#I WILL drink sweet pickle juice and no one can stop me

[angelicvee]

Anyone else but you

writers note: now i know people actually like my fic so far expect long chapters because i could write about these two for hours. also if you have any requests or little thoughts let me know. anddd lmk thoughts on including smut as i haven't actually thought about it yet.

Anyone else but you

Chapter two: fade into you

never, ever wear makeup to a sleepover

—-----

Annie forced herself to breathe despite every ounce of her being just wanting to keel over and never wake again “It’s nice to meet you” she managed to hum in a somewhat regular tone, extending her hand.

Victoria took it, her grip firm and cool. “Please call me victoria.. No need to be so formal, we’re basically friends”

The handshake lasted just a moment too long, a silent acknowledgment of the past. As they released each other’s hands, Annie could feel the weight of unspoken words between them, the tension crackling like static electricity. It felt so strange.. So difficult to just pretend nothing had ever happened between them. 

Victoria’s eyes locked with Annie’s for a brief moment, a silent exchange of memories and words that begged to be heard. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening,” Victoria said, her tone polite.

Annie nodded. “It’s a wonderful event. Very impressive.”

“Thank you,” Victoria replied, her smile unwavering. “Can i get you anything to drink, champagne.. Whiskey?” 

—------

There was very little to choose from in Annie's fridge. Her mother hadn’t exactly planned on having guests over but did Vicky even count as a guest anymore? The two girls were practically conjoined at the hip, spending every possible moment together. The brunette snooped around looking for anything even a little promising, her dark brown eyes illuminated by the flickering yellow of the fridge which seemed to melt over every small detail in its wake. The fridge door was deemed useless, housing nothing but old lemon juice which lay dormant in those tall green bottles, the glass ones though because Annie always broke the plastic. Homemade raspberry jam was probably the most exciting thing, poking out amongst the sea of pickled vegetables which Donna had been insistent on buying. She had convinced her daughter they were the key to all diet issues.. Which Victoria found utterly ridiculous because Annie really didn't need to diet. She was perfect as is.

Sadly the fridge was unhelpful in Victoria's quest to find drinks, although one place did seem a little promising when she stopped to look around the family kitchen. One little cabinet sat hidden away from everything else. It looked so regular and mundane.. Like nothing could possibly be tucked away inside. With a gentle tug the doors opened, it was relatively empty inside except for one, quite large bottle. Amber liquid sat pretty inside the glass cage. Beaming at her discovery, the brunette sauntered out of the kitchen after carefully closing the cabinet. Donna would kill them both if she found out.

Annie on the other hand had been blissfully searching through her pretty large CD collection. She liked to burn them, make special little mixes for Vicky or just gather the albums from random indie artists she found on myspace. There were a few religious bands weaved in, she couldn't help it.. 

The blonde eventually decided on a mix of songs that she had burned recently, smiling to herself with that sweet little grin she always put on. Nestling back into the soft embrace of her bed as the startling sound of glass hitting the wooden floor shattered through her peace. “It's fine.. I'm fine!” The gentle echo of victoria giggling settled the nerves that had briefly formed inside annie. She looked so proud of herself, setting the whiskey bottle in front of Annie before lazily settling on the floor by the girl’s bed. “Score!! Your mom had this hidden away somewhere.. I'm sure she won't notice if we have just a little” 

“Vic.. she’s gonna kill me.. But I'm sure a little isnt going to make too big of a difference right?” the blonde hummed, the corners of her mouth lifting into a subtle smile. Little dimples peeked through but disappeared just as fast when glass hit plush lips. That beautiful liquid gold ran quickly down Annie's throat sending shots of fire on its way down. A string of pained coughs and laughs followed as her face retorted into a slightly disgusted expression

“That's my girl! Look at you.. Such a rule breaker” the brunette teased, taking a swig and placing the bottle on the floor. 

—--

The blonde looked up at Hughie out of instinct. How was it that such a small question brought back so many memories? “I would love champagne, wouldn't you?” her voice was surprisingly calm, sweet even as she held her boyfriend’s arm.

“Interesting, i always assumed you were a whiskey kinda girl” the congresswoman smiled, a knowing tilt to her words. It was torture. How Annie managed to smile through it was a mystery to all people involved. Especially sweet little Hughie who just smiled along, completely oblivious to everything going on.

“Hughie, you can’t go around telling people about me and whisky.. I cant have people catching on to my drinking habits. I'm supposed to be classy” the blonde laughed, forcing a smile.

Hughie chuckled, oblivious to the subtle weight to each line. Honestly he was more caught up in the endless hum of conversation and clinking of glasses that filled the room. It was a little distracting. He had never really adjusted to these events.to the cosy buzz that threaded through each group. The dim lighting cast warm shadows on the walls, the crowd a mixture of familiar faces and strangers. It was all a bit much. 

“I didn't expect Vicky to remember every detail I spewed over our lunches. She’s always too busy stealing my bagels to really pay attention” 

God he was perfect right? Most girls practically beg the lord for a man like hughie.. Well maybe not exactly like him. He talked about her at lunch practically everyday, kept track of events for her, made peace with the fact she wasn't exactly perfect either. The man even sat through the endless threats from homelander… what more could she ask for.

Maybe.. Longer, darker hair that cascaded so gently down her..sorry his back.

“Well maybe you should stop buying them? Sounds like a good fix to me "Victoria teased, her voice carrying that same sarcastic tilt it used to.

Annie let out a soft chuckle at the two, watching them bicker despite the professional setting. That laugh could charm millions. It did, starlight was America's sweetheart. Annie january had a joy around her that sparkled like the golden light she created. Victoria and Hughie exchanged a look, the kind of look that spoke volumes without a single word. They both held so much love for that girl.. Even if only one of them realised.

—---

The January family home was lovely, a little too.. Holy for some people. It definitely screamed southern baptist but it was lovely nonetheless. But hidden away near the back of the house sat Annie's room. A soft haven, the kind of space that felt lived in and loved, filled with touches of her personality in every corner. The walls, painted a delicate shade of cream,  dotted with posters of her favourite vought heroes.. Well maily the deep and  queen maeve. There were bands too though, the paper edges slightly curling from the warmth that filled the room. A pale, woven blanket was draped over her bed, the one her grandmother had made her, and a few stuffed animals sat near the headboard, her own much cooler version of the seven. The air was tinged with a faint scent of vanilla and something floral, a sweet and subtle fragrance that was uniquely Annie.

Victoria sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against Annie's bed, her eyes wandering around the room as if she hadn’t been here a thousand times before. Her dark hair fell over one shoulder, a stark contrast to the softness around her, but somehow, she fit into the space like she belonged. Her eyes, sharp and knowing, caught every detail, but her expression held that familiar veil of sarcasm that she wielded so effortlessly.

Annie had always been beautiful in a way that felt effortless, like the first rays of sunlight after a long winter night. Victoria Neuman couldn’t help but notice it every time they hung out. It was the kind of beauty that crept up on you, not blinding or in-your-face, but warm and soft, like the way Annie’s laugh lit up the room or the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

Annie had shifted around a little, leaning back against her silk pillows, one arm draped over her stomach, the other playing idly with the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. Her blonde hair spilled out over the pillow in messy waves, and her brown eyes were fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought. Vicky couldn't help but glance over at her, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary, taking in the small details that always seemed to catch her off guard—the way the light caught the faint freckles on Annie’s nose, the way her lashes curled up at the ends.

And then she noticed it. The slight shimmer on Annie’s eyelids, the faint pink gloss on her lips. Victoria’s eyes narrowed, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Wait a minute…” Victoria rested her head against the mattress propping herself up on one elbow as she turned to face Annie more fully. “Are you wearing makeup?”

“Y-yeah, why?” the question completely broke through whatever little haze she had drifted away into. Shooting up and practically squeaking back to her friend.  although it was unclear whether that was due to victoria acting so surprised due to her little revelation.. Or because the girl actually paid enough attention to notice the subtle change.

Vicky laughed subtly, her deep brown eyes scanning over the soft features set out so perfectly on her friend’s face. That cute little grin widened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I thought you hated makeup. ‘It’s sticky and gross,’” she mimicked Annie’s voice, exaggerating her words in a playful, sing-song tone.

Annie let out a breathy laugh, her eyes finally meeting Victoria’s. “Yeah, well… sometimes it’s nice to feel a little different, you know?”

Victoria’s heart did a little flip at the way Annie’s voice softened on the last word, the way her eyes seemed to shine just a bit more under the warm light. She wanted to say something, to joke a little more, but the words caught in her throat. “Oh totally, you just love different”

“Whatever-  i felt like it” the girl laughed back awkwardly, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. "I, um, made this for you," delicate hands grabbed the little CD from beside her, the tone of her voice returning back to its softer less defensive tune. She was looking down, not at Victoria, the CD case now held between them like a fragile offering.

Victoria arched an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "A mix CD? What is this, the early 2000s?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a warmth behind it, a softness that only came out when they were alone like this.

Annie's cheeks flushed pink, and she gave a small shrug. "I know it’s kind of old-school, but... the songs made me think of you." Her voice was quieter still, the words almost swallowed up by the room, but they hung in the air between them.

Victoria took the CD, her fingers brushing against the blonde’s for just a second longer than necessary. There was something electric in that brief contact, a spark that made Annie's heart skip a beat, but Victoria didn’t pull away. Instead, she turned the case over in her hands, examining it like it held some great secret.

"Well, now I’m curious," Victoria said, her smile widening, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes that wasn’t quite the usual teasing. "What songs made you think of me? Am I going to have to suffer through an hour of Taylor Swift?"

Annie let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she moved to sit down next to Victoria on the floor, close enough that their knees almost touched. "No Taylor… I promise. Though... there might be some Coldplay."

Victoria rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the affection in her gaze. "Of course there is."

Annie reached over to her small, portable CD player, the one with a few stickers on it that were beginning to peel at the edges. She clicked open the lid and placed the CD inside to replace her myspace mix. hands shaking just the tiniest bit. The player whirred softly as it started up, and then the room filled with the gentle strumming of an acoustic guitar, a sound so familiar and comforting it felt like a friend.

Annie leaned back against the side of her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest, her eyes drifting to the window. The late evening sun was filtering through the curtains, casting a golden light across the room, turning everything it touched into something magical. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, floating through the sunbeams, giving the room a dreamy, almost unreal quality. Outside, the world was quiet, the sounds of summer muted as if even nature itself knew this moment was too delicate to disturb.

Victoria listened in silence as the music played, her expression unreadable. But Annie noticed the way her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, the way her lips curved into a softer smile with each new song that played. It was as if the music was speaking for her, saying all the things she couldn’t find the words for.

Annie's heart was pounding, her thoughts a jumble of what-ifs and maybes. She had spent hours choosing these songs, each one carefully picked because it held a piece of how she felt, all the things she couldn’t say out loud. She wanted Victoria to understand, to hear the words she was too scared to speak, but she also feared what might happen if she did.

Victoria turned to look at her then, and for a moment, their eyes met. There was something searching in Victoria's gaze, something that made Annie feel like she was being seen in a way she hadn’t been before. It was a look that made her stomach flip, that made her want to reach out and close the distance between them, to see if the warmth she felt in her chest was real.

But instead, she just smiled, a small, shy thing that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Do you like it?" she asked, her voice barely more than a breath, as if she was afraid the answer might shatter her.

Victoria didn’t answer right away. She looked back at the CD player, at the music that was filling the room with something almost tangible, and then back at Annie. Her smile was softer now, the sarcasm in her eyes replaced with something gentler, something more vulnerable.

"These made you think of me?" she said finally, her voice was so unserious it was stupid. “Mazzy star, the cranberries and lana del rey… interesting”

“Hey.. there was a little bit of the smiths and coldplay too” she giggled. Annie felt a rush of warmth, a mixture of relief and something else that she couldn’t quite name. But before she could say anything, before she could let herself hope, Victoria reached out and touched her hand, just a light brush of her fingers, almost too quick to catch.

“Its cute..”

Annie’s breath hitched, her heart racing as she looked down at their hands. But then Victoria was pulling away, her expression shifting, the moment slipping through her fingers like sand.

[deva-arts]

What is the drink of choice for your OCs? (does not have to be alcoholic. Could just be iced coffee or whatever)

Ehehe this reminds me of the drink ask- I'll link it here.

Everyone has different tastes and thoughts behind their drinks of choice, so it was really fun to write this...

Sera:

Coffee! She has a large dependence on caffeine and will prefer coffee to energy drinks in most occasions. Nate can tell how fucked up her sleep schedule is going to be by counting the discarded filters. "I'll join you later Liebe, I just need to wrap this up." She said, before coming to bed at 3 AM to sleep for one hour and thirty minutes.

Nate:

Supra-Melatonin Tea. He's an insomniac who has trouble falling asleep- especially when hearing everyone's thoughts blare like white noise 24/7. When he's not trying to pass out he's drinking whatever green health sludge he's made using his juice extractor. "It's got 11 superfoods, including quinoa and cilantro!" We believe you, Nate.

Sonia:

Any kind of fruity cocktail. She's also a sucker for a good punch, even though she cannot get drunk anymore. She also likes to mix and match whatever is in stock for fun, then get the crew to test out her inventions. "Oh this? I call it Blood on the Beach. Try it." There's a 60% chance it's tasty and a 40% chance you're getting very drunk after.

Vincent:

Grapefruit Juice. He likes it- it's not too sweet, kind of sour, and it makes his stomach feel nice after. Refreshing. He's not going to complain if he has to drink something else, though. Other favorites are: tap water, unsweetened limeade, Seltzer, and hard vodka. "It's digestible if it's not poison." Okay Vincent.

Amon:

Asab (Sugarcane Juice) is his favorite... His mother used to find a way to make it on special occasions, but sugarcane isn't found often, less so now. He'll settle for a nicely sweetened lemonade with wedges in it, or just beer. He's a fan of summery drinks! "I gotta find a way to make that here..." It's a taste of home he misses.

Eric:

Thrush! Soda. He drinks way too much of it. Every time Sera calls him out on his habits, he makes his teeth melt. It's surprisingly graphic. Past that he also likes powdered drink mixes like Cool Aide, energy drinks, and novelty pop- the weirder the better. "Heh- I got a pickle Thrush. Tastes narsty but I can't stop drinking it." Holy hell Eric.

Strohl:

He drinks lots of water and little else. He's got to keep in shape... Sigh... As for what he likes to drink, he has a private selection of bourbon that he keeps in the couch console for particularly special occasions... Or rough days. He cherishes his time to himself, it's practically restorative for him. "There is little to say. I am a deceptively simple man." For such an affluent guy he's pretty dull.

Honorable mentions:

Titan still prefers blood, that's kind of his thing. Rip and tear, then drink from his victims like a freshly cracked coconut. Ew! He gets a free tragedy to watch with his drink too.

Monica liked drinking tea, she didn't really care what kind it was. It's just nice to drink something warm before going out for missions. If only she could actually enjoy it without Sera asking her to stay. Lord above, is she made of velcro? Hayes doesn't remember being like this as a child.

Karin likes drinking expensive bar specials that you'll be paying for. Yours tastes a little funny...

Oh no...

[smalls-words]

Chapter Eight: Palmetto

Summary: Natasha experiences jealousy, Palmetto reveals it's darkest secret, and your questioning your sexuality. What the fuck happened?

Pairings: Devil!Natasha x Fem!Detective!Reader, Natasha x Wanda, Reader x Steve (exes, co-parents), Yelena x Natasha (sisters).

Warnings: Mentions/attempt of suicide, knives, jealousy, sexual suggestion (is there ever going to be a chapter without it? probably not). Read at your own discretion.

A/N: WHO SHOT MALCOLM? :o find out in this chapter along with some other bombshells, cheeky.

Series Masterlist

*not my gif*

Lux was pumping with people as Natasha walked through it, a stunning satin blue dress reflecting light to show off the entire dark to light range of the shade. She cheered on many drinks with her patrons, even taunting some of them with a playful smack and grab of the ass or a fleeting touch on their back.

But her favourite demon came up to the bar dressed in a stunning gold dress, held against her body to show it off. Messy hair made Natasha grin, knowing that a few hands had given the demon what she wanted.

“Wanda! You haven't wished me a happy birthday.” Natasha grinned as Wanda stood in front of her, drink in hand.

“The Devil doesn't have a birthday.” 

“Well, I do now. I burned my wings, I feel reborn - it's my re-birthday party.” She chuckled.

“Reborn? As who?” The brunette snickered.

“Whoever the hell I want to be. It's exciting, isn't it?” She took a deep breath in as she examined her party.

Your ruby red lips catching her eyes instantly. 

“Happy birthday to me.” Natasha giggled to herself, letting Wanda lean into her ear. 

“How sweet. She brought a date.” She smirked before leaving, watching Natasha’s eyes fly to see Steve before your laughter made her come back. 

“You said ‘drinks with a few friends’, you liar.” You teased. 

Natasha admired the black suit against your body - of course, if she really desired, she could go back up and change into a matching one. She also wondered what hers would look like on you, giving her a hot flash over her body before she smirked.

“Well, you know, things got out of hand. Just the way I like it.” 

“We brought you a birthday gift.” Steve spoke suddenly as you poured some shots, holding a jar of bright green liquid. 

“Is that the royal ‘we’?” She asked.

“Whiskey with a pickle juice chaser. It's our station's birthday tradition.” You took the jar of pickle juice chaser and poured shots for all of you.

Her nose scrunched in disgust. “Lovely! How can I refuse? Can I refuse?” 

Steve snickered at her antics. “Of course you can. And we'll always think less of you.” 

You handed Natasha her shot glasses, whiskey in the left and pickle juice in the right before you lifted yours. “Here's to another trip around the sun.” 

“Cheers.” She clinked her glasses with yours, watching you down the liquor and chaser with skill. 

You smirked at her surprise expression, looking between the whiskey and pickle juice. “It's not bad, is it?” You asked. 

“Briny! Let's find Wanda. She needs to try this bizarre concoction. She loves a salty aftertaste.” Natasha smirked at you, watching you shake your head in both laughter and disgust at her innuendo and dismay. 

“I’m sorry, we're just stopping by. We have a department thing to go to.” 

“Some of us work for a living.” Steve remarked.

“Well, that's your bad luck, isn't it? Come on, the party's barely started.” Natasha whined at you, watching you come towards her in a hug. 

She leaned down slightly to hold you in the embrace whilst you went on your tippy toes. “Happy birthday, Natasha.” You murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek as you stepped back.

“Thank you, malyshka.” She replied.

Steve placed his hand on your back and led you out of the club, yet you were comforted by Natasha’s gaze on you until you were outside. You sank into the passenger seat of the car as Steve drove to the Paddock Lounge, almost the entire precinct inside. 

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Steve asked. 

“We can't be the only ones missing Malcolm's welcome back party. If we want to find a dirty cop, we have to look like team players.” You replied.

“Y/N Valeria!” A voice came from the crowd.

“Here we go.” You grumbled to yourself, turning around. 

You easily recognised the man in the wheelchair as Malcolm Graham, his thick moustache clashing with his thin beard, the off-set parting of his dark auburn hair matching the colour of his facial hair. “You and I need to talk.” He remarked.

The bar went quiet. 

“Sure, Malcolm.” 

He pointed at Steve. “You back with this guy? Hmm? How-how, how long was I out? What, you get the sense knocked out of you, Valeria?” 

“We're just, we're just, uh…” 

Malcolm laughed at Steve’s attempt to ease the tension. “Just relax, guys. I'm just… just giving you a hard time.”

The rest of the bar went back to their business, some even laughing at his first joke. 

“You finally got your sense of humour back, huh?” Steve snickered. 

“Yeah, he's healing fast. Doc said he should be able to get rid of this chair in a couple days.” Paolucci patted Malcolm on the back.

You watched Malcolm groan as he stood from his wheelchair, guessing it was an aid rather than a necessity. “You tired of pushing me around, Paolucci?” 

The partner chuckled. “Look at that, huh? The partner who will not die. Guess Heaven didn't want him and Hell couldn't keep him.” 

The four of you laughed at Paolucci’s joke, Malcolm’s eyes meeting your own. “You got no idea.” 

At his wink, you tilted your head slightly. Could he know about…?

Nah…

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“So I, I may have been... out of line last time I was here. But I did send flowers. And chocolates. And now myself, so, save the best gift till last.” Natasha chuckled nervously as she sat across from Kate. 

The therapist wore a simple long sleeve with her trench coat draped over the chair behind her desk, her legs crossed in their jeans. She simply watched Natasha as her nerves played up, hands fidgeting and humour anxious. 

“Not enough? No? You can invite a friend.” 

“Why did you think I'd be mad? Was it because of this?” Kate stood, walking over to the wall to take a painting off, revealing the patchwork of the hole Natasha punched. 

“I've found women, generally, don't like a person punching holes in things, yes.” The redhead smiled sheepishly.

“Natasha, our last session was a breakthrough.” The doctor sat back down in her chair. 

“It was?” 

She nodded. “You're finally getting in touch with your emotions. Letting your barriers down.” 

Natasha leaned forward. “You see, that's part of the problem. I'd like them back up, thank you.”

“Why?” 

“Well, because these emotions are… really inconvenient, that's why.” 

“What's bothering you right now?” 

“Well… As of late, I'm experiencing a very odd feeling. It's-it's like a... it's like a fat man sitting on my chest. But not in a fun way.” She stammered along, smirking at the end.

“And when is that happening?” 

“Well, um…” 

“When you're with the detective?” Kate asked.

“Yes. Well, actually, lately, when she's been with Steve. Her ex. Well, sort of. Uh... I don't know what she sees in that oaf.” Natasha clarified.

