#these jokes about his hair are so effing annoying

[suugarbabe]

heyyyy congrats on getting 1k followers!!!!!!

i was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x fem! Slytherin reader? Like a enemy’s to like a slow burn lovers? so Fred was always kind of a jerk to the reader until like 5th year. And he went up to her and was trying to be nice but she walked off and muttered “I effing hate you Weasley” ( 😂) and so he didn’t talk to her for like a year but after a potions class in 6th year they ended up starting to get close? Idk I think it’s a fun idea lol

but once again CONGRATULATIONS 🥳

You all know I love Fred Weasley 😊 not proofread

If someone were to ask you why you hated Fred Weasley, you would tell them that it had always been that way. Your opinion on him had been solidified since first year, he had always been a right prick to you for no apparent reason. As far as you knew, you had done nothing to him for it to be that way, nothing but be sorted into Slytherin. 

For someone who came from a family that was open about not caring about blood purity, he was pretty judgemental of someone strictly due to their house colors. You had found yourself the victim of his pranks several times over the last six years; completely soaked clothing, firecrackers exploding near your feet, insects crawling out of your textbooks. They were all juvenile in your opinion but Fred seemed to get nothing but joy out of your torture. 

So in fifth year when he started walking next to you on the way to Herbology your body physically tensed, awaiting his next prank. After thirty seconds of walking and nothing happening you couldn’t stop your lips from asking him what was happening. 

“Can I help you, Weaslebee?” the sneer was evident in your tone and Fred held his hands over his chest, faking offense. 

“Can a guy just walk next to a pretty girl on her way to class?” The sentence made you stop dead in your tracks, Fred following suit and turning to face you. “Go to Hogsmead with me this weekend.” 

It was a statement more than a question, but either way you could not believe what you were hearing. You looked around you, trying to see if you could spot the other red head that was typically attached to Fred to anticipate what you were sure was a joke. When you finally looked back towards Fred his eyebrows were raised, clearly anticipating your answer. 

“Are you joking?” you crossed your arms, leaning into one hip. Fred chuckled lightly, “No, go to Hogsmead with me, please?” he added the pleasantry to the end to make it more of a question. 

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Are you mental? Did one of your childish pranks go off in your face, Frederick?” He flinched slightly at the nickname you used to annoy him. “Never, in a million billion years would I go anywhere with you. I fucking hate you, Weasley.” And with that, you walked off to class, leaving Fred standing in the corridor dumbfounded. 

Since that moment you and he barely interacted. You had anticipated more pranks to be played on you since your harsh exchange, but they had seemingly stopped all together after that day. You had honestly put him out of your mind until the second term of your sixth year, when you walked into potions and was basically assaulted by dual heads of red hair. You scoffed slightly to yourself before finding a seat next to one of your housemates as Professor Snape walked in and up to his desk. 

When Snape said you were going to start this term off with a partner assignment you weren’t too bothered, whispering to your friend next to you about how you would go about it. However, when he stated that he had already picked out your partners and that you were going to be working with someone from a different house, the entire room let out a collective groan. 

That was how you found yourself sitting next to none other than Fred Weasley, who couldn’t seem to get that shit eating grin off of his face. The task was to create three different potions over the next three months, one potion per month. The three potions you were tasked with were Alihotsy Draught (a potion that causes hysterical laughter), Jawbind potion (a potion that induces lockjaw) and lastly Amortentia (love potion).

“Well I guess we’ll test the first one on you to see if it works since you never seem to smile,” Fred teased. You rolled your eyes, “Only if I get to test the second one on you. Would be nice to see your mouth closed for longer than a millisecond.” You expected a witty retort from the redhead, but instead he just laughed, not like a teasing laugh or anything either, just a genuine laugh. For whatever reason this made you smile, however you quickly tried to hide it from him. 

Over the next two months you were forced to spend time with Fred Weasley nearly three days a week, sometimes more depending on the stage of your potions. At first, you treated it like torture, finding yourself trying to angrily banter back and forth with him. 

But when Fred seemed to not appear as angry as he used to, you found yourself interested to see what type of reactions you could get out of him. Thus, you began to flirt. Little harmless things at first, using sarcasm to be suggestive. Fred’s eyebrows would raise in slight surprise but then he would return the banter. 

You didn’t know when your harmless flirting turned into actual flirting, but when you met Fred to start brewing the Amortentia, you felt your heart beat faster and your stomach flutter when he entered the room and winked at you. 

“Mornin’, gorgeous, are you ready for love?” Fred wiggled his eyebrows and your cheeks immediately flushed. You stuttered slightly trying to respond, causing him to speak again, “The potion, love. Are you ready to start?”

“Oh, erm, yes, let’s have a go at it then,” you cursed yourself internally for looking so stupid in front of him. You two worked in general silence after that, aside from asking for ingredients or directions. 

When the brew started to turn the right color Fred leaned over to smell it. A smirk grew on his face as he did so. 

“What? What do you smell, Freddie?” The nickname slipped from your lips accidentally. Fred turned to you immediately when you said it, his expression unreadable. “How about you take a smell first, then I’ll tell you.” 

You took a step closer to the cauldron, your senses overwhelmed by the most delicious scent of cinnamon and vanilla. There was a third scent there, something you recognized but couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

When you took a second, deeper, sniff the realization hit you. Your eyes widen, turning to face Fred now. The last scent was unmistakable now: firework smoke. You had smelled Fred Weasley in your love potion. 

Upon seeing your shocked state Fred only smiled, uncrossing his arms to place his large hands on either side of your waist. He leaned down, whispering softly in your ear, “Don’t fret, gorgeous. I smelled you too.”

[hologramcowboy]

I will start by thanking u for having this blog and opening my eyes on alot of things even though I dont agree on everything u say here ( I think Jensen was fantastic as SB he was simply the best thing about season 3) but I agree on alot of things that said here and the fact that Jensen choosed to be mediocre in all aspects of his life and it's just sad , for ex in acting he wasted his prime years doing soap opera and cheap cw tv , usually new actors with ambition will start with small budget and indie movies till they get better opportunities and stay away from tv because it's a known fact that's tv actors rarely make it out of tv , Jensen now want to be an A lister but it's too late now he is 45 , Jp fans always get mad when we compare him to movies stars ,but the truth is he have movie star qualities maybe he doesn't have the range to be campared with DiCaprio or rayan Gosling but actors like Chris Evans and Chris Hemsworth have nothing on him in term of talent, looks and charisma , it's just they were smarter in their choices , CE casted as CA based on his look ( blue eyes , blonde, good American boy ) and the character is one dimensional anyway and does not require range at all and just quick look at his post marvel work will show that he is even less versatile and more mediocre than Jensen, however he was smart ,before marvel he used to be in indie movies, romcom and failed blockbusters which help to put him on the map and give apportunites , while marvel wasn't looking for big names they will not hire tv actors either . Now for his marriage , I've noticed just like everybody how awkward they look as a couple and have zero chemistry and then some videos like pregnancy joke video or the WT premiere , he always looked annoyed, visibly cringed with her and sometimes he look straight up disgusted like when she tried to touch his hair , then I digged further here and I wish I dont cause now I dislike him , the fact that he cheated on his gf and backstabbed his friend and for what for this ? Is this the best he could do? Hollywood male actor will usually go for either super hot actresses like scarlett Johansson or black lively or an average one but have great personality and funny / great person and she is neither one these she is average in everything and she is not even nice to him , imagine my surprise when I found out that her acting carrier is consist of her being slutty and naked , I'm laughing bc jensen have no standard or class at all , it's hilarious that he went on SB press ranting that he can't do intimate scenes bc he is a family man when his wife is basically a grorified soft porn actress, he will never be CE bc that man have standard, he didn't tie himself up with tv and he knows that he is a frat boy and not exactly ment to be a family man so he didnt tie himself up with women and children, Jensen on the other hand isn't exactly a family man either but he did it anyway by half assing it and being away most of the time while his wife taking the wheel , and now he want to use this marriage to sell the image of powerful couple , the problem is outside their ig post they can't even pretend to like each other and even when they do like in the recent con they did together they dont have the chemistry of married couples and Jensen looked disgusted when she tried to kiss him , the fact that the happiest they ever looked together is when they were partying , drunk and wasted , tell me everything I want to know about their relationship , and I honestly I dont feel sorry for him for being stuck with a woman that he has zero passion for , it's his carma for being a cheap cheater

Hi, anon! I too was really shocked when I saw how trashy Danneel is. To think he backstabbed to people of value over her and also effed over Jared when he produced TW over her. She definitely makes me question his character deeply.

As for the second part of your ask, you forgot to turn on anonymous and your username was visible so I avoided posting that one, to protect your privacy.

[toweroftunes]

waaaaaay 😭 more than six sentences sunday ☀️

thank you for the tag as always @silluuuu!!! OKAY. as you know, I wanted to get Chapter 2 done by today (and was even writing more of it last night), but I'd rather have it be decent than rushed. that said, I'm including the beginning of this chapter below the cut because Happy New Year's and stuff!!!

anyway, please also enjoy Wes meeting Maka for technically the second time:

~~~~~

Turning around, Wes finally noticed that there was another person in the room. A person who was not his brother. A person who was now privy to the details of his sex life.

Not that Wes actually cared. He merely tilted his sunglasses up to the top of his head and said, “Oh. Hellooo.”

“Hello,” Maka replied.

Wes slid past Soul and sat in the seat next to Maka, extending his hand. “Wes Evans. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m usually ninety six percent less hungover, and twenty two percent more charming.”

Where the hell was he getting those numbers from? Soul briefly buried his face in his right hand. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m Maka.”

