distant dream, much less growing old with someone they love by their side — it’s even less likely. this is also what makes these relationships that DO form despite the circumstances so damn powerful and compelling — the time mizi and sua get to share (mizi crying with frustration when they drift apart when they’re so little) — the stability that ivan and till’s bond provides, even if it is volatile and characterized by miscommunications and misunderstandings. for me, with ivantill, it’s key that it’s NOT totally unrequited — the feelings till has for ivan are confused and unexamined, but like, i don’t blame till for that! he’s got plenty to worry about already, and the circumstances of the garden also exacerbate ivan’s struggles to communicate and understand his feelings properly, too. loving gently and warmly and out in the open like mizi does does not come naturally or at all to ivan in this world! and that adds barriers between ivan and till. but they still care for each other so much — till does look back, there are moments of tenderness, of ivan being different for till than other ppl, of till treating ivan differently, which along w the narrative structure and their relationship paralleling mizi and sua’s and so on, express a deep regard for ivan that goes mostly unexpressed / is made difficult by their situation.

but then!!! you look at the goddamn AUs and shit!!!! and one, look at ivan’s character — outside of the trauma of alien stage, he’s so much more open and soft and loving! to till, specifically — able to get his attention and form a relationship not just based on proximity or thru antagonizing him. that’s very important, in my eyes, to making ivantill work. it’s something ivan can’t do in alien stage, that kind of open expressive love, but if he could, i think it would present him as a viable option for love in till’s eyes (as much as such a thing can exist in that world). like at the bare minimum, till would KNOW — whether ivan confesses or not — that ivan loves him, be more aware or sure of that. ivan can express affection or admiration for till in the open, at times when till’s not asleep or distracted or whatever.

second, till is also different! mizi is not the only source of warmth and happiness in an otherwise bleak and deeply painful, abusive life. without those incredibly challenging circumstances forcing till into survival mode, he has more options for how he can imagine his life, relationships, and express himself. he doesn’t have to put his whole being into loving the one person who expresses warm love as a survival mechanism to keep inspiring himslf to live. instead, he can observe and better understand ivan. and ivan is also less difficult to understand, himself better at expressing himself. with fewer thorny barriers between the two complicating their attitudes towards one another, the two can be friends, best friends, without complication — and thus also more. and i feel like i can’t ever stop thinking about the biggest barrier to their relationship in the alien stage world, the lack of examples of loving human relationships. how do you know what it means to love someone, if you have never seen it? never felt it? i think about this on a queer level, too — took me forever to figure out that i DO feel certain kinds of attraction differently towards different kinds of people, that i do feel it at all, bc at first, i only had 1 narrow example of what romantic or sexual attraction could be. without examples of other possibilities, it never occurred to me that what i was feeling counted. and that’s still with and understanding of any concept of love or romantic relationship!! poor ivan and till are out there fuckin tryna invent human social networks from scratch, RIP

this has been such a long stream of consciousness thinking about these guys so i just want to mention one final thing.

THE GODDAMN ACTOR AU.

they can be platonic OF COURSE. but the depth of emotion and their bond and everything in the other universes — to me, actor AU is the healthiest and easiest and sweetest universe in which the two of them get together. they’re not in each others lives from childhood, and it works in their favor acrually — they’re both fully realized humans, who have lots of chemistry, who deeply admire each others abilities, have similar interests — if we can bring the knowledge of their dynamic and the depth of their bond from the alien stage world to consider what they’d be like together in the actor AU, like 🥹🥹🥺🥺🥺🥺. an open and confident and loving ivan. a mature and expressive and affectionate till. they’re at their best in actor AU, and it’s that AU that really settled my brain into “shipping these two forever and ever” mode. because it can’t happen in their original universe — not without huge changes and a lot of time, like even if they both escaped with their lives, they would need time to heal and grow into their own people before they could really have a health relationship. but in actor AU 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 what they have and can have in actor AU 🥺🥺🥺🥺 gives us a glimpse at what they could be, if they got that time, if they got that chance. what they can be in every other universe, whenever they get that chance. AHHHHH i just love them so freaking much

[flamingo-writes]

Autumn English Sky 

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Third person, self insert, fem reader, she/her pronouns used

Summary: Hobie goes out looking for one of his childhood friends, after a while of being missing and busy due to his Spider-Man duties. However when he finds her, she seems to have been struggling for a while. Hobie sits with her in an attempt to get her to open up about it.  Warnings: cursing, mentions of weight, weight-loss (but there’s no explicit description of the reader’s appearance other that having lost some weight), eating disorders, depression, Word Count: 1.7K 

Big shoutout to: @midnightnoiserose, every so often I go back and read the comments you leave to get a serotonin boost. Thank you for supporting my work so diligently 🥺💜

Putting the Author's note here bcs its longer than usual:

Author’s note: It’s been a while, I know. Life’s been busy I guess. ADHD-ing too close to the sun, dealing with adult life, work, periods where I feel burnt out, depressive episodes that come and go, you know how it is. Even though I’ve been constantly writing, I haven’t finished writing, nor I’ve written something I deem good enough to be posted. Whether it's my impostor syndrome, leaving stuff incomplete, or simply because my writing has been lazier, who knows. The thing is I haven’t posted anything in a while. As I’m writing this, I’m thinking: Hopefully this one will stick to the wall, like spaghetti. If you’re reading this, it means I made it. I finished writing something.  I guess this one will be slightly more personal? I’ve been mostly rummaging in my own life events and thoughts, looking for an outlet, so this might as well be that. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a while. Hobie can’t exactly place his mind as to how long it has been. He’s been busy. Between taking care of his own universe, protecting people, making art, subversive actions, and taking part in some of the missions assigned in other parts of the multiverse. He was busy, indeed. Not because he had the responsibility to respond to Miguel’s every request, but because his friends asked for help. It’s been hard, tiring even, but not impossible to balance everything happening in his life. Every once in a while he went incognito for a while to catch his breath and ground himself. 

But he had to admit, things slipped off his mind every so often. With Gwen’s constant presence lingering in his sailboat, he’d forgotten to check up on one of his friends. To check up on her, who he called by every pet name in existence but never actually calling her by her actual name. 

“Shit,” he sighed tiredly as he put his guitar aside and got off his bed. Gwen, who was hanging out as usual in his dimension, bouncing her drumsticks on the dining table gazed at him. 

“What did you forget?” She asked, already used to his quirks. 

“I’ll be right back, I might take a while,” he said, completely ignoring her question and grabbing a scarf and heading out into the chilly autumn afternoon. 

Gwen watched him leave, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t weird for Hobie to avoid questions. So this wasn’t anything new. Also when he said he’d be away for a while, that always ended up being at the very least six hours. So she guessed he had some important business to attend to. She sighed and kept drumming on the table. 

As Hobie swung around the city, his mask on, he took the usual route to her place. It wasn’t far away from the dock where his boat was docked. But as he swung past her flat building, he noticed all the lights were off. Gazing through the windows, there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. So he proceeded to keep swinging around the city, going to the usual spots she frequented. 

It was Saturday afternoon, so stopping by her workplace wasn’t an option, she wasn’t there. He tried her favourite coffee shop, nothing. He headed to the park she usually took her dog to, nothing. As his options narrowed down, he went to the public library, hoping to find her. She wasn’t there, not inside the library at least. But she was hanging out by one of the small gardens inside the old building. 

One of the small gardens, with a small playground, and a couple of benches, he spotted a hooded silhouette. Although, even with the hoodie over the head, he was quick to recognise her smell. That familiar smell he associated with a warm hug the countless times she snuck him into her room when he was homeless and she still lived with her parents and let him spend the night and sleep on the rug beside her bed, wrapped in blankets that smelled just like her. 

“Been lookin’ for ya” He said calmly as she was sipping something out of a paper cup. 

As if snapped out of her trance she looked up at him, meeting his honey eyes and smiled at him. 

“Hobie!” She said happily, although he was quick to pick up on the tired tone in her voice. 

Not only  her voice, but something about the eye bags under her eyes, even the sight of her face, he noticed something different. 

“Are you alright?” He asked as he sat beside her, and noticed her slight shivering, holding on to her paper cup as if clinging to the heat. He took off his scarf and wrapped it around her neck. “If you’re cold why don’t you go inside?”

She shook her head solemnly and gazed at the empty playground looking rather bright compared to the autumn dirty English sky. 

“I don’t mind the cold…” She admitted in a low voice. 

“You’ve lost weight.” He pointed out calmly, looking at her attentively. He was aware of her constant recovering-relapsing cycle, noticing how seeing her gain and maintaining her weight worked as an indicator that she was doing good. Seeing her lose weight meant something had triggered her relapse. 

“Sorry about that…” She sighed defeated. 

“Don’t apologise…” He pointed out as he kept gazing at her. “Is everything alright?” 

Hobie didn’t want to admit it, but he felt partially responsible. He knew how important he was to her, they were close friends. Or at least used to be. He’d been busy, absent, and she also hadn’t been reaching out as she would normally do. But he wasn’t looking for someone to blame. He was more worried about her current state. 

“Could be better, frankly…” She sighed and took another sip to her paper cup. “I’ve been maintaining my current weight for a few weeks…” She explained. “I mean, I know I’m looking thinner that I normally do…I lost weight, haven’t gained it back, but at least I haven’t kept losing any more weight…” 

Hobie hummed, and glanced back at her. “Care to share a little bit more, luv?” 

The silence lingered, filled by the howling of the wind. After several seconds. 

“Frankly speaking, I am not sure what happened…” She admitted. “One day, I just noticed my appetite was gone…” She looked at Hobie. 

The tired look in her eyes was enough to tell him she was telling the truth. Perhaps, in the beginning, her eating disorder was tied to self esteem and image issues. But her most recent relapses seemed to be tied to a feeling of losing control, and even an addiction. She’d explained to him that at some point it just felt like an addiction. It was harming, torturous, self destructive, but something about it was oddly comforting, sometimes even euphoric. It was something he couldn’t understand. His time being a homeless boy, the stomach aches he’d get from being hungry for so long were far from gratifying. He couldn’t understand how she’d find comfort in such a feeling. But he understood how addictions worked, and he was more than aware that addictions simply didn’t make any sense. Yet, they held their victim by the throat and seduced them over and over again despite the number of side effects. 

“I’m sorry,” Hobie said softly, filling in the silence. She hummed. 

“Don’t apologise…” She whispered softly in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s not your fault. I really don’t know what caused it…” 

“Maybe if I hadn’t gone MIA for so long…”

“Or maybe it’s just the seasonal depression,” She added and gazed at him. “You’ve been busy, I know that. And it’s fine. You being gone didn’t cause me to relapse,”

“I’m not saying it did. But maybe if I wasn’t missing for so long, maybe I could’ve checked in on you earlier and helped you,” 

Hobie watched her shake her head slightly and look away. 

“There’s no turning back time, plus it’s fine…My appetite is still gone, but I’m not actively losing weight…I just can’t bring myself to gain it back…”

“Baby steps, huh?” 

“I guess…” 

Hobie sighed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him, hugging her tightly. 

“I’m still sorry for suddenly disappearing. I just suck at managing my time,” He smiled when he heard her soft chuckle and her free hand wrapping around his body while the other kept holding her paper cup. “But I’m here now, okay?” He said looking down at her and pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. 

“Thank you,” She whispered softly and gazed at him. “The weather is getting colder, the sun setting earlier…and the fact that I’m busy with work as of lately…It’s starting to mess up with my head,” she explained calmly. “I haven’t been able to make any art either…”

“Life’s been busy, hey? It sucks…” Hobie pointed out. “You haven’t made any art because of a lack of time, or a lack of motivation?” 

“Both,” she admitted and gazed at Hobie. 

Hobie sighed. “Come on,” he said, standing up and offering a hand to her. 

“Where?” She asked and finished her drink. 

“Your place…it’s getting late. We can order some takeout, eat together, and make some art. It’ll do you good…” He purred softly. 

“And make what exactly?” she chuckled awkwardly as she stood up and held his hand as he pulled her with him and headed out of the library. 

“Anything…you draw and paint, the possibilities are endless…” He said with a warm and optimistic tone. “You write too so, either a poem or a short story…Just let that silly creative mind of yours spread it’s wings,” 

She chuckled and followed him. Throwing her paper cup on the first bin she found and headed out of the library. 

As Hobie had said, they stopped by some restaurant, ordered take out and went to her flat. They ate dinner, chatted, caught up, and spent the afternoon together. All attempts at trying to make art failed. Feeling rusty, she wasn’t able to make anything substantial, nor anything she liked. But even just the effort made her already feel some sort of relief. 

At the sight of her smile, Hobie felt his own lips curl into a smile as she watched her get frustrated, laugh, sigh and start over repeatedly, whining about being out of practice. He’d say something back, either a sarcastic comment, or a joke, anything in an attempt to keep that smile on her face. 

He decided to spend the night over, reminiscing of their teenage years, when he’d stay over the night in her room. When they were kids, he’d sleep on the rug next to her bed since her bed was that small. Now her bed wasn’t so small, allowing both of them to fit in there. The chilly weather was the perfect excuse to share the bed and keep each other warm. They kept talking well into the night, snuggled under the bed covers, whispering as if they would wake someone else, despite being the only ones in the apartment. Eventually falling asleep next to each other. The company, the talking and the banter, as well as being pushed to create art were the therapy she needed, granting her a good night sleep in a long while. 

[chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang]

Vladislav’s Fluff alphabet

Original template by @eekshade

Requested by @rthounasty (you’re right, Vlad deserves more love)

Warnings: Occasionally vulgar language

Author’s note: The reader will be human here. The whole fucking edited draft of this got deleted bc of my bad WiFi and I had to redo it… Perks of living in a shit hole ig.

