#trying to convince myself to let myself just write short oneshots and to stop worrying about not having a million words of context

[ranger-kellyn]

idk. i can't lie. as a writer, sometimes it's weirdly intimidating being Known for a ship or a character. like. oh god what if i sound like a broken record? what if i use basically the exact same words for their kisses in separate stories?? at what point am i jumping the shark?? have i lost the plot??? hello?????? is this thing on?????????

[honeypiehotchner]

Normal (Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader) -- oneshot

I know this is def not my normal content because y’all know I’m a huge Hotch girl, but sometimes I slip back into being a Reid girl. It’s hard not to! I see a lot of myself in him and it led me to write this, so enjoy this (very real, actually) glimpse inside my head in the form of a fluffy Reid story xx.

I listened to “Normal” by AJR a lot while I wrote this!

Summary: Spencer has recently returned to the BAU after a short period of leave, and he comes back to find you, an agent-in-training filling his Resident Genius shoes. He admires you for who you are. You think he hates you. He tries to convince you otherwise.

DR. SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

At first, you thought it was because of the way you read books.

You’ll never forget the first day you met the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid. He had returned from leave for his injured knee (he was shot, you were told) and this was apparently the second time he had attempted to step foot in the office. The first time didn’t go over well when Hotch found Spencer’s file that said his doctor did not clear him for work yet.

Regardless, you were sitting in your desk chair, legs crossed underneath you, “like a human pretzel,” Morgan always teases. You were reading a book, one of your favorites, to pass the time when Spencer walked in.

You knew it instantly because Morgan’s loud and affectionate, “Pretty. Boy!” could be heard all over the BAU.

You didn’t get up from your chair or stop reading -- besides the brief moment when you looked up to see what the commotion was about.

You still remember your internal monologue. Should I get up and hug him like Morgan? No, no, I don’t know him that well. I don’t want to hug anyone today, anyway. Shake his hand? You remember your hand tensing at the mere thought. Okay, not that either. I could wave, but I can’t tell if I even need to. I’ll just keep reading.

You had heard of Spencer before this. Hotch made it abundantly clear to you and the team that you were not replacing Spencer when you joined. You aren’t even officially a member of the BAU yet. You’re on a bit of a trial run, so to speak. That’s how Hotch explained it.

Yes, you were and still are well aware that the timing looks awful. An agent who is vital and loved in the BAU is shot and out of work right as a new, younger, and less experienced but surprisingly intelligent agent steps in for a “trial run” (which no one ever does).

To anyone else, it obviously looks like you were sent here to replace Dr. Reid under the disguise of a short “trial run.”

But that isn’t the case at all.

You thought Spencer didn’t like you because of the way you read books. You immerse yourself in them. You use a pencil to track what line you’re on, so nearly every page has a vertical, light gray line in the margin where the tip of your pencil lead barely grazed the page. You underline keywords and phrases. You draw arrows. You write commentary in the margins.

You thought that was what annoyed him until you saw him highlighting a book and writing in the margins, too. He doesn’t even necessarily need to, especially since he can read so damn fast and remember everything.

That’s also what you suspected -- that he didn’t like you because you could read almost as fast as him.

Keyword here: almost.

You can scan a page and spit the information back out in layman’s terms, sure. But you won’t remember what you read in great detail the next day, sometimes even the next hour -- especially when you were sort of filling the Resident Genius shoes and you’d have to read through stacks of evidence every hour.

You had thought your speed was just another thing Spencer didn’t like because it was just one more thing pointing to the conclusion that you were hired to replace him.

But he doesn’t care. You gladly let him read the evidence and memorize it, but you’ll help him out sometimes by scanning something first to see if it might have what he’s looking for. If it might, then he goes through and catches the fine details.

He’s never once acted as he hates you -- even though you’ve had “friends” who hated your guts and you had no idea (true story: high school is brutal and you were always shocked when your childhood best friend told you how “fake” others were acting toward you). But you’ve tried to look for specific signs, and he shows none of them.

You’re grasping at straws at this point. You’re on a profiling team and you had to Google how to tell if someone hates you. It’s pathetic, truly.

He doesn’t avoid you -- but he also is a really private person like you who likes his time alone.

He doesn’t drop a conversation with you after it’s been started -- but he also rambles so much anyway that you don’t know if he himself is capable of dropping a conversation abruptly.

He doesn’t avoid eye contact with you -- but even that one is tricky because you’re still working on it yourself, and you definitely have some days where you avoid eye contact. Sometimes you can hold it too well, though, and you always wonder if that’s rude.

Going through the rest of the signs that you found on Google goes exactly like that. He hasn’t done it, but then again… There’s always a catch.

It’s exhausting.

It’s a straight week of this before you finally cave and go to the one person you know you can always trust.

“Morgan, does Reid hate me?”

Derek stops stirring his coffee and tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What?” He goes back to stirring before tossing the stick in the trash. “Kiddo, why would he hate you?”

You misread this, too, and think Derek is confirming that Reid has hated you all along. “I don’t know. Why would he? What did I do?”

Morgan pauses, staring at you for a second before he realizes. “Ah, alright. It’s not clicking?”

You and Morgan have this phrase for when things completely fly over your head. “It’s not clicking?” is all he has to ask and all you have to do is nod, and he explains things to you.

So, you nod.

“Okay, listen, he does not hate you,” Morgan says. “I mean that. He’s been struggling to get settled after being out, but he doesn’t hate you. He’s far from hating you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. You do trust Morgan, but somehow his words don’t ease your mind this time. “Should I talk to him about it? Or is that overstepping?” You pause. “I don’t wanna be annoying.”

“Kiddo, you’re never annoying,” Morgan smiles, raising his coffee at you. “I’m serious. And sure, if you think talking to him about it will help, go for it.”

“Okay… How do I ask him?”

Morgan shrugs. “Say you’ve felt like there’s been underlying tension and you want to clear the air.”

“Underlying tension and I want to clear the air. Got it,” you chant to yourself. “Thanks, Morgan!”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Fast forward an hour or two and you finally have enough courage worked up to confront Spencer. The first hour was spent rehearsing what you plan to say and the second was spent rehearsing what you might be asked and what you can say. And finally, you were ready to walk around the set of cubicles to get to Spencer’s.

Spencer looks up when he sees you walking over and he raises his eyebrows. “Oh, Y/N, I just found this really good book about the strategies of--”

“I’ve felt like there’s been a lot of underlying tension between you and me and I wanna clear the air,” you blurt.

Spencer pauses, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Are you mad at me?” You try again.

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Do you hate me?”

“What? No!” Spencer sets his book down on his desk. “Of course I don’t hate you.”

“Oh...okay,” you nod slowly. “That’s...that’s all then.”

As you’re turning around to go back to your, Spencer stands. “Wait, Y/N.”

You raise your eyebrows in question. “Oh, right,” you chuckle nervously. “What book did you want to tell me about?”

“Oh,” Spencer looks down at his desk, then shakes his head. “I’ll tell you that later, I wanted to ask first if...if you wanted to get dinner later? There’s a reading downtown for this new poet and I thought you’d like to go.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Yes, I was actually already going, but yeah. We can get dinner.” You mentally rearrange things in your schedule as you speak.

“Okay,” he smiles softly. “Oh, the book. Here, you can--” He pauses and grabs a chair, rolling it over for you.

Derek watches from his desk as the two of you sit down and Reid starts rambling.

+++

You and Spencer leave straight from the BAU to get dinner before the reading.

One thing you’re grateful for that comes with spending time with Spencer is that you never have to worry about conversation. He carries it and if there’s ever a silence, he fills it. Or, like tonight, the two of you enjoy a mutual silence.

You opted for a table outside on the patio because the dinner rush was crowding the restaurant indoors, and it made the lights seem a little too bright. You could feel a headache coming on when Spencer asked if the two of you could sit outside.

It’s a little chilly outside, so you guys are alone, but you’re both always bundled up, so you aren’t cold. Spencer is always in some form of layers and a scarf, and you are, too. Minus the scarf, though, because some days it doesn’t feel right on your neck (and lately it doesn’t). But you’re always in a sweater and a cardigan.

Winter is your favorite season because of this. You can wear as many layers as you need and not suffer from a heatstroke.

After a quiet dinner (that you actually kind of needed, though you didn’t realize it at first), the two of you walk down the street to the small bookstore where the poetry reading is taking place.

“So, you said you were already coming,” Spencer begins.

“Hm?”

“To the poetry reading,” he clarifies.

“Oh, right,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he says, unfazed. “Do you read a lot of poetry?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’ve always loved it, I think. I write some, too, but I don’t know how good it is. Probably not very since I’m in the FBI.”

Spencer laughs softly. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Do you write poetry?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Not often, but sometimes.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I like it. Not enough to do it for a living, of course. Actually, I almost got a Masters in Poetry a few years ago.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I can’t imagine being a poet,” he says, slowing his steps as you reach the bookstore. “But I guess that’s why I’m not one.”

You’re not sure what else to say, so you stay quiet while he opens the door for you, gesturing for you to go inside.

Bookstores are your forever safe haven. The quiet stacks, the mutual agreement between everyone inside not to speak to anyone else unless it’s dire. Not to mention, being surrounded by words.

Even events like these are small. Every event you’ve been to, you’ve been one of maybe twenty people attending. It’s your Heaven. It’s the kind of social interaction you’re somewhat good at.

Spencer is surprised when you willingly sit in the front. He would’ve expected you to sit at the back, in the middle row, even, but not the front center. He doesn’t question it, though. He just quietly sits next to you.

You pull the poet’s book out of your bag and it’s a well-worn copy. You flip through the pages and Spencer catches glimpses of underlined words, commentary, everything that lets him know this must be your favorite.