~~~~~

(Grain of salt, people. This is un-betaed):

~~~~~

Maka’s mouth was dry. Opening her eyes in a bleary state, she reached for the water she normally kept on her nightstand, only to find her arm falling through thin air instead. Oh, right. She wasn’t at home. She was at Soul’s place.

The dull throb of an oncoming headache spread across the left side of her skull. She pulled the blanket she was wrapped in over her face and groaned. Damn. She was supposed to get stuff done today. Ah, well, wouldn’t get to it any faster if she kept on laying there, would she?

So, Maka slowly sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes. On the coffee table a few feet away sat a small pile of pins and ties she’d made when she let her hair down. Next to it sat her water from the night before, mostly full. She knelt on the ground and inched her way over to it. After tossing back a good portion of the glass, Maka set her elbows on the table, buried her head in her hands, and let out a soft laugh.

It was kinda funny, wasn’t it? How things turn out sometimes?

At one point or another, she texted Star that she was staying at a friend’s. She didn’t bother to see what he texted back. Probably something inappropriate or annoying, but most likely both.

Shit, her phone! Where was…ah, she’d left it in her coat.

Turning her head in the direction of where she remembered the front door to be, she stood up and stretched out. Alright then…phone, phone, phone. She hoped it was still charged. 

Walking over to the coat rack, she took in just how nice Soul’s apartment was.

‘It’s not like, super dirty or anything,’ he’d said last night. ‘But I didn’t clean before I went out tonight, ya know?’ 

Maka remembered saying something she thought was funny, but looking back was probably embarrassing, in response. ‘Are you telling me that a potato flew around your room before I came?’ 

It couldn’t have been all too bad, though, because she remembered him laughing back, fumbling with his keys. ‘Really into your internet jokes, aren’t you?’ 

‘Who isn’t?’ 

‘Yeah, well, all I’m saying is that it usually doesn’t rain, ya know?’

There were smatterings of mess here and there, but living with Star, she’d seen worse. No doubt, when she got home, there’d be a full kitchen sink to still clean up. Lamenting that fact, she admired Soul’s clean enough kitchen and its shiny, matching appliances. 

The exposed brick in the hall made her think the place might be a gut-job. Or maybe it was just meant to look that way for character, or whatever it was people liked so much about exposed brick. Either way, Soul must be paying big bucks for it. Tall ceilings, a snow-dusted balcony, and a living room large enough to comfortably fit a grand effing piano in the corner – all that was definitely more than the six seventy five a month she was paying living with Star and Tsu.

Reaching the entryway and making for her coat, she wondered not for the first time in the last twelve hours, how he actually afforded this place. In her wondering, she shoved her hands a tad too roughly into her pockets, causing the coat to fall to the floor. 

“Come on…” she muttered to herself. Kneeling down to grab the thing, she was met eye-level with a large frame covered in semi-torn bubble wrap, leaning against the wall. Peaking out at the edge of the ripped plastic, was an overly serious version of someone who looked an awful lot like Soul. 

Maka would like to say that no one could accuse her of being nosy, but the fact of the matter was that she’d been accused of such behavior more times than she could count on her fingers and toes combined. She was old enough now to accept it. So she peeled the plastic back.

NIGHT HEIST — Coming to Theaters November 12.

And there he was, face shadowed in the corner, but one hundred percent totally there.

Soul Evans. 

What…the fuck?

Maka’s hand reached back for her phone on the floor and gripped it tight in her fingers, her brain rapidly trying to recall how exactly she’d ended up spending the night with a fucking movie star without noticing she was spending the night with a fucking movie star.

[foreverfamilyforevervongola]

metanoia / lightning fluff?

When Tsuna first asked Levi to train Lambo in utilizing his Lightning Flames, Levi thought it was a poor attempt at a joke. When he realized the brunette was serious, he refused.

He wasn't a tutor. He wasn't going to waste his time training a brat who couldn't even make a spark by snapping his fingers.

As he turned to leave the apartment, ignoring Tsuna's disappointed frown, he caught a glimpse of hard, defiant eyes peeking at him from the hallway. He blinked and Lambo was gone, and Levi cared little for the boy having overheard his curt rejection.

But as the week went on, and the Varia's trip to Japan drawing to a close, Levi found himself considering Tsuna's request. He would never in his life forget the raw power Lambo's twenty-five-year-old self had soundly thrashed him with.

The thought of leaving such power latent and undiscovered disgusted Levi. There were few prominent and skilled Lightning Flame users in the Vongola family, and if he didn't agree to help Lambo, the kid would receive mediocre training at best.

But more than that, he couldn't rid himself of the image of those green eyes, blazing with resolve, as if Levi's rejection only fueled his determination.

It was unexpected of the boy who cried at the tiniest of slights.

On the second-to-last day of their trip, Xanxus made up Levi's mind for him.

"Effing go over there and tell Sawada you'll train his brat. If you keep pacing through this hotel with that stupid effing look on your face I'm going to kill you."

So Levi agreed to train Lambo, if only to see what the kid was truly made of, and if there was anything he could do for what he thought to be a rather hopeless case.

...

The first training session goes about as well as Levi expected.

Lambo struggled to perform under pressure, and grew easily frustrated by his lack of ability. When Levi only continued to insult and deride his pitiful attempts, Lambo responded by kicking the man in the shin and sprinting off the property in furious tears.

Levi, cursing viciously, pursued the boy. A million punishments ran through his mind, and he vowed to make Lambo endure all of them for his insolence.

The eight-year-old was fast, and for a brief moment, Levi lost sight of him once they reached the narrow streets of the nearby town. Levi prowled down alleys, simmering with fury, and he paused when a round of harsh jeers sounded from a few streets over.

"Hey, runt, what's the matter? Lost your mommy?"

"Look at him blubber! What a crybaby."

Aw, hell.

Levi sprinted towards the voices, and as he rounded the corner, he was blinded by a brilliant flash of green light. He was blown backwards, slamming into the cement.

When the lightning cleared, the small child was standing in front of four young men who were now fried to a crisp. Their hair was singed and most of it burnt off, and their clothes were smoldering and smoking. They were limp on the ground, still and unmoving.

Lambo turned slightly, his green eyes luminous and his lips twisted into a snarl. When he caught sight of Levi, regarding him with stunned awe, his temper cooled enough for him to realize what he had done.

"Did I kill them?" he asked fearfully.

"You didn't," said Levi, climbing to his feet. "And it wouldn't have mattered even if you did."

Lambo was stricken by that statement. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"I know," said Levi, and though he wanted to tell Lambo that the day would come where he would have to take a life, he knew it wasn't his place. "How the hell did you do that?"

"It happens when I get angry," said Lambo self-consciously. He eyed Levi warily. "Am I in trouble?"

"I oughta clock you one for kicking me." Levi scanned the scorched alley, the smoke sour in the air. "But I won't. This time. Come on."

Sparing one more glance for the unconscious men, Lambo scampered after Levi. "More training?" he asked in dismay.

"That's what you're here for, isn't it?" countered Levi.

"But I can't--"

"You obviously can," interrupted Levi. "If you need to get angry in order to release you're Lightning Flames, then make yourself angry."

"I guess I can try," said Lambo, though he looked dubious.

They returned to Varia Castle, where Levi promptly put Lambo to work. Closing his eyes, Lambo thought about the time Reborn wouldn't let him watch the series finale of his favourite show because he had fallen behind on his homework.

His Guardian Ring flared with green Flames, and he looked at Levi with a wide, delighted grin.

Levi felt a twinge in his heart, but he ignored it. "Only took you long enough," he said gruffly. "Let's see what else you got."

...

Perhaps it was because Levi saw a part of himself in Lambo. Maybe it was because Lambo was persistent with his affection, and it didn't take him long to get attached to the Lightning Varia. Maybe it was because Lambo's sass was as endearing as it was annoying.

In any case, Levi found himself growing fond of the boy, who wiggled his way into Levi's heart further and further over the years. Whenever Lambo was around, Levi was a little bit more relaxed, a little less snappy, and little more open to cuddling.

But he'd beat anyone who dared to mention it--besides Xanxus, of course, because he wasn't stupid.

[bellamyblake]

The ugly knitted red hat

That’s just some domestic Bellarke in the post season 4 verse where they have their own camp and are cute and sweet and all of that, basically fluff lol

After all these years, despite the peace, he still likes getting up early. 

There’s some pleasure in it for him as much as Clarke hates it, to sneak out of the warm cacoon of their bed and put on his socks, then his pants and tie his boots. 

He even tugs on the ugly red hat that she knitted for him a month ago when the weather was starting to get cold because she just hated running her fingers through his curls and touching the cold tips of his ears.

The hat was funny, had a weird shape, longer on the back and shorter on the front, she had attempted to make some funny criss cross pattern that O had tried teaching her when they had their “sister bonding time” by the camp fire but Clarke had proven to be a disaster in that as much as she was in the kitchen.

Still, it brought her peace, as she told him one night when he was pulling her head to his chest and kissing the top of her hair. It calmed her anxious hands, helped the tidal waves that thretened to consume her, quiet down. 

And he had been proud of her for doing that, he had encouraged it and praised all her attempts-the ugly red hat, the bright green sweater she made for his birthday that had a longer left than right sleeve and barely any collar, the blue and red scarf she made him to keep his throat warm while he was standing guard at night but that barely wrapped once around him.

He loved the imperfection of it all because that’s what they’ve always been-imperfect yet beautiful.

And just like she loved his poor carpenting attempts and kept the three legged chair by the fire place or the sharp-edge chest by the bedside even though they only-half used them, so did he wear his hat and sweater and scarf with pride.

(Miller had the most fun out of it. But even he knew he had to stop teasing his friend when Clarke came by and brought them hot tea or soup before their nightshift at the gates).

So now he tucks on his uneven red hat and throws his jacket on, grabbing his axe from the place by the door and heading outside.

Technically, he knows that he should’ve chopped more woods for the fire a few days ago-fall was progressing and fast, bringing rain and an orange-red leaved path of prettiness to the door of their cabin but with it came harsher winds and colder nights. 

Clarke had been pressing herself closer and closer to him every night at first, then started wearing not one but two of his shirts to bed and when last night she shoved her freezing fingers in between his legs, he had yelped, got up and said “That’s it! I’m starting the fire!”

They had been postponing it because there were such warm days that they spend them in the back yard taking care of the last of their tomatoes and beans with nothing but shirts and pants on, even barefoot here and there. 

The house and it’s wooden boards would warm up and stay so through the night but yesterday had been the tipping point and though Clarke complained and tried to drag him back down to bed, she had simply melted away once he started the fire yet despite it all she still stole the blanket and left his back bare and somewhat cold.

Which is why maybe now that he picks up his axe and swings at the tree he has figured he’d chop off, he feels his back creak desperately and tug at him, making him hurt.

He ignores it of course as he’s used to the pain. 

They’ve had so many injuries in just the past year since they settled down in their eighty acres-he broke a knee just a few months ago, Clarke split her head open last spring, then caught a bad cold with a lasting cough, after which he was stupid enough to go after an angry boar that practically ripped his entire right side apart and left him drowning in a pool of blood.

But every pain dulled, he found out, no matter if physical or emotional. 

It took time, it took many tears and many heart breaks and many trembling hands holding each other at night when you woke up screaming and your voice got raw with terror and you could taste death but it passed...and it got duller.

It still hurt.

But it became a part of you, like a bone, like a scar or a bruise that never really faded and kept aching now and then with the changing of the weather.

He gets lost in his thoughts as he puts all his strenght in cutting off the tree-sweat thickles down his back and he throws away his jacket despite the harsh morning wind and the lack of sun. 

Clarke would kill him if she saw him, he thinks. It’s a good thing she’s home then, sleeping under the covers.

He stops to catch his breath, leans on his tired knees and the axe-damn, there may be some truth to all of Clarke’s jokes-he was indeed getting older.

He closes his eyes and lets the sharp morning air fill his lungs so hard it stung his cheeks, made the hair on his back rise, his toes curl up-he liked the cold much more than the summer and he was glad it was finally back.

Once his heart goes back to normal he looks up at the sky for just a minute and thinks of his mother for some reason, wonders if she’d like that weather and decides that she will-she was used to the cold of their small living quarters and welcomed it like an old friend she got to say hello to every morning.

He picks up his axe and goes on with his work, using the time to go over the list of friends they’ve lost and asking himself that same question-would they like it out here? In the forest? In their new camp? In the gloomy fall day?

Jasper, he settles, wouldn’t be a big fan of it, he was too skinny so he’d be too cold and Bellamy would probably use Clarke’s ugly scarf to throw over his wanky shoulders.

Maya would enjoy it. She’d never spend much time out so he thinks she’d like the sharpness of the cold as much as he does.

Lincoln may prefer the summer, he thinks, he often did like going around without shirts or shoes, just feeling the earth under him so the chilliness may not be to his taste but he’d probably enjoy the camp fire and even volunteer to help Bellamy with the wood chopping.

They could’ve talked like brothers, Bellamy could’ve exchanged a mythology story for a grounder one and then they’d be stupid boys and compete about who’d carry more wood back home just to be idiots about something and get scolded by Octavia and Clarke.

He sighs, rubs his back that’s now completely wet and keeps on his work, going through his list-Atom, Charlotte, Roma and on and on, names he knew by heart now that he repeated in times of quiet peacefullness like this.

Finally the tree falls and he kneels on his bad leg resting his hand on top and whispering a quiet I’m sorry like he always did when he cut off a tree or killed an animal these days. 

He still smiled sadly and rubbed his hand over the creasy bark. 

“I knew you’d have taken it off, you stubborn old man!” he hears her angry yet still somewhat sleepy voice coming from behind him interrupting his apology.

He turns with a half smirk, knowing full well that a big one would piss her off even more.

She’s in her oversized home-worn sweat pants that were once upon a time his, a shirt and a sweater knitted by his sister with the picture of a two headed deer. 

Her hair is in a messy bun, she has just one glove on her left hand and two cups of something in the other, her cheeks are red from the mix of cold and sleep and her eyes are that deep celurian blue like the ocean that he still hasn’t gotten to see yet but dreams of at least once a week.

And he has this sudden urge to kiss her.

So he drops his axe and strides to her while she keeps on with her speech.

“Do you know how cold it is, Bellamy? Let me tell you, it’s effing keep-your-jacket-on-cold especially when you’re chopping a goddamn tree and sweating your ass off and you go out there and you dare take it off when you know full damn well how sick you can get if you-”

But she doesn’t end her beautiful rant that he knows is provoked by simple love-she loves him and she cares and this is just another way of her saying it like he did when he massaged her feet after a long day in medbay or made her tea every night before bed or helped her braid her hair when she was annoyed but had too much patients to take care of.

All of it was love.

They were love.

He kisses her with all that he has and for a moment he thinks she’ll just pull away and keep scolding him but it must be too much for her to resist because she simply kisses him back and melts into him.

He smells her-in all her sleepy Clarke glory-her lavender shampoo, the pinecone soap, the bearness of sleep on her lips and cheeks. 

Her fingers wrap around his neck, tuck at his curls, he smiles a little, groans somewhat but then picks her up which he knows is what she’s been wanting all along and carries them to the fallen tree where he carefully sits them down.

Finally, she pulls away and rests her forehead on his.

“If you think this will work as a distraction you’re goddamn wrong!”

He chuckles and she can’t help but smile too.

“I am a little right.”

“No, you’re not.” she huffs and pulls away, cupping his cheek and moving his sweaty curls from his forehead under his red hat. “You took off your jacket but kept this on?”

He wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls it to his lips, kissing the inside of it with gentleness she still gets surprised by sometimes.

“I’ll always keep it on.”

And she knows he doesn’t mean just the hat. 

He means her love in his heart, her hand on his cheek, her lips pressed to his.

“Well you’re still an idiot-” she huffs and puts the cups by their feet before reaching for his jacket “Put this on before your ass froze.”

“What’s that?” he nods at the metalic cups while she settles down next to him and leans on his side, reaching down to pick them back up and hand one of them to his freezing fingers.

“A drink.” she says with a smile “I think we deserve one, wouldn’t you agree?”

He smells the familiar scent of Monty’s moonshine before he even brings it closer to his nose and laughs at her mishivious expression.

Then he reaches and covers her hand with his over his tired fucked up knee.

“We do, princess.” he rubs his thumb over her bony cold fingers desperate to wamr them up “We truly do.”

[jennsmischievousmind]

Fucks not Found

Florence

Ch1 Ghosts | Ch2 Florence | Ch3 A Matter of Seconds | Ch4 I need a Backdoor | Ch5 Die Hard | Ch6 White Flag | Ch7 Haunt the Living | Ch8 One, but not done [end]

Who had this fucking idea?

One had refused that you got out the truck since Italy was were you lived. Apparently for Six it was okay, since he was in the car moving at 160per hour. That’s how you ended up in that stupid espresso truck Three had rented. Feet on the dash, trying to concentrate on your laptop, unfortunately Three was trying to learn Italian next to you.

“I’m gonna kill him!” You said through greeted teeth, he was shamelessly butchering your mother tongue.

“Be nice Eight.” Five chuckled over the comm. The mission was going smoothly at first, exchanging jokes with Six, Four sending pictures on the group chat from his view up there. 

Eventually everything went south real quick. It distracted you from the urge to shoot at Three.

“You hit one more person and I’m walking?” you heard Five in the comm link, your eyes widened.

“You’ve hit someone?!” you yelled at Six. 

“Grazed him really ..” he tried to convince you

“Totally smashed him, One added, 10/10!”

“Imbecille!” your Italian resurfacing when in stress.

Four scoffed in the comm link "How come she can speak Italian and you cannot?

"She's always been the better twin" Six hissed avoiding another walker

“Definitely.” Four answered in a hushed tone.  

Brushing away Four’s comment you got impatient "One, I need access to that phone!"

One growled  "Bossy, ever so bossy!"

“What did you guys do in there? Why are you covered in blood?” Six inquired, you could hear the disgust in his voice, between cursed and screeching tires, as obviously they were chased by the lawyer’s own TAC team. 

“ The head, neck, and face are very, very vascular. So it’s a lot of blood.” One vaguely tried to explain.

“Oh Eight I think they kill a mafia guy in Italy! You pressed your temples at your brother’s words. 

The lawyer’s phone needed facial recognition more specifically retina recognition… so naturally Two scooped his eye out. What a first mission!

“One for Four?”

“Yeah, go for Four.”

“ We need you.”

“ Of course you need me. I’m here.”

“Remind me, where the fuck is here?” 

“ Here here. Like, here?” Four continued, his evasive answers made you grin.

“Specificity.” One added

“ Here. Right effing here! Top of the Duomo, like we talked about. Look up. Where you going?”

“In the wrong direction. Please help them.” You sighed, Three spun his revolver your way.

“Get that thing away from my face Three!” he grimaced returning to his book

“Oh shit, coming down! Four announced… Coming up North, down on Via de ..via de ..there’s so many fucking vias in Italy!  

“Via De Cerretani.” you cleared

“Yeah, yeah” he sighed annoyed

At some point you momentarily removed your earpiece since your brother was screaming and cursing. Mammà would disapprove.

“You gotta lose that police chopper!” Four was perched on the Sagrestia Vecchia following the Alpha Romeo through Florence’s alleys.

You hacked the chopper on board cam “I have eyes, I’ll tell you when they lose you.”

“dov'è il bagno? …. dov'è il baaagno?..” Three repeated 3 TIMES, you glanced at him really annoyed, fingers itching to unsheathed.

“Buongiorno Uno” he answered at the sizzling talkie.

“Shit’s gone, we’re supper fucked, Four needs an Uber!”

“Way ahead of you, papi!” a loud bang coming from above the truck startled you.

“Buongiorno Quattro” Three started the truck.

His accent really made you cringe. Removing your feet from the dash you dip your head catching a glimpse of Four on the top on the truck.

After a few seconds, he got down and squeezed himself by the passenger window, you scout next to Three with a huff.

Gunshots, and cussing resonated in the comm link.Unconsciously biting your thumbnail, you kew your brother was a good driver but it was stressful. Four leaned in watching the chopper cam on your laptop. His blond hair falling into his eyes, you spotted brown flakes in the emerald green of his eyes. He was so close you thought your heartbeat had sync with his because you felt like adrenaline had rush in.

For a second you locked eyes, he smirked at you, immediately self aware of your agape state you nudge him away from your laptop. One was screaming at everyone in the car, Two was screaming back at him, her French accent even more pronounced. Five lost it in Spanish against Six and One. 

“Ok, the chopper lost sight on you, make the best of it little bro.”

All of sudden “Wannabe” blasted into your ear, you chuckled at your brother’s music taste, until Three announced two black suburban were tailing the green Guila Quadrifoglio. Four reloaded the grenade launcher, you eyed him apprehensive, he just smiled at you like a kid on Christmas day.

“Six fake ‘em out mate, I’m coming to you!” reaching for his skateboard behind you.

Few explosions later you urged them to make in on time at the rendez-vous point.

“You got a superhero on the squad!!” your brother praised Four, these two really got along real quick.

Focused on your next escape route aka arguing in Italian on the phone with the docker you didn’t hear the commotion in the car, the tires screeching, shattering glass.

“Whoa, shit!” Six screamed.

You gasped, feeling something was wrong, a deep pain in your chest you couldn’t explain, furrowing your brows you breathe in trying to chase it away, thinking it was the adrenaline rushing out.

Three stopped the truck at the construction site where you had to meet, him and Four got out gun’s at point.

You got out the truck a second later, your own gun in hand, still feeling weird “Ok let’s get the fuck out of my mother land bef..” you freezed, your eyes landing on the green car.

A deafening silence invaded your ears, the sound of you gun hitting the concrete resonating until your brain caught up, you understood the sudden unknown feeling. 

“NOOOOOO” you cried out running to him, feet skidding on the debris. “Come on baby brother, no, no, no, no” you cradled his face in your shaking hands, your vision blurry with tears, you pushed your forehead onto his, hands bloodied. “please, please” you begged sobbing, murmuring prayers.

 He was gone. You were unable to feel his presence, unable to feel his emotions through that unique bond twins have, you felt lost, incomplete.

 The harbor was the final way out, no one said a word as Four and One put Six in a transparent body bag.

The boat drifting away, Three came out with a bottle of booze and some pizzas, like, the fuck man pizzas right now? You denied the drink, if you were to drink you knew you were not going to stop until you black out. You sat on the edge of the stern, eyes glossy a blank expression on your face. One stood by your side, his behavior cold but uneasy.

“Here’s a toast to a kid I liked.” Three lift his glass

“Are you crying?” Two mocked him

“We didn’t even know his name.”

“We don’t know any names.”

“What was his name?” You didn’t want to say his name, you didn’t want to burst in tears just by saying his name. 

“It doesn’t matter. He was a good man.”

You didn’t expect One to say that, yes he was but in the end what did he knew about your brother.

“I thought I managed the risk. I’m sorry.” One softly concluded not looking at you

