#(( relax and work flows just fine. ::queue:: ))

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

@defyxoblivion sent:

Like teacher, like student, Klarion stumbles through the door of John’s apartment naked and splattered in blood and gore. Teekl saunters in ahead of him, proudly carrying a human heart. The Witch Boy keeps himself modest with what little bit of clothing, presumably, he’s left from his encounter. A torn piece of tactical gear.

“I know, I know, I’m late for supper, and shame on me, but wouldn’t you know? My old friend Amanda sent a few pals to say hello! Well, I just had to give them a proper Suicide Squad thank you for their little abduction.”

The sound of the front door opening causes John to lift his eyes from the newspaper he has been pouring over for the last hour or so. On the table next to him there's a still half full glass of gin, but the almost empty bottle set within his arm's reach betrays the fact that it's just the latest of the drinks he has been indulging in.

The leftovers Chas has left him the day before, the ones that are supposed to be the supper Klarion has mentioned, lay half forgotten in the old oven, barely warm.

Blue eyes take in the bloody figure that crosses the threshold and the magician lets out a huff, before folding the newspaper. And if his gaze lingers a little longer than necessarily on the lines of the younger man's naked torso, well...far from him to acknowledge it.

The sight would have probably horrified most people, but if there's something John Constantine has never been accused of being, that's ordinary. Or even just a little sane. To him, the Witch Boy looks ridiculous, especially with how he is trying to hide his privates.

It's also quite endearing, but he's going to keep that for himself.

"Yeh makin' a literal bloody mess on me floor," is the first thing that leaves the conman's lips and he waved towards the trail of red footprints that his protégé has left behind him. "Cor blimey, woh th'...Teekl! Tha' 'eart's be'er go in yeh bowl or in yeh stomach, 'cause if I find it anywhere else, I'm turnin' yeh in a fuckin' bright pink duster."

It wouldn't be the first time the cursed cat leaves something dead to rot in a corner of the flat and John is already done dealing with it.

With a heavy sigh, the magician pushed himself on his feet, padding his way towards Klarion. His eyes ran along the younger man's body again, this time to make sure that there's no wound or bruise on him, before he slaps his shoulder.

"Get yeh pretty ass in th' shower n' get dis shite off yeh," he instructs in a firm tone, already nudging the other towards the bathroom. "I'll grab yeh some clean clothes. Den I'll get th' food ready, while yeh cleanin' up after yehself, 'cause I ain't yeh maid, lad."

He's going to ask more details about what exactly Amanda Warren has done this time, but that will have to wait. First and foremost, he wants Klarion clean and fed. That shit has been happening a little too often lately and he doesn't like it. That woman has better watch it because, while he might have pissed off most of the demonkin, he still has a few friends in the Pit.

[pedrostories]

UPDATE! New deadline: 20 August (Sunday)

PedroStories 1000 followers celebration

PedroStories hit 1000 followers in May, around the same time the blog had its 2nd birthday, so we decided to celebrate it with the fandom’s writers and readers!

We prepared with a few general quotes, other quotes from Pedro and his characters and with some fanfiction tropes. You don’t have to stick to the character whose quote you choose – actually, we encourage you to mix and match any of them as creatively as you want! The celebration starts today and lasts until 20 August!

Please read the rules carefully, then you will find the list of prompts under the cut.

Rules

We welcome pairings with readers/characters of any gender, non-romantic pairings or even fics with no pairings. 💚 The rating can be anything from general to explicit.

Choose at least one quote from any of the quotes lists (you can use more prompts in one fic) and choose at least one trope. You can write as many fics as you want using these prompts!

It’s not necessary to let us know what prompts you’ve chosen! Just let your creativity flow - this challenge is completely open!

Please mention in your post that your work is for @pedrostories’ celebration and use the special tag #pedrostories1k, just so we can track and queue every single entry.

Please post your work until 20 August – we will track the special tag until that day, and in a few days we create a masterlist of all the fanfictions. You can keep using the list later and we will queue them as usual if you tag the blog, but we won’t track the special tag anymore and won’t update the event’s masterlist.

Please make sure you use tags and warnings properly – we take tagging stories seriously to help our followers find the story that caters to their needs and avoid those they don’t want to see on their feed - If there’s character/trope/dynamic/etc. you would like to avoid, you can easily blacklist tags on tumblr, you can find a tutorial about it here! 

Please remember that even though this list has quotes from Pedro, we don’t reblog real person fics (aka fics about Pedro himself)– this blog is for fanfiction written for characters played by him.

Following the blog in order to participate in the game is not mandatory, but it’s very much welcomed! 🤗

Send us an ask if you have any questions – we will use the tag #pedrostories1k questions so you can check previously answered asks about the event.

Signal boosts about this event are appreciated!

Have fun! 🌻

List of prompts below the cut!

List of prompts

Quotes

General Dialogue Prompt List: 

“The price of my affection is high.” 

“You pushed me off the bed!” - “I’m sorry?”

“I got shot and I’m fine! Relax, would you?” 

“If I (…) will you behave for me?” – „Only if you kiss me first.”

 “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different.”

“You’re not going to believe this” 

“Not again”

“Run!”

 “Do you trust me?” 

“Please, just listen to me!” 

“You’ve lost.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I hate that I can’t seem to live without you!” 

“Oh, don’t be modest, just kiss me.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that your eyes sparkle in sunlight?” 

“You can’t go until I tell you” 

 “Do I really have a choice?” 

“You’re the reason I wake up every morning.”

 “I hate you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now.” 

“You wanna go save the world?” 

“I don’t think that’s exactly what I had in mind.” 

“‘Sorry’ just isn’t going to cut it anymore.” 

“Come back in five more minutes”

Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe Quotes: 

Pedro Pascal quotes:

“I’m not short”

“But bad guys are more fun!”

“Smack me, I deserve it” 

“That bad?”

“I really need to stop eating the sticker on the tomato”

“I’m sitting in the dark. I like it.”

"You naughty dog.”

“That me. Working on the buns.”

“But those were MY CRISPS!”

“I’m going straight for that bottom.”

“Somebody gimme a hug.”

“If you're freaky you're hot, if you're hot you're freaky.”

Dieter Bravo quotes: 

“I’m trying to care, but it’s hard.”

“We’re fucked” 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” 

“This is creepy, but I like it”

“I’m not giving this up!”

“Hold my hair!”

Javi Gutierrez quotes: 

“I fucking told you” 

“Honestly, I’m too nervous” 

“I think I need to go to bed” 

“Whether you like it or not, you have a gift.”

"Sometimes circumstances get in the way of love. That's just the way it is."

“We need to open our minds to the infinite possibilities of what the cosmos has to offer."

Din Djarin quotes: 

“I know everything that’s in there”

“This is a pile of junk”

“I’m not leaving my fate up to chance.”

“Your song is not yet written. I serve you until it is.”

“Take it off.  Or I will.”

“I like those odds.”

Javier Peña quotes:

 “You're breaking my fucking heart, baby.”

“Sleep with a communist? That would be downright un-American.”

“Things don’t always go according to plan.”

“I got a better idea.”

“Fuck this!”

“Well, what have we here?”

Dave York quotes:

“ There is no sin. No virtue.”

“Who did this?”

“There’s no coming back from this.”

“You do what you have to do and you move on.”

“It’s who we were. It’s what we did.”

“You shouldn't start a war with us.”

Jack Daniels quotes:

“Whoo. I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.”

“What are we doin’?”

“Looks like we’re hookin’ up with a chick at a rock concert.”

“It's a lasso.”

“How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?”

“Now, is that any way to welcome a visitor from out of town, moonshine?”

Pero Tovar quotes:

“Maybe you can fool them, but I know what you are.”

“The time before that I saved your life!”

“You can never undo things you have done.”

“Is that the best you've got?”

“I want to eat.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Frankie Morales quotes:

“Alright baby, alright baby. Come on now.”

“This is not what I signed up for.”

“What the fuck we’re gonna do with that thing?”

“Move. Move!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“It's not a big deal. Actually, it's a big deal.”

Fanfic Tropes

AU fic 

Forced Proximity

Time Travel 

Roadtrip

One Bed

Second chance romance

Friends to Lovers 

Enemies to Lovers 

Fake dating

Redemption

Forbidden love (legal)

Hurt/Comfort

Soulmates 

Secret identity/billionaire/royal

Blind Date 

Platonic Relationship 

Body Swap

Love Triangle

5 times this and 1 time that

Opposites attract

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

The warning had John wanting to roll his eyes, but he resisted the urge, for the sake of not giving Ruby one more reason to keep up her hostile attitude. He still couldn't resist shooting her a look as he took the necklace, but the only sounds that left his lips were the words of the scrying spell.

The silver bullet was swallowed by a bright golden glow for a few seconds and the the light seemed to liquefy, dripping off the pendant and turning into a trail of mist as it hit the ground.

The magician rose an eyebrow as he watched the golden smoke run along the pavement and then turning the corner of the closest alley.

"Cor blimey, I bleedin' 'ope he ain't eatin' outta some Chinese restaurant dump," he groaned, nodding to the girl to follow him. "He'll stink for a friggin' week."

And he would know, since he had accidentally fallen into one more than once during the years. Of course, they were like a rose bath compared to some areas of Hell, but that hardly made the stench pleasant.

"So aye, get 'im to Chas next time. He can wash th' furry wee pest too while he's at it."

The cynical part of her hesitated. Part of her wanted to tell him that he’d lost her cat, and she wouldn’t be putting anything else of hers in his hands for the time being.

She huffed, reaching around her neck and pulling the chain from over her head. She held it out to him, a silver bullet dangling between them.

“Don’t lose it,” she said, more out of a sour mood than any actual concern.

John wouldn’t lose it. Not now. He knew enough to know that he’d fucked up. Despite the air of flippancy the two tried to keep between them, he was serious. She could tell, just as he could tell that she was.

“I’m giving him to Chas next time.”

