#WITT fic

[twoidiotwriters1]

Until The Very End -(WITS Sequel)

A/N: I'M BACK-Danny

Words: 2,269

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2013—2014

As far as everyone knew, Leon Regulus was a decent student at Hogwarts.

The accurate statement was, that Leon Regulus was the best student of his year, and to prove it now he had a Headboy badge. He was also Captain of the dueling club, and rather popular... and he didn't want his family to know.

He was still staring at his letter when Mel came down for breakfast with Lily in her arms.

"Morning," she said. "Is that your letter? We can go with the Flints—"

"Get mum," Leon said, eyes never leaving his letter.

"What?"

"Get mum," he repeated. "I need to talk to her."

Mel sat her sleepy daughter on the couch and approached. "What is it?"

The young boy reacted, jumping out of his seat and holding the letter behind his back. "Get mum and then I'll tell you!" Mel stared at him and he got even more alarmed. "Do not read my thoughts!"

"I'm not!" Mel tried to hide her laughter, chasing her younger brother around the drawing room. "I wasn't snooping! I was just trying to—"

"No, don't do that! You're too smart and you'll figure out before mum!"

"Reg—"

"Oh, bugger off, I'll do it," he complained, seizing his wand. "I'm allowed to do magic now, I keep forgetting it.."

With a swift flick of his wand, his Patronus—a border collie—ran out of sight.

"Now what, you'll avoid talking to me until Mum gets the message?" Mel smirked.

"You left a minor unsupervised—and that one likes playing with fire!" Leon reminded her as he rushed upstairs.

"Oh, Reg, don't be such a—"

Someone knocked on her door then, and Mel tensed. It'd been a whole month since Harry and Ron had gone away, and she was still waiting for news. She feared opening the door to a Ministry worker holding one of those dreadful burgundy envelopes, the ones reserved to notify the relatives of a deceased Auror.

Mel walked to the door and opened it, she visibly relaxed when she realized it was Emily Flint. "Hi, love!"

"Hi," the girl looked briefly over Mel's shoulder, she was holding her Hogwarts letter. "Is Leon still here?"

"Yeah, you want me to call him?"

"Yes, please. I was on my way already when he sent me his Patronus."

"Oh!" Mel blushed. "Oh, sorry, Emi, I think my brother made a mistake—"

"Hi, hi, hi!" Reg rushed down to meet the girl and stopped Mel from talking. "You got my message?"

"Yes," she smiles, but it looks a lot different than the way she usually grins at her friends. "I was actually on my way, I got my letter."

Regulus blushes. "Me too."

"I got great news," Emily continued, looking at them with excitement. "I'm the Captain of Slytherin's Quidditch team."

"Emily! That's brilliant!" Mel beamed.

"Dad wants to organize a dinner to celebrate my promotion, he asked me to invite you and your kids if you're, you know, in the right mood—"

"Of course I am," Mel pushed aside the little sting of disappointment when she thought of Harry, missing the milestones of people they cared about.

"We'll be there," Regulus said, looking anxious. "Mel, can you excuse us?"

She looked at her brother with a raised brow, but the boy just gave her a look to urge her to leave them alone. Once again Mel concealed her mirth and stepped aside. "Sure. I'll be in the kitchen with Lily."

When Mel's mother arrived, Emily Flint was still with Regulus upstairs.

"Hey," Mel started, lowering her voice so her children couldn't hear their conversation. "I can't believe I'm asking you this, but..."

"Your brother has gone soft over Erick's oldest daughter, yes," the woman smiled. "But Mel, need I remind you it's rude to talk about other people's love lives, especially when they're young?"

Mel made a face. "I stand by what I said back then, it was wrong of you to bet on my life. But I'm not betting, now I understand why Regulus was so eager to come and spend the summer here."

"Well, he's always liked spending the summer with you."

"But this year he's barely been here at all!" Mel pointed out. "He's spent every afternoon with the Flints—with Emily. They go to the muggle town and come back at dusk, beats me what they can do there that could be considered fun for teenagers—"

"Oh, Mel," her mother rolled her eyes with a knowing smirk. "You and Harry would walk around Privet Drive doing absolutely nothing most days, and you still had loads of fun."

She smiled at the memories of her youth, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading on her chest. "So this means our Reggie has a girlfriend now?"