“Did you guys had anyone else...family?”

“I think you’re looking at it.” Two told her nodded your way cautiously

They all look at you gravely, please stop you screamed internally; I don’t need your pity, I need my brother.

“Risposa in Pace Fratellino” you whispered as they toss his body into the unforgiving Adriatic Sea. Here you were, the only one left of the Y/L/N family.

After giving One the last update on the phone they’d got, you went to the cabin, to steal a moment alone, cry without a bunch of strangers around. But you bumped into Four.

“Hey ..” he hesitate, searching his pocket he lifted his hand, showing the Cross necklace Six had attached to his stir.

Four didn’t know how much this cross meant to your family, and that did it, bawling you let all your sorrow out clutching at the cross.

Tears you hadn’t shed for your parents, as you try to be tough for your mother when papà disappeared, and then for your brother when mammà died. And now for him.

Carefully Four wraps his arm around your frame, offering some warmth and comfort. Something you thought you had definitely lost an hour ago. Muffling your cries in his white sweater, he held you tighter as he too felt his pain, you heard him exhale and breathe in trying to contain his own tears.

After that it was not the same with Four. Two said once that you did what she called a “transfer”. Meaning you were treating Four as your little brother, but it was definitely not like that, it was something else. Something One had prohibit.

Back at the Haunted House in the California desert, you hadn’t slept all the way ‘home’, you busied yourself packing Six stuff and bring them back in your trailer.

One was standing in the cargo plane, in front of the metal storage cabinet, in which each one of us had to store personal effects, will, things like that, if you happened to die.

He handed you Six’s key.

“Hold on to it, will you? he furrowed his eyebrows retrieving his hand, When that mission is over, I’ll open it. Well if I’m still here.”

He nodded understanding.

“I brought him into this, ...”

“… He said there was nothing he’d rather be doing with his life. That prick.” One was oddly compassionate

You shook your head trying to hold back tears, if you hadn’t hack that asshole back in your hometown, your brother wouldn’t be dead. Two’s French saying was in loop in your head, “Avec des si, on mettrait Paris en bouteille” “With Ifs, we could put Paris in a bottle.” but your guilt was still there, hanging tight.  

 Wally’s head on your thighs you couldn’t care less about his drool staining your jean, watching the nightfall on the California desert, the scolding sun giving place to the starry night, the sky virgin of light pollution you could see so much of the vault. Wally barked scaring you and made his way inside. “Ok big guy, good night.”

Passing by the empty pool you sat on one of the old lounge chairs, when you arrived it became your hangout with your brother and Four, even though it was mostly Four’s area. 

Sometimes Five would pass by on her way to the “gym cargo” as they called it. Four would settle on the edge of the bowl, while you lean on a lounge chair, your brother in the bowl tossing a tennis ball to each of you, tonight was the exception, your brother was not here, tears were, only Four didn’t stay on his side. 

He didn’t ask anything, he squished himself between you and the armrest. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, face again his chest you sobbed. Being held by him was foreign at first, only used to your brother’s hugs since you’d left your hometown. As he brushed away your hair from your wet face, you looked at him, his mouth slightly opened, brows furrowed slightly, your hand reached for the crease between it, easing it with the pad of your index, his gaze locking with yours at your gesture. His hand brushed a last strand away, burying itself in your hair. He kissed the same spot on you, lingering, nose nudging his sharp jaw, his breath grazed your cheek. Lips hovering each other’s, there was a flash of hesitation that crossed his features, your lips closed on his before you could think. He tightened his grip on your waist, bringing you closer, your cold fingers brushing his cheek. Suddenly shame struck you.

Jerking away from him, stumbling on your two feet, you pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes. Kissing Four while mourning for your brother felt so wrong.  

“Eight..wh ?”

You cut him “If this is coming out of some misplaced sense of guilt, don’t bother.”

He opened and closed his mouth “What the.., you kissed me Eight ..!”

“I .., your voice wavered, I’m not myself right now… “ You had kissed him first, what were you trying to say, yeah he kissed back but argh the fuck was happening in your head. Avoiding his pained look you turned around, fleeing the situation.

“It’s not, just so you know, some misplaced guilt.” he watched you disappear into the night, your trailer alight few meters away.

Third chapter - A Matter of Seconds 

A/N: don’t forget to double tap if you liked it. 🙏

[rosesnink]

We Fell In Love In December (Hayley x Ernest)

A/N: This is inspired in an ask from my dear friend @princess-geek​ where she asks who said ‘I love you’ first and it gave me a whole idea. 

Summary: Hayley and Ernest spend Christmas together and in the cold, snowy winter in the countryside, their walls melt away with the warmth of the house. 

TW: A small mention of psychological abuse, kissing is a bit heated. 

Rating: T 

It was a December night. Inside Ledford Park manor, you could find Ernest Sinclaire pacing around like a caged lion, stressing over tonight’s dinner. It was the 25th of December and it’d be his second Christmas with Hayley, though it’d be the first one they would be on their own.

This first year of relationship had been a magical one, and it made him realise how much he wanted Hayley in his life, but he feared he might scare her away.

Hayley was a delightful girlfriend and, in her own language, she told him how much she cared for him, but those three words were something Hayley and him never had good experiences with, so they were both fearful of saying it. That’s why they told each other they loved each other in another languages.

He looked outside the big window of the lower floor, the landscape of the English countryside now familiar to him. He checked with the cook: everything was set. This year, Hayley was nostalgic of the Spanish Christmas, so he asked around to see how it was celebrated and arranged the cosiest, most lavish Christmas dinner for them both. He had asked Hayley’s uni friend about her favourite dishes, coming to this conclusion: two entire plates of croquettes, Spanish omelette, duck pate, shellfish –among them squid, prawns and crabs—Spanish ham, Spanish cheese and her favourite wine alongside cider. Yes, everything was ready.

Knock knock

There she was. He opened the door and he was sure his jaw met the floor; she looked beautiful, flawless even. She smiled at him before greeting him with a kiss on each cheek. He cleared his throat, tucking her in with the snow outside “I trust you weren’t so cold on your way here?” He asked, ever so polite.

“Indeed, though I’m quite used to it.” She took off her gloves and coat to reveal a red suit off shoulders and her lips couldn’t be any redder tonight. He could smell her delicious perfume a mile away, the essence of pink sands, he believed, making his brain fuzzy. He cleared his throat as he offered her a cup of cider “To our first Christmas alone.”

He didn’t know if it was on purpose, but she drank the wine as if she wanted to be observed, especially her lips and took it as a chance to be closer to him. He could feel his ears pink and he knew she’d noticed.

“So, what do we got for dinner?”

“I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

She followed him and gawked when she saw the whole table. She chuckled before kissing his entire face, making him smile widely, now noticing that even her lipstick smelled well. He felt her hair’s familiar essence, a probably expensive shampoo and mint, invading his nostrils. He allowed himself to melt for a moment in her arms, holding her hips as he observed closer her features: same green eyes, same nose now powdered with highlighter, a beaming smile “Ernest, this is so sweet, you didn’t have to!”

He begged her closer as he whispered in her ear, making her hum by the delightful closeness “I know, but I wanted to. I am aware of how much you missed Madrid.”

She held his face in her rather small hands before kissing him for a few seconds, tasting the lipstick: cherry, reminding him of the summer afternoons tasting all fruits in the garden, hidden of his grandmother, who would later scold him. She was about to break the kiss when he deepened it, not ready to let go of her yet. That drew a small teasing smile of her, enjoying the fine silk of her outfit in his palms, making circles on her back.

“As much as I enjoy this,” she said between kisses “I’m famished and craving to eat all of those croquettes while drinking that wine.”

He finally let go of her before sitting on the table arranged for the two of them with forget-me-not’s, red roses and Christmas flowers arranged for pure décor. She was about to eat one when she fed him one instead “Hm, I see why you like Spanish food so much.” It tasted like meat, a bit of oil and cream, all melting into his mouth. He also tried the pate and he liked it. After the dishes, Hayley smiled:

“While this isn’t as nearly good as Miss Paula’s dishes, I can see your cook poured all of her efforts and love into these dishes. What else is there for dinner?”

“Chicken, some lasagne and Italian potatoes and a bit of Caesar’s salad.”

“No dessert? Or sweets?”

He flushed “I… didn’t know that in Spain you ate so much.”

Instead of complaining, she smiled “We can always bake them ourselves!”

“…Really? Especially with my numb knowledge in the kitchen? Madam Bridge shall have my guts if I hurt her precious tools.”

“Lucky for you, I took cooking lessons when I lived on my own in Spain, to at least avoid starvation.”

She took his hand and made the puppy eyed dog he couldn’t just deny. He sighed, accepting her challenge before following her to the kitchens, both giggling before he kissed the top of her head, inhaling her essence one more time.

“What shall we bake tonight, Chef?”

“Bizcocho, also known as sponge cake.”

She got free of his stronghold before searching of the needed tools, including the Thermomix. There was flour, eggs, sugar, oranges, yeast, chocolate, a bit of yoghurts, milk and a few cooking tools “Come here, don’t be shy!”

He approached her and she gave him the cold eggs as she started to toss the flour, yoghurt, sugar and milk “What do you want me to do with these?”

“Obviously break them and toss them in here! It won’t bite you.” She teased.

“…Don’t laugh, but I’ve never broken an egg before.”

She tried to hold her laugh, but it was too late. She was giggling, looking at him in disbelief and laughing even harder when she saw he was glaring at her “Let me get this straight… you can hold a massive fortune, speak some languages, sing, endure old men, swim and hold together your company… but you don’t know how to break an effing egg?!” She broke into laughter again, a single tear dropping off her eye as she reddened. He wanted to remain annoyed at her, but she looked so adorable…

He shook his head “Are you quite done laughing at me?”

Her laughter stopped as she nodded, now her cheeks red of laughing, looking extremely adorable. He sighed loudly, kissing her hands “Not so mad now, are we, Sinclaire?”

“You make it impossible, looking so beautiful.”

She took his hands and grabbed one egg, showing him how to break it. A few taps until she heard a small crash, then her fingers dig into the most broken part and with skill and a flourish of her hands, the egg fell perfectly on the Thermomix “Now you, just follow my lead.”

He did, his hands a bit shaky, wanting to impress her. He felt her hands on his as she guided him and the egg fell, a small drop breaking the circumference. He pouted, a bit disappointed, but Hayley kissed his cheek “We’re going to destroy them anyway, we’re baking a sponge cake, not frying eggs.” She assured him. He leaned on her touch before she told him to grab two of the yoghurts and empty them in the Thermomix and leave the container empty so they could give it a few uses. She grabbed the oil, impressing Ernest of how she knew where was everything “Your mother insisted on giving me a tour when we started dating and stayed here for the weekend, so I took the liberty to memorize everything.”

“That’s… very thoughtful of you. No one’s ever bothered before.”

“Well, I am not just anyone, Ernest. I’m your girlfriend. Besides, it’s unfair that you know every inch of my house and I don’t!”

He chuckled before begging her closer. He lifted her up, making her squeak of surprise before laughing, placing her on the counter and kiss her again, now trapping her in his firm arms. She giggled in his lips, making him laugh a bit as she squealed, trying to get him off “Ernest, we have a pending cake!” She laughed “Get off or I’ll make you!”

“Mmm, five more minutes.” He mused before kissing her again, now his head dipping in her neck, inhaling her perfume before nibble at the skin, making her gasp.

“Ernest…”

“Yes?”

He noticed her smirk “…I’ll have to make you then.” He stopped on his tracks before she made some kind of manoeuvre that sent them both to the floor, making him gasp of surprise as he noticed she was at the top of him “I warned you.”

He let out a surprised chuckle before shaking his head “I should have foretold this.”

“Oh yeah?” She teased.

“Though being in this position is tempting,” he signalled Hayley atop him “and you are, indeed, a sight in these clothes, we must continue our baking.”

Hayley chuckled “You are right, darling. Besides… the night is young and so are we.”

She got up, leaving Ernest flushed for a second before he got up and cleared his throat, trying to think about the delicious cake instead of the beautiful baker. They kept baking, laughing at each other’s jokes and Ernest even told her some stories of his mother and him in the kitchen, cooking biscuits and even pranking his father.

When the cake was placed in the oven, Hayley pulled her boyfriend closer to her, kissing the tip of his nose, making him wrinkle his nose followed by a chuckle. He grabbed her low hips and dipped his head to kiss her, not minding much everything else. Hayley wasn’t very short –she was 5’7 feet tall—but with Ernest being 6’9 feet tall, even she had to get on her tiptoes to kiss him better. Briar even teased her, calling her a squirrel.

She grabbed the lapels of his shirt, making him chuckle against her lips before he took the hint and grabbed her, his hands on the back of her legs, placing her in the counter, never breaking the kiss. She giggled before kissing him back, his pillowed lips against her cherry ones, his mind feeling cloudy and fuzzy, his only thought her, forget about the damn cake!

With his voice hoarse, he whispered in her ear “Have I told you yet how beautiful you look? Especially with that off shoulders detail.” He proceeded to kiss the spot between her neck and shoulders, feeling how she shivered at his touch.

“Mm, you may have forgotten it.”

“I really should make it up to you.”

He begged her closer still, making her gasp, kissing her now hungrily and with yearning, his breath ragged as he grabbed her hips with a firm grip, making her gasp before biting his lip, making him shudder, his heart racing too fast. She only needed to say four words and he’d be all hers for the rest of the evening.

His fingers teased the zip of her suit “Shall we… you know, go upstairs?” He whispered, biting her earlobe.

However, he could feel how she tensed, now rather anxious. Observing her for years did that.

“Uh, not today, sorry—Not that I do not want to do it with you, I do, I really, really do, but—it’s not the right time for me right now.” She bit her lip and looked away, to a spot, like she was ready for a reprimand.

His shoulders softened as he stroked her cheek and made her look at him. Her eyes were glassy, full of guilt and something he thought he’d never see: fear.

“You do not need to explain yourself to me, or apologize for having boundaries. Ever. If you do not wish to do it now, we won’t. Because I love you, I will wait.” He cupped her face in his rather large hands “I know, it’s too soon, and you don’t need to say it back yet. I’ve waited for you to see me as your romantic equal for 12 years, I can wait a while longer. Because my love for you is timeless. The more time I spend with you the more I love everything of you, especially the worst parts.” She started crying silently, a big smile all over her face “I don’t know your story, and I don’t need to know if that isn’t your will. You owe me nothing and…” he inhaled, his heart racing “it is no secret to anyone that you’ve got me pegged from the start, like the moon to the sun, always following that light of yours that shines through all of this darkness. You made me a better man, Hayley, and it’d be disrespectful to you and everything you are to harm you in any kind of form.”

She hugged him, so tightly, and he returned it, tighter even, as a silent form of way to show her that he meant what he said with all of his heart and to reassure her that she’d be safe with him. He kissed the top of her head, her forehead, her nose, her eyes, her hands. She looked at him with need, not in a sexual one, but in a tender one “Say it again. Say that you love me again.”

“I love you, Hayley Jane Parker. I love you.”

“Ernest… don’t stop saying it. Never stop saying it.”

He gazed at her like the most beautiful thing on earth, like she was worth loving “I love you.” He kissed her left cheek “I love you.” He kissed then her right “I love you.” He kissed her wrist “I love you.” He kissed the back of her hand “I love you.” He kissed the tip of her nose “I love you.” He kissed her lips, whispering against her lips “I love you.”

They kissed again, slowly this time, his hands on her back, whispering every time he could those three words she thought no one would ever say genuinely.

All her life, most men tried to get at her pants because of her past she never asked to have, calling her an easy woman to get laid with, a free whore, a cold slut who was uncapable of love and being loved, too difficult and needy. She still remembered how that idiot whose name she promised herself to never say again yelled at her that not even her own father was capable of loving her and being there for her, who else would?

But he was proven wrong. When she escaped that hell, she broke before her father’s feet and he told her how much he loved her, how important he was to her.

And now there she was, in the arms of a man she loved for too long, telling her nonstop that he loved her. He gathered her into his arms and carried her with tender care and pure, genuine love to his bedroom, laying her on the bed as he covered her entire face in kisses and simply loving her. He lay beside her, nestling her into his arms and kissed her again tenderly.

“This is the best Christmas I ever had. I do not want it to end…”

She chuckled, wrinkling her nose. Then, a smell came to her. She got up and snuffled to then gasp.

“The cake! Ernest, downstairs!” She raced downstairs to take off quickly the now severely burnt cake of the oven and the oven spilled dark smoke, making her cough. Ernest quickly turned off the fire, looking dishevelled.

“My god…”

They stood there for minutes before she laughed, her hands on her knees as she laughed even harder, making him laugh, now the both of them laughing together, leaning on each other as they laughed so hard that Hayley was crying of laughter.

“My cook will have my head for this.”

“And I just disgraced poor Miss Paula.”

They laughed again, hugging each other before retiring for the rest of the evening. Of course, what wasn’t eaten would be given to people who’d donate this to the people who needed it more than them.

They slept together, on the same bed, refusing to let the other go. Hayley woke up with the sound of clashes and whooshes. She saw him, his hair messy and dishevelled, with one white transparent shirt and grey sweatpants, reading a book while he took his tea.

Hayley approached him slowly and took the tome from him, kissing him. He was startled, but kissed her back anyways.

“Hayley…?”

“I love you too, Ernest. I always have.”

His eyes lit with adoration and incredibility “Truly.”

She took his hand and placed it on her chest, right where her heart was beating rather fast “I do. I love you.”

He smiled, filled with joy as he kissed her, the fire stroking them both as his hands dipped to her hips as the snow poured slowly and elegantly, making the perfect scenery as these two lovers melted in each other.

[grumpy-gay-gardener]

Like many people, I was dismayed at the finale of Supernatural. Quite frankly, the last two episodes felt quite off from everything else. 15x20 was just awful.

I felt weird when the beginning of the episode wasted time with the cheesy montage of the fluffy domestic crap. I was thinking, they’re wasting an awful lot of time with this filler for a show finale. Showing Jared jogging with very PNW scenery was annoying. ( sorry but it felt like Jared and not Sam)

The we get the vamp mimes. They joke about falls flat and their dialog was just off, disconnected. It felt forced. Then we get a terrible ans awkward fight scene. It felt as wooden as that death trap of a barn. Jenny?! Why tf do we get a reappearance of someone so unimportant? My guess is she was local and available.

Then there’s deans death by improbably placed rebar, aka the rusty nail. Are you effing kidding me? Early on in the episode. I didn’t see it coming but it was a trash bag surprise. What a horrible, disrespectful slap in the face to Dean and the fans. Dean became the last cruel sacrifice for man pain.

Dean gets to heaven and we get Bobby explaining that heaven was improved by Jack an Cas. Casual vague mention of Cas and that’s that. No addressing anything else or letting Dean express any feelings etc. They silenced Dean and sent him for heavenly drive. At that point, I was just feeling done. I found my self checking the clock counting down when it would end.

Sam’s aging montage was a pile of vapid, insulting crap. Lousy make up and dime store wig and all. It felt completely unbelievable. Zero emotional investment. His toddler kid, teen kid and adult son looked nothing alike. Again I’m guessing available was the only criteria for those filler placements. I felt even more chested that we get not a single mention of Eileen. Instead we get literally nofaced background wife. Incredibly misogynistic as usual.

Then we get the vapid and clumsy reunion in heaven.

That was no love letter to the fans. That was a colossal middle finger to the fans. They gave us 15x18 just so they could then crap all over us.

I’ve had a bad feeling for a while that they’d pull something like this. I’ve long worried that the TPTB would not take any empathetic consideration to substantial fan base that relied on this show as an emotional support foundation. Over the years, the cast and fandom have been vocal and actively supported mental health issues. This finale is giant eff you to that. It seems especially cruel and vicious in light of AKF, SPNFamily, You’re not Alone, Family Don’t End With Blood etc. They threw it all out the goddamn window for a message promoting that death is the path to peace and happiness. How horrible is it to promote such terrible and dangerous ideas to a sensitive fan base that had been welcomed previously with what seemed to be empathy to mental health issues. They have to know they had this unique fan base and have openly nurtured it. I have long worried that they would not take into account this unique set of circumstances when they ended the show. I believe it’s called depraved indifference and it just sucks. TBH, the extended break because of Covid allowed me to disconnect from the show emotionally so I had a barrier of sorts going into the final episodes. It all seems like such a waste. I agree with some other analysis that thinks it’s partly network greed and shortsightedness. I remember some bigwig CW executive blathering on about how it’s just about the brothers etc. I was concerned about that influence then. Honestly, part of this finale felt like a gaslight promotion of Jared’s upcoming Walker Texas Ranger show. The weird shirtless scene that seemed awkwardly gratuitous and completely out of place bugged me. It felt like a promotional thing for Jared. So too did the jogging scene, his aging montage as well as the shorter hair cut reveal. May we present to you her future Walker Texas Ranger. I got a targeted promotion for the new show in the day of the finale. I think the execs thought they’d just easily role Supernatural fans into the new show and I think they’re going to be sorely mistaken. They pissed a lot of potential viewers of with this shitshow finale. TBH, it doesn’t surprise me but it’s still profoundly disappointing. I feel bad for all the hurt and betrayed fans. This show helped motivate me to get treatment for my depression and anxiety and I’m grateful for that. I just think it is cruel many other fens that counted on this show, SPNFAMILY and the cast with the support for mental health. In the end, all that matters to the network is money and I vindictively hope this depraved indifference they’ve committed costs CW dearly. I know I’ll never be able to trust that network again. In reality, the other fans and the community helped me love the show and the characters more than the actual show ever did. Nothing can take that away but I’m sad that the show will have ended with such a garbage end destroying its legacy. I’ll be sticking to reading for a long time before I can ever emotionally invest myself in a TV show again.

[fracturedmotivationwriting]

we summoned... a pizza delivery guy

Datura looked wistfully at the (rather cute) behind of their new demon friend as he followed after Prometheus and Pollux. The shapeshifting, gender fluid was definitely attractive -- both as a man and a woman. Her musings on what other forms the demon could take were cut short by Grisha's irritating voice. 

"Well, you heard Prom, we have to clean this mess up," Grisha called out to Datura, fixing her with an expectant look. The kind of look that screamed 'I'm in charge, so you do it.' The look that drove Datura crazy. 

Forcing a sickeningly sweet smile upon her face, Datura turned her full attention to the weak warlock. Time to try and feed his ego just enough to distract him. She let out a breathy laugh. 