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

AN OVERLY DETAILED BODY TOUCH MEME

Rules: Bold the body parts that elicit the specified response when touched. Italicize the body parts that have the potential to elicit the specified response when touched, but perhaps not always. Repost, do not reblog !

makes them shiver with delight.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears.  shell of the ears. earlobes. back of the neck.  sides of the neck.  throat. collarbone area. chest. nipples.  tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades.  bicep area.  tricep area. underarms.  top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm.  outside of the wrist.  inside of the wrist.  tops of the hands. palm of the hands.  tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers.  between the fingers.  upper ribs.  lower ribs.  sides.  waist. stomach. belly button. upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back. fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips.  ass.  groin. tops of the thighs.  inner thighs. backs of the thighs.  outer thighs.  knee caps.  backs of the knees.  shins.  calves.  fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles. achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

makes them want to share a romantic touch with a loved one.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears.  shell of the ears. earlobes.  back of the neck.  sides of the neck.  throat.  collarbone area.  chest. nipples. tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades.  bicep area.  tricep area.  underarms.  top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm. inside of the wrist. outside of the wrist.  tops of the hands. palm of the hands. tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers.  between the fingers. upper ribs. lower ribs.  sides.  waist. stomach.  belly button. upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back.  fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips.  ass.  groin.  tops of the thighs.  inner thighs.  backs of the thighs.  outer thighs.  knee caps.  backs of the knees. shins.  calves.  fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles.  achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

makes them laugh when tickled.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears. shell of the ears. earlobes.  back of the neck.  sides of the neck.  throat.  collarbone area. chest. nipples.  tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades.  bicep area.  tricep area.  underarms. top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm.  inside of the wrist.  outside of the wrist.  tops of the hands.  palm of the hands.  tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers.  between the fingers. upper ribs.  lower ribs.  sides.  waist. stomach.  belly button.  upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back.  fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips.  ass. groin. tops of the thighs.  inner thighs.  backs of the thighs.  outer thighs.  knee caps. backs of the knees. shins.  calves.  fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles.  achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

makes them relax when massaged.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears.  shell of the ears. earlobes. back of the neck.  sides of the neck.  throat.  collarbone area.  chest. nipples. tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades. bicep area.  tricep area. underarms. top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm.  inside of the wrist.  outside of the wrist.  tops of the hands.  palm of the hands.  tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers.  between the fingers.  upper ribs.  lower ribs.  sides.  waist.  stomach.  belly button. upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back.  fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips.  ass.  groin.  tops of the thighs.  inner thighs.  backs of the thighs.  outer thighs.  knee caps. backs of the knees.  shins.  calves. fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles.  achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

turns them on.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears.  shell of the ears. earlobes. back of the neck. sides of the neck.  throat.  collarbone area.  chest.  nipples. tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades.  bicep area.  tricep area.  underarms. top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm.  inside of the wrist.  outside of the wrist.  tops of the hands. palm of the hands.  tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers. between the fingers.  upper ribs.  lower ribs.  sides.  waist.  stomach.  belly button. upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back. fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips. ass. groin.  tops of the thighs.  inner thighs.  backs of the thighs. outer thighs.  knee caps.  backs of the knees.  shins.  calves.  fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles.  achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

would rather not be touched.

forehead. brow. nose. cheeks. lips. chin. inner ears. shell of the ears. earlobes.  back of the neck.  sides of the neck.  throat.  collarbone area.  chest.  nipples.  tops of the shoulders.  shoulder blades.  bicep area.  tricep area. underarms.  top of the forearm.  bottom of the forearm.  inside of the wrist.  outside of the wrist.  tops of the hands.  palm of the hands.  tops of the fingers.  pads of the fingers.  between the fingers.  upper ribs.  lower ribs. sides.  waist.  stomach. belly button.  upper back.  middle of the back.  lower back.  fronts of the hips.  sides of the hips.  backs of the hips. ass.  groin.  tops of the thighs.  inner thighs.  backs of the thighs. outer thighs.  knee caps.  backs of the knees.  shins.  calves.  fronts of the ankles.  inner ankles.  outer ankles.  achilles heel.  tops of the feet.  bottoms of the feet.  pads of the toes.  between the toes.  under the toes.  arches of the feet.  heel.

taken from @justmemethings tagging: @lostxndbroken @adventurepunks @the-arkham-librarian @eyeless-smiles @optimisticrobin @defyxoblivion @goldentemplariumcrow & whoever wants to steal it !

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

tagged by Stolen from myself ! tagging: @adventurepunks @lostxndbroken @the-arkham-librarian @defyxoblivion @stellarhistoria & whoever wants to steal it !

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part two

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: thank you for the overwhelming love for the first part of this series, which i will link HERE for you guys!! also MASSIVE thank you for over 700 followers, when i posted the first part i was just hitting 600, so this has been crazy, love you always and hope you enjoy <333

words: 4,949

A warmth covered y/n’s face as she grumbled to herself, trying to roll herself away from the light that spilled in from the large windows. Her eyes squinted uncomfortably and the noise of the room finally settled into her head bit by bit.

The sound of a coffee machine whirring, doors opening and closing, and the faint sound of the morning radio show that Neville would often play at the inn. It all felt so new, yet so familiar.

“Morning sleepyhead,” The girl frowned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes to see one of the twins place a mug on the small coffee table nearby. “Feelin’ better?” The girl nodded, feeling guilty that she once again couldn’t tell whether it was Fred or George that was talking to her.

“I’m sorry- this is really rude but, are you Geor-”

“I’m Fred.” He didn’t seem bothered by her wild guess, standing up as if nothing was amiss and heading to the kitchen. “Come and get something to eat will you, or else it’ll get cold!” He called back, disappearing to find his brother and leaving her to pull on a nearby hoodie.

She shuffled over to the table, a small chuckle sounding out at the sight of their plates. Piled high with more food than she’d usually eat in a whole day, the girl sat down and started on a piece of toast, hoping they wouldn’t mind her starting a little prematurely.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” George laughed, his twin obviously urgent to have them sit down together for breakfast. Was this normal for them, or was she the exception? They both wore matching suits, dressed for their day of work, with the difference being that Fred’s tie was red and George’s blue.

One glance at the clock and the girl wanted to head straight back to bed, but if she wanted to thank them properly for their hospitality, then it needed to be before the shop opened anyway. Their sofa had felt like heaven, and now she needed to leave it behind and fend for herself.

The two men sat across from her at the table, as they had done the night before. But now the jeans and t-shirts had been forgotten, and their once loose hair was now fixed neatly. It was funny to the girl how they could pull off two extremes so well.

They sat with a grin on their face, watching her sip on her coffee warily, unsure as to what they were waiting for.

“Are you two okay?” Please don’t let them be creeps, not now. She begged to herself, seeing them exchange a nod before looking back to her once again.

“We have an idea to offer up,” Fred started.

“One that will benefit both of us.” George added in, y/n urging them on with her sunny smile. She couldn’t help but smile around them, it was like they were made to make people laugh.

“We’ve been saying for a while that we need help in the shop,”

“Someone to cover the tills when we’re talking to customers mainly,” “Oh yeah, we hate the tills.” They went a little off track, but managed to catch train of thought again.

“Anyway,” George chuckled, seeing her look of confusion. “You need somewhere to stay, and we can’t afford to pay for someone to work in the shop.” “So, if you agree to help out then we’ll let you stay here.” “With us!”

They waited, a small moment of silence as they watched her face for a reaction. The news took a second to process, as she realised it was the ideal outcome for both of them. That way she wouldn’t feel in debt to them if she stayed, either.

Her head bobbed up and down very slowly, the two men sharing a look of pride as they high fived like kids. The girl stood up, racing over to their side of the table and wrapping her arms around them both.

“Thank you so much,” She didn’t dare speak too loud, in case she broke the floodgates on their shoulders.

Fred and George chuckled, squeezing an arm each before reassuring her that it was fine, they didn’t want her to feel as though she owed them the whole time.

“I’ll help out anywhere I can, I mean it, not just in the shop either-”

“Y/n,”

“I can cook, I can do the laundry or- or even just shop for food every week.”

“Calm down,” Fred laughed, seeing her fall into a rant over her possible chores.

“We don’t need you to do all that!” George teased, ruffling her already messy hair and heading off to the bathroom.

“Better get ready quickly, looks like there’s already a queue out there!” He chimed, peering his head to look from one of the windows to the street below, where hoards of excited kids were already waiting to get inside.

“Come on then y/n, we’ll show you everything don’t worry.” Fred had noticed the way her smile faltered at the warning of so many people all at once, she’d never had a job before working at the leaky cauldron and now she needed to learn everything in one go.

She got up, wasting no time, and made herself look presentable. The girl grabbed her open case and pulled out some black trousers and a green cardigan to put on, slipping into the bathroom once George was finished to get changed.

“I’ll go open up!” She heard him shout once the door was shut, and she stumbled around trying to be as quick as possible. Once she charmed her hair to wave nicely and cast a quick freshen up spell, y/n found Fred waiting in the living room.

“Here,” he held a little badge inside his large palm, the swirly writing showing her name. “That way, everyone will know who you are.”

Y/n took it from him, a wide smile on her face as she placed it onto her cardigan. Only a handful of people had ever bothered to learn her name when she was pulling pints, the twins included, but now everyone would know it. They wanted people to know it.

Fred felt his cheeks blush at the way she squealed with excitement, her previous nerves nowhere to be seen as she bounded towards the door of the loft.

“Wait for me!” He laughed, running after her, grabbing his jacket that hung on the back of the chair.

The girl ran down the few flights of stairs that were out of sight before running into the chaos. Now, the shop that she had seen sleeping the night before burst into action before her eyes. The entire place was a cacophony of lights, sparks and laughter. A small crowd of children watched in awe as George showed off yet another variety of firework, their cheers of delight echoing up to where y/n watched from.

“Come on then, better get on the tills before people start nicking things.” Fred nudged the girl’s back a little and she happily weaved through the shop to reach the little counter where an old till sat waiting for them. People were already waiting to pay, so Fred took charge, giving her a chance to watch what he did before giving it a go herself.

-

After the initial shock of the morning, y/n easily settled into the flow of the shop, working well between the two twins who watched her proudly while she served customers. It was around midday, and less and less people were coming in as the time passed, giving the three of them a chance to relax after the neverending hoard they’d dealt with.

“It’ll pick up again-” Fred laughed, leaning against the counter as she sat upon it and sighed happily.

“It always does, every single day-” George joined. “Without fail.”

“At about two normally.”

Working there was such a difference to the bar that she almost felt surprised when people would greet her with the same smile she’d give them. That had been a rarity when all she had been to people previously, was a barmaid.

“I love it here,” The girl admitted, swinging her feet off the side of the counter like a child. George was moving boxes from the back onto the shopfloor, opening each one and emptying the contents onto shelves. She wondered how he hadn’t run out of space yet, there was already a surplus of things everywhere she looked.

“I’m glad you do.” Fred beamed, turning to look at her.

“Hey! You guys, we’ve got a new shipment of bottled weather!” George pulled them from their daydream, calling the pair over to see what he’d found.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Well it’s weather… in a bottle.” Fred tried to explain, but saw he wasn’t much help. “It’s probably just easier to show you.” He chuckled nervously, fishing through the cardboard box until he found one he liked the look of. “See, this one’s a rainbow.”

He screwed open the top, leaning back a little so that the beam of colour could release itself without hitting him in the face. Him and George had learnt to avoid it the hard way when they started selling them a year ago.