_____________________________________________

Admiration. (what do they admire about their S/O)

Vladislav admires the fact, that you see him for what he is. You’re not intimidated by his past or reputation and he doesn’t have to keep up this front around you, because you see him right through and it is such a peculiar feeling to have someone who loves him for him.

Boldness. (how bold are they in regard to their S/O? who confessed first?)

Funnily enough, I feel like you would be the one to confess first. He is a very proud vampire and the thought of a rejection subconsciously scares him way too much to hit it off with you. But after you two are already dating, he’ll be the more bold/initiative one.

Comfort. (how do they comfort their S/O?)

Vlad is very observant. Much more observant than you think. Even if you try to hide it, he always notices when you’re down and starts a conversation with you. Usually on some random unrelated theme, but it slowly gets you to open up and talking about what’s got you so bothered. He’ll just listen and let you get it out of the system.

Dates. (do they prefer going out or staying in? do they prefer fancy or simple?)

Staying in is a more plausible option in Vlad’s eyes, because you get to relax in privacy together. In public, there is still some level of discomfort that might prevent you from being that affectionate together or having deep personal conversations. Usually you go out on the town, if some of your/Vlad’s friends call you along.

Equal. (are they more dominant or passive?)

Once he really gets comfortable within your relationship, he starts taking initiative and mostly volunteers to make the decisions. However, if you have a more persuasive type of character he’ll probably slow down a bit. It is quite refreshing for him to not have any competitiveness in a relationship.

Family. (do they want to start a family?)

I think, that if you don’t initiate this yourself, it wouldn’t be in his plans. Children are quite complicated creatures and he’s not sure, if he’s cut out to handle one, especially considering that the child in question will be from a completely different world, that he struggles to understand. But if you end up raising a child together, he turns out to be more than a decent father figure.

Goofy. (how serious are they when it comes to a relationship?)

Vlad takes your relationship very seriously. He has rather clear intentions on one day making you a vampire and living together forever. But that doesn’t mean he’s constantly dwelling on it. The best part of having a partner is getting to be laid back and genuinely unwind.

Hugs. (how do they hug?)

Two words: bear hugs. He straight up scoops you up and squeezes the last breath out of your lungs in the most affectionate way possible. Sometimes you have to remind him to be gentler, because he legitimately can crush your ribcage (he won’t though, I promise).

Interests. (what Interests do they want to share with their S/O)

You really inspire Vlad to create. He already creates a lot, but after you appeared, his amount of poetry/art done almost doubled. He doesn’t show you everything he makes. Instead he carefully picks out the best works to present. The other “rejects” will forever stay swept under his coffin or tucked away somewhere in a cupboard.

Jealousy. (do they get jealous?)

Vlad can’t help, but sometimes view your friends as potential rivals. These are just intrusive thoughts, that can never leave his head, even though he knows it’s stupid. He never acts on them, to be sure. But just the feeling itself is very unpleasant to him.

Kiss. (how they kiss/favorite place to be kissed, and vise versa.)

Vlad loves neck/shoulder kisses both on the giving and the receiving end. He finds these especially romantic and intimate. To him, the fact that you let him kiss your neck really shows how much you trust Vladislav to not hurt you. Also, I have to mention that Vlad is probably the best kisser ever, since he had a lot of time to practice.

Love Language.

Quality time is definitely Vlad’s main love language. Nothing shows his love and devotion more than just sitting together for hours and talking about anything and everything. Sometimes you don’t even have to talk. Even being together in one room, being close to each other, it means so much to both of you.

Meals. (kitchen dynamics.)

Vladislav doesn’t cook, obviously, but he’s willing to try for you. He might cook something in your kitchen, using some old recipe he found in Viago’s library and it’s probably going to taste absolutely inedible, but it’s the thought that counts, right? But honestly, with time he actually gets really good and can cook a legitimately tasty meal for you.

Nicknames. (what do they call their S/O?)

He is very straightforward in that way, I think. He either just calls you by your actual name or “My Love” / “Dragostea mea”. He might occasionally use some other pet names like “Darling” / “Lubi”. But overall, sticks to the classics.

Openness. (how open are they about their past/emotions with their S/O?)

Vlad takes his time with opening up to you. He slowly shares random snippets of his thoughts and watches how you react to them. When he knows you well enough, he’ll be completely transparent about his present and past experiences/feelings.

PDA.

He is rather hesitant with public affection. To him this sort of stuff is private, not something to be shared with the world. But simple gestures like holding hands or leaning into each other are totally okay with him.

Quarrel. (how they apologize/ how long it takes them to forgive their S/O?)

It all depends on you. Vladislav is a very proud vampire and even if he knows, that he’s in the wrong, it takes him a while to apologise. If you give him time, he will come around to it on his own, but if you confront him about it really speeds up the process. He doesn’t really hold grudges on you for mundane arguments and forgives you easily.

Rules. (boundaries they have.)

No violence. He’s got enough of that in both his normal and romantic life and he’s sick and tired. Vlad just wants something sweet and peaceful for once and having these aggressive outbursts is the exact opposite of his ideal relationship.

Security. (how protective they are of their S/O.)

Vladislav seems to be a bit more on edge when you are around people he doesn’t know. Even if they are your friends, it takes a while to get him to trust them. He remains very vigilant and observant, as if he’s expecting some kind of a catch. This tension disappears after a bit of time spent with the new people.

Time. (how long does it take to fall for their S/О?)

Vladislav is all about slow burn, I think. Only after he truly gets to know you close he starts to develop romantic feelings. It’s the little parts of your personality that are hidden from most people that really make you special to him and Vlad wants to have this personal connection, before a romantic one.

Upset (what things upset them in a relationship?)

He is really upset, if you are afraid of him. Of course, you’re not terrified. Otherwise you two definitely wouldn’t date. But if you flinch when he gets close to your neck or fidget uncomfortably at the sight of his fangs it makes Vladislav so angry about his own nature. He really wishes he could be human sometimes.

Vacation. (what kind of traveler are they with their S/O?)

Vlad is pretty spontaneous with this sort of stuff. One day he may just wake you up and say you’re going to Transylvania with zero explanation. He does prepare himself for travelling somewhere he has never been before, but it’s usually done by reading books with very very very outdated information, so please do your research too. Don’t let him plan the whole thing by himself.

Words. (promises they make to their S/O.)

He promised to keep you safe. Vladislav has lost way too many close people throughout his existence and he’s not about to let you be one of them. The world is full of dangers both for the living and the undead and if he can provide you any sense of security, he will.

Xenial. (how they make you feel welcome/what makes them feel welcome?)

Every time you walk into the room, you are greeted with this signature toothy grin of his, that just can’t not make your heart swell with warmth. Such a small gesture, but really shows Vlad’s true feelings towards you. And when you reach out to hug him anytime he’s close enough to you to do so, it makes him feel like the most important person in the world.

Yearning. (do they miss their S/O easily? what do they do about it?)

He doesn’t look like someone, who gets separation anxiety… but he does get it. He doesn’t like to be away from you for too long, because it makes him feel lonesome. Sure, his flatmates are still there and that is great, but it’s just not the same feeling. He knows it’s not entirely healthy, but what can you do?

Zzz. (sleeping habits/how they cuddle.)

Vladislav likes, when you lay on top of him. He sleeps in a rather straight position, so he’s stable enough to use him as a second mattress and he just enjoys your weight on top of his chest. It calms him to feel your presence so apparently. If you get cold from his body temperature, he first lays a blanket over himself, then you go on top.

[breadbrobin]

the bet

cedric diggory x oc — harry potter

[fem!oc]

summary: morgan ridge could turn down many things. food, romantic advances, friendships. but she could never turn down a good bet.

warnings: quite a lot of swearing (morgan is a bad influence methinks), kissing, betting/gambling, NOT x reader, fem!oc, GOD they’re in love with each other, minor character death (sort of), i think i’m a comedian with this story apparently (spoiler, i’m not), third person pov.

word count: 5.7k

(LOOK i knowwww that x oc fics don’t do as well on tumblr so if this doesn’t do well i’ll rewrite it and post as an x reader too but i don’t really want to rn so i’m just posting it as is bc idgaf really. anyway i’ve had this in my drive for like three years and it’s finally time to share morgan with the world yayyy (i love her she’s so silly))

———————————

The Inciting Incident

It all started when Lizzie Crawford entered the bathroom.

“God, Liz, do you ever knock?” Morgan asked, mostly unfazed. She was used to her friend bursting in unannounced almost every time she was showering.

“No,” Lizzie said, perching on the edge of the closed toilet and picking at her chipped nail polish. “Now, I have a proposition for you.”

Morgan poked her head around the opaque shower curtain. “Oh?”

She hummed absently, running her hand through her hair. “So you know how Diggory’s spending some of the summer with you, and then you don’t live that far away so you’ll probably be in each other’s pockets all break?”

“Uh… yes? Obviously, I know that? Why does that matter?”

“Well, I’ll bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some action with him over the holidays.”

Morgan turned the shower off and peeked around the shower curtain at her friend. “Come again?”

“I bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some with Diggory over the holidays.”

“He’s my friend.”

“And? Do we have a deal?”

Morgan paused, considering her options. On one hand, she knew she didn’t have feelings for Cedric. On the other, it felt wrong to take a bet like that. Finally, her lack of moral compass won. “Fine. We have a deal.”

“Great! I can’t wait to be twenty galleons richer.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, turning the shower on again and running conditioner through the ends of her hair. “Keep dreaming, Liz.”

“What are the conditions?” Camilla Maquez asked, leaning across the table at dinner.

“Conditions?” Morgan asked, buttering a bread roll and handing it to her.

“Yeah, like, what constitutes as ‘getting some’,” she used quotation marks. “Because you two are so affectionate anyway, so Liz, you need to specify.”

Morgan rolled her eyes and pulled a face at her friend.

“No, she’s right,” Lizzie cut in. “Kissing? That counts.”

“Only lips though right?” she clarified.

“Yes, Morgan. Holding hands romantically counts. Gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.” she hummed in thought. “Hugs with romantic context.”

Camilla snorted into her bread. When the other two shot her a confused look, she raised her hands. “It’s funny because they do all of this anyway.”

“Not romantically,” Morgan pointed out.

“Mhm,” she smirked.

“Piss off.”

“Anyway,” Lizzie continued. “Legs. Anything to do with legs. Touching your leg with his hand or leg or anything romantically.”

“Mm, that’s sexy stuff,” Camilla mocked.

“Like I said, piss off.”

“Obviously sex.”

“Liz!”

“Which you probably won’t do, but I need to keep my options open here.” she rectified.

“I have a bet myself,” Camilla spoke up again.

Morgan sighed. “Yes?”

“Not with you.” she waved her off. “Five galleons says Diggory makes the first move.”

“That is not fair. We all know Morgan’s a pussy.”

“Hey!”

Lizzie laughed. “Just speaking the truth, hun. Oh! Pet names, but like, meaningfully, counts.”

“Are you taking my action, Liz?” Camilla implored, sticking her hand out.

She shook her head. “I guess so. You better prove me doubly right, Morgan!”

“Not planning on it,” she sang quietly, returning to her dinner.

The Cow Situation

Before Morgan knew it, the school year was over.

She woke up around midday, that first day back, and stared at the ceiling, relishing in the silence that surrounded her. The birds chirped outside her window and a thin ray of sunlight peeked through the tan curtains, leaving a golden line across her body and room.

With a sigh, she rolled out of bed and rubbed her eyes. Her hair was a tangled mess around the back of her head, but she simply pulled it into a loose bun and headed downstairs.

A note sat on the kitchen counter.

Taken the dog for a walk, be back around 1:30. Hopefully you’ll be up by then…

Love, Mum

Morgan smiled softly and put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

She leaned against the counter and stared out into the yard. A few chickens pecked and scratched the dusty ground and a pair of cows grazed in the field behind them. A small girl sat on the trampoline, not bouncing.

She frowned as she opened the door and walked over, scaring a chicken out of her way.

“Hey, Little C,” she called. “What’s up?”

Cordelia Ridge, her nine year old sister looked over her shoulder and looked back. “Hi.”

Morgan’s smile fell from her face and she climbed up onto the trampoline beside her. “Uh oh. What’s going on, Cords?”

“Mummy says Diedre is sick,” she pointed at the black and white cow.

“Sweetie, Diedre’s always getting sick.” she sighed. “Shoddiest immune system I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen you.” she poked her side, enticing a giggle out of the girl.

“So she’s gonna be okay?”

“Of course! It’s Diedre. She’s always pulled through before. Why not now?”

They were holding a funeral for Diedre the cow.

Cordelia was absolutely beside herself. Morgan stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, the other hand holding a bouquet of long grasses, hand picked and arranged that morning.

It was a dry day, and the sun was shining, and Cordelia was glaring up at it like it was personally offending her.

“Don’t look at the sun, Little C. You’ll go blind,” Morgan chided, pulling her sunglasses off and slipping them on her sister’s face.

“Maybe I want to,” she sniffed. “Maybe I deserve it.”

Her face contorted in confusion. “What?”

“I should have realised sooner,” she wept. “I should have given her the love she deserved.”

Morgan stared down at her younger sister, whose bottom lip was wobbling precariously. She crouched down and tucked her wispy hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, Cordelia. There was nothing you could’ve done. The animal doctor said that it was just time for her to go. Like Grandma.”

That apparently did not help.

The floodgates opened and the sunglasses fell off. Cordelia planted her face in Morgan’s shoulder and wailed.

As the young girl cried, Morgan’s eyes caught onto two tall figures walking towards the family.

Her mum smiled softly at her before walking over to the people.