"I don't think Emily would date him without having her father's approval first," her mother grinned. "And we would've heard something from Erick by now if she'd asked. He would've come to you vibrating with the need to share the news."

Mel laughed, shaking her head a little. "Well, at least it's the one boy that Erick has known since baby. That ought to ease his mind."

"Might not be as lucky with the rest of his children," Emily smirked. "He could have a Mel in his home."

The woman scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Just, you know... how every time you dated I would always find out through other people or months after it had started—"

"Well, maybe if someone hadn't bet on my love life, perhaps I would've kept them in the loop."

"Mum?" Reg's voice came from the hallway.

Mel and Emily both stopped and turned to him. Emily Flint pushed the older boy forward, and he stepped closer to them, holding his Hogwarts letter.

"Hi, boy," His mother smiled. "Everything okay?"

He handed her the piece of paper. "I'm Headboy."

"What!" Mel seized the letter and read it hastily. Beside her, their mother gasped and covered her mouth with both hands in shock. "Reggie!"

Mel pulled her brother in for a hug, her mother soon joining in. Leon laughed, face flushed, and held onto them, he was shaking.

"I didn't know you were aiming for that!" His mother exclaimed. "I mean, when you got the Prefect badge you looked annoyed—"

"He wasn't annoyed, he was stressed," Emily Flint clarified. "Layla's a troublemaker, and she was counting on him getting the badge."

"Ah, your father went through the same with us," Mel grinned guiltily. "I personally, didn't make his job any easier."

"Yes, he has a lot of stories," the girl giggled. "Anyway, if you are okay with it, I want to share my dinner celebration with Leon, I think he deserves it."

Regulus blushed and turned to his friend. "No, I already told you I don't want that!"

"I've been trying to convince him for a whole hour," Emily turned to the older women pouting. "Please talk to him?"

"It'll be fun, we can invite everyone! Harry..." Mel stopped, her husband wasn't around to celebrate with them. Emily—her mother—placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"First things first, how about we all go to Diagon Alley and get your books? I didn't get to take Mel to buy stuff for her seventh year, so we'll all have fun with it."

"Why not?" Emily Flint asked innocently.

"Mel didn't go to Hogwarts a seventh time," the boy mentioned as shortly as possible. "Because of the war." Mel and Reg shared a look, the air in the room suddenly getting a little awkward.

Emily's face got so red Mel took pity on her. "I was so ahead in my lessons by the time I was sixteen, that going a seventh time wasn't needed, if I'm honest. The war saved me the hassle of wearing uniform for yet another year."

Emily smiled shyly. "True... though I like the uniforms."

"You look nice in them," Regulus offered, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the kitchen. "Come on, I'll walk you out, Emie."

When the teens left, Mel took a deep breath and turned to face her mother. "I'm losing it, Mum," she pouted.

Emily hugged her, having to stand on her tiptoes to reach Mel's shoulders. "Still no news from Harry?"

"No," Mel sniffed, quickly drying her tears as they parted. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

"Been a while since the last time, that's all..."

Mel pushed her hair back. "It will never get easier, will it?"

Her mother's eyes softened, seeing herself reflected on her daughter. "My sweet Mel... the war ended so long ago and you still face everything the way Dumbledore taught you." Emily cupped her face.

"Is that... bad?"

"It's the only way you Dumbledores function, I've come to realize," the woman sighed. "But if you're scared, just say it."

Mel lowered her head and closed her eyes tightly. "I'm scared."

Regulus's family tended to go big when celebrating his achievements, and somehow Rita Skeeter always made it sound way more classless and embarrassing than it actually was.

Most people had doubts when it came to the reporter, but that didn't stop his classmates from teasing him about his rich relatives' traditions. Emily and Elizabeth Flint were overly protective of him as well as Teddy Lupin and Vicky Weasley, which was nice but still just as embarrassing, considering they were all younger kids. In Regulus's eyes, it was like having an army of toddlers defending his honour.

He was complaining about all this to the only person he knew would understand how it felt to be judged by things that weren't even his responsibility: Mel.

"So what do you recommend?"

"You know what I recommend," the woman grinned. "You're bloody good at charms."

Regulus wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "But I don't want to jinx or hex other people, that is beneath me."

"Exclaimed the prince," Mel laughed a bit. "Are you sure you're a Gryffindor? I never knew of a lion who didn't like fighting. Even your professor, Neville had his fair amount of fights."