“Do you um…” Spencer pauses, waiting until you tilt your head, showing your attention. “Do you come to readings here often?”

“Every month,” you nod. “It’s a weird routine I’ve had ever since I moved here. I went to readings almost every week in college, and I didn’t want to stop.”

“I don’t come to a lot for poetry,” Spencer says. “Mostly novels -- and mostly conventions for academia-based writings.”

“Those have always scared me,” you chuckle, only half joking.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh, just the idea of hundreds of people crowded in a hall. That kind of thing just isn’t my speed.”

“You know, if it’s too scary to go alone, you’re welcome to come with me,” Spencer offers.

“Okay.”

“There’s one next Friday,” Spencer says. “If we’re not out on a case, we can go together, right after work.”

“Okay, yeah,” you smile. “What time?”

“It starts at 7, so we could leave work at 5:30 and get dinner beforehand.”

You mentally begin piecing next Friday together in your head and you nod, thankful for his mention of specific times. “That sounds good.”

Soon the chairs around you are filled and you recognize a few people who smile at you, so you smile back. Before long, the manager of the store is stepping up to introduce tonight’s poet, and Spencer watches you eagerly crack open their book.

+++

Somehow, spending time with Spencer has gotten worked into your routine.

You go with him to academic readings, and he comes with you to your poetry ones. The two of you have dinner together most nights because it’s your routine to eat right after work, and most of the time he’s already rambling about something to you when 5 o’clock hits and you begin packing up your stuff.

Tonight is no different, only this time when you’re walking next to Spencer to the bookstore for another poetry reading, he fills the silence.

“Can I tell you something?”

You pause, but nod anyway, wondering why Spencer is asking this time when he hasn’t before -- not that you can recall.

Spencer takes a deep breath. “I know you thought I hated you, and honestly when you told me that, I couldn’t believe it. Because I don’t hate you and I never have. I...I like you a lot, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you let out a breathy chuckle. “I like you too, Spencer. I’m glad you don’t hate me and thanks for saying it again. Sometimes I need the reminder.”

He chews on his lower lip as he listens to you, and it’s obvious you didn’t catch what he is really trying to say. “Y/N, I mean...I like you. I have feelings for you -- romantic feelings,” he clarifies, watching your face intently. 

You’ve never made the most facial expressions, but when you do, they can be exaggerated. Which is what happens now.

Your eyes widen and you make what looks like a grimace with your lower lip. “I’m sorry,” you say, scrunching your nose. “Have these…have these all been dates?”

Spencer shrugs. “Only if you want them to be. I just like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you, too,” you smile softly. “You don’t hate me for not realizing, do you?”

“Of course not,” he laughs. “But I wanted to tell you because I like being honest with you and...if you feel the same, then...we can go from there, but if not, it’s okay. Like I said, I like spending time with you.”

“I do feel the same,” you blurt. “At least, I think I do. I don’t know. I might need to think, but I know I’m interested and...and I know I really like spending time with you.”

Spencer smiles. “Okay, uh...do you-- Can I hold your hand? Is that okay?”

You can’t help the smile that crawls onto your face in that moment, and you nod.

Spencer stretches out his hand and you take yours out of your pocket, hissing through your teeth for a moment at the cold air, but when Spencer’s fingers tangle with yours, you feel better.

Everything feels better when you’re with Spencer.

[theartofimaginaryfriends]

Halloween Special

Fic series: The Final Straw (HP/PJO Crossover fic)

Premise: Nova and the Stoll's show Fred and George Halloweentown. After that, they try to make Peeves sweat. 

Masterlist

taglist: @ilvermornymascot, @lukecastellandeservedbetter

Word count: 602

A/N: I promised myself that I wouldn’t do another “story break” after the last two chapters but here we are... oops. Chapter 5 is being written and I have a general outline for it, my motivation is now dependant on writing it. This short fic isn’t part of the story itself, but rather a scenario that I wanted to write away from the main story. @lukecastellandeservedbetter and I were watching Halloweentown when this was discussed and thus the oneshot was born. There’s a few details in here that haven’t been introduced yet, but will come up in the next few chapters! Happy Halloween :)

The first weekly movie night in October called for Halloweentown, one of Nova's favourite Halloween movies. They were joined by Fred and George Weasley, who had just opened Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Baypoint Village. Connor and Travis were ecstatic to meet their idols, and the Hogwarts transfers were especially concerned. The four boys combined meant chaos, and it was chaos no one would ever be prepared for.  

Nova kept her eyes glued to the massive screen, not wanting to know if the four of them were causing trouble. After all, the Stoll's pulled a prank on the entire student body last week. She hoped her decision to let the twins join was a good one, but if they convinced Connor and Travis to wreak havoc there was nothing she could do.  

The only time her attention was pulled away from the movie was when Marnie, Dylan, and Sophie went to the Halloweentown Health Spa to collect ghost sweat. Some of the school ghosts were exasperated when this scene played, and others found it amusing. Peeves, in particular, seemed uncomfortable and a little concerned. He glanced over at the Weasley Twins in alarm and disappeared out of the room.  

When the Head Girl turned to look at the boys she'd been worried about all evening, she noticed the four of them conversing. Travis made eye contact with Nova and waved her over. "What the hell are the four of you planning?" 

"Do you think it would be possible to make Peeves sweat?" Connor whispered. "He left the room in quite a hurry, after all."

"He could've left the room because he knows you will try this on him," Nova rolled her eyes.  

"So you won't stop us?" Fred asked.  

"Who are you and what have you done to our dear friend, Nova?" George added.  

"I'm not going to stop you because I know I can't!" She said. "Also I'm curious myself. I want in." 

"Great, we just need a sauna for ghosts and poltergeists," Travis became scheming.  

"I'll ask Leo."  

*** 

Leo managed to build the machine by Sunday and brought it up to a tower for the experiment to happen. Now, Nova sat waiting with the pranksters holding a vial.  

"I won't mess with any of you again." Peeves hopelessly pleaded, unable to escape from the contraption.  

"Doubt it," Nova laughed. "I bet you're hiding dung bombs in that sauna." The poltergeist sneered at her and continued struggling. In no time, steam rose from the contraption, and Peeves slowly began to relax.  

"Woah, it's actually working," Travis looked at it in wonder. "Dude, let's get a closer look." 

The brother leaned into Peeves' face but jumped back when Peeves began to yell again. "Hold on, I think we did something." 

Fred and George joined them in looking up close, grinning ear-to-ear. Nova joins them after fighting her curiosity and watches as sweat began to form. "Oh my god, it's working." 

She opened the vial and waited until it was filled before sealing it. After another fifteen minutes of watching Peeves and ignoring as he swore at them, Nova decided to let him out. When the machine was turned off, and they opened it, Peeves got out of the room faster than you could say 'quidditch.' 

"What do you need that for?" Connor asked Nova, pointing to the vial. 

"I want to see if I can use it as a potion ingredient." She smirked.  

"Wicked," Fred and George said, in unison.  

"Alright," Nova grabbed her bookbag. "I was not involved, saw nothing, and did not approve this in the slightest." 

"You got it, boss."

[danyka-fendyr]

Wildfire - 1

Chapter 1: Bibbity Boggarty Boo

Should I have been writing the next chapter of Absence of Good? Yes. Should I definitely have been trying to write a Reylo oneshot I said I would write weeks ago? Oh, absolutely. But instead I got inspired to start a whole new series based off of Harry Potter, and so here we are. Sometimes I just have to follow where the inspiration leads, and if the several different Reylo drafts just aren’t working out, a George Weasley fic is what happens apparently. Anyway sorry to literally all of my followers who did not ask for this.

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli

Wordcount: 2501

Warnings: Death. Themes of war. Abuse of power. Injury/gore.

Magic is a tricky thing. It is alive in its own way, not a tool but a force, unstoppable and scarcely controllable, wild and bright. If you are lucky enough to see it, to touch it, to have it run through your veins and into your children’s, you can maybe understand something of the untamable nature of magic. It has been argued that magic does not choose, but that it is only transferred, passed down through those of the purest blood. But…over the years, you have come to see different. Much as the wand chooses the witch, you are inclined to believe magic chooses the witch as well, and doesn’t have much to say as far as blood goes.

Convincing Professor Binns of that in the longest essay you had ever been assigned would be considerably more work. The professor could be a bit archaic as far as muggleborn rights went, which was all the more infuriating for you as a muggleborn. However, the man was dead, so you felt you had to give him a certain amount of credit for even still grading papers and teaching class, half-hearted prejudice aside. Binns’ refusal to throw hands with Malfoy, while not perhaps relatable, was at least understandable. You also often found it difficult to feel any amount of passion or human emotion sometimes.

“I just want to go to sleep,” you groaned.

“Awww, is little Y/N tired?”

Fred Weasley cooed over you, clearly unaware of how dangerously close he would be to death if you just had slightly more energy. That being said, you didn’t have slightly more energy, so maybe this was strategically advantageous for him. Nobody ever accused the Weasley twins of being stupid. Well, except for you sometimes.

“Don’t mess with me right now Weasley.”

“Oh no Georgie, she’s using my last name.”

“Our last name, Freddie. Maybe she was talking to me. Y/N dear, which one of us were you talking to?”

“Yes.” Your voice was slightly muffled from where you had just leaned forward into the table, carefully avoiding your freshly inked parchment.

“Well now, that’s not very nice. What did I do?”

“I’m sick and I have the world’s longest paper to write from Binns and I am in turns hot and cold which means the fire is both my best friend and actual Satan.” Also we are on the verge of war. Also the Dark Lord is back. Also there is a pink toad trying to run Hogwarts like a dictatorship. “I’m not in the mood to be messed with.”