The larger of the two hugged her and she led them over to her daughters.

Morgan saw it was Cedric and she waved slightly.

He raised his brows at the crying girl she held before crouching down beside her and tapping Cordelia’s shoulder.

“Hey, Dells.” he said quietly, making her sobs quieten and her head turn towards him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She sniffled once, then twice, and detached herself from her sister. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, believing the worst to be over, when the nine-year-old launched herself onto Cedric, crying into his black shirt.

He shot her a small smile, reaching out and patting her knee gently as he comforted her sobbing sister.

Her stomach lurched.

That should have been her first sign.

The Flowers

Cedric was splayed out on her bed. One of his feet hung off near Morgan’s head and she was infinitely glad for his quality hygiene.

She was reading the Wizard of Oz again, and he was dutifully drawing something that he refused to show her.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’m done.”

She finished her page and slipped the bookmark in, turning to him. “Can I see?”

“No, I drew this for you but you’re never allowed to look at it.” he teased, straight faced.

“Never?”

“Never.” He broke into a smile and shoved the sketch pad in her face.

It was a… Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. There was some interesting shading, a tuft of what could either be grass or hair and a strange egg shaped blob in the middle.

She hoped her face didn’t show her emotions as she quickly schooled her features into a smile. “It’s great, Ced.”

He had a wide grin plastered on his face as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I know. Now turn the page.”

She did as he said and blinked in shock, her jaw dropping. “There is no way you drew this.”

“I’ve been practising.”

“Have you been taking classes from freaking Van Gogh in between Quidditch practise?” she gaped, looking from the sketch of sunflowers and daisies and his beaming face.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “An artist never reveals his secrets.”

“I think that’s meant to be magician.”

“Same thing.” he waved her off. “Anyway, I know sunflowers are your favourite, and daisies are my favourite. So I combined them.”

“This is honestly incredible.” she gushed.

“Oh, stop it.”

“No, seriously.” She stood up. “Can I put it on my wall?”

“Go for it,” he beamed, somehow even brighter than before.

She gently pulled the page from the pad and ripped a tab of blu-tack off, sticking it to the wall above her desk. Once it was hung, she stepped back to admire it. “Oh!” she gasped. “You need to sign it!”

Cedric stood up and brushed past her, scribbling his signature on the bottom right corner with a small heart. “Happy?”

“Mhm.”

That should have been her second sign.

They stood side by side and admired it for a moment.

Then Morgan broke the silence.

“I can’t draw for shit,” she laughed. “And look at you. Mister Artist himself.”

“Oh, piss off,” he groaned, hugging her shoulders from behind and resting his chin on her head. “You can sing though. I can’t.”

“Liar.” she scoffed, patting his arm. “I’ve heard you sing. Besides, you’re practically perfect at everything you do.”

Just as he was about to respond, Cordelia burst through the lightly shut door, eyes still red and puffy. The two separated quickly. “Lunch is ready.”

“Thanks, Dells,” he nodded. “We’ll be right there.”

As she left, he wrapped an arm around Morgan’s shoulders and led her out. “God, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“Very funny.”

The Second Week

As with most summers, Morgan and Cedric spent almost every waking moment in each other’s company.

Unlike most summers, however, Morgan couldn’t chase the thoughts of a certain bet from her mind.

She knew, she knew, that there was nothing to it. That it was just her friends being annoying and messing with her and everything she’d started reading into was just in her head… But, God, was it hard to remember sometimes.

She was just worried that he’d find out. Maybe one of her friends would send her a letter mentioning it? (Not that he’d ever read her letters.) What if Liz came for a random visit? Or worse: what if she told her friends, the Weasley twins, and they came for a visit?

She chased her swirling thoughts from her mind as Cedric walked through the front door, performing the mental equivalent of shoving all of the mess in your room into the wardrobe and hoping it closed right.

“Hey,” she smiled, standing up with her bowl of milk that used to hold cereal. “You’re early.”

“It’s eleven o’clock.”

“Yeah, early,” she shrugged, setting the now empty bowl in the sink. “What’s up?”

“Wanna go into town?” he asked, leaning on the counter and gesturing to the fruit bowl.

She tossed him an apple. “Sure. When?”

“Now?”

She sighed heavily, half-joking. “A bit more warning would be nice. Lemme go get changed.”

“Yes!” he cheered through a mouthful of apple. “You’re the best, Mo!”

Mo? She wondered as she jogged up the stairs. Since when am I Mo?

If she’d been listening carefully, she would have heard Cedric bang his head against the kitchen counter.

The town was quiet as always.

A farmer’s market was dying down, most vendors packing their remaining wares and smiling sheepishly at Morgan and Cedric as they wove their way through the stunted stalls. They purchased a fresh bread roll and split it between them as they walked, both surprised that it was still warm.

“You know,” Cedric said after a few minutes of silence as they left the market and strolled along the main street. “We should do this more often.”

Morgan squinted as she looked up at him, the sun assaulting her eyes. “Really?” she asked dryly. “What, burn ourselves to a crisp and get blinded while we’re at it?”

“No, dummy. Do stuff.”

“What? You don’t like doing nothing with me?” she teased.

“No, no, I love doing nothing with you,” he stole a chunk of bread that she’d been eyeing up. “But I also like spending money.”

“I bought the bread. I was the one who spent the money.”

He gasped, as if he didn’t already know. “What? Really?”

“Shut up, Ced,” she smiled, pushing him and stealing the last chunk of bread from the packet.

Morgan was awake uncharacteristically early, so when she knocked on the Diggory’s front door, Cedric looked supremely confused.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “Did someone die?”

“No, why would you— You’re an arsehole, you know that?” she pouted.

“Yeah, I know. Come on.”

He led her down the short hallway and into the living area. Morgan sighed contentedly. The Diggory’s house always smelled amazing; a combination of vanilla, coffee and cleaning supplies that somehow worked. Cedric often smelled similar, she realised. The vanilla that clouded the house seemed to hang around him as well. She shook herself out of it as he began speaking.

“My dad’s gotten obsessed with the TV,” he admitted, nodding towards the man who was watching with a rapt expression. “He doesn’t really understand it, but he’s addicted. He really likes cricket. Probably because he can’t figure out how to change the channel.”

“Oh, I used to play cricket! I love it so much!” she gushed, joining Amos on the couch. “Who’s playing?”

“England and India,” he said distractedly.

“ODI, T20 or test?”

“Test. We’re on Day Two.”

“So England’s batted?”

“Three-thirty-seven.”

“Not bad,” she squinted at the numbers on the screen, showing one-twenty-eight for six.

“I have no idea what you guys are saying,” Cedric cut in, looking blankly between them.

“We’re talking sport,” Amos said, almost giddily.

Morgan didn’t spare either of them a glance as the English captain went upstairs for a review. “Yeah, get back in the kitchen.” She teased. “Go make us a sandwich.”

“I thought you were coming to hang out with me,” he almost pouted.

She finally dragged her eyes from the screen. “But… Cricket…”

He shook his head with a smile. “Right, of course. Two sandwiches coming right up.”

The Moment She Knew

Their days seemed doomed to repeat. Groundhog day, Morgan’s mum had called it. So, when she found a way to rid herself of the monotony of daily life, she took it without a second thought.

“Mum, please!”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll even get petrol! I’ll… I’ll… I’ll pay for it myself too!”

“Morgan…”

“Mum,” she pleaded. “It’s just me and Ced. It’s a twenty minute drive and I’ll get petrol on the way back. We’ll be back by four and I’ll wear suitable shoes while driving.”

Whitney Ridge pursed her lips in thought. Then she sighed. “Fine. Don’t bother getting petrol, I’ll fill up on the way home from work on Monday.”

Morgan squeaked in excitement, hugging her mum tightly. “Thank you! You’re the best! I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Love you too, Moggy,” she smiled.

True to her word, Morgan did wear suitable shoes. The drive ended up taking around twenty-five minutes, but she supposed her mother couldn’t fault her for driving just under the speed limit all the way there.

There was a secluded lake she’d found out about from an old magazine in her mum’s collection, when she’d been looking for something, anything, to make her days less boring.

“This is awesome,” Cedric breathed as they broke through the treeline and onto the rocky shore of the small lake.

“Yeah,” she sighed contentedly, breathing in the fresh air.

They set up their towels and supplies in the shade of a tree and pulled off their sturdy shoes.

Cedric pulled his shirt over his head. Morgan would be lying if she said her eyes didn’t catch on his muscles.

“Race you in,” he said as she had her own shirt halfway over her head.

“What?” she asked, hearing him run away. “Oh, you prick!”

She tossed her shirt on the ground, followed by her shorts, leaving her in her bikini, pouting as Cedric splashed around in the cool, blue water.

She stomped over to the water’s edge, frowning down at him. The rock she was standing on was about a metre above the surface, casting a navy shadow over the rippling water. He waded a few metres out from her.

“You coming?” he asked.

“No,” she pouted, folding her arms. “I don’t swim with cheaters.”

He barked a laugh, swimming over to the edge and pulling himself out. Droplets of water hit her skin.

She backed away. “Cedric…”

He took a step closer.

“Don’t you dare, Diggory…”

He tilted his head, grinning widely as he continued to step closer to her. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Sure, you don’t,” she pointed at him. “Stay back!”

He laughed and pushed off his heels, springing towards her. Before he could reach her, however, she turned tail and ran, feet skimming over the rocks as she raced for the safety of the towels.

She only managed to get a few steps away before he caught her, his cold arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her off the ground. He spun around, carrying her back to the edge of the water and tossing her into the lake.

She yelped as the cold water hit her, but remembered to hold her breath, her dark hair swirling around her face in the water. She heard the telltale sound of him jumping in too and forced herself up to the surface.

“I hate you!” she gasped, pushing her hair off her forehead. “I hate you so fucking much!”

“Liar!” he retorted, shaking his head and sending water droplets flying everywhere. “You love me.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, treading water and staring at him. “You wish,” she finally uttered.

He just smiled.

The days ticked by much faster than expected. Soon, Cedric was waving his parents off on their week-long trip and then hauling his bags over to Morgan’s house, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What did you do?” she immediately asked when they were alone.

He closed the door gently before skipping over to the bed in the guest bedroom he was staying in. He sat on it cross-legged, still smiling, and patted the mattress ahead of him.

When she finally sat down, he leaned forward.

“Guess what I bought,” he said.

She waited.

“You’re meant to ask,” he sighed.

“Oh, my bad,” she cleared her throat. “What did you bring, Cedric?”

He didn’t answer, simply reaching down to his backpack and pulling out a bottle of firewhiskey.

“That’s it? Oh, you sweet, sweet child,” she teased. “I have three of those in my room.”

“Sorry, Mo, not all of us are casual rulebreakers,” he sniffed.

She pushed his shoulder. “I’m kidding, Ced. I mean, technically, I’m not, but I do appreciate the sentiment.”

He poked his tongue out at her.

The Night Things Happened

The day started like any other.

Morgan and Cedric usually woke up at vastly different times, so when he woke up, he went for a run, had a shower and ate a light breakfast before going to wake her.

A lot of groaning and a few thrown pillows later, they were standing in the kitchen making pancakes.

As Morgan flipped another one, leading to Cedric cheering as if she’d never done it before, Whitney entered the kitchen.

“Morning, you two,” she greeted, kissing her daughter’s temple and patting Cedric’s shoulder. “Cords and I are going to that Girl Scouts sleepover tonight, remember? So you’ll have to make dinner yourselves.”

“Yup, we know, Mum,” Morgan said, taking the pancake out of the pan and slapping it onto a plate. “We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you burning the house down. Remember last time?”

“Mum.” She turned to her grimly. “We don’t talk about last time.”

Whitney raised her hands in surrender. “Right, right. But, on a more serious note. I shouldn’t have to tell you not to invite anyone else over and to be in bed by one, should I? And I won’t come home to drunk teenagers all over my house?”

“Nope, we’ll be all good, Ms Ridge,” Cedric shot her a winning smile.

She pursed her lips jokingly. “Mhm… Alright, I trust you two. I’m going to the shops, need anything?”

“We need more eggs.”

“Eggs, got it.”

The night was when things changed.

After Whitney and Cordelia were gone, at least long enough that it was unlikely they’d turn around and come back, they took their first swig of firewhiskey.

It burned its way down Morgan’s throat, like it always did. Cedric coughed and sputtered, nearly spitting it mouthful out.

She held back a laugh. “You alright, Golden Boy?”

“Shut up,” he seethed, voice hoarse.

She raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just asking.”

They sat and ate the pizza they’d ordered already, taking sips of firewhiskey whenever they felt like it.

Morgan closed her pizza box one slice after Cedric did, placing it on top of his on the coffee table. “You good?”

“Great,” he smiled dopily. It seemed the whiskey was hitting him harder than he was letting on.

She smiled back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She took a larger swig of whiskey, shaking her head at the strength. “I just wanna point out that if you get sick, I’m not cleaning you up. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” He nodded, looking a little bit more put together. “I’d clean you up though. If you got sick.”

She smiled again. “Thanks, Ced.”

The night was going surprisingly well. They’d turned on the TV, both staring, fixated at Friends reruns, leaning heavily on each other. The bottle was half gone and, as the advertisements came on, they each took another swig.

Cedric was looking at her weird.

She straightened up, frowning in confusion. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he slurred slightly. “You’re just… Fuck, you’re pretty.”

Her heart fluttered. “Oh. So are you.”

He blushed, looking down. “Yeah, I know.”

Morgan couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Yeah, I bet you do, Goldie.”

“Goldie?”

“Golden Boy. It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“No, you’re cute.”

“You’re cuter.”

“No, you are.”

“You are.”