"Well, maybe I don't see the point of getting my cloaks dirty with losers's blood," he rolled his eyes.

"Ah," she smirked. "So you're a haughty one, like my dad and his uncle."

"Can you be serious for a moment and help? There is a reason why I'm not asking Mum for advice, I already know she would also choose violence."

Mel laughed good-naturedly and then sighed, a smile lingering on her expression. "I'm sorry, Leggie, most of your family is a bunch of hot-headed individuals. If you want a mellower response, call Uncle Moony."

"I thought I was talking to Mellow?" The young man smirked.

The woman laughed again. "You are, but I'm afraid that when it comes to my little brother's well-being I don't necessarily act wisely."

Regulus hummed. "So you're sticking to your first answer?"

Mel pondered, looking out the window of her drawing room. It was almost midnight, and Regulus had to go to bed soon. So did she, but lately she wasn't sleeping all that well either way.

"No..." she shook her head before glancing back at the two-way mirror she'd propped up on a pile of books. "If I were Uncle Lu... I'd tell you to pay them no mind. You have good friends willing to fight your battles—though they shouldn't—so I guess... indirect intimidation."

Regulus chortled and raised a brow, shaking his head. "You're useless."

"I think half the Ministry would disagree," Mel grinned. "But that is definitely the mellowest answer I can give you. You're Headboy now, and you have that Sultens thing about you that just screams danger when you get angry. And you have the cold-blooded Black mindset, so really, I think what's best for you is to have someone to talk to so you get all that frustration out. Someone like a Flint, maybe?"

At her knowing smile, Regulus made a face and adverted his eyes, mumbling his response. "I know what you're implying."

"Good, that was my intention."

"I won't date Emily Flint."

"Yet."

"Mellow!"

The woman opened her mouth to reply but then she heard a sudden commotion right outside her front door, like feet stumbling to a stop and then some groaning. Mel tensed and reached for her wand.

"I heard something," she said quickly. "I'll talk to you later, Reg, see you."

Mel placed the mirror face down on top of the pile of books and got to her feet, turning all the lights off with a swift hand movement the moment her front door squeaked open.

"Don't move!" She hissed, prepared to cast a hex on the person if they refused to cooperate. "Who are you?"

The person groaned again and leaned against the threshold, mumbled "Lumos!", and Harry's face looked up at her. "I'm your husband."

Mel gasped, turned the lights back on with a flick of her wand, hurried to the man's side, and lifted his face up to examine the wound on his face, messily bandaged.

"What happened?" She breathed, trying to stay quiet so the kids wouldn't wake.

"I was lousy," he winced, stepping into the house and closing the door behind him. "Don't worry, I'm not dying—just a cut."

"Harry!" Mel exclaimed in relief, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He smelled like smoke and coffee. "Where's Ron?"

"Alive, better than I look," he groaned again. "It's alright, Mel, honest. They barely got my face..."

Mel cradled his face and her gaze softened, a tentative smile coming through. "So another scar, huh?"

Harry sighed, returning the smile with irony. "Nothing new," his hand reached up and traced over the ones she had down her jaw and neck. "I missed you."

The witch hummed, brushing his hair back and helping him take off the cloak. "You look tired, I'll run you a bath."

"It's midnight—"

"I've been going to bed at two in the morning anyway," she brushed it aside. "It's nothing..." Mel grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs, lowering her voice even more as she continued with a playful expression. "I'll join you if you want."

Harry's whole face lit up at the offer, his smile turning genuine and slightly crooked. "How could I refuse?"

Next Chapter –>

Taglist

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @21bruhs @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @cedricisnotdead @greengarsstuff @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @avengersz-biotch @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali3 @peachyaeger @espressopatronum454 @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @na1ven3vy

[cryptonite-exe]

Can I please get some headcanons of mirage with a more alternative reader? like someone who dresses with a lot of chokers wears a lot of black and listens to lots of nu metal

no rushes though! love your writing <3

a new, real love | mirage headcanons

𓆩♡𓆪 pairing ; mirage x gn!reader

𓆩♡𓆪 a/n ; this feels like a self insert FJDFBHDS still thank you for requesting!