You glanced up tiredly, ready to give a baleful glare, only to find a concerned looking George Weasley. Fred hovered behind him, his face also worried as he took in your red nose, watery eyes and miserable countenance.

“Love, why haven’t you gone to the hospital wing?” George asked.

“Because I can’t bring myself to drag my way all the way through this stupid castle just to get a freaking Pepper Up potion. In short, I’m lazy.”

You patted the couch next to you, gesturing for him to sit down so that at the very least he could give you that concerned look in comfort. He sat like he was on pins and needles, which you shouldn’t have been surprised by.

As long as you had known him, George Weasley had never been one not to take action. Fred got much of the credit for being the idea man, but the truth was that if George Weasley wasn’t moving he was dying inside. He was also just a tad bit protective, especially of you.

You attributed this to the fact that when you were a sweet, innocent muggleborn first year you may have lost your temper and managed to completely eviscerate Marcus Flint without ever laying a finger on him. Not that it was hard to emotionally damage a 13-year-old boy with teeth that jacked up. Anyway, Marcus had decided to go for a less pacifistic method of revenge and George Weasley had swooped in to rescue you, Fred in tow. It didn’t take long to become friends with the guys who had saved you from the hospital wing.

You leaned into his side, sniffling quietly, only to have him launch up and swiftly be replaced by Fred trying to prevent you from falling over.

“I’ll be right back,” George said, a determined look on his face and no explanation on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow at Fred. “So, should I expect him back in 5 minutes or 3 hours?”

“I bet you a chocolate frog he’s back in 5 minutes.” Fred grinned.

“That’s not fair. You always win bets about George.”

“I wonder why.”

You rolled your eyes before resuming staring at the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, its warm flames licking the faded brick, staining it soot black, Death Eater black. These days it seemed like everything in your head came back to Death Eaters. And if it wasn’t Death Eaters, it was Umbridge.

You had to admit to being petrified by Umbridge. It wasn’t that she didn’t make you angry. She did. But you also knew what she did to students who misbehaved, had seen the scars settling into Harry Potter’s hand, had once even caught George trying to hide blood from you.

 “Georgie, what’s that?” You stopped him on his way up to the dorms.

You were up late studying, and it was well past the hours any decent human being should be awake. You were up though, trying to puzzle out a potions assignment and meeting with very little success. George, apparently, was also up, and clutching his sleeve in a very odd, suspicious fashion.

“It’s nothing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He turned away from you, framing the arm in question in shadow.

“Did you hurt yourself working on new products again?” You asked, crossing the room to inspect his arm. You pushed the sleeve back, chatting as you went. “You really have to be more careful. I know there’s a lot of demand, but you can’t put your health at risk just fo-”

You gave a small gasp when you saw the words scrawled into his arm, blood still fresh, jagged little bits of skin speckled with red darker than his hair, more ominous. I must not make mischief.

“Who did this to you?” You knew the answer, but you had to ask.

“Really, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Go to bed.”

He tried to pull his arm out of your grasp, but you held on, careful not to hurt him. Gently, you edged a single finger around the clean skin surrounding the wound. Your other hand had found its way into his, fingers lacing together in your horror, tears in your eyes.

She shouldn’t be allowed to do this to him. No one should be allowed to do this to him. This shouldn’t happen to good people like George Weasley. He didn’t deserve it.

“Hey,” he said softly, wiping a tear off your cheek. “It’s alrigh’ love, I’m fine. Just a flesh wound.”

“We should uh..” You took a shaky breath. “We should clean it up.”

You lead him over to the couch, leaving him to wait while you headed to your room and grabbed some spare bandages and ointment from a first-aid kit your mother insisted you take to Hogwarts with you every year.

“We’ll have you better in no time,” You promised with false cheer.

 “Pepper Up potion!” George announced triumphantly. “Fred and I use it all the time when we’re testing products. We’ll have you better in no time.”

You had more reason to be afraid of Umbridge than just what you had seen though. The truth was that while you tended to be docile as a lamb when people attacked you, you didn’t like it when people attacked the people you loved. You had gone after Umbridge and paid the price in long sleeves and muggle makeup, but some mean, dark, spiteful thing inside of you said that every detention was worth it despite the pain.

You couldn’t let the twins know though. If George saw the words carved into the back of your hand and up your arm in your own loops and swirls he would have a fit.

I must not be a know-it-all.

You knocked back the potion quickly, shaking your head vigorously as it burned through you.

“I swear muggle alcohol has nothing on that crap,” You muttered.

“Hey, don’t complain. I just magically cured you of all your ails.”

You snorted lightly, grinning up at him. It was true though. Your stuffed nose and wheezing breaths were gone, replaced by perfect health, more or less.

“My hero,” you said.

“My angel.”

You blushed, shaking your head at him. Always so dramatic, the Weasley twins. Speaking of drama, some seemed to have found its way to you now.

Neville Longbottom ricocheted down the stairs, his face white with terror, as blank as a muggle who’d seen a ghost. If it were any other student, you might have been terrified, but Neville was somewhat more prone to bouts of fright. You stood calmly, smoothing out your robes and reaching casually for your wand.

“You alright there Neville?”

“B-b-boggart,” the boy stuttered.

“Don’t you worry Neville, Y/N will get it sorted. Never seen anyone cast a better riddikulus charm, myself,” Fred said.

“You give me too much credit, Fred.” You were already heading up the steps of the boy’s dormitory though, confident in your ability.

You could hear George speculating on how it must have gone missing from some closet in the deeper reaches of the castle. There were so many nooks and crannies in Hogwarts that there was always at least one boggart somewhere, even if you never saw it. Wand at the ready, you opened the door to Neville’s dorm, knowing exactly what to expect. Except you didn’t find what you expected.

You pulled in a deep breath, legs shaking as you stared at what was before you. It was supposed to be you tied up or in a straight jacket or just generally somehow trapped, your worst fear. Or it had been your worst fear, before you went to war.

His red hair was plastered to his pale face, blank eyes staring. All the light and mischief sucked right out of them. You fell to your knees just outside of the circle of blood pooling around his body, and a choked noise came out of your throat, the only sound you could make.

One of the boys must have heard you, because you vaguely registered Neville calling up to ask if you were okay. You couldn’t answer though, transfixed by the sight before you. You knew you were supposed to riddikulus it, but you couldn’t move.

At some point, the boys must have come up the stairs, because you heard a quiet voice behind you mutter, “Bloody…”

You thought it might have been Fred, but you weren’t sure.

“Come on, angel.”

George’s soft voice filtered through the cold mist that had a grip on your mind, his hands gripping your arms, gently but firmly lifting you back up to your feet. With a flick of his wand, he cast the charm, breaking the boggart’s spell over you as his dead body turned to a comically fake version of the same picture, ketchup and all.

An arm over your shoulders, George steered you away from the dorm as you tried to process the shock of what you’d just seen.

“I never…It wasn’t…It used to be…”

“I know,” George said. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

You shook your head. “Last spring…last spring it was just me being trapped.”

George pulled you closer into his side, and you realized that hot tears were falling out of your eyes and onto his uniform.

“A lot’s changed since last spring,” he said. “It’s alright though. I’m here. Everything is fine.”

You realized with a grateful start that George was leading you back to your own room so that you didn’t have to cry in front of everybody in the common room, shielding your body with his own. The stairs appeared to accept your unspoken desire for him to be here as permission enough as he lead you up them without a hitch.

“It won’t stay fine though,” you managed to work out.

“I’ll still be here then,” he said.

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can. No matter what angel, I can guarantee you one thing. You and I, we’re going to stick together.” He opened the door to your dorm room, blissfully empty as most of Gryffindor tower was out on the first winter weekend with clear skies you’d had in a while. “And Freddie, of course.”

“I thought that was a given,” you joked.

“There she is,” George said, watching you smile a little as you took a seat on your bed.

“It’s just been a little…harder lately.” You defended your tears. “With everything we know and what the ministry’s doing and the Order and Umbridge’s de-”

You cut yourself off, quickly revising your choice of words. “Umbridge’s devastating ability to make me want to kill her.”

George laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’d probably call it high treason against the ministry or something. Say you were in cahoots with You Know Who.”

“Ugh. You Know Boo is more like it. Never met a bigger buzzkill than the Dark Lord.”

“Technically we’ve both had the good fortune not to meet him yet.” George leaned against one of the posters of your bed.

“We will eventually. Then I can tell everybody whether or not Harry was making it all up.”

George stiffened. “You think he’s lying?”

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, a guy with no nose? He had to have made that part up. There’s no way the big baddie doesn’t have a nose. Harry’s just yanking our chain.”

He burst out laughing, sparks flying from his chocolate eyes.

“It would be a good laugh too, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, the best. Positively historic.”

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred’s voice bellowed up from the common room. “What are you two doing up there? Don’t make me call Minnie!”

You heard a chorus of laughter from the common room and groaned.

“Could you please ask him to stop convincing the school we’re dating?”

“I’ve asked, but you know Fred. He can be…”

“Stubborn?”

“An independent thinker.”

You huffed another laugh. “Okay, well you better get down there before he gets everybody to start independently thinking some very inappropriate things about us. I have a reputation to keep, you know.”

“Reputation as a stick in the mud, when we’re not around.”

“You love it. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.”

You watched his scarlet head of hair disappear down the hall, moving like wildfire with each step, and grinned to yourself. You supposed if they were going to spread wildfire rumors about anyone, it would be George Weasley.

[theveryinsignificantpotato]

The Monster called anxiety

Any doctor x reader (though I imagined 10 when writing it)

Okay, here is the thing, I started writing the request and I am stuck, complete writer's block on my end, but I am working really hard to get everything just perfect for you, you beautiful human, but for now I edited this thing I found in my older oneshot book on Wattpad that never got posted. It's not horrible, but it is not what I wanted for you, so I'm using it to buy me a lil more time while I make yours perfect!