Y/n’s face lit up, watching it bounce around in the air until it found its place and settled into a perfect curve.

“Wow,” Her eyes surveyed it intently, wanting to reach out and touch it, but knowing that would most likely end up bad. “That’s incredible!” The man beside her swooped the jar over it and pressed the lid on tightly, the strip of colour disappearing once again in front of her eyes.

“Oh yeah, they’re incredible, until every fourteen year old boy wants to open one and suddenly there’s a load of rain clouds in here and plenty of puddles for me to clean up!” George grumbled, finishing up with that box and heading off to find another. The girl giggled, unable to picture his tall figure with a measly mop.

“He’s not a fan of the rain.” Fred whispered to her, not helping the giggling to go down. “Personally, I love it.” “Me too, well, I used to.”

Their quiet moment was caught off guard by the sound of the bell tinkling, telling them that someone was coming in. A voice called out, one that she vaguely recognised, but couldn’t for the life of her know the name to go with it.

“Fred! George! It’s Harry!” Well, that was always helpful.

“By the till mate!” He called back, standing up from the counter to give him a quick hug.

She recognised this man’s face, he’d been in the leaky cauldron with them a couple times over the past months. But he had very rarely spoken to her, just the quick exchange when he would get another round for everyone.

Harry’s face seemed to reflect his confusion, surprised to see her sitting with a nametag on that matched the twins’ instead of behind the bar. Still, she smiled his way, which he eventually returned.

“It’s good to see you again y/n, are you- do you work here now?” He looked to Fred for confirmation, to which the man just nodded.

“She’s staying with us for a bit, and INSISTED on helping out.”

“So you’ve set her to work so soon, how charming.” Harry joked, greeting George when he reappeared with another handful of boxes to unpack, surely they didn’t do this every day?

She watched the sun outside as it danced through a select few shop windows, including one of their own, the stream flying in and lighting up the small flecks of dust that flitted across her line of sight. It was easy for the girl to get lost in her own thoughts, drowning out the sound of Fred and Harry talking enthusiastically about quidditch as she basked in the warmth that hit her legs.

George came up behind her, placing a few boxes down beside her.

“Could you do me a favour,” She jumped a little at his voice, nodding when she realised what he’d asked of her.

“Of course,” “I took some paperwork up to the loft the other night, it’s on the desk in my room, could you grab the invoices for these wonderwitch packages and bring them down. I need to go set up the blasted thing, and god knows Fred won’t be helping any time soon.” He grinned, rolling his eyes at his brother and their friend getting more and more excited about something.

The girl got up with a smile, taking a quick mental note of how many different products there were before the man took them away to be set up near the front window. She scurried off, bounding up the stairs with a spring in her step. By the time she reached the top she was well out of breath, but it didn’t matter. Never in her life had she been treated with such kindness from almost strangers, not to mention that they actually seemed to like her.

George’s door was half-ajar, his open window blowing the light curtains around gently, as she walked inside. It felt cosy, yet fresh, in there. His bed was neatly made and everything seemed to be put away very methodically, much like how he preferred to display things in the shop. Whereas Fred was the one who would just shove things anywhere.

As long as people buy it!

He had told George nearly four times just that morning, unfazed by the way his brother went around correcting it all once he was seemingly out of sight. Fred never mentioned it, leaving the other twin to do as he pleased.

But it seemed as though George’s desk was the one place where all the rules on organisation went, quite literally out the window, as there were sheets and quills and parchment all over the place. She sighed, getting to work on finding what she needed.

-

Downstairs, Fred and Harry had just about talked each other's ears off about Ginny’s last match, discussing how amazing she had been as her teams substitute seeker when the actual player had gotten a mild concussion.

“She’s training all day today so that’s why I’m delivering her messages today.” Harry chuckled, knowing that Fred would make some kind of remark about his sister bossing him about so easily. In truth, he didn’t mind. “She wanted me to let you know that she’s gonna pop by later and visit after practice.”

“Ah! So we’ll be seeing her more than you, poor boy.”

“Be quiet, I’ve booked her all weekend.” Harry huffed, just glad to have his fiance to himself for more than one evening at a time.

“So, how’s things with y/n getting on?” He asked the twins when George came over to catch up with the younger wizard.

“She’s doing great, given that it’s only her first day.”

“Yeah, and we’re actually sorting out a surprise for her.” Fred peeked up the flight of stairs, seeing no sign of the girl. “Come on, we’ll show you before she comes back.”

The three of them went to the storage room round the back of the counter, where George had been ferrying boxes out of all morning.

“We’re gonna clear all this out and then get her some furniture and posters and the like, make it feel a bit more homely for her.”

“Woah, so you guys must like her.” Harry laughed, nodding at the large amount of room there was when nothing was stacked up inside.

“She’s worth it, isn’t she Freddie.”

“She deserves it, you mean.”

-

By the time the girl found the paperwork George had asked for, Harry had left to go see Neville and Hannah, just in time for the afternoon rush to start up and distract them all once again.

Fred kept an eye on the girl, who continued to happily serve behind the till, from the safety of the shelves where he was taking a break between product demonstrations. George, he hoped, would finish clearing out the storage room by the end of the day so that they could get to work fixing it up for her while she slept in the loft that night.

The two twins became so overwhelmed with jobs to do that day, that both of them forgot to mention to y/n that their sister Ginny was to visit that evening. Only getting a chance to speak to their new worker once the last customer left and the front doors were locked shut.

“That seemed like more people than last week eh Georgie?”

“I could barely reach the back shelves; there were so many of them, at least most of them are small so I can just reach over their heads.”

“Still, it’s good business.”

“Hey- where’s y/n gone?”

Fred found the girl near the back of the shop, her cardigan slumped over a nearby chair, as she swung her wand back and forth. The broom beside her followed perfectly, sweeping the floor of mess that had been trudged about throughout the day. She clocked the man behind her and smiled.

“I’ll finish up sweeping then do a once over with the mop.”

“Jesus, I don’t think we’ve ever cleaned that much!” Fred laughed, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Why don’t you head up and chill out, you’ve done more than enough for us already.”

“Are you sure?” Her eyebrows joined together in a concerned frown, but the man could only smile down at her and nod.

“Go on, we won’t be long anyway.”

The girl thanked him and went up the stairs, flashing a grin George’s way when she passed him.

“Good idea, now we can get some furniture in without her seeing.” He whispered, crediting his brother’s sharp mind.

“Come on Georgie, you need a break sometimes too, we can finish it off tomorrow anyway.” They both looked up in the direction of the loft when music came filtering down.

“Do you think she’s really happy here Freddie?”

“She seems it.” He shrugged. “She always seems happy, but do you think she really is.”

“Probably… I hope so.” “Me too.” George hummed, finally giving up his task of the day and offering to get them dinner from a nearby muggle restaurant while Fred finished brushing up behind the counter.

The music got louder, but he didn’t mind. Most days, him and George would be too tired to do much together besides their weekly pub visits. And even then it was only because someone else would persuade them to take a break. Now, just having y/n around, was like taking a breath of fresh air amongst their hectic and exhausting days.

Fred saw a flash of long blonde hair pass the front of the shop window, flattering slightly before moving off again. He scrambled to his feet, watching as he saw his little sister’s friend a little further down the alley.

“Luna!” He called out, waving when she turned slowly, a genuine smile on her face. She always was happy to see people.

“Hello Fred. It’s been such a long time, how are you?”

“I’m not bad, how are things with you- how is Rolf and the Boys?”

-

Y/n flung herself on the sofa, her legs aching with the day’s work well behind her. The guitar whined out in its case to be used, but she couldn’t find the energy to even pick it up, let along strum something decent. So she flicked her wand towards the radio, the stations passing by until she found one she liked, turning it up with a content smile.

Not long after, there was a flash from the fireplace that sat lonely at one end of the loft’s long living room. The girl jolted up, not having seen a floo line used very often when she lived at one. For a second the green flames put her in a trance, her mind forgetting that it meant someone was going to appear in the room before her.

A tall girl, wearing just jeans and a hoodie stood before her, a bewildered and yet excited look on her face. She turned towards the radio that was blasting out an old rock song, the red hair on her head bobbing as she dropped her sports bag and laughed.

“I love this song!”

-

“Give the twins a kiss from me!” Fred called after Luna, glad to have caught her when he did. With her husband always off exploring new magical creatures, she was often left with her hands full looking after the young twins. Still, she seemed composed as ever.

“There you are, took long enough!” George rolled his eyes at his brother’s words, holding out a bag for Fred to take from his one hand.

“Yeah well I was just going to get enough for the three of us but remembered Ginny was coming and thought she must be hungry after practice.” He explained.

“Oh yeah of course- wait!”

“GINNY!” They both exclaimed, the twins rushing to lock the shop doors behind themselves so they could warn their newest tennant of their little sister’s arrival.

But when they both burst into the loft, they realised there was nothing to worry about. The sight of both girls dancing around the kitchen together and laughing along to the way neither of them could get the lyrics right, settling their nerves.

“So I see you two have met.”

“Brothers!” Ginny laughed, making no moves to greet them, too enthralled in the girl’s company. She had friends on her quidditch team of course, and her siblings and their fiances. But god she loved new people, especially when they were always up for a good time like she was. “I love her! Can we keep her! Please, please, please.” She begged, gripping the girl’s arm like a whining child.

“Y/n’s our guest okay, so play nice.” Fred grumbled, setting down the food and letting everyone help themselves.

“I’m always nice, see I got the drinks ready for everyone.” Hey! That’s ours.” George pointed to the bottle of wine she had already cracked open.

“Exactly, ours.” Ginny giggled, passing him a glass, which would no doubt keep him quiet until he had one too many, then you’d never shut him up.

All four of them clinked glasses, the twins soon loosening up and matching their sister’s party attitude as they joined in with the girls’ dancing. George was headbanging like a madman, his grown out hair flying all over his eyes. His mother had been begging to cut it like she had done when they still lived at home, but he realised he had always preferred it longer. Fred had done the same, keeping his a bit neater around the edges than his brother, but enjoying the length over the breeze he felt whenever it got shorter.

Ginny had always seen the twins as nuisances when she was younger and still at school, but after the war ended she learnt to enjoy her life a little more. That was when she finally realised that they had been doing so all along. The youngest Weasley sibling then decided to join a professional quidditch team and take life one day at a time, her mother had been horrified of course, but like the twins she couldn’t deny how good Ginny was when she whizzed through the sky.

-

Y/n got to know the girl better, as their glasses were refilled by George everytime they took a sip. He always did enjoy hosting, especially when he was getting as drunk as everyone else. The four of them had danced for what felt like hours, grateful for the lack of neighbours, then collapsed onto the sofa where they continued to share stories and finish off another three bottles of wine between them.