elliot could only describe you as "someone different from the others he's dated" and to him that was no understatement

he's had his fair share of women, men, and in between that the planets had to offer and he could say confidently that you caught his eye and peaked his curiosity the most

the announcement of your soon participation in the games had everyone curious in fact, but when elliot saw your banner something in his gut told him to go for it

and he made it a rule to never go out with colleagues

elliot with his very quick to crumble confidence made it his mission to whoo you over

and a mission success it was. you were charmed by the idiot that's now your boyfriend

at first, he was under the impression that you'd bite his head off if he ever breathed in your direction

but to his surprise, you shared a pleasant first conversation with him

elliot thought nothing negative of your aesthetic at all- rather, he found himself growing fond of it the more he saw you

he totally tried wearing your fishnets and the various accessories you had at your shared apartment only for you to catch him red handed

like a dear caught in headlights, he quicky became a stuttering mess trying to defend himself

"how cute" you'd say, kissing him on the temple before properly getting him the right clothes

for hours you both experimented on different outfits, some he liked and some he couldn't look himself in the mirror without the feeling of embarrassment

you discover that elliot is quite fond of fish nets both on you and now on himself

(quite explains the sudden clinginess when he sees you wearing it)

your music taste is definitely something he had to get around on

the usual music playing at his bar was either some stupid sexy song, justin bieber, or the weekend- clearly reflective of his character

so before you started dating, there was a time when you lent him one of your earphones

and the moment you hit play, elliot jumped from surprised, and so did his soul

yes it took him some time to get used to it but now he even got a playlist with songs you've recommended

the only downside now is his willingness to argue with you on which song to play

"hey no not this one, 'a match into water' is better" he says, skipping various songs from your playlist until it played

the more time you spend with him, the more you got to see how black elements started sneaking it's way into his usual pop of color clothes

some being from your own closet but oh well he loves it so much.

his lifestyle definitely changed, but who said it was bad? you filled something in his heart he didn't know he needed

one of his favorite activities now is jamming out with you at the early hours of day

who cares about the neighbor's complaints when he's too busy looking at you

© this work is by cryptonite-exe, please do not copy and post on any other platform.

[mekakitsune]

hi!!!!! can i request some general dating hcs for mirage (apex)??? like how it'd be like to date him and what'd he do in a relationship (sfw pls!). ty :-)

U SURE CAN ANON i love him so so much hes my bf frfr 🤞

dating elliot "mirage" witt | SFW

→ gender neutral reader

such a sweet boy god. he would literally do anything for you, but like not im a simp way ykno?

okay maybe a lil bit in a simp way but

hes just. so kind, shows you so much love and supports everything you do )-:

LOVES movie dates. cuddling is like his fave thing to do. big spoon little spoon doesnt matter just touch him <3 hes touch starved

kind of a flirt most of the time, so it was sort of surprising how genuinely in love he was with you. stumbled over his confession, blush on his cheeks as he refused to meet your eyes. so cute.

anyways back to cuddles elliots love languages are psychical affection and words of affirmation !! would drop anything to hold you close and just whisper about how much you mean to him.

can get pretty emotional sometimes, not that there is anything wrong with that, he trusts you deeply, and wants you to know if you also need a shoulder to cry on, he is there.

loves to be around you, definitely follows you around everywhere, kinda like a puppy (: golden retriever bf !

sometimes you guys will just be sitting in silence and you catch him just staring at you. it makes him embarrassed for a moment before he explains that he just "can't understand how he got so lucky."

loves you so much and always makes it his goal to show it <33

sorry this is short im sleepy </3 hope u enjoy regardless anon (:

[fadeouttowhispers]

Fandom: The West Wing Relationship(s): CJ/Danny Word Count: 13.1k · 4 chapters Genre/Tags: Friendship/Love, Fluff, Humor, 3+1 of sorts, Secret Relationship, Romance Summary: The last thing their nascent relationship needed was people spreading true rumors about his relationship. Especially if C.J. didn’t want them out there. Three times that Danny keeps his newfound relationship with CJ secret from the press, and one he doesn't. Originally Posted: 25 May 2023-5 June 2023

All four chapters now posted 💜

[kitnita]

hey so if you had to sort the stars into a baseball fielding lineup...

so honestly this is something i've been thinking about for like a year now because last opening day i got struck with the desire to write a robotter baseball AU!! and then wrestled with the dual desires to a) add more of the team into the au and b) be Baseball Accurate and not have an mlb team of all white boys -robo, many of whomst are european and probably actually Did Not Know what a baseball game looked like until the rangers won the WS this past season & they all went to a game together, as besties. i made a whole post about it (the baseball AU dilemma, not the rangers winning the WS).