Your request is on the way, I am very sorry for the wait!

...

He said he needed something human, some dna. I had been racking my brain to come up with something, assuming he would need a tangible material, like blood or skin. I had apparently been thinking aloud by mistake, rambling about how we could get a knife or something and I could give him just that, going on and on until he finally shut me up with a kiss. And time seemed to stop around me as I processed the feeling of his lips against mine, my body stiffening in shock.

He pulled away relatively quickly with his signature 'I just had a genius idea' smile beaming at me "That'll do, come on now!" He says with the slight hop he does just before he runs in the opposite direction

I took a dazed step in the direction he ran with a hand to my lips. It was only a moment in my daze before I heard him yell "come on!" From the corridor and I shook my head mumbling a small "right, panic later" and running after him.

--

Overwhelmed, that is what I felt in that moment. Finally back aboard the TARDIS after what was by far the most risky adventure he had ever taken me on. I had almost died at one point, and towards the end there I thought he himself had died. Thoughts flew through my mind as I collapsed on the floor upon entering, what if I had died? Worse yet, what if he did? What if I am unable to do it next time? I can't let the defender of the universe die! What will become of everything?

The doctor enters just after me, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of my hunched figure "are you alright?"

I glance at him, returning my eyes to the floor "oh yeah, I'm fine." I say rolling onto my back and allowing my anxiety to consume my entire being "I'm just tired is all." I flash the doctor a smile and he nods, not looking fully convinced.

None the less he turns some knobs and presses some buttons around the console, careful not to step on me as I lay in the middle of the floor.

The longer the silence, the more my thoughts deem me unfit to be a companion to the doctor, dreading the future and hating myself with every new situation my brain comes up with. My hands find their way to my face as the TARDIS takes off, pulling my hair on their way.

I try as the doctor told me before; during the event of an anxiety attack, to go back and show myself all the good I've done. I think of today's adventure, trying to see all the times I did good or that the doctor congratulated me with a "nice one, y/n!", Or "That's my girl!" In his excited voice with a proud smile.  I went through all the events of the day until I got to the kiss, where I stopped. Aand, I'm anxious again. What if it's weird now? That was my first, what if it was bad? Oh my God, my crush took my first kiss without knowing I love him, what if it was so bad he would never consider loving me? What if he doesn't want me to be his companion anymore? Oh God, oh fuck, what if things get too awkward and h-

"Y/n" my thoughts are cut off by his voice

I don't move, taking a deep breath to calm myself before I face him. I just wish I could stop bloody thinking! Christ, I'm shaking like I'm cold!

I can sense the doctor crouching over me, and the worry radiating from him. "Y/n, you are shivering and crying, what's wrong?" He asks

I hesitate for a moment before dragging my hands down my face to find my cheeks wet with tears "o-oh, I didn't even realize." I stutter, looking from my now damp hands to the doctor's features, etched with concern "Just anxious, is all. I made a mistake today and if you hadn't been there at that moment I would have screwed everything up. Makes me wonder what I will do in future adventures with you. What if I get you killed?"

He shakes his head "you won't." He says softly "You were brilliant today, too, without you it'd have been a disaster" he adds, offering me a hand.

I let out a sigh, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet. He guides me to a sit by him on the floor by the console, our feet dangling over the lower level from the slight ledge. He sit for a moment in the quiet, each of us in our own heads before I finally speak up "I wish I could just stop thinking." I admit suddenly, causing the doctor to look at me

"Why is that? You're brilliant, it'd be a shame for that to end." He says

"It's not that, it's my thought processes, it's the anxiety. One thought, one screw up and then I'm on to the next in my mind before I see any good. I'm a little slow today, who's to say tomorrow I won't get someone killed? Every day my anxiety plagues my life like this and I can't get rid of it." I ramble, raking my fingers through my hair "sometimes I wonder if I'm even fit to be your companion, I really truly adore traveling with you, but every day I am just waiting for my next failure, waiting for the moment you finally drop me on Earth for the rest of my pitiful life. Surely it'd be better for you."

The doctor takes a breath "Listen to me, you and I, we fight monsters day in and day out, you and your brilliant mind sometimes even come up with plans to defeat then before I can, and I know what a huge monster anxiety is. The issue with this monster is I can't fix it, all I can do is try to help you. You are so very strong, so very smart, and you know that you are important, don't let it convince you otherwise."  He says, taking my hand and squeezing it lightly

The tears return, and I wipe them with my free hand. I'm so pitiful.

"This, this is why I'm a burden, I'm sitting here crying and making you stay with me when you could be helping someone"

He shakes his head "This is a time machine, y/n, you aren't being a burden. The only burden with your anxiety is that it is hurting the person I care about." He says, wrapping an arm around my shaking frame "come here"

I lean into his embrace, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. He gently rubs his hand up and down on my shoulder, resting his chin on my head and I take a breath, listening to the beat of his hearts to calm me. "Thank you, Doctor." I say softly after a moment

"Ah, don't mention it." He replies, holding me tighter. I can hear the smile in his voice "Anything you need, love."

I sigh contently, finally feeling the weight of my anxiety leave me here in the doctor's arms. I sniffle a little, removing one of my arms from his waist to wipe the tears away from my cheeks before returning it to hug him tighter.

He gives a short laugh, removing his grip to allow me room to sit up and resume my sitting next to him. I do so, releasing him so I can rub my eyes of the remaining tears before giving him a tired grin. He smiles back "are you alright now?" He asks

I nod "sorry about that, It's been a long day." I say sheepishly

"Ah, we've all been there. No worries!" He says with a small smile "let's go somewhere nice, a lovely place for our next adventure. I know of this planet where in the evenings the sky glows a gorgeous cobalt blue, reflected in the many lakes, shallow like reflection pools, it has more stars surrounding it than any other planet and you can see them in the sky and on the water simultaneously, as if the whole sky is surrounding you, I think you would simply adore it. What do you say?" He rambles for a moment, looking at me with his awe filled eyes as he talks.

I can't help but smile "that sounds lovely." I reply, imagining the scene he described

"Great! I'll set our coordinates to go there now!" He exclaims, beginning to stand when I grab his hand to stop him

"U-uh Doctor, before we do that, I-" I stutter, and he gives me an odd look

"What is it, y/n?"

I avoid his eyes, standing up in front of him "Before we go I need to ask you something, it's about the last adventure, and I know why you did it, I don't need you to explain yourself, but if I don't get this off my chest and ask you I think I'll go mad." I ramble, rubbing my arm and continuing to avoid his confused gaze "B-but it's about that kiss today."

"That was to get a dna sample, it was critical that I had human dna in order to-"

"No, no, I understand that" I interrupt "but ah- it's stupid." I shake my head "T-that was my first kiss, and I get that it was meaningless to you, just part of the mission, but to me it wasn't. And I know it's dumb but I have to say-" I hesitate, taking a breath and attempting to ignore the look on the doctor's face "I think I'm in love with you, doctor" Oh my God that sounds so cheesy out loud I can't help but laugh a little "s-sorry, you probably hear that a lot"

I can't begin to describe the look on his face when I finally looked at him, it was weird like a mix of confused and trying not to laugh. I feel so embarrassed in this moment that I want to die. He didn't say anything at first, just took a step forward and put a hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes as if searching for something. I couldn't help my slight shaking as I anticipated his next movement, not even remotely expecting him to do as he did.

As I watched his eyes his unreadable expression softened, and his free hand placed itself on my chin to tilt my head up towards him. A small smile played on his lips as he leant down to my level, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. My first instinct was to tense up, but I quickly relaxed, closing my eyes and kissing him back.

This one lasted longer than the first, and it was sweeter. When he finally pulled away I opened my eyes to be greeted with his perfect smile, "alright then! Off we go!" He cheers, running to the console with the same hop in his step.

I was dazed once again, my breath hitching as I watched him "wha- Doctor!" I whine, unable to help the smile creeping at my lips

He looks up at me, his hand on a switch and a brilliant smile on his face "allons-y!" He cheers, flicking the switch to initiate the TARDIS' take off

[thejokersenigma]

Harley Quinn x Reader - Oneshot Request - Tattoo

Ok, I’ve had this request for ages, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it!

Request: I know that you have a lot of requests at the moment, so feel free to ignore this. I had a small idea for a reader x Harley: reader gets a tattoo of Harley's name in secret for Harley's bday but things go wrong when they try to hide it from her and she thinks they're ignoring her by not being close with her anymore. A fluffy ending maybe? If you want, you can add some smut in as well. I love the things you have written so far, if you find inspiration in this, maybe you can write just something?

I just stuck with fluff rather than smut if that’s alright? I’ve kind of been writing this on and off and it’s only short, but I hope it’s not too bad and I hope Harley isn’t too Ooc!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey, Sweetie…” Harley cooed, suddenly appearing behind you. You spun around, surprised to see her, and even more surprised at how close she was. Her hands automatically went to your hips, wanting to pull you intimately close, but you immediately flinched away from her hands. Harley didn’t move her hands, frozen and blinking in surprise at your reaction. “Sweetie?” She pouted in concern.

“Uh – sorry, Harls.” You mumbled awkwardly, glancing away. “I – uh – you just surprised me.” You confessed, hoping if she couldn’t look directly into your eyes, she wouldn’t be able to see the lie in them.

Harley didn’t seem completely convinced – unsurprisingly – by your poor excuse yet blinked a few more times before seeming to let it go, her face smoothing out again. “Well, I know a way ya can make it up to me…” She hinted, something flashing in her eyes as she stepped toward you again suggestively, her hands reaching for your sides again.

You instinctively stepped away from her again and this time Harley wasn’t able to hide the hurt on her face. “Whats ya problem?!” She demanded with a scowl.