“These two threw water over me and blamed Ron!” Ginny laughed, reminiscing on their summer holidays at the burrow.

“Mum would have never believed us!”

“I can’t remember why she did?” The twins protested, their many pranks over the years made it hard to recall smaller ones such as drenching their sister in her sleep.

“Because you timed it so that when mum went to find Ron he was filling up a bucket to water the plants!” She explained, having heard the other brother’s recollection every time it was brought up at a family dinner.

“Ah yes!” They said in unison, the girl in between them in fits of giggles over their mischievous side.

“You two really are trouble,” she chuckled, keeping her nearly empty glass out of George’s sight in fear of having a horrible hangover the next morning. At least the shop was closed on Sundays, or else they would have all struggled.

“You can’t escape!” Fred boomed, acting like a brainless zombie.

“We’ve trapped you.” His brother joined in.

“Good luck with these two, they’ve obviously tried to keep the chaos hidden… but it’ll come out sooner or later.” Ginny laughed, checking the time with a humorous face. “Good lord, I better get back before Harry starts sending owls after me.”

“He can wait!” George whined, pouring into her glass as she tried to stand up.

“I know he can Georgie, but I’ve also had a very long day at the pitch so I need to get some sleep soon.” Her legs turned to jelly as she wobbled over to her sports bag, staggering under its weight. The redhead waved goodbye from the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder and announcing her address before bursting into flames.

Y/n sort of wished that Ginny would have stayed longer, as she was only just beginning to know her properly. But she too couldn’t deny the wave of fatigue that hit her like a brick wall the second she blinked a little longer than she should have.

“Tired darling?” George sneered from beside her, waking her again.

“Oh no… not at all.”

“Leave her be, you can sleep if you want- we won’t disturb you.” Fred leant over her to shove his brother playfully.

“You should sleep too Georgie-” She teased, her drunken smile still just as perfect as her regular one.

“And why’s that sunshine?”

“Because you’ve been moving all those boxes, you must be exhausted by now!”

Both men froze a little, concerned that she’d noticed him working on the storage room all day. Fred eyed his brother, urging him to say something in the awkward silence they had created.

“Uh- yeah- well, we need to make space for a new shipment.” George lied, in a panic, the other twin silently grimacing and how awful he was under pressure.

“That means things are selling right? That’s good?” She looked between them, seemingly oblivious to the way the men were freaking out in their heads.

“Alright- alright we’ll go to bed!” Fred laughed, breaking the tension, and standing up to clear the coffee table of glasses and plates. George joined him, wanting to avoid any more possible interrogation if he could help it.

The girl reached for the bowls before her but they cut her off.

“We can do all this, you get some sleep okay?” George smiled sweetly, to which she just nodded, too tired to argue back this once.

“Thanks,” She murmured, reaching into her case to find her pyjamas.

While she went to change in the bathroom, the two men stood together in the kitchen, very aware that they were quite drunk by now.

“She’s good isn’t she,” George mused, stacking more plates into the sink that washed them.

“See, I knew you’d come round to her.” Fred accused. “I didn’t dislike her!”

“You weren't mad about her.” 

“And you are?”

There was a moment of silence, which worried George, as he knew his brother all too well. If what he’d asked wasn’t true, then Fred would immediately deny it, in turn sounding guilty. But the silence always meant he was right.

“She’s different,” He finally spoke up, focusing his attention on drying whatever came from the sink.

“She’s also living here Freddie.”

“I know, it’s not ideal, but I just like her.” “Everyone likes her, she’s well- she’s her.” George stuttered, never having heard his brother talk about a girl this way before. Even his high school crushes had been purely based on appearances.

“Exactly, I can’t help it.”

“And say you tell her- and she doesn’t feel the same, which is very possible-” “I know.” Fred snapped.

“She has nowhere else to go, and telling her something like that would force her away… you know it would.”

The sound of the bathroom door opening echoed across the loft, making both men jolt into action, trying to seem as natural as possible despite the air of awkwardness around them.

“Night you two,” Y/n smiled, leaning into the kitchen.

“Night darling.” George replied, wondering whether he should drop that nickname around Fred.

“Night y/n.” He barely looked up from the sink, watching his reflection distort in a handful of spoons, with the hope that she would just go to bed.

The girl, luckily for him, was still very much tipsy and didn’t notice anything wrong with either of the twins as she turned and headed for the sofa. George stepped closer to the sink, watching to make sure she couldn’t hear them.

“Look Fred,” He whispered.

“It doesn’t matter okay, leave it.” He threw the cloth down with an agitated sigh, obviously not having thought over the consequences to his little crush, and went to leave.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

John lifts both hands at the not-so-subtle scolding he is addressed, showing Justine his palms in a pacifying gesture. He hadn't meant to jump to conclusions or put the blame where it doesn't belong. However, through their meetings, it has become more and more evident just how similar the two of them are. Making assumptions because of that can become extremely easy when his mind isn't at its sharpest.

"Soz, luv, me bad," he apologises, not because he feels that bad, but mostly because he doesn't want the mood of the night to sour. "I gots caught up in picturin' woh I woulda done in tha' scenario. N' yeh know tha' I'm one rite selfish dop'ead. But jus' 'cause I'm th' one who makes tha' kind of bloody messes all th' time, I shouldn't 'ave assumed tha's true for yeh too."

Justine has proven herself to be as reckless and impulsive from time to time, but it's also true that she also has her shit pulled together a lot more than he does. And her next words just prove that fact once again.

"Cheers to yeh den," he comments, clinking their empty glasses together. Damn, he should really ask for a refill, especially if that's the sort of conversation they will be having. "As for me, there ain't many t'in's left I'd die for. These days, I'm more focused on not dyin'." Even if that means throwing someone else under the bus. "I ain't foolin' meself, 'cause I know tha' when dis bloody reality will want me dead, I'll 'ave no sayin' in it, but till den...I'd rather keep me soul tied to th' mortal plane."

He lets out a little snort at her comment about the Devil never lying. It's a way of saying and he knows that, but he can't help finding it funny because of how untrue that can be. Depending on which Devil you're talking about.

"Dunno if yeh realise it or nay, but...yeh're one lucky motherfucker. Aye, dyin' ain't a fun piece o' cake, but yeh gots woh most folks look for n' ne'er find. A meanin', somet'in' tha' makes yeh say 'dis was all bloody worth it'. Would be lyin' if I said tha' I dun envy yeh for tha'."

"Yer quite bold t'assume that I changed anything, John." kind eyes narrow slightly at his brazen rush into a thought. "The kids that looked as if they'd lost everything but their ability to fight... they came to me, nah the oth'r way 'round. Showed up in my world, my people saw 'em. People that mah kids ain't seen in likely years back in they's time." but the warmth returns to the semi retired bodyguard's visage as she leans back in her seat, beginning to finally talk.

"I'm no stranga' to the idea of the universe, of time wanting to happen n' so it will. Why do ya think I did nothin' to stop my death? Cuz, here's the thing about dyin', from mah perspective." nails rasp against the table for a moment, a jittering rhythm between the here and the then. "You can preach to the choir all ya want, that you'd die for anyone. But what do you fall for? What do you, as the fighter, as the warrior, as the rebel, as the eventual martyr, truly find yaself fallin' for? What's worth dying for, and what's worth losing? The world's a damn fickle place, John. But one thing you c'n count on, is that the devil never lies and nature will always bring a new storm."

a chortle results of her words, leaning forward once more as she finally hums to a stop in her ramblings as well. "Dyin' wasn't fun. But knowin' that one of the boys I protected with my death is a new hero in tha makin'? I'd do it every time, no hesitation."

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

Send me Ⓐ and my muse will rate yours || Accepting !

@defyxoblivion sent: Ⓐ Klarion Bleak, the Witch Boy

Attractiveness:

repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words

"Woh? I gots eyes. Th' lad's good-lookin', n' aye, he's sort o' cute when he dun gets th' most basic social shite." Cue to an amused snort. "N' I bet tha' he could look...appealin' under the rite circumstances. If yeh catch me drift."

Personality:

grating || irritating || frustrating || boring || confusing at best || awkward || unreasonable || psychotic || disturbing || interesting || engaging || affectionate || aggressive || ambitious || anxious || artistic || bad tempered || bossy || charismatic || appealing || unappealing || creative || courageous || dependable || unreliable || unpredictable || predictable || devious || dim || extroverted || introverted || egotistical || gregarious || fabulous || impulsive || intelligent || sympathetic || talkative || up beat || peaceful || calming || badass || flexible

"Personality wise, he's a wee bit...less attractive. Dun get me wrong, th' lad 's bright, even too bloody smart for 'is own sake at times, but he ain't th' easiest person to deal wit'. He can be a friggin' pain in th' arse. N' I'd know, 'cause I'm one too. Blimey, I swear tha' if I gots white before me time, it's goin' to be his fault."

How likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex

"Theoretically speakin'? I wouldn't mind at all. He's attractive n' I'm curious to see 'ow he'd act if propositioned. Cor, th' last time I mention fuckin' to 'im, he said some shite 'bout friggin' marriage. It was hilarious."

Level of Friendship:

never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend

"Me official role is Klarion's 'babysitter'. Zee calls it 'guardian', but trust us, I'm bleedin' babysittin' an eternal teenager wit' a jus' as lastin' identity crisis. It wouldn't be too bad, if it wasn't tha' said lad 's far too powerful for e'eryone's sake. But we've been in each other's 'air for a while now n' I think yeh can say tha' we're mates too."

First impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"Our first meetin' wasn't woh yeh'd call pleasant. N' after tha' Zee dumped 'im under me protection n' I spent a bloody week keepin' 'im n' 'is fuckin' cat under locks. It wasn't easy. At all. I slept even less than I usually did 'cause I felt like I couldn't turn me eyes away from 'em. Tho, I gots to say tha' by th' end o' it, we were already startin' to get alon'. Yeh sure as 'ell can't be bored 'round someone like 'im."

Current impression of them:

I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them

"Th' crazy lad grew on me. I could say tha' he didn't, but it's bloody obvious. He still drives me mad more often than not, but...he's fun to be 'round. He challenges me n', while I love a quiet day as any other bloke, I enjoy th' rite kind o' stimulation too. Also, he grew up n', blimey, he turned out friggin' easy on th' eye."

How good of a kisser:

worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed

"I dunno 'ow much kissin' experience he gots, but I bet tha' he probably kiss like a bloody virgin. So, 's goin' to take 'im lots o' practice to catch up wit' oul me. Or, even easier, I could teach 'im a few tricks meself."