"Oh, Grish, I would love to stay and help clean all this up, but I can't," she pretended to pout, already gathering her candles into a box. "Besides, since you're such a better cleaner than I am. I mean, if I tried to clean this up, the humans would grow suspicious -- what with remnants of the pentagram, and I'd probably forget a crystal or two. And since you're so much better than me, you could probably clean this place up real quick with a little spell. So I've gotta run, but you have fun!" 

Grisha was about to protest, but Datura was already well on her way out the door. His magic skills weren't enough to stop her, so short of physically restraining her there was nothing he could do. And honestly, given how drained he was from the summoning, Datura could have taken him. (Well, she maybe could have taken him before the spell too). 

*******************

It'd been a long time since Mormo had stepped foot on Earth. Last time he roamed the world, he was assisting other demons in the development of the Black Plague. To say it'd been a while was an understatement. 

And boy, did he miss it. 

Granted, he expected much more fanfare when he returned. He always expected a large coven of the world's most powerful witches, only true followers of Hectate, to be the ones to summon him back. He was a little disappointed with the sight that befell him when he stepped out of the fire and brimstone. 

Four measly little witches. Still in their twenties. Practically babies compared to the high priestesses he used to surround himself with. Not only that, but they couldn't have even been that powerful. One of them fell to his knees. And not in reverence and admiration to the great demon before him! He was simply that weak of a warlock. 

Mormo was almost offended. 

He rationalized that his restraints in Hell must have grown weakened over the many, many years. Other witches had surely tried to summon him, loosening the chains so-to-speak for the children who had broken the last link. 

At least they were attractive. And much more open about their sexuality. 

"So, thanks for pulling me out of hell and all that," Mormo murmured, sidling up closer to the young female he presumed to be the high priestess. She was the one giving orders back there, anyway. 

He noticed her boyfriend's grip on her hand tightened as he got closer. 

"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything," he continued, flashing a charming grin at the girl, Prometheus. "But, uh, why exactly did your little coven summon me?" 

Prom smirked back at him. Mormo could see the balance of chaos and genius in her eyes. A dangerous combination, especially in such a young witch. A combination that (excuse the pun) brewed reckless ambition, which always inevitably led to tragedy. Mormo didn't know what she had planned, but he was already excited to see the destruction and downfall that would come with it. 

"We'll discuss that later," she assured him, as the trio entered an apartment. "But first, we need to clarify a few things." 

Mormo raised an eyebrow in question. 

"Your story," Pollux piped up, earning a confused look from the demon. 

"You all summoned me and you don't know my story?" Mormo was definitely offended now. Were these kids even trying to summon him? Or just any old demon? 

"Your fake story to tell the humans," Prom clarified. This earned even more confusion. 

"Until we can use your powers for Prom's plan, we need to keep you with us. Unfortuantely, that means you're going to be staying with us at our apartment. You're also going to have to blend in with the other college students." 

Mormo was starting to regret leaving hell. 

"You're going to need a more... human name? Mormo is nice and all, but it would raise too many questions. Obviously, we're going to tell everyone you're a transfer student, but we need to figure out what your backstory is. Where did you come from? Why move here? What's your major? How do Pol and I know you?" Prom continued off her boyfriend's explanation. 

"Woah, woah, woah. Wait!" Mormo interjected, holding his hands up. "I have to actually go to school? You summoned me out of hell, and now you want me to attend college classes with you? Do you realize how old I am? I've learned everything I need to learn. Sitting at a desk with a bunch of humans while some geezer drones on about physics isn't really my cup of tea." 

"So not a physics major," Pollux replied, a smirk gracing his features. If Mormo didn't find the warlock's sass so hot he probably would have burned him alive. 

"You're also going to need a job," Prom added, a hint of laughter in her voice. "So you can help with the rent." 

"YOU summoned ME and now I have to pay rent?" Mormo shouted incredulously. "I didn't even ask for this!" 

"Quiet down! Our neighbors are humans and don't need to know we summoned a demon," Pollux snapped, his voice reaching a much lower timbre than Mormo thought possible for a man of his physique. Again, really hot. Then again, Prom was also really hot. Maybe it'd just been a while since Mormo had been with someone... 

"Excuse me, but you've ripped me from a comfortable living situation and are now telling me I have to go to school, get a job, and pay rent. I'm allowed to be upset," Mormo insisted, crossing his arms. 

"Comfortable living situation?" Prom asked, raising her eyebrow. She called bullshit. 

"Hells not that bad," Mormo shrugged. "Sure, the whining of the damned can get pretty annoying. And there are more rules about what you can do and who you can eat than you'd think. And you don't get the simple pleasures of Earth to enjoy like alcohol... Okay, fine it wasn't great." 

"So, you should be more grateful to us for pulling you out of there," Prom advised, a joking pout on her lips. Mormo wanted to either smack that pout off or kiss it. He wasn't sure which. 

But he also knew he needed to comply with these witches. As much as he hated it, they had summoned him for a reason. And for some crazy reason, demons had to repay their debts to witches who summoned them out of hell. 

At least this was guaranteed to be fun if the devious look in Prom's eye had anything to say. 

"Fine. I'll go by Ambrose," Mormo conceded. "An old warlock buddy named Ambrose had helped me back in the day securing children for dinner. I kinda got him killed by his wife -- long story. Taking his name is the least I can do." 

"Alright, now we just need to figure out the rest of your story," Prom grinned, that devilish look in her eye again. “You could be a pizza delivery guy.” 

*******************

After summoning a demon, Datura headed straight to the art studio on campus. She had a piece to finish for class, and since Prom had already forced her away, she figured she might as well go finish it. Now it was seven in the morning, and Datura decided she needed some rest before going to class, so she headed back to her apartment. Struggling to carry her box of candles up the stairs and fish her keys out of her purse, Datura almost missed the flash of red hair above her. She almost jumped though at the voice a few steps above her. 

"Do you need help with that, Datura?" 

Datura looked up, smiling graciously at Fiona. She was one of the humans who lived across from her. Datura got along swimmingly with all her neighbors, but she and Fiona had only shared a few conversations in the hallway. Datura knew the redhead had a class with Prom and had shown interest in their little "friend group" (coven), but Datura had tried to keep herself from getting too close to her. Datura was known around campus for her eccentricities. Her "party tricks" were wildly known, and students often found her at social gatherings to get their tarot cards read, palms read, or other such things. To most humans, it was all just a gimmick of a kooky girl. But that's cause no one tried to look closer. Fiona seemed to be the nosy type. And Datura was not going to be the reason was discovered by humans and hunted down, despite what Grisha had accused and warned her of. 

But Datura also really needed some help getting into her apartment.

"Oh, could you just unlock my door for me please?" Datura requested, handing her purse to the other girl. "The keys are somewhere in there." 

Fiona dug through Datura's purse, pushing past the deck of tarot cards, a few crystals, and what appeared to be a small, homemade cloth doll, to find the keys in question. Unlocking the door, Fiona waited as the other girl pushed into the apartment and set the box of candles on the floor. 

"Thanks, Fiona, you're a doll," Datura cooed, taking her keys back and hanging them by the door. 

"Not a problem. What's with all the candles, though?" she smiled innocently enough, curiosity getting the best of her. 

"Oh, nothing," Datura waved it off. "Just had a little get together with some friends. Candles were... for the mood." 

"Prom and Pollux?" Fiona guessed, having seen Datura with the couple in question. There was often a fourth with them, but Fiona hadn't learned his name. He seemed a little cold to other people. 

"Yeah, Prom had us help her summon-" 

Datura nearly screamed at herself. While she was a talkative person, she had never effed up this badly. Almost blatantly admitting to the activities of the coven? Datura had never been so reckless. But she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, working on an art piece for a class, and then Prom had forced them all out of bed at an ungodly hour, and now she just wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed and snooze before her first class. 

"A pizza delivery guy," she finished, cringing internally at her cover. 

"You summoned a pizza delivery guy?" Fiona asked, skepticism written all over her. 

"Yeah," Datura nodded. "Prom called us over to hang out. And then she wanted pizza. So we summoned some by calling the store and ordering some pizzas." 

Fiona nodded, still clearly not believing a word Datura was saying. Anyone else, and Datura may have been able to get away with this. She was just "quirky" enough in people's eyes to get away with saying she "summoned" a pizza delivery guy when she meant she ordered pizza. But Fiona was nosy and suspicious of Datura, to begin with. So this wasn't going well. 

"Well, I really gotta go take a nap," Datura laughed, offering Fiona a wide smile. "Thanks for the help! Have a great day!" 

And with that, she slammed the door in the nosy human's face, praying to Satan that this wouldn't bite her in the ass later. 

[timetoresurface]

EXCHANGE (3) / JJK

to give something and receive something of the same kind in return

Note: I’ve updated! Yes! First of all thank you for your support and please keep showing your love through likes, reblogs, comments and just by simply reading and enjoying. If there is a spelling mistake or really just something completely off, don’t hesitate to contact me. 

Pairing: reader x Jungkook

Genre: romance, non idol AU

Warnings: none

Word count: 3711 words

PART 1 / PART 2 / / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6 / PART 7

Summary: Yes, you are an exchange student. You noticed EF also organized trips to Seoul and you wanted something different than the same five people in your hometown. You came to the beautiful city to learn and relax, most definitely not to fall in live with one of the teachers. Definitely not the young extracurricular teacher who seemed to be good at everything.

*Y/N = your name *Y/C = your city/country

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You curled your fingers into the palm of your hand, not even feeling them dig in. If you hadn’t fancied this guy you’d be funny and flirtatious, since you kind of did like him your brain was malfunctioning as much as if you were drunk and hangover all at once. The both of you were walking next to each other in one of the more busier streets in Gangnam. It was hard to keep up with him as people kept bumping into you. You had almost lost him twice in the past five minutes and he was getting a bit annoyed. He looked at you like: you wanted to go to Seoul so you better learn to navigate yourself through it. His hand caught yours and he guided you through the crowd. Your skin tingled where he held your hand but you tried to ignore the feeling it gave you. 

After a few minutes he took a left turn and suddenly you were in a more quiet street, an alley to be more exact. A cute restaurant was hidden behind plants and fairy lights. You were mesmerized by the beautiful simplicity of the place so you didn’t notice Jungkook letting go of your hand. You didn’t notice him taking out his phone to snap a quick picture of you being fascinated. 

“It is one of my favorite places. I accidentally discovered this restaurant when I was feeling really down and the people and the atmosphere inside really helped me get trough it.” He explained and you noticed the fondness in his eyes. You weren’t sure though if it was for the restaurant or if it was a fondness for you. He took your hand in his again and waited for you to follow him.

“Thank you.” Was the only thing you said before entering the place almost sacred to Jungkook. It was the second time he had shared something personal with you and it made you wonder what was going on in that pretty little head of his. It also made you wonder with how many people had he shared these stories? How many people had he taken to this place? Where you a first or one out of many? You tried to push these thoughts away and smiled. You were glad that your hangover self still decided to wear a dress today instead of your pajama as you first invented to do.

“Table for two.” He said and the both of you were brought to the only remaining table at the back of the restaurant. You looked around at the busy tables. An old couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each. A group of young women in their thirties  or so collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby looked on and frowned. American tourists, trying to decipher the menu. The noise level was high but it didn’t bother you.

A girl brought us some menu’s and spoke fast in Korean. Jungkook smiled and said something that got a laugh out of her. You were learning Korean so you understood simple things as ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ but you felt a bit left out. It almost seemed like he sensed your uncomfortableness as he shot you one of his characteristic smiles that left everyone gasping for breath. Our knees almost touched under the narrow table and you couldn’t help the heath that was entering your body.

“I don’t really know what to order if I’m being honest.” You confessed while staring at the menu. They had some translations into English and some things you understood but you weren’t really familiar with the Korean kitchen.

“I’ll order something for us. Don’t worry.” And with these words you were comforted. His deep brown eyes the color of melted chocolate that stared deep into your soul made your heart race but also calmed your never stopping thoughts.

He called for the waitress at your table and started ordering in Korean. She wrote down everything he said and immediately vanished into the kitchen to give our orders. Silence fell over the both of you and you didn’t know what to say or do. This was a weird situation. Him being kind of your teacher and you only being here for a little of a month. Why were you having dinner with a pretty Korean boy when your return flight was already scheduled?

“How is the hangover?” You had felt embarrassed throughout the day so his question didn’t make you blush as it would have five hours ago. His stare didn’t make your ears go red anymore.

“I’m really good actually. Your greasy breakfast saved me today.” There's that static again, that crackling in the air whenever the two of you got within a foot of each other. It wasn’t the first time you noticed but due to your lack of sleep last night, you felt it more intensely.

“My hangover soup would have been better. Maybe next time when you’re wandering the building and I have to take your crying ass in.” His facial features were babyish, big eyes, soft skin and a cute nose. There was nothing rugged about his looks at all, even his jaw was shaved absolutely smooth. You’d always gone for the lumberjack type before, but he just got you with how kind he looked, how safe.

“I promise you that this won’t happen again. I will stop drinking while I’m here.” Your words were barely said when the waitress arrived with a bottle of soju and two glasses. Jungkook started laughing uncontrollably.

“You should’ve seen your face. You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to but I thought you would appreciate a complete traditional Korean meal with the obligatory Korean drinks.” He said while still having the biggest smile on his face. He opened the bottle of Soju and looked over at you as if to ask if he could fill your glass. You nodded.

“I can’t say no to tradition.” Each drink offered seemed like a better and better idea. The jokes got funnier, you became a comedian of epic proportions and you flirted without embarrassing yourself further. 

After the food arrived he immediately started to grill the meat and explained what everything was and how you are supposed to eat it. Every time when something was done he instantly put in on your plate or asked you to open your mouth. From afar it must have looked like you were already dating, already a couple. But if you looked closer you could see your burning red ears and the awkward glances when one thought the other wasn’t looking.

He listened as if your words were golden, perhaps some drug he'd been waiting for. From what he says you can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what you’re capable of after too many shots.

“So you’re really close with your parents?”

“Yes, but I don’t live at home anymore. It started to get really tense with just the three of us living together. They didn’t want me to go but now they understand that moving out was the best thing I could’ve done for our little family. Every time spend together is because we want to and when we have a lot to say. When I lived home it sometimes felt like an obligation to go and talk to my mom.Which I hated but I didn’t know how to change it.” The food was already devoured and the both of you were the only ones left in the little restaurant. He had ordered a second bottle of soju and there were no walls around the two of you. 

“It must have been a difficult decision to make.” And in his words was a kindness, a concern that is so natural for him. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if you’re being honest, the most attractive feature you’ve ever seen in a man. And as the hours go by it becomes the best conversation you’ve ever had too, it flows, with listening and intelligent responses. 

**

The walk back to your campus was quiet. His hand didn’t find its way toward yours. The streets weren’t as busy as they had been before. The moment you stepped out of the restaurant, reality struck. This was actually not supposed to happen, you starting to like Korean boy who lived seas away from you.

“Have you ever dyed your hair?” He suddenly asked you. A simple nod of your head seemed to suffice. “I’ve always wanted to dye my hair black, but going to the hairdressers they always said I should cherish my brown locks. I mean, we’re in Asia, you know, a lot of people with black hair.”

“I can dye your hair if you want to.” You offered a bit too enthusiastically as this was a promise to meet up again after today.

“Tomorrow evening I have a dance class but I can hang out after.” The last part came out like question and your heart couldn’t help but skip a bit at his cuteness.

“I’ve applied for that dance class so I will also be available after.” His eyes locked with yours and the both of you were just smiling at each other for what felt like minutes.

“You can go in first so people don’t get the wrong idea or something.” He casually said and that’s the moment you realized you were close by campus. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jungkook.” Goodbyes were shared and you ran toward your room. You didn’t stop when someone called your name, you barely halted at the stairs running two steps a time. When you finally got in your room, you were out of breath and crashed to the ground. Luckily for you your roommate was out so nobody saw you in this weird state of anxiety and happiness. Apparently the two of them were friends in your mind now and they didn’t stop bickering about your shared moments with Jungkook.

Just sitting there your eyes were staring to get tired again due to your lack of sleep the night before. You had eaten so much of the food that Jungkook had ordered your body was ready for a long slumber. It took all of your last efforts to get up and drop yourself unto your unmade bed. Your personal dreamland opened up his welcoming arms and with a content sigh you were off to wherever your dreams would be taking you that night. Zzz

**

It was still weird waking up with a snoring roommate in a different country where nobody spoke your mother tongue. All communication had to be done in English or very crappy Korean. The first few days in Seoul have gone by so fast that you had barely seen anything. You had seen the airport, your campus and two bars and a restaurant close by campus. A mental note was taken to sightsee this weekend without a lame excuse like having to drink with your fellow students. Even though you knew you would choose the drinking option if it presented itself at the right time, like right after class.

The weather was going to be great today so you decided to wear one of your favorite summer dresses. Very casual but apparently also an eye catcher as a lot of people complimented you on your way toward breakfast. 

“You look nice Y/N.”

“That color looks really great on you.”

“Oh do you have a date or something?”

Were a few of the compliments people had given you. Alfie noticed you immediately when you entered the cafeteria area and made his way over to you. The look on his face was filled with worry.

“Where did you go last night? I saw you running to your room all worked up. Everything fine?”

“Oh, I went to eat out alone and afterwards I quickly ran to my room to call my parents.” The lie was easy and effective as Alfie instantly believed you. 

“Good. Then I can fill you in on campus gossip.” His eyes got bigger as he was ready to spill the tea. You grabbed some food and followed him toward his seat.

“There is already campus gossip?” You asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, and it involves your boy.” His smile broadened as he noticed he had my full attention.

“I don’t have a boy. You’re my boy here.” You tried to play it cool even though your heart was racing. What could it be? That he was a known player? Did he have a family? Does he have a child? What could it be?

“And it involves you.” Your eyes widened in disbelief. Did somebody see you have dinner? And if so, why would that be gossip worthy? Don’t we all go out and have dinner with handsome strangers?

“Apparently I was right that he definitely took an interest in you.” He said after taking a quick bite of his breakfast bar.

“What could you possibly mean by that? Can you please tell me what’s going on? Do I have to hide in shame?” You looked around and tried to keep your head down. The yoghurt bowl in front of you was suddenly the last thing you wanted.

“No, I think everyone is quite proud of you to be honest. Everyone is staring at you with jealous eyes.” And he was right. Everyone was staring. Maybe that was the reason everyone complimented you and not just because of the dress.

“What are they saying? I mean, if something had happened I would’ve told you so please enlighten me with you knowledge.”

“Some of the staff also have a crush on Jungkook, and to be honest I think every girl and boy on campus has a crush on him. Some of these girls have tried, but like really tried to get his attention but it never worked.” He sipped from his orange juice but you put his glass down and motioned for him to continue.

“He is nice and friendly and will always answer your questions and blabla but he has never dated anyone. Hell, he has never even talked to a girl if he had to initiate the conversation.” You started to realize where this was leading too. It strangely calmed you down knowing the gossip was about Jungkook not sleeping around. Not that you really cared, you know, he’s not yours or anything.

“That’s were you come in the picture. He has initiated a conversation with you on multiple occasions. He immediately notices where you are and is very interested in your extra activities, if you know what I mean.” The last part was said with a naughty look in his eyes so the only thing you could do was hit him at the back of his head.

“Why are you so defensive? Is something really going on?” His voice was only a whisper and you were glad he finally showed a little bit of tact around you. 

“No, as I said before if there was I would’ve told you. I just don’t like being talked about especially if I didn’t even do anything. I just excited and people created a much more interesting story around it.” A sigh escaped your lips and in that moment Jungkook wandered into the cafeteria. It seemed like he had overslept as his hair was wild and curly and this made it harder for you to tear your eyes off of him. He quickly grabbed some fruit and sprinted outside without noticing the effect he had on the whole room. If all eyes weren’t on you before they were most definitely now.

“I’m just saying if you could hit that you should. You owe it to all the girls who are eying you with pure venom pouring out of their eyes.” 

“He is good-looking but I don’t want to hit anything. I want to learn and I want to sight see and I want to have drinks with you.” It came out more desperate than you originally intended but this whole situation was getting on your nerves.

“Maybe he could learn you new things you know.” Alfie said with a smirk that deserved another hit to the head. “I’m sorry, that one was really too easy. You want to have a drink tonight?” He asked you hopefully. You remembered the plans you had made with Jungkook to color his hair but you couldn’t mention this to Alfie as you had already lied about you whereabouts yesterday. 

“No, not tonight. I think I might study tonight. Because of our last drinking session we practically missed a full day of class even though we were in the room. I didn’t learn a lot yesterday.” The excuses and lies were easy for you today and it only made you grow a certain disgust for yourself. That’s why you don’t want to hang out with cute boys. They make you go al coo-coo in the head and you most definitely didn’t have time to be one of these girls who left everything for a certain pair of pretty brown eyes. Tonight you were going to tell him you would not be secretly having out with him anymore as the lies were already building up.

“I’ll try to catch up today in class, speaking of-“ he opened his phone to check the time “-we should be going if we don’t want to be late.” You ate your last spoon of yoghurt and threw the remaining in the nearest garbage can. 