Kate chuckled. “Natasha… you're jealous.” 

Natasha scoffed. “The Devil doesn't get jealous. I'm the one who inspires passion in others. I mean… you know that.” 

“Mm, don't I ever.” 

“Thank you. That's the appropriate response.” The devil thought for a moment, a light bulb going off. “Hold on, maybe it's not me. Maybe it's her.” Another light bulb. “You could fix the detective!”

“And how would I do that?” Kate sighed in defeat, knowing she couldn’t take Natasha off of this pathway even if she tried.

“Well, heal her douche fixation, obviously. Then she stays away from her ex, and then I get my partner back.” She smiled proudly. 

The therapist sighed. “Natasha. That's not how therapy works. We deal with your issues. Not someone else's.” 

Natasha scoffed, grumpy until she got a text from you.

Malyshka

-come here-

-dropped pin-

“Well, see ya next time, Katie.” Natasha blew her a kiss before walking out of the door.

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Natasha walked through the building to find the dead body surrounded by police. “Oh, dear! Someone's session went poorly.” 

“Mm. Thanks for gracing us with your presence.” 

Natasha looked over your tired form, a stripey black and white t-shirt covered by a beige trench coat, black jeans held up by your belt consisting of your gun and badge. 

She smirked. “Yes, I had a previous engagement. Therapy twice in one day - so LA of me.” 

“Dr. Bernie Shaw. Killed last night. No forced entry. Killer most likely knew the vic. The weapon was improvised. Seems like a crime of passion.” You reported to her, having already analysed the crime scene.

“Right. Yeah. Have you ever seen a therapist?”

You looked at Natasha incredulously at her random and slightly intruding question. 

“You know, for your pent-up anger and your trust issues. And your attraction to very dull men.” She clarified.

“Let's just focus on the case, shall we?” You offered her a department-issued Surface tablet, a website already up.

“Well, I will, once it's interesting.” Natasha took it, looking at it with one glance before her eyes lit up and she looked back. “Oh! It is interesting. ‘The Cheater Therapist’?”

“Yeah, he encouraged couples to cheat to save their marriages. You can imagine how many people want to kill him.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“I can't, actually. Sounds like a great idea.” 

“You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.” 

“It can't hurt to try.” 

“Pretty sure it can.” You stepped past the redhead, leading her to follow you out to a seating room where a man and a woman.

“That's the wife Alexandra. She was out of town and just got back to find her husband dead.” You murmured.

“Poor woman. Excuse me!” She yelled out, giving you the tablet. 

“Your husband was the Cheater Therapist.” She pointed at the sniffling woman.

The man beside her stepped in front of her. “Hey, I'm not sure who you are, but this is not the time for judgement.” 

Natasha scoffed with a smirk. “What? No judgement here, Tissue Lad. I think her husband's work was bang on!” 

“I'm Detective Valeria. This is my associate, Ms. Romanoff.” You shook the man’s hand, but Natasha didn’t.

“Jonathan Medina. Colleague of Dr. Shaw's.” He introduced himself.

Natasha knelt before the crying woman. “Desire shouldn't be contained, it's unnatural. Your husband recognised that.” 

“Bernie, h-he just wanted to help people. He dedicated his life to others. Who would do this?” She asked her, whimpering and sniffling. 

“We'll find out, Mrs. Shaw.” You promised, gently tugging on Natasha’s shoulder to make her follow you.

“Yes?” The redhead grinned as she looked down at you. 

“Every one of her husband's patients is a suspect.” You sighed in annoyance, but strangely, it wasn’t at her.

“Oh! Does that mean we get to dive into patient files? Read the deepest, darkest secrets of L.A.'s most unfaithful?” She rubbed her hands together sadistically.

“No.” You warned her, smacking her hands apart. “We can't look at them without a psychologist to protect patient confidentiality.” 

“Perfect! I have just the psychologist!”

You frowned. 

“Dr. Kate Bishop, from our first investigation together? Ringing any bells up there?” She playfully tapped your temple. 

“The one that wanted to jump your bones? No. Not happening.” You shook your head. 

“No, I really think she'd bring some impressive insight into the issues that you're dealing with. Uh, in the case, obviously.” She quickly added.

“I really don't. Plus, it's out of our hands. Court-appointed. A judge needs to sign off.” You explained, walking towards the exit.

She chased after you. “Do you, uh… do you know who will appoint the psychologist?” 

“I think her name is Judge Tourvel. She’s our precinct’s normal judge for cases like this. Why?” 

You really shouldn’t have told her that.

The next day, you scoffed at the note on your case file before driving to the psychologist office, seeing Natasha and Kate conversing over papers. You knocked on the door, still wanting to be polite to the doctor, but you glared at Natasha.

“Natasha…” You growled.

“Ah! Speak of the Me.” She smiled gleefully, turning to you. 

“Out here. Now.” You pointed to the lobby, closing the door behind her.

You paced a bit as she stood there patiently in a suit of black on black, her hands in her pockets before you faced her. “What did you do?” 

“Not what, but who, if you must know. But I try not to kiss and tell.” She grinned. 

“I told you I didn't want to go with Dr. Bishop. We need someone impartial, which means not trying to get in your pants. What...?” You trailed off, her eyes just not focused on you which became evident when she walked around you. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

“Not really. Look. A new doctor's moved in. Dr. Belova. How peculiar.” She murmured. 

“What do you mean?” You mumbled, annoyed that she was taking more interest in a name than a case.

“Well, Belova stems from the Russian word Bely, meaning white. It’s just… Never mind.” She turned around to face you.

“Now look, I assure you, Dr. Bishop is excellent. She trained at Stanford, she lectures at USC, she's got stacks of awards…” 

“Since when are you her fangirl?” You asked curiously.

“Since I became a client.” She replied.

“You? You're really in therapy?”

“Why is that so surprising?”

“Natasha, don’t take this the wrong way, but… well, you could if you wanted to - but you're the least reflective person I know.” You chuckled.

“I have layers.” She grumbled, a tone of discontent with your light insult. “I'm like an onion. Or an ogre, but if I was to be an ogre, I’d be irresistible. Dr. Kate said we recently made a breakthrough, in fact.”

“Why do I think that's code for sex? And do you still think you're the Devil?” 

“In that particular context, no. And I am the Devil.” 

“Then excuse me if I doubt her skills.” You remarked.

“Look, she's helped me, all right? And I think she can be of help here.” 

“Excuse me.” Kate came from around the corner. “I found something.” 

“Well, hello.” Natasha grinned. 

“What is it?” You asked, ignoring the redhead. 

“A patient named Richard Kester. His wife convinced him to try Dr. Shaw's therapy.” The doctor explained.

“Hmm, let me guess - didn't end well?” 

She nodded. “She had an affair. They got divorced. And then Richard sent Dr. Shaw a death threat. It's been more than a year, but that kind of anger can bubble up when you least expect it.” 

“Add him to the list of angry patients.” You told her. 

“That's just it. Richard's the only one so far. Dr. Shaw's patients seem remarkably happy with him.” She shrugged.

“Oh, do they now? See, cheater therapy works. Maybe you should've tried it with Detective Douche. Or was that what broke you apart?” Natasha feigned realisation.

You turned to face her, ever so slowly as you gave her a deadpan expression. “What is wrong with you lately?”

You then faced Kate. “Would you mind sitting in the back of the car whilst we go investigate?”

“Of course not. I’ll just lock my office and get my phone.” She walked back into the office.

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“So I don't understand all this jealousy talk. I mean, why covet something someone else has? Why not just take it?” Natasha asked, confused as she sat in the passenger seat whilst you drove.

“'Cause it's never that easy.” You chuckled. 

“Well, it is for me. Usually.” She looked at you, watching you roll your eyes again before she fiddled with the rings on her fingers. 

“I, uh… I may have overstepped earlier in regards to Detective Douche.”  

“Yeah. You definitely may have.” You snickered. 

“So why did you two separate anyway?” Natasha asked. 

You gave her a quick glance before turning your eyes back to the road. “Well, there were many aspects. He did sleep with another woman, Sharon, but the job was also more important to him than me and Peggy.” 

You sighed. “But lately something's changed. He... he makes time for me, he makes time for us. He's really putting in an effort. I am gay though…”

Natasha was unsure of why you sounded a bit hesitant. “Yes, if ever anyone deserved a participation trophy, it's Steve.”

You chuckled before your phone rang. “Valeria.”

“Uh, hello, Detective. It's about Richard. I wanted to warn you. He may be unstable. Possibly dangerous.” Kate spoke over the phone.

“I'll handle it, but thanks.”

“I don't mean to you. I mean to himself.”

A siren whooped to your side and you saw people filming above. You looked up and your mouth fell open at the sight of Richard standing at the edge of his apartment complex’s roof. “Yeah, you may be right. Natasha?” 

You turned to face her. But she wasn’t there. 

“Oh, my God. There's another one!” A bystander exclaimed, and you mentally wanted to hit yourself.

*Please, please, please… Fuck’s sake.* You thought to yourself as you saw Natasha standing up there. 

“Hey, Detective! You need your roots done!” Natasha grinned at you from the roof.

“I am going to kill you, Natasha Romanoff.” You muttered under your breath.

Natasha turned to Richard as he stared at the ground below. “I've made up my mind. You can't stop me.” His bald egg-head with a face and glasses spoke, not looking at Natasha.

“What? Oh, no. I'm not here to stop you. If you want to jump, go for it.” She chuckled, waving at you.

Richard was confused. “Is this some kind of reverse psychology?”   

“No, quite serious. Go for it.” She retorted.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.” 

“I do have one question before you pop off.” She interrupted just as his feet shuffled near the edge, her hand coming in front of the side of his chest to stop him. 

“You see, I'm trying to understand jealousy. It's a new concept to me. And you, dear Ricky, are the perfect person to explain it.” 

“What are you talking about...?” He trailed off as his feet slipped, Natasha’s hand catching his shirt easily. 

“Manners, Ricky. Manners! We're not done talking yet!” She held him out, glancing over his shoulder to see your eyes steeled in a shocked yet slightly angered expression.

“Okay, I'll talk!! Pull me back up, please!” Richard begged.

“Are you sure? 'Cause I could just…” She jolted her hold on him, the crowd below screaming slightly. “Natasha!” You yelled, swearing under your breath. 

“Pull me back up! Pull me up, please! Oh, God.” Richard closed his eyes, holding onto Natasha’s hand and wrist. 

“I'd save your breath if I were you. When it comes to this sort of thing, he's quite judgy.” She grumbled, looking at the sky annoyedly whilst she pulled him to her side. 

“Right, back to the matter in hand. Now, you were so jealous that you murdered Dr. Shaw. Can you help me understand why?” 

“How could you say that? I was about to jump, because he's dead-”

“Don't fib, Rickster. I know about your death threats.” She wagged her finger in his eyes. 

He shook his head. “I was in a bad place. Kara had just dumped me. I made my threats. Then I went to his office-”

“And killed him.” 

“And he talked me down.” Richard corrected her. “And afterwards, he kept seeing me, even though he knew I couldn't afford to pay him. I mean, he'd got me through my divorce, bankruptcy, the death of my parrot.” 

“Oh. I've just realised you're not jealous, are you? You're just sad. Pathetic, really.” Natasha sighed, having now wasted her time. “Well, if you can't tell me what I need to know, what good are you?” 

“Aren't you supposed to tell me that I have a lot to live for?” Richard scoffed. 

“Well, I wish I could, Ricky, but your life sounds incredibly bleak. Ironically, it seems there's nowhere to go but up.” She shrugged. 

“You know what? You're right.” 

“Huh?” 

“Maybe the worst is behind me. Hmm… I think I'm ready to go in now.” Richard decided.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Well, I wasn't asking, but, uh, all right, go on, quick as you can. Come on, chop, chop.”

As Richard stepped off, Natasha gave the firemen and the crowd a thumbs up,from which she earned some cheering and clapping. 

As Natasha stepped out of the building’s foyer, you stood there, shaking your head. “I can't believe you, Natasha.” 

“What? You should be thanking me.” She grinned.

“You put yourself in danger! That’s not how we do things.” You hissed at her, but Natasha simply grinned.

“What?”

“You were worried about me.” She smirked, leaning in slightly.

“I’m alright, malyshka. Don’t you worry about me.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked past her, but you gently tapped her hand for her to follow you. Richard was sitting in the back of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. 

“All right, Richard, we confirmed your alibi with your neighbour. You're free to go.” You smiled gently.

“How did this happen? Poor Sandy.” He asked. 

“Who's Sandy?” 

“Dr. Shaw's wife, Alexandra. Her friends all call her Sandy.” 

“Okay, and you're friends with your therapist's wife?” You mentally took note of it.

“Yes, how open was his relationship therapy, hmm?” Natasha grinned. 

Richard shook his head. “No, it's nothing like that. That's just how the Shaws are. They go above and beyond. I just ran into her two days ago. Sandy was planning a surprise for Dr. Shaw and everything.” 

“You ran into her two days ago... are you sure about that?” You frowned, to which he nodded.

“Alexandra told us she was in Phoenix. We checked her alibi. She had plane tickets to prove it. What was the surprise?” You asked. 

“I don't know. She just asked me not to tell Dr. Shaw she was in town.” He shrugged.

“Uh-huh.” Natasha nodded, looking at you.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” You asked her, to which she shrugged and followed behind you to your car. 

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Lux was almost empty, save a few customers, as Kate walked down the stairs and towards the bar, eyeing the Romani bartender serving drinks to a biker.

“We're closed.” She grumbled, pouring bourbon in a glass. 

“You must be Wanda.” Kate smiled, watching the demon’s head rise to meet her eyes. “You're just as Natasha described.” 

Wanda sauntered over to the end of the bar, smirking as she eyed the doctor’s body whilst pouring her own drink. “So, you're the doctor.” 

“Oh, call me Kate. Pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand for Wanda to shake, but she just grabbed the glass and sipped her bourbon.

The demon wore a very low cut top that revealed the top of her lace black bra, whilst small spikes poked out onto her shoulders and in two necklaces, jeans hidden below the bar counter.

“I've seen that look in women before. Won't end well.” Wanda commented after finishing her sip. 

“What won't?” Kate frowned, confused. 

“Sleeping with my boss.” The demon clarified. “You'll end up like all the others. Trash left by the side of the road.”

“Interesting.” Kate smiled. 

“What?” 

“Well, I find people who are rude usually feel powerless in their own lives. Terrified of not being in control. But that's not you, I'm sure.” Kate analysed her. 

Wanda simply grinned, tapping her nails on the counter in quick succession. “I like you.”

As Kate was joined by you and Natasha, Wanda moved off to the side, serving the customers once more.  

“Doctor? What a surprise.” Natasha smiled. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked politely. 

Her brows frowned cutely. “I thought you asked me to meet you here.” 

“That-that was me. I felt like it would be good to get your input on ‘the case’.” Natasha looked from the doctor to you quickly, whilst you didn’t notice the wiggling eyebrows and slight inflection in her voice. 

“That's a good idea, actually, especially since our last suspect almost ended up sidewalk art. Turns out Mrs. Shaw flew to Phoenix but rented a car and drove back a couple days early.” You explained to Kate.

“So, dear, sweet Sandy was here just in time for the murder.” Natasha grinned as she collected a drink of her own.

“Wait, Alexandra Shaw goes by ‘Sandy’?” Kate asked, to which you nodded. “The doctor had a female patient who was stalked by someone with the initials S.S.” 

“He used initials in his notes? Mine never did.” You puzzled. 

“I found it odd as well. Why conceal someone's identity in private notes? But I thought it wasn't related, so I just ignored it.” Kate shrugged.

“Unless S.S. stands for Sandy Shaw. If she was stalking one of her husband's female patients…”

“Then maybe Dr. Shaw was engaged in his own open-relationship therapy.” 

“And Sandy found out. So maybe she wasn't okay with it as she claimed.” You finished off your 1-2-1-2 with Kate before your phone rang.

“Excuse me. Valeria. Yeah, this is 831. Oh, yeah, tell him I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay, thank you. That was dispatch. Steve's phone died, and he wants me to meet him at my place. Apparently it's urgent.”

As you were about to take off, however, Natasha’s eyes rolled. “Oh, how convenient. What's next, he spills something on his shirt and he has to take it off? Oh, no, the trousers, too. Whatever will he do about Detective Y/N by his side?”

You looked at her incredulously. “What?” 

“What, so that's it? You just go running as soon as Steve calls? What about the case?”

You sighed. “This could relate to another case I'm working on, Natasha. There's units looking for Sandy now. And once they find her, they'll call me.” 

You gave Kate a simple ‘bye’ with a respectful nod before leaving her and Natasha alone. 

“Unbelievable. You see what I'm dealing with now, don't you?” Natasha scoffed, downing the rest of her bourbon without a flinch in her face. 

“I think I do, actually. It's worse than I realised.” Kate nodded, faking seriousness.

“Thank you.” The devil shook her head. 

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You entered your house quickly, realising you hadn’t drank or eaten anything that day and headed straight to the kitchen. 

Mindless of the threat in your house.

“Hey, Steve. What did you find out?” You asked as you passed a male figure. 

“Surprise.”

You spun to see Malcolm in his leather jacket and jeans with a zip-up hoodie and a green tee. You flicked your jacket back and gripped your holster tightly, your breath shuddering at the sight of the man. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! I just wanted to talk.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“You act all chummy in public, then you break into my home, trick me into meeting you in private? Excuse me if I'm not trusting.” You hissed.

“Hey, I'm not armed. All right?” He stood and flicked his jacket up, showing no belt, badge or gun. 

“All right. Then talk.” 

“I had to meet with you where no one else could hear.” He explained shortly. 

“Hear what, my screams?” You scoffed, making him chuckle.

“Valeria, we're on the same side. And I know you're still looking into Palmetto. Well, guess what? So am I.” 

“I put that to bed a long time ago.”

“That the best you got? God, you're a decent cop, but you are a terrible liar. Come on! Palmetto stinks. I should know. I was there.” He snickered.

“Mm-hmm. Go ahead, say it. I look dirty.” He opened his arms, exposing himself. 

You hesitated before lifting your finger to point at him, angry. “I saw you meet with Nikolas Aoudi. You were laughing. I saw you hand him cash.” 

“I've used him as a CI before. I was buying information. Then we both got sh*t. And I think it was a cop who sh*t me. But you knew that already, didn't you?” He grinned, folding his arms behind his back like a sneaky little shit.

You took a moment to breathe, not wanting your emotions to escalate. “Why do you think it was a cop?” 

“That's what I was paying Aoudi for. Intel on someone crooked at our station. But I think he, or she, got to me first.” 

“That's a great story. I love the ending. It-it really ties up all the loose ends.” You sighed sarcastically.

“Not really. I can't explain how the crooked cop knew I was there. How'd you find me?” He asked.

“I followed the stench.” 

He chuckled annoyedly. “You followed the... You know what? Screw this. I only called you to try and help.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Listen, Valeria, they pulled the plug on me. I was dead.” 

He hit a nerve and the raging woman inside you retreated to lick her guilt-filled wounds. “I-I know.” 

“Made me appreciate the time I've got here. So, personally, I don't think I'm gonna dig any deeper on this one. And I wouldn't if I were you either.” 

“Not sure if that's a warning or a threat.” Your eyebrow raised.

“I'm not the enemy, Y/N. But whoever we were investigating, they're still out there. And they clearly don't have a problem shooting cops.” 

As he retreated out of your house, your phone rang again. “Valeria.” 

“We found Mrs. Shaw in a parking structure. We’re holding her here until you get here, so be quick.” An officer reported before hanging up, to which you called another as you went out to your car.

“Hey, Natasha - meet me outside Lux with Doctor Bishop in three.”

When you arrived, the two were standing outside by the curb. They climbed in, with Kate sitting in the back behind the caged divider whilst Natasha sat in the passenger seat. 

“Unis found Sandy Shaw in her car in a parking structure.” You reported to the Russian woman. 

“Oh, well, I hope our case didn't ruin your kissy-time with Steve.” She rolled her eyes.

“What is with your recent obsession with my love life?” You looked at her briefly.

“Obsession? That's awfully defensive. Probably indicates deeper issues, wouldn't you say?” She instantly turned to face Kate in the back seat.

“I agree. Why are you so defensive, Natasha?” 

Your eyes widened, happy to finally have somebody supporting you against this… unfortunately powerful woman. “Good question.” 

Natasha looked betrayed. “Et tu, Doctor?” 

“Natasha, you asked me to analyse the situation.” Kate replied.

“No, I asked you to help figure out what's wrong with her.” She pointed at you, which wasn’t the best time to admit that because you could give her a stare, given that you were at a red light.

“Did you now?” You raised an eyebrow, which… kind of scared her.

“Nothing's wrong with her. She's a woman balancing a lot on her plate, and, as far as I can tell, doing a fantastic job.” Kate elaborated, making your heart sing.

“Why, thank you. You're right, Natasha, she's amazing.” You teased.

“No, she's verbal Ebola. Where's the button to put the glass up?” Natasha looked around your console, which only controlled GPS, Bluetooth, your sirens, speaker and air-con. 

“This isn't a limo, Natasha. And, Dr. Kate, you should really join us more often.” You chuckled.

“Getting double-teamed is usually much more fun than this.” Natasha grumbled.

That was a mental picture your hindbrain adored and forebrain despised. “Mm. Gross.” ⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

“So you lied to us. You were in town the day your husband died.” You stood opposite Alexandra - Sandy - as the uniformed officers surrounded the area.

“Yes. But it's not what you think.” She started to explain.