when i did put some of my Thoughts down in a plotting doc this is what i came up with:

and i do think otter & wedgie as catchers, miro as a pitcher, and the top line as the outfield (robo left field, roope center field, pavs right field) still feels Right!

since that's most of a team anyway, let's round out the rest of a starting lineup (and maybe toss in a couple of other pitchers so miro can have a break every once in a while, because i care) —

per this article, jamie played first base, outfield, and pitched a little when he played baseball so he can be our first baseman because even though i by & large Do Not Engage with him much anymore, it just makes sense.

this interaction between wyatt & bobby witt jr. is deeply important to me (i have the beginning of a cross-sport arranged marriage fic centering on these two in my wip folder) (i will probably finish it off this summer) so for Bobby Witt Jr. Is A Shortstop reasons, wyatt is also a shortstop.

and actually just to round out the fact that we've got all of the top line in the outfield and most of the third line in the infield, let's make short king logan stankoven our second baseball, à la known short king second baseman josé altuve

hmmm okay third base. craig smith. this is a pure vibes pick so if anyone has Other Thoughts please air them out

harls should get to be another pitcher!! to keep with the idea of him being paired with miro!!! honestly going strictly off that logic harls should be a catcher so they're a battery, but i think both of them being pitchers is fun. pitcher harls you're real in my heart!!!

actually further down in my notes i'd written ('tyler’s the like ……… vet pitcher who’s just getting his arm back after a couple surgeries') and you know what. yeah, why not.

make mush a reliever so you get some bullpen nonsense from him & tyler and we're GOLDEN

this isn't the whole team so i'm sorry if that's what you wanted!! there's just so many more guys in hockey. and also i cannot realistically picture like ........... daddy or suter or esa sitting in a dugout chompin away at seeds yk?? they lack the Vibes (imo)

[angelatmidnight1]

Who’s Laughing Now?

A/N: As promised, this story is a follow up to the matchup ask I answered yesterday. Again, I couldn’t decide between Fuse or Mirage, so I decided to post both stories. Maybe you’ll like this one better? I dunno, but either way, I hope you enjoyed one or the other!

Now that you’ve gotten more comfortable around the Legends, they’re not sure who’s more of a jokester: you, or Mirage. Both of you love one-upping each other with your jokes, so a competition was bound to happen. Mirage was on the road to victory until Rampart outed him for being ticklish, but Elliott isn’t going down without a fight!

A couple of months passed since you joined the Apex Games, and a lot has happened since then. For starters, you’ve gone from staying in your bubble to mingling with two other Legends: Mirage and, through him, Rampart. Any time a new Legend joined the Games, Elliott took it upon himself to introduce himself to them. He saw himself as the heart and soul of the games, so who wouldn’t want him as their new best friend? He was also friends with the majority of the other Legends, save for an angry robot or two, and he made sure you got a chance to talk with anyone you wanted. After all, what were new best friends for?

You came to realize that Elliott wore his Holographic Trickster moniker to a T.  If he wasn’t trying to bamboozle someone with his decoys, he was telling jokes to anyone within earshot. Some Legends thought he was funny, others…not so much. The last time he told Wraith a joke, she rolled her eyes so hard, you swore that they’d get stuck like that. 

But telling corny jokes was second nature to you, and something that helped your friendship with Elliott flourish. So here you were, in Paradise Lounge, with a cold soda in hand and a big grin on your face.

“Hey, hey Ramya…” 

At first, since you were so shy,  Rampart loved to pick on you. But now, you had her convinced that you were the first test subject of human cloning. Maybe you didn’t look like Mirage, but the personalities were pretty identical. She took a long swig of her drink; she knew by that silly grin on your face, she had to brace herself. 

“Mate, this’ll be a waste of a bloody good pint if ya say something stupid.” She warned. You grinned some more; there wasn’t any real malice in her voice, but you had your legs turned towards the side of the chair in case she made good on her promise. You were already giggling, so you had to take a breath to calm your laughter.

“You’ve heard people say ‘money doesn’t grow on trees’, right?”

Ramya leered at you, but didn’t move to chuck her drink at you…yet. “Uh huh…”

You snorted. “Well, I hate to tell you, but they’ve got it all wrong. Wanna know why?”

“Ugh, get on with it, (Y/N).”