[reluctant-mandalore]

🎃Mandoctober🎃Day 15: Jetpack

In all your time of traveling with the Mandalorian, you’ve never actually seen him use his jetpack. After some pestering, he decides to show you him using the device and it doesn’t turn out how either of you expected it to. 

Warnings: fluff, a dash of angst, mild injury? (nothing really mentioned but its implied), not beta read

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader (meant to be romantic, but could be read as close friends)

Word count: 1,389

a/n: so this originally started out as a wip in my folders called ‘din go woosh’ and I never thought I’d ever post it. But here we are! I thought it fit this Mandoctober theme quite well, so I hope you enjoy!

After seeing many of the other Mandalorians at the convert using their own jetpacks, Din Djarin began to desperately crave having his own. He thought they looked useful, and admittedly thought they seemed to be fun. That’s why he was ecstatic to finally have one in his possession when the time had come. 

 When he got his own jetpack, he had found himself finding almost any excuse to use it. Needed to go to the market? Jetpack. Have to climb a mountain? Jetpack. The kid wanted to have some fun? Jetpack. The answer to any of the problems he faced would dwindle down to a solution somehow using his new jetpack. His craze for the Jetpack did eventually die down though, and by the time he had met you, he only seemed to use it when he felt that it was necessary. 

The one day after putting the child down for a nap, you watched as the Mandalorian rummaged around in a crate located down in the hull. The blinding light reflecting off of the jetpack secured on his back caught your eye, and you had found yourself staring at the device. In your short time with him, you had always seen him wearing the jetpack, but you hadn’t actually seen him use it even once. When asked, he insisted that he did so quite frequently, but at this point you found yourself doubting his claim. 

“I’ve never seen you use it.” you had said out of the blue, poking the side of the device with an eyebrow raised, “Does it even work?”

“Of course!” He scuffed while pulling away from the crate, crossing his arms as he stared at you with his famous glare, “Why wouldn’t it work?” 

A hum had left you at his reply, not being too overly worried with the glare he was throwing your way, as you were used to it by now after all the time you had spent with him. It still wouldn’t stop you from circling around him with a teasing smile plastered to your cheeks, “Show me then.” 

Din had stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing in surprise from your sudden challenge. He had then squared his shoulders, closing the distance between the two of you so that he was only a hair away. The sudden closeness had caused your heart to thud louder, and made a small ripple of heat wash over your skin. You weren’t prepared for him to get so close to you so quickly, and it left you feeling a bit uneasy as you locked your gaze with his. 

“Let’s go outside.”

A cheeky grin had spread wide on your face from his words, and the sight of it made the man before you huff again. He turned, and you followed him down the ramp to the outdoors, a cheery tune leaving you with each step taken. 

Excitement filled you from the thought of finally being able to see him using the jetpack first hand and you watched him set up impatiently. He had done a small stretch of his back muscles, allowing for his shoulders to loosen as he prepared himself for take off. The need to impress you, even just a little bit, nibbling at his mind as he did. 

Finally the moment came, and he glanced towards you as he pressed the button that would send him flying into the sky. Only this time when he had pressed it, absolutely nothing had occurred. The Mandalorian’s feet had remained firmly on the ground—the device on his back letting out a small puff of smoke—before seemingly dying on the spot.  

A long awkward pause had followed, no words said between the two of you, as your gazes slowly locked with each other.  The Mandalorian cleared his throat, before pulling the device off his back to give it a look over. His annoyance with the whole occurrence was clear as he went to see what was wrong and work on trying to fix the jetpack. 

“I used it just the other day,” He said while fiddling with the jetpack awkwardly, an irritated sigh leaving him. “I don’t understand why it’s not working.”

Leaning over to look at the malfunctioning jetpack, your brows furrowed at watching his steadily increasing frustrations with it, “Are you sure you know how to use it properly?”

“Of course I do!”

“Really? Doesn’t look that way.” You had grinned, teasing him in an attempt to hopefully ease some of his frustration, but the glare he threw over his shoulder at you quickly made the smile fall from your face. 

A loud click had sounded from the device, making the Mandalorian perk up at the sound of it, “Hey I think I got it-” 

As if on queue, Din was thrown back by the jetpack into the side of the Razor Crest. The sound of him hitting the ship making a loud clang due to his beskar colliding with the metal side. His body had slid down the surface, frozen with shock due to the sudden impact he had just experienced with the ship. 

The sight was the most terrifying thing you had seen in a long time—not expecting to bear witness to one of the fiercest warriors in the Galaxy flung like a rag doll.  Dread had instantly pooled in your chest, with your heart instantly shattering at the sight of your companion now slumped against the ship. 

“Din!” You had practically screamed, panic flowing through you while running over to his side. “Are you ok?”

He had coughed and nodded, sitting up properly with your help supporting him, “Y-Yeah… I’m fine.” 

“Can you stand?” 

His only reply this time was a nod, the embarrassment he felt keeping him from speaking again, an unseen blush settling on his skin. He let out a groan when you helped pull him up, allowing for his weight to be supported by your own tense grip. He had stumbled slightly into you as he got to his feet, and in return you had steadied him with your body, letting him lean against you as he grabbed his bearing again. 

After he had managed to ground himself, you had hugged him tightly, your voice wavering as you spoke, “I’m so glad you’re ok.” 

Mando had stiffened at the hug before relaxing and returning your embrace. He held you for a long moment, your body shaking in his arms from your nerves still going into overdrive because of the whole experience. Tears had even begun to form at the corners of your eyes, and one of his hands came to brush the salty drops from your cheeks as they fell. 

“I’m fine, I’ve suffered through worse.” He said again, trying to lighten the mood as he rubbed soothing circled onto you back. This gesture from him had only made you nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck though, sniffles leaving you as he continued to try and comfort you. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

Pulling back you looked up at him and smiled softly, “Din you don’t need to apologize, I was just surprised and worried, that’s all.”

The Mandalorian had hummed again at your reply, giving you another rub along your back, as you finally began to feel more calmed from your shock. His gaze had briefly gone from yours, to looking down at the smoking pack laying near both your feet. Seeing the Jetpack in its current state made him sigh, and he pulled back from you to pick it up while muttering bitterly to himself. 

“You know... I think your jetpack may need to be fixed.” You said, a teasing smile once again finding itself onto your features. 

“You think?” He chuckled at your words, motioning his head towards the ramp leading back into the ship. “Come on, let’s head back in. I think we’ve had enough of the jetpack for today.”

The two of you had headed back inside the Razor Crest after his words. The Mandalorian and you bickering amongst each other about how to fix the jetpack the whole way back—smiles both high on your cheeks. Although the two of you didn’t know exactly why the device wasn’t working, it was safe to say that you wouldn’t be seeing the Mandalorian using his jetpack anytime soon.

---

Tags: 

@a-seeker-of-imagination​ @starrywatermelon​ @remmyswritings​ @ah-callie​ @karnita-mexicana​ @readsalot73​

[mypersonmyg]

ready player 2 | kth

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg

wc: 1.1k

warnings: n/a

summary: you don’t know why you need all these tokens OR taehyung shows his true colors

a/n: omfg it took me like 20 mins to get the banner to download skjdnfkjd;vberbhdsk

prompt 20.  T - Token. Person A gives person B and/or C+ something of theirs. Or arcade tokens. Or both??

november drabbles masterlist

main masterlist

“Here you are,” Taehyung passes a cup, the slight slosh of tokens ringing in your canals, already overwhelmed with pings, dings, and screams with every turn. You glance the contents, plastic nearly threatening overflow, your wrist already being worked desperately under metallic weight. 

“Why do I need this many tokens? Do you think I’m gonna need this many replays?” Taehyung chuckles at your manner of defense, taking your hand to drag over to a vacant display. You recognize the figures, now moved on to bigger and better systems, though Taehyung seems to believe this system reigns supreme. 

“No, you dork, the more we win the better our prizes.” He nimbly slots two tokens, your eyes bulging in absurdity at the overpriced novelty. You wager your cup won’t reach as far as your thoughts intended upon initial consumption. “I’ll go first, this one is single player.” 

You gracefully step to the side, screen in full view as characters are chosen and prepared for combat. You’re prepared to cheer Taehyung to victory, sure your presence will be only a trace of what lines the minds of patrons passing and yelling in passionate fits. Your eyes are aglow with the flash of rapid play, this place filled to the brim with machines much the same, like the strobe of a club without the sensual rub of bodies. 

The tell-tale jingle of the game before you chirps and you ready for the strategic press of buttons that you’re sure Taehyung possesses. This isn’t his first time, his eagerness to allow you to a special haunt telling enough that his frequent dates ages before your introductions. 

You’re taken aback when mash of buttons assasults your eyes, strategy all but lost and Taehyung’s win merely dumb luck as his fingers slam to the machine in repeated offense. You flinch with the aggressive nature in his lack of technique, though his smile wide and confident encourages the cheer that had previously died on your lips. 

The duration of the game doesn’t last much more before Taehyung’s avatar is crushed to pieces, earlier confidence knocked with the final blow, smile turning into an annoyed glare at the screen with flashing continuation ,urging another try. 

“Damn, you almost had it,” You lament, glancing for an escape from the brutal gameplay for which you bore witness. “Maybe we could go and try the skeeball machine, I haven’t played in years.”

“In a sec, please? I wanna beat this game, I know I can do it, I mean I used to be a pro.” Taehyung urges with the pout of a puppy, well aware that there’s no avenue in which you’ll steer him wrong. With a sigh you plop two more tokens, peeking at the regenerated screen to watch his play once again. 

You debate advice contrary to his chosen style, but the determined pull of his cheeks and angered pucker of his lips holds you in place, only to offer hopeful smiles when your muscles aren’t contorted in reaction. 

It’s the fourth game, Taehyung still without win, that your boyfriend turns to you with note to the slump in your posture. You attempt to fix your deflated stance before he catches wind but when you fall short he glances to the unoccupied skeeball machine with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry, let’s go play skee ball. I guess I’ve just lost my touch.” He leads you to the enticing display, signs of the taunt daring you to step forth with all you’ve got. Taehyung slides in the tokens, stepping aside to allow you the spotlight. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

You step up, balls flowing toward you, easily scooped up by suddenly clammy hands. You’re unsure if it’s competitive nature or the gaze you feel piercing from behind, but you force the twitch in your posture to still, tongue poking as you roll your first ball up the narrow alley, watching it fall to the metaphorical gutter with a disappointed sigh. 

“Ugh, I’m worse than I remember.” You laugh it off, lapping up another ball, ready for the kill. Before you’ve the chance to follow through you’re met with the surprise of hands at your waist. 

“You’re just nervous. Relax, baby,” Taehyung hums in your ear. As if his words are queue, your shoulders seem to collapse, breath evening whilst your eyes lock on target. “There we go.”