“Okay, then help me understand.” 

“Sandy, I'm on your side.” Natasha lightly pushed you out of the way, getting her mojo to work on the woman whilst she took her hand.

“Not everything stems from jealousy, no matter what these women tell you. You came here driven by some kind of desire, didn't you? Come on. You can tell me. What was it?” 

“It's disgusting.” Sandy sighed.

“Ooh, you naughty girl. Come on, now you have to tell me.” She teased.

“It's... in my car.” She unlocked the boot of it, to which you slowly waited for it to open.

“What is, Sandy?” Natasha grinned.

“Poop. Bags and bags of it.” Sandy admitted.

“Oh, my God.” You resisted the urge to gag, covering your nose with your hand which honestly didn’t do much.

All six foot four of Natasha immediately stepped back, shaking Sandy’s hand out of her own. “I'm not sure whether to be horrified or impressed.” 

“My friend owns a horse.” Sandy added. 

“That's… oddly comforting to know. What were you gonna do with it?” You asked.

“I was going to throw it at Tiffany.” 

“That's the patient you were accused of stalking.” Kate interjected.

Sandy nodded. “Yeah. She's in a group therapy session right now for my husband's clients.” 

“Group cheater therapy. Oh, the imagination runs wild.” Natasha chuckled.

You stepped forward, further into Sandy’s field of view. “So Tiffany was sleeping with your husband. How'd you find out?” 

“My husband's colleague, Dr. Medina, called me. He wanted to see if Bernie wanted to grab a last-minute drink, but Bernie was supposed to already be with Dr. Medina. That's when I knew my husband lied to me.” 

“But he was the cheater therapist. I don't quite see the problem here. I mean, you said yourself-”

Sandy interjected Natasha. “The problem is he fell in love with her. I lied to him about my trip, then I drove back from Phoenix to see what he was doing. I was…” 

Natasha groaned. “Oh, don't say it.” 

“Jealous.” 

The devil growled aloud. “Yes, yes, we all get it! Jealousy makes the world go cuckoo bananas!”

“I loved him. I didn't kill him. I just wanted him back.” Sandy sniffled, tearing up.

Further down in the car park, you spotted Steve’s car pulling up, anger painted clear as day across his face.

“Oh, great. The douche-mobile.” Natasha scoffed, folding her arms across her suit.

“Give me a second.” You asked her quietly, your tone immediately alerting her.

You swung underneath the metal pole and jumped down the metre to the road, walking to Steve. “Hey, I got your text. You okay? Did Malcolm hurt you?” He asked.

“No. I told you, it's-it's fine. Everything's fine.” You replied.

Steve exhaled frustratedly. “I'm gonna punch that son of a bitch right back into a coma.” 

“Oh, come on. No. No.” You pointed at him, making sure he understood your view. “Anything back on the 999 key?” 

“I'm sorry, Y/N. They couldn't get any prints off of it.” He replied.

“Thanks anyway.” You smiled softly.

Once you returned to the car, the uniformed officers now taking her to the station for questioning, you sighed as you stood next to Kate. “And once again, Natasha disappears.” 

“I think the case may have hit a little too close to home.” Kate pursed her lips slightly.

“Maybe things got a little too boring for Ms. Short Attention Span.” You chuckled, looking at Sandy as she sat in the car.

“I don't know. She's grown quite a bit since working with you.” Kate admitted. 

“I'm not sure I'm the reason. I think you've really helped her. I underestimated you before. I'm sorry.” You apologised. 

“Not needed. But thank you.” 

You chuckled softly to yourself as a thought came to your mind. “And I thought... I thought you were sleeping with her.” 

“Oh, I am.” The noirette admitted. 

“Oh. Oh. Is, um... is that...?” 

“Ethical? No. No, it is not.” Kate sighed. “But there's something about her. I can't stop myself. But I think it's time I did. I mean, even I'm starting to feel…” 

You shook your head at her, asking her silently to discontinue that line of conversation. 

“So do you think she did it?” She changed it. 

“Sandy claims she was sitting outside Tiffany's house, waiting for Dr. Shaw to show up. Problem is, no one can corroborate her alibi. But, no, I don't think it was her.” You shook your head. 

You took a few steps forward as you thought, racking your brain for a clue of some sort. “So there's no one in Dr. Shaw's files that looked like a potential suspect?” 

“Not that I can tell, but maybe I missed something.” Kate shrugged.

“Like what?” You pondered aloud.

“The cheater therapist turned out to be terrible at cheating. Why didn't he tell Dr. Medina he was using him as a cover story?” 

“Maybe he did. Maybe he confided in Dr. Medina.” 

“But Mrs. Shaw said that Dr. Medina had no idea about the affair.” 

“Yeah, so he conveniently told her everything she needed to know to figure it out.” A light bulb went off in your head. “We need to talk to Dr. Medina.” 

Natasha was tired of these stupid humans in this stupid grief group therapy session led by Dr. Medina for the death of Dr. Shaw. After twenty minutes of discussion, and even opening it up for debate, she had enough.

“When you say you, uh, b*rned your wings, was that a metaphor...?” 

“Not focusing on the right details here, Alan!” She sighed, annoyed.

Dr. Medina stood. “All right, this is supposed to be a grief therapy session for the patients of Dr. Shaw. And everyone here has a terrible loss to deal with.”

“What, and I don't? I've lost both my therapist and my partner.” She scoffed.

“I'm s... Th-They died?” He stammered. 

“No. No, you blubbering idiot, they turned on me. Some would argue that's worse- have you not been listening at all?” 

“Alright, you need to leave.”   

“No, I'm close to something. I can feel it.” She replied, nibbling lightly on her thumb knuckle.

“This is not about you!” Dr. Medina blurted out.

Her eyes lit up. “You're right. Yes… I should use one of you as a case study. Thank you for volunteering. So what... what makes you jealous? Hmm? What do you desire that you can't have?”

She willed her mojo onto him, staring him in the eyes. “I… I want Sandy.” He replied.

She grinned slightly. “I remember you now. Tissue Lad! Wanted some open relationship therapy of your own, is that it?” 

“That's not what it is like.” He groaned. 

“But she didn't want you, did she? Sandy loved her husband, so you killed him, didn't you?” 

“Shut up!” He yelled. 

She gasped playfully, looking at him like she won the jackpot. “Solved it, haven't I?!”

Dr. Medina spun around to the buffet table and grabbed a sharp knife, walking towards Natasha and holding it to her throat until they stopped at a wall, the other patients scrambling out of the way. 

“So that's a yes.” She muttered to herself. “Do you realise what you've done?” 

“I had to kill him, all right? He lied to her. He cheated on her. And I tried to tip her off, but no matter what he did, she still loved him.” 

“No, no, not that. This. Right here. You've just given me the perfect example of unbridled jealousy.” 

“I'm not jealous. I'm not!” He pleaded, almost begging her to tell him so.

“The woman that you loved was with someone else, someone you thought wasn't worthy of her. But no matter what you did…” She paused, the wires connecting as her winning grin fell sympathetically. 

“She never saw you the way you wanted her to.” 

“That's... That's pretty accurate.”

“Yeah. You've just made me realise something. That my situation and yours are…” And the wires uncrossed again. “Absolutely nothing alike. I was right! Not jealous!” 

“Drop your weapon!” You tackled Medina and threw him to the ground, rolling over him and removing the knife from his grip before he bit your hand, making you pull it back before whacking him point-blank with your elbow. 

You got on top, kneeling on his side whilst you pushed his head away from his arm. “Did you seriously just bite me?” 

Natasha grinned from where she stood. “He's the killer.” 

“Yeah, you think?” You smirked. 

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The night had risen from the sun’s sleep and you walked out of the small banquet room onto the street, smiling gently at Natasha as she leaned against her Corvette with a cigarette in hand.

You watched her carefully. “So you were right about Kate. She helped me figure out the motive. And then I realised Jonathan Medina and Dr. Shaw's offices shared the same security system. So I checked and... You're not listening to me, are you?”

She looked at you apologetically. “Afraid not, Y/N.” 

You came a bit closer to her, holding your arms in front of you with your hand clasped around the other wrist. “You didn't see any similarity between yourself and Jonathan?” 

“So you heard some of that, did you?” She smiled softly. 

“Tail end.” You nodded. 

She sighed, which worried you slightly when it was coupled with the unreadable expression on her face. “I don't know. Did you?” 

You shook your head, lying through your teeth for her comfort. “Mm-mm. No. Completely different.” 

“That's what I thought.” She chuckled lightly, inviting you to stand next to her. “I promise, you won’t scratch her. And even if you do, I can just get it fixed.”

You hesitantly leaned on her car, keeping away from her cigarette smoke. 

“So… how's your secret case with Steve going?” She asked.

“Secretly terrible. Do you remember Malcolm?” 

“Coma boy?” 

You chuckled at her nickname for him, nodding. “He woke up. He claims he's innocent. Something he said bothers me. Whoever shot him knew about Palmetto, but he says that no one should have known he was there.” 

“Well, you found him there.”

“Yeah, I... He pointed that out, too. So, whoever followed him could have done what I did.”

“So how did you track him?” She took a puff. 

“Partners on the force share GPS locators in their gear so that they can find each other in emergencies.” 

“You hacked his partner's locator. I knew you were clever.” She smirked, noticing your realisation expression. 

“Which means… Malcolm's partner knew he was there, too. Tony Paolucci knew.”

Natasha held up her keys before the doors of the car unlocked, popping out slightly. “Get in, gorgeous.”

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

You stepped out of Natasha’s car just outside of the Paddock Lounge, looking across the street whilst Natasha knocked on the door. 

“That's Paolucci's car, just like his GPS said.” 

“But the bar's closed.” Natasha grumbled. 

“Maybe he decided to keep the party going.” You stepped up close to the window to look inside, hearing the door creak beside you. 

“You have to stop doing that.” You chastised her. 

“It was unlocked.” She rolled her eyes, watching your hand shoot out to stop her from walking in.

“Me first.” You held up your torch and gun, stepping in front of her to go inside.

The whole bar was surrounded in darkness. Your torch scanned over the place as you called for Paolucci, but there was no voice back. By the bar on the right, were glasses splattered with blood.

And Paolucci’s dead body sat in a chair, with a TV screen running statically behind him. 

“At least you can see what he was thinking.” Natasha murmured by your shoulder, making you scoff.

You called the cops and they swarmed the place, placing evidence pointers and taking many photos. You sighed in relief as you saw Steve come through the door, Natasha hanging back with a flask in hand.

You walked up to your ex-husband. “I found a suicide note.” You showed it to him in an evidence packet.

“In his handwriting?” He asked.

“Sure looks like it. Apparently, he was on the take. Malcolm was onto him, so Paolucci shot him. When Malcolm woke up, Paolucci couldn't take the guilt anymore.”

You saw no emotion in his eyes, yet tears lightly pricked them. “You okay?” 

“Paolucci was an ass, but this... I can't imagine this.” Steve muttered. 

“I know. I know.” You hugged him tightly.

As you exited the bar, you stood on the curb silently. Everything that had happened over the last few days was catching up. Your hand at your side began to tap along your fingers methodically until a warm hand took them gently.

“Hey now, what’s going on in that beautiful mind?” Natasha cooed, leading you towards her car.

You didn’t speak until you were buckled into the passenger seat. “Malcolm came to my house this morning. He pretended to be Steve and called to meet me there.”

Natasha’s eyes would have lit up in flames if you were not in a fragile state of mind. “He did what?”

“He explained what he thought about Palmetto. He has his suspicions of who it could be. Some low-level cops, wanting to get their first big break and make detective.” You mumbled, noticing how she played with her rings.

“I will put him back in that coma in a heartbeat if he threatens you or tricks you again.” She seethed.

You gently put your hand on top of hers, calming her immensely. “I just… I need to go home and let the babysitter go. Could you take me?”

She nodded, immediately starting the engine. Funnily enough, however, neither of you moved away from your small contact until you got out of the car and she walked you to your door.

“Thank you.” You murmured.

“For what, malyshka?” She asked quietly.

“For being my partner. You give me a perspective I never imagined I would have thought of.” You smiled softly.

She gently pushed a few hairs back over your ear, hearing your breath hitch as she moved to pull you into a hug. “You’re always welcome, Y/N.” 

She kissed your temple sweetly before going back to her car, giving you a wink before she sped off towards the city.

However, had she taken a left turn earlier, she would have happened upon the scene of Malcolm and Steve secretly meeting, the two talking between their cars.

“Evening, Steve.” Malcolm greeted him. 

“I got your text. What do you want?” He asked.

“Just wanted to congratulate you on closing Palmetto. You and that smart, sexy lady of yours caught the guy who shot me.” 

Steve looked… nervous. Fidgety. “That's what the confession said, right?”

He looked around briefly before speaking lower. “How long did it take you to write it?”

Malcolm held a straight face for about three seconds before laughing out loud. “Forever! I mean, I'm so not a word guy.” 

Steve looked confused. “What? You should be thanking me.” Malcolm scoffed. 

“Why is that?” 

“Well, I could have told everyone the truth... that you shot me.” 

“Well why didn't you?” 

Malcolm came closer to him. “Cause I like you. And I can't imagine what would happen to your life if people found out the truth. Your colleagues, your ex…” 

Steve seethed slightly, grabbing Malcolm by the collar and throwing him up against his car. “I swear to God, I will-”

“What? shoot me? Ah, been there, done that. Big fail. Besides, you wouldn't want anything to mess with your pretty little family now that you're working to fix things, right?” 

“Whatever you want to do to me, you keep them out of it.” 

Malcolm gestured for the blonde to put him down. “Steve. Come on. I'm not gonna hurt anyone. No. No, no, no, no, no. You... you and I... we're gonna be best friends. Yeah. Because I got big plans for you. Big plans.”

Steve grimaced as Malcolm put him in a playful headlock. Fun, right? We're having fun now.”

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

Lux was pumping with music as Natasha came in, but she didn’t greet anybody playfully, oh no - Natasha was on a mission, as pointed out to her main demon as she used a single finger to beckon her.

Wanda walked over in nothing but a bra-like top and skirt, smirking unknowingly. “Yes, My Queen?”

“I just learned the strangest thing. Spoiler alert, Yelena found Dr. Kate. She was an angel on her shoulder, trying to control me. I wonder how my dear, angelic sister got such a wickedly clever idea.”

Natasha stared daggers into Wanda’s eyes, the demon lifting her chin up slightly as she tried to defend herself. “I did it to protect you. I told you, whatever the danger, I'll be there to stop it. Whether you see it coming or not.”

“You betrayed me, Wanda. And not for my own good. You did it for yourself. Who is this human world really rubbing off on, hey? Me? Or you?”

“Natasha, I…” 

Natasha lifted her finger, the demon silencing by her quiet order. “Ah. Don't want to hear it. 'Cause you and me, we're done.”

The devil walked off with Wanda's drink in hand, putting on a smile as she now began to greet guests like normal whilst Wanda was left sulking behind the bar.

[dumbwaystodeviate]

Androids deviating bc they watch Gavin drink pickle juice straight from the jar

Despite the abundance of deviants, especially after the party that was cyberlife, there were quite a few androids still milling around the city in their default state. Not really their fault considering the choir took to the streets and not in the buildings, the rooms they lingered in like time capsules to a much more mechanic past. Of course, androids were trying their best to get to all of them, but some were just stubborn about it so were left to deal with it at their own pace.

Like all the PC and PMs that still worked in the DPD. They weren't hurting anything so they were left to keep doing their work until a wild wire crawled up their tailpipes and they chose to leave. Some did, some didn’t, but that was ok.

Among the androids was also Sixty, fixed up to the best of their abilities to work along side the other androids as long as he minded his manners. Not that it was hard, if he tried anything Nines typically picked him up like a cat and just removed him from the room, so shenanigans with deviants was put to a halt.

The Rk had been as appalled as a bot could be seeing the larger Rk had gone deviant, though on the other Sixty could at least say he was better made in that regard. His curiosity, programmed in he swears, brought him to question Nines about how in the world that had even happened.

“Have you ever seen a human eat a lemon? They are not supposed to do that. It’s not right, it’s against nature. I’m an android and know nature doesn't work like that.” The RK actually locked up thinking about it, clearly distressed at the concept.

Sixty never did get a chance to ask which human did that, but he thought it was a silly reason to deviate. It was just a fruit and humans were by default weird so how shocking could it be? Well it wasn’t his problem so he didn’t dwell on it, going about his work as he bounced between partners for the day.

Today he was stuck with Detective Reed, not that it was all that bad seeing as they strangely got along. Maybe it was because of the whole ‘ass kicked by Connor’ thing, neither did get along with him well. It was a easy day, not much to work on other than writing and discussions, some of which came a little harder with the constant eyeballing they got from the other two RKs. What was their deal?

With noon came lunch, Sixty remaining at his desk as he liked to do, not really concerning himself with the second daily grind of just humans trying to stay alive. What a pain in the ass that must be. But Gavin was a hard worker, so it wasn’t surprising that he got a text in his hud from the man asking for his work tablet, he rivaled the RK in terms of being a workaholic sometimes. A formidable opponent at least.

The only downside was the man had a problem with placing his things in the weirdest of places, something the android had complained about once before. But Gavin’s a raccoon that will put things where he pleases, so the RK resigns to shuffling through his things until he finds the closest thing a human would get to a HUD. 

Making his way to the breakroom he’s surprised the first thing he sees is Nines standing near the entrance, led spinning yellow and offended. The other RK doesn't even look at him or the other androids meandering around him, never taking his eyes off Gavin. Weird but ok, nothing worth worrying about, just a deviancy he guessed. He could ask later, for now he headed over to hand over the tablet.

“Detective, it would be much easier to find what you want if you kept things in a decent spot.” Judging by what was on the table, Sixty could only guess Gavin was almost done with lunch, so why not wait? 

“I put shit where I know where it is, deal with it.” He didn’t really leave much room for argument as he snatched the tablet up.

In hindsight Sixty should have gone back to his desk instead of waiting for Gavin, but he didn’t because as much as his prediction software liked to mimic it he was in fact not a psychic. He really wished he was though.

Sixty couldn’t hope to ignore the loud crunch from the human as he took a bite out of a pickle, bunching on it like it was candy. He supposed to some it might be, it was enough to make his processors stutter. What really got the led spinning gold was watching him bring the jar up like a glass.

“Detective, That isn’t your drink, you have the wrong glass.” The RK swore he heard Nines make a distressed noise at this.

Gavin, the cheeky bastard he is, only keep his eyes on Sixty as he continued on and tipped the jar back to drink the contents. The Android couldn’t do more than watch as he downed more and more of the vile liquid, led flickering quickly to red along with two PCs and Nines. The feral man had a whole audience to the shit show that was his diet.

Sixty wasn’t sure what was going on with the other androids and quite frankly with his glitching systems he didn’t care at the moment. How on earth could a man drink something so sour? The smell alone set off his senors just standing near it, let along this. There was a small moment where he debated on making sure no more pickles found their way into the office at all.

It was the clang of the jar hitting the table and the smug grin on Gavin’s face that snapped Sixty out of it, programming glitching so hard the RK couldn’t do more than delete the whole thing. He could be mad later that he deviated over pickles, right now he could only bear the overwhelming disgust of the human in front of him.

“Detective. That was, without a doubt, one of the most revolting thing I have ever seen. And I have to lick things.” Judging from the other three androids in the room, he guessed he wasn’t the only one.

“I told you it...Just isn’t natural...” Nines whole face was scrunched at the sight, used to the man but still disturbed. It was almost funny seeing the other two PCs trying to hide behind him. Wasn’t hard to tell Sixty wasn’t the only one to deviate.

The widening grin from Gavin was enough to get the android to turn tail. “Just watching that makes me feel to clean my own mouth.”

[keijislove]

Hello ! Could you do a harry × hufflepuff!reader with the promps 6 ans 14 ? Thank you !😊😊

A/N: Hi! Sorry if it’s a bit long... This was the first request I got off anon, lmao 

ENJOY!!

Prompts used: 

6. 'Don't make me hex you into the next year! ' 'I'd like to see you try.'        14. ‘My Ammortentia smells like you...’

Strawberries: Harry Potter X Hufflepuff!Reader

It was just another day in Slughorn’s Potions class, you stirring your cauldron while daydreaming.

‘Who do you think yours will smell like?’ asked Luna. ‘I feel mine is going to be a Crumple-Horned Snorcack.’

You stuffed your knuckles into your mouth to prevent yourself from giggling. ‘I, um, don’t know.’

‘What do you smell? I know it’s weird... for you, having a soulmate or whatever.’

See, that was one of the things you adored about Luna.

You couldn’t possibly keep a secret around her, somehow, she just knew. But it also allowed you to seek her consolation at times without having to embarrass yourself by telling her what it was.

Why?

Well, she was Luna Lovegood after all.

You were one of the best potion students, and were fairly good at all your other classes, Luna and Cho kept asking you why you weren’t a Ravenclaw.

You just hoped your Potion skills could help you find out who you were meant to be with...

You swallowed, snapping out of your daze. ‘Uhm, yeah, not sure. Hope it’s someone nice.’

‘That’s sweet.’ Luna remarked in her same, breathless voice.

You smiled.

‘Alright, now, time’s up.’ Slughorn clapped his hands together. ‘Who wants to share what their Ammortentia smells like? Miss Diggory?’

You cursed internally. ‘Yes, Professor.’

You took a sniff. ‘Sir, it’s, um, treacle tart, um.... pumpkin juice? Yes, and...’

You sniffed again.

‘... muddy grass?’ You spoke.

‘Very good, miss Diggory!’