**

“So that ends our class for today. Remember to pair up and wander around in Seoul to take some pictures.” The teacher remarked as everyone was packing up their bags and waiting for his cue to leave. “You can go now.” He finished and everyone jumped out of their seat toward the exit.

“You want to pair up?” Alfie asked you and you happily nodded your head.

“I am extremely honored that you thought of me to be your everlasting partner through the busy streets of S-“

“Yes I get it. Let’s look for some food. I’m starving.” Alfie interrupted you ready to discuss the more important matters, such as food. Your stomach started growling and Alfie shot up a look of fascination. 

“It’s really strange how much noise your stomach can make.”

“My belly is just really excited to be here. Asian food has always been my favorite. So stop talking and carry me outside.” You said while jumping on his back. He had an odd kind of spluttering laugh but is was contagious. The both of you were running through campus with the biggest grin on your faces.

“Hey Y/N, Alfie, where are you guys going?” The shrieking twins yelled after us. Alfie dropped me and turned around.

“We’re going to look for some food as we’re both starving. You want to come with us?” You asked them hoping they would say no, which of course they didn’t. They agreed and some other people heard too so now you were going out to have some food with Alfie and six other people of your class.

“So Y/N what is going on between you and Jungkook?” Amalia asked you innocently but her eyes showed an interest you couldn’t quite place. Borderline obsession was the vibe she was giving you.

“Nothing is going on and I don’t really know why people would think that. We had two conversations and I’ve only been here for four days so that would be really quick of me to jump on something or someone.” You tried to explain calmly but in the end your annoyance with the situation showed.

“I would jump that on my first day.” Agate muttered under her breath and everyone started laughing. This wasn’t the only moment they tried to get some information out of you but you always just brushed it off. Food was eaten and some soft drinks were shared and before you knew it, it was time to go and get ready for dance class, with Jungkook, as teacher. 

“I’m definitely going to wear something sexy. He can not deny what I’ve been given once he notices.” Amalia said on the walk back to our dorms.

“Well, he first has to notice you as Y/N takes up all his attention.” Agate said while eying your reaction.

“Don’t be worried girls. I will be wearing simple black Adidas joggers and t-shirt.” And so you did what you said. You changed into your only pair of sport pants you had with you and also put on a bucket hat so you could hide your sweaty face while dancing. You were definitely no dancer and nobody had to see your face all sweaty.

“Y/N, you ready?” Alfie yelled from the other side of your door. You took one last look in the mirror and decided to have a good time. Tomorrow there will be other more interesting gossip and people would forget about you and the handsome young man.

“Yes, I am but are you?” You asked while opening the door. He was wearing flashy green pants matched with a blue sweater. 

“I am not, but I have the best outfit out the two of us so I will be fine.” He said while tugging at your hat. The both of you were laughing when you entered the rehearsal area. Jungkook was the first you saw in the room and your eyes locked almost instantly. He was kind of wearing the same outfit and a blush was, as always, to be found on your face. The both of you almost looked like a couple matching their clothes and you could hear everyone’s thoughts. 

“Why are they dressed the same?”

“Is this a secret confirmation of what we already knew?”

“Why does Jungkook look so good in black Adidas joggers combined with a white T-shirt.”

The last thought might have been yours but you knew everyone must have felt the same. He looked good in everything. Alfie guided you toward the back of the room and the both of you ignored everyones stares.

“Is this what it feels like to be famous?” Alfie whispered.

“This is what it feels like to be hated.” you sighed while you put down your towel and water bottle and went to stand in line next to the shrieking twins. They were both in a rather sexy workout outfits and you couldn’t help but admire their determination. You simply mouthed ‘hi’ to them and they both smiled at you. They might be a little jealous but they were good girls, somewhere.

“You look amazing Y/N.” Agate complimented you and you just smiled.

[hillnerd]

THE LEAD UP TO HARRY/GINNY

So, I see a lot of people saying Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley was ‘forced’ felt ‘rushed’ etc. 

Hinny was lead up to for 5 books, son! :) In no way is that rushed.

Harry and Gin’s love story is basically one of bad timing, where themes, foreshadowing, language and characterization have been used to slowly establish Ginny as special in Harry’s life, and forge the foundation on which their relationship is built in book 6.

I have receipts. :D

LONG ‘ESSAY’ ABOUT H/G BUILDUP IN BOOKS 1-5:

Book 1 - first girl he meets

she’s the first weasley kid/first nice kid he even hears speak actually

And there’s this brief description of him watching her I find very poetic:

The train began to move. Harry saw the boys’ mother waving  and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed; then she fell back and waved. Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner.

Book 2- giant book of foreshadowing

So, this book ties Ginny and Harry thematically, establishes certain patterns with them, ties Gin to the main themes of the books very inextricably, ties her to Harry in a way no other character is tied, and also establishes her as a future love interest for Harry.

In NO way am I saying Harry had romantic notions about her at this point in the series (heck no! He’s just 12!)- but rather from a writing perspective, things were put in place to establish future H/G goodness.

From the get go, she is described, again, in somewhat cute/‘poetic’ language

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, red-headed figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

--

Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.

--

Ginny seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun.

--

“Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?” Harry asked Ginny. She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except Harry’

So she’s this adorable little winsome gal who Harry (established as pretty effing rude about most girls/women he describe), is giving language I’d love to have written about me even now, as a full-grown married woman.

So, of course we start off book 2 with Ginny being a shy little sister, who has a crush on her brother best friend/is enamored with the boy hero. Even though she could have been written as burdensome or annoying to Harry- he never once feels that way about her (even when tackled by that cupid dwarf with her singing valentine.)

To the contrary, he’s always quite sweet with her, giving her his books, notices when she’s out of sorts, pulls out his wand to expelliarmus Draco when he’s taunting Ginny by holding her diary (which mirrors Ron’s going after Draco when Draco was calling Hermione mudblood),  and then he freaking saves her.

Also, let’s point out a silly things: Draco calls Gin Harry’s girlfriend in book 2. ;)  How’s THAT for romantic foreshadowing? :) 

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.“Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!” drawled Malfoy.

The language when he saves her, again, has emotional resonance than he had for almost anyone else in the series for the first few books- THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC- just establishes a theme of how Harry considers her and has a soft spot for her (seriously, read this, then go back and read his underwhelming reaction to Ron possibly being severely injured in PS/SS with the chess match… like… for reals):

He couldn’t not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.

And between the feet [of the statue’s robes], facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

“Ginny!” Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. “Ginny — don’t be dead — please don’t be dead —” He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny’s shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn’t Petrified. But then she must be —

“Ginny, please wake up,” Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny’s head lolled hopelessly from side to side.’

Also, in this book, though it’s quick little bits here and there, they establish also how Harry and Gin instinctively ‘get’ one another, despite their lack of interaction- like when she defends Harry to Draco with ‘he didn’t want all that’- or when he keep Ron from prying after he saves Gin

“I’ll explain when we get out of here,” said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever.

“But —”

“Later,” Harry said shortly. He didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who’d been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny,

This is how their dynamic works later in the series- they just get each other’s motivations/needs. Even this early on, hints of their dynamic is established - as hey, some people just get one another- even when they are platonic childhood friends.

So on top of all the above, she’s connected to him in that she knows horcruxes and Tom Riddle basically better than anyone, really. (I was sort of bummed they didn’t use this more later, though DAMN is she doesn’t sass Harry out of yelling in book 5 over it :D). She introduces one of the most important things in the series- needing to know Voldemort, Voldemort’s soul imprints, and how to defeat horcuxes.

Only four characters have ever had the mental influence of a horcrux, that we know of- Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Of them all, only Harry and Ginny ever really got perspective on Riddle/Voldemort- vs Ron and Herm were influenced, not sharing back and forth. This makes Ginny stand out thematically from any other character in the series- that she shares this connection with Harry.

Harry saves her in probably the most traditionally romantic/fantasy driven/fairy tale way- literally the hero saves a damsel in distress from a giant reptile with a sword- but Rowling subverts this by having them literally have no romance build from there for another 4 books- because they are kids.

So yeah- she’s established early on, writing-wise, as a future flame for him, and tied them very closely.

Book 3 - briefest of shared moments

Ginny is barely present in this book, but despite her crush making her rather mute in front of him- they have a share moment of humor (which seems to be a big connection for the two of them- the two always catching each other’s eye and smirking at eachother later in the series.)

“Ah, there’s Penelope!” said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry’s eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn’t miss his shiny badge.

Both are deeply affected by dementors (along with Nev, though his is just mentioned as being pale along with Gin) on the train.

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob; Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her. “But didn’t any of you — fall off your seats?” said Harry awkwardly. “No,” said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. “Ginny was shaking like mad, though…”

And she gives him another card when he’s in the hospital (which he keeps, even though he hard to literally keep it under a fruit bowl so it won’t sing anymore- he’s dispassionately thrown out Hagrid’s rock cakes and Ron and Hermione’s gifts he actually enjoyed before- so here he is, still having a tender (but platonic) spot for Ginny.)

Book 4- character establishment and missed opportunities

So, again, Ginny isn’t around much in this book. She still blushes around him a little, but is able to smile and talk with him much more easily, especially about the twins’ joke shop endeavors, and definitely has a lot more of her sass come out (fleetingly saw a couple of times of it in book 3).

She’s still not included in any of the trio’s antics (not even being told about Sirius’s innocence)- and they mainly establish that she has a great sense of humor like her brothers, laughing a lot at things Harry and Ron do (while Hermione can’t bring herself to laugh, b/c it’s hermione), and being compassionate as per usual to people and animals alike (as in book 3).

Anyways, the main thing that stands out in this book- is the missed opportunity for all the main characters to go out with their future romantic partner/s.

Ron and Hermione don’t go to the ball.

Harry and Ginny don’t go to the ball.

Harry and Cho don’t go to the ball.

It’s a big missed moment for them all, really. :P

So yeah- we all are very aware of all that yule ball, who is going out with who drama-

Anyways, another moment I like is Weasleys are always his escape - and she’s a part of that. :

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to [Ron and Harry] too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he were back at the Burrow; he had forgotten to worry about that evening’s task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did he remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.

Book 5 - Establishing the foundation through interactions, themes and language.

So, this is where we get to see full-out Ginny. No longer is it just hints at her sass, pieces of her compassion, tiny shared moments between her and Harry- oooh no. This book is where we finally have Ginny’s full glory out and about, and it’s awesome. She is ballsy, she is cool, and lord help me, I love her so much. JKR establishes a very very firm foundation for a romantic relationship between them to blossom in this book.

From the get go, Ginny is on point.

So a quick exploration of how awesome Ginny is:

The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared. “Oh hello, Harry!” said Ron’s younger sister, Ginny, brightly. “I thought I heard your voice.”

This is after he was screaming, and had just been teased by the twins for it. Again that poetic language is used for her, and she’s now part of his gang- and intimate along with Ron and Hermione (or as close as anyone can get) with his plans and life.

Like, I could go on forever about how cool Gin in this book, but I’ve literally written pages at this point. Suffice it to say- she kicks arse - like, she’s hangin with the twin and being cool in Grimmauld place, she’s kicking butt at quidditch, she’s flying into Smith when he’s an arse, she’s known for her bat bogey hex.

“Yeah, size is no guarantee of power,” said George. “Look at Ginny.” “What d’you mean?” said Harry. “You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes, have you?”

And she’s compassionate too, as she’s kind to Luna and Neville a whole bunch in this book

“I’m nobody,” said Neville hurriedly. “No you’re not,” said Ginny sharply. “Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood.”

She and Harry share grins and laughs throughout the book

Well, hello there!” [Lockhart] said. “I expect you’d like my autograph, would you?” “Hasn’t changed much, has he?” Harry muttered to Ginny, who grinned.

So yeah, Ginny is amazing, so it’s not really a surprise that the next book, when Harry is no longer crushing on Cho, he takes notice.

The main points of connection between Harry and Gin are that: a few times in this book he relies on her to help him emotionally, or she just steps up to do it- at times she does it better than any other pier of his, including Ron and Hermione.

The first moment where she really helps Harry out is on the Hogwarts Express:

The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past and they swayed where they stood. “Shall we go and find a compartment, then?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

“Er,” said Ron.

“We’re — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage,” Hermione said awkwardly. Ron wasn’t looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.

“Oh,” said Harry. “Right. Fine.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to stay there all journey,” said Hermione quickly. “Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.”

“Fine,” said Harry again. “Well, I-I might see you later, then.”

“Yeah, definitely,” said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. “It’s a pain having to go down there, I’d rather — but we have to — I mean, I’m not enjoying it, I’m not Percy,” he finished defiantly.

“I know you’re not,” said Harry and he grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks, and a caged Pigwidgeon off toward the engine end of the train, Harry felt an odd sense of loss. He had never traveled on the Hogwarts Express without Ron.

“Come on,” Ginny told him, “if we get a move on we’ll be able to save them places.”

So back to school they go, and poor Harry is all alone and a bit lost as to what to do with himself when Ron and Hermione leave him for prefect stuff. Ginny immediately takes charge and is super sweet, finding him a compartment, hanging with him and Neville and Luna. I’d like to point out, she didn’t HAVE to help him out at all. She has her own friends in her year (who hail her over the second they’re in the great hall) and a boyfriend- she’s just being awesome.

She then comforts him about Cho for a sec (as she gets the whole trying to look cool

Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap.

“Never mind,” said Ginny bracingly. “Look, we can get rid of all this easily.” She pulled out her wand. “Scourgify!” The Stinksap vanished.

Ginny, unlike the other young ladies in Harry’s life, has the ability to bring calm to the storm at times with pointed humor. Like the first DA meeting, when Luna and Hermione break into a fight that derails the whole thing:

“Yes, he’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna solemnly.

“No, he hasn’t,” snapped Hermione.

“Yes, he has,” said Luna.

“What are heliopaths?” asked Neville, looking blank.

“They’re spirits of fire,” said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. “Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —”

“They don’t exist, Neville,” said Hermione tartly. “Oh yes they do!” said Luna angrily.

“I’m sorry, but where’s the proof of that?” snapped Hermione.

“There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you’re so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —”

“Hem, hem,” said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?”

Ginny is able to calm him where no one else can when he’s afraid after he’s had the dream with Mr Weasley- not only de-escalating him, but also cheering him up, while standing up to him full on and able to snap him out of it and make him listen:

[Hermione] sat down next to Ginny, and the two girls and Ron looked up at Harry. “How’re you feeling?” asked Hermione.

“Fine,” said Harry stiffly. “Oh, don’t lie, Harry,” she said impatiently.

“Ron and Ginny say you’ve been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo’s.”

“They do, do they?” said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny. Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed. “Well, you have!” she said. “And you won’t look at any of us!”

“It’s you lot who won’t look at me!” said Harry angrily.

“Maybe you’re taking it in turns to look and keep missing each other,” suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Very funny,” snapped Harry, turning away.

“Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood,” said Hermione sharply. “Look, the others have told me what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears —”

“Yeah?” growled Harry, his hands deep in his pockets as he watched the snow now falling thickly outside. “All been talking about me, have you? Well, I’m getting used to it… .”

“We wanted to talk to you, Harry,” said Ginny, “but as you’ve been hiding ever since we got back —”

“I didn’t want anyone to talk to me,” said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.

“Well, that was a bit stupid of you,” said Ginny angrily, “seeing as you don’t know anyone but me who’s been possessed by You-KnowWho, and I can tell you how it feels.” Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her.

“I forgot,” he said.

“Lucky you,” said Ginny coolly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he meant it.

“So … so do you think I’m being possessed, then?”

“Well, can you remember everything you’ve been doing?” Ginny asked. “Are there big blank periods where you don’t know what you’ve been up to?” Harry racked his brains. “No,” he said.

“Then You-Know-Who hasn’t ever possessed you,” said Ginny simply. “When he did it to me, I couldn’t remember what I’d been doing for hours at a time. I’d find myself somewhere and not know how I got there.”

Harry hardly dared believe her, yet his heart was lightening almost in spite of himself.

[Herm and Harry give input on how he was in bed the whole time and no one apparated into hogwarts]. I’m not the weapon after all, thought Harry. His heart swelled with happiness and relief, and he felt like joining in as they heard Sirius tramping past their door toward Buckbeak’s room, singing “God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogriffs” at the top of his voice.

So yeah- Ginny was able to bring him peace of mind in a way LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE COULD.

She goes on to bolster him about his quidditch ban (and is the only person to really do so, it seems) and then again shows her ability to ‘get’ him:

“Good catch,” Harry told Ginny back in the common room, where the atmosphere closely resembled that of a particularly dismal funeral.

“I was lucky,” she shrugged. “It wasn’t a very fast Snitch and Summerby’s got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you’re back on the team —”

“Ginny, I’ve got a lifelong ban.”

“You’re banned as long as Umbridge is in the school,” Ginny corrected him. “There’s a difference. Anyway, once you’re back, I think I’ll try out for Chaser. Angelina and Alicia are both leaving next year and I prefer goal-scoring to Seeking anyway.”

Harry looked over at Ron, who was hunched in a corner, staring at his knees, a bottle of butterbeer clutched in his hand. “Angelina still won’t let him resign,” Ginny said, as though reading Harry’s mind.

Then she inspires hope in him, yet again:

“It’s Easter eggs from Mum,” said Ginny. “There’s one for you… . There you go… .” She handed him a handsome chocolate egg decorated with small, iced Snitches and, according to the packaging, containing a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Harry looked at it for a moment, then, to his horror, felt a hard lump rise in his throat.

“Are you okay, Harry?” asked Ginny quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry gruffly. The lump in his throat was painful. He did not understand why an Easter egg should have made him feel like this.

“You seem really down lately,” Ginny persisted. “You know, I��m sure if you just talked to Cho …”

“It’s not Cho I want to talk to,” said Harry brusquely.

“Who is it, then?” asked Ginny.

“I …” He glanced around to make quite sure that nobody was listening; Madam Pince was several shelves away, stamping out a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott. “I wish I could talk to Sirius,” he muttered. “But I know I can’t.” More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit, and put it into his mouth.

“Well,” said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg too, “if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it… .”

“Come on,” said Harry hopelessly. “With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?”

“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.” Harry looked at her.

Perhaps it was the effect of the chocolate — Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with dementors — or simply because he had finally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning inside him for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful… .

So on top of ALL THAT- there are literary themes tying Ginny and Cho together. His current flame is somehow always getting cocurrently talked about or written about with Ginny flitting around in there. Ginny and Cho’s lives mirror each other, or they are inexplicably linked in scenes. We see scenes where they intersect, Ginny and Cho are in competetition (note, Ginny always wins), and their love lives seem to twist into one another’s. Coincidence?! I think not! :D

“Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn’t like you, of course,” she added kindly to Harry while she examined a long black-and-gold quill. Harry, whose head was still full of Cho’s parting wave, did not find this subject quite as interesting as Ron, who was positively quivering with indignation, but it did bring something home to him that until now he had not really registered.

“So that’s why she talks now?” he asked Hermione. “She never used to talk in front of me.”

“Exactly,” said Hermione. [hermione shops]

Ron still breathing down her neck. “Ron,” she said severely as she turned and trod on his feet, “this is exactly why Ginny hasn’t told you she’s seeing Michael, she knew you’d take it badly. So don’t harp on about it, for heaven’s sake.”

“What d’you mean, who’s taking anything badly? I’m not going to harp on about anything …”

Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the way down the street. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and then said in an undertone, while Ron was muttering imprecations about Michael Corner, “And talking about Michael and Ginny … what about Cho and you?”

Somewhat to Harry’s disappointment, it was Ginny who managed to find Cho Chang and her friend first

“The Defense Association?” said Cho. “The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,” said Ginny. “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?” There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.

“All in favor of the D.A.?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s a majority — motion passed!”

Harry glimpsed Ron and Ginny skimming over the stands and felt a horrible pang that he was not up there with them… . “You really miss it, don’t you?” said Cho.

“Yeah,” said Ron slowly, savoring the words, “we won. Did you see the look on Chang’s face when Ginny got the Snitch right out from under her nose?”

“I suppose she cried, did she?” said Harry bitterly.

“Well, yeah — more out of temper than anything, though …”

Harry looked around. Cho was passing, accompanied by Marietta Edgecombe, who was wearing a balaclava. His and Cho’s eyes met for a moment. Cho blushed and kept walking. Harry looked back down at the chessboard just in time to see one of his pawns chased off its square by Ron’s knight.

“What’s — er — going on with you and her anyway?” Ron asked quietly.