“I’m just – uh – I mean – I’m – I’m just not in the mood.” You stammered awkwardly, turning away and running a hand through your hair before rubbing the back of your neck.

Harley eyed you sceptically, knowing nothing you were saying or doing was at all like you. “What did I feel?” She asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at your side.

“Bandages.” You said quickly, thinking at least some truth might help your case. “I – uh – I knocked myself up a bit last night, s’all.” You mumbled with a shrug. “Some naïve idiots thought to try to jump the innocent girl walking on her own - they – they paid the prize,” You reassured her, “But I was blinkered on my right.”

“Always are.” Harley muttered disapprovingly, and you nodded like this was sage advice. You knew it was something she always picked up on so, conveniently, this lie might be more palatable. Harley’s eyes flickered to your side again as though she could see through your shirt. “Felt like plastic though…” She muttered more to herself than you.

“Meant to stop by the chemist – we’re out of bandages.” You confessed, noting to yourself that you would have to ditch the ones you did actually have.

Harley continued to frown at your side for a few more seconds. “Fine, whatever.” She eventually dismissed with a wave of her hand as though she no longer cared. She moved as though to walk past you, “Ya better heal quick, though sugar…” She murmured, slowing at your side to lean in close to your ear, trailing her fingers along your jaw.

You turned your head to watch her over your shoulder as she then sashayed away down the hall from you, purposely – you thought – swinging her hips. Despite the frustration you felt from having to turn her away, you still breathed a small sigh of relief, lifting your shirt to check the new ink that ran across your right hip.

You glanced worriedly back down the now-empty corridor. Your excuse had been lame - and you hated to see the hurt or worry on Harley’s face - but you might just have bought yourself the time you needed until her birthday

“So, ya feelin’ betta?” Harley asked eagerly, bouncing down on the sofa next to you. You blinked at her sudden appearance, having through she’d gone out for the evening to the Pact’s hideout without you.

“Oh – um – getting better I think.” You admitted, shifting in your seat and trying to wince to show you were just being brave for her and were actually in no better state than before.

If Harley noticed, nothing in her face registered it, but instead of suggesting anything risqué like you expected, she just seemed to be seeking a cuddle – though the grin on her face made you wary. You agreed anyway, curling an arm around her as she snuggled into your side to watch the movie you’d put on.

It wasn’t long though till – as you had predicted – you felt her lips press into the base of your throat. You could feel your skin prickle under her breath as it blew lightly across your neck as her mouth travelled up to your jaw, pressing light, feather-like kisses as she moved. You couldn’t help tipping your head back to grant Harley better access to your throat and she happily obliged, now even nipping gently at the delicate skin. She had you so distracted by her touches in fact, that it was almost too late before you realised her hand – which had been casually laid over your chest - had now slid down your stomach and was slowly moving towards the edge of your shirt -

You caught her wrist almost harshly, and Harley jumped in surprise, the surprise on her face quickly being replaced with an annoyed pout. “Sweetie.” She protested with a scowl, sitting up and pulling away from your side. “Ya still not feeling it? Really?” She demanded, “Whatta ya do, lose a kidney?”

“Harley –“ You tried.

“Ya know what, I don’t wanna hear it.” She growled, holding her hands up in defeat, “Ya don’t want me? Fine. Ya don’t got me.” She stated firmly, pushing herself to her feet.

“Harley.” You called after her in exasperation, making as if to go after her, but faltering when you could see she was already flouncing angrily out of the doorway and you would have no chance of getting her to listen.

You sighed loudly, dropping back into your chair.

Well this wasn’t going to plan at all.

 You decided to let Harley cool off. You knew in the state she had been in, she wasn’t going to be approachable, let alone in a mood to listen to what you had to say.

And you did plan to tell her the truth now.

You had been excited about your plan for her birthday – now only three days away – but you weren’t sure it was worth this. You’d originally planned for the tattoo to be done closer to the day, less time then for you to have to hide it – and yourself - away from Harley. However, time constraints and limited appointments left you having to spend nearly a week trying to avoid Harley frequent advances - something you never did, and something that clearly alarmed and annoyed Harley.

You just hoped it would blow over if you told Harley the truth – you didn’t think it was worth the risk of what it would do to your relationship if you tried to avoid her any longer though.

Hopefully she’d still appreciate the present even if it was a bit early.

Or at the very least she would forgive you.

You honestly couldn’t believe how much this had backfired, you thought, shaking your head at yourself as you headed across the hideout you and Harley often frequented. You’d left it till that evening to try to seek her out with the idea of leaving it long enough for Harley to calm down, but not too long that she would wind herself back up again.

You also hoped you’d be able to catch her before she decided she couldn’t stand her office any longer and tried to escape out to the streets for the night to blow off some steam.

‘Blowing off steam’ for Harley could mean anything from ending up dancing and flirting ridiculously all night, to blowing a few skulls to pieces in front of a police officer. Neither side of that scale particularly thrilled you right now and would both leave their own messes to clean up in the aftermath…

“Harley!” You called, catching sight of her now emerging from her room – often referred to as her office – dressed, as you predicted, to head out for the evening. She seemed to completely ignore you, her head held high as she strode past you. You rolled your eyes at her childishness, spinning around and lightly jogging after her, reaching out to catch a hold of her arm and stop her for just a moment.

When Harley felt your hand begin to pull at her, she immediately whipped around, rounding on you with a dark look. “I’m goin’ out.” She growled moodily.

“Harley,” You insisted almost annoyed as she pulled against your arm to turn away again. “Harley!” You demanded, tugging her to a stop, more harshly than you had meant, and Harley stumbled backwards a couple of steps into you. You saw the opportunity, immediately wrapping your arms around her in a plan to both steady her and hold her in place to stop her storming off again.

Harley blinked in surprise for a second before her scowl returned. “Whattya want?” She muttered bitterly, resigning herself to the prison of your arms without much argument.  

“Let me explain myself.” You urged her desperately.

Harley crossed her arms under where your arms were wrapped tightly around her chest, seeing to consider this. “Fine.” She mumbled eventually, and you could almost her fire dying down. “But only ‘cause I thought ya loved me, and I wanna explanation.” She mumbled sullenly.

“I do Harley!” You insisted, tightening your hug around her in reassurance, “That’s why I want to explain this whole thing! It’s a mistake – a huge, horrible mistake and it’s all my stupid fault!”

“You’re damn right it is.” She muttered, but you thought you could see her face lighten slightly now, the scowl lines not looking quite so deep anymore. When you didn’t say anything more, she unfolded her arms with a sigh, letting them drop in defeat. “What did ya do?” She muttered reluctantly, but you could tell she had practically forgiven you already.

“I got you a birthday present,” You told her, loosening your hold on her so she could now spin in your arms to face you. “And I wanted to keep it a secret, but you were making it impossible.” You accused with a tiny, playful smirk, wary as to how Harley would take you attempt at a joke. “It was a tattoo.” You murmured when her expression didn’t seem to change. You released her to pull up the corner of your shirt to reveal the ‘Harley’ written in cursive over your hip. “My first one.”

Harley’s reproachful look dropped to the word scarred into your skin, but didn’t say anything, as though thinking how to respond. “You never were any good at keepin’ secrets.” She muttered finally, her stony expression crumbling and when she glanced back up to you, you could see her eyes were now filled with relieved tears. The next thing you knew, Harley had flung her arms around your neck, making you drop your shirt back into place as she pulled you into a choking grip.

“Well neither are you.” You pointed out weakly at her shoulder, your voice coming out croaky with emotion you didn’t realise you felt. It suddenly seemed to hit you that you’d actually come close to losing this crazy clown girl in your arms – a thought you could bear. You threw your own arms quickly back around Harley, hugging her tightly against you again and thinking you never wanted to let go. You could feel the tears slipping out of your own eyes now as the two of you stood in the middle of the hideout, clinging on to each other desperately and sobbing on the other’s shoulder.  

Tags for Everything: @angelicshinigami@sheldonsherlocktony @beautifulbows924 @arkhamsurviour @thatwriterizzy @wanna-see-my-lease @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @nerdybirdyfiz @jemjem-chan

[natasha-cole]

Nat’s Fic Masterlist

Series

Cautionary Fairytale Miniseries- Rob Benedict x Reader- New!

Focus- a Rob x Reader, Chris x Reader collaboration

#1 Crush- a Rob Benedict x Reader series- New!

What Happens in Vegas- a Rob Benedict x Reader series

Worlds Collide- A Billy Moran x Reader series

That’s What Friends Are For- A Rob Benedict x Reader Series- Finished.

They Ain’t You- 6 part Rob x Reader miniseries

Hey Bartender Series- Rob Benedict x Reader- Finished.

Ready Steady Series - Rob Benedict x Reader- Finished, oneshots ongoing

Like the Heart Goes Series- Rob Benedict x Reader, Adam Fergus x Reader- Finished.

Perfectly Imperfect - a Rob x Reader soulmate AU

Perfect Match Part 1: Looking for Love

Summary: Reader has joined an online dating site to get herself out there, and to hopefully get over her crush on the man that she has no chance with. After a few matches, she finds that she has connected with one man in particular on very different levels compared to all her other matches. He could be the one. During a convention weekend, she decides to meet her mystery man for the first time; she just didn’t expect to already know him.

Rob Benedict Oneshots:

Best Idea You Ever Had

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about Rob’s tongue… it may get her into an interesting situation. Smut. That is all.

Cool If I Come Over

This is a songfic I guess, and completely unedited as I just challenged myself to write straight through without stopping. I was listening to Cool If I Come Over and just started writing. I’m also trying to get used to writing short stories, so this was difficult for me.