“You…” he was very close to her now, his grey eyes darting between her brown eyes and her lips. “You’re very pretty, Mo. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“No, I don’t think you know how pretty you are. Like… When you laugh your eyes light up, and… And when you do that thing when you’re thinking… Where your eyebrow twitches… Oh, and that thing you do… The thing when your favourite songs come on and you tap your legs really fast…”

Morgan swallowed tightly as his hand brushed her cheek. His breath smelled of firewhiskey, but she was sure hers did too.

He wasn’t looking at her eyes anymore. “You’re incredible, Morgan. And you deserve to know that.”

“Cedric…” she started.

“Sh,” he cut her off. He was hardly an inch away now. “Don’t talk. Just…”

Friends came back on the TV.

“Just watch Friends with me.” He leaned back, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her flush against his side.

She tried with all her might to ignore her pounding heart.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to win this bet after all. In fact, she thought she might have just lost it already.

The Rainy Days

Neither Morgan or Cedric had brought up what he’d said that night, but it hung in the air between them, stagnant and stiff, leaving awkwardness to rest in the growing distance.

It was odd, Morgan realised. One moment, they were closer than ever before, hugging for a second too long, soft touches as hands brushed, then the next, they were sitting at opposite ends of a metaphorical couch, shooting furtive glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

It was confusing, and Morgan was conflicted.

She almost wanted to bring it up. She knew he remembered, that much was clear. It was obvious in the subtlest of looks, the gentlest of touches, the softest of smiles. But sometimes, it would leap to the forefront of his mind and, cheeks red, eyes downcast, he would retreat into himself.

And so, neither Morgan or Cedric brought it up.

No matter how much they may have wanted to.

The days passed in almost comfortable normalcy.

There were no trips to the lake or the town, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company.

She and Cordelia taught him how to play Last Card on a thundery Tuesday, all pouting out the window at the storm.

“I hate thunder,” Cedric shuddered. “It’s the worst to play Quidditch in too.”

“I don’t think it’s safe to play in thunder,” Morgan huffed, collecting the cards after he won again. “I mean, lightning strikes the highest object, right? And look what happened to Harry last season.”

“Yeah, that was horrible,” he cringed, taking the cards from her and shuffling them. “Although that was the Dementors too.”

She pulled a face. “Still not an excuse. It really isn’t safe.”

Cordelia looked between them in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You remember Quidditch, right?” Cedric asked. “On the broomsticks.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you know that witches riding broomsticks used to be a euphemism for riding the devil’s—”

“—Oh-kay, that’s enough cards for today!” Morgan cut in. “Cords, why don’t you go grab a board game, yeah?”

“Okay!” she chirped, dancing off upstairs.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in her chair.

Cedric shot her an amused look.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

When Morgan saw a person running towards her house without an umbrella in the pouring rain, she decided they were an idiot.

Then the figure got closer and she realised that it was her idiot.

“God, Cedric, you dipshit,” she whispered, dropping the knife she was using to butter her toast on the bench and running to the door, grabbing a towel from a clean pile on the way.

She opened the door just as he reached the front steps, having to grip onto the handle tight so that the wind didn’t rip it from its hinges.

“What are you doing?” she asked over the downpour, letting him inside and handing him the towel.

“I swear it didn’t start raining until I was halfway here.” His teeth were chattering. “Gotta love English weather.”

She shook her head in defeat. “Shut up and go take a hot shower. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He didn’t even move to object, shuffling towards the bathroom instantly.

Morgan left a bundle of warm clothes outside the door and sat on the couch to wait.

Thankfully, she wasn’t alone with her thoughts for very long.

Cedric padded into the room with his hair wet and messy and in a hoodie that he’d left at her house a few weeks before. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“Are you okay?” she handed him a blanket as he sat down next to her.

He nodded. He looked significantly less cold than before. “Merlin, the last time I was this cold was when you pushed me into the Black Lake.”

“I didn’t push you, you slipped.”

“Yeah, right,” he huddled closer to her, making her tense up briefly. The last time they were this close on the couch…

“Hey, Morgan…” he said quietly after a few beats.

“Hm?”

“About that night—”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to—”

“No, I think we should—”

“Cedric,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry about it. You were drunk. It’s okay.”

He paused, studying her like he was committing all of her features to memory. She knew she was doing that for him. “Okay.”

They sat in silence, watching the rain stream down the window.

The Confession

Morgan had a confession to make.

First, to herself: she liked Cedric—No. She was in love with Cedric.

It was the way he said her name like it was made of porcelain, fragile, delicate. It was the way their bodies fit perfectly together when they hugged, their bodies and hands made for holding each other. It was the way he looked at her, that night and every day since—every day ever, actually; like she’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. It was the way he made her feel safe.

Was that so difficult?

Yes, a nagging voice in the back of her mind muttered. You’re going to be twenty galleons more broke because of your stupid feelings.

Maybe, she countered. But I don’t even care anymore.

Her next confession would be to Cedric. That was slightly more difficult.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have the opportunity; they were almost always at each other’s houses. It was more to do with the issue of her being too scared. She shied away from admitting it every time she thought she was ready, pushing her feelings down and down until they were compressed under a pile of anxiety.

So, the confession was going well. Really well.

She stole another glance at him across the room, peering over her book to find him already staring at her. She withheld a squeak and looked back down, sinking lower into her end of the couch.

“Alright, what is it?” he asked, slipping a bookmark between the pages and setting his book on the end table.

“What is what?” She didn’t take her eyes off her book, pretending to read with her eyes locked on one phrase: ‘I love you.’

Is it that easy? She asked herself. I just say it?

Cedric leaned forward and pushed her book down. “Well, either that page is very interesting or you suddenly can’t read, because you haven’t turned the page in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m absorbing it properly,” she lifted it back up but he pushed it down again.

“Absorbing it, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Well, my other thought was that you were so distracted staring at me every five seconds that you forgot to actually read.”

She dropped her book, struggling to catch it and sending it careening onto the floor. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. “No.”

He was smiling, that soft, almost smug smile that she’d fallen in love with. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Uh-huh, because from here, it looked like you were staring at me.”

She sat up straight. “Really? How odd.”

“Hmm…” he smiled a bit brighter. God, she wanted to kiss him. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

She breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as he leaned back.

“Shame, because I was actually quite flattered.”

“Oh, I bet you were,” she scoffed.

He leaned back into the couch, opening his book agonisingly slow.

Morgan stared at him, legs crossed and brows furrowed. Her head was swirling with thoughts, all repeating, Cedric, Cedric, Cedric. She’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad, to just hold someone. She’d never, ever in her life, wanted to lose a bet.

His grey eyes flickered up to her once, then twice, then again. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, what the fuck,” she muttered, pushing herself forward and pressing her lips to his.

He dropped his book, the hardback thudding dully on the floor right next to hers, but neither cared. His hands found their place on her waist as she leaned over him, one arm supporting her on the wall behind him, the other entangled in his brown hair.

Butterflies danced in Morgan’s stomach, her heart racing wildly as their lips melded together. It was like they were made to kiss each other; the way they fit so perfectly, the curve of her cheek and the straight line of his nose. All of her swirling thoughts subsided, leaving only one: Cedric.

God, she never wanted to stop kissing him. He was like sugar; tantalising, sweet, addictive.

He pulled away first, thumb digging subtly into her hip, lips parted and gasping for air. “Morgan…”

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, unable to find her voice. “But I couldn’t wait another—”

He kissed her again, more passionate; noses knocking, hearts pounding, hair standing on end. She wondered how she got so lucky. God, she was lucky.

This kiss was more intense, all those weeks of pent up emotion, released in that moment.

She never wanted it to end.

But, as her lungs gasped for air and her head began to swim, she pulled away. He chased her lips, pressing a final, sweet kiss to them, before resting his head back again.

“Never apologise for that,” he breathed. “Never.”

“Got it,” she whispered, eyes tracing a pattern in his faint freckles. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“Amazing at kissing?” he tilted his head.

“Just amazing in general.” She kissed him again.

The Pay-Up

Morgan had twenty galleons ready the second she set foot on the Hogwarts Train only a few weeks later. Cedric was holding her free hand as they wove past loitering students and nervous first years until they found Lizzie and Camila.

“Hey, Morgan, Cedric,” Lizzie raised her eyebrow at them.

Camila saw their connected hands and started prodding her arm.

“Hey, guys,” she smiled brightly. “Just paying up.”

She tossed Lizzie the bag of galleons and turned to Camila. “Sorry, I made the first move.”

“Liar,” she pointed at her. “Cedric, please tell me she’s lying.”

“Nope,” he let her hand go and wrapped it around her waist instead. “She kissed me first.”

Camila groaned, digging through her bag. “Fuck.”

As Lizzie danced in victory and Camila complained about Morgan finding her balls, Morgan had to admit, she had never been happier to lose a bet.

[ofthedirewolves]

OPENING COMMISSIONS

Hello all,

Commissions are open once again because I am in a jam. I keep getting job rejections, I’ve sold a lot of things but it never seems to be enough. So I really need some extra help. I don’t like asking for help but it’s currently my only option. I need to open commissions to pay for some debts coming up.

I have paypal and Ko-fi. I understand that things are tight for many people so if you can’t donate please share this post.

Below is a mostly full list of my fandoms (also let me know if there’s a fandom you’re interested and not on the list bc I might be forgetting it)

Ships: Queliot, Klaroline, Steddie, Ronance, Kathony, Dair Games: Uncharted, Hades, Pokemon, Baldur’s Gate 3, Dimension 20, Critical Role C1, Movies: Top Gun Maverick, Ready or Not, Any Star Wars* (just no Reylo), IT/IT Ch 2, Alice (Syfy), Fast & Furious Series, ,Pirates of the Caribbean (just no D*pp please), the Mummy, Count of Monte Cristo TV Shows: Game of Thrones, Lucifer, the Sandman, Good Omens, Teen Wolf, Once Upon a Time, Doctor Who, Broadchurch, Merlin, Ted Lasso, One tree hill, Heroes, Gilmore Girls, Wynonna Earp, Black Sails, Justified, The Witcher, White Collar, Supernatural, Veronica Mars (original series), Friday Night Lights, Leverage, Haven, Runaways, The Royals, Marvelous Mrs Maisel, 9-1-1, BTVS, Angel, She-Ra Books: ASOIAF, A Discovery of Witches, Red White & Royal Blue, X Men, Greek Mythology,

Not really my fandom but I know enough; Grisha Verse, MCU, Star Trek, Hazbin Hotel, Hunger Games, Craig Bond, inception, Percy Jackson, Outlander, elementary, Timeless, DCTV, Silo

(*Admittedly I don’t really know Rebels)

Reblogs, Retweets and Shares always help.

Thank you!

[dokidokisadness]

Werewolf training - log 2

summary: A werewolf hunter adopts a werewolf pup in order to make a living weapon out of him.

[btw this is losely based on WoD and werewolf the apocalypse - mostly bc I don't have any of the books yet and honestly never played it, but I really like the concepts and the world. Oh and... I guess it takes place on the early 90's]

Tw: minor wump, dehumanization, ableism, religious themes, living weapon.

prologue | log 1| Notes

There was a reason why the nuns thought this was a case of demonic possession. I thought maybe it had been an overreaction, however, I’m beginning to understand their assumptions.

Moss is already an agitated creature. It screams and flaps its arms around constantly for no real reason. It wasn’t able to stand back when I picked him up, probably because it was kept in that straight jacket all the time. But once it managed to balance itself in both feet, running was a constant. Always making some type of noise and constantly bumping into furniture. It was so careless and desperate with each move, I started to worry there was something wrong with it’s sight. Needless to say, I decide to get it to be more patient. The cage was an option, sure, but I don’t want it to think of the situation as punishment, rather correction. I need it to stay still and wait for my orders, not because there are silver bars preventing from leaving, I’ll need it to stay still in open environments. Oh and no straight jackets either, since I need it to be aware of it’s surroundings and for it to feel able to move, yet also feel the need to wait for my orders.

I checked the book for instruction on it, but it seems to have been written with a much more well-behaved subject in mind. I mean, I could try to “explain the rules and punishment for braking them”, but I don’t think Moss is the type to listen.

In the end, I decided to keep it chained outside, not too far from the house. It tried tugging on the chain occasionally, but after a week it was calmer.

Our schedule has become significantly easier.

5 AM – moss wakes up.

it sleeps very few hours and wakes up by itself. I notice It is up because it starts pacing around by this time. I leave it be for about an hour, it hits the mattress and the walls then paces around a little more for a while.

6 AM – I feed It.

Usually oatmeal or tuna paste.

6:05 AM – I leave it outside.

I usually do some house chores and fix some breakfast for myself, sometimes I train him on the basic commands before leaving to work.

7 AM – I’m usually getting to work by that time.

I think I mentioned before, but you must have gotten it wrong. I’m not an author, only an editor and occasionally translator. I don’t blame you, though. Office work just feels empty when you deal with the supernatural. I would quit, but hunting abominations doesn’t pay the bills. Also, I don’t think anyone expects an editor to double as a vigilante, so I guess it’s a good alibi.

4:30 PM – I leave work.

I usually take some stuff to finish at home later, they mostly don’t care as long as it’s ready by the deadline.

5 PM – I’m home and start training Moss.

For now, I’m focusing in having it know basic commands and basic English, for more detailed instructions.

The book mentions not following through with the second part if your goal is a more dependent wolf intended for simpler missions and tasks or if the beast doesn’t seem capable of developing a further understanding on language (apparently that is common enough to be on the guide) – stay; attack; stop; are probably the only things it should understand. However, I don’t have the budget to take moss in a cage to every mission and dragging him in chains to specific places. I need it to be able to carry itself in a “normal” way, as normal as possible. I need an intelligent weapon.