Taehyung steps away and you easily take your next shot, the ball sinking into the most difficult hole. You turn to Taehyung who’s already smiling with adoration, a wink sent your way. After his spot of encouragement you sink shot after shot, the game coming out in your favor and your arms wrapping around Taehyung who twirls you on the spot. 

“I did it!”

“You did, I knew you could. You wanna go again? Or we could try another game, I saw a shooting one over in the corner if you wanna--”

“It’s your turn.” You point back towards his earlier defeat, Taehyung shaking his head with adamance. “Yes! You helped me win, so now it’s my turn to return the favor.” 

“You’ve got some tips for me?” His voice pitches, surprised that you were paying much attention to his game given your earlier stupor. 

“Babe, I can’t believe I’m saying this, I’m truly appalled, but you’re a button masher.” You say the words incredulously, Taehyung’s brows crinkling at the observation. “You smash ‘em like ants on a picnic table and it’s not workin’ for ya.” 

“Are you really critiquing my playing style right now? Fine, let’s see you do it.” 

“Gladly!” You waltz to the machine, still clear from earlier attempts tokens slipping in like routine. “Now, you have to actually watch what your opponent is doing, use strategy instead of just mashing keys and hoping it turns out in your favor.” 

Your fingers are cracked with a hint of arrogance before placed strategically along the buttons. You follow the beats of the jingle, waiting for the fade in before your fingers move effortlessly, watching the dips and dives of your computer opponent. Unlike Taehyung, you end the game in minutes, victory tearing across the screen in bold letters. 

“See?” You turn to a wide eyed, slack jawed boy, a kiss placed to his cheek with a giggle.

“Is it possible to fall even more in love with you? Cause I think I just did,” He grins, tickets spilling from the machine. “If you can do that about a hundred more times I think we’ll have enough tickets for an inflatable guitar or maybe even a harmonica!” 

“You’re ridiculous, you try it.” You attempt to shove him forward, but he readily declines holding you in position. “Tae, you said you wanted to win and I’m trying to help you win!” 

“Well now I just wanna watch you win over and over again. Besides, once a button masher, always a button masher.” 

“Taeh--”

“Once a button masher, always a button masher!” He insists, slotting in tokens, “Now get going, I really want that harmonica!”

[talldarkandroguesome]

5th of Evening Star, Sundas

I would like to officially move to a cave and become a hermit for the next century. How fetching mortifying the whole ordeal has become!

As it turned out, Luayl had not actually recognized me and decided to keep things professional. He had not even realized it could be me.

The start of the lesson was fine, just as normal.

He had devised a way for me to move from the mind set I was used to doing magic in to a different one by way of having me to a small set of motions with my whole body as I did a series of breathing exercises.

The whole of it, he said, would eventually be unnecessary, but to start it would give me a physical and mental queue to switch so that I could start creating a division.

First he showed me the series of movements, demonstrating, then having me go through it with him. As he is so want to do, when there was something off, he would come behind me and move my body into the position.

I was beginning to understand the movements with his help, but I was concentrating so hard on trying to make the flow from one position to the next smooth, that I stopped concentrating on preventing my Prince’s boon from activating and I became overwhelmed with the visions of Luayl’s secrets.

The more recent things were all about various House plots, things about those targets he had to kill, the usual. But eventually as things moved into the past, I realized what I was going to see and I pushed him away, knocking myself to the floor and scrambling backwards quickly.

He looked shocked for a moment and then reached out a hand to help me up, apologizing for anything he may have done to offend.

I flattened myself against the stone wall behind me and told him I just needed to sit there for a minute. Just to let me breathe and to please, please, not touch me until I could get my concentration back under control.

To Luayl’s credit, he went and took a seat on the ground some distance away and tried not to stare too hard at me, though I could feel his gaze.

I was so embarrassed and even once I had calmed down, I dreaded what questions he might ask of me.

Instead, he felt terrible, apologizing for whatever had happened to me in the field and for touching me in a way that would bring back whatever painful memories they might be.

It left me having to decide between lying and letting him feel bad, or trying to explain, somehow, some of the situation.

The longer he stayed in silence nearby, the harder it was for me to do anything other than to feel bad about him in the situation. So I took a deep breath and stood up, forcing all of my feelings to be pushed down into a box that I shut tight. There was no place for emotions here. Sure, he would know what I was doing, but he would probably accept it was necessary, or so I thought.

Luayl asked me if I wanted to stop for the day and I told him no.

He asked if it would be too presumptuous to ask what had happened, that he might refrain from doing so again. I told him that, as I was not fully in control of my magicka, I had a sort of glitch that had befallen me, not exactly a curse or an enchantment, but something that was imprinted upon me, that allowed me glimpses into the darkness of a person’s past. That it transferred through touch and for those of us with such pasts, it could be rather overwhelming to take so much in. That I usually was able to hold it back, but that I had let myself relax too much.

Luayl looked very much concerned and told me he could put on some gloves in order to help, unless it would not work or I was uncomfortable with being touched as a result.

I told him that I did find his methods very useful and that, usually after having such things flow into me, it was very easy to prevent from happening again. That as soon as it started, I did not want to risk learning anything that he would not want to share, as it was not my place to know it.

He thanked me for honoring his privacy and asked a few questions about the power behind it. I said it was much like a tightly sealed bottle of overly fermented, active liquor. The first time there is a greater pressure inside and the longer you let it continue to ferment without opening, the harder it is to not have the cork pop out and shoot with it, a great deal of the contents. Yet once exposed to the air, that pressure is so lessened that there is no more to worry about for a very long time.

A clumsy sort of metaphor, but I believe he understood.

I felt so like a child as I sat there and Luayl checked me over to make sure I was fine and that his touch would not trigger anything. Acting as though I were made of parchment thin glass.

I am sure my face was a particularly unappealing shade of purple by this point, so flushed I was with his gentle touch and then checking that it was not a problem.

We switched to working on the breathing exercises for a while and I was grateful that he was still willing to work with me.

Eventually, though, we had to return to putting the movements and breathing together.

After a few times where I was not exactly successful in my timings, he asked if I would like to be his shadow, standing behind him, my arms over his and legs pressed to his, to feel the timing and movements together.

I said yes before my brain allowed me to think of how poor an idea it was.

It was too late by then, of course, he was already taking the starting position and asked me to work through the breathing with him as we moved.

We took the first breath and started, but we stopped and he told me that I was too far behind him and that I would not be able to get the timings right.

All of me wanted to obey. I pressed myself closely against him, breathing in on his queue and my lungs filling with that scent that was so uniquely his. I let his body carry me through the movements, relishing in the graceful way that his body shifted against me. There was so much subtly in some of those movements that I had completely misinterpreted. 

He asked me if I understood and I could only nod as I got into the initial position. I went through the exercise, concentrating on all the ways that his body had felt beneath me and when I opened my eyes at the end, he stood there with a smile and told me that I looked far improved.

Next he asked me to try the spell of summoning a scamp at the end.

I thought about how I had summoned the shadow scamp and then went through the exercise, at the end, I attempted the spell and from the space in front of me, came the ragged sound of a scamp breathing.

Sure enough, it was solid. Not a shadow. A real scamp.

Of course, the binding had yet to be done and the creature raised it’s claws in the air and began to summon its spells. I did the intermediate breathing and then tried to cast the binding.

It did not work and I had to dodge out of the way as a long line of flame began to extend out from the scamp.

I cast banish Daedra and the thing gave a cry as it returned to Oblivion.

Luayl gave me an approving nod. He made verbal suggestions, pointing out where I had gone wrong with the binding, but praised my quick thinking with the banishment.

He was particularly glad to see that I was able to use his devised method to switch my thinking.

And then, in an act of complete idiocy, I told him that his methods had always been good at getting me over the obstacles in my way.

At first he thanked me, but then he got a sort of queer look come over his face.

He stepped closer to me and grabbed my chin in his hand and tilted it upward, staring into my face. He asked me if we had not worked together on a mission, perhaps once when he was younger.

I realized, with mounting dread that he had not, in fact, known who I was the entire time.

I stammered something softly that it was something like that, hoping to have him drop the subject, to try and keep from his realizing where he knew me from. Surely he would be furious to meet me again. I had cost him so very much. And he was not likely to have forgotten that anytime soon. 

He seemed discontent with that answer, but I told him that we were almost out of time in the lesson.

He seemed to take that as a queue and tried to shake it off and go back to teaching, but I could see that he was still working to try and discover where he knew me from.

We tried two more times and then I begged off, saying I had duties to attend to, but thanked him for his hard work.

I practically ran back out the doors. Since I had been able to recast my mark to my room after the last lesson, I teleported back as soon as I was out of sight of the door. I went down to the cellar and sat on the cold floor, enjoying pouring out the contents of one of the fortified wines into my throat as quickly as I could manage safely.

I woke up in my bed with a pounding headache and Avon staring down at me very angrily.

I told him that I could not deal with his anger right now.

He told me I had better tell him what was going on right away or he was going to take Sildras on a tour of the Mages Guilds in Black Marsh for a few days until I sorted myself out.

I groaned and asked him if he recalled the incident with my early days in Intelligence. He mentioned a few occasions where I did some sort of prank that ended up getting me in trouble.

I sighed and said no, the incident with my mentor.

Avon’s anger dropped and he said he did.

I told him that my new teacher at Shad Astula was him.

Avon asked if I meant it was really the same mer.

I said yes, one in the same.

Avon asked if he had recognized me.

I told him I had thought so, but then today he had made it clear he did not and that he had said he thought he recognized me from somewhere and it was only a matter of time before he did.

Avon sat down on the bed searching for something to say.

He settled on a simple, bloody hell, before falling back into silence. 

I just sighed and asked if there was anything around to drink.

He told me that, even if I could come back from the dead, he was not going to deal with my drunk corpse, so I better stop trying to drown myself in liquor.

I asked if I could just stay at home and not go back.

Avon told me that, even if I did not go, Luayl was likely to find a way to break into the manor and murder me in my sleep if he wanted to. It was better to face him and maybe talk him out of things first, if possible.

I asked if I could just go out of town instead.

Avon snapped that I had to be responsible and set a good example for Sildras.

He is right of course and I buried my face in the cushions of the bed.

Avon gave me a hug and told me that it would work out.

Probably.

He did not leave this time, but rather, stayed and stroked my hair until I fell back into a fitful sleep.

There is nothing I am looking forward to less than having to face Luayl. I must be on my guard today.

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

Discussed starter for @heksery - John & Juliana

John took one last look at the map, before folding it and messily stuffing it in one of the pockets of his trench coat. Blue eyes took in the half buried pyramid in front of him, following the angles of the worn stone that time and bad weather had eroded and chipped away. The name of this particular temple was long lost, but his sources were reliable enough to leave him very few doubts.