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

Summary: You and Rob only meant to get back at your friends for the years of jokes and teasing they put you through. When you agreed to help Rob, you didn’t realize he’d take it this far.

Reunion

Summary: She isn’t sure she can keep holding on to a love that comes and goes. Maybe he can remind her why it’s worth holding on to.

We’re Just Friends

Summary: She knows that they’re just friends; but between the subtle flirting and that brown leather jacket, she’s having a hard time keeping her real feelings locked up.

One Moment

Summary: Sometimes, you only get one moment. Will he make the most of the one he has?

Reason to Love L.A.

Summary: Rob lives in L.A., Reader is from a small town. Long distance relationships are hard to work through, but maybe he can convince her that L.A. might have more to offer her.

Magnolias and Whiskey

Summary: It’s a perfect day for a wedding.

Magnolias and Whiskey Part 2

When You Look Like That

Summary: Rob and Reader have been dating. A lot. Rob has remained such a gentleman; conversation, compliments, and kisses on the cheek. Reader knows he’s awkward and nervous, he can’t help that he’s moving so slow. So she decides to take matters into her own hands.

Came Here to Forget

Summary: Reader is still reeling after a breakup. So is her friend, Rob. Self-medicating helps, but maybe all they really need is each other.

Kiss Me Like a Stranger

Summary: Rob meets a beautiful woman at a bar, thinking he has no chance in hell with her. He offers her a little conversation and a little flirting. He never thought he’d get this lucky though.

This Could Be Fun

Summary: An adventure on an inflatable lounger does not go as planned.

Aloha, Beautiful

Summary: Reader attends Hawaii con and makes a point of lei’ing Rob, in more ways than one.

Wet

Summary: Reader looks forward to a relaxing shower. Rob has some other ideas in mind.

Say You Love Me

Summary: Rob is really into the Reader, but she and Rich are so obviously crazy about each other. Will a game of Truth or Dare reveal something else? 

This Winter’s Night

Summary: Reader is cold, and Rob knows just what to do to warm her up. (P.S. this is not at all smutty like the summary makes it sound! It was tough to not make it smutty too…)

Birthday Surprise

Summary: Reader’s December birthday is always overlooked because of the holidays. This year, even Rob seems to have forgotten.

Unwrapped

Summary: Reader is feeling a bit frisky in her holiday lingerie. She has no one in particular to wear it for; until she accidentally sends sexy pictures to the wrong person.

Blue Christmas

Summary: What do you get when you mix Elvis, mistletoe, and a slow dance? Tooth rotting fluff with no point, that’s what. 

One More Gift

Summary: Rob’s gift wrapping is sort of annoying. But, it’s what’s inside that counts.

It’s Complicated

Summary: It’s New Years; and you are reflecting on how much you really just can’t stand Rob Benedict.

I Hate Love Songs

Summary: You hate all things romantic. Well, most things anyway.

Take a Drunk Girl Home

Summary: Drunken flirting is never a good idea. Hopefully Rob can make the right decision when Reader makes him an offer.

Roll Me Over

Summary: Reader is talked into checking out a band that she’s never heard of before. Who knew she’d be checking out the mysterious lead singer too, and that it would lead to a night she won’t forget?

The Best Medicine

Summary: Reader is sick. All she needs is a little TLC from Rob.

Room For One More

Summary: Rob comes home to reader having a bath and decides to climb in too.

Be Gentle

Summary: A short ficlet for a request about Rob’s floppy hair.

First Time for Everything

Summary: Rob is feeling like a failure. He’s certain he’s the worst husband ever and an even worse father for missing literally every big moment in his child’s life. A little surprise could turn his entire weekend around though.

365 Days

Summary: There were 365 declarations of love. One for every day he’s known her.

You Ruin Me

Summary: Reader has some strange kinks… Rob is happy to partake.

Not Interested

Summary: Reader is just trying to enjoy a night out with her friends. She may also be trying to get the attention of Rob, who happens to be painfully shy around Reader. When Reader finds herself in a scary situation with a stranger at the bar, Rob’s usual awkwardness is pushed aside when he feels the need to protect Reader.

I’ve Got You

Summary: Reader is generally clumsy. She just hoped she could avoid showing that side of herself to her crush. However, one bad injury and one damaged ego later; maybe she’s feeling okay with Rob witnessing her clumsiness.

Prowlin’

Summary: A newly single Rob is on the prowl for a hook-up. He didn’t realize that the one-night stand that he chose for the night was going to end up being Briana’s younger sister.

What Went Wrong?

Summary: After a really bad date, Reader turns to the only person who will answer his phone. Unfortunately, she and Rob have a past; a past that he hasn’t moved on from, and neither has she. A long car ride allows them to reconnect and maybe figure out where they went wrong in the first place.

Sweet Talker

Summary: A first date on Valentine’s Day is not the time to lose your voice. Luckily, Rob finds another way to converse with his date.

It’s The Little Things

Summary: Reader is having a terrible weekend at con. Nothing is going right and she feels like a failure at every thing she does. Rob makes it his mission to do nice things for her; giving her little gifts and compliments when he sees that she’s feeling down. Little does Rob know, it’s those small gestures that turn everything around.

Baseball and Boo-Boos

Summary: Green room baseball almost always ends in property damage and fights; no one expected that this round would end this way though.

Surprise?

Summary: It’s Reader’s birthday! There’s some miscommunication on exactly what the surprise is supposed to be.

Unplanned

Summary: Rob has big plans for his future with Reader. When those plans get derailed, Reader surprises him with something completely unplanned.

Let Me Show You How It’s Done

Summary: Reader is tired of watching Rob’s on-again, off-again girlfriend string him along and hurt him. Worried that he’ll end up taking her back, yet again, she decides that it’s time for someone to show him what he’s missing out on.

Breakup Sex

Summary: Reader isn’t even sad about catching her boyfriend cheating on her. She’s angry. Mostly she’s angry about the time wasted on him when she could have been with someone else.

Excuses

Summary: Reader has a lot of excuses for avoiding the way she feels about Rob. She shares her feelings through song during a performance, which prompts Rob to finally call her out.

Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Reader has been Rob’s dirty little secret for some time now. Something has to change.

Neglected

Summary: Reader is busy. She knows she’s been neglecting Rob lately, so maybe she can forget her responsibilities for one night.

Waiting For You

Summary: Rob and Reader have an agreement. They are each other’s fake boyfriend/girlfriend when they need help ditching people who are getting too close. Rob seems to be abusing the privilege though, and Reader just might want something more.

Chuck Shurley Oneshots

You Saved Me

Chuck Shurley x OFC request

Will You Still Love Me?

Summary: Can love really last a lifetime? What happens when years pass, looks fade, and youth becomes a long lost memory? Does all of that matter if your true love happens to be God?

Little Red and The Frog Prophet

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a fierce hunter who was feared by every monster that encountered her. It was in her nature to hunt; but she is assigned the job of babysitting the Prophet Chuck to protect him from Heaven and Hell. While Chuck writes the Winchester Gospels, reader finds solace in a collection of fairy tales that she often reads out loud to Chuck on particularly boring evenings. She wakes up one night to find that she has slipped into some sort of mixed up fairy tale dream that she can’t get out of. Is it a spell? Or is it a trick that’s keeping her here?

I’ve Never...

Summary: Reader takes Chuck to the beach for some R&R.

Wake Up

Summary: Reader has the ideal life with Chuck; they are together, their friends are happy, life is perfect. She feels like she’s forgotten something though… something that could shatter the perfect world that she lives in.

It’s All About the Follow-Through

Chuck Shurley AU

Summary: Chuck works at a fancy golf course. He’s used to the stuffy old people that come through the course regularly; but one day, a young, pretty girl shows up and Chuck is sure she has no business being there. But, she’s not what he expected at all, and maybe she’s got a lot that she can teach him.

Not Rob Benedict Oneshots

Captchas Are a Bitch

Summary: The whole Robot Mike thing is just a joke, right?

Who Said You’d Be Alone on New Years? 

Summary: Reader gets sick on New Years Eve. Maybe it won’t derail her plans with Billy too much though.

My Brother’s Best Friend

Summary: Reader is Rob’s little sister. She happens to be dating Billy, much to Rob’s dismay… but he better get used to having Billy around.

Divorce and Dating 101

Summary: Dating is difficult. It’s even more difficult when you’re an adult who has forgotten how to date. Reader and Rich have been carefully navigating their relationship secretly; a relationship that Rich wants to be more open with. Reader reflects on the difficulties of her divorce, her friends constant insistence on setting her up with random men, and the moment that she found what she didn’t know she was missing.

Kittens, Crayons, and Coffee

Summary: Rich is pretty crazy about Y/N. The possibility of dating her is a bit scary, especially since she’s a single mom and he has no idea how to handle kids. When Y/N asks for Rich’s help when she is in a bind; Rich finds himself at her house, babysitting her young daughter. He figures he can gain points if he’s involved with the kid. The sweet little girl he’s fairly familiar with however; thinks she’s a cat 90% of the time, has a knack for drawing on things that she shouldn’t, and likes to terrorize her babysitters.

How’s the Weather Up There?

Summary: Rich doesn’t quite measure up to his crush. No, really. She’s a lot taller than he is.

Crazy Love

Summary: Billy is willing to move out of his comfort zone if it means being able to show Reader what she means to him.

Just a Kiss

Summary: Reader has finally agreed to perform at SNS with the band and she’s a nervous wreck. Since Rob is too busy to rehearse with her, Billy is there to at least play guitar and help her through it. A private rehearsal between the two leads to an unexpected duet and an even more unexpected connection.

Here Come the Snakes (Seeing is Believing)

A Louden Swain/ Supernatural crossover?… AU?… I don’t even know, my dudes.