“Nothing,” said Harry truthfully.

“I — er — heard she’s going out with someone else now,” said Hermione tentatively. Harry was surprised to find that this information did not hurt at all. Wanting to impress Cho seemed to belong to a past that was no longer quite connected with him. [paragraph about Sirius’s death]

“You’re well out of it, mate,” said Ron forcefully. “I mean, she’s quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful.”

“She’s probably cheerful enough with someone else,” said Harry, shrugging.

“Who’s she with now anyway?” Ron asked Hermione, but it was Ginny who answered.

“Michael Corner,” she said. “Michael — but —” said Ron, craning around in his seat to stare at her. “But you were going out with him!”

“Not anymore,” said Ginny resolutely. “He didn’t like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead.” […]

“Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot,” [Ron] said, prodding his queen forward toward Harry’s quivering castle. “Good for you. Just choose someone — better — next time.” He cast Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it.

“Well, I’ve chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he’s better?” asked Ginny vaguely. “WHAT?” shouted Ron,

SO THERE YA GO- ALL THAT BUILD UP- :) was it fast and out of nowhere? no way! Reread and see it right there in the books, mates!

Like, you can not like their ship- but there is no denying the buildup.

:)

[appreciate-kaimaki]

Could I request headcannons for SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki and SHSL Nurse Kaito?

Thank you, anon, for sending us our first AU/talentswap ask! This one was such a joy to write! I had to think a lot to make a scenario where a biker gang leader and a nurse could meet and grow closer together, but the ideas really started to flow pretty soon. And in the end, it became the longest piece I've ever written on this blog... so long, in fact, that I converted it into a full fanfic! Did I do your idea justice? What do you think? Your fic is under the cut, so please enjoy!

~Mod Shuichi~

Maki Harukawa is the roughest, toughest, most ruthless gangster the world has ever seen, standing at the very peak of street hierarchy and feared not only by the other gangs (many of whom are double her age) but also the police themselves. She routinely prowls the streets with her gang, clad in her signature red and black leather jacket with a dagger strapped to her thigh and revving her bike's custom engine as loudly as she can as she tears through the streets like the queen of the road she is. And this would have been like any other day, had a rival gang led by Shirogane Tsumugi not decided to mount a sneak attack on her to 'reclaim the streets'. Two of her goons got a van and t-boned Maki's bike in an intersection in a very underhanded move.

They should have known better. Maki Harukawa does not go down that easily - and even if she can't fight them right now herself, her well-trained subordinates are lightyears better than Shirogane's bear-handed misfits. Still, she knows she'd be dead if it weren't for her natural agility and reflexes, and she also knows she's extremely lucky to have gotten off on just a broken arm and leg.

She's rushed to the hospital and Korekiyo, her second-in-command, drops by with some of her gang members to check up on her once the operation's over. Maki tells him not to mind her too much, and to go wage war on Shirogane and her band of idiots instead. He heeds the command with much gusto, but not before pre-paying her bills to the best service the hospital can afford. Never say crime doesn't pay, she muses.

(Other gang leaders would be worried about their second-in-commands usurping their rule while they're out of commission. Not Maki, though. She knows her subordinates like the front of her hand, and they will never betray her while she's still alive.)

Now that she is effectively relieved from duty, the only thing left to do is to rest and mend her bones. Easy, huh?

Apparently not, as the personal nurse assigned to her is the single most annoying human being she has ever seen. His spiky purple hair and goatee clash horribly against his scrubs, and every fifth word out of his mouth is a space pun. He also doesn't appear to be intimidated by her at all - doesn't he know who she is? Any hope that he would be somewhat tolerable is dashed to pieces like her bike when he immediately gives her a despicable nickname in the first minute they meet.

"Hi, I'm Kaito Momota!" he announces way too jovially to someone who just had two limbs wrapped in a cast. "I'll be your nurse for the next four months. Nice to meet you, Miss Maki Roll!"

"Maki Roll?!"

He then proceeds to spend the next three hours explaining how he made her that nickname (because her first name is Maki, you see, and his mom just so adores his maki rolls that it's become a reflex whenever he sees the word, oh did he mention that he makes some wicked maki rolls?) and Maki is ready to either strangle him or rip her own hair out of her scalp when Momota is finally called away by intercom. The reprieve is short-lived, however, as the purple idiot barges back in a mere ten minutes later, ready to torture her with more bad puns and incessant storytelling. At this point, Maki would rather strangle herself. One thing is clear: she cannot take this for four effing months. She'd go mad by the second week.

She takes advantage of one of his bathroom breaks to flag down a passing doctor, a lady with deep purple hair and lavender eyes (was purple hair a thing in medical personnel these days?), and begs her to get her a different nurse, a doctor she could talk to, anyone other than Kaito goddamned Momota.

The doctor, 'Mikan Tsumiki' according to her nameplate, apparently cannot understand Maki's adverse reaction. "B-but didn't your friend ask for the best we had?", she replies quizzically. And right then and there Maki learns from Doctor Tsumiki that Kaito Momota the imbecile in purple is in fact the Super High School Level Nurse what the hell?!

"Everyone's so energetic and cheerful after meeting him," Doctor Tsumiki continues, and Maki can barely contain her incredulousness. Momota chooses that moment to reappear, and Doctor Tsumiki excuses herself. Maki forces herself to think for the best - if he's the Ultimate Nurse, at least he'll be good at treating her enough for her to ignore his prattling.

And he is very good at his job, indeed. He can change her casts without her feeling a single thing. He's always ready on call in case she needs anything, and he's making a visible effort to ramble less after the first few days. He still doesn't seem to acknowledge at all that he's treating the number one gangster in town, though.

He knows who she is. He'd be an actual idiot if he didn't, considering her name still shows up on the news at least once a week (including the report on her 'accident').

Yet he is still as friendly and, dare she say it, charming as the first time he met her. (What? He is annoying, but there is a certain charm to him.) It's nice, but it's also scary. If what he's showing her is a facade, it's a better mask than any she has ever worn and she's terrified of it.

One day she just goes 'fuck it' and decides to ask him herself. Time in the hospital is supremely boring, so Maki can at least blame the situation for her curiosity getting the better of her. She puts on her best game face and calls him over.

"Hey, Momota."

"Yes, Maki Roll?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Well, duh." He gestures to her patient card at the foot of the bed. "Why wouldn't I? Maki Harukawa, the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. I'm not that stupid, you know."

"Then why aren't you scared of me? Why do you keep trying to get closer? Do I look like a joke to you?"

There. She said it. Now all she needs is answers.

Kaito pulls up a chair and plonks himself down on it. His eyes have a serious look she's never seen before as he opens his mouth.

"I'd be lying if I wasn't a little bit scared. Your eyes have that look down pat. But I'm not gonna let that bother me. At all."

"Why?"

"I became a nurse because I wanted to help people, make them happier and healthier, and I won't stop just because some lady has an unconventional job. The queen of England could be sitting here right now and I'd treat her exactly the same way. To me, you're not Maki Harukawa the gangster. You're Maki Harukawa, the girl with a broken arm and leg."

Maki is thrown for a loop at his words. Nobody had ever considered her identity seperate from her title before. No one has ever treated her like everyone else before. The nerve, part of her mind screams. It's kindness, another part yells back. Maki thinks the latter is more likely.

And as she's thinking, the idiot just has to add, "Plus, I think you're kinda cute."

She takes pleasure in watching Momota duck to avoid the pen she throws at his face.

As the days pass by, she finds herself opening up more and more to Momo... Kaito. (He had insisted upon calling him that, reasoning that they weren't strangers anymore. He wasn't wrong, so she obliged.) As the SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki is used to a life of hushed voices and fearful glances whenever she shows up, and she deals with it because being the top of the food chain means she has to keep her image intact. But Kaito is different. She feels like she can be actually personal with Kaito, in a way even Korekiyo cannot provide. Maybe it's because whatever she tells him, he doesn't judge - he just listens.

He listens to her past as an orphan, tossed from foster home to foster home. He listens to her recounting the brutal world of street crime and how it burned her childhood into ashes. He listens to what she feels about Korekiyo, how she's grateful for him because he was her first real friend. She can tell he's genuinely interested in whatever it is she's saying.

And then, when she's done talking, he'll share something about himself. He used to want to be an astronaut, before deciding his talents would better be used helping the sick and injured. His best friend is the SHSL Detective (one of them, at least). He helped set him up with his crush the SHSL Pianist, and they've been dating for almost a year. He can actually make some delicious maki rolls. (He brought some over one day to share with her at lunch and she's never tasted a better roll. Maybe the nickname isn't too bad after all?)

It's all very new to her, and Maki is both unnerved and excited by it at the same time. One thing is sure, though - it feels very good to have someone who understands her.

The four months are gone in a flash, and soon Kaito is removing the last pieces of her leg cast as she reads a text from Korekiyo saying he'll head over to pick her up. Maki steals a glance at the nurse busying himself with the cast saw. Is it too sentimental to think that she'd like to see him some more? First impressions aside, she's really grown attached to him - and a part of her wonders if that attachment could become something more. Dammit, Maki thinks. She's been away from action for too long. She must have gone soft. Lost in thought, she jumps in surprise when Kaito's face abruptly fills her field of vision.

"Earth to Maki Roll," he says, "As I was saying, your arm and leg have mended splendidly, so you'll be cleared in the next hour - so I got you a good health present!"

He hands her a bundle wrapped in glittery purple wrapping paper. She tears it open, only to find... her old jacket?

It's not her old jacket. Her old jacket got shredded to ribbons in the crash and they had to throw it away. But this one, also black leather with crimson highlights but shiny new, fits her perfectly in both style and size.

"I saw the interns throwing out your jacket the day you got here. I guessed you might miss it, so I got you a new one. It's not the exact same model, but..."

"How did you know my size?"

"You're joking, right? You went through more than a hundred hospital gowns. Of course I remembered." His smile is blinding, and Maki can't help but give a small smile back in return. For a split second, as she holds the clearly heartfelt gift, all her emotions do battle debating what to do. She settles for hugging him awkwardly around the midsection with a muttered "Thank you."

"You're welcome! It wasn't a big deal, really." Kaito's smile is positively radiant as he hugs her back.

She could really get used to this.

NO. Stop it, Maki. You're the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. You have a reputation. You can't be this soft.

Speaking of soft, Kaito's shirt feels really soft...

Maki. STOP.

She recoils quickly, ducking to hide the blush on her face, and spits out "I bet you give presents to all the patients you treat!" to hide her embarassment only to immediately regret it when his face visibly falls.

"I'm not that kind of person, you know," he mutters, "you were the first time I bought someone something." It's the quietest she's ever seen him. Great, now she's the one feeling bad.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Kaito gives her a small smile as he escorts her to the doctor's office. "It's okay. I guess I should tell you you're also the only one to get a nickname?"

She laughs out loud, and it feels good again.

True to Kaito's word, the doctor soon gives her the all-clear. He does, however, remind her to go easy on her limbs and keep doing physical therapy for at least another month.

Korekiyo is, true to his word, waiting for her just outside the door with a full brigade of riders in tow. As Maki strides out to meet him, he wordlessly hands her a cracked pair of glasses and a bloody ribbon. Maki grins as she inspects the trophies. Shirogane won't be bothering them anytime soon.

He beckons her to the new bike he just dismounted and mounts the one next to it, just behind the rider. "It's all yours, boss. Just out from the shop."

But before she can get on her new bike and leave, she is reminded of Kaito standing just a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed on her back. Maki's no mind-reader, but she can clearly see the thinly veiled longing etched in his face.

It should be a tough decision. She has a reputation to keep, control to reassume, and underlings to whip into shape, after all. But Maki didn't become queen of the road by doing what everyone expected her to do, did she? It's that moment she decides to do what she does best - follow what her heart tells her. She asks Korekiyo for a pen.

Kaito has decided he's stared enough and just turned to go back inside when Maki's voice rings out from behind him.

"Wait!"

He turns back around. Maki saunters toward Kaito, new jacket glinting in the sunlight. She leans in close to his ear.

"I might come back a few times for my physical therapy... surely you wouldn't mind walking me through the steps a few times?", she whispers, her warm breath tickling his ear. Pleasant shivers run through Kaito's spine.

Kaito gets the message. His smile could call the Sun too dark as he replies, "I'd love to!"

Pulling the boy close into a hug, Maki stuffs a note in his pocket and plants a quick kiss on his cheek before walking back to her bike and the waiting Korekiyo. A few throaty revs and a hand signal from Maki later, the bikes all zoom away leaving only a small cloud of fumes and some skid marks behind.

Left alone in the parking lot, Kaito fishes out Maki's note and opens it, pumping his fist when he sees its contents - a phone number underlined twice, with the name 'Maki Roll' written next to it. The short message below simply reads 'Call me'.

Back at their headquarters, Korekiyo dares to ask Maki about the purple-haired nurse she seemed quite close to. Her only reply is a smile and "Someone I can tolerate being close to."

[ellana-ravenwood]

Never piss off a magician - Bruce Wayne x Reader!Batmom

Well, this idea made me laugh when I thought about it, and after a shitty week, I wanted to write something that was...kinda funny (though it probably isn’t). So I put on a side all my angsty stories (and lord I have a lot of those) and just wrote...this. Hope you’ll like it, as usual, feedbacks are very appreciated. Ok. Here :

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

Note to self : never piss off a magician.

Because when you do, you end up in a situation like yours right now.

A rather...delicate one.

The kind that makes you swear a lot and regret your actions...Well, come to think of it, it was probably kind of the point of this little punishment.

If only...if only you hadn’t got into an argument with Zatanna Zatara.

************

Two hours earlier, 5 am, Justice League’s Watchtower :

You were already quite annoyed to start with.

1. You didn’t got much sleep.

2. Back on earth, Alfred called you earlier in the day to say that Tim got suspended from school for a week because he punched another student who was apparently bullying Damian because of his “skin color” (you weren’t mad at Tim, on the contrary you were proud, you were mad at the situation, at the school’s reaction, at that kid who dared to bully your boy, at the fact that if Damian wasn’t the one to punch said kid, it meant that he was feeling pretty crappy...).

3. Your day had been awful, fighting on Mars creatures that were trying to take over the Universe. AGAIN. That was twice this month. And of course it was yours and Bruce’s time to keep an eye on the Worlds that night. 

4. You definitely didn’t have enough sleep. 

5. Your day before that had been awful anyway, full of fake smiles and acting like you didn’t see paparazzis stalking you. It was your day off (ONE, you had ONE day off each months), couldn’t they leave you alone ? No. No they couldn’t. And the picture of you getting your lunch dumped all over your clothes by a clumsy waiter would be the head cover of people magazine the next day.

6. Your motorcycle wouldn’t start that morning, engine problems. It had just been serviced and you were furious...Even more when you parked your car in the middle of Gotham (you should know better) and came back to slashed tires.

7. YOU. DIDN’T. SLEEP. ENOUGH. THIS. PAST. WEEK.

8. Bruce forbid you to drink one more cup of coffee (you had drunk about fifteen litters that night so...it was reasonable really), and when you told him he wasn’t the boss of you he simply stated that yes, it was true...while keeping any kind of caffeinated drinks out of your reach (quite literally really, as he kept grabbing it from your hand and just raised his arm, so you couldn’t take it back..).

And now, because of that coffee incident and other silly things that were rather unimportant really, you and Bruce were arguing. 

So when Zatanna came to you to ask if you could help her with something about her father (you couldn’t even remember what it was exactly, and felt bad afterward, knowing how anything about her father was probably extremely important to her...Come to think of it, you guys probably deserved her “wrath”), you didn’t receive her...well. 

Bruce was annoying you and annoyed at you, and you guys were being children, sitting ten feet apart from each other, arms crossed, nose in the air (physical representation of your annoyance), glaring at each other from the corner of your eyes. 

Zatanna came to you, and you turned to her in a swift move full of agression (destined to Bruce but....eh, poor magician was “collateral damage” at that point). 

She could see you weren’t even listening to her, and barely even paid attention to her presence as you kept eying Bruce angrily. 

Zatanna already saw you two get mad at each other for stupid reasons, and then get very petty about everything until the both of you couldn’t even remember the subject of your discord and apologized. 

She always thought it was cute how, after a small fight between the two of you, and after the “petty/childish” phase, you both looked miserable. The magician particularly liked Bruce’s puppy eyes, a look she’d never thought she would see on the mighty Batman’s face. Yes, you would both be miserable until you finally made up...the make out session that always ensured though, made everyone in the vicinity highly uncomfortable.  

Zatanna knew you wouldn’t help her today, not while being so pissed off, but, you see...Today, she too, wasn’t really in a good mood. 

She had a terrible week. Terrible. And finally, some good news were coming her way. About her father. So of course she rushed to the Watchtower, knowing you and Bruce were there, knowing the two of you would be able to help her ! 

And here she found you, not even taking a look at her. 

In retrospect, she regrets a few words she said, and she regrets doing what she did...but on the moment ? Oh it was just delightful ! 

So sure, she probably shouldn’t have told you two that you were selfish bastards whose problems were mundane and idiotic, but in that instant, it just sounded right. 

Of course, she knew that both of you were the least selfish of them all. On the contrary, you were giving too much of your life to “the cause”. And she knew your actual problems were far from mundane and idiotic, she knew it wasn’t easy being part of the “Batfamily”, that it was a lot of pressure and worries and sadness (but also of support and love). She knew she was being a bit unfair...

But in that moment, as you and your husband were being children because of something as stupid as “coffee” (there were probably other reasons, you were both tired and had long days and...eh, Zatanna didn’t care at that time), and didn’t even listen to a single word she said...Well, the magician kinda lost her cool. 

She went on a speech about how you were both ridiculous, and didn’t let you the time to retaliate as she just tapped her fingers, grumbled a few words, and left the room fuming, on to the nearest zeta tube. 

It took you you about ten seconds to realize what happened. 

Just the time to process Zatanna’s speech, realize she was right, and turn to each other to apologize and suggest the idea to go after and...

When you turned around, you were faced with yourself.

When Bruce turned around, he was faced with himself. 

Oh. Ok. 

Zatanna, in her anger, had just...switched your bodies ?

************

As you were looking at yourself, completely stunned, you realized a few things. 

First, you were really short compared to him. 

Second, you looked quite dumb with a surprised expression on your face. 

Third, this was a disaster. If what you thought happened actually happened, if you weren’t going crazy...Then it was an absolute disaster. 

You raised “your” hand in front of your face and..yes. No doubt. They roamed your body enough for you to recognize Bruce’s hands instantly. You were, somehow, in his body...

You were freaking out a bit. 

Bruce was too. 

First, because you were really short. Or was he tall ? He didn’t know but it was very unnerving to, for the first time in his adult life, have to twist his neck to look at someone. 

Second, he looked so stupid with that surprised look on his face ! Like a giant dork or something...

Third, this was a disaster. An absolute disaster. 

It was rather easy to guess that Zatanna was the reason this happened, and when he’d finally get over the fact that he had a pair of boobs (boobs that, by the way, he loved very much... his favorite pair of boobs in the universes... yours...oh this was so weird), he’d start to look for her but for now...

This was just an absolute disaster. 

Why on this day particularly ?!

It took you guys a good twenty minutes to get over it. 

The next hour was spent trying to find Zatanna, but the woman knew how to go incognito...She was actually probably in another dimension by now, and would most likely come back only when she was calmed down. 

In the meantime, you had an important day coming up. 

Because of course, a couple of terrible days couldn’t be topped with a third one to best them all, could it ?! 

Today, both you and Bruce had such a busy schedule and...oh God...you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this ! 

-It’s going to be ok, my love. 

You barely register your own voice saying that. Only, you’re pretty sure you didn’t say anything...Oh, right, Bruce did. Because he was in your body. 

You were starting to hyperventilate. 

You had a fleeting thought about how strange it must look. The Batman hyperventilating and freaking the hell out. 

You finally realized that Bruce was trying to comfort you when you felt a pair of weak arms (at least weaker than usual) circle around your waist and...your waist ? 

Usually his arms would grab around your shoulders, one of his hand would entangles itself in your hair. And his head wouldn’t be somewhere in the middle of your chest, but on top of yours and...RIGHT ! WHY DID YOU KEEP FORGETTING THAT YOU JUST EXCHANGED BODY ?! 

Bruce felt extremely weird, hugging “you” like so. The last person he hugged like that, with his head so low on their body, and his arms around their waist...was his mother. You were really short. Or was he really tall ? 

But no matter his height, he always was able to calm you down and with a deep breath, you regain your countenance and look down at him. 

-What are we going to do my Broosh ? 

And oh it was so odd, to hear his own voice coming out of his own mouth, and yet, knowing it was you...He was starting to have a headache. 

************

The only solution you guys had right now, was to go home. 

The day ahead of the both of you was too important to linger in the Watchtower. To escape it by staying up there. 

When Flash and Wonder Woman came to take your place to watch over the Worlds, you tried so hard to act as if nothing happened, knowing that if anyone else in the league knew what happened, they’d never let it go, and it would be a great source of jokes and such for them. 

But Diana couldn’t help but notice that Bruce was walking in a...strangely effeminate way today. And that he smiled at her widely, while usually it was his wife who would...but then, when she looked upon you, you just stared and nodded sternly. Did she do something to offend you ? 

And Flash, as he was checking you out (partly cause he thought you were very hot, and partly because annoying the bat was one of his favorite past time) couldn’t help but notice that your husband didn’t get any reaction to it. No glare, no angry look or slap on the back of Barry’s head...That was weird. And you ? You didn’t even smile or anything, you just...glared at him ! What the Hell ? 

************

The zeta tube brought you back to the Batcave, and you were both greeted by the entire family. Good, it meant they could give you insights about what to do next ! 

It was 7:30 am, and the first meeting Bruce had to attend was in about two hours. There was time to...stop freaking out, right ? 

You stumbled a bit out of the zeta tube, not really use to having such long limbs ! And went towards your sons. 