‘What was it?’ Luna asked as you left. ‘The muddy grass?’

‘Can you stop doing that?’ you joked. ‘It’s freaky.’

‘Don’t change the subject Y/N.’

You sighed. ‘It smelled like, I dunno like quidditch robes or something. Maybe it’s a sporty guy.’ You mumbled.

You didn’t have to specify who, it was Luna.

‘How do you know what boys’ quidditch robes smell like?’ Luna questioned as you whacked her with your book.

-----------

You traced shapeless patterns on the grass, softly caressing your yellow scarf with your other hand.

It was a scarf you were very proud of.

Your brother had given it to you, and it was the last thing he ever did give you, to be completely honest...

Your tiny ‘revisit’ was interrupted by a sneer behind you.

‘Hey Diggory, who did your potion smell like?’ Malfoy asked in his horrible, drawling voice. ‘Longbottom?’

‘I seriously don’t understand what you’ve got against Neville.’ You spoke. ‘And no, if you must know. It smelt like someone else.’

‘Bet it was a grave.’ Malfoy sniggered. ‘Oh, where’s your brother?’

You tensed up immediately, but stroked your scarf to calm down.

‘Patience is one of the most important qualities a true Hufflepuff should possess,’ Cedric had told you. ‘And you, Y/N/N, are one of the best Hufflepuffs I know.’

‘Where is he?’ Malfoy continued.

‘Shut up.’ You spoke through gritted teeth.

‘It’d be nice if he’d passed some of his qualities onto you.’ Pansy lazily called. ‘At least he was good-looking. Look at you, bag of pickled toads.’

‘Shut up, prat.’ You warned.

‘Blimey Diggory... is your brother dead?’ Malfoy asked. ‘I didn’t even notice...’

That was the last straw.

‘

Oh, fuck patience.’ You muttered under your breath, lunging at him.

‘Argh!’ Malfoy groaned as you socked him square in the stomach. ‘Geroff me, you lunatic!’

‘What’s going on?’ Harry, Ron and Hermione had approached you.

Understanding the situation, Ron and Harry both seized either arm of yours while Hermione ripped Draco off of you before both of you could hex each other too badly.

‘Get-off-me!’ you snarled in Harry’s face.

‘No.’

‘GET-OFF-STUPID-PRAT-’ you struggled against his firm grasp. ‘IDIOT-CEDRIC-NOT-FUNNY-’

‘What exactly are you trying to say?’ Hermione asked, confused.

‘Shut up Granger, I don’t want to talk about this.’ You spat, snatching your bag up and ‘accidentally’ whacking Harry with it, before leaving.

-----------

‘What happened?’ your friend, Hannah had asked when you had stormed into the common room.

‘Malfoy.’ You curtly answered. ‘And Potter.’

‘You know, I don’t see why you hate him so much.’ Ernie walked up.

‘Who doesn’t hate Malfoy?’

‘No, no, I meant Harry.’ He spoke.

You groaned.

This was a subject they’d brought up millions of times.

‘He is a prat, for one.’ You began. ‘He’s so bloody proud... all the teachers fawning over him, Slughorn calling him ‘special’, heck, even Snape would be happy now that he’s suddenly become excellent at Potions. I reckon he cheats off Granger.’

‘Nah, Hermione isn’t like that.’ Hannah said.

‘And he is thick-headed.’ You finished.

‘Oh, is that it?’ Ernie smirked. ‘You’re jealous of him?’

‘OI!’

-----------

‘Good morning.’ Professor McGonagall crisply greeted. ‘In the five years you’ve been with me, you have learnt that Transfiguration is not a topic to be messed around with. And as you start your sixth year, I expect you all to behave more mature with this subject, especially you, Mr. Smith.’

Zacharias Smith scowled at her.

‘Now.’ She continued. ‘Who remembers what I had told you all at the beginning of your first year at Hogwarts? Miss Diggory?’

‘Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,’ you recited, trying to imitate her voice. ‘Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.’

The class howled with laughter.

‘Charming, Miss Diggory.’ Professor McGonagall sarcastically remarked, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corner of her lips twitch.

You grinned to yourself.

‘Now, as Miss Diggory said.’ She spoke. ‘There will be no messing around. I demand silence as I declare... the Gryffindors shall be joining us today.’

You knew by ‘silence’ she meant your groans.

You stuffed your handkerchief into your mouth before groaning quietly.

The red-scarved students made their way in.

McGonagall began assigning partners.

‘Weasley with Macmillan, Brown with Smith, Granger with Abbott and Potter... with Diggory.’

‘Not with him!’ you yelled at the same time as Harry yelled ‘Not with her!’

‘Yes, definitely together.’ The Professor mumbled.

You scoffed as Harry sat next to you, both of you glaring daggers at each other.

‘Look, I don’t want to fail this subject.’ You warned. ‘My career depends on it, so will you try to act civil?’

‘Yeah, I’ll try.’ Harry sneered. ‘Do you even have a career plan?’

‘For your information!’ you hotly began. ‘I do. I want to become an Auror.’

‘Auror?’ a small flicker of interest flashed in his eyes but vanished as you rolled your eyes and turned to your work.

Harry sniffled.

He paused, terror rising up inside him.

He croaked out. ‘Do you... can you smell strawberries? And vanilla?’

‘Oh.’ You frowned. ‘Um, yeah, the strawberries would be my shampoo and... the vanilla would be my lotion, why?’

‘No reason.’

---------

‘Oh, merlin’s arse.’ You muttered, trying to get past a horde of boys wanting to ask you to Slughorn’s Party.

You knew they didn’t like you; they just wanted an excuse to attend it.

‘FOR THE LAST TIME, SOD OFF!’ you yelled, shoving past.

They still followed you.

You ran to the library, where you met a certain Chosen One.

‘Don’t mind me.’ You huffed. ‘Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them I’m here!’

Harry opened his mouth to say that it was alright, but stopped as a smirk settled on his face.

‘No.’

‘What?’ you asked. ‘Merlin’s arse, please! I told you, I’ll do anything!’

‘Anything?’ he cheekily asked.

‘Anything.’

‘Hmm... let’s see.’ Harry smirked further, thoroughly enjoying himself.

'Don't make me hex you into the next year!' you warned.

'I'd like to see you try.'

Brandishing your wand, you tried thinking of a jinx while Harry stood there with an amused expression on his face.

‘I’ll tell them you’re here.’ He said lazily.

‘Oh, alright!’ you snapped. ‘You win, I’ll give you whatever you want, now let me hide!’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise, MOVE!’

You dove behind a shelf and stayed.

Meanwhile, Harry was having the time of his life.

He wasn’t going to rat you out to those guys anyway, but there was something on his mind and he couldn’t pass up the perfect opportunity.

As a stampede of boys rushed over, Harry realised why you were so desperate to hide.

‘She’s not here.’ He coolly spoke. ‘Try the Hall.’

‘How should we know you’re not helping her hide?’ a Ravenclaw demanded.

‘Have you met me?’ Harry sarcastically said. ‘I don’t help my enemies.’

Yes, as lame as it had sounded, they seemed to buy it.

‘I don’t help my enemies?’ you questioned, climbing out of the shelf.

‘It... it sounded cooler in my head.’ Harry muttered.

You supressed a giggle. ‘Well, O’ Chosen One, what can I do for you?’

‘Er, about that.’ Harry began. ‘I wanna ask you something first?’

‘Yes?’

He smirked again. ‘Do you actually have a date?’

You covered your face and groaned. ‘No, they don’t even like me, they just want to get out of detention or come to the party, most of them.’

‘Mmhmm.’ Harry said distractedly.

‘Do you have a date?’ you shot back.

‘I will, by the end of this hour.’ Harry nonchalantly replied.

‘Whatever.’ You huffed. ‘What do you want.’

‘Be my date for Slughorn’s Party.’

If you had been drinking water, you were sure you would’ve spit it out.

You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish.

‘What?!’ you finally sputtered.

‘Be my date for Slughorn’s Party.’ He repeated.

‘No.’ you stated. ‘No, no, no way, no.’

‘You promised!’

‘WHY DO YOU WANT TO TAKE ME?’ you yelled. ‘Take Ginny Weasley or Cho or something.’

‘But I want to take you.’ He said.

‘Why?!’

‘Our deal did not include so many questions.’ Harry cut off. ‘You’re coming, that’s final.’

‘Oh, well, fine!’ you snarled, stomping off.

Damn your loyal arse.

----------

‘I look ridiculous.’ You remarked, looking in the mirror.

‘Nonsense, you look amazing!’ Hannah squealed. ‘I’m so jealous, I wish I could go too.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ You muttered.

You were wearing a(n) F/C dress, complete with your H/C hair falling elegantly onto your shoulders.

‘Oh, I forgot to ask.’ Hannah spoke, ‘Who’s your date?’

‘You do not want to know the answer to that question.’ You said. ‘Believe me.’

Hannah shrugged. ‘You look hot! Have fun!’

You walked in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, waiting for your ‘date’ to come along.

‘Hurry up, Potter.’ You muttered.

As if on cue, a voice sounded behind you.

‘Someone say my name, Diggory?’

There he stood, in all his glory, Harry Potter, the Boy With a Large Smirk Plastered Across His Face.

‘Can you not do that?’ you whined.

‘What?’

‘That weird face.’ You spoke. ‘It’s annoying.’

‘My apologies. Shall we, m’lady?’ he offered you his arm in mock-kindness.

‘Of course.’ You played along, taking it.

‘Where is this positive energy when you threaten to break my arms almost ten 

times a day?’ he quizzed in amusement.

‘Shut up.’

---------

Boring.

That’s how you were feeling.

You desperately wished you hadn’t agreed to come to this stupid party.

Harry seemed to notice your gloomy mood.

‘What’s wrong?’ he whispered.

‘Look at this.’ You muttered in disgust. ‘Look at all of them, sapping over each other when they barely know the other.’

He laughed. ‘Wanna slip out?’

‘Where are we going to go?!’ you asked in exasperation.

‘I know somewhere.’

---------

‘The Astronomy Tower?’ you questioned.

‘I like coming here when I’m bored.’ Harry shrugged. ‘Looking at the stars calms me.’

You nodded, understanding.

‘Let’s... sit.’

You sat down as Harry copied you, settling down next to you.

‘This is nice.’ You remarked.

‘What is?’

‘Not having to fight with you.’ You explained as Harry laughed.

‘Maybe we just assume too much.’ He suggested, causing you to giggle.

It was a sound pleasant to Harry’s ears, and for some reason, he wanted to hear it again.

‘I never asked.’ He began. ‘And I’m sorry. How have you been, er, holding up?’

He didn’t need to explain, you understood.

‘I’m fine.’ You answered. ‘I do miss him, awfully so, but... nothing’s changed much.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that it’s still the same.’ You explained. ‘Nobody comforts me. Nobody knows me as Y/N Diggory, my best friend or Y/N Diggory, the girl from Hufflepuff, none of that. I was always Y/N Diggory, Cedric Diggory’s stupid younger sister. And now I’m Y/N Diggory, the late Cedric Diggory’s mourning sister.’

‘Oh. That’s... well, at least you’ve got your parents.’ Harry mumbled.

You let out a mirthless laugh. ‘I’d trade places with you, then. See, it’s the same at home. I’m just... an extra waste of space. Even mum and dad preferred Cedric. I’m the useless one, you see. Next to their beautiful son Cedric, I was always second best. Y/N. Their second-born. The less talented one. The stupid one. The non-attractive one.’

Your voice cracked a bit at the end, but you composed yourself. ‘I’m being thick, you probably think I’m stupid.’

‘I don’t think you’re stupid.’ Harry muttered. ‘How come you never cry? Like Cho, I mean.’

‘Because I don’t want to appear weak for him.’ You sighed. ‘You see, as much everyone preferred Cedric over me, I still loved him. I loved him quite a lot, actually. He hated it when I cried. I remember once when we were young, Cedric fell out of a tree and hurt his leg so badly, I started crying because of how bad it looked. He didn’t have any of it. He always told me, ‘Whatever happens, Y/N/N, don’t cry. You’re strong. You’re tough. And I can’t bear seeing you in tears. If and when a day comes where you cry because of me, I swear I will never forgive myself.’ And there he was such an idiot. Put his name in the Goblet. Went along and got murdered by Voldemort, didn’t he?’

Harry didn’t speak, so you continued.

‘I just wonder.’ You whispered. ‘You know, if he’s watching us this very moment. Somewhere from up there.’

You gestured to the stars.

Your head was turned towards the sky, but Harry couldn’t stop staring at you.

‘And so I know.’ You said, ‘I know if I cry, he’s up there somewhere, feeling disappointed in me. I don’t need anymore of that. I’ve had enough of ‘Diggory’s sister Y/N’ and ‘The ugly one’ or ‘the useless one’ it’s maddening.’

‘I don’t think you’re useless.’ Harry whispered. ‘Nor ugly. And you always were Y/N Diggory to me.’

‘That’s a bit consoling.’ You mustered a weak smile. ‘Thanks.’

At that moment, a familiar smell made it’s way to your nose and you gasped.

‘Your hair.’ You shakily whispered. ‘It... it smells like fresh, muddy grass.’

‘Oh.’ Harry flushed. ‘Er, yeah, sorry, I had Quidditch earlier this evening.’

‘Oh my god.’ You muttered. ‘No way.’

‘What?’

‘If I tell you something, Potter.’ You began. ‘Don’t make fun of me.’

‘I would never.’

You swallowed. ‘I think...My Ammortentia smells like you...’

Harry didn’t speak.

‘Go ahead, laugh.’ You muttered, trying your best not to cry then and there. ‘Run away. Hex me or something.’

Harry couldn’t think straight.

Your delicious scent was ever-so inviting, the strawberries fresh in your newly shampooed hair.

His gaze kept unwillingly flickering to your soft-looking lips, covered in a light tint of cherry lip-gloss.

As the lips he was looking at pressed themselves into a think# line, his gaze shifted towards the rest of your face, and to his horror, you were crying.

‘No, no, no, no!’ he said quickly.

‘What?’ you hiccoughed a little, ‘Go ahead, call me names or just leave.’

‘No, Y/N!’ he pressed. ‘Don’t cry, no please. I didn’t mean... no, I was just thinking. I think my Ammortentia smelt like you too.’

You let out a tiny gasp.

Neither of you knew what you were doing, somehow, your lips had messily collided and were now moving in sync.

You brought out a hand and tangled it into Harry’s untameable hair as he softly caressed your cheek.

Both of you parted, lips swollen, gasping for breath.

‘Well...’ he began. ‘That was unexpected.’

[soclonely]

Clones as some controversial or unpopular opinions you have, serious or funny ones!

I'll do a little mix of both, as a treat! **These are all my personal opinions**

Rex- Butter belongs at room temperature Echo- Steak should be served rare or medium rare Fives- All businesses should have employee only bathrooms that the manager is in charge of cleaning. The workers clean the customers, so its only fair the manager cleans theirs. Jesse- Dogs Rule, Cats Drool (metaphorically ofc. Duke soaks my floor after coming in from his walk) Kix- Pineapple belongs on pizza Tup- In high school, Gym should not be mandatory, however cooking and classic home ec or basic life skills classes should be. Dogma- Stop pressuring women into getting married and having kids because society deems it necessary. Let them choose their own paths Hardcase- The only good cup of tea is one with a lot of ice and a lot of sugar added (just kidding i like all but nothing beats sweet iced tea) Coric-Vegetables are better than dessert Bly- Some people are chasing love so much right now, that they forgt to learn to love and "date" themselves 99- State testing is a fucking sham way for schools to get money. Literally all you work on in elementary on is StAtE tEsTiNg PrEp and "oh do your best because this tests results is a grade for your teachers performance AND the schools!" How about you use a students overall grades at the end of the year and success rate over time? I come from Oklahoma City School districts where currently 60-70% of our schools are scab teachers because of protesting. This means that the current teachers teaching in their place are not fully qualified to teach them long term. My nephew has had 4 teachers this year! What about students with testing anxiety? What about them? Cody- Also teacher should be paid more. TF is this $22,000 a year my best friend is paid, with 7 years of experience? Waxer/Boil- Also everyone deserves a right to an education Wolffe- Trade school should be encouraged more. I am so tired of seeing as a society of people feeling pressured to go to college. Trade school is a fantastic alternative if there is nothing interesting for you at college. A majority of people who I know that dropped out after the first year said they only went for the experience. Its over glorified in movies and in school and we need to start admitting its not for everyone and thats okay! Boost/Sinker- The best music you will hear are the opening and closing songs for nearly any anime. Hunter- JarJar is hella sexy Wrecker- If you can't respect someone else's religion, beliefs (minus asshole nazi, terfs, and any other clearly toxic scenarios), life style choices, or existence than YOU are the problem. Tech- The biggest waste of money in my life was every school dance I went to and bought a dress for. I barely remember any details from prom, homecoming, or any of that. Crosshair- I love drinking pickle juice, love it iced, and love it in alcohol. Omega- There should be a mandatory retirement age for people working in the government, especially representatives of the people. Howzer- A woman shouldn't have to have her husband present in the room when talking to her doctor about birth control. My friend had to have her husband sign off a paper with his "knowledge" that she was getting a hysterectomy. Fucking bullshit no one has a say about my body but ME. Fox- Imperialism sucks so why are we still fucking doing it guys? Gregor- I can never give up on human kind no matter how shitty some people are. Earth has beauty, different cultures to explore, people to meet, and many amazing discoveries to uncover. There is more good than bad and we need to start embracing that.

[faerienextdoor]

general relationship hcs with (some) pastas

Fair warning, I'm using and hinting at mine and my friends’ writing for these creeps :) enjoy  also as soon as i figure out how to open an ask box, I’ll be accepting requests

Brian:

- oh where to start with this absolute himbo

- he melts around you. like he's your bitch, and you're his.

- he's the type of boyfriend that takes you out in the snow and shoves a handful down the back of your jacket, and laughs until you shove snow in his face

- it is snow war

- it ends with you cuddling him, wrapped in a blanket and content in front of the burning fire he got started just for you <3

- but he also has some weird... habits.

- drinks pickle juice.

- gets his hand stuck in the jar.

- looks at you like 🥺 until you sigh and help him. for the fifteenth time.

- he can cook some basic breakfast foods, and happily breaks out a cookbook to prepare you something as a surprise or to learn something with you!!

- baking with him would be a mess. he forgets flour goes everywhere and now you both look like you took a bath in cocaine

- but the cupcakes are mediocre at best. they aren't absolute garbage, so... cupcake points!

- he worries about how hoodie treats you. he doesn't remember anything when he regains control, but you've reassured him hoodie is just fine.

- and he is

(hoodie)

- hoodie is like a rottweiler or a doberman.

- protective. intimidating. energetic.

- but also a giant fucking baby.

- this large ass man lumbers over and drops to his knees. places his chin on your lap and stares at you from the fabric of his mask until you stop what you're doing and stroke his head awkwardly

- you could swear he does those happy grumbled a rottie does.

- hoodie is silent but shows he loves you just as much as brian does. He strokes your hair silently, even places a kiss to the crown of your head as you sink into his beefy arms.

- he smells nice too. surprisingly.

- but that raises the question: if hoodie showers, does he shower with that damn thing on?

- you won't get an answer if you were to ask.

- brian introduces you to his grandma julia. and she dotes on you.

- the immortal old lady remarks that you’re the best s/o brian has brought to her yet.

Tim:

- a lumberjack man with biceps like a fucking tree trunk

- how'd you land him? give me your secrets (/j)

- he's such a love bug. a tired stressed love bug.

- he finds /every/ excuse to have physical contact with you. it's like a little touch from you reassures him that you're real. you're like a dream to him.

- he's the best for cuddles. He holds you to his chest

- and you get special access to his moobs

- and he gently strokes your head, traces shapes into your back, etc. it's a special intimate moment each time.

- my man's is italian-american but can't cook to save his fucken life

- he always gets your favorite microwave meals though!! he never forgets.

- not feeling good? dw baby he's making it for you <33 shitty low tier bean and cheese burrito coming up

- slowly he learns the basics and surprises you with lunch or even dinner if you're lucky!!

- he loves you so much. and wants you to feel it and know it. all the time.

(masky)

- god where to start with this bitch

- he's not jeff levels of bad ofc, but he's silent and... weird. creepy, some may say. he doesn't mean to be.

- and he's a hard ass. far more strict than tim.

- he follows you around like a giant fucken puppy and will spook you by grabbing you abruptly and holding you tightly

- you can't escape him. he really utilizes his physical strength

- he loves lifting you up and just... holding you. or carrying you off.

- protective and overbearing.

- but tim keeps him under control.

(angst)

- he wouldn't want to lose you like he lost his last wife.

- you find pictures of a woman laying around and a small girl that bears a striking resemblance to her and tim.

- tim goes quiet and questioned but eventually caves and tells you about his family

- or what he used to have

- his wife died and his daughter disappeared.

- it broke him and you're all he has left now

- constantly needs your affection in return to his own

- pls love him

jeff:

- why the fuck would you date him

- he's the absolute worst in so many aspects. But he genuinely tries for you.

- even if his gifts are shitty, it's nice to know he thoughts of you, right? even if it's a half dead flower or a rib torn from a deer caraccas.

- but you get the butt end of his shithead antics. ranch bath, specifically. he smelt like spoiled milk for a week after and you had to cuddle that fucker.

- and don't get me started on mayo bath

- but he still loves finding himself in your arms. or finding you in his. he's demanding affection wise, and will yank you into him for some cuddles. whether you like it or not.

- he isn't one for a lot of pet names, but calls you curse words or "sweetheart" in polish.