7PM – I have dinner.

If moss behaved during training, it may have food as well.

7:30 PM – I have Moss work out.

Mostly running exercises, recently I’ve been getting it to learn to fetch, bring it back or kill.

Suddenly near the woods has its perks. I’ve been working on having it sniff a dead rat, identify it and kill others alike it. I just need to get something bigger to try those fighting skills.

8:30 PM – I get Moss on the basement for sleep time.

It doesn’t usually sleep at that time, I want it to understand I’m no longer interacting with it for the day, so I just ignore it. If it is too noisy, I keep it in the cage with a muzzle.

I occasionally get him up in the middle of the night and take him outside for a running exercise, I want it to be used to the setting of a mission. At some point I’ll need it to wake up and help me hunt.

Ok so, that was a very tight version of our schedule, you see… Moss is often unpredictable and very suborn. A defiant wolf as I mentioned previously, sometimes it just wakes up and is calm, but often times it wakes up and is aggressive. It’s small and does little damage for now, but I need it to be fully under control. Because of that I end up wasting time punishing it for little things every day, especially weekends. Having said all of that, it’s been difficult, but I guarantee, you’ll like the final product.

PS: a small question: how is werewolf maturing documented? I mean, the book mentions height, weight and sizes, but rarely mentions age and , well, Moss is getting taller each week… not much, but it’s noticeable. I worry I have less time than I expected.

I managed a picture of it last night. Oh and a little sketch I made... this thing never leaves my mind, I guess.

[ukulelegodparent]

hey i just wanted to send an ask as someone who has been like really struggling with this for a while. it was your tag on post about white south africans that went something like people acting like having ancestors in europe gives them some magical tie to that place. i see a lot of posts telling people like me to reclaim their european roots rather than appropriate stuff that doesn't belong to me. is that really the answer? i just feel like i don't l have another option. seeing people with cultural ties that they can draw pride, inspiration, wisdom from and then looking at my own lack of any of that just kind of opened like a deep pit of dread in me as i thought about it more and more. idk even know if you have the answers necessarily its just been eating away at me and that tag kinda just kinda made me really wanna ask on the off chance you had any sort of answer.

Hey, I mean I'm no expert on the topic and can only really speak from my own experience which is mostly as a European interacting with Americans. This won't necessarily match your situation, but I just know more about the situation in the US bc of well. The everything of it.

I mean embrace your roots all you want and look at the culture of your ancestors and keep what you want and leave the rest. It's yours. But let's take someone who is German-American. Their ancestors came there in the mid 19th century and that is their latest direct cultural tie to Germany. Or German lands or whatever. It's the middle of the 19th century. It's complicated. Point is those ancestors left a society where their specific culture (whatever region they were living in) was the majority and went into a culture where it was the minority. So either they assimilate or they form a smaller community with other Germans. Either way at that point they are cut off from the main bulk of what they consider their culture. They themselves will have strong cultural influences from the culture that surrounds them and even without that the culture on it's own will slowly warp and change. So too will their language. Maybe they stop speaking German in the first generation, maybe during one of the world wars, maybe there are still parts of the adult population of that community that speak a form of German. What that German-American person would consider the traditions and culture that were passed down to them from the German side of the family might have very little to do with anything that was part of the culture of those initial immigrants to the US. Now while all that was happening German culture in Germany also changed a lot. Between Unification, a world war, the establishment of a democratic system, the absolute turmoil of the 20s, female emancipation, fascism, another world war, a refugee crisis, another dictatorship, a lot of immigration from Turkey and Italy, the establishment of the EU, reunification etc etc. German culture in Germany is also drastically different from what it was in the mid 19th century when those ancestors left.

So that is the one slightly odd thing that like. People talk about their what they consider their own culture and they call it eg "German" or "Polish" or whatever, but the culture they have has just been through a lot of washes. Which is fine, but it is a bit silly when people post pictures of two old women on a cemetery and they want to call them 'sweet ladies' but end up calling them 'old hags'. But also by calling it like a culture that has a whole country attached to it it's a bit like they're declaring themselves experts which. I mean it leads to miscommunication is all I'm saying. And also there's the point that ethnicity just doesn't work like that in Europe. It's just not carried down that far through the family. I might have had Polish or Dutch or Danish ancestors in the early 19th century but I literally would never know. So it's odd to us here for people to build their identity around something that lies so far in their past. Again. This is the part that is just a little odd, will get people made fun of etc. Maybe a little annoying at times but whatever. 'you have yours over there and we have ours over here' is the name of the game.

The frustrating thing is when people with this history act like they have any sort authority on these things. And especially the frequent (Especially American) 'Bull in a China shop' moments you get where people then base their entire personality around stereotypes and come here and act like they belong. And just. There is sometimes this deep unawareness with especially Americans that they are foreigners here. Of course with Americans the cultural imperialism plays into the frustration here but I see it even with my cousin who grew up in Aotearoa and who also just. I mean both of her parents are German, a lot of their friends are and they've visited almost every year she's been alive and yet, when she says she wants to study here all I can think is 'Girl you will have the biggest culture shock of your life' and her parents literally barely have Kiwi citizenship.

And it might also be from the European side an attempt to remove oneself from colonialism, though I don't think that's the case. There is a huge cultural divide, especially between continental Europe and the Anglosphere. But mostly I mean culture is a living breathing thing that people have to actively participate in to be a part of it. And wherever in Europe your roots may lie, by nature of living on the other side of the world you cannot participate in those traditions and you will be part of a different culture. Like my culture to me is Easter Fires just as much as getting a Döner after a long night out and getting fresh bread rolls from a bakery on a Sunday morning and not being able to go shopping on a Sunday and terrible terrible Apres-Ski music (that I must admit I indulge in sometimes) and the stellar parody dubs of 2010 German Youtube and hearing church bells, and the architecture and the language omg the language, the beautiful poems, having to suffer through Faust in school, the supermarkets, the way towns work here, the way winter smells, the way my grandfather talks and the way my great-grand aunt talks, the forests, the mountains, the fields, not going to the Oktoberfest, not because I don't have the means to but because growing up I was taught to despise it and all things Munich with it, good Brezen, amazing lentil stew (from the can of course), the list goes on and on and on. And some of these are really specific to me and some are more general. And like if you want to connect with your roots, I'm genuinely happy for you, have fun! But for our hypothetical German American, whatever sits at the heart of German and European culture (bread and a certain grumpiness seem to be a big component of both) it will probably never be truly hers. Even if she were to move here. And that's fine. I mean. Idk which post you saw bc there actually were two where I left comments like that in the tags, but one of them listed a lot of examples of what culture can be and of why the 'haha white people have no culture' thing is inaccurate. Maybe it's just that it's hard to see sometimes when your culture is so squarely the majority you never ever have to think about it. Idk. I look around me and even between the regions I've lived in there are such stark cultural differences. Culture can be the songs you sing for children to fall asleep, what the most prominent mode of transport is, where you go to eat, what you eat, what you cook, whether you cook at all, whether you go to church, whether there are crosses hanging everywhere despite rarely anyone ever going to church, what you wear, especially outside of traditional clothing. Maybe at the core of this discomfort I expressed in those tags is also the big question of 'why are you looking here for guidance? You are so different.'

[bluelolblue]

Hihihihi!! ✨

Okay so I’m on a roll asking you about Santino’s trauma…last time I asked about Vincent. Now I want to know about his family. We know his father really mistreated him, so tell me more about that. Was it based on homophobia (or omega-phobia) or was he always awful to Santino even before he learned about his orientation? How did that affect Santino? And how does John help?

OOH now that's an interesting question, I love it!! Thank you so much! 💖

Okay, so there's omegaverse and the normal version and I'm gonna explain for both :P

Since I'm working on the a/b/o one rn, and I don't wanna spoil too much bc I'm sure you'll like it ehehe- I'll try to keep it spoiler free :]

So, in "The Other Side Of Paradise" series, Santino is the only omega born in the family after years. Since the D'Antonio's are mostly alphas with few betas, Santino being born as an omega was seen as weakness for their family. Overall in the omegaverse, omegas are at the lowest rank in that society. His mother, however, loved him and Gianna equally. She saw no difference in their nature. And honestly, I think we can all agree that he was mama's boy. So, she treated him well, and always tried to protect him. His father... completely different. He is disappointed in Santino, mainly because his only son is an omega. If some of his friends (who were mostly just businessmen) knew about that... that would be a huge embarrassment for the whole family name. Other members of the family are also old fashioned, like I said in my fic, once omega finds an alpha and they become mates, they need to get married and have a child (preferably more than one). It's the rule and a curse of being an omega. And like I said in the fic, Santino is against all that. Against the tradition.

Back to his father, he did lock him in the room when Santino went into his first heat, so that his alpha friends/people he did business with, don't scent him and start questioning him about Santino.

He was mentally and physically abusing Santino. Now, mentally because he constantly humiliated Santino for his nature, for being an omega... for something he can't change or control. Physically because he would slap him, whip his palms with his belt whenever Santino didn't do "good enough" and in his father's eyes, he was never good enough.

He was forced to take heat suppressant and pills for that, even if he refused to at first, his father would punish him for that and threatened him that he's gonna kick him out. And teen Santino still didn't have any plans for living alone. So he had no choice. All that through his childhood, gave him trauma. One of the reasons he has panic attacks. No matter how much he fights against it, the damage has already been done.

Oh- and how Santino said that he doesn't want to be on their leash again (talking about his relatives when they gave them those two options), meaning he doesn't want to listen to their "tradition" or rules at all. Getting on their leash again, means having no life. And if they find out he's... umm... before marriage... yeah, that would be a disaster.

As you know, John became Santino's mate. Even if he knew that his orders were not to mate with him because he was just supposed to be his bodyguard, heat had an effect on both Santino and him and it just happened. John was protective of Santino from the beginning, even when they weren't mated, but now when they are, his instinct to protect Santino is even stronger. He always looks to please Santino, during sex for example, he always made sure Santino is okay after he knotted him since, yeah, the knot hurts. Especially getting knotted for the first time, he was really gentle with him. When Santino opened up to him at the beach, telling him what his father did to him, Santino felt safe and like he could trust him. And John listened, he was great comfort to him (and um, relaxed him in another way, too... yk). So, John is always there for his omega Santino no matter what.

I can't say too much bc I will be explaining everything in the sequel soon! More about his family, his parents specifically and everything what's gonna happen next. Just yeah, his father is an abusive and manipulative asshole. John is the best alpha and he doesn't regret having him as his mate.

Okay, so for other fics. I overall headcanon that his father is awful so I think in every fic I'll write that mentions his dad, he won't have a good relationship with him. I mentioned a little bit of homophobia in my first fic "I Heart You", what if his father finds out about him and John. But then again they both don't care about that, they just love each other.

So like I said, in all of my fics that mention his father... he's an asshole.

Mostly abusive and manipulative. Oh and this is also something that reminds him Vincent. Now, that's fucked up because his father and his ex are almost the same toxic people. Santino thought he would escape from his father, his manipulations and abuse, only to have a first boyfriend who acts almost the same (however, Vincent wasn't physically abusing him). That's something that messed him up a lot. Why he struggled so much to accept himself and learn how to love and everything. John is patient with him and he is the reason Santino became better. That's something Santino will always be thankful to John about.

I will definitely write more about that in different fics because I love the idea of John teaching Santino how to love and all that. And make him have daddy issues because... I have them so he also has to.

Thank you sooo much for this amazing ask! 💙💙💙💙

[princessdreamie]

new ending for DBH bc it was complete and utter trash

not so much of a story per se but clearly more of an improved way of a disappointing & infuriating finish of ‘The divorced billionaire heiress’. Don’t look it up, you will just regret it.

so here is how it goes. I do it mostly bc a group member asked if I could ‘rewrite’ the ending in my own headcanon and the other reason is that I really want to forget what happened with that trash novel. it will not be a full-on dialogue thing (just reserved for my fanfics, not now at least). will make some parts out of it bc it might get too long and I don’t think I will come back to look for spelling errors. so deal with it. As for my group chat members: hope you enjoy this little thing here lol

anyway, here it goes.

Update: The english version just came out and we got the name for Chance's little brother. Ron will be renamed to Seth (Se for short). S already is used for selena so i had to use the next best option here. I will leave his name for the current parts but from part 3 onwards he will get his real name instead of this. and yes, Nicole's kids has his name translated as well but i keep him Named bully. Fits him better

The story goes on after Julie got her baby a few weeks later. the Stanton family gets ready for Kai and Julie to get back home from, the hosp. the new family of 3 had to stay for a bit longer. The reason will come soon don’t worry. Nicole orders the workers around to do stuff while the others chit-chat in the garden. their topic goes back to the moment Julie’s baby was born. 

flashback time: the Stanton family thought that Kai and Julie get a boy, but surprise, it is a girl. The couple hasn’t really thought of a good girl name yet bc their doctor says that they will get a son. after they talked to that one doctor he embarrassingly admitted that his nurses mixed up the documents and a person with a similar name was handed to him instead of the right one. Stanton’s family gets furious for no reason but J is just happy to have it all behind her. they still needed a name and Kai’s idea was to make a poll on the internet to choose their favorite. He gets chewed out by his dad and his idea was obviously dismissed. But b4 they could go any further the doctor comes back in with a specialist. Kai asks what they want and the others were asked to leave the room. although hesitant, they obeyed their orders and left them alone. a good 20 minutes or so later they finally see the door open

N's dad saw the 2 docs walking out and asked worried about what was going on. they get explained that the baby had a rare condition that passes down some generations. J's grandma, mom, and herself didn’t have it bc they got lucky. But luck runs out eventually and unfortunately, the girl has to deal with it. They checked the medical history of j's family and aside from a very distant cousin, no one was left of her family.