It was the right place, the lost lost building where the Haab had been hidden centuries before.

The magician pulled out a ruined package of Silk Cut, slipping a cigarette between his lips, before lighting it up with a small flame conjured on the tip of his thumb. He had spent a few years trying to locate that artefact. It had mostly been a side project, since he had had his hands full with more urgent business. In the last few months, however, life had surprisingly allowed him some breathing space, and he had decided to use it to take precautions to prevent a possible apocalypse for once, instead of rushing to stop it at the last moment, as it usually happened.

His steps were cautious as he approached the entrance, hidden away behind vines and debris. There was no telling what sort of magic might be protecting the place, even if he was pretty sure that it had to be of the nasty kind. After all, this was a temple dedicated to Kukulkan, the bloodthirsty Feathered Serpent. John had never met this one particular deity, but from the tales he had heard he had to be one nasty, self-righteous bastard.

Caution wasn't his forte, but lately he had had one brush too many with death and was ready to at least try to avoid unnecessary risks.

He was about to reach out and see if he could pull at the vines and squeeze inside without needing to use magic, when the sounds of approaching steps caught his attention.

The conman instantly turned his head in that direction, brows furrowing as he spotted a black-haired woman advancing towards his. Her clothes, while somewhat suitable for the kind of hike that led to the temple, still looked too expensive to fully fit their setting. Or, perhaps, it was the contrast between her outfit and John's creased and stained clothing.

Blimey. The last thing he had been expecting and wanted from that trip was to have company. No matter how good-looking the stranger could be. If she was there, it meant that she was after the artefact too, and that alone made her the bad kind of company.

"Oi, yeh lost, luv?" He called out nonchalantly, as if they had bumped into each other in some nameless alley in the suburbs. "I gots some business to take care o', so soz but I can't take yeh back. But I can show yeh th' direction to reach th' closest town."

And with that, he made a vague gesture towards the path he had made for himself while trudging through the forest.

"Dis ain't no fun place, 'specially at nite, so yeh might wants to 'urry up n' 'ed back."

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

John has to admit that he is impressed. He had expected Eliza to handle herself in that sort of setting, but the woman is doing so much more than just not attracting attention. She moves and holds herself as if she had all the rights to be there, as if this was normal for her.

But it isn't, it? She works as a librarian at Arkham. The one they are currently attending is reserved for people with money and power. So, she either is a much better actress that he has given her credit for, or there's a big part of her history that he doesn't know about.

"Ta, luv. From me wallet's n' Chas's part too," he jokes, lips twitching in one of his teasing smirk.

However, the grin quickly falls at the sight of Eliza's back arching oh-so-gracefully. His grip on her waist tightens instinctively, but he almost doesn't notice, too busy staring at how her limbs move, making the move look as easy as breathing.

The magician is so very sure that it is not. If he were to try anything of the sort, he would probably fall on his ass and look like the fool he is.

"Cor blimey, woh th' 'ell was tha'?" He can't stop himself from asking, eyes wide in disbelief. "Are yeh secretly a bloody ballerina or somet'in'? N' since we're askin' questions...'Ave yeh been to a part like dis before, or are yeh jus' a natural?"

Still, despite his astonishment, he doesn't miss to take the glass she's offering him. If there's something that John Constantine never miss, that's alcohol. And trouble, of course, but that's a whole other story.

It's difficult for her not to get swept up in it all. The dancing, the music, John looking particularly handsome. And who knew he could actually dance!

"I see," so her little mirror trick probably wouldn't work. Though should things go south she can always give them a quick exit. Eliza's heels click on the polished floor and they spin, ever so slightly bringing herself closer to John. Only in the name of keeping up appearances of course.

"Got it, I'll let you do the bidding then." Eliza leans back in an impressive display of flexibility and grabs them two drinks from a passing waiter. With a grin, the terrible show-off hands him one before taking a sip herself.

Sure they have a job to do, but why not have a bit of fun?

[crackedoutgiraffe]

To The Moon and Back

A/N: This is from a work I have on AO3, this is chapter 3 from Spencer’s POV. My username is giraffecrack. GIF by @cassidyandtuliplove​

Word Count: 1,775

Warnings: Fluff

SPENCER’S POV (italics represent Spencer’s thoughts)

That morning was like any other morning. I woke up at 7 am, put on my regular sweater vest and tie. I fixed my scruffy hair and brewed my first cup of coffee. We had gotten back from a case a few days before so it was a given that I needed to bring my go-bag, pre-packed with plenty of ties and sweater vests. As I sat down at my table, I pick up the book I was reading last night. I didn’t get a chance to finish it yet. Just then the clock struck 7:30, I grabbed both my briefcase and duffle bag and headed to the train station. I never liked driving. There was too much risk involved and I never had the chance to learn when I was 16. With my mom in her own world and me away at MIT, it was just easier to take the metro. 

My walk to Union Station was the same as it always was. Boring. I found a way to make it fun though. Counting the number of people with black hair one day, brown the next, and blonde the day after. The ride to Quantico always gave me extra time in the morning to relax. I would just sit on the seat closest to the door with my bags on my lap and a book in hand. When I finally got to Quantico, it felt different. There was something new, but I couldn’t tell you what it was. I got into the elevator and noticed what was different, there was someone new. She had y/h/c hair and carried her self very confidently, but I had never seen her before. Just as the doors closed she started to walk toward the elevator. I could feel her happiness radiating through the entire building, she had a smile that made you feel like everything was going to be alright. She also had the most beautiful y/e/c eyes. The doors closed, cutting me off from a literal ray of sunshine. 

The entire elevator ride she occupied my mind. Her smile, her hair, her eyes. The elevator doors opened and I went right to my cubicle. I set my stuff down and went to grab a cup of coffee then headed back to my desk. Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ were congregating not too far from my desk. After organizing a few papers, I went to join them. Just then, JJ pointed out someone new walking in, we were used to having new people coming and going from the office, but this was a welcome surprise. It was her. The mystery goddess from the lobby. She started walking toward us but made a detour for the stairs and entered into Hotch’s office.

“I wonder what that is about,” JJ asked.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “I do remember Hotch saying something about interviews for a new member of the team, but I thought he said he wasn’t going to go through with it.”

Dear God, please let her be a new member of the team. We all sat in anticipation, waiting for Hotch to come and say something to us. We saw them get up and head for the door. My heart was racing. Can you please shut up. Hotch and the new girl walked down the hallway to Rossi’s office. I couldn’t help but stare, and she stared back. 

As the minutes passed by we were all still waiting for Hotch to come back and tell us what she was doing here. Finally, she and Hotch left Rossi’s office, she had the biggest smile on her face that showed her perfect teeth. They started to walk down the stairs and head toward the four of us, so we all scrambled to seem busy as to not face the wrath of Hotch.

“Glad to see you guys are working,” Hotch quipped. “I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of the BAU team, Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.” 

Bless the Lord. JJ was the first person to go and greet her. 

“Jennifer Jareau, but everyone calls me JJ,” JJ said with a kind smile. 

Then Prentiss went up, “Emily Prentiss, but everyone calls me… well, Prentiss,” Y/N seemed surprised at something.

“It’s lovely to meet you both” she replied shaking both their hands. 

The next to greet her was Morgan, “I’m Derek Morgan.” She seemed to be flustered by Morgan’s presence. Of course, she would be attracted to Morgan. 

“Do you prefer Derek, or do you have a nickname too?” she quipped. They all laughed at her surprisingly funny joke. 

“Just Derek is fine. Do you have a nickname, or would you prefer me to give you one?”

“Surprise me.”

I was next. Don’t fuck this up. “Hi, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid,” I said, extending one arm for a handshake. She looked at me weird. What was she looking for?

“Dr.?” you said with a smirk, reciprocating his handshake that went on a bit too long. 

“Dr.” I replied still not letting go of the handshake. 

 Hold on, what was that? Reid stop staring you look weird. I couldn’t stop staring. Now that we were closer, I could get a good look at her eyes. They were y/e/c with little flecks of green toward the middle. She smelled fantastic, like roses and lavender. Everything about her was perfect. Her face, her body, and from these first few seconds I’ve known her, her personality. 

“But we just call him pretty boy,” Derek said, hitting me on the back, releasing us both from our trance. 

“Ok, pretty boy,” she replied, looking him up and down while messing with her hair.

“Round table meeting in 5,” Hotch announced right on queue. JJ and Prentiss started to approach her and lead her away and out of the bullpen. She was perfect. The way her hips moved when she walked. The way she smiled seemed to make all the problems in the world go away. The way her hair bounced and flowed on her shoulders. And to think she couldn’t be any better, she was a Dr. Finally someone on the team who could match his intelligence.

“Oh, it looks lit pretty boy has a crush,” Morgan announced.

I turned around in shock, “I do not.”

“Then what’s with the staring,” he whispered. Was it that noticeable? 

Finally, it was time for the roundtable meeting, “Alright let’s get started,” Hotch said, walking in and sitting down. “Garcia.”

“Does anyone remember this picture,” Garcia started.

“Hotch and I were there,” Rossi answered Garcia’s peculiar question. “That’s principal Doug Givens, we had to drag him to safety.”

“High school bombing in Boise, right?” she added. The way her lips moved with every beautiful word she spoke, she was a goddess. incarnate

“School shooter and school bomber,” JJ continued. “A kid named Randy Slade shot 3 students and then set off an I.E.D. in the school cafeteria via cell phone, killing himself and 13 kids total, but not before posting all of his plans online. It was one of those ‘where were you events’. My whole campus was glued to the TV”

Garcia nodded looking at her tablet, “Last night principal Givens was killed by a bomb modeled exactly like the old one.”

“It feels like the unsub wants to attack the man who kept the whole school together after the bombing,” Morgan added. “It’s a pretty symbolic target.”

“And this week is the tenth anniversary of the massacre,” she added

“And today is the first day of a 4-day event to commemorate the bombing at the school,” Garcia continued.

“Except commemorating it isn’t enough for this unsub,” she said.

“No, he wants to relive it,” Hotch said. “Alright wheels up in 30.” As we all left the room she was called to stay back, but a few moments later she left. She left the BAU, where was she going? Did she get fired already? No, that couldn’t be the case

I walked back to the room to find Hotch, “Where is Y/N going?” 

“She’s going home to pack, shell meet us at the airfield.” And with that, all your worries went away. She wasn’t leaving, she was just packing. 

The rest of the morning went like normal. I had my third cup of coffee, grabbed my bags, and headed for the airfield. I arrived a few minutes early so I could get a good seat on the plane. I ended up sitting at the table for four with the window seat. As I got settled, I noticed she and JJ walking toward the plane at the same time. They were almost indistinguishable. Prentiss came and sat next to me, and to my surprise, Y/N sat across from me with JJ right next to her. We sat on the plane for half an hour before starting to talk about the case. I was able to read about 1200 pages in that time. 