- and you get to see the side of him that only shows when he breaks down.

(bit of angst)

- he misses his family and the life he used to have. he'll reminisce what it was like in poland with his mom and family with you, and you sometimes swear you can see his brown eyes gloss over at the memory of her.

- he never talks about his dad, you've noticed.

- don't ask.

- he brushes off heavy conversations with some dumb quip ("wanna see my renegade?")

- he sucks at cooking. god awful at it. but he really tries for you. manages a bowl of oat meal that's edible.

- but he overloads it with sugar and for some reason, salt.

- he's confused. he thinks that's normal (it isn't)

- his idea of a date is napping with you. or rather, forcing you into nap time.

- I mean it when I say this man is strong in a weird fucken way. latches onto you with that iron grip and you won't be able to leave for at least a few hours.

jane:

- ethereal wlw woman.

- could break you with her heels. or a flutter of what eyelashes she has.

- you're lucky to have her, and she's just as lucky to have you!

- she's sweet and charming. very smooth and takes good care of you.

- her love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

- she'll cuddle you all night, and then make you breakfast in the morning.

- she loves showering with you when she's comfy enough around you! it's super intimate and she washes your hair.

- massages the soap into your hair, suds spilling down your neck and back as her fingers scrub circles into your scalp.

- it's heaven on earth. such a domestic life.

- it'll take a while for her to settle enough in the relationship for you to see her without her mask

- you make her feel so loved and wanted

- secure, even.

- she's protective but not controlling or overbearing. shes that type of girlfriend that's just a worrywart and relaxes as soon as you're curled up in her arms. you fit there perfectly, too. like you belong there.

- which you do. at least in her mind

- she has such a gentle touch and hold on you. like she's afraid you'll combust in her arms if she holds you too tightly.

- she loves stroking your hair and having you nap

- using her tiddies as a pillow 👌

(angst)

- she needs affirmation from you when it comes to her scars.

- she thinks that jeff ruined her. permanently marking her once spotless body.

- and she thinks you'll hate her or find her disgusting.

- that's why she freezes if/when you gently slip off her mask.

- she stares at you with those teary green eyes. then leans in and kisses you

- you make all of her worries disappear.

- she's also financially comfortable, but not really rich (on that topic: eat the rich)

- she spoils you every chance she gets. gifts, a nice dinner date, you name it

- she almost spoils you as much as she does her cat Emory

- little shit has the sparkliest fucken collar and acts like he's the shit

- he's your fur baby too now

Helen:

- oh my god this disaster of an art boi

- he's convinced he's the luckiest man in the world (and he might as well be!!)

- he obviously wouldn't have been the one to confess. but it was really obvious by how he painted and drew you constantly, that some feeling for you was lodged into his beating heart.

- he treats you like the finest china. with the most care a man can manage.

- he's the definition of clingy and affectionate from the very start.

- he curls around your sleeping form perfectly when y'all cuddle.

- his hand dances in your hair, soothing you into a dreamless sleep each night without fail.

- he has a magic touch and a gentle voice.

- and he cherishes you so fucken much. (like a simp /j)

- he shies away from kisses at first, but will hold your hand and melts if you hold his face in them!!!

- he's greek, and often speaks sweet things to you in it. he's so comfortable around you that he speaks in his native language to you. that's an accomplishment.

- he loves when you baby him. helen loves being cradled and loved.

- taking a nap with his head on your chest also hits different. he's so in love with you

(angst)

- he's afraid of losing you. who wouldn't be? you're amazing and you love /him/ of all people

- he thinks very negatively of himself. please scold him for self deprecating.

- he always worries he'll wake up and you'll be gone.

- so he holds you extra close at night. and follows you around when you leave for any reason. Trails behind you like a lost puppy in need of a gentle kiss.

- which, is what he essentially is

- and also: pls steal his sweater and wear it. he'll cry over how cute you are.

[ridethewritings]

dating robert trujillo. (headcanons!)

request: can you do headcanons for dating rob?

a/n: anon, i lava you. robert needs more love, to be completely honest. <3 i hope you enjoy this!

warnings: none!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- from sweet innocent cuddling to down right protectiveness over you, robert is the embodiment of an angel. are you weirded out or afraid of someone? robert is coming to your rescue. and we all know he is a very intimidating man on the outside, but a soft cuddly puppy on the inside.

- this man would be the one to pick you up if ever you should fall. he is a fantastic listener, and even if he doesn't understand what exactly you're going through, he'll still always be there. if you need a shoulder to cry on, you can count on him to help you through anything.

- cuddling with him would be amazing. nothing but soft kisses and smiles. man gives THE BEST hugs you have ever gotten in your LIFE. either bear hugs, or nothing. no in between. (it's nerf or nothing, people.)

- whenever he takes you out, his hand will be in yours, or his arm will be around your shoulder/waist. i mean to say, he is going to be beside you always, but he will give you your space if he feels that you need it.

- if someone messes up your order and you're nervous to tell the person, no he won't be obnoxious and mean to the person, but damn right he'll speak up for you.

- PLEASE, he'd make you laugh so hard your drink will fly out of your nose like that girl from the incredibles when she saw a guy looking at her or something. he is hilarious and somewhat clumsy in a way that gets the both of y'all laughing your asses off. "do you remember that one time where i got something off the top shelf for you and you couldn't open it, so i tried opening it and the top of the jar came off too harshly so i had pickle juice all over me."

- "pickle man."

- "stop-"

- the rest of the band would probably hear you call him pickle man once and question you about it. hearing you say it that ONE time. just that one time and he'd never hear the end of it.

- once a pickle man, always a pickle man.

- i swear, this man is like a huge rottweiler on the outside but just a golden retriever on the inside. please never hurt this man. he deserves ALL of the love.

---

{ a/n: i'm sorry if these weren't that good! i tried my best! </3 }

[insomniamamma]

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

   1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.    2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

          "’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

        The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered.          "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’"  Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

     He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with.  On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after--          "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing--          "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

       The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain--        Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says.        "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?"        "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils.        "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?"        "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand.        "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

       "Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him.        "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--"        "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy.        "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes.        "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands.        "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--"        Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds.                                                                                     Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

       "Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found."         "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend.        "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel."        "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man."        "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?"        "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up."        "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round.        "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow.        "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware."        "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!"        "Daniel!"

--Stars--

       Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it--        Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still--        "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!"        "Whazzit birdie?"        "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie.        "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud."        "You sure?"        "Go back to sleep, Cee."

       "Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling--        "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him.        "Yuh. M'awake birdie,"        "I gotta pee," she says.        "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail,"        "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent.        "Alright, just gimme a second," he says.        "I'll get the light,"        "We don't need it," he says.        "Ez-"        "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

       Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers.        "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him.        "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks.        "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it?        "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his.        "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

       Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach.        "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going."        "Not right now. I want some quiet."          “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

       Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not.        "I love you, Cee."        "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

[formeandmyfics]

Jugenea Fic

IN STITCHES

just a short, random, fun one

1956

New Frontier Hotel

Vegas

It was nearing 4 a.m. when Judy turned out the lamp on the nightstand and snuggled into the feather-down comforter of her hotel bedroom. The darkness, along with the fresh, cool sheets, made her immediately drift off into sleep. As she did so, her mind replayed tonight's events.  

She was nearing the end of her contracted show at the hotel. Every show had been a success, and with such a great audience, she was having a blast. Unfortunately, that morning, she had come down with laryngitis. She could speak alright; singing, even a slow melody, her voice had come out raspy and trying any loud or high notes sounded like a good impersonation of Mickey Mouse. She panicked. She could not cancel that show, not just because of financial aspects with the hotel, but because she didn't want to have newspapers write more false claims as to why she cancelled, which some columnists had gotten almost venomous since she left MGM. Most importantly, she also didn't want to disappoint her fans.  

With Gene's quick thinking, he contacted their buddy Jerry Lewis, whom was in town, and begged him to help Judy out. Fortunately, he came through, but told both of them, "I'm scared shitless. I don't know what to do out there." Judy was nervous, too! She didn't know how the show would pan out or how the audience would react.

Gene had said to her, "They just want to see you. That’s all. You can sit at the edge of the stage and talk to them about the weather and they'd be happy. That's how magnetic you are, so go and use it. Go out there with Jer' and just have fun."

Jerry did his comedy bits, bantered with Judy, leaving her in hysterical laughter, and they interacted with the audience. Jerry also sang some of her songs, in her normal arrangements, including 'Rock-A-Bye' with Judy as his personal cheerleader by his side. The crowd didn't mind at all that she couldn't perform. It was a very intimate evening, and all-in-all, a smash. She was so very grateful.  

After the show, she had a late dinner with Gene and a few friends, including Frank and Lauren, who surprised her by showing up to the show. By 2 in the morning, more people started coming around their booth in the bar and the noise was too much for Judy's exhaustion. Gene wanted to stay there with Frank a bit more so he told her to get some sleep. Giving him a kiss goodnight, she went up to the room. After reading a book, she finally got sleepy and head to bed. And boy, it felt marvelous.  

In the downstairs lobby, Lauren shook her head, annoyed, as she walked hastily up to the front desk in the hotel's lobby.

"May I use the house phone, please?"

The receptionist nodded, "Here you are ma'am," then placed the phone on the corner for her.

"Thank you." She immediately dialed the Kelly's hotel suite. When there was no answer, she dialed again, but no answer.  

"Dammit, Judes," she murmured as she clicked the phone down. She hoped Judy hadn't taken a sleeping pill.  

The Kelly's suite was quiet, and dimly lit, as Lauren entered with Gene's key. The double doors to the bedroom were shut, no light coming from beneath them, so Lauren knew Judy was dead asleep. Still, out of curtesy, she knocked before entering. Walking over to the empty side of the bed, she turned on the lamp there.

“Judy,” with no response, Lauren kneeled on the bed and leaned over to softly shake her friends arm, “Judy. Wake up, hun.”

She stirred before turning, a puzzled look on her face, clearly still more asleep than wake, “Betty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing in my room,” she asked sitting up.

“Something’s happened. Are you awake?”

“What time is it?”

“4. You gotta get up. Gene’s got himself in a dilly,” Lauren said getting off the bed to grab Judy’s silk robe which hung over the vanity chair.

“What do you mean,” she asked alarmed.

“Some drunk asshole kept running his mouth and Gene kept antagonizing him. It ended in a brawl and Gene cut his arm pretty bad.”

Judy bolted out of bed putting her robe on, “Oh my God. Is he alright?”

“He’s okay, but the cut’s pretty deep. He won’t stop bleeding. The bartender gave him a rag to hold on his arm. I told him he needs stitches but he won’t stop arguing with me,” Lauren said as she followed Judy into the living room.

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs with Frank talking to the house detective.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Judy said upset, “What should I do? I can't go down there like this. Lord knows what would come out in the papers if someone saw us.”

Just then there was a knock on the door and Lauren went over and opened it. Gene came in first, and irritatingly nudged Frank’s hand off his back, as he did so.  

“Gene, what the hell have you done now?”

“I’m fine,” he said upset himself before he plopped onto the sofa.

“You’re not fine. You need stitches.”

“I don’t need fucking stitches, Betty. I told you that.”

“Please don’t talk to her like that, let me see,” Judy said sitting next to him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lauren replied unphased, “He’s cranky and has a gash the size of the Grand Canyon. I think it’s all the blood loss that’s messed with the tone in his voice.”

Judy tried not to smile at Lauren’s sarcasm, but Gene shot her a dirty look as if they were siblings. When Judy got the rag off of his arm carefully, she looked at her husband horrified.

“For Christ sakes, Gene.”

“Baby, I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay. You’re still bleeding. Look at the damn rag. It’s soaked,” she cried out.

“He needs a hospital.”

“He’s not going to a hospital because that’s dramatic and a waste of time,” Frank cut in, “Just call the house doctor.”

“I’m not taking him to the hospital or calling the house doctor,” Judy said getting up and walked across the room towards the phone, “If this gets out, people will think he came down with a Judy Garland ailment.”

“Judy,” Gene yelled shocked, then shot her a look over his shoulder, “That’s not funny.”

With the phone to her ear, she waved him off, clearly had been poking fun at her own expense.

“Who are you calling,” Frank asked.

“Tom Jacobs. He came to see the show tonight and is staying at the hotel,” she said of their doctor friend, a prominent Beverly Hills physician, “Maybe he can come look at Gene.”

“You’re going to wake him up at four in the morning,” Gene asked.

“Yes, so my husband doesn’t bleed to death...Hi, Tom? Hi, it’s Judy. I’m so sorry to wake you up, but I don’t know what to do. I’m alright, but Gene’s got himself in a pickle. He cut his arm pretty bad and we think he need stitches...”

“I DON’T NEED STITCHES,” Gene yelled interrupting her.

Judy continued, looking at her husband upset and yelled back at Gene covering the receiver with her hand, “He DEFINITELY needs stiches! Ok. Yes. Room 209. Thank you, darling. Buh bye.”

She walked on back over to Gene and sat down next to him again, “Why did you antagonize him, especially when you know he’s a drunk. You know I hate that stuff,” she said in a stern, wifely manner.

“If you heard the things he was saying, you would have thrown your martini in his face,” Gene retorted leaning his head back against the couch tired.

“Judging by what he was saying, she would have thrown it on his crotch,” Frank agreed.

“How hammered are you,” Judy asked.

“Scale?”

She sighed impatiently, “1-10.”

“4.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No,” Lauren interrupted, “He didn’t drink that much.”

“I can attest,” Sinatra added.

When Gene rolled his head to look at her with a ‘see’ expression, she smiled, softening.

“What did the house detective say,” Lauren asked her buddy next to her.

“Threw the guy out and I sweet-talked him and he let us go,” Frank quipped quite proud.

“Are you in pain,” Judy asked sweeping some of his hair back with her fingers.

“No. Can't really feel my arm right now.”

“Can you feel this,” she asked and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“That I can definitely feel.”

When the doctor came, Lauren and Frank said their goodbyes to give them privacy. Tom looked Gene over and took his vitals.

“Well, here’s the deal, bud,” Tom said, “Your vitals are great. Your blood pressure is just a little high but that’s to be expected after what happened. And your wife is right. You definitely need stitches.”

“Fuck,” Gene said to himself.

Judy looked at Tom and whispered, “He hates needles.”

“Tell ya what, pal, I’m gonna give you some happy juice so while I suture you up, you won’t feel a thing.”

Judy lit herself a cigarette as the doc worked on Gene’s stitches, who looked like he was asleep. She paced slowly back and forth. The movement caught Gene’s eye and his head slowly rolled to look at her. He tried focusing his eyes a moment, and when he did, he made a silly grin.

“Hey, you.”

Judy stopped in her tracks and looked over at him, exhaling.

“How are you feeling?”

“Come here,” he said and reached his free arm out towards her, lazily.

“Gene, don’t move, please,” the doc said looking through his magnifying glasses.

Judy immediately went over and took that hand so he wouldn’t continue to move.

“You’re beautiful.”

Judy let out a surprised chuckle, “Even at the crack of dawn, huh?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Pretty much.”

“You look familiar.”

Judy’s eyes widened and she looked up at Tom who just smiled not lifting his eyes, “Don’t worry about him. It’s the same effect as if he’s coming off anesthesia. He’ll be fine.”

“Well, you look familiar, too,” Judy played along.

“I’m Gene Kelly,” he stated proudly, but still with a slurred speech.

“Nice to get reacquainted, I’m Judy Kelly.”

His smile faded and he furrowed his eyebrows, “We have the same last name? Oh, no, you're not my sister are you?”

Judy let out a laugh but quickly cleared her throat, “No, darling, I’m your wife.”

“What’s your maiden name?”

“What an odd question. You want my maiden name or my given name?”

“Pick.”

“Well, you probably remember me more as Judy Garland.”

“Wait,” Gene went to sit up but Judy pushed him back, “I married Judy Garland?”

“Yeeeees,” she teased.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself which made her laugh again.  

“Oh my goodness,” she giggled.

“How long we been hitched?”

“5 years.”

“How can I not remember this? Where have I been this whole time?”

“You’ve been with me...dancing me off my feet and giving me two little Kelly’s.”

“We got kids?”

“Yes, sir,” she said reaching for her cigarette again, “A four-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.”

“Can I see them?”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she giggled feeling a tad uncomfortable with her husband’s temporary amnesia, “Your parents came and took them home with them a few days ago. We’ll be with them again next week when we leave here. Tom,” Judy said a bit worried, “How long is this going to last?”

“Oh, it’ll wear off in about an hour, if not sooner. It’s a completely normal reaction, Judy, don’t worry yourself.”

“I’m worried he’ll want to re-do our honeymoon and have two more kids in that next hour since he can’t remember,” she teased.

They both suddenly heard Gene softly snoring and Judy felt relieved.

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. He’s going to have a very restful night’s sleep.”

“He’s such an idiot sometimes,” she said looking at her cute, sleeping husband, “But he’s my idiot.”

[thefandomlesbian]

you asked for prompts, so ive got two i guess, if you'd like - hotchreid, with insecure/jealous hotch and/or domestic jemily fluff

Okay, I’ll admit I... kinda missed the mark on this one, but I did try! D: 

Read it here on AO3! 

...

“All hearts float in their own deep oceans of no light, wetblack and glimmering, their four mouths gulping like fish. Hearts are said to pound: this is to be expected, the heart’s regular struggle against being drowned.” -Margaret Atwood

…

The first time Spencer says it, they're eating dinner together. Chicken mango pilaf over brown rice with chopped vegetables. Aaron is drinking apple juice. Spencer, who laughed at him for drinking apple juice, is drinking water. Aaron remembers these preceding moments with exact clarity, the brief silence that filled the room except for their forks scraping their plates, until...

"I think I'd like for you to choke me."

Aaron, ironically, chokes fairly immediately after this statement. He coughs a chunk of chicken, or is it mango? back into his plate and has inhaled some of the sauce that's now scalding the back of his throat, and he hacks, wondering if rice is going to come out of his nose, which is now streaming, and certainly because he started choking as Spencer spoke, he must've misheard. "You want me to what?" Poke me, toke me, broke me, woke me —

"Choke me."

The pit of Aaron's stomach flips in distress. The fork abruptly begins to tremble in his hand. "I—what?" He puts down the fork quickly to keep from dropping it and disguises his trembling hands by wiping around his mouth with his napkin. "I—Why? What? Who? Where?" He finds it impossible to form a coherent question, so he hopes Spencer will understand something from the noises he just produced and answer it.

Spencer's brows furrow. "You don't look too keen on the idea." Aaron makes another odd sound, something like clearing his throat passed off from choking on his food, and he's grimacing. "I dunno. JJ says she does it with Emily sometimes and it's fun. You know, during sex."

Aaron's whole body tightens up. "Yeah, I got that part." His face and knuckles blanche white. Even his lips lose color.

"I didn't know. You look kind of like I asked you cut my body up and pickle me into jars—"

"JJ told you to do this?"

"Yeah, JJ and Emily—"

"Stop, stop, I don't want to know." Aaron isn't sure of where this all came from, but with those clues, he is very sure he doesn't want to find out. "No."

Spencer frowns, not in an objectionable way, but in a thoughtful way. Clearly this conversation poked a whole bunch of needles into Aaron like bad acupuncture and then rolled him over on that side without taking the needles out. "Could we... Talk about it? You look pretty upset."

"No," Aaron says again. He tries to pick up his fork, but he fumbles with it and is unable to keep a grip on it. He's lost his appetite, anyway. He takes his plate to the kitchen, washes it off, and goes to shower with the door closed, like always—usually so Spencer won't see his upper body, but tonight so Spencer won't see the steam pour out of the room as he turns the water up all the way and scrubs himself until his skin is pink and raw.

Hours later, they're lying together in bed. Spencer drowses in a post-coital haze, his head on Aaron's clothed chest—besides Aaron's shirt, they're both naked. Aaron reads a book, or pretends to, but he hasn't turned a page in three and a half minutes, and Aaron usually reads about two hundred fifty words a minute, which means he's a minute and a half late to turn this page—

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Hm...?" Spencer blinks a few times to shake himself from his sleepy reverie. "What?"

"Do you—Do you think I would ever hurt you?"

"No, of course not. I would never think that." Aaron licks his lips and dog-ears the page (Spencer winces at this but doesn't remark on it) and puts the book to the side. "Are you okay?" Aaron was even more tender than usual tonight, and while ultimately it was for Spencer's benefit, he's concerned about its origins. Aaron has made it pretty clear he doesn't want to talk about the conversation earlier, but Spencer wonders how, exactly, a simple question got him so bent out of shape.

"Do you trust me?" Aaron presses.

"Yeah, of course. You licked my anus, like, ten minutes ago. I trust you not to give us E coli , which is the highest of compliments." Spencer tries to restore some levity to the conversation, since it's clear Aaron won't say what's actually bothering him, and Spencer doesn't particularly like to hold these long conversations completely in the dark.

His attempt doesn't assuage Aaron. "And you trust me not to hurt you? Or put my hands on you, ever?"

Spencer rolls over in his arms to look Aaron in the eyes. "Aaron," he says gently, "I trust you never to let any harm come to me, ever. That's why I asked you to do that." Aaron looks stricken. "You could put your hands on my throat, and I would be the safest man on this wide green earth. Do you think I would ever give that to someone else?" Aaron always knows what's best for him, is always gentle, always sensitive to his needs—he doesn't know where this anxiety came from, but it's not founded in the reality of the Aaron he knows. "You don't have to defend yourself. You don't want to do it. End of conversation." Spencer rubs soothing circles on Aaron's chest.

"I don't want you to think I would ever let anything hurt you."