They contacted him and told him the situation but he only told them that he had the meds that helped him go through the condition and that he didn’t really care for j bc they never met anyway. And that he has his own life to manage. the body of the girl is weak but bc they found out about her illness early on she will not suffer her whole life. By the age of 4, she still needs to take the meds but they are just a few drops with a dessert spoon.

J and K are distraught but thanks to the hospital's research they could find the meds she needed in the future. J didnt want to do the poll still bc she doesnt want their baby girl to be exposed so early on. Especially if she is sick and who knows what the media does with this information. but they came up with some meh names, like Mona, Lena, Cindy, and so on. But j decided on the name Naomi (Na for short). the family like the name and the FB ends there

They continued to talk until the butler notified them of k's and the girls’ arrival. N gets the other kids from the playroom and they finally meet their new cousin. Bratty asked why he was so small but n corrected her that this was a girl. Bratty pouted bc she wanted a boy cousin instead. To which the grown-ups laugh, bc of course they do. Ct tells her that it wouldn’t be a bad thing to play with a girl for once instead only with boys. But she doesn’t see the problem with that. N's dad tells them that they installed the needed medical instruments for little Na so that they wont need to drive constantly to the hosp. They even made it look more kid-friendly.

Some days later Eric, a slightly pregnant Selena, and Chance come to visit to see the baby. The butler reluctantly let them in and Chance runs ahead to the living room. Tigger, who was back at the lab to get his system updated greeted him as he was a long-time friend. This makes Fisher mad for some reason, but do we care? J showed him her baby after he asked her politely.

But as soon as Chance's parents came into Tiggers sight he automatically started to calculate something, which makes everyone worried. As soon as he stopped his analysis he calls out '100% match' a few times which made na upset and starts crying. Kai asked his sister to make him stop and she tries for a few minutes until she could talk to him normally. A few seconds passed and Tigger looked very sad right after. they talked some more until c asked if na isn't feeling well bc she gets very pale. j & k panic but Grant tells them to go to the baby room. While they run up to the room Maverick tells everyone to calm down and talk while they have coffee. Selena asked what was going on and Aida explained to her what they heard at the hosp. S was shocked and offered her help if they ever needed anything. Chance plays with the other kids and Eric is on a phone call with Mitchell for work-related stuff.

In another room, n was talking to Tigger asking what he was doing a few minutes ago. Tigger confessed that his results made a mistake before his new update and that Selena wasn't in his data bc she was technically married at this point (Honestly i don’t remember much of when he does this so let’s just play along, ok?). And since she wasn’t single she was out of the question. He still liked eric but he and n weren’t really meant for each other. he apologized a few times but n assured him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Besides, they got over each other and found their own partners. Not only that she got a new cousin out of it. So it won’t all too tragic in hindsight.

As the 2 of them got back n noticed that the other 2 were missing. But after putting the pieces together she didn’t bother asking questions and sat with them. S asked what this little robot was and grant explained in detail what his model is about and that some early paying customers already had their own and that the final model gets shipped out to sales next year. Eric asked if she wanted one herself. B4 she could refuse his offer Chance came up to them and asked if he could get one. Preferably a girl version. S couldn't say no to his cute face and finally agrees to one. They go over the deal and we cut to the bby room. K was having a bad time with the machinery until j pushes him away from them and tells him to let the nannies do it b4 he messes it up.

dome moments go by and the newly made parents finally came down with na. C and Lv (Levi) run up to them and c asked if she was ok. J explains that she got a bit better but she will need to do this 4 times a day b4 she can go to take her meds at age 4. They chit-chatted a few more moments b4 we cut to the next day

lv visited c at s's new bar bc the whole fam and the workers needed to make sure the opening goes off without a hitch. And e won’t let his expecting wife do the heavy lifting. But she does it anyway. After some more arguing they compromised that she will only do the checkups if he works out a theme with c in the meantime. While e wasn’t too keen of this idea he finally agreed as he saw that she was about to lift a big box.

lv offered his help as well but s used an excuse to lure him away. C and e weren’t really seeing eye to eye for what theme they wanted to use. E found his son’s idea too childish and c didn’t want the bar to look like a boring building. As they worked out the ideas, e finally warmed up to him as he listened to his son more carefully.

Lv asked s if she tricked him so the 2 can be alone. S just smirks at the boy and continues her checkups. the duo eventually agrees on a theme that works with the bar and the fam (you can use your imagination for this one). The night of the opening comes and N and a few of her friends come along to support Selena. They all had a good time and the story get a 10 month skip.

that’s for part 1

[djevelbl]

Ok not even half a day and I'm ALREADY elaborating on this — if anyone has questions/opinions on any of these, feel free to add in! Just uh. keep in mind I've been in the fandom for a total of like. a couple weeks. go easy on me

•CLOWN: Ballet, not just bc of the elegance and passive prideful tendencies, but also bc of the (generally speaking ofc — this isn't a ballet-exclusive thing either btw. it's just more prevalent there I believe) mildly-to-downright-BAD toxic and competitive atmosphere you can find in studios and auditions and shit — my man sort of THRIVES within conflicts, at least in Lifesteal; this is how I'd translate it to... whatever this is — is this an au now, chat??? I guess it is lmao

•BRANZY: Again, tango mostly bc I think it'd be funny. I mean, do you see that pathetic wet cat of a man and think "dang. he'd be good at tango"? no?? Yea. kinda the point. Also being more serious on it, tango is a passionate and emotional dance, deeply personal in how it's done, with physical contact and elegant move-sets — things Branzy can perfectly be (even tho I don't think he would typically be described as "passionate". it's not an asset one would typically use in Lifesteal. so) and things he knows how to twist around and manipulate. Like with his two-faced Lifesteal nature, not something you expect from seeing him or talking to him a lil bit (also. opens up the door for clownzy and I'm all up for that! whoo!)

•KABOODLE: Aight, first one I'm not too too sure about, so I offer up two options — #1 is lyrical, which I had to look up just to make sure it was called that in english as well lol, and #2 would be modern/urban, I'm not actually sure of what's the difference between those??? We interchange them frequently and flippantly in my academy, so 🤷. #1 bc of the elegance and beauty of it, paired with its strength and emotionality kinda just reminds me of her? (it's also my backup for whenever I just. don't know what to assign someone? so take it with a grain of salt) and #2 bc it's very k-pop band like?? And idk her avatar gives me k-pop/vtuber/idol vibes I guess??? Anyway

•SQUIDDO: Modern/urban. See above for why — it's the same reasons tbf. Maybe also lyrical???

•REDDOONS: Tango. I just think it'd be funny — yea I'm really that easy. sue me. Also the idea of THE scammer doing tango? HILARIOUS

•PRINCE ZAM: Jazz. Look, I need an honorary jazz person and it just so happened to be this one. I've never watched his videos so idek what I'm yapping about

•ASHWAGG: Jazz too EXACTLY bc of the same reason as Prince Zam lol. Also something something swagdoons fit better like this

•CHIEF: This is in the "and related ppls" part bc I've already run out of Lifestealers lmaoo — uh. modern/urban. just. yea, slap that one there, we'll see if it sticks

•WENZO: Ballet bc I think Wenzo doing ballet feels weirdly fitting, somehow

•TAZOH: Ahahaha another one to the Someone Has To Do Jazz Up In This House™ — I just think it'd be fun, that's it

Yea that's uh. that's all I think. Thanks for coming to my maddened ramblings masquerading as a tedtalk

I need to make a Lifesteal chatfic. the problem is i don't really know SHIT about the dynamics between ppl so it'd be SO ooc it would be a disservice to everyone involved--

[theghostbunnie]

I’m curious but ever since you dropped your Harrison hcs I’ve been thinking about what he would be like when he gets older. Are there any hcs/info you have for him??

I'M SO HAPPY Y'ALL ARE INTERESTED IN MY HCS IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!! 💖💕💫🩷

I have like two paths I could see my version of older Harrison going down. Let's say roughly age 17 or so, he either swears off using absolutely any of his natural magical ability and keeps his illusion/slide of hand tricks utterly private for the most part. The first being a desperate attempt to regain his parents trust, the second with the card tricks being more of getting shamed out of being open with his peers with his hobbies. I wouldn't wanna see him kept on this path and I often pair it with some major character development story. (In my head atleast, I don't think I'd ever be able to use a fanfiction writing website or have the energy to regularly update one or anything like that. I would definitely maybe write short fics on Tumblr one day.. maybe)

The other option being he actually never stopped working on his talents like that and has steadily gotten so much better. (At the start of the show he accidentally sets David on fire, in much later episodes he's able to make rings of flame, already MAJORR improvement!!) He works on his other abilities, making things levitate ect.

So when they start having these hiccups, often small physical items or spells bursting out of him during strong feelings (leading to panic and embarrassment only making it worse.) Harrison feels like it's a total setback. That his work so far didn't mean anything, he has no idea where his powers come from and as they change he apparently has no idea how to control them after all. Alot of old doubts, and new ones emerge. "Maybe it would've been better to have never had them in the first place."

I like to think after awhile he regains this hold over it, and it was just a sign of like. His magic going through puberty/hj and it turns out stronger in the end.

Other older Harrison HCs include he's definitely a swiftie and jumps up on his bed lipsyncing doing a fucking Matilda as shit floats everywhere.

His formal vest and top hat get switched out for a casual vest and beanie hat (constant hat hair) wouldn't it be so funny if he had a top hat shaped pin on it/hj

His like signature little thing I love putting on his clothes and drawing him with is the ace of spades. Small charms n shit I love it.

His frienemy thing with Nerris as she matures turns more into friend leaning. (Bc like, their dynamic is not 50/50 she is nearly always the one coming at or for HIM 😭 and it's coming from a very childish reasoning- which is okay. Bc she's a child.) So as she gets older and grows out of her issues that caused them to not get along they become closer.

Mostly due to them both being much better friends with Preston and spending time with each other via him.

But since they're older and Preston fills alot of his time with the multiple hobbies he has and Nerris has other friends to hangout with, Harrison is still left on his own sometimes. He goes through these bits of bad mental health and "everyone hates me" thoughts but doesn't really let anyone know about it.

I have this OC Quincy, technically not a camp camp oc I'm actually embarrassed sometimes to add him into things bc he doesn't fit the vibe of cc what so ever but the angst he can make is so good 2 me

He's this demon with magical know-how but no power of hisown. I like to think of Harrison (who notoriously throughout the show wants company.) Kinda ignores all the red flags and "I've always said don't judge a book by it's cover"s his way into accidentally getting manipulated by him. But also getting incredibly helpful magic lessons out of it too before it comes to a head.

[gutsfics]

im actually putting effort into a building in Sims for once instead of just hoping to find something close-enough-but-not-really on the gallery 🤯

so here's the first floor of the building Noah and Devi live in, which is Baby Jane's!

there's no option for running a restaurant on the same lot as the one you live in so its mostly just for rp purposes

its somewhat based on a diner here in [town i live in]. its got amazing hush puppies but horrendous service. one of the last times i went my dad was fully done w his food before i got mine 🫠 also its like constantly full of flies

anyway here's a little headcanon for you: at some point after everything settles down post ILW, Devi gets contacted by whoever is in charge of Adrian Kim's estate & offered a bunch of money as a show of good faith (read: they don't want him to sue, which literally never crossed his mind but they dont know that), and bc Devi was having some trouble getting/keeping a job due to Having Been Dead For Four Years he was like "😶..... suuuuuure" fully expecting just a little nest egg he and Noah could save for a rainy day.

they ended up giving him enough money not only to open Baby Jane's, but to fully own the building its in, which is big enough its got a little suite above it

[fortheloveofwonderland]

A Memory Locked In The Heart - Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

A/N - Requested by the lovely @overduelibrarybooks I hope this was the kind of thing you were looking for!

Find my masterlist here.

My taglists are open and requests are open.

Requested: Yes l No

Request: "could u ever write a spencer reid x reader where reader def works for the cia but more as a translator who’s kinda forced into doing agenty things in order to gather intel and on a mandated break she finds out the UNSUB before the team does so she uses herself as bait, and shoots the guy all very badass fashion n then gets interrogated bc ms girl just shot him coldblood and halfway thru she recognizes spencer bc her mother and his mom lived in the same care facility??? idk sorry my mom has paranoid too so it just hits different but u don’t have to write this if u don’t want to i love ur writing <3"

CW: disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the CIA and what they investigate so please go easy on me here. This is all made up so hopefully it makes some kind of sense. Mentions of violence and sex work, schizophrenia, Alzheimer’s, some swears. Mentions of drug use and overdose. Spanish used towards the end is from Google Translate so I apologise if it isn’t completely accurate. Italics indicate flashbacks.

Plot: Eighteen years ago you met a boy named Spencer Reid whilst visiting your mother at Bennington Sanitorium. This time you are meeting under entirely different circumstances; across the table of an interrogation room.

WC: 5.3K

—————————————————————

How did I end up here?

That was a question you kept asking yourself as you rolled into your third hour of sitting in that cold, dimly lit interrogation room at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia.

Well you supposed you’d have to go back to the beginning to truly work that out.

The CIA and FBI joint task force for a country wide sex trafficking ring they believed to be operating out of DC.

When your team at the CIA had started investigating it was estimated that the ring had close to a hundred women who had been abducted and forced into the sex industry.

A lot of women were believed to have been taken trying to cross the border. Your job as a translator had involved spending a lot of time in Mexico, helping interview witnesses and family members who didn’t speak English.

The FBI involvement had come when women believed to have been part of the trafficking ring started turning up dead.