You saw, out of the corner of your eyes, Bruce getting out of the tube too, and almost falling...not used to have such short legs, he thought the floor was way closer than it really was. 

You didn’t even think about it when you almost run towards your boys and hug them. You first took Dick in your arms. You heard him gasp but he hugged you back. 

Jason pushed you away, a weird look on his face (the only times he would hug his father was in very desperate times...like one of them was close to death or...something...they just weren’t huggers much alright ? The only person Jason hugged gladly was you). You didn’t even register it, as you kissed his temple, and his eyes went wide with shock. 

Tim let go of his cup of coffees as your huge frame smashed against him, and kinda froze. What was happening ? Why was his dad hugging him ? Like that ? Out of the blue ? He would usually only hug him when he was sick, or if he felt worthless or...just not like that ! 

Damian hissed, as you took him in your arms. Genuinely hissed, and said : 

-Oh father, you’re crushing me ! 

...Father ? Oh but right. You needed to stop forgetting the fact that you were in your husband’s body right now !! 

And here you were, looking at them by bending your neck down (except for Jason who was as tall as you), feeling weird because you never looked at them from that height. They were all looking at you, surprise in their eyes. 

Well, they did just think their father was hugging them just like that, which never really happened (again, he only hugged them when they needed it...while you hugged them whenever you needed it, which was often). 

Jason had his hand on his temple, where you kissed him, and was looking at you as if you just had lost your mind. Only his mom kissed him there !

It’s only when Bruce arrived, and he just kinda nodded at them awkwardly, that they knew something was up. What, their dad was hugging them and their mom was just kinda nodding at them ? 

It’s as if you guys switched body or something, and...

OH MY GOD ! 

************

Your sons laughed for a bout thirty minutes. Straight. 

Whenever they seemed to calm down, they would look at their father, at how he stood on one feet just like their mother would usually. Then they would look at their mother, feet firmly planted in the floor, like their father would usually and...they would laugh again. 

There was just something extremely funny in the fact that their parents exchanged bodies. Especially in the way they’d poise themselves and...

Thirty minutes. Straight. 

By the time they finally calmed down, Alfred was in the bat cave with breakfast and...he instantly realized something was wrong.

It was all in the way you both stood. He guessed what had happened. Oh dear lord. 

Your retelling of the story didn’t really surprise him. 

Your sons were starting to laugh again when you got annoyed and told them to go get ready for school and leave them to handle things ! With a “yes da...mom !” they left the bat cave, laughing hysterically. 

Alfred just rolled his eyes at the two of you, giving you a disappointed look. But he did not say anything else. What were there to say ? You both knew you messed up. 

And so, always so pragmatic, he just started to tell you guys today’s schedule, underlining the fact that, since none of you knew where Zatanna was...you’d have to deal with it. The sass in those last words was too strong, even for you. 

************

-And remember, we don’t actually need that deal with their corporation, they need us more than we do, and they know it. What they don’t know, is that Batman needs an eye on their finances and I’ll be able to access them only if we strike such a deal because it seems even Tim is unable to hack their system, so I actually need that deal, but they don’t know, they think we don’t, and that they need us more than we do, and therefor they’ll try to overcompensate by being extremely high and mighty, and making themselves...

Bruce’s words flew over your head, as you were trying not to freak out again. 

You were often helping out at Wayne Inc, hell, you worked there every day but...not with those slimy possible “business partner” Bruce met every day. 

No. You were usually down in the lab with Lucius, thinking of new gadgets for the Bat or just about things that could help the city. Or you were taking care of meeting employees that had requests about things, sometimes you even just sat at Bruce’s desk doing his paperwork, or writing your next book or...anything really, even taking care of stock markets, but meeting those guys, those vultures who always wanted to be associated with the great Bruce Wayne. 

Even though your husband was telling you that deal wasn’t really important for the company, that you just needed it for the Bat and therefor could give them whatever they demanded...you were on the verge of passing out.

-Bruce, what if I blow it all up ? 

He smiles gently at you (and it’s really weird, seeing this expression on your face, it seems like you’re just speaking to your conscience and...oh this all situation was giving you a headache). With your voice, he says : 

-My love, you won’t. And worst case scenario, you somehow do and then I’ll try to strike another deal, or Tim will just have to try harder on hacking their system or...We’ll figure something out. We always do. 

-But what if I make a huge fool of myself or something...

-Those people already think I’m kind of a fool you know. It’s part of the game. 

-But...

-(Y/N), it’ll be fine. Promise. I should be the worried one...I don’t know what I’ll tell your reader if they ask me something about your next books ! I don’t know what I’ll write if they ask me to sign their books !!! 

You smile at your husband fondly and...it’s...kind of unpractical, to reach for his small frame in the car...how the hell does he do it, to always be able to touch you ? He was so tall and massive, how could he also be so quick on his feet and so flexible ?! 

You try to reach for his hand and instead touch his (or your ?) thigh awkwardly. You try to plant a kiss on his cheek and instead bump your nose on his skull and kinda kiss his hair and...Ugh. 

He can’t help but chuckle a bit, and though it’s very odd for him to extend his body up towards “you”, he’s the one that plants a kiss on your cheek, trying to ignore the fact that he just basically kissed himself. 

-Everything will be just fine. 

You both say, as to reassure the other one. 

************

Everything was not just fine. 

There you were, in the meeting room at Wayne Inc bureaus, at the end of the table, nervously pulling on your tie as you waited for Bruce’s future business partner to come in. 

You thank Caroline, Bruce’s secretary (you got very jealous once, when you saw her rearrange Bruce’s tie...until he told you that she was probably more interested in you than she was in him, being a lesbian...oh. Oh, cool, and actually flattering, as she did had a small crush on you), as she gives you a cup of coffee. 

You down it in two seconds, ignoring the burn in “your” mouth, and she looks at you weirdly, probably not used to see her boss unnerved like so. 

Especially not for such a small fish as Higgins’ company, the guys that were coming in today... 

And here they were. Coming in as if they owned the place. 

Your husband was right. They knew they needed Wayne Inc more than you really did, but instead of acting like so, instead of trying to win Bruce...they were being despicable assholes. 

Of course, it didn’t quite seem like so, but to you, who saw tons of those guys lurking around your husband...it was obvious. 

Their fake compliments, and the light in their eyes...They despised Bruce. They were jealous of him. After all, he had it all, and more than them. And now, he was basically buying them. 

It infuriated you, how you could visibly see they thought Bruce was an idiot, just a rich kid who didn’t really know what he was doing...or else, why would he give them such a great deal while they needed him more than them ? 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn't just look at those men taking advantage of the man you love, you couldn’t just look at them thinking those horrible thing about your Bruce, especially since you knew they were oh so wrong. You just couldn’t bear their toxicity. 

So far, you let them drive the car, you let them change the deal to their advantage, knowing Bruce wanted their finances for his nightly activities but..You just couldn’t anymore. 

The words kind of poured out of your mouth by themselves. As the owner of Higgins’ company, Michael Higgins, was going on yet another rant about how poor people in Gotham were the source of every problems in this town (which stroke a nerve in you, as you used to be one of those “poor people”, growing up in the Narrow, poorest and most dangerous neighborhood in GC), you cut him off and says : 

-Alright Mike, let’s cut the chase. I’ve had enough of your little games, let’s talk business. 

You can see “Mike” and his sons face suddenly loosing their fake smiles. Only for a few seconds though. Instantly, it was back on their face. Eh, maybe that Wayne kid had more guts than they thought ? 

You knew that sometimes, Bruce, tired of everything, would just agree with any terms his business partner would give him, as long as it didn’t hurt his company. It was just easier you know, you understood him. Sometimes he would give really good deals to small family owned company because he liked them, or because he thought they deserved it...but the Higgins weren’t such people.

And you couldn’t stand them thinking he was weak and stupid. So you say : 

-I was thinking about our little deal and realized...It won’t do. I went through the numbers again. I looked at all the graphs and...things. 

You saw Bruce argue enough to perfectly imitate his serious tone, but you were no business expert. You hoped you sounded sure of your words enough, and mentally face palmed you for that “graphs and...things”. 

-I realized that truly, you guys need us more than we do you. Your numbers are going down. In a year, you’ll beg for us to buy your shares. While if we associate with you now, we’ll be able to get you back on track and win more than ever. So...I don’t think I’ll be as generous as I said I would. 

“Mike” Higgins narrows his eyes at you and says, his voice dry : 

-I don’t understand Bruce. We had a deal. We...

-I’m going to be honest with you Mike. I don’t like your tone. I don’t like the way you look at me, as if I was just another dumb kid. As if I was just an idiot who’d give you profit. 

-I assure you I don...

-I don’t like how you’re trying to take advantage of my generosity. How you through other inexistant cost in the bag to make me pay more. It’s not like that amount of money would impact my finances much...but I don’t like to be use, and especially not by a shark like you. 

You don’t even know where it comes from...But it’s there. You play the Higgins like damn fiddles. You make them sign what you want them to sign. A way better deal for Wayne Inc that what was originally planned. 

Mike Higgins eyes change when he looks back at you. It’s not full of irony and supposedly superiority. Oh no. It’s...humbler. Good. 

Maybe you should trample a little more in the “business” side of the work ? ...Eh. No. This was all too exhausting, this arguing and fake smiles and...yes. No. Bruce was way better at that than you.  Besides, you weren’t too sure that using your natural sass and sarcasm was such a good idea. 

There was humbleness in Higgins’ eyes, but also a sort of...something else. Something dangerous. God you hoped you didn’t blow things up.  Uh. 

...You wondered, as you were signing papers to struck the deal, how he was doing. 

************

How did you do it ?! He couldn’t understand. 

Those stilettos were...impossible to walk with ! And this dress, so uncomfortable and he felt so naked and he kept trying to put it back in place and oh it was just so awful. 

He caught a glimpse of “himself” in a mirror and yes, sure, you looked damn hot (it kinda turned him on...in the oddest way possible right now), but this was all so difficult ! And yet you’d always walk gracefully around, in this ridiculous attire (though it looked amazing on you, of course). 

He cursed three hundred times during that short walk from the car to the book shop where you were suppose to sign your books today. He glared a bit at Alfred, who couldn’t help but laugh kinda discreetly, as he saw his “Master Bruce” try to walk. 

He sat down and as the first person came to him and told him how he loved your book...he remembered he had to smile. 

It was so exhausting, to be you ! As Bruce Wayne, he just had to smile and wave and say some charming/witty thing to cameras. As you he had to...act smart. 

He was a smart man of course, but would always act lightheartedly in public. Nonchalantly. While you ? You had a reputation to be sassy and sarcastic and smart and talented...he was just a rich philanthropist who’d crack a few stupid jokes to make other rich dudes laugh ! He wasn’t the amazing writer you were ! 

Fortunately, he was (secretly) a massive fanboy of your books and knew everything by heart, so answering people’s questions was easier than he thought. He would even tease a little bit by hinting at a few things that would happen in future books (you’d often write in bed, and he would read above your shoulder when you were too focus to notice...so he knew a few spoilers). 

But it was stil...exhausting.  

This wasn’t the worst though. 

Around 3 pm, the signing was done and he thought he did an alright job being you, though he’s pretty sure a few times people were a bit weirded out by how he sat or things like that, as it was very unlike you...Oh well. 

He went with his...eeerh, your publisher to grab a cup of coffee, and that’s when he ran into multiple dickheads. 

Being yours, he knew you were very attractive, and that this...”aura” was floating around you. You weren’t the most beautiful woman on earth (though he thought you were, by far), but no matter what, you always turned head when you walked because there was just something highly charming about you. 

It always attracted the worst assholes ever. 

But Bruce never realized how many times a day you actually got catcalled. 

So many inappropriate comments were thrown at you, so many men (and women) looked at you as if you were a piece of meat...it made Bruce angrier than ever. 

He almost punched a man twice your size that called you “sugar”, but then realized it was probably unwise...besides, goddamn paparazzis were following him ! And damn escaping on stilettos was difficult... 

He had to remind himself, later in the day, to give you the respect you deserved. To tell you how beautiful you were in a way that wasn’t so...disgusting. 

He glared at more people that day, than he ever did in his life (which says a lot)...and somehow, his glare weren’t really working like when he was glaring as Bruce Wayne ! And he didn’t know how to do your famous “Batmom Glare”...

************

You were waiting outside of Wayne Inc bureaus, arms crossed, jumping from one foot to the other, unaware of the fact that this was a strange behavior for the famous Bruce Wayne. 

People kept looking at you weird, and it’s only way later, that you realized he must have looked ridiculous, doing the thing you would usually do with your own body...

And when Bruce arrived, walking like a soldier on high heels, you realized that...Yeah, anyone who would know and look at you long enough would guess quickly that something was up. 

He stopped in front of you and, even though you spend the entire day pretending to be each other, it was still kind of awkward to reach for the other one. You were still bothered by his gigantic frame, and he didn’t know how to...hug or...kiss you...

You ended up bringing him flush against your body way too brutally (which made you appreciate his usual tenderness...he was so damn strong and yet so gentle with you !), which you were sure would leave bruises on your body, and he kinda...fell into your arms, helpless. 

It was very weird for him, to be tossed around that easily. 

You apologized profusely, and his voice sounded weird to your ears...you gave it inflections it usually didn’t have. 

As you were walking toward the car, you realized paparazzis were there and...it would have been weird if you guys didn’t walk side by side somehow. The last thing you wanted was for them to publish an article about how your marriage wasn’t going well and publish pictures of you walking not hand in hand or something...Bruce always held you against him, when you walked in the street...

But you just couldn’t seem to...be able to do that. Logistics were a bit tough. You kept putting “your” arm awkwardly across his shoulder, and he just kinda leaned into you tripping over in his shoes. 

Finally, you just settled down for just holding hands, hoping no one noticed your weird...Dance. But people didn’t really pay attention. 

Finally in the car, you sigh and close your eyes. What an exhausting day. 

He sighs too, and you can feel his eyes (yours) on you. You open one eye and look at him, still weirded out by the fact that it’s “you” you see. 

You open your arms and...finally something that is natural. Doesn’t matter wether your big or small, it’s still working. And sure it’s not as great as usual, not feeling him all around you but...still. 

He lays his head on your chest and you hold him against you, your fingers running through his unusually long hair. 

You hear him sigh in content and he says : 

-I feel weirdly safe right now. 

You laugh out loud and nod. Yup. In Bruce Wayne’s arms, it’s impossible to feel unsafe haha. 

But you wish you were in your body, and he was laying on you with his. You wish he coould engulf you under him, you wish you could feel his weight...and he wish he could feel you wrap around him, flushed against him. Though it was rather nice to be the small one for once...

************

Your sons were insufferable. They kept taking pictures and laughing about everything you did...Oh the leverage they had, with the pictures of their father crossed legged and doing his nails and such...

They were becoming so damn awful that you decided to do the only thing you knew for sure was going to drive them away...kiss Bruce. 

Or...Kiss yourself ? 

It was a bit weird. But not that bad really. 

You almost broke your own nose by bending down to yourself, or to Bruce (oh the headache wouldn’t go away !), and almost got him off the stool he was sitting on by being a bit too brusque. 

But when you finally reached his lips, it’s as if you guys never changed bodies. And sure it was strange to feel him so small, and to feel long hair, and...well it was still a bit odd...but you were still kissing the love of your life. 

You just made sure to not open your eyes. It would have been too weird. 

Your sons ran out faster than they ever did, followed by Alfred who just rolled his eyes some more. Even when you switched bodies, you couldn’t keep off of each other for an entire day. 

************

Eaten from the inside by remorse, Zatanna arrived in the bat cave via the zeta tube there around 8 pm. 

She hoped to God nothing bad happened. That you were still alive. 

She didn’t really know what to expect, and probably the worst scenarios running through her mind didn’t happen but...She couldn’t help it. 

She hated being angry and taking her anger out on others (though you kinda deserved it really). Besides, she remembered that you had an important book signing that day, and he...oh God what if she ruined your lives with that silly and petty prank ?! 

She arrived in the bat cave, making your sons jump, asking where you guys were in a frenzy...Your boys and Alfred told her you were in your bedroom, and had no time to elaborate or anything before Zatanna rushed out. 

She knew the manor. She was a good family friend...oh my God no. She was a terrible family friend. As she ran up the stairs toward the master bedroom, she just knew she ruined your life. 

It was just 8pm, and you guys were already asleep ? What happened ? Terrible things for sure. 

Especially since usually at that time, Bruce would get ready to go out as Batman, and you’d take your place behind the bat computer ! 

God. She ruined your lives. Just because of a silly argument. She was a terrible person... 

She almost destroyed the door to you bedroom, opening it way too violently and...

Oh. Of course, she couldn’t know it was Bruce’s night off. And yours too. 

But knowing the two of you, she should have guessed that you would make the best out of this situation...After all, both of you were too smart for your own good ! 

She closed the door hurriedly, her cheeks red and her eyes wide. 

You didn’t even notice her. 

Your sons arrive, running, and take her away quickly. They couldn’t stay there any longer, hearing those...awful sounds...coming out...of your bedroom...

Tomorrow. 

Zatanna would fix the situation tomorrow. 

For now, she’d let you...enjoy that change she made, she would try to forget what she just saw, and tomorrow...Tomorrow she would switch your souls back in your own bodies. 

Tomorrow. When you’ll be done...exploring the possibilities of having, quite literally, each others’ bodies. 

_________________________________________

Yeah so...Here we go. I wrote this in half an hour, while waiting for tires to be changed on my car, and I was angry at the time, and very tired. So sorry for any typos or...if it’s very meh/bad (the end is shit). Hope you liked it anyway. Thanks for reading. Really. And blahblahblah. 

[destressjournal]

DCOM Rankings #96: Bad Hair Day

So I guess this is one of those “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” things. The thumbnail image on Disney+ made it feel like it was some kind of goofy comedy for little kids. And that I was going to be in for a miserable 90 minutes. Thank the lord almighty that I was wrong.

I don’t know what the 2010’s DCOM’s have been doing but these movies in general have not been that bad! Yes of course there were a few duds but so far I haven’t had to grade any of these with a D. This movie follows that trend.

The movie starts off like it’s going to be stupid. But once Liz shows up, everything gets so much better. And it probably helps that it’s the mom from good luck Charlie that plays her, and she does it SO effing well. Like she is an amazing actress and knows how to be aggressive without being too aggressive. She was made for both the roles she was given. But yeah I really liked her as a character. I thought she was the exact foil that morgan needed.

Edit: so about this particular actress, literally as I was typing this I saw a video on Reddit of her at some sort of school PTA meeting ranting about not getting vaccinated or the “bullshit”rules about masks. Said that she’s a “California refugee” and had a “very successful Hollywood career” and that she’s better than everyone. Oh boy. Now I lost pretty much all my respect for her as a person. I didn’t think she was that kind of lady in real life. I guess that’s why she plays the role so well…it’s so sad to see ex Disney stars go off the deep end like this. But just wanted to point this out!

I guess I’ll start taking about the other characters while I’m at it. Morgan started off as a superficial Internet mini star who used online polls to have everyone else decide what she wears, eats, etc. She never decides anything for herself. And at first you’re like “oh it’s 2015 now everyone uses the Internet and social media like this” but then she gets into the reasons for why she does it and it broke my heart a little bit.

Side note: this movie got deep a little bit. I was surprised. When I was watching it, it didn’t really feel like a DCOM at times, it felt like a regular movie. That’s probably the best way to explain it. Morgan’s mom left her when she was 3 years old. And she has carried that guilt that somehow it was her fault that she left, for the rest of her life up to that point. I mean, mom’s do sometimes up and leave because they couldn’t handle the kid(s), I mean that can be a reason, a shitty reason but a reason, to leave. Maybe she said something that wasn’t meant for little morgan to hear. You don’t know that piece but you can kind of draw your own conclusions on that one.

Anyway, she felt that by being herself she was doing something wrong and therefore started asking everyone else how she needed to act, and now it delved into the 2010’s Internet culture with her online polls. Of course she still makes some decisions on her own, like the necklace that started the whole shebang. But this is the kind of character that I love because I love to analyze them on a deeper level (if they get that deep to begin with).

The rest of the characters are all pretty generic and one dimensional but that’s okay. As long as I care about my main character(s) then that’s fine. And the two leads were really good! This movie kind of reminds me of zootopia in the way the story is set up, they go on a quest to solve a mystery, they run into issues along the way, and it’s just a buddy cop movie. It’s fun! I like these kinds of adventures. The build up to the conflict was very believable, the conversations were believable, and while some of the scenarios did seem a little far fetched, it’s not totally and completely out of the question. Even though I knew that the ending would be happy, I didn’t know how this movie was going to end. And I think that’s what I really like about this movie, it wasn’t so predictable. There was obvious linkage between Liz and Morgan when people called them “mother and daughter” a million times in the movie, but honestly that mistake could happen in real life too. So I’m not too annoyed about that.

The overall theme is a slightly overused but good one, with a good modern spin to it. You can’t please everybody, but you can please yourself. You’re the only one who always has to live with the decisions you make (whether or not they affect other people) and if everyone else is happy and you aren’t, is it worth it? This is one of those things that I’ve been trying to work on myself. I don’t have an opinion on a lot of things because I don’t want to “take sides” or have a portion of people be angry at me. Even though it almost never happens! I’m such a people pleaser because I think it’s always so much easier to do something someone else wants to do than have my own opinion. And that just isn’t okay, especially if it makes me upset. There are some folks in my circle that are very picky about what we do/where we go, and I just give in because it’s not like I’ll be extremely pissed if we do this right? I gotta do what makes them most comfortable. I’ve always been such a free floater but that also leaves room for people to take advantage of that “oh, don’t worry she’ll do it, she can handle it” without even asking me.