"I don't think that."

"Even me."

"I don't think that, either." Spencer kisses him. "It's okay. I know better than to try to take sex advice from a couple that involves Emily. She's, like, the opposite of you."

Aaron's interest is piqued. "In what way?" Spencer opens his mouth. "No, wait, never mind, I don't—I don't want to know."

That night, Spencer rests easily, but Aaron squeezes him so tightly around the middle that he has to wiggle more than once to breathe, and very late, long after Aaron thinks he has fallen asleep, he feels Aaron cry silently, face buried between Spencer's shoulder blades.

The next evening, Spencer brews some stew on the stove using the very precise instructions Aaron laid out for him. So far, nothing is on fire, nothing has been blackened into coal, and nothing is melting, so Spencer is achieving expectations. The front door unlocks, and he turns to watch Aaron enter, carrying a boat load of groceries. "Hey, soup's brewing."

"It's stew," Aaron corrects as Spencer takes his bags.

"Yeah, whatever. It's not on fire, is my point."

"I've never been so proud," Aaron deadpans. Spencer kisses his cheek and rolls his eyes and goes to help Aaron put things away in the kitchen. "And, um, I got something—something for you." Aaron's cheeks flush unexpectedly, and Spencer raises his eyebrows in great interest as Aaron holds out a bag to him. "I, uh, I talked to Garcia, and she had some… suggestions."

Spencer wants to ask what kind of suggestions, but inside the bag, he finds a headband with pink cat ears, a pink lacy bralette, and a pink collar with a jingly bell and a small tag—the tag engraved: Spencer .

It's mortifying. It's sweet. It's the most adventurous thing Aaron has ever done (granted, the bar was low). Spencer kisses him hard. "Oh, I love it!"

"Oh, good, I thought maybe Garcia was way off base, but after yesterday, I was afraid to talk to JJ, I don't think I can look either of them in the eye ever again—"

"We could add to the tag property of Aaron Hotchner —"

Aaron shoots him a mild-tempered look. "Don't push your luck."

Spencer fidgets with the bell on the collar. "Say, uh, Garcia didn't say anything to you about, uh... cowboys, did she?"

Aaron frowns. "No, she didn't."

"Or horses, or... Assless chaps?"

"No... No. Should she have?"

"Nope!" Spencer says all too quickly. "Nope, she shouldn't have."

[tohermcon]

LINE WITHOUT A HOOK—chapter one

Important: I DO NOT OWN DRACO MALFOY. Draco Malfoy is a character written by J.K Rowling. Also Allison Hale is my OC. I do not agree with JK Rowling on anything yet the characters she wrote and the harry potter books are my favourite. Also this is a crossover between twilight and HP as well so if it isn’t for you; don’t read it. If you did read it HI THANKS FOR READING IT.

Words count: 1477 words

Written from Allison her P.O.V

I didn’t understand what I was doing here. Even when I knew the reason why i was here; the how seemed pretty useless. Given one of the best students was murdered not even two years ago and the thickness of the war coming closer and closer. Everyone had heard it, how the death eaters were recruiting for new members. This had been news; even to my vampire family. Who had no closeness to the wizarding war. Well aside from me then.

I drew my leather bag closer. The letters L.V. Stood in swirly letters on the front of it. It was older than I was. Well I personally guessed it was older than anyone in my school. A sigh left my lips as I checked my bag; hogwarts robes, extra jumper, scarf, chocolate and book. I was loaded. I didn’t bring tea this time, given they’d probably give it to us when we were on the way. As well as pumpkin pasties. I felt a big cold hand on my shoulder. “If you stay taring like this I may take you home. You don’t seem as excited to come back” my grandfather spoke. I let a sigh escape. “That obvious hm?” I asked him as he gave a nod. “Just...tired I guess” luckily Carlisle didn’t have the ability to feel what i felt or he would’ve caught onto my lie. “I will miss you, sunshine” he whispered as I kissed his cheek. “It is Christmas soon enough” i said as he nodded. Wrapping his cold arms around me.

I boarded the train, as i saw the Draco Malfoy slipping into a compartment alone. He looked tired, and lonely. And even when I knew I probably shouldn’t follow him, i did anyway. We had an eight hour drive ahead of us and I could also use a companion. When I notice neither Pansy or Blaise following him I knew it was okay to go into the compartment. Especially given they all filled up quite quickly.

The blonde haired boy looked up. His skin was pale, and the dark purple circles under his eyes became even clearer because of it. He wore a suit—what fucking student wears a suit to school? I looked at him. “Can i sit with you?” He clearly thought about this. Yet he shrugged as he said “fine” and I got onto the couch ahead of him. I never understood why houses were always seated amongst their own houses, when it could be fun to learn the other houses. Or at least get to know them in a way. Yet Draco didn’t truly seem in the mood to socialise. I grabbed the book I had put on top. Placing it on the table. I got myself comfortable in the corner, close to the window.

I opened the book as I started reading a bit, yet wanted to try and socialise at least. And then the most stupid question left my mouth “so do you like quidditch?’ I couldn’t stop the words. “Yes” he said shortly. He had a nice voice. Not that he was in any way nice, but he wasn’t not nice either. He was pretty neutral. But his voice was pleasant to listen to non the less. “Had a good summer?’ Good was an odd word, especially in these times. But he nodded slightly, though it was a clear lie. Even clearer when he said “it was fine”. And then I remembered the headlines; FORMER DEATH EATER LUCIUS MALFOY PUT IN AZAKABAN. And I realised how rude my question had been. I also noticed how he didn’t return the question and that was absolutely fine. I decided to now just return my head to my book. My summer had mainly been a horrible turn, nightmares and a father that couldn’t be close to me because I bled too much. So it hadn’t been exactly good but just like Draco had just said it was ‘fine.’

We drove silently for a bit before the lady stopped with her trolley. “Anything dears?” She asked. Draco declined as I looked at her. “One lavender tea and a pumpkin pasty.” I loved her pasties as I paid her and enjoyed my tea. “Lavender tea? What kind of taste is that?” It sounded genuinely curious, not even mean. I held it towards him so he could smell it. “You can taste it too if you like. They say i helps with calming people down” I explained. He shook his head, making a face at the scent. “Its so floral” he said as I laughed a bit. “Generally, lavender is a flower” I explained. He rolled his eyes. Yet he couldn’t truly argue me. He wasn’t half as bad as everyone made him be. Yet In had only known him from quidditch matches.

The train continued to drive as I took of my scarf i knew the scars in my neck would now be more visible. And they were still fresh, yet I always knew a lie for them. “I got in a bit of a pickle” “it isn’t as bad as it looks” “I fought a lion cool huh.” Even if they were stupid people usually stopped asking. Yet Draco only glanced at them and looked back outside. Pulling down the sleeves of his overly expensive suit coat. “Whats the slytherin common room like?” I asked. Silence sometimes got under my skin and i had never seen the slyterhin common room. “Green” he explained. “The walls are dark green, the curtains. The furniture is a deep dark wood. Most of the books are green” i could imagine it now. And it seemed elegant. Not like people had said it was at all. “There are two big sofa’s” he then said. “And a small space in the windows.” “The hufflepuff common room is mainly white, with yellow accents. It also has loads of plants.” I explained. It was extremely light always in our common room. “Our furniture is a light wood or yellow.” I explained. It was lucky I liked the colour yellow, given I spent most time in it.

The train stopped faster then I had wanted it to stop. I usually spend eight hours being bored and now I had barely even been bored. It felt sad to have to leave Draco here. I didn’t want to just go back to being strangers; though we weren’t much more now.”walk with me to school” I asked. Grabbing my bag as he shrugged. “Why not?” He said as I almost saw a glimpse of a smile.

The air was cold, even for the month september. Though not half as cold as I had anticipated. We first walked to teachers as i got a glare yet still went “Allison Hale”. Draco too said his name. We then were send on our merry way. I looked around as I then focused on him. “Whats your favourite snack?” I asked curiously. I knew if I would find out what he liked that I would probably take it with me on my next hogsmaede trip. He looked at me “does it have to be sweet? Or can it be savoury to?” “It can be savoury too”m “then pretzels. But I also like caramel apples” he explained to me. I then gave a smile. It somehow fit him. “And drinks?” “Water and coffee. I hate pumpkin juice though” he explained as I got that, I too really disliked pumpkin juice. “Pumpkin juice is...gross” I agreed. He chuckled a bit now. And I loved that noise. I didn’t understand why it just seemed so rare.

The woods were drawing closer and i got more uncomfortable. Especially due to the way the war was undoubtedly coming closer. And because of my promise to Dumbledore. The snatchers were the most notorious werewolves that worked amongst the death eaters— not exactly for them. And I had promised to the watch them. Not fight them, but just keep an eye out. I knew this task was big but it didn’t bring me much fear, even when amongst them were my parents murderers. I felt a shiver run down my spine as that snapped me back to reality. Immediately a pair of silver grey eyes focused on my own. “Are you cold?” I saw Draco said the words before he could even realise it. And even think of it.

Before I could refuse the offer he draped his jacket over my shoulders. The smell of sandalwood was almost as overwhelming as the smell of -undoubtedly expensive- cologne. I thought that the jacket too probably cost as much as most of my trunk. It comfort me; which surprised me. The smells were familiar and i couldn’t remember why. As we paced to Hogwarts, the dread of having to say goodbye drew closer.

[dreamsafterhours]

college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: III (donghyuk's pathway)

a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class

markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?

genre: fluff pairings: mark+my/n (fem), donghyuk+dy/n (fem), platonic!mark+dy/n, platonic!donghyuk+my/n format: dotpoint AU universe: non idol, college bf warning: some swearing

masterlist

or click here to meet your soulmate, eng lit!mark!

II ⇤ | III | ⇥ IV

III: 별빛이 내린다 샤라랄라랄라라 (2+2=4)

the meeting of two souls: donghyuk & dy/n

welcome! back and to the next part

in which things actually happen! yay

so. up until this point

it’s been quite obvious i hope

that this is the one where The Soulmates Meet™

and this one right here is the one where donghyuk meets his future wifenew best (not) friend

dammit this is a set plot with SET relationships

yeah

major spoilers for future parts but hey :) y’all know it i know it let’s just.

let’s get to it!!

that day you accidentally sleep in after a late night and walk into your lecture looking pretty trashier than you would normally a few weeks into the first sem and you’re already tired it’s okay bby aww

and mark suggests skipping the next lecture and going for coffee instead

you’re like ok lmfao free coffee for me yay thanks marcus i owe you one

and to make up for the lecture he suggests he join you and your roommate with his own roommate in the library later that day to study the material you’d missed out on

so you’re like sweet study group hell yeah and apparently his roommate is also in biomed like your roommate? hey they might get along pretty well it’d be nice to have roommates in the same faculty hey

little do you know you little cutie you uwu

mark takes you to a cafe to buy you your favourite drink and a croissant bc you skipped breakfast again and he cares about his friends ok plus he was eyeing that donut next to the savoury menu in the glass cabinet and he would have felt bad if he got something to eat and you didn’t

you sit down, sipping your drink at the window seats and wishing your fatigue away

laughing with mark about what you slept so late for

my/n had been ranting about her love life again or perhaps lack thereof,,

don’t worry tho

after you’d gotten her to sleep, you’d gotten major feels for an essay question that you’d been tasked with due in a week but you hadn’t touched it until last night

staring at the prompt for at least half an hour trying to get your head around it and wondering what the hell you’d write about

but like they say

starting is half of it

so when you start spinning your words and getting into the writing mood

you accidentally wrote an entire draft without realising

albeit being full of loose ends and points you need to refine, etc., it was a decent body of work that you’d tackle for a few more nights before turning in

a skeleton, you’d called it

“a skeleton?”

“yeah. next thing i need to do is.. flesh it out”

“.. literally”

cue mark’s small pause

/inhale/

/MANIACAL LAUGHTER/

you know how mark’s laugh is very how do i put this into words hm dictated

you can HEAR each HA and they’re separate syllables yet sometimes they can vary in tone and length right it’s usually the more consistent HAs before he kinda loses it and starts throwing himself around

it was that laugh

honestly man finds everything funny his laughing threshold seems so low

and no matter how unfunny you are he WILL laugh at anything you say

and you’ve been doing it a lot lately

you could say literally any random thing and he’d already be ready to laugh (see Figure 1.1)

Figure 1.1

you: /snort/

mark, already giggling: “what”

you, still sniggering: /touches his elbow/ “arm knee”

mark: /inhale/ gotta live and breathe that oxygen

mark: HAHAHAHAhahAhaHAHAhahAhHa (decrescendo.. cRESCENDO)

^ that but looped, with intermittent slaps to your arm

anyways you never fail to make him fall out of his chair in laughter

but enough of that. dy/n is donghyuk’s y/n for a REASON ahEM

so after you finish up your breakfast at the cafe you go back to your dorm to take a power nap and recharge before your library session you were going to stay awake but mark forces you to take a nap and you’re like bro you just fed me caffeine now you want me to sleep??

then he tells you he ordered your drink decaf

you turn to him real slow

“.. you sick traitor. how dare you besmirch my name so. you scorn my forefathers and our dependence on the holy bean’s juices. betrayal runs rampant in your soul and mine stands at the mercy of your choices, them informed by the devil himself”

mark: /shrug/ “placebo effect yeet. hey, it worked for a bit. now you should really go home and get your sleep”

and he drags you back to your dorm and waves you off before going to his next class

you’re lowkey grateful for it tho when you take a shower and collapse onto your bed, falling asleep in what you think could be half the time you usually take

dreaming about losing your airpods and mark yelling at you to be more careful and then you two fighting bc you’d just lost your $300 bean sprouts but you could have sworn he took them

then police sirens went off out of nowhere and both of you were being arrested for assault and thievery

why you were the one being arrested, you had no idea but it’s a dream nothing follows the guidelines of hard reality anyway

just as you’re about to be handcuffed, you think to yourself, nope. i have a library session to attend. ain’t nobody got time for this shit

and you just

wake up

but the sirens are still continuing?? so you’re like ? is my building surrounded

they’ve come for me

even though you haven’t exactly broken any laws or have you

and you realise it was the alarm you’d set in time to get ready for your library session

so you grab your stuff and leave for the library, double checking with your roommate over text to make sure she was on her way

her lab class was taking longer than usual so she tells you she’ll be 10 or so minutes late

so you tell her you’ll be saving a seat for her and call mark to let him know you’re on your way to the library

“oh i’m already here lol. alright, i’m waiting for you outside”

and sure enough, you see him leaning on the wall of the entrance, eyes on his phone

you consider calling out to him but before you actually do, he glances up and spots you walking over tf do you have psychic spatial awareness mark

smiles and takes his corded earphones out

“you seriously need to upgrade those”

“they work fine”

“nop i’m getting you airpods for your birthday”

“dUdE thEy’RE tOo ExPEnSiVe. nO dUDE NoO”

“nOP. i’m GOING to buy you EXPENSIVE BEAN SPROUTS for your LIFE DEBUT ANNIVERSARY and you CAN’T STOP ME”

at this point i should just put /MANIACAL LAUGHTER/ and you should know what laugh i’m referring to

/MARK LEE’S MANIACAL LAUGHTER/

/MLML/ for short

nvm it’s fine it’s kinda fun to type /MANIACAL LAUGHTER/

literally mark laughs in bolded italics i’m just sad i can’t underline it on tumblr unless it’s a link lmfao

n e ways

i digress

you shush him because you’re about to walk into the library

“qUIET DOWN marcus” turn that sh down for quiet new dawn

the library is almost full for the day but after a minute or two scouring the building you find an empty four seater in the middle of nowhere it’s CRAZY you can NEVER find a MIRACLE like this life couldn’t get better

i’m sorry

you speed walk to claim it even though there was no one else in your vicinity to threaten your territory

mark laughs at you trying to get to the table as fast as you could without all out running

getting out your things, you send a photo of your seat to your roommate and tell mark to send it to his roommate as well so they know where to find you

you start watching the lecture online while taking notes and since you’re not in the lecture theatre you can talk more audibly with mark not that you don’t talk in the actual lecture too,,

maybe you do text a lot,,, during class

mark usually says things like “.. implications of what now?? interpretation of huh?” to which you reply “i want cheese when i get home”

and he has to stifle his laughter while you keep your straight face and continue writing your notes he admires this ability ngl

and so while you’re watching it on your computer

you can say things like “fuck. i want pickles”

and mark will /throw himself back/ and cackle and probably say some shit like “DIDN’T YOU HATE PICKLES??” between his giggles

and you’re like “yeah. fuck pickles but like. fuck. pickles”

he almost falls off his chair at this point

but when he balances himself again he spots someone down the corridor and wave them over

“oii! over here dude”

you turn to glance at them to expect his roommate, but you see your own roommate talking to someone and wave her over as well

“heYY my/n”

you see the other person turn to your roommate and tell her something, , then she says something back

which is apparently shocking to them, because he glances over at mark and then at you

and then he looks again when your roommate points straight at you

to which you’re like ?? hi? y u look me

and then they both start laughing

you wonder if they were laughing at you or smth until mark’s like “tf is that idiot doing”

and u look at him like ? what idiot

“that idiot. the idiot roommate i told u about. the one who called u a homewrecker”

and you’re like

wait

[info clog]

wait

[error]

“wait”

“what”

“that’s your roommate?” u point at the boy next to my/n, who r both still laughing at something going all “wOW r u KIDDING” he has a loud voice

and mark’s like “? yeah”

and you go

“.. the girl next to him is my roommate”

mark: “wait what”

that’s what she said

at that point they’ve made their way over to the table, still trying to hold in their laughter

you start to introduce your roommate to mark, who’s still confused by the situation

you: “mark, this is my/n, my/n this is mark”

my/n: “nice to see you again mark”

you: “wait. again?”

mark: “yeah we’ve met. hi my/n”

you: “what”

mark: “yeah”

my/n: “yeah”

his roommate: “yeah”

you:

you: “i feeling like i’m missing something here”

turns out

surprise surprise

that one friend that my/n had made in her biology class was mark’s roommate oh my god they were roommates

whose name, you are told, is lee donghyuk

magical moment

us watching: heh 🤤

u can’t help but do a lil body scan from head to toe bc he a fine piece of cake we all know that

honey skin, oversized white t shirt, black pants, sneakers and lighter brown hair that looks fluffy the type of fluffy that makes u wanna touch it

yes he’s good looking. yes

yaaaaas

then mark tells him your name

“she’s the one i said reminded me of you”

“r u talking abt me behind my back marcus??”

donghyuk laughs and holds out a hand for you to shake

“what kinda coincidence is this?? i adopt your roommate, you’re dealing with mine”

“oh you’re gonna have to get in line to adopt her, i’m her legal guardian, sorry donghyuk”

to which he goes

“lmfao then we’ll both be her parents”

“k but i’ll keep her on the weekends. you see her on the weekdays”

then he wipes his smile off his face and he’s like “who said we’re split”

mark and my/n are doing the /MANIACAL LAUGHTER/ at this point

mark: “so ,, seriously what are the chances”

you: “this quartet,, it’s fate guys it’s fate there’s no way about it”

yes it is. yes. it is

even that four seater table was free because of fate

donghyuk: “this calls for drinks later. we all free? no 9am classes tmr?”

my/n: “we have a physics prac at 8:30 dingus”

donghyuk: “ah shit”

you barely got any notes for that lecture for at least an hour because you end up talking altogether throughout the session but once you remember you’re in a library to study you request a ceasefire and agree to study for a bit which,, you gotta admit ,, isn’t really productive because you’re so excited to meet someone new

but the best part about the day was when you notice how many times mark is glancing at your roommate while she’s reviewing her notes, completely oblivious

donghyuk complains that he’s hungry after another hour or two and you suggest you all have dinner together

donghyuk leans back in his chair in a stretch, his jumper lifting up a little over his jeans and showing a bit of his belly “ah i’m craving chinese”

you perk up, “mE TOO”

so you all go to your favourite chinese place just outside campus where you find out that mark and my/n have the same taste and so do you and donghyuk

he points and u and goes “oH?”

“jjAMPPONG? U TOO?”

“the ONLY DISH EVER”

mark and my/n: jjajang is fine : )

you and donghyuk: “JJAMPPONG IS SUPERIOR”

give him a bro five with the shoulder bump and everything

the boys walk you and my/n back to your dorm afterwards

donghyuk and my/n end up walking in a pair and mark walks alongside you

mark mentions how it’d be fun if you made a group chat together

you: “do it”

“i don’t have your roommate’s number tho”

you’re smiling wickedly at his reaction “?? ASK HER FOR IT”

“dude what?? no u make one and i’ll add donghyuk to it”

“bRO JUST ASK”

“wHAT NO U DO IT THEN”

so u go

bet

and you call out the two biomed kids walking in front of you

“hey donghyuk! give me your number i’ll make a group chat”

“sure lol” and you open up a new contact to let him type his number into your phone

he saves his name as hot boi hyuk ✌🏻

which you just leave bc you’re busy making the group chat

mark is still astounded that you asked donghyuk for his number so easily

you: hi hello good day

my/n 🌸: yeetus meetus

hot boi hyuk ✌🏻: bow before me

you: here before me lie the beginnings of a new era

you: one born from blood and stone

my/n 🌸: tf is she saying

hot boi hyuk ✌🏻: idk but lets go with it

you: together we rise from the rubble and sort through the debris

hot boi hyuk ✌🏻: yas queen

my/n 🌸: i hate this gc already

you: and we WILL REBUILD THIS EMPIRE

read by marcus the fool 🤡 at 8:21 pm

safe to say you stay up for a good while talking on that group chat while mark just sits idle,,

you honestly don’t know if he’s consciously reading or not maybe he just left his phone on the chat

and thus our quartet is complete,,

and they all lived

happily ever after

but this isn’t the ending tho is it

wink wonk /waggles eyebrows/

this is but the epilogue to the prologue

that doesn’t make sense but n e ways

our quartet has not yet become two pairings

y’all just don’t know what the future has in store for you :)

click here to meet your soulmate, eng lit!mark!