At last count they were up to twenty bodies. The Behavioural Analyst Unit had given their profile of the man they believed to be running the show.

White male in his mid to late forties. Bilingual. Possibly born in Mexico or an area surrounding the border but grew up in DC, they assumed based on his knowledge of the area. He’s attractive, charming and has a good level of education, he’d need to be able to charm the women into trusting him. He doesn’t have a full time job because he wouldn’t have time for one. All his time and focus goes on his girls. He was tech savvy, incredibly so, he’d have to be, to be able to set up the network on the dark web which enabled his customers to pay for his services.

It hadn’t been going well. Bodies kept dropping and the task force was no closer to catching the person responsible.

This went on for six months. Everyone was exhausted. You kept hitting brick wall after brick wall. It was demoralising.

Your boss had called for mandated time off. You’d all argued but she had been absolutely adamant. You’d all been working yourselves to the bone and she didn’t want you burnt out entirely.

You’d argued but your words had fallen on deaf ears.

“Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

The voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see the lanky, messy haired agent who called himself Doctor Reid, sticking his head through the door.

“Is coffee an option?”

He smiled brightly at you, a smile you swear you’ve seen before.

“Coffee is always an option.” He told you. “How do you take it?”

“Strong and black. Please.”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that the door closed leaving you to your thoughts once more.

There was something so familiar about the Doctor. His dark yet sparkling eyes, his awkward smile and the way he dressed. You couldn’t place it. But there was definitely something about him that stirred some memory buried deep in your brain. You just weren’t sure what it was.

He returned a few minutes later, bringing your coffee into the room and placing it on the table in front of you.

“Hopefully you won’t be stuck here too much longer. It’s just standard procedure.” he spoke sweetly, his voice stirring the hidden memory.

“Yeah I know. I get it.” you sighed as you spoke, wrapping your hands around the coffee. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.” he smiled before he started backing out of the room. You wished you could ask him to stay because you felt so much more at ease with him around. But you knew you couldn’t.

He turned to you in the doorway.

“You look cold in that.” He smiled a little sadly at you.

You’d forgotten about your outfit choice. No self respecting CIA agent dressed like you were right now.

“I guess I am a little.” You shrugged.

Spencer instantly shrugged his blazer off of his shoulders and laid it in front of you on the table.

“Thank you Doctor Reid.” you spoke again before he disappeared out the door.

“Goodbye Agent Y/L/N.”

The door closed, his voice reverberating in your ears, dragging you into a long forgotten memory.

As you slipped his jacket on, your eyes fluttered closed, his scent wafting up your nose.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes shot back open, a frown on your face.

“Spencer?” you muttered under your breath. “Spencer Reid.”

Where had you pulled that name from? And why did it feel oddly connected to Vegas?

You tried to push the thought away, you already had enough on your mind. There were much more pressing things to deal with than a vague memory from your hometown an undetermined amount of time ago.

***

You’d been instructed to switch off. Your time off should be used to recoup, relax and not to think about the case.

Easier said than done you thought.

Before you’d left the office on your mandated leave you’d taken photocopies of some files and slipped them into your bag. You knew you’d be in trouble if you were caught but you couldn’t help yourself. You wouldn’t be able to relax with this case still open.

As far as you were aware the BAU was still working on it but it provided you little comfort. In your time with the CIA you’d never gotten to be involved so heavily in a case. Your skills were mostly utilised in interview capacities and then you were sidelined.

You’d never had the privilege to work on a joint task force or investigate a crime so brutal.

You felt personally invested in this case. You thought if you could just find that one missing puzzle piece you could crack this case wide open.

And then you’d found it. The golden ticket. The smoking gun. The missing piece.

It had taken five days of your leave and copious amounts of coffee but you’d connected the dots no one else had.

You knew how to draw the unsub out. And you were going to do it tonight.

***

“Let’s start again from the beginning shall we?” Agent Rossi linked his fingers together on top of the table as he looked across at you, still slowly sipping your coffee.

“Oh goody.” You sighed. “Could Agent Jareau not fill you in what I’ve already told her?”

“Humour me.” The old man shrugged.

You didn’t have any ill will against him. Far from it. You were actually a big fan of David Rossi. But you were sick and tired of being treated like a criminal.

“Tell me how you managed to work out how to find him.”

You took another long sip of the coffee.

“All the pieces were there, they just hadn’t been put into place.”

“And how did you piece them together?”

“There was a pattern to where the women had been last seen. It was a guess more than anything. A lucky guess.”

“And the pattern was?”

You sighed in frustration.

“As I told agent Jareau,” you sipped your coffee. “The bars they were last seen in all had ties to Mexico. I’m not a native to DC but I know the area like the back of my hand. They were all either Mexican owned, had a Mexican name or were previously establishments such as Mexican restaurants. I made an educated guess that he frequented places such as these looking for his targets. I just got lucky I picked the right one.”

***

You felt incredibly exposed, but you supposed that was the point.

If you were going to get this guy's attention, you had to do this right.

It was a long shot. Just because Western’s bar was known for its famous tacos did not mean it would be the place he chose to pick up girls.

You just had to hope.

You wore a skimpy skirt that barely covered your ass, knee high boots and a crop top that accentuated your assets.

Your firearm was hidden in your left boot.

Your outfit garnered a lot of looks as you headed through Westerns towards the bar.

You felt men’s eyes on you from every angle, making you feel extremely self conscious. But you needed to keep your cool, exude confidence.

If your guy was here he needed to see you shine.

You ordered a soda to keep your head clear and sat at a table over the far side of the bar. From there you had a good view of the entrance and most of the room. And more importantly, the room had a view of you.

Three hours you sat there nursing your soda. It was a huge stab in the dark, you weren’t really surprised.

You finished your drink and headed out onto the cool DC street.

You made it five steps before you felt a presence behind you.

Just as you were about to turn, something covered your mouth.

You struggled against a pair of strong arms.

A smell wafted up your nose seconds before you lost consciousness.

Chloroform.

***

“Why didn’t you tell your unit chief before you went in?”

“Because I thought it was a long shot.” And because she would have been furious I was working the case.

“So you chose to use yourself as bait?”

“Yes.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Do you know how dangerous that could have been?” Rossi raised an eyebrow at you.

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Yes agent Rossi, I’m well aware. But I had a lead and I wasn’t going to ignore it.” You pulled Doctor Reid’s jacket tighter around your scantily clad body.

You caught his scent again. Coffee. Old books. A hint of peppermint.

Another long shut off memory wormed it’s way to the surface.

“So are you here visiting someone?”

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly. “My mom.”

“Oh.” He returned your sad smile. “Me too.”

“Agent Y/L/N?”

You were brought back by Rossi’s concerned voice.

“Hmm?”

“I said, what happened next? You were chloroformed and then what?”

You shook your head, your mind clouded.

“Can we take a break? I could really use some air.”

Rossi sighed with a small nod.

He stood from his chair and motioned you to follow him.

You got some odd looks from his fellow agents as he led you to the elevators. They all recognised what you were wearing as Spencer’s jacket.

You followed Rossi into the elevator and he pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Agent Rossi, can I ask you a strange question?” You asked as the doors closed.

He gave you a curious look.

“I suppose.”

“Doctor Reid. As in Spencer Reid?”

“The one and only.” Rossi frowned unsure what you were getting at.

“Where is he from?”

Rossi’s frown deepened, not sure he should tell you such things about his team. But you were an agent and you didn’t pose a threat to the team.

“Vegas I believe.”

Vegas. Of course.

“Ok.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t know.” You chewed your lip. “I think I might have known him.”

“Oh?”

You wished you hadn’t opened your mouth. This was not the time or place.

“I’m probably wrong. Just forget I said anything.”

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As you stepped out you pulled Spencer’s collar to your nose and sniffed it.

No you weren’t wrong.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Hi again.” You smiled at the lanky man, Spencer you’d met a few days ago. “How’s your mom?”

“Still angry at me.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor.

“She came in recently?”

“Yeah a few months ago. I turned eighteen and I was able to have her put into care.” He blanched, clearly feeling guilty for his decision.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“Uhm sure.” He shrugged.

He followed you through to the day room. It was late and there were only a few patients inside and a few nurses milling around.

You got two cups of coffee from the machine and the two of you sat at a table together.

“Do you mind me asking what’s wrong with your mom?” You dared as you slid him the drink.

He sighed heavily, gnawing on his bottom lip as though his life depended on it.

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He spoke clinically, words he’d had to say too many times in his life. It was as though he’d distanced himself from it. Like he was giving a patient a diagnosis rather than talking about his own mother.

“Mine too.” You gave him a wry smile. You had something in common, just not something you would like to have in common.

“How long has your mom been here?”

“Three years. She got really bad and my dad couldn’t take care of her anymore. She’s been doing much better since she moved in here.”

“That’s good.” Spencer nodded. “I hope my mom realises I did this for her. For her well being. At the moment she’s just so...angry.”

You reached across the table and placed your hand on top of his. He seemed a little startled by the physical touch but you didn’t move your hand.

“This is the best place for her. I assume from what you said earlier your dad isn’t in the picture?”

He used his free hand to sip his coffee with a sad shake of his head.

“He left when I was ten. He couldn’t handle mom's illness.”

You gave his hand a small squeeze.

“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to have to look after her by yourself. It was hard enough with my dad there. Really makes you grow up fast.”

“It really does.” He agreed. “I’m not sure I ever got to be a kid.”

“I know that feeling.”

After that you spent hours chatting about anything and everything until way into the night. It wasn’t until a nurse came and asked you politely to leave that you realised how late it was.

“I’ll probably see you around?” You spoke as you stepped outside together.

“Maybe. In a few weeks I’m heading out of state. I’m working on a PhD.” He didn’t want to tell you it was actually his second PhD.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to hide the disappointment from your voice.

Despite the circumstances you’d enjoyed talking to someone like minded, someone who understood. You didn’t have anyone else your own age you could talk to about this kind of thing.

“Maybe we could exchange numbers?” You blushed a little.

“I don’t have a cellphone.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

“It’s not an excuse.” He sensed you didn’t believe him. “I’m not so into technology. I don’t even have email.”

Normally you would have thought it was just a bad excuse to get out of seeing you again but the look on Spencer’s face told you he was being genuine.

“Ok.” You gave him a shy smile. “Well maybe I’ll see you again before you leave.”

“I hope so.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at you on the dark street.

There was an air between you, some kind of thick tension but you didn’t know what it meant.

“If I don’t see you again,” you spoke trying to ignore whatever it was. “It was really good to meet you and I hope your mom gets used to the facility.”

“You too.” He smiled so genuinely at you, it made your heart skip a beat.

And then you went your separate ways.

***

“Ok, so what happened next?” Rossi wasted no time once you were back in the interrogation room.

“Well I blacked out after I was chloroformed so excuse me if I don’t remember.” You gave him a sarcastic smile.

“What’s the next thing you do remember?” He reworded his question.

“I woke up in a large basement. It was gritty and dingy. And there were other women there too.”

“How many?”

“At least twenty.” You sighed letting your mind travel back to the basement you never wanted to go back to. Not even in your mind.

***

You woke with a start, your head pounding. You gasped for air as though you’d been drowning.

You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the dark room you found yourself in.

It was cold and damp and you could hear a pipe dripping in the distance.

You tried to roll over but your arm wouldn’t budge. You were met by a loud clanking sound when you tried.

You tugged your arm, hearing the same sound and being met with a sharp pain in your wrist.

“Good luck.” A woman’s voice scoffed. “They don’t come loose.”

You blinked a few more times, looking over to your left arm. There was a heavy metal cuff right around your wrist that was attached to a metal bed frame.

That’s when you realised you were laying on a small cot on top of a ratty, itchy blanket. You were still dressed, thank god.

You suddenly remembered your firearm concealed in your boot. You patted your left calf and sure enough you felt the hard weapon still inside.

That was something at least.

Oversight on their part.

You remembered the voice you’d heard before and turned as much as you could with your arm cuffed to take in the rest of the room.

There were at least forty other cots close together lining the walls, with at least half of them containing the body of other women.

The voice you’d heard belonged to a woman in the cot next to you. She gave you a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes were broken.

“Hi,” you croaked. “I’m Y/N.”

“Delilah.” Her accent was Spanish. You were sure Delilah wasn’t her real name either.

“How long have you been here?”

She sighed, playing with a strand of curly black hair.

“What month is it?”

“September.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “Not that long then. I’ve been here since July.” She looked confused as though that couldn’t be long enough.

“Delilah?” You narrowed your eyes on her. “What year do you think it is?”

“2018…” she saw your face drop and knew instantly it was no longer 2018.

“Oh gosh.” You felt for her, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s 2020.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Wow.”

“It’s ok.” You lowered your voice. “I’m CIA. I’m going to get us out of here. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

***

“Delilah.” Rossi opened the file in front of him. “Was that Roberta Suez?”

He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. You averted your gaze.

“Yes and please I don’t need to see it, I was there.”

“How did she end up in hospital fighting for her life?”

“You know how.” You huffed. “Look I’m starting to get fed up with this now.” You folded your arms. “Carlos Ramirez was a sick son of a bitch. If I hadn’t done what I did he would have killed all those women. I don’t regret what I did.”

“How did she end up in hospital?” He repeated.

“Good lord.” You grumbled. “I’ll talk but I don’t want to talk to you.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes on you.

“No? But I’m so compassionate.” He spoke sarcastically.

“I won’t say another word unless it’s to Reid.” You looked up to the two way mirror. You didn’t know why but you had a feeling he was there.

Sure enough it was barely twenty seconds before the door opened and Doctor Reid himself stepped in the room.