Summary: Louden Swain perform their much coveted song, Here Come the Snakes, to a club filled with fans. Little did they know; Billy’s sweet guitar riffs, coupled with the hypnotizing kazoo solo later in the show; they would end up summoning demon snakes from Hell. Now, the band and their fans are trapped, unable to escape the venue as the snakes terrorize and begin to claim lives. It just so happens that Sam, Dean, and Castiel are in the neighborhood on a case when they hear the screams coming from within the club. Castiel knows exactly how to exorcise the demon snakes; but it’s going to require cooperation from a terrified band that only wanted to rock.

200 Writing Prompts List Challenges

#93 with Rich- “Are you high?”

#16 with Rob- “I never meant to hurt you.”

92&49 with Rob- #92- “Are you drunk?”#49- “Let’s have a baby.”

#77 “Are you jealous?”

#162 “Make me.”

Random Drabbles

My Marks Suit You

You look too good from behind

This is what you wanted

I think I love you

Bad dream

how are you gonna reach me?

Were you ever going to tell me?- Matt

Are you wearing my shirt?

You deserve better

We can’t keep doing this

God bless that ass

you knew who I was

Were you ever going to tell me?- Rich

I think I know how to use a bed

Take something off

Just kiss me

Stay the night

Called it, fucker

Shut your mouth

You are infuriating

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

More than Just a Game (World Cup ArgMex oneshot)

A/N: I wrote this quite a while ago during the world cup. I wanted to write about these two more than I had already. 

So, that’s the necessary context. Also, the below story is rated M, fair warning.

Mexico hugged his coach first and then hugged each of his players in turn. He didn't care about Croatia, who was standing on the other sideline looking at the ground with a sense of shellshock. Mexico could hear the roars of the crowd, raucous and wonderful. He could feel the joy of his people at this victory surging through his blood. It was always a fantastically exhilarating feeling to have his entire populace rejoicing at a national victory. He looked around the stadium one more time to see the masses of green-clad people wearing sombreros and face paint all cheering and hugging each other. He put up both of his hands, closed his eyes and tipped his head back. He let the sound and the feeling wash over him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was standing almost alone. The team had moved on into the tunnel and the sounds of joy were moving out of the stadium. Mexico decided that he should probably leave the stadium, as much as he wanted to just stand here on the pitch and soak in this moment. After almost not qualifying, making it into the round of 16 was phenomenal. Above that, he had done far better than anyone had predicted. He turned and walked across the sideline until he reached the tunnel back into the depths of the stadium. He reached up and wiped sweaty locks of hair off his forehead. It was just habitual, not that anything was actually bothering him at the moment. He walked casually down the tunnel.

When he reached the perpendicular wall at the end where the hallway turned, a hand closed around his wrist and he was whipped around quickly. Before he completely registered what was going on, lips were pressed against his own. He put his hands on the broad shoulders and gently pushed the person away. He opened his eyes and looked up at Argentina, who was towering over him with a sheepish smile. Argentina spoke softly in his deep rolling voice, "I mean: Hi. That probably should have started with that." Mexico laughed, relieved to see one of the countries he actually felt comfortable making out with, "Dios mios, Juan. You shouldn't surprise me like that"

He took a tiny step back to get a better look at Argentina. The taller man's blonde locks were ruffled in a way that made him look even more charming. Mexico noticed that the black roots of Argentina's hair were starting to grow out again, which meant it was about time for the hair to be dyed again. For once, Argentina wasn't wearing sky blue. He was wearing a white shirt with green piping. This slight change of color palate made Mexico wonder. Argentina responded taking another step forward to close the space between them, "Actually, what I should say is welcome to the group of 16. You had me a little worried with that first half."

Mexico raised one of his eyebrows and reached out to grab the green edge of Argentina's sleeve "Oh? And was this for Isabella or me. I know there was another game going on in Brasilia." The other laughed and leaned forward so that their foreheads were almost touching, "And if I was supporting Brazil, why would I be here to greet you with a kiss?" Mexico felt a sense of intrigue start to blossom in the back of his mind. Considering how invincible he felt right now, Argentina was presenting a pretty tempting target. The thrill of winning was still rushing through him and it couldn't possibly be doing good things for his sense of caution. The other could apparently see the thought process behind the Mexican's eyes and said, "I did come here to invite you back to my room for the night. I thought I would make an attempt at the usual small talk, but you know me, I'm not as charismatic as you are."

He reached out and put his hand under Mexico's chin and continued, "And don't you dare tell me that you have to go meet Alfred, we both know he's a fool that will believe whatever you say." Mexico hadn't actually been thinking about making an excuse, with the feeling of victory still intoxicating him, he was only thinking about how to get what he wanted. Right at this moment, with those melting brown eyes fixed on him and that beautiful voice filling his ears, there was only one thing he wanted. Without any hesitation, he put his hands on either side of Argentina's face and pulled the other into a kiss. Their lips immediately meshed together. Mexico pulled away for a moment to say, "I wasn't even thinking about Alfred."

One of Argentina's hands slipped around Mexico's waist, the other moved from his chin softly down his neck. He leaned forward slightly again and reconnected their lips, but the kiss on the lips was short and was followed by a trail of light kisses down Mexico's neck. He spoke between the light pecks, "I knew it, I've always been the one you really want. All those others, they pursue you, but you've always pursued me. I'm different, better, than all of them." Mexico found his arms wrapped around the other's neck. The hand on his waist pushed them even closer together. Again, it was Mexico who pushed away. His skin was buzzing from the attention and the heat was already rising just under his skin. He could feel the jersey sticking to his skin and vaguely wondered how anyone could find him attractive when he was this covered in sweat. He said, trying to keep his voice steady, "Stay right here, I'm going to go take a shower and change out of my uniform." Argentina quickly tightened, "Don't go. I like you just the way you are right now, grass stained and sweaty." Mexico shook his head slightly, but decided not to object. He was in far too good of a mood to fight about this.

Argentina opened the door and Mexico followed him. Once inside the door, Argentina said, "Take off your cleats, I don't want you to injure me with those spikes." Mexico smirked and said as he complied, "Oh? Would you give me a red card for that?" He could almost hear the words click in the other's mind. The response was delivered with a smile, "Of course and I really don't want to have to send you off." The Mexican finished taking off his cleats and strolled over to Argentina, who was standing at the foot of the bed looking at him with a hungry expression. Mexico ran his hand down the other's cheek, "Maybe I can convince you to just give me a yellow." A smirk curled across the Argentine man's face and he immediately put both of his hands on the other's hips and pulled their bodies together. At the same time, he connected their lips again. Mexico buried his hands in Argentina's blonde hair to pull the other into an even deeper kiss. He pushed his tongue into the other's mouth. Even with how dominant Argentina was attempting to act, Mexico felt the tongue yield easily. He could also feel the body pressed against him trembling slightly. Beneath all the bravado, he could tell that Argentina was nervous and that was far more endearing than any arrogant gesture.

One of Argentina's hands moved to Mexico's face and touched his cheek lightly. Argentina pulled away and said softly, his voice faltering, "Alejandro, I don't-" Mexico put his finger to Argentina's lips, stopping the insecurities that were spilling from between them. He responded, "I know, Juan. Let me call the plays from here on out." A slight smile reappeared on the Argentine man's face, "Si." The Mexican man said, "and I choose to play a more aggressive offense." He reached down and grabbed the edge of Argentina's shirt. The taller man offered no resistance as his shirt was pulled off, revealing the broad shoulders and muscled chest. Mexico threw the shirt to the other side of the room and then turned back to Argentina with a smirk and started running his hand across Argentina's chest, making sure to end on one of the nipples, which he teased softly with his fingers. A deep moan rumbled from the Argentine's throat. Mexico kept his touch light, knowing that this sort of light sensation drove Argentina wild. It seemed to work because Argentina's eyes immediately locked onto Mexico's face and there was a new aggression in his eyes. Mexico said playfully, "Do you like that?"

The other didn't respond, instead he grabbed the Mexican around the hips and in one smooth motion, spun him around and placed him on the foot of the bed. Mexico marveled at the strength that coursed through Argentina's rancher's arms and the way the other could pick him up with very little effort. A confident smirk returned to Argentina's face, as though the moment of having dominance slip away from him had reawakened his desire to assert himself. He said, "Consider this a break, I'm going to put you on the defensive now." He ran his hand up the other's arm and reached a tattoo, which was hidden just under the sleeve. The touch immediately sent a jolt of pleasure through Mexico, who moaned loudly. Their lips connected again while Mexico moaned. Argentina took advantage of the other's momentary weakness and forced his tongue deep into Mexico's mouth. As good as it felt, Mexico was not used to being dominated and it felt disconcerting. He pushed back, moving closer to the head of the bed.

Argentina followed him, half-crawling to do so. That arrogant smirk still plastered on his face, he purred, "Don't be like that, Alejandro, you know you can bottom better than just about anyone." Mexico hissed through his teeth, "Don't you dare pull that act with me. You're not actually this much of an asshole." He reached out and put his hand on Argentina's face. The look of confidence had given way to a rather forlorn stare. The dark chocolate eyes looked hurt. When Argentina spoke, the change was evident, "I'm sorry, I forget myself. That's just the only way most of the world will respect me." He looked down, an old instinct he saved only for when he was horribly embarrassed. Mexico used his hand on the other's face to tilt Argentina's face back up so that their eyes met again.