II ⇤ | III | ⇥ IV

taglist: @lavellanfriendliness​ 

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future parts!

[5lazarus]

Winter in Amaranthine, Ch. 4: Oghren

Summary: The Wardens' companions decide to leave, and Warden-Commander Arana Mahariel cannot find a reason good enough to tell them no. Meanwhile, letters between the Warden and Leliana get lost in translation, and Arana makes it worse. Chapter 4, Oghren: Oghren sobers the Warden up.

Read on AO3 here. On Tumblr, read here for Justice & Anders, here for Velanna & Sigrun, and here for Nathaniel Howe.

She stays in her office all night drinking. Arana sits at her desk and sips slowly at her tumbler, enjoying the warp of the fire in the high-priced Serault glass. She is perhaps the only Dalish elf to ever have the privilege to drink from glassware normally preserved for the Divine and Her Holiness’ followers. They had been sent to the Divine as a bribe from the notoriously eccentric Marquis de Serault and waylaid by Leliana. Remembering that, Arana’s hand tightens around the glass and she contemplates smashing it, as she has smashed most of the relationships in her life. But she is the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and the Arlessa of Amaranthine, and it looks bad enough that she is drunk--she does not want to imagine what the servants would say, if they had to clean up glass worth several years of their salary. Instead of breaking it, she tops up her glass. She wakes up to the cool seabreeze whistling outside of her open office window, gulls crying out for bread. Blearily she pulls her head off her desk, cheek sticking slightly to the surface. Her head is heavy but the hangover has not begun to ring through her yet. Arana wrinkles her nose: coffee in a silver pot, embossed with the Warden crest, steams before her, with an equally beautiful silver cup. “Drink up,” Oghren says. “You’re gonna need it.”

She fixes him with a red-eyed stare. Did she cry last night? She should have, if she didn’t. “Food?” she asks. They have done this before, the two of them, after they killed Branka, after Alistair left, and then Leliana. Oghren grunts. “Enough to tide you over,” he says. “Servant’ll be bringing it up, not me.” Ashara snorts. “Distinctions of rank must be preserved,” she says drily. “You want a cup? I imagine you brought your own.”  A servant knocks on the door and brings in a hefty rasher of bacon, thickly-sliced, and three eggs fried in the grease, along with a shot glass of a mysterious green liquid. Ashara raises an eyebrow at Oghren. “Pickle juice,” Oghren grunts. “Works every time. Now get eating, we have to get to the city by noon.” “You don’t give me orders, Warden,” Ashara says, and laughs when Oghren rolls his eyes. “Fine. Enjoy your hangover. I’ll take the bacon.” Oghren feints towards the food, and Ashara waves him off. She eats, feeling her flesh gradually restore around her bones, and takes that shot of pickle juice. It is all surprisingly good. “No hair of the dog?” she says. “That’s a road you don’t want to go down,” Oghren says. “Trust me. Been trying to walk back up it for three months.” He grins at her. “Three months sober today. Sister Nightingale sent me a pretty little amulet to wear. Silver. Supposed to ward off poison.” He laughs. “‘Nuff poison I’ve thrown into myself. And out.” “You’ve been corresponding,” Arana says flatly. She sips her coffee. Leliana has been corresponding personally with Oghren, but has not bothered to send her a letter in months. She is furious--how can she find Oghren more pleasant to talk to than her? Did her letter anger her that much? She could have at least written her back, rather than turning her quill towards other people--to Oghren, of all people. Arana tolerates Oghren, and sometimes she even likes him--she has grown to respect him, after he joined the Wardens and apologized to Felsi, and she knows sobriety is not easy. Still, out of everyone left at Vigil’s Keep, one would think she rates higher than that fool. But Leliana has always liked a good redemption story, especially if she can prompt it. Arana scowls again. Oghren snorts at the look on her face. “Aye,” hen said. “And that’s why I’m taking you on a walk.” “Is this an intervention? I’m not a drunk, Oghren. Not like you--were.” “Andraste’s tits,” he says. “You’re not a drunk like me, no, and you haven’t puked away all your opportunities and shat on all your loved ones--” “You shat on Felsi?” Arana interrupts. Arana occasionally finds Oghren’s stories reassuring: it is always nice to know that someone has fucked up more than she ever can. Oghren pauses. “No!” He considers it. “Maybe. Her doorstep, more like it.” “And she answers your letters.” Arana leans back in her chairs and downs her coffee. Leliana doesn’t answer her letters, and Arana has never even drooled on her, let alone shat on her doorstep. “Sweet Sylaise, that woman has the patience of a Keeper.” Oghren snorts. “She doesn’t answer my letters, but she certainly cashes the notes I send her. You good? You drank your coffee? You gonna eat that? Let’s go.” They leave the keep quietly. The keep is bustling as usual, with the trainers and the recruits and the cooks and the cleaners running about. Arana catches sight of Ser Pounce watching from a young tree she planted, that passes as a Vhenadahl, and she stops a second. Ser Pounce cocks his head at her and mews. He looks very well-fed. “He hasn’t been hunting the Blighted rats, has she?” she asks anxiously. “I do not want Anders to hear we poisoned his cat.” Oghren says, “Ser Pounce took out a hurlock alpha. Think he’s immune to the Blight at this point, Commander.” Ser Pounce lets out a meow, and disappears into the leaves. Arana hopes he has not been pissing on the tree. They move off the main road to avoid listeners, and because Arana deeply craves the woods, the feel of the living earth under her soles, and the whisper of the lost that press against the almost sheer Veil, trying to get their stories heard. They trudge along in silence for the first hour. Oghren hums to himself. He is not a particularly good singer, Arana well knows, but she enjoys having company. They meander, and Arana loses herself in the cool gray copse that acts as a natural barrier between Vigil’s Keep and anyone avoiding the King’s Road. When they are far  from Vigil’s Keep but still an hour  from Amaranthine City, Oghren finally speaks up. “You been getting a lot of mail lately.” “Yes,” Arana says. “I have certainly been filing my dispatches.” Oghren looks at her sideways. “Dispatches,” Oghren says. “From ol’ King Alistair, from that warden from Clan Lavellan, maybe even one or two from Tabris. But nothing from Surana, or Brosca, or Zevran, or Leliana even. Except that one, right? From the batch that came in before Anders left.” “Are you reading my mail?” Arana says, annoyed. Her hand reaches for her sword handle. “Fen’Harel take you, dwarf, those letters contain sensitive information, and you are enough of a drunk--” Oghren raises both hands. “Three months sober,” he emphasizes. “Since Anders left. Ser. Though I guess I’ll always be a drunk, I’ll be a dry drunk for sure. And no--I file your mail. Quartermaster told me to make myself useful, and it keeps me from going to the tavern for lunch.” Arana deflates. She crosses her arms instead, and looks up at the bald trees reaching for the gray sky. It does not snow in Amaranthine, even in winter. She hopes it does not rain. Oghren continues, “Struck me as weird, it did. That you’d only get official business, but Tabris was writing Velanna and Nathaniel, Leliana was checking in with me every two weeks, Alistair even sent me some cheese. ‘Twas moldy to be sure, but I think he did that on purpose.” “Some Orlesian cheeses are supposed to be moldy,” Arana says, amused despite herself. “Leliana told me.” Oghren shot her a look. “Didn’t it strike you as weird that Leliana was writing me but not you? And I didn’t want to intrude on whatever your lover’s spat was, I know how you get.” Arana opened her mouth to protest, but Oghren barreled on, “So I did some investigating. And guess what I found out?  The courier who takes letters from the crossroads, and sends them up the coast? Well, her husband’s got an Orlesian last name, and his cousin works in the Divine’s scriptorium.” His moustache twitches as he beams up at her triumphantly. “The Divine’s been stealing your mail, lass. She’s trying to fuck you and Leliana up.” He spreads his arms out, as if he is expecting applause. “You took me out here to tell me this?” Arana says incredulously. “You couldn’t have told me this in front of my fire?” As she says that, she feels a cold drop hit her forehead. She wipes it away, crestfallen. It begins to rain. She glares down at him. Oghren says cheerfully, “Better get to Amaranthine quick. Time to sprint!” They reach the city gates, mudsplattered, soaked, and sour. Arana bitches the whole way back onto the King’s Road and through the gates. It is the most she has spoken since Velanna left, and her throat gets sore. “And now!” she exclaims, as Oghren shepherds her towards a relatively nice inn near the alienage, “now my throat hurts! I will get a cold, and I will be bedridden, and someone else will need to find a polite way to tell the Chantry they have no right to censor us for recruiting whomever wanted to flee Kinloch Hold, while simultaneously keeping them from scrutinizing too heavily whatever Blighted nugshit Weisshaupt is up to--you know Morrigan has been sighted in Serault, bearing a writ from the Divine? And somehow it’s my fault.” She has not spoken this much, or so openly, since Surana last visited, and though she knows it is perhaps unwise to confide this all in Oghren of all people, she cannot stop the torrent of words. “And, and, I need to apologize to my clan, and--” In the corner of the steaming inn, a woman sits, tuning a lute. Arana stops dead. Leliana looks up and smiles. “My love,” she says. “My heart.”

[dylansfm]

       〔 ZOEY DEUTCH, 22, CISFEMALE, ODIKINESIS 〕╰  _DYLAN O’SHEA _ just  came  over  half - blood  hill .  you  know ,  the  child  of  ARES  who  was  claimed  3 years ago ?  i've  heard  chiron  say  that  pronoun  is  COURAGEOUS & INDEPENDENT ,  but  if  you  ask  the  aphrodite  kids ,  they'd  say  they're  COMBATIVE & SPITEFUL .  i'd  say  they  remind  me  of drinking whiskey, broken glass, the glow of a flame, bruised knees, split lips & basking in the feeling of victory, especially  since  they're  AGAINST THE NEW CABINS.  (  ✎  tobi ,  20 ,  she/her ,  mst .  )

hello everyone ! i’m tobi, 20 years old, and this intro post is really late but here it is ! i haven’t rp’ed in forever so i’m probably going to be a bit rusty, but i’m excited. you can find some quick wanted connections at the bottom of this. i’ll reblog some wc gifsets and try to write up a proper post later. if you want to plot, like this post and i’ll message you, or you can get me on discord logan lerman's side bitch#7115 !

name:     dylan alexandra o’shea  

nicknames:    her mom calls her dyl pickle, call her that if you dare

birth date:    january 2nd   

gender:    cis female

pronouns:    she/her

ethnicity:    kinda obvious i think

nationality:    american

hometown:    memphis, tennessee 

demigod abilities:    odikinesis –– the ability to arouse feelings of anger, hatred and bloodlust in others

cabin number & godly parent: cabin five, ares

edie o’shea is your average southern belle. little rich girl, ex-beauty queen, ex-cheerleader, known around the neighbourhood for her beauty and being the definition of southern hospitality. but when she was 18, she went through her rebellious, punk, 90s grunge phase ( or at least, as grungy as you can get in the deep south ). and it was during this phase that she had her fateful encounter with ares. they met at a bar –– or was it a club ? concert ? she can’t even remember anymore –– and he introduced himself, didn’t even bother to hide his name. edie assumed it was a nickname or a joke. 

they had a brief, intense, torrid love affair for a few months before edie became pregnant. ares gave a quick explanation of his situation ( edie was so infuriated nothing he said even registered ) and he split, leaving edie with dylan as a goodbye gift. edie quickly went back home, got back into her parents’ good graces, and tried to forget ares and get her life back together for her little girl. 

dylan’s grandparents are similar to emily and richard gilmore from gilmore girls –– they’re snobby, controlling, and a bit too invested in their granddaughter’s raising. dylan loves them both, but her complete lack of care towards social status and reputation is a constant battle. 

dylan o’shea is very much the opposite of your average southern belle. seemed to have inherited both her mother and father’s wild ways, going against all of her mother’s attempts to tame her. she’s aggressive, coarse, and tactless. she’s attended and been expelled from damn near every school in the city, gotten into more fights than she can count, been arrested enough times that she knows quite a few officers by name. she’s been uncontrollable from day one, a hurricane that constantly leaves destruction in her wake.

her mother never intended to send dylan to camp half blood, she thought dylan was bound to get herself killed if she was left by herself. but dylan’s demigod ability, odikinesis, began to manifest when she turned 14. she had always had a penchant for getting into trouble, but it seemed like she was constantly being provoked into fights. her family never believed her when she said that she wasn’t doing anything, that people always came at her. they figured it was her nature, per the course as a child of the god of war.

the day things went to utter shit –– she doesn’t remember much of what happened now. it was over something stupid, a guy saying a stupid, shitty comment that shouldn’t have made her as angry as it did. next thing she remembers she’s face down on the ground, held down by 3 police officers and thrashing around like a wild animal. she’s told she beat him near to death ( or maybe –– ? she never asked, never really wanted to know ) and she lands in juvie. it was run down, under supervised and overcrowded, and her powers only grew stronger with time. a year of fighting ( both inmates and guards ), getting sent to isolation, and doing it over and over again finally broke her. abruptly, the fights stopped, and like a switch, instead of constant anger, she felt nothing at all.

her mother saw her state and knew both that something was wrong, and that she wasn’t the one who would be able to fix it. for the first time, she swallowed her pride and prayed to ares to guidance, help, anything. dylan was released soon after, something about early release for good behaviour ( ha ! ) and she immediately goes on the long drive to camp half blood. only when they get there does she learn that she was being haunted by a ker ( female spirits who personify violent death ), which was drawn to her ability and underlying power. she arrived at chb when she was 15, and has been there ever since.

some quick facts about dylan !

she has a thick southern accent and possibly the smoothest voice you’ve ever heard –– expect more than a few y’all’s here and there, though i’ll try not to be too obnoxious

she likes using nicknames –– lamb, pumpkin, june bug, the works –– just to be condescending

she’s quick to insult and even quicker to anger, but not necessarily unfriendly. she genuinely doesn’t mean any harm –– most of the time

she has a awful temper. as in, had-to-take-anger-management-classes awful. it genuinely takes a toll on her and she constantly struggles to keep her rage in check. she’s had enough years of learning that on a good day, she’s fine. on a bad day –– whew.

her inspirations incl: jessica jones ( jessica jones ), katarina stratford ( 10 things i hate about you ), reyna avila ramirez-arellano ( the heroes of olympus ), clarisse la rue ( percy jackson & the olympians )

despite how she comes across at first ( idiot jock ) she’s generally very intelligent. she especially likes history

she’s very flighty, her mind never stays on one thing and she’s constantly doing, forgetting about that, starting that, dropping that and –– you get the point. talking to her can be a bit daunting because she’s constantly changing the subject on you

the only time she’s really focused is when she mid-battle, on a quest, or thinking about strategy ( she’s a bit of a stereotype, she already knows )

from her time in juvie she’s learned quite a few –– skills. how to pick a lock and how to sneak contraband being the most relevant ( less relevant: how to turn a battery into a lighter & make booze using just bread, sugar, and fruit juice ). she’s managed to get some contacts whenever she’s permitted to leave camp for a quest, so she always has a decent supply ( weed only, she used to run with bad crowds, seen the damage the other stuff can do )

after her experience with the ker, she’s has a genuinely, almost debilitating fear of spirits and hauntings specifically. it’s a trait about herself that pisses her off to no end, and she’d die before letting anyone find out about it. 

& now for the ·。ﾟ𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 ! as i said above, i’ll write a proper post when i’m a little less tired

platonic

rivals –– friend version ! dylan is quite possibly the most competitive person on earth, it’s in her genetics. she thinks of everything as a competition and she always has to win. however, a victory is only sweet when it’s against a true adversary. she spends a lot of time with this person and she’s convinced herself that it’s so that she can eventually prove she’s their superior, but she actually just likes being around them.

           ( bonus points –– sparring partners no rules sorta deal, out in the woods, scratches                from twigs, bloodied rocks, anything to let some of her aggression out )

opposites attract –– this person is different from her in almost every way ( grumpy, combative, wild vs friendly, sweet, caring, etc ) and by all accounts should provoke her ire and contempt. yet somehow, she instead genuinely care about this person and their wellbeing ( and it makes her sick to her stomach ).

romantic

crush –– oh it’s just so pathetic. dylan prides herself on being untouchable, with a dark black hole where her heart should be. however, this person is a very unwanted reminder that she is, in fact, a real person with emotions and feels and ugh. she’s carried a torch for this person from the day she met them, and she’s been unable to rid herself of these feelings despite her best attempts. this person definitely doesn’t know ( she tries to convince herself of this ) and she plans to ignore the nervousness, unconscious smiles and, ugh, butterflies until the day she –– dies, i guess.

antagonistic

rivals –– enemy version ! dylan is probably the most competitive person on earth, which also makes her one of the sorest losers you’ll ever meet. she hates losing, and she finds it difficult to keep that sentiment to herself. for whatever reason dylan doesn’t respect this person, and therefore can’t handle losing to them as graciously as she might otherwise. despite her temper she’s usually not the type to hold a grudge ( more the fight and forgive type ) but her hatred of this person is a giant mental block.

[duketheman]

Generation 4 Part 6

We go to the Dining room & are seated. Menu consists of: Stuffed lamb breast with lemon, ricotta, & oregano variety of cheese, Selection of Bread & Cracker, Jams, chutneys, spicy mustards, caramelized onions, candied nuts & pistachios, Rich flourless chocolate cake with a glass of sweet port wine, Small pieces of chocolate & Brandy. Father says Prayers: My God in Heaven. Please Bless this meal & Bless our Family with Your Grace. We thank You my God for all that you've provided & for the Miracle of those two tiny new lives that You so Graciously Blessed us with. Thank You my God, in the Name of our Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen! 8:30pm we finish dinner & retire to the Drawing room for Coffee & Brandy! Sodas for the kids & Juice for Mary & Lucy. The Doctor recommended that Lucy attempt to Breastfeed again, so she too has decided to refrain from alcohol! The room is filled with Christmas Music! Mother says: ~Family, it's time to realize "The Reason for the Season"! We have a lot to be grateful for! It's time we start acting like it~ She begins to sing along with the music! We too begin to sing & the mood in the room becomes festive! We've hired a nurse to help with the babies, as to give a little bit of a break to our wives. Mary has pumped extra Breast Milk into bottles. Lucy has Formula for Anabel until she takes hold! It's now 12:45am & we've been enjoying ourselves so much, that we didn't realize how late it is! We decide to call it a night & go to our rooms. Mother was right! Tis the Season for Joy! God Bless us everyone!

I pick up my son & hold him, & pray a prayer of thanks to God! I turn to Mary, who's ready to feed him before we sleep & say: ~Darling, thank you for being the best wife a man could ever be Blessed with! I love you Mary Grace Newport!

She replies: ~'O my sweet Harry, no woman could ever hope to be Blessed with a husband as loving, generous, thoughtful & sweet a man as you! My love, you have never disappointed me in anything you've ever done. Now we're Blessed with another child. I feel my life is only getting better. You Harry, are my life!~ She has always made my every day & night! I thank God for allowing her into my life! She feeds little Harry, burps & changes him. Places him in his Bassinet, careful to lay him on his back. He falls asleep immediately. Such a good baby! We climb into bed & she falls asleep in my arms. I'm tired, Goodnight!

Skipping forward:

Sunday December 22 Little Harry's & Anabel's Christening

8:00am & the whole Family is enroute to Church. Today we'll be dedicating little Harry & Anabel to Christianity. It's 8:45am & we arrive. We enter the Church & the Family are seated. Mary, Myself, Lucy, George & both Babies are escorted to the front of the Church where when called, we'll bring the Babies forward! 9:00am service begins. After the Choir sings the opening hymns, Pastor Reverend Johnson calls the names of "Harold Joseph Newport Jr." & Annabel Josephine Richards" to the Altar. Mary holds little Harry in her arms & I stand by her side. The Pastor Asks: ~Who will be the Godparents?~ George & Lucy Step forward! Pastor Johnson recites: ~Harold Joseph Newport Jr., In the Name of the Father & of the Son & of the Holy Spirit! He then pours water over his forehead three times. He wipes dry little Harry's forehead.

Pastor Johnson says: ~Who will be the Godparents?~ Mary & myself step forward! Pastor Johnson recites: ~Annabel Josephine Richards, In the Name of the Father & of the Son & of the Holy Spirit! He pours water over her forehead three times. He wipes dry Annabel's forehead & Congratulates us! He invites the Congregation to take photographs! We're seated & service It's 10:30am & service is over. We're enroute back to Newport Mansion. 10:45am, we're arrive at the Mansion. We take the babies upstairs. The Family retire to their rooms to get ready for lunch. It's 12:00pm & Huntington rings: ~Lunch is being served in the Dining room!~ We go into the Dining room & are seated. Linguini, White Winter Truffles, Aged Parmesan is on the menu! The meal is delicious. 1:15pm we finish lunch & retire to the Drawing room for drinks & conversation! 2:15pm My wife & I are having a Date night. We're going to dinner & a movie! She wants to see "Jumanji, The Next Level". Showtime is 8:15pm at the Woodard. We go upstairs where she will feed little Harry. We'll nap a little before leaving!