“...Because all banks have branches.” 

Rampart buried her face into her hands and groaned. You, on the other hand, almost fell out of your chair laughing. 

“That was your worst one yet.” Ramya complained. She’d never admit it, but the joke wasn’t that bad. But, the last thing she was going to do was encourage your nonsense. 

“No it wasn’t! It was funny.” You argued, your eyes tearing up from how hard you were laughing. “It’s okay if it didn’t make any cents to you!” 

You heard Ramya’s chair skid against the floor, indicating she’d gotten up. You yelped and tumbled out of your chair, taking your soda with you. “No, no, no! I’m done, I’m done!”

“You sure are,” she agreed, marching up to you and grabbing the soda bottle. “No more of these for you. If Elliott ain’t gonna cut you off, I will.”

“What?” You spat, fighting against her grip. “It’s soda!”

“I don’t care what it is! You don’t need any more sugar!”  She yelled back, trying harder to wrench the bottle out of your hands. The commotion finally brought Mirage to the front of the bar. He wasn’t really that far away from you two, and every good bartender could hear arguing from miles away. 

“Sounds like someone needs a better sense of humor, huh Ramya?” Elliott chuckled. He put a new bottle of soda where you were sitting and winked at you. You smiled and let Ramya take the bottle you had, hurrying back to your barstool. Ramya scoffed. She threw the soda away and headed back to her own seat. She didn’t have to pass by you to get there, but she did…and you screamed bloody murder when you felt a cold finger poke the back of your neck. 

“Like hell,” Ramya countered. “If you’re going to tell a joke, you best make it a bloody good one. The ones you and (Y/N) tell are straight crap.” 

You put your hand over your heart, pretending to be offended. Mirage snickered. 

“Aw, don’t be like that! (Y/N)’s learned from the best.” Elliott’s smile widened as he leaned across the counter, nodding to you. “I don’t wanna brag, being the humble guy that I am, but they’ve come so far after watching me. Almost brings a tear to the eye…”

Your smile faded. “Elliott,” you said. “I’ve been telling jokes way before I met you. If anything, it’s you who learned from me.”

That wasn’t what Elliott wanted to hear, and it kicked off an argument. Rampart watched the two of you with amusement. She helped herself to another pint while you threw petty insults at each other. Then she put her hand up, silencing you both. 

“Alright, alright, before you plonkers say something you mean…” She drank half of her pint, smirking. “Let’s make this interestin’, yeah? Witt, try to make (Y/N) laugh. (Y/N), same thing. First one to crack loses.”

You and Mirage looked at each other. Then he grinned widely. 

“That’s a good idea, actually. You know, if you’re not scared or anything, (Y/N)...” Elliott drawled, coming around his bar to sit beside you. “I’ve been doing this for a long, long time. I’d hate to disade--dis--scare you off, before you even get started!”

“Save it, Elliott.” You leaned towards him, your eyes bright with determination. “I know you like to make speeches for everything. I can’t wait to hear the one to make when you lose~.”

“Hang on.” Ramya went behind the bar, popping back up with two water bottles. She put one down in front of you and Elliott, chuckling. “Gotta make this more fun to watch somehow. Drink some of this while you listen to the jokes. Loser’s gonna have a real fun time sloshin’ their way outta here.”

Mirage faltered; the jacket he was wearing wasn’t waterproof. But he had a reputation and a crown on the line, and he could always get a new jacket. He popped the cap off the bottle and nodded to you. 

“You first, buddy. Hit me with your best shot.” He paused right before he could sip the water. He smirked. “Try to make it something I haven’t heard before.”

You had plenty of jokes in your repertoire, but besides the occasional lip twitch, Elliott didn’t crack. Even with his cheeks full of water, he still managed to keep a smug impression. After one more joke, you threw up your hands. 

“Ugh, fine! Your turn.”

Mirage swallowed his water to tell some jokes of his own. And, you’d never admit it, but his were really funny. You pursed your lips tighter together, determined not to break. Ramya had fun watching you two for about ten minutes…but then she got bored. When you and Elliott switched again, she got up and positioned herself behind Elliott. The time for jokes was over, she thought. It was time to speed up the process. 

“Yo, (Y/N). Did you know that Elliott is ticklish?”