He said, trying for a teasing smile, "That's a yellow card for you." A tiny laugh of relief bubbled out of Argentina's full lips. He responded, "I guess that means you get a free kick." Mexico responded by moving to brush his lips against the other's, "Exactly." He pulled Argentina back into another kiss. However, this time he took dominance at first, but slowly conceded it to Argentina as it progressed. He let Argentina's tongue tentatively slip into his mouth. Mexico slowly leaned backwards, bringing the other with him. The blonde, who was realizing the position that he was in, moved one of his hands to Mexico's leg. It glided over the shorts, then the exposed flesh, and finally over the socks. It was good progress, so Mexico groaned encouragingly. Argentina whispered roughly in Mexico's ear, "When I watch you play, all I can think about is these beautiful legs wrapped around my waist." The other responded by folding both of his legs around the taller man and saying teasingly, "Like this?"

He had something else in mind. In a single movement, Mexico flipped them both over so he was on top, with Argentina looking up at him. He pulled off his shirt quickly. Once he finished, he said, "Now, a little reminder Juan, I'm always on top. This is about what I want." Argentina seemed amused by the statement. He sat up and connected his lips to Mexico's neck, where he started kissing down the length of the neck. At the same time, he ran one hand over the tattoo on Mexico's back. The other immediately reacted to the surge of pleasure and arched beneath Argentina's hand. He barely heard the teasing words, "Is this what you want?" Without conscious thought, he started to grind against Argentina's lap, eliciting a groan from the other. Argentina immediately went to pull off Mexico's shorts, which proved to be a challenge because of the position they were in. He eventually managed it, and Mexico unbuttoned and unzipped Argentina's jeans. They both looked up and their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. In that moment they both wanted to cut the foreplay because they were right at the edge.

Argentina immediately knew what to do. He offered Mexico his fingers, which he took in his mouth. Once the fingers were coated, the blonde moved them to start to prepare the other. He pushed one finger into Mexico, who groaned obligingly, "That's good, very good." Argentina started to kiss Mexico's neck again, saying between kisses, "This is what I like about you. You're so very-" He inserted another finger, which made Mexico's breath catch in a way that was incredibly sexy. Argentina finished his sentence, "wanton."

Mexico caught his breath and responded, "Just get on with it." His voice actually came out strong and commanding, which carried a certain irony considering he was at the other's mercy. It worked because Argentina removed his fingers and pulled his pants the rest of the way off. Mexico decided not to waste time and slammed himself down on Argentina. The other moaned before he could stop himself. Mexico smirked as he saw the look of pure ecstasy on the Argentine's face. He said, his voice only slightly quavering, "Are you ready for this?" All the blonde could manage was a nod. Mexico entwined one hand in Argentina's hair and placed the other firmly on his shoulder. He used both to rise and bring himself back down on Argentina. The other's body reacted and he thrusted in time with Mexico's movement. Mexico moved again and he felt Argentina's hands grab hold of his hips with the bruising strength of a man who had spent time wrangling cattle.

Their lips met again, and this time their tongues clashed mercilessly. Mexico pace intensified, helped by Argentina's hold on his hips. Both of his hands buried themselves in Argentina's messy blonde locks, pulling Argentina's head back slight. The other shifted his aim just slightly and a blinding spike of pleasure shot up Mexico's spine. He moaned loudly against Argentina's mouth. As soon as the sound died, Argentina recaptured Mexico's lips. A mutual fire was burning between them, and at this point it was completely uncontrollable. A few more fevered thrusts finished off Argentina. Mexico followed soon after.

When the glow started to fade, Mexico pushed himself off of Argentina so that he could lay face up on the bed, his chest rising and falling as he attempted to catch his breath. Between this and the soccer match, he was completely exhausted. Argentina also sunk back into a prone position. It seemed that having Mexico on top of him was the only thing that had kept him sitting up. He spoke in a breathy voice, "So, who wins the match?" Mexico looked over at him with a smile and said, "Let's call it a draw." He looked the other direction and caught sight of a clock hanging on the wall.

The time it displayed made Mexico sigh, "Juan, can I use your shower? I need to get back to Alfred, he'll be wondering where I am." Argentina responded without even looking over at the other, "If I said no, would you stay the night with me?" The comment was only half serious, and Mexico responded to it as such, "No, it would mean that I would have to go back smelling of you and you wouldn't want that, would you?" Argentina said, slightly grudgingly, "I don't suppose I would. Go ahead. Also, there are clothes in your size in the top drawer. You don't have to go back in your uniform."

Mexico finished dressing and turned to look at Argentina, who was sitting on the end of the bed still completely naked with a sheet wrapped loosely around his hips. He looked incredibly sexy. The black roots of his hair were more obvious when his hair was tousled. But the look on his face was dark. He looked up at Mexico and said, "I hate how you do this. Every time you leave as soon as we're done." Mexico sighed and responded, "You know why I do it. I have a boyfriend."

Argentina laughed, "You've got a pet. However much you say it, you will never want him the way you want me. If you were happy with him, you wouldn't give in to temptation so easily." Mexico beckoned to Argentina, "Come give me one last kiss." Argentina obliged and walked over, bringing the sheet with him. He put his hand under Mexico's chin and pulled him into one more kiss. When he pulled away, Mexico said, "Thank you Juan. I'll call you later, if I can get a break from explaining offsides to Alfred."

[anotherimaginescollection]

Hi, can you write a oneshot or imagine (whichever you think would fit) for Earth 2 Harrison Wells, where his wife died on his Earth and when he sees the doppelganger of her (the reader) on Earth 1 he hugs and kisses them (if you're ok with writing the kissing part). the reader then slaps Harrison? and other cute stuff after that like him being protective of the reader and holding their hand?

‘And then there wasthe time –’

‘OK, I think we getit,’ said Joe, a small smirk on his lips as I shrugged indifferently.Apparently my best friend wasn’t up for sharing embarrassing stories with his previouslyestranged son.

Instead I draped anarm over Wally’s shoulders as we walked into the cortex of STAR Labs. ‘Don’tworry, kid, I’ll tell you more when he’s not listening,’ I assured him, shootinghim a wink before stopping, glancing around at the people I was going to behelping.

To be honest, ithad taken me a while to realise that mild mannered Barry Allen was actually TheFlash, but since finally making the leap I was determined to help as soon as Icould. It had taken a lot of convincing to get Joe to finally agree to it, butnow I was finally able to do something. To try and stop the Metahumans fromwreaking havoc on the city – especially this Zoom character who had beencausing more trouble than it was worth. Joe had tried to give me all theinformation that he could, but I knew that he was keeping something back, notwanting to worry me or something. I hadn’t pried too much, knowing that he’dtell me in his own time.

‘Right,’ I said,glancing around at the others in the room, ‘so I know Barry and Iris.’ Theygave me small waves as I pointed towards them. ‘In which case, you must beCaitlin and Cisco. Pleasure to meet you.’ I offered out a hand to each of them,gaining a small smile in response from Cisco. ‘And today’s –’

My sentence was cutshort by the arrival of another figure. The piercing blue eyes shocked me, and instinctivelyI balled my hands up, ready to fight the man who I believed was dead.  

‘How?’ I asked,allowing myself a moment to wonder how on earth none of the others seemed to bereacting to the ghost.

But, before I hadtime to react, the man had rushed towards me, gathering me up in his arms andmuttering about how he couldn’t believe it was me. The words washed over me,making little to no sense. I had never known him, all I knew was that he was toblame for most of the things that had gone wrong in the city. And yet shockcrashed over me, freezing me to the spot for a moment.

‘I – I can’t believe–’ he was muttering, his voice breaking off as he shook his head.

I took a deepbreath, forcing myself to concentrate, before quickly pushing him away. Then,without thinking, I slapped him. The sound reverberated around the room, and I heardthe shock of the others. My eyes, however, narrowed at Harrison Wells who wasstanding in front of me, his cheek slightly red and his eyes shining with anemotion that I couldn’t quite place.

‘Does anyone wannatell me what the heck is going on?’ I asked, glancing around at Joe briefly, myattention snapping back towards Wells.

Joe had steppedforward slightly, his eyes narrowed and suspicion practically radiating fromhim. ‘I was wondering the same thing,’ he said slowly.

Wells sighed, runninga hand over his face. Somehow he seemed to wipe away the emotion and replace itwith an indifference that I would have expected from him. ‘It’s just that Iknew your doppelgänger,’ he said softly, looking at the floor.

‘How?’ asked Joe,and I nodded my agreement.

‘On Earth-2,’ Wellssaid matter-of-factly, as if it was meant to mean something to me. Apparently,however, it was known to the others because they all seemed to nodunderstandingly. ‘She’s… was my wife.’

I scoffed,uncertain about the viability of what I was hearing.

‘Her name was(Y/n),’ he went on, causing me to blink. ‘She used to come and visit me forlunch, making sure that I ate. We’d sit in the park and talk – her insistingthat I didn’t focus all my life on work…’ He paused, his eyes glisteningslightly. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’re not her. It’s just… she died several yearsago.’

Despite everythingI felt my stomach tightening slightly. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said in a small voice,fiddling with my hands, part of me wanting to take one of his but also beingunable to think about going near a man who looked so similar to the one who hadchanged so many people’s lives.

With a deep breathI moved forward, taking his hand gently in mine. ‘Is it… Is it your kid that we’retrying to save?’ I asked, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Yours and… hers?’

He nodded slowly.

‘Well then, I’mgoing to make sure that I help to get her back,’ I assured him, a small smileslipping onto my face. ‘Just, try not to attack hug me again.’

There was thebriefest flicker of a smile on his face before he looked serious once more. ‘Ican do that,’ he agreed.

I nodded beforeturning my attention towards the others, letting my hand fall away from his. ‘Nowthen, how’d we stop this latest Meta then?’

The others smiled,moving to what I assumed were their relative work stations, prepared to give methe information that might allow me to help. Somehow I knew that whateverhappened I’d be all right, though. I knew that Wells was going to be lookingout for me as well, and I was determined to look out for him too. I wasn’tgoing to let him lose anyone else.