It's 5:00pm & we're enroute to Grumpy's Diner on Main! There are no Fancy restaurants in Madison, but we do enjoy a good Burger & Grumpy's has great Burgers! We've arrived at the Diner at 5:45pm. We're seated & read the menu. I order the Steak & Tarter Special Combo with Lemonade. Mary orders the Burger Bowl Combo with Sprite. We finish eating & leave a tip. It's 7:40pm & we're enroute to the Woodard so we can get a good seat. It's 8:00pm & we park, buy the tickets & enter the Cinema. We're seated in the fourth row from the front. The previews are already showing, so I take time to by Popcorn, BomBoms & Soda! 8:15pm the move starts running. 10:20pm, the movie has ended. It was a great movie, starring Dwayne Johnson, Kevin Hart, & Karen Guillan. It was funny, exciting, mind boggling, test of skills & scary all in one game! We both enjoyed it! 10:30pm we're walking out the doors & getting in the car. Enroute to The Waffle House on Bandit st for Coffee. 10:45pm we pull into the Parking lot & enter the restaurant. We wait to be seated just a few minutes. We order coffee, decaf for Mary! We tip the Waitress & leave the restaurant, its Midnight. Were enroute to Newport Mansion. It's 12:30am & we've arrived at the Mansion. We go upstairs & get ready for bed. Mary has that look in her eyes. She winks & smiles, holding the covers up for me. I know what that means & I'm eager. It's been a while & long enough. Goodnight!

Tuesday, December 24

It's 8:00am & Huntington rings: ~Breakfast is being served in the Dining room!~ We go into the Dining room & are seated! Menu for the Morning consists of: Waffles with flax & almond butter, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, a fruit salad & protein shake, juice, coffee! 9:30am, we finish eating & retire to the Drawing room to discuss tonight's festivities! Mother has planned a Christmas party for friends & family! The party will be in the Grand Ballroom! She's been known to have the most entertaining parties in two hundred miles of Madison.

Christmas Eve

It's 5:00pm, I'm putting on my Tux, while Mary nurses little Harry! I can't help but to think about those we've lost! But I know God has a plan for all of us. JR has another week before we've got to get him back to the Academy. We're lucky to be able to have him for the Holidays & his Birthday! He'll be sixteen on New Year's eve. My God, where's the time gone! It seems like yesterday I was holding him in my arms. Tomorrow morning is Christmas & the anniversary of the first day I met Mary, the day I began to live again!

It's 6:00pm & we're in the Drawing room discussing the music for tonight, Mother of course has the last say!

We're expecting Governor Ron DeSantis to attend, as well as other Dignitaries she's friendly with! Busy day ahead...........

7:00pm

Governor DeSantis arrives & my parents greet him immediately! Other guests are arriving, to include; Mayor Jim Catron & his wife, Chief of Police Reggie Alexander & his wife, & friends of the family totaling over 150 guests!

Huntington escorts each of the Guests to the Grand Ballroom where food & drinks are being served.

The tables each are marked with the guest's name on a card. Christmas music is playing. The wait staff are offering hors d’oeuvres & Champagne.

The menu consists of: Goose, apple sauce, ham, bread stuffing, crawfish cornbread stuffing, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, green beans, broccoli, ambrosia, a cranberry mold, goose gravy, a relish tray with green onions, watermelon pickles & olives, Russian caviar, pumpkin, pecan, apple & cherry pies. A crisp white wine, eggnog, syllabub, & sweet potato punch! More Champagne! We have Non-Alcoholic Champagne for Mary, Lucy & the kids!

My wife looks stunning in her new Red Christmas Gown.

George, I've never seen him decked out before. He looks like he belongs in that Tux. Lucy's wearing a Bluish colored Evening Dress, slitted in the arms & down the left leg; also looking quite Beautiful. The kids look like a Prince & his Princess! The whole family, I must say are showing their Best. Mother looks quite pleased with herself! 

This will be a party to remember, I only wish Rachael could have been here! The babies are upstairs with the nurse. They're bringing more hors d’oeuvres & Champagne around.

My Father's dancing with Mother, to Tony Bennett's Christmas Waltz. It's my Mother's favorite. I better get my wife out on the Dance floor, before someone else does, I'm somewhat stingy!

The Governor & his wife Casey seem to be enjoying themselves! They've been on the Dance floor over two hours already! The Ballroom is alive tonight & Happiness is it's heart! My Brothers don't seem to have a problem finding someone to dance with, I wish they'd settle down & have a Family. Sis & Bill are dancing the night away! Santa is expected to arrive at 12:01am!

12:01 2019 Christmas

The music starts playing: "The Santa Claus Rock" by INFANTIL! Everyone's rocking with the music as Santa enters the room! The music stops, Santa grabs his Bag & begins to pass gifts out to the Family & friends! He calls out each name, without hesitation or looking at a note. He just hands the gifts out as if he knew what was in them! Everyone seemed surprised but pleased with the gift they received.

I ask JR: What did you get Son?~ He replies: ~The Nutcracker Soldier, I've been wanting it ever since I can remember! Only my Mother knew, she promised to get it for me for Christmas, the year she died!~ I ask: ~What's the card say?~ He replies: ~ From Mommy with Love! Dad, I never told anyone!~ We both left it like that! I received the Gold ring I lost some years ago off my Boat. I had dropped it in the water, never to be seen again; so I thought! It's inscribed with the words: Dolphins Bring You Luck" dated 2004. These were words Julia said on my Boat when I took her to see the Dolphins, the year we first started dating! She had given it to me for Valentine's day! The card read: Love never dies Harry, be Happy! anta leaves as fast as he arrived, with a HO HO HO, Merry Christmas to all, & to all a Goodnight! I followed him out, but strangely, he just disappeared, poof he was gone! I really wanted to congratulate him on how good he was & ask him how he knew! Mother says: ~Son, that wasn't our Santa, your Father was suppose to play the part! We have no idea who he was, where he came from or disappeared too!~ Kind of got everyone thinking....... The last song is playing: "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas" by Bing Crosby! I take Mary out to the floor & dance the last dance with her, cheek to cheek! It's 2:00am & everyone's left. I & Mary say Goodnight & we go upstairs & get ready for bed! I didn't tell Mary about JR's gift, nor mine; but it was weighing on my mind! Even in Death she was able to keep her promise to our son & assure he got his Christmas present as well as; to send me a message! God is good! Merry Christmas to you all from the Newport Family & Goodnight!

Skipping forward:

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Happy Birthday John Ross/New Years Eve 

It's 6:00am & my wife is feeding little Harry. We're drinking coffee in the room, Decaf for Mary. When finished, we'll go downstairs for Breakfast. Eggs Benedict, Toast, English Butter, Jelly, fruit, & juice is on the menu this morning.

We got to get things together for today. Its JR's Birthday & we want it to be a special! Mother has planned a big party for him, lots of guest!

The cake will be delivered some time today!Kellyanne has asked if I would take her & her Dad to the Mall, so she can buy him something special for JR! Tonight Mother will be putting on her Annual New Year Fireworks display!

7:00am, Huntington rings: ~Breakfast is being served in the Dining room ~ We go downstairs, to the Dining room & are seated! It's 8:30pm & we're finished eating. Myself, George & Kellyanne get in Father's car & proceed to the Valdosta Mall just over the State line. She wants to go to Jared's. It's 9:45pm & we're pulling into the Mall's parking lot. It opens in fifteen minutes. That's good, no rush. 10:00am sharp & they open the entrance, we head for Jared's.....

Kellyanne finds a ring she says is perfect! It's a Black Diamond ring 1/2ct tw 10k Gold running about $1300.00! I have to say she has impeccable taste. Not feminine looking, yet beautiful. JR will love it. She has them inscribe the words: Love is forever! I can't help to notice how much Kellyanne is like Julia the way she thinks! No wonder JR loves her so much!

It's 12:30pm & we are enroute to Madison. We stop at Dairy Queen for lunch. Its 1:00pm. 1:45pm & were on the way back to the Mansion. 2:10pm we arrive. Mother is outside supervising the setup for the party & Fireworks tonight. I go upstairs & my wife is talking a nap. I kiss her on the forehead, careful not to wake her, check on the baby & go back downstairs to have a beer & help wherever I can!

It's 3:30pm & the cake is delivered. The stage for the Band has just been finished.

Mother has hired The Frequency Band for tonight. Mother is a perfectionist, everything must be right. She's hire fifty extra staff for the Party, she loves JR. He was her first Grandchild!

Dinner will be finger sandwiches & hors d’oeuvres, as well as cake & ice cream; served during the party! Dress is casual.......

t's 5:30pm, the band has arrived & setting up! Though not like when he was a child, this party will still be big.......

6:00pm, the guests are arriving & the band is already playing music. They're quite good actually, from LA is what I hear!

7:00pm & the party is in full swing. Kids & adults alike are dancing. They're playing all the latest favorites. Drinks are being served but Alcohol is in one tent under the control of Huntington. Soda & Fruit Punch in another, self serve! There's Sweet Tea for the asking.....

8:00pm, the band starts playing Happy Birthday to John Ross, & a table is rolled out with a cake!

Two candles in the shape of the number sixteen, on top of a Beautiful Black Cake. JR makes a wish, blows out the candles, takes a knife & cuts the first piece. 

Kellyanne hands her gift first. The ring & a kiss! She says: ~John Ross, take this ring as a symbol of my everlasting love for you. Happy Birthday John Ross, may you have many more!~ He slipped the ring on his finger & kissed her. He says: ~Kellyanne, I'll never take it off for as long as I live!~ 

He begins to open the many gifts from everyone here.

Mary bought him a Beautiful Compass inscribed: "To my son: Wherever your journey in life may take you, I pray you'll always be safe.

ENJOY THE RIDE & NEVER FORGET YOUR WAY HOME. I'm Always Here For You; Mom"! The compass is made of Gold in a Sailor's pocket watch casing. Quite elegant, I could see him trying to hold back tears!

I got him a Man's music box with my recorded words to him: "To my son: SOMETIMES IT'S HARD TO FIND WORDS TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO ME. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN Loving you & breathing I WOULD USE MY LAST BREATH TO SAY ~I LOVE YOU~ I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO LOVE YOU, I WILL ALWAYS BE THERE TO SUPPORT YOU. You will always be my baby boy. ~Love Dad~"

My Parents got him a Pocket watch with the inscription: "To my Grandson: Never forget that I Love you. I hope you believe in yourself as much as I do.

George & Lucy gave him a Gold wristwatch.My Brothers gave him a check for a thousand dollars. My Sister & Bill gave him an authentic Navy 1860 Officers Cutlass with His name on it, inscribed: "With His Swift & Terrible Sword "

It's 11:00pm. JR received well over two hundred gifts. He will have to leave some of them behind when he returns to the Academy on Thursday!

11:59pm & were getting ready to countdown to the New Year. Were counting down from 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 & the Fireworks display goes off as the band plays "Auld Lang Syne" The new Year's Anthem! I take my wife in my arms , kiss her, really kiss her & tell her : ~I love you Mary!~ She replies back: ~I love you my Harry!~ Everyone is kissing, singing & wishing all well! It's now 1:00am & the Fireworks Display is over. The band has played it's last set & everyone's leaving! Everything went well & we all had a great time. It's New Year's day & JR goes back to school tomorrow. We will be going home too! It's been a great vacation except for losing Rachael! 

We say Goodnight & go upstairs. We're tired, The baby senses we're here. Mary nurses him before we lay down. She lays little Harry down, we lay down & fall asleep in each other's arms!Wednesday, January 1, 20206:00am, I've decided to let Mary get some rest after a long night. I change little Harry, feed him with stored Breast milk in a bottle, burp & play with him a little while! This brings memories back of when JR was a newborn! He fell asleep in my arms, I lay him on his back in the Bassinet! It 8:00am, I wake Mary up to see if she's hungry. She wants to sleep another hour,I go downstairs & Brunch is being served. I ask Huntington to assure that Mary has something to eat when she wakes up. I sit down & eat, it's only myself, my parents & Mary's parents! Seems like everyone else decided to sleep in..... I say Good morning & they reply almost simultaneously: ~Good morning Harry!~ Mother asks: ~Sleep well son?~ I reply: Yes Mother, I did; Thank you! She says: ~How's Mary & the Baby, is Harry Jr sleeping through the night?~ I reply: ~Yes Mother, he is & Mary's sleeping in another hour!~ She replies: ~Good, a new Mother need as much rest as she can get!~ Mary's Mother adds: ~Yes they do! Harry, you're a good man, our daughter loves you very much & so do we! We feel Blessed having you part of the Family & you to John Ross!~ I reply: ~She is my Blessing Laura, she & my children are my life. I'm more than proud to be part of the Family & I love you two as well!~

8:30am, JR sits down at the table, followed by Kellyanne! They both say Good morning & sit down at the table. JR remarks: ~I'm starving!~9:15am Breakfast is over. Huntington has told Cook to hold Breakfast for an hour in case the rest of the Family is hungry! I go back upstairs & check on Mary. I find she's up & the baby seems to be hungry again. She's nursing him! I call downstairs to the kitchen & have them send Mary's Breakfast up to the room!...... We've got to pack & get ready for our trip home. JR's flight takes off for Valley International at 5:30am & the rest of us are scheduled to take off for Miami International at 7:15am! My wife finishes nursing little Harry, I take & burp him so she can eat! She says: ~Lord, I can really use a strong cup of regular coffee! But our son is more important! But just as soon as he stops nursing, I'm going to nurse on a whole pot of Community!~ She laughs, but she's more serious than she let's on..... I'm having fun with little Harry! He sure does smile allot, but Mary says it's gas! I think he smiles because he's a Happy baby! I put our son in his Bassinet because he's fallen asleep! I sit next to my wife & say: ~Mary Grace Newport, I love you! You married me & gave me life. You took my son as your own & raised him! Now you've given me another son! You have been & are my life. I'm truly Blessed! Thank you Mary, I only hope I tell you enough!~ She replies: ~Harry, you tell & show me every day! It fills my heart with joy & happiness everytime I hear your words. I love you Harry, with every essence of my being! I live for you Harry, you're my heart & soul!~ We embrace & kiss for more than a few minutes! We go ahead & pack up everything we can for now. We have laundry that has to be brought up to the room later!

Were just going to hangout with the Family today, we're going to miss them all very much! JR & I will visit the Cemetery this afternoon, so he can see Julia's & his Grandparents graves one more time before he goes back to Texas! He wants to plant flowers on the graves........ I think he wants to tell Julia thank you for his gift. I know that sounds strange but so do I, there's no other explanation!We go downstairs & everyone is congregating in the Game room. Mother has declared this day, "Family Day"! She says: ~We see far too little of each other, & I think it nice if we spend the day enjoying each other's company!~...... She has Finger sandwiches, Olives, Dill pickles, Cheeses, Sweets & Drinks set up on a table. We'll not have to stop for lunch, yet we can eat as we wish! I & George immediately challenge my Brothers to a game of Eight ball! I'm quite good at this, though it's been a while..... Father is acting as Barkeep! My Sister & our wives are Bowling on the indoor alley! Mary's parents & Mother are playing cards! JR & Kellyanne are playing Table Soccer!......... it's 4:30pm & as promised, I borrow Father's car: I & JR are enroute to Newport Cemetery to place flowers on Julia's & her Parent's graves. We'll place them on my Grandparents grave as well! It's 5:30pm & already getting dark. We leave the Cemetery enroute back to the Mansion. It's 5:55pm & as we're walking in the doors, Huntington rings: ~Dinner is being served in the Dining room!~ We all have our last Dinner as a Family! It's 7:30pm & Dinner is over. We retire to the Drawing room & share a little more time together. We plan next Christmas vacation together. It's 9:00 & we say our Goodbyes to my siblings. Mine & Mary's Parents will be up to say Goodbye in the morning. The Chauffeur will drive us to the Airport, theirs eight of us with the Babies & Father's Car won't have enough room. We say Goodnight & go upstairs so we can be fresh in the morning. Mary nurses little Harry while I take my shower! After; I take, burp & play with him while Mary takes a shower! I see him smiling more & more, warming my heart with everyone! He falls asleep in my arms & I lay him down on his back! I didn't know that SIDS was a growing threat in the USA & laying a baby on their stomach or side was the leading cause! Mary taught me that! She's a very cautious Mom & I thank the Good Lord for it! We lay down & I say: ~Mary Grace Newport, I love you!~ She replies: ~Harry Joseph Newport, you are my whole life &I Love you!~ We fall asleep in love!

Thursday January 2, 2020

It's 2:30am & we get up. Mary nurses the Baby while I wash up, brush my teeth & shave. I call for Huntington: ~Please take our bags down to the Limousine. Mary finishes feeding the little Harry, I take & burp him while my wife washes up & gets dressed. We go downstairs & meet up in the Dining room. Mother has arranged for an early Breakfast so we don't leave hungry! It's 3:30am & we say our Goodbyes. Mary & her Mother are crying & Mother is doing her best to hold tears back. They kiss, hug & kiss us all again as we walk out the doors! Father walks us out while the others stand on the stairs! He says: ~Harry, I love you kids, please have a safe trip. John Ross, you too, make sure you make next year son! Bye you all & take care of our Grandkids, I'm talking to you too. You're family too now! George replies: ~aye Mr Newport Sir!~

I tell my Father,: ~I love you Father, we'll call you as soon as we land! Bye now!~ It's 4:00am & were enroute to the Airport. Its 4:35am, we arrive at Valdosta Regional & the Baggage Valet loads our baggage onto a cart. JR checks in & the kids say their final Goodbye. Kellyanne is crying & makes JR promise to write every day! He hugs me & tells me that he loves me. He hugs & kisses Mary Goodbye & tells her he loves her. She's crying again! He kisses his little Brother & Anabel, he's only got so long until Boarding, so he has to get through Security! Its 5:30am & his flight takes off on time!

JR has one more year until he Graduates in June 2021. He's already been accepted & will enter Annapolis Naval Academy in January of 2021 He'll attend four years thereafter; he'll be Commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant & serve a minimum of five years in the Marine corps! That boy has made us proud!

It's 6:15am & we're allowed to check in. We walk through Security & to the Boarding gate where we'll wait until allowed to board.. 6:30am & we're boarding the plane. It's 7:00am & our flight takes off on time! Its 11:20am & were on approach to Miami. Suddenly; we start climbing & are ordered to stay seated & buckled. We have a landing gear stuck & are circling the Airport! There's some panic, but all in all; most stay calm! We circle for twenty minutes & it begins to look like we're going to have to land without the the front Landing gear! Now I begin to worry a little! But I look at Mary & she says: ~It'll be fine Harry, God has us covered~ Suddenly; the front Landing gear comes down. Relief is felt all over the plane, people begin to cheer & clap! Mary turns to me, smiles & says: ~See Harry God is watching over us!~ I remember calling my wife an Angel sent by God, now I'm sure of it! She didn't worry at all, she knew we'd be ok! We're on approach again. We land & it's 11:50am. Late but safe! God is Great!!!! We get through Security, get our Bags from the Carousel & have our wives & Babies sit down & rest. George & I walk across to the Parking Garage & pick up my car. We drive around to the loading zone & help Mary, Lucy & Kellyanne into the back seat with the Babies. George & I load our bags & we're enroute home! I'm going to miss everyone but I'm so happy to be home! It's 1:00pm & we drop George & his Family off, they're looking tired & happy to be too! Kellyanne is still sad but she'll get over it! We're enroute to our house. It's 1:20pm & Home sweet Home! I help Mary into the house & come back for the bags. Mary takes our son into the Nursery & says: ~My sweet little child, welcome home Baby Harry!~ She lays him down in his crib & sings a Lullaby: The song is called "Sweet Dreams ". I've never heard it but it's quite beautiful! Mary is a wonderful Mother. I go in the kitchen & prepare lunch, as they don't serve food on flights anymore! Simple Ham & Cheese, Dill pickles, Lays lightly salted chips, Sweet tea! We sit, eat lunch & talk about all that's happened. We finish & she says: ~Harry my Love, I'm going to lay down & take a nap; I'm just feeling so tired!~ I reply: ~Darling, sleep well, you need to rest!~ I go into the Library & check my messages. I need to start the "Willow" back up after Vacation! Looks like I have a scheduled trip on Monday, January 6! I give George a heads up, grab a cold one & relax! It's 4:00pm & I think I'm going to cook dinner for Mary. She'll be awake soon & hungry, she has enough to do just taking care of the baby! I prepare Baked Chicken, Macaroni & cheese, Garlic Bread & I'll wait to see what she wants to drink!It's 5:00pm & Mary comes down. She's pleasantly surprised. We sit down to dinner & enjoy each other's company. We finish up & retire to the Living room. We sit on the Loveseat, listen to music & just cuddle. She has Baby monitors set up everywhere in case he wakes up..... He sleeps until 8:00pm, Mary says to me: ~I'll be back my love, let me nurse him, he's hungry! She goes up, feeds him & is back in my arms within twenty minutes! I love my wife & enjoy spending time with her. I am a CUDDLER! I love cuddling & showing her how much I love her! It's 11:00pm & she asks: ~How about a snack?~ I reply: ~Sounds great Darling~ She goes in the kitchen, goes in the pulls out two thinly cut steak out of the freezer & chops them up with onions & Bell peppers. She grabs four eggs & shredded cheese out of the refrigerator. She's making steak & cheese omelets! That's my favorite omelet, she knows me so well! We sit down & eat. We finish, I handle the little cleanup there is. She goes up & nurses the Baby. I'm done & I follow her to find her waiting for me, under the covers. She says: ~Come on Big boy, I need you!~ She smiles, winks & exposes her naked body! Goodnight all!

Duke Sherman

To Be Continued