Elliott’s eyes widened and, feeling Ramya’s hands ghost over his sides, flew off of the barstool. He accidentally knocked it over in the process, and she came at him again, this time aiming for his ribs. He coughed, bringing his arms against his sides to stop her. He shook his head the whole time, grunting what you could only assume was him saying no. That didn’t stop you from climbing off of your barstool and approaching them. You looked Elliott dead in the eye and tauntingly wiggled your fingers. The trickster paled; he could take on Rampart with no problem, but two against one? That wasn’t fair!

Elliott could’ve used his ultimate to escape, but that meant freeing up his hands to activate it. And he was too preoccupied with keeping Ramya’s tickling hands at bay. He caught her wrists and held them away from him, giving you the opportunity to get closer and closer. His muffled protests grew louder, and he decided to use Ramya as a human shield. She laughed and squirmed in his hold, making it that much harder for him to hold her…and much easier for you to jab a finger into his ribs. 

The trickster jumped and, despite his best efforts, laughed. Both you and Ramya barely had enough time to avoid the stream of water that followed. 

“Youhuhu cheheheater!” Elliott whined. Ramya wrenched her hand free and jabbed him in the side, making him yelp again. “Thihihis isn’t whahaht we agreed tohohoho!”

You gulped down your water and grinned. “So? It got you to laugh!” You pointed out, poking his stomach. “Which means I win!”

“Nohoho yohuhuhu DOHOHN’T--” Elliott’s breath hitched when Rampart grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on his side. He gave up on holding onto Ramya’s wrist and wrapped both arms around his torso. “This prohohoves my pohohint! You’ve gohoht nothing on mehehe!”

You narrowed your eyes, glancing at Ramya. The modder returned your gaze and grinned. 

“Go left.”

You happily obliged, pouncing towards Mirage’s left side. Rampart leapt from the right. Mirage screamed, loudly, and used his ultimate before either of you could grab him. You stumbled forward, phasing through one of the decoys. One of the Mirages was sprinting to the door, and you frantically pointed at it. 

“There! He’s running out the door!” You yelled. Rampart turned and gave chase, with you bringing up the rear. The real Mirage watched from the back of the room, smirking. He waited until Ramya was long gone before he ran up behind you, tackling you to the floor. You screamed as you went down, catching yourself with your arms. Elliott turned you on your back, trying to get you pinned. 

“You thought I was gonna run out of my bar?” he laughed. He caught one of your flailing arms and pinned it to the floor, using his free hand to poke at random spots on your torso. “I don’t know what’s worse: you chasing an obvious decoy, or you thinking you’ve won by cheating!”

You squirmed, fighting against his grip while giggling. “I dihihihdn’t chehehehat!” you squealed. You batted at Elliott’s wrist with your free hand. “It mahahahde yohuhu lahahahugh!”

Elliott scoffed. “We were supposed to tell jokes! You know that! But if you’re not gonna play fair,” he smirked, seizing your other arm and holding it down with his knee. “Then I won’t either!”

The panicked giggles spilled out of you as he clawed at your side. You writhed, trying to get some leverage on your arm, but Elliott was stronger than you and kept you still. So instead, you called for help. 

“RAhahahahahamya!” You screamed, bucking your hips when he scribbled across your stomach to get to your other side. “Cohohohohme bahahahahck!”

Elliott snorted. “She’s probably still running after the decoy! I wish I could see the look on her face..” He laughed. He scratched up to your ribcage and kneaded in between the bones. You arched your back, giggling louder.

“N-Nohohohohohoho!” You whined. You flinched when he grazed over the more sensitive ribs. This encouraged him to tickle even faster. “Leheheheht gohohohoho of mehehehe, Elliott!”

“Oh sure, buddy. I’ll let you go,” he agreed, now gently pinching at each rib. Your eyes snapped up to his and he grinned widely. “Right after you admit that I’m funnier than you.”

You shook your head, screaming “NEHEHEHEVER!” Mirage laughed. 

“Terrrrible choice, (Y/N)! I thought we were friends!” He raked his nails up and down the length of your ribcage, snickering at your yelps and laughs. “We could’ve buried the hat--no, hatch? Hatchet! That’s the word. But fine, be that way!” He tickled even higher and stuck his hand under your arm. He drilled his thumb into your armpit, making you cackle. 

“YOHUHU’RE NAHAHAT FUHUHUHNNY!” You shrieked. Elliott jabbed around your armpit and your loud laughter filled up the room. “OHOHOHNLY YOHUHUHU THIHIHINK THAHAHAT!”