Sorry I got off on a tangent. Point is, I know what Morgan is dealing with to an extent. The pacing in those movie is really good! Every action leads into the next action and so on. And I feel like that’s usually the case with these buddy cop movies, where they just go to the next piece of evidence which gives them a clue to the next one, and etc. But hey if it works it works. I’m not asking for an Oscar quality movie here. The humor was pretty funny. Some of it was a little cringey when Liz was trying to flirt. Like…okay no one is THAT bad at flirting.

One thing that I thought was weird was when the jewel thief threatened Monica that he’ll do something to her dad if she didn’t show up with the diamond. And then he sends her a picture of her dad all tied up but it’s SOOOO photoshopped. It’s so bad. I legitimately thought that the thief was joking and doesn’t really have him but you know that’s not true considering the last scene with the thief. But still I thought it was all just a trap to get her to fork over the diamond but nope he was really there all tied up. They could have done a video of him struggling and then I would be like ohhh okay he means business. Idk that was one thing I thought was strange.

Speaking of the villain, he was fine. Nothing to write home about but he fulfilled his villainy tasks and he was pretty threatening at times. Not the best villain ever but he did his job as his role in the story and that’s really all I can ever ask from a DCOM. At least he wasn’t super mustache twisty and crazy like some of the other villains in this line up.

I don’t think this movie has many bad aspects to it, just some little flaws here and there. And now that I know more about the good luck Charlie actress I don’t know if I would watch this movie anymore. Which is a huge bummer because the ending was super sweet and exactly what Morgan needed. The whole movie was pretty good. It ain’t fair lol.

Grading time I guess. Okayyyyyy well I think I was going to have this at an A but I think I’m going to put it in A- just because I don’t think I’ll watch the movie again. Maybe someday but now I’ll just have a bad taste in my mouth every time I see Liz on screen and that’s a problem because she’s one of the leads! Anyway, still an A-range movie but just lower on that scale. Originally I was going to put this above Cloud 9 but I would watch Cloud 9 over this because it was just so much more comforting. But whatever, still A range!!

Alrighty! Next movie is a sequel! Wooooo! And I bet it won’t be nearly as good! (Or necessary) but we’ll see!

[ghost-chance]

A New Lease on Life 1: Amber or Kimber?

This chapter dedicated to Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle, authors of "Inferno," a modern fictional tribute to Dante Alighieri's Inferno. That book's totally worth a read even if you're not a major nerd—like me—even though the sequel sucked.

Trigger warnings:   Language, suggestive language, panic attacks, insensitive remarks.

Suggested Listening: The Rasmus, "No Fear"

---------------------------------------

    1: Amber or Kimber?

---------------------------------------

New York City, January 27th, 2016

The first thing Amber noticed was cold; the second was muffled noises almost like speech, followed by a stabbing ache right above her eyes. After all, she'd received a blow to the head…hadn't she? Details weren't coming to her in that state halfway between sleep and wakefulness. As the throbbing in her head smoothed out, she scoured her memory for answers—answers she couldn't find in the blur that her past had become. Only one thing stood out among the blank space in her history….

She was dead. How she knew this, she wasn't completely sure, but as the headache faded away, fractured memories slowly filled its place. Willsdale—the storm of the century—the school where she'd worked, torn and trashed by EF-5 level winds. Her eyes flew open in fear, searching for any sign of light or life. Blinded by a sudden light, she cringed into the foul smelling heap she lay on. The voices around her grew louder and less muted, then suddenly ceased all together.

Where was she? What happened? How had she found herself in the situation she was in—what was the situation, even? She had no answers—not even the strength to lift her head. Out of the blue, she felt a presence beside her…warm, gentle arms drew her closer and wrapped her in a cocoon of scratchy warmth. This, she could get used to, she mused weakly as she turned to nuzzle into the warm shoulder propping her up.

But nothing good ever lasts…as though summoned by her comfort and calm, a demon she knew too well manifested with a grinding roar. The slow trickle of memories became a torrential downpour—horrifying images flooded her delirious mind. Somewhere in the distance, someone was screaming, screaming as though they were being slowly gutted. The world turned sideways and crossways as the warmth surrounding her fell away; again, she fell to the fetid ground wishing the screaming would stop, wishing the memories would cease. Someone shut it all off, she cried soundlessly, her vocal chords inexplicably stilled.

A pinprick pain sprang to life, quickly becoming a spreading fire. On the heels of the fire, murky fog rolled in, choking out the life replaying before her sightless eyes. She struggled to get her head above water, struggled to breathe. A soft, gentle touch brushed from her brow to her temple then trailed along the line of her cheekbone. Sometime between the beginning of the caress and the whispering that followed, Amber's distorted world was swallowed up by a black void.

New York City, April's loft, January 28th, 2016

"I'm not so sure of this, Casey," a soft voice murmured nearby. Amber twitched at the sound, disoriented and bewildered. She'd died—she remembered now, remembered being in another place—a place of endless nothing set to the sound of a clock's incessant ticking. Limbo, she wondered wearily? "We should've taken her to the hospital—she could be dangerously sick!"

"Hon, ya know we can't," a deeper voice replied. "If she wakes up an' starts jabberin' about giant turtles, it'll be trouble for da guys!"

'Giant turtles?' Amber thought groggily. 'Great, out'a the'afterlife an' into the nut house. At least it's warm, here…an' it smells nice, too.' She burrowed deeper under the scratchy knit afghan with a contented sigh, relishing the sweet fragrance of spiced cider. Later she'd question how she could be alive when she was sure she'd died but for now, she was too comfy to care, even with a splitting headache.

"Hey, she's waking up!" the first voice hissed; damn, no rest for the wicked. "Miss, you okay? You need anything?" Reluctantly, Amber pried open her eyes, fumbling blindly for her glasses; a blurry hand passed them to her and she affixed them to her face, working her way to a sitting position. A woman with dark curly hair hovered before her with a steaming mug of cider and a concerned expression. As Amber finally trudged the rest of the way to life, she reached to scratch her left knee…and found bare skin. Startled awake by the absent clothing, she glanced down at herself in dismay.

Not only were her surprisingly toned legs nearly bare, most of her was bare! The skirt she'd woken in barely qualified as 'mini,' the skimpy top was cut so low her suddenly larger and firmer breasts seemed about to pop out, she was clearly not wearing a bra, and the clunky black boots she wore seemed more for looks than use. The fact that she had somehow lost almost a quarter of her body weight was shoved firmly into a vacant corner of her mind to be dealt with when she wasn't practically naked. Her cheeks flamed bright red as she yanked the afghan up to cover herself up to the chin. "Miss?" April asked in confusion.

"Please tell me I'm not a hooker!" Amber blurted desperately.

"What?" Casey gaped. Undeterred, Amber rambled on in disgust and panic.

"This's so not me—I'm barin' more than I'm wearin'! There should not be a fuckin' draft there, an' I'd never be caught dead wearin' a screw-me skirt. Granted, I like the hoochie boots an' my boobs finally match my ass, but for the love of Mike I'm practic'ly naked!" When she finally realized everything she'd said, she cringed. "Eheh…Sorry…brain-to-mouth filter malfunction."

"I'll say," Casey grinned; April shot him a dirty look, but he just shrugged. "So what's ya name, Miss Not-a-hookuh?"

"Amber," she replied nervously. "Amber O'Brien. An' Y'all?" The other two blinked at the blatant twang in her voice. Was it really so odd, she wondered? The vast majority of her hometown spoke with a much thicker twang than she did, so how could they be so surprised by it?

"I'm April O'Neil," the other woman replied politely as she handed Amber the mug of cider. "This is my boyfriend, Casey Jones." It took a moment for the facts to sink in.

'You're kiddin' me, right?' Amber thought sarcastically. 'What're the odds that I'd die an' wake up in the middle of a movie set?' Instead of acknowledging the elephant in the room, she asked, "Train conductor or Grateful Dead?" Their response was a blank stare. "Sorry. So…uh…how'd I wind up here? Did y'all knock me out'a that jar in the vestibule—or were the jars in Limbo?" She frowned down at the cider searching her scattered memories.

"What jar?" April was at a loss. "Some…friends of ours found you in an abandoned subway station. You were freezing to death. Do you not remember that?" Amber searched her memories, then shook her head with a confused frown.

"No, my memory's…kinda blurry," she admitted. "I remember…a storm…a bad one, worse than I'd ever…" Unbeknownst to her, her words became more and more frantic and stammered, her eyes grew wild, and she started shaking violently. Amber never noticed any of it; next thing she knew, she found herself on the floor in the corner curled in a tiny ball with April petting her hair. "…Wha…What happened?" she asked groggily. The pity in April's eyes annoyed her, but she needed answers.

"Do you have a history of panic attacks?" the reporter asked gently.

"No…I've got a pretty bad phobia so I've had anxiety attacks, but it's never anythin' serious. Why?"

"Well, now you do. Come on, let's get you into something more…covering." As Amber hoisted herself to her feet, her top dipped lower than before, revealing a flash of purple and black. Startled by the sight, Amber never noticed the shocked gasps of her hosts; she was too busy staring in dismay at the coiled purple dragon tattoo nestled in her cleavage.

"We got here as soon as we could," Leo apologized as he climbed over the windowsill. Donatello followed right behind, silently hanging his trench coat on the rack next to Leo's overcoat. "Has she made any progress?" April's worried, tight-lipped frown concerned him, and Casey's frustrated pacing wasn't reassuring either.

"Ya know anythin' about dis chick?" Casey muttered, shooting a glare at April's bedroom door; not long after the tattoo's discovery April had ushered their stunned guest to bed with a mug of tea, a pair of sweats, and a teeshirt big enough to double as a dress.

"We told you everything we knew, Casey," Don replied. "Too little clothing, no sign of substance abuse, hypothermic and possibly homeless, and nearly had a heart attack right in front of us. Why?"

"She's a dragon!" Casey spat, slamming his fist into the nearest wall.

"Casey!" April scolded. "Cool it!" Even as he shook off flecks of dried paint, he growled under his breath.

"You brought us a fuckin' Purple Dragon, Leo, an' she's clearly off her rocker! She—"

"Wait, back up," Donnie interrupted. "Why do you think she's a Purple Dragon? We didn't see a tattoo!" April blushed and avoided his eyes.

"Ya didn't look down her shirt—it's between her jugs." Leo cringed.

"Y-You're joking, right?" he stammered hopefully. "Please tell me you're joking." Casey shook his head with a dark scowl. "Great. —Donnie, where're you going?" His brother was already trudging down the hall, medkit in hand and a determined pinch to his eyes.

"Gang or not, she needs help," he answered firmly. "We don't know her story and we don't know her, and until we do, I, for one, reserve judgment." Without another word, he slipped through the door. Light from the hallway guided him to the bed and the lump curled up on the very edge of the mattress. The hair strewn messily over April's lumpy pillow was red as fruit punch, but now that it was brushed out and down out of the ridiculous updo from before, warm brown roots shone through—it was definitely dyed, and from the looks of it, with Kool-Aid.

Donnie paused hesitantly in the doorway, studying the sleeping woman. She was curled up in a ball but he recalled her figure with striking clarity. So many women were obsessed with being thin, looking thin, and feeling thin, and hid their bodies under too-large clothing if they weren't thin enough for their liking. This woman wasn't thin—quite the contrary, she was voluptuous, with soft, wide hips, a well-rounded rear, a generous bust, and from the looks of it, some extra softness around her ribs, hips, and thighs. Popular culture would have deemed her weight and body type a flaw, but he'd always admired curves; to him, she was lovely. Lovely, he thought sadly, and very much out of reach. It didn't bear thinking about, he reminded himself; he had a job to do, and more likely than not she'd scream if she ever saw him. They always screamed, really.

Don was pleased to find she'd made progress. Her body temperature had risen to a healthy 98.4, her blood pressure and heart rate were normalized, and the color had returned to her skin. Better yet she was breathing normally and he couldn't detect any wheezing, so she probably hadn't developed pneumonia from the conditions she'd been found in. Confident that she'd make a full recovery he slid his goggles back up over his forehead and brushed her hair away from her neck to seek out her pulse.

A sudden spike in the pulse fluttering against his fingertips drew a concerned frown, then a soft gasp tore him from his thoughts. Slowly, warily, he met her eyes—moss green eyes wide open in astonishment and set off by a blindingly red blush. He swallowed noisily, counting down the seconds to her inevitable freak-out.

'Holy Mama Mary,' Amber thought as the tall turtle's hazel eyes met hers. 'If this is Heaven…' "—I must'a been a Sainte!" she finished under her breath.

"Pardon?" Don asked dubiously, releasing her neck. Amber flushed.

"S-Sorry. Brain-to-mouth filter malfunction, jus' ignore it." Pulling the comforter almost up to her chin she dragged her glasses back over her eyes, cautiously looking him over. "Am I…dead?"

"Nope; you gave it your best shot, though," he replied with a cheeky smile. "Unless something changes, you should make a full recovery. So, what's your name?" She blinked several times, scrunched up her eyes and squinted at him, sat up with the blanket pooling around her, then pinched herself on the cheek…hard.

"Ow!" she yelped, yanking her fingers away from the throbbing flesh. "Nope, not dreamin'. Ya mind…?" Donnie was completely nonplussed but shrugged; without another word, she reached one hand out and poked him squarely in the shoulder. He stared back, clearly questioning her sanity. "A'right, Willis," she announced to the room in general, searching every corner she could see. "Ya win. I won't post that video if ya call off yer buddy. Shame really, it was a hoot."

"Video?" Don asked dubiously. Amber smirked.

"Aaron got shite-faced on Scotch whisky an' tried to milk a bull; it disagreed. Now come on out, Willis, this's getting' annoyin'!"

"Of course," Casey grumbled from the doorway. "Now I recognize ya—dat fake accent threw me off. Donnie? Dis's Kimber Bryant; she hangs out with dat little dweeb Daron Williams."

"Daron Williams?! Kimber Bryant?!" she repeated shrilly. "My name's Amber! Amber O'Brien, an' I've always talked like this! The heck're you smokin'?"

"Quit wit' da lyin' a'ready!" Casey snapped. "Raph an' I busted yer ass 'nuff times fer me ta know ya, 'specially with dat tattoo'a yers!"

"Casey," Donatello warned lowly. "Back off, you're not helping." He turned to the green-eyed woman again, troubled by the confusion in her eyes. Poor thing...she really didn't know who she was? "Amnesia, maybe? What's the last thing you remember?"

She only got out one word—storms—before losing her grip on reality. Right before his eyes she paled and shrunk into herself; her eyes grew wide, her breath sped to gasps and pants, and an endless stream of garbled words fell from her lips. Realizing what was happening, Don dug a bottle of homemade smelling salts* from his kit and waved it under her nose, monitoring her pulse with his other hand. Finally, her glazed-over eyes focused fearfully on his, her voice stilled, and her breathing regulated. "I—"

"It's alright," he soothed as he drew back again. "Whatever happened isn't exactly ready to come to light, apparently. Maybe just some questions? Simple yes or no answers, perhaps?" Though she was only growing more and more confused, she nodded, following him to the living room again, the comforter draped around her like a fluffy yellow cloak. April put on the kettle for tea while the rest settled in the living room.

"Kimber Bryant?" Leo asked bluntly.

"No," she replied seriously. "Amber O'Brien. I was born to Douglas O'Brien and Ginny Devon in Willsdale, Missouri, I graduated Willsdale High in May '94, an' I spent the last several years workin' for the school district as a night janitor at Willsdale High. "

"Do you know where you are?" Donnie suddenly asked. "Do you know what city you're in?" Her face fell.

"They said I was found in a subway station, right?" she asked hesitantly. "The only subway I've ever been in served sandwiches, an' had a gas station attached. So clearly I'm somehow not in Willsdale anymore." A violent shiver wracked her shoulders and she burrowed further into the blanket. "Wherever I am now, it's pretty dang cold fer May even with 2011's freaky weather."

Leo and Donnie exchanged a wary glance. "Miss O'Brien?" Donnie said softly, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. "You're in New York City; it's January 27th, 2016."

NOTES

*Smelling salts CAN be used for panic attacks, but should be used VERY SPARINGLY and only in conjunction with other coping skills. If you just use salts—or other 'wake up' devices like sour candies or fireball jawbreakers, for example—and never get to the root of the problem, never work on what has given you panic attacks, they become a crutch and can eventually worsen your troubles. I've never used them myself, so I can't recommend salts. I CAN recommend breathing exercises, fireballs and Altoids, and meditation.

Panic attacks CAN be beaten, and you CAN get PTSD under control enough to live a fulfilling life. Don't give up—you're stronger than you give yourself credit for.

[toukenra]

Hello hello! I just recently found your lovely blog and have had a lot of fun reading through everything. Could I have some reactions from Tonbokiri, Mutsunokami, and Shokudaikiri for a scenario where they accidentally discover that their small female Saniwa loves to sing but is incredibly shy about it (usually sings only when she's alone by herself)? Thank you both for all of your work and I hope you have a nice day!

I’m sorry for being so inactive lately tbh I didnt even touch my laptop (ya shame on me) but I’ve been incredibly stressed and depressed  busy the past days  ヾ(-_-;)  not to mention that I’m infected with writer’s block oh great! And also I’m so deep in Fate Apocrypha and Ikemen Sengoku hell if someone’s willing to save me that’d be much appreciated lol

Coming to this super duper cute request.. well not to brag but I also love to sing and I can even do it three-part: loud, wrong and with confidence! (ﾉ´▽｀)ﾉ♪ (ok ok pls stop throwing tomatoes at me I’ll stop with the bad jokes)

Furthermore I was a little confused because you asked for reactions for a scenario but for me reactions and scenarios are 2 different things so I went for reactions since scenarios would take much more time and effort to write and I’m a lazy bum ≦(.__.)≧ Also I must shamelessly admit that I might be a liiiittle biased when it comes to Micchan so his part turned out a little romantic I hope that’s fine with you!

I really hope you’re going to like this!

Shokudaikiri

he had prepared your lunch for you and was about to knock on your door when he hears you accompanying yourself on the piano

‘.. Even if there isn’t a single fragment of hope there Or if I had to be something that’s not supposed to be The fact that you won’t forget about me I know it better than anyone So, for you, I will dedicate Everything I have now’’

he is absolutely amazed. Thrown back. Shooketh, he nearly lets the plate fall

well he already knew that you could play the piano but never would he have imagined that your voice could sound so pure and angelic

without interrupting you he sneaks into your room and quietly studies how your expressions change while you’re singing to yourself

you’re so beautiful while being so engrossed in your music it greatly intrigues him 

he could just listen to you forever and never get sick of it

you weren’t aware of him staring and smiling at you so he waits for you to finish your play before he starts clapping his hands

‘It is quite fitting that such a beautiful voice belongs to such a beautiful and talented person like you Aruji’

sorely shocked you whirled around just to be met with the sight of the handsome raven-haired Tachi leaning against the doorframe while laughing softly at your flustered face

you were staring at him like you’ve been struck by lightning making him chuckle in delight

‘I d-didn’t know I could be heard. P-please forget what you just saw.. and heard. ’

walking towards you he places the plate in front of you and smiles at you with a tender gaze

‘I understand that you might be shy about your singing but I can honestly say that I have never heard a voice more angelic than yours and I believe it would be an inexcusable crime to hide such a blooming talent Aruji. I dearly hope to hear you sing again.’

he’s so smooth and charming someone please call me an ambulance

his words already flustered you to no ends but when you saw the honest admiration in his eyes you suddenly felt yourself turning into mush inside

not to mention that his low voice was more than pleasant to your ears

everything coming from a man with an eye-patch sounds very convincing am I right?

how could you say no to him, when he pleaded you with that gentle smile and his voice as soft as velvet

‘Well, I-if you like, m-maybe I could sing for you again.’

Shokudaikiri’s handsome face showed his pleasure, making you blush all over again

‘I’m the happiest man in the world to be privileged like that Aruji. So will you dedicate this song to me then?’

I’m not joking please call me an ambulance I’m having a heart attack over here Micchan for the 10000th time PLEASE MARRY ME

This man is perfection

Note: The lyrics were taken from the song My Dearest by supercell ～♪(Anime: Guilty Crown)

Tonbokiri

thanks for requesting this pure teddy bear

It was a faint summer day and the Yari had just finished his sparring with the newly arrived sword Sengo Muramasa 

He knew that you weren’t very fond of the Uchigatana’s tendency..well to reveal himself so openly all the time so he thought that maybe, if he told you about his improving sword skills he could correct your first impression

prepares himself to knock on your door when a soft and tender melody makes it way to his ears

‘Oh, field flower that has bloomed, Ah, somehow, please tell me: Why is it that people hurt each other And fight?..’ 

Is that you singing in your room? But why did you never tell anyone that you liked to sing? Not to mention that he instantly realized just how talented you were

quickly concludes that you must have felt a little bashful about your singing

well he doesn’t want to you to feel uncomfortable by interrupting you if you were so keen on keeping this a secret but what was heard can’t be unheard

being the honest cinnamon roll he is he patiently waits for you to stop singing before he taps the door and lets himself in

After giving his report on Sengo’s tangible progress he decides to unveil the truth

‘I apologize for invading your privacy but actually I heard you singing just before. If you wish to keep this a secret I promise I will never mention it to anyone else but on my honest opinion I believe that you are very talented and that everyone in the Citadel would also enjoy your singing’

you on the other hand were absolutely gobsmacked and unable to form any coherent answer to this sudden confession

but deep in your heart you knew that loyal Tonbokiri would never lie to you, he was honestly believing in you

‘T-thank you for your kind words Tonbokiri. I really appreciate it but could you please keep this to yourself for the time being?’

realizing that you were indeed shy about your singing he concludes to keep respecting your wish

‘Aruji, there is nothing to worry about. I swear on my status as one of the Three Great Spears of Japan that I will keep this to myself. However if one day you wish to sing for everyone else please know that I would wholly support you.’

Note: The lyrics were taken from the song Euterpe by EGOIST (Anime: Guilty Crown)  god I love their music  (ﾉ> ◇    

Mutsunokami

‘Those Shinsengumi swords! Can’t they go and annoy Kanesada for once instead of me?’

Effing and blinding he stomped his way to your room to complain about being put in the same unit with them for the last mission when he suddenly hears you singing passionately in there

‘..If I could have lived Never knowing any sadness or pain I wonder if I would have realized This warmth inside my chest ‘

is taken aback for a second but then he gets really excited

frantically bursts in your office without knocking, making you squeak in horror as your gaze snaps up to him

‘Aruji! I didn’t know you could sing! What is this song called? You sure are something!’

darling haven’t you heard of knocking what if your master was changing in there

you were about to scold him for barging in when you realized that he must have heard you singing

cue tomato-faced Aruji

‘Mutsunokami.. please keep your voice down! You didn’t see or hear anything alright? Please promise to keep this to yourself.’

giving you a quick puzzled look he doesn’t even tone it down

Mutsunokami used puppy eyes. It is very effective

‘But Aruji! Your voice is unbeatable you should let your singing seize the world! Please sing for everyone! ’

you were about to refuse but upon seeing the excited sparkles in his big puppy eyes you can’t stop yourself from blushing intensely

‘D-do you really think my voice sounds good?’

Puppy eyes intensify

‘W-well then.. maybe I will sing for everyone once we have defeated the History Retrogade Army once and for all.’

‘Gahaha it’s a deal, Aruji I won’t forget about it!’

Note: The lyrics were taken from the song KOE by ASCA (Anime: Fate Apocrypha)  ～♪

- Mod Pancake 🥞