“Perpetrators of school violence are often sophisticated with their weapons. Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack. This guy hid his in Givens' clock radio,” I noted. 

“Yeah, and progressive,” Prentiss added. “Each one tries to top the body

count of the one previous.”

“And they're loners by default, not by choice,” she said. “They try to join various social

groups, but they get shut out.”

“Randy Slade wasn't a loner at all,” Hotch said.

“The family cooperated fully with us,” Rossi noted. “He was a high-functioning psychopath, straight-A student, varsity wrestler, lots of girlfriends.”

“With an above-average intelligence that made him incredibly resourceful,” I added. “His explosive of choice was Semtex. It's found at demolition sites, but it's held under lock and key.”

“Which made us consider the possibility of a partner,” Rossi continued. “Never found one.”

“Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit,” Hotch said. “But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub.”

“His sense of control?” she asked.

“And the end game that he's working toward. Slade's pathology revolved around the big kill,” Hotch noted.  “This unsub could have done the same if he'd waited for the candlelight vigil.”

“Which means there's no blaze of glory fantasy here,” Rossi added. “This unsub has

more bombs made, and he's savoring the anticipation of his next attack.”

“You and Reid can go to the medical examiner when we land to examine the bodies. Morgan, Prentiss and I will set up at the police station. JJ and Rossi, you two will visit the crime scene.” Hotch commanded. Once he finished, everyone returned to what they were doing.

[thecursedhellblazer-arc]

[OOC] I made this from my main blog, but it applies to this one too!

This blog is low activity and it will remain such, but I'd still like to know what could make it a little more interactive. I'd rather not increased the number of my threads too much, but there's some room for more interactions, especially shorter / easier ones.

If you could vote what you prefer, it would help a lot!

[classysassy9791]

Sometimes its the quieter moments that speak the loudest. A story of love, laughter, and friendship carried through the years during the most wonderful season of all. Full of fluff and Christmas cheer. Interconnecting One-shots.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Friendship Pairings: InuKag, MirSan, SessKagu Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l

Chapter 10: Silver Bells Word Count: 1700 Can also be found here

.

.

.

“What about this one?”

Inuyasha’s amber eyes stole themselves away from watching the crowded department store to the green, knit scarf Kagome held in her hands. “Sure.”

She frowned, her fingers working their way over the fabric delicately as she struggled with her decision. Finally, she sighed and dropped the scarf to continue her way through the store, seemingly unbothered by the throng of people pushing past her. 

Inuyasha and Kagome had been weaving through crowds all day, holiday music telling them how joyous they were to be parting with savings it had taken them months to accrue. Inuyasha scoffed bitterly at the thought. Now who was getting his hard-earned money? Some fat CEO? If it was up to him, he would have canceled the present exchange part of Christmas, but he knew Kagome would’ve baulked at the idea. 

She never minded the holiday rush or the amount of stress it caused. Inuyasha, however, despised shopping during this time of year. People were rude, children screamed, and prices were usually outrageous. He believed Christmas was the biggest con job of all time. Some slick marketing jocks told everyone that Christmas came in a box with a pretty ribbon and a prettier price tag . The higher the price, the more the love, right? The commercialization of it all made Inuyasha sick, and always put him in a foul mood. 

“Why don’t we finish our shopping online?” he grumbled as he followed Kagome through another aisle of sweaters. At least online shopping meant he didn’t have to deal with the holiday crowds. 

“That’s so impersonal,” she quipped, throwing him a look over her shoulder. “What if the fabric is itchy? Or the design isn’t as pretty as you had hoped?”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. “Everyone will love anything you get them.” And his words rang true, because although Kagome didn’t know it, she had a knack for choosing gifts. During the rest of the year, she was frugal and spent her money wisely, but when it came to Christmas time, she always went all out. 

“I don’t know,” she mused, fingering another sweater before moving on. “Some people are always so hard to shop for. Like, Miroku and Shippo.”

A heavy-set man shoved past Inuyasha, nearly causing him to fall into a display. “Hey, watch it!” he yelled out to him, only receiving a dirty look in return before the man hurried away. Annoyed, Inuyasha shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he followed Kagome out of the department store, both empty-handed. “Kagome, why do you even care about this stuff, anyway? Christmas ain’t about the presents.”

She smiled up at him with a thoughtful hum. “Well, you’re right. Christmas isn’t about the gifts.” He raised a brow when she didn’t offer a further explanation, and opened his mouth to question her, but was interrupted by-- “Oh, look! It’s Santa Claus!”

Inuyasha’s eyes followed to where Kagome was pointing to see the big man himself all dressed in red. Santa had two elves at his side as he sat on his big throne, a few “ho ho ho”’s being bellowed. A line of eager children and their parents weaved through the town square, the kids bright-eyed in amazement at the sight of Santa. 

“Come on!” Kagome said, tugging on Inuyasha’s hand. “I want a picture with Santa.”

“No way,” he refused, pulling his hand out of her grasp. “No way am I getting a picture with some strange man in a red suit.”

Kagome pouted, looking up at him with the saddest eyes she could muster. “But, Inuyasha… I really want a picture. It’ll be a great memory!”

Inuyasha hated caroling. He hated crowds. He hated taking pictures with Santa, especially with him being an adult now. But, somehow, Kagome always managed to convince him to do things he otherwise wouldn’t, even more so during the holiday season. 

It didn’t help that Kagome’s teeth were sunk into her lower lip, a sensual pout making itself known as she pleaded with him. Inuyasha groaned in reluctance, a grumbled, “fine,” falling from his mouth as she practically skipped with joy to the back of the line. 

They shuffled through the queue  slowly as each child eagerly sat on Santa’s lap to indulge their Christmas wishes this year. The kid in front of them tugged on his mother’s jacket insistently, excited about the elves and feeling star-struck at meeting THE Santa Claus. Inuyasha rolled his eyes at the stupidity of it all. 

“I’m excited to share Christmas with our kids someday,” Kagome off-handedly commented, catching Inuyasha completely off-guard. 

He swung wide amber eyes in her direction, feeling a heated blush work its way up his neck and flush his cheeks. “Our-our kids?!”

A light pink tinged Kagome’s cheeks as she toyed with a lock of her hair. Her brown eyes quickly glanced up at him before averting away. “Well… yeah. I mean… Do you want kids someday?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly trying to look at anything but the blushing girl beside him. “I-I guess I never thought about it.” 

“Well,” she said, grabbing his hand and holding it in hers, smiling up at him. “Think about it.” 

They stayed silent during the rest of their trek through the line. Inuyasha’s mind had been shocked into a muddle of several thoughts, all of which he had a hard time focusing on. Kagome brought up kids and yet he could barely think of where they would be in a few months, let alone a few years. She had taken him completely by surprise. 

Before he knew it, it was their turn to see Santa, and Kagome eagerly moved to stand beside the man in red, with Inuyasha standing on his other. 

“Well, now,” Santa greeted, smiling up at them with a voice filled with cheer. “What’s your name, young lady?”

“Kagome,” she spoke, the blush from earlier now gone. 

He turned to ask Inuyasha the same, but Inuyasha simply scowled at the man. Santa studied him for just a moment before turning his attention back to Kagome, obviously feeling Inuyasha’s disinterest in this little adventure. “And what would you like for Christmas this year, Kagome?” he asked her, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

Kagome exchanged a brief glance with Inuyasha, before leaning down and whispering her answer into Santa’s ear . When she’d finished, Santa chuckled merrily before replying with, “I’ll see what I can do,” in a hushed tone. 

Inuyasha didn’t have time to question the exchange before the photographer called for their attention and snapped a quick picture - after which, of course, Kagome purchased. 

The pair continued their shopping around the town, a slow pile of bags of presents beginning to fill their arms as the hours ticked by. Finally, as the clock struck eight, Kagome had declared their shopping complete while she looked up at him with an accomplished smile. 

The evening streets had thinned as stores began to close for the night. Inuyasha felt himself relax, the bustling of the shopping rush dwindling to no more than a few last-minute shoppers. He breathed in the crisp, evening air, listening to the stillness of the night. Allured by the scent of freshly baked cookies coming from a bakery, Inuyasha tore his gaze off of the enormous Christmas tree in the square, adorned with glistening ornaments and flowing fairy lights draped around it. The sky had turned beautiful, dark shades of blue while the amber light of street lamps spilled onto the stone-paved streets. 

“Feeling better?” Kagome’s voice drew him back, his eyes meeting hers in the dim lighting of a decorated storefront. 

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Never liked the crowds.” 

“I know, but thank you for coming with me. I enjoyed your company.” 

Inuyasha studied her as they paused in walking, her warm gaze meeting his own. Her smile shined like the stars in the sky, with no bright city lights to dim them. She had a touch of exhaustion to her, but she was beautiful all the same. 

“Here,” he mumbled, pulling the shopping bags out of her hands before crouching down in front of her. “Get on.” 

Kagome blushed and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh no, Inuyasha. I’m fine. I can walk.” 

He shot her a look over his shoulder that clearly stated he wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Come on, you’ve been running around all day.”

She looked around reluctantly before finally resigning to his request with a sigh. “I swear if you drop me, Inuyasha, there will be no hot chocolate for you.” 

He chuckled with a shake of his head. “Whatever you say.” 

Inuyasha felt her cautiously grab a hold of his shoulders before clasping her legs around his waist, and his hands folded together beneath her to make her feel secure. Once she was settled, he began walking again, closing the distance between the last few blocks to her home. She rested her head against his back as she relaxed against him. 

They were quiet for a while, Inuyasha simply listening to her steady breath near his ear. The lights around them began to fade as the last few stores shuttered, leaving only the streetlamps and a few strands of Christmas lights decorating the walkway to light their way. Silver bells jingled as they passed by a man dressed in a Santa suit. He smiled at them, wishing them a “Merry Christmas!” as they passed.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome murmured, startling him out of his thoughts. 

“What is it?”

“Christmas isn’t about the presents,” she said, repeating their conversation earlier. 

“Yeah?”

She nodded against his back. “When you have so much, you can only really receive by giving.” 

He raised a brow, glancing back at her questioningly. 

“Love doesn’t come in a box. It can’t be bought or sold. But, the joy someone feels from receiving a gift, from knowing that you had been thinking of them… that feeling can’t be bought or sold either. It’s not about the money spent.”

The snow fell down softly, gently laying itself on the earth. Inuyasha smiled, his thoughts encompassed by a cold, winter night, a brightly lit Christmas tree, and the shining, brown eyes of a child who had silver hair. 

“Daddy!”