“I got this Rossi.” Spencer told the older man who stood up with a shrug.

Rossi left the room while Spencer took the seat he’d been occupying.

Did he remember you? It had been close to twenty years since you’d last seen each other. Had it not been for the olfactory memory that struck you when you put on his jacket you might never have remembered him.

But you knew the rest of his team was behind the two way glass, or at least some of them were so it didn’t seem an appropriate time to ask such things.

“So agent Y/L/N,” he smiled softly at you. “Can you please tell me how Delilah ended up in hospital?”

“You already know the answer to that Doctor but since you asked so nicely,” you leant your elbows on the table, entwined your fingers and rested your chin the little bridge you’d created. “She had a drug overdose. But you and I both know it wasn’t her who administered the drugs.”

“And who did?”

“I did.”

Your words hung in the air between you and Spencer. He knew the answer, the whole team did. You’d already told Agent Jareau everything.

This was a huge waste of time.

“I administered the drugs because he told me if I didn’t he would kill me. I needed to stay alive so I could save those women.”

“Who said he would kill you?”

“I don’t know his name.”

“It wasn’t Ramirez?”

“No.” You shook your head. “If it was Ramirez I would have shot him. But it must have been one of his right hand men.”

“How would you know that? You’d never met Ramirez correct?” Spencer had a soft tone to his voice which made his line of questioning easier than Agent Jareau’s.

“I’m not a profiler but I’ve been to enough seminars over the years. He didn’t fit the bill. He was young, scatty, he didn’t strike as much fear into the other women as I thought the boss would. I made an educated guess and I was right. If I’d shot at him I would have blown my chance at getting Ramirez.”

***

“Shit shit shit!” You pulled yourself as close to Delilah’s cot as possible with your restraint. “Delilah, keep breathing, try to breath. Fuck I am sorry.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks, the empty needle you’d been made to inject in her vein between your cots on the floor.

He’d held a gun to your head and said he would shoot you if you didn’t do it. You didn’t think he was bluffing.

“It happens a lot.” A woman opposite spoke up. “You’ll soon find out. If she wakes up she’ll have the pleasure of returning the favour.” She gave you an almost manic grin.

If she wakes up. It was the if you were having the issue with.

“Who’s in charge around here?”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know his name. Big guy. Tattoos. Mustache. You can’t miss him.”

“Does he come down here often?”

Again she shrugged.

“Being down here you have a way of losing track of time.” She clicked her tongue. “But he’ll be here for you later. He has to test his new girls.”

Your blood ran cold.

“Test?” You swallowed, pretty sure you knew what she meant.

“He can’t very well expect you to make him money if he doesn’t know how good you are.”

Oh god.

Your heartbeat raced. No, it was not going to come to that. You were a CIA agent and you were armed.

It was not going to come to that.

***

Spencer’s face paled a little at your words. You hadn’t told Agent Jareau that part.

“He was going to...he didn’t…”

“No.” You cut him off, pushing the memory back down. “I had a gun, remember.”

You offered him a wry smile.

“So you know what comes next.”

“I’d like you to tell me.”

The way he said it was more like he was a therapist than an FBI agent. As though he wanted you to tell him so you could get it off your chest, unburden yourself, rather than for interrogation purposes.

“Ok.” You nodded. “He came for me later that night. And that’s when it happened.”

***

“Ahh look at you.”

A deep, Spanish voice woke you.

Your eyes fluttered open and landed on a strong, tattooed man with a mustache standing over your cot.

This must be him.

“Tan hermosa.”

So beautiful.

You tried not to shudder.

You sat up wiggling your legs in your boots to make sure you could still feel your firearm. You could.

“Su nombre es Rosa.”

Your name is Rosa.

Guess again.

“Su nombre es Y/N.”

“Tú hablas español?”

You speak Spanish?

“Si.”

“Eres perfecta.” He grinned menacingly. “My clients will love you.”

He reached in his pocket and fished out a key chain. He reached over you and unlocked your cuff.

You rolled your wrist to try and get your blood circulating again.

“On your feet.”

You complied and stood up. Your legs were shaky.

He grasped your wrist, hard enough so you couldn’t wriggle free but not hard enough to leave a mark. He started dragging you across the room.

With his free hand he undid the four locks on the large steel door and pulled your through it. Once on the other side he took care to lock them all again, keeping a firm grasp on you the whole time.

You were dragged down a long, narrow corridor towards another steel door, this one with just one lock on.

He slid the key in and opened it, pulled you inside and locked it behind him.

The room was much smaller than the one you’d been held in and only housed a single cot.

He licked his lip as he looked at you. His large, thick fingers stroked your cheek and you had to try and hide your disgust.

“En la cama. Ahora.”

On the bed. Now.

You had to pick the opportune moment. You had to plan this just right. You had no doubt he had a gun on him so if you faltered even slightly, he would kill you.

“Qué tal esto.”

How about this.

You made a show of licking your lips and then dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Whoa, feisty. I like it.” He grinned, his meaty hands going to his belt buckle.

Yes. Right where you wanted him.

While he was fumbling with his belt, you reached your hand back into your left boot, drawing your gun in one swift move.

You head butted him in the crotch, sending him stumbling backwards, crying out in pain.

“Mierda!” Shit. “Usted puta!”

You whore!

You were on your feet in a second, your gun trained on him.

“You will never hurt another woman again.” You spat, furious tears suddenly streaming from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his mouth opened to speak.

But the words didn’t come out as your bullet hit him between the eyes.

“Who’s the puta now?”

***

“I would say,” Spencer chewed his lip. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank god.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. “And I did. If I hadn’t shot him, who knows how many other women would have died.”

Spencer pushed his chair back and stood up.

“Just so you know, we got word from the hospital a little while ago. Roberta Suez, Delilah, is going to be just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt tears brimming your eyes.

He opened the door and turned back to you.

“Are you coming?”

“I can leave?”

“You were never under arrest.” He smirked at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You got up from the chair and Spencer motioned you out of the room.

“I’ll walk you out.” He showed you across the bullpen towards the elevators. There was an awkward air between the two of you.

Did you say anything? It didn’t seem as though he remembered you, was it worth reminding him?

He motioned you into the elevator first and he followed, pressing the button.

The elevator started its descent.

Time was running out.

“So uhm…” Spencer turned to you and turned too. “How’s your mom?”

A smile broke out on your features.

“I didn’t think you remembered me.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “I recognised you the second you walked in.”

“It’s been twenty years.” You laughed.

“Eighteen years, seven months.” He corrected you. “But I could never forget your face.”

You blushed a little, averting your gaze.

“My moms doing ok. Thanks for asking. How’s your mom?” You looked back at him.

“Recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.” He told you sadly.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. These things happen.” He shrugged. “Made it to thirty without having a schizophrenic break but now I have to wait until I’m older to find out if I’ll develop Alzheimer’s.”

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped out, Spencer close behind.

“I really am sorry Spencer.”

“It’s ok.” He shrugged. “Is your mom still at Bennington? I used to see her when I went to visit my mom but I moved her out a little while ago.”

“Yeah she’s still there. She likes being close to my dad.”

You both hovered by the exit, not ready to say goodbye.

“Can I take you for coffee? If you don’t have anywhere else to be.” Spencer blushed as he spoke.

“I’d like that. A lot actually. But I’d really like to shower and change out of this getup.” You laughed. “How about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds perfect.” He grinned at you.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you made it to the door Spencer spoke again.

“Y/N,” he called your name, his voice cracking a little. “You uh...you forgot something.”

You turned to face him curiously.

He walked closer to you and without a second thought, placed his hands on your face and kissed you.

For a second you stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

But after a few moments you wrapped your arms around his neck and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss ended you were both smiling at one another.

“What was that for?” You asked softly.

“Oh you know…” he shrugged with a coy smile. “Just something that needed to be done.”

“I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.” You told him, touching his chest briefly.

“Ok.”

“Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.” He croaked.

And with that you sauntered out the doors but not out of his life.

***

Las Vegas, Nevada - 1999

“Spencer?” You’d only made it a few paces away from Bennington before you stopped in your tracks, calling his name. “You uh...you forgot something.”

He turned to face you curiously.

You walked closer to him and without a second thought, placed your hands on his face and kissed him.

He stood frozen, in shock of what was going on.

It was just a brief kiss, Spencer was too confused to do anything but stand there dumbly.

“Wh-what was that for?” He swallowed.

“Just something that needed to be done.” You smiled. “Bye Spencer Reid.”

“Bye Y/N Y/L/N.”

And with that you sauntered back down the street, hoping that one day, the universe would lead you back into each other’s lives.

—————————————————————

Taglist (let me know if you would like to be added) -

@muffin-cup

@andiebeaword

@mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain

[tau1tvec]

hi! i love your blog so much and all the games you play always look so fun through your pictures! i wanted to buy cyberpunk 2077 but i'm hesitant because i've heard mixed reviews on it and it's pretty expensive. i would like to know your thoughts on it if you don't mind sharing them since i really respect you as a gamer! <3

Oh wow, ty.

I'm kinda finicky about which games I play tho, mostly bc I'm limited on time these days, but also bc they are indeed way to expensive, esp in this economy.

So I find I tend to play games that are more... versatile? Like, I can get plenty of hours, and uses out of it I guess, and luckily Cyberpunk 2077 mostly scratches that itch, and by mostly I mean... eh, it has it's downsides, so I'll go through those below.

Quality

Well it's gorgeous, so it will require a pretty beefy computer to run it, but I was able to play it with a 1060 GTX pretty okay, using the AMD Fidelity thingy in the settings helped a lot with keeping it playable, without losing quality.

Otherwise, as for the quality of the game, and gameplay itself, it has improved drastically since it first launched. The bugs are pretty far and few for me now, even before I got my RTX card, and CDPR has done a pretty swell job adding a lot of the features fans asked for, which is cool.

I still highly suggest that if you do get it, get it on a PC... it's alright to play without Mods, but Mods in general just add much longer life to games, the modding community is also pretty active rn, and so many mods have truly managed to make it the game people wanted it to be from the start.

Gameplay

There are plenty of difficulty options, if this is a concern, and I'm pretty sure you can change the difficulty while playing. The gameplay is simple enough otherwise, as it's FPP at all times, even in cutscenes, so you never see your V, unless you're in Photomode, but there are mods out there to allow you to see your V in third person as well.

I personally enjoy using AMM and a camera mod.

Otherwise the gun combat is stellar, I rather enjoy it, and the stealth is pretty fun esp with the use of your hacking abilities. Learning it all was pretty easy... mostly, it took me some time to figure out how the skill tree worked, but much of it is certainly a lot more straightforward than CDPR's previous titles imo.

Melee combat on the other hand... is... meh, but first person and melee is kind of a tough concept for me to wrap my head around sometimes, lol.

Missions, are a give and take depending which mission it is. The main story missions are gr8, lots of cutscenes, lots of action, lots of twists, but the further you get down the ladder, they tend to get repetitive don't involve a lotta story, or cutscenes, and the characters you meet during them aren't all too memorable, unless you loot the reading material you run across while doing them. Leveling is based on how much you do combat, or hack, so... there are times where I felt like I was just killing random gang members for money and points, then emptying out my inventory... wash, rinse, repeat.

Now as for the other aspects of gameplay, the character creation is okay... like it isn't the best, you can't do much with your V beyond choosing from a set of presets Potato Head Style, but similar to The Sims 4 it's quite easy to make a very pretty V with little to no effort... though it's likely they'll still end up looking like everyone else's. For a more unique looking V however, mods would help.

The world isn't as interactive as it should be either, which in a way I can understand bc it's a pretty big, densely populated, and highly detailed open world, but idk... perhaps Bethesda has spoiled me.

I rather enjoy breaking into people's houses CDPR, tyvm.

Dialogue options are... limited, but it is a voiced protag... the voices are well done tho, and depending on the path you chose at the beginning ( street kid, corpo, etc. ), you will occasionally get options that differ from the others, so this does help a bit with replayability.

Replayability

Now speaking of replayability, I weirdly don't find it as replay friendly as other games, like Skyrim, I guess bc it's a bit more linear, and although you can change how you play, what you say, and how you build your character, the story kinda still pans out the same way really... it's also super short. The main story is anyway, I've literally just been spamming side missions with my Corpo V, bc I'm just not "emotionally" ready to play the final mission, but even though I felt I kinda paced myself, I still somehow got to the end mission waaayyy too quickly, and now I'm running outta side missions to do.

Some of them... luckily, are pretty interesting, and will string you through three or four more missions to complete their own little story, but idk... some felt a bit underwhelming in the end.

Romances

They're cute, but there could've been more. I've romanced Panam and Kerry, and I enjoyed both, and they offered some fun missions leading up to the romantic portion as well so it doesn't feel rushed... sadly not all of the romances are like this. They've got preferences as well, so depending on your V's gender and path, some you'll find are able to be approached, but might not be interested.

There are plenty of other really amazing relationships in the game that aren't romantic too, and that's honestly where this game truly excels. Despite what's going on, it's obvious the core focus of the story is more about the people you meet, and connections you make along the way, so it was really cute watching my Corpo V's interactions with Judy blossom into a very sweet brother/sister type relationship.

Final Word

Honestly if you enjoy roleplaying games, it's a pretty good one, you assume a role, you play it... it's a game ??? Sadly, again, due to the relatively linear story, it still doesn't feel as much like an RPG as it should, esp if your idea of an RPG is more Bethesda or BioWare, and less Final Fantasy.

Now if you've got an imagination however, and plenty of time to download mods it can absolutely scratch that roleplaying itch, but much if it will be in your head, if what the game offers isn't doing it for you.

My suggestion... wait until Black Friday rolls around, and get it on sale.