“I dunno. This is the hardest I’ve seen you laugh, and I haven’t even told a joke.” He answered, poking your ribs before returning to your armpit. “I must be pretty funny. The funniest, actually. Which you should say if you want me to stop.”

You were stubborn. Stubborn, and still hopeful that Rampart would come back and save you. So you didn’t want to give into Elliott’s demands. You wouldn’t! You drummed your legs against the floor, hoping to alleviate some of the ticklish sensations. 

“I’M NAHAHAHAT SAHAHAHAYING IT!”

Mirage sighed heavily, as if tickling you pained him. “Alright, you brought this on yourself.” He shrugged, suddenly releasing your arms. Before you could retaliate, he pushed a hand onto each of your armpits, digging all ten fingers into your skin. You shrieked with laughter and squeezed your arms against your sides, but it didn’t stop the tickling.

“STAHAHAHAHA!” You cried out. You bucked your hips, hoping it’d throw him off, but he stayed right over your waist. He shook his head. 

“Nope! You know what to say to make me stop.” He responded, continuing to wriggle his fingers along your armpits. He thought you would’ve given in by now, but he didn’t mind too much. He found your laughter adorable, albeit loud, and was happy to keep tickling you until he heard the magic words. But you were stronger than you looked, and you were clamping down on his hands pretty hard. So he pulled his hands out of your armpits, pinned your arms back down with his knees, and revisited your torso. This time, he used his knuckles to knead into your sides, bringing your laughter back down to frantic giggles. 

“Plehehehehease!” Elliott was a softie, you knew that much about him. If he wouldn’t stop tickling you on his own, maybe he’d just start to feel bad and let you go. But this time, you couldn’t be any more wrong. His pride was on the line, and he’d defend it with everything in him! He gripped onto your side and squeezed it repeatedly, making you snort. “Ellihohohohohtt!”

“Yeeeesss?” He sang, alternating between your sides and happily squeezing away. You tossed from one side to the other, trying to get a clear word out, and getting nothing but giggles. “You ready to say those magic words?”

Again, you shook your head. Elliott squeezed across your waist, ending at your belly, and your breath hitched. The trickster acted like he didn’t hear it, but he did. He tickled over to your other side and then doubled back, poking at your stomach again, again, and again. Each poke earned him a shout of laughter. 

“Last chance, (Y/N).” He warned, gently stroking your stomach with his fingertips. You gasped and threw your head back, pinching your eyes shut from the force of your laughter. “Just say I’m funnier, and I’ll let bygones be bygones!”

“Okahahahy! Okahahahy!” You squeaked. Elliott slowed down so you could speak. “Yohohohu’re funnier! Yohohohu ahahahre!”

“Yeah? You think so?” He asked, squeezing the side of your tummy before returning to the gentle stroking. You nodded repeatedly. 

“Yehehehehes! Yehehehehes! Nohohohohw stohohohohp!”

“Pfft, of course you think so! I am the funniest Legend out there, after all.” He smiled; now, he should have let you go, given that you said what he wanted. But he was having a lot of fun, and wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses. Now, say you’re sorry and I’ll let you go. Promise!”

“WHAT?”

You stared at the trickster in disbelief. That’s when the tickling pace quickened, and you sucked in your stomach. “I SAHahahahahaid it! Leheheheheht me gohohohohoho!”

“I will! After you apologize for cheating and for trying, and failing I should add, to tickle me.” Mirage’s tickling was getting faster, and you were teetering between wild giggles and hysterical laughter. “I’d expect that from Ramya, but not you. So you still owe me an apology!”

Somewhere, you found this surge of energy and renewed your struggling. “Nohohohow whohoho’s nohoht sticking tohohoho whahahat thehehy agrehehehed ON--”

Elliott decided to use both hands to tickle your tummy, squeezing and kneading over every inch of ticklish skin. He raised his voice over your cackling. “That’s a lot of words, buddy.” He chuckled, drilling his thumbs into both sides of your stomach. “I’m only looking for one, though! You know, starts with an s-, kinda rhymes with…uh…Mari?”

“NAHAHAHA! Gohohoho tohohoho hehehell!” You couldn’t help it. Elliott could be a real troll when he wanted to be. Elliott raised a brow and looked at you. You froze. 

“What did you say?” He asked, pushing his thumbs into your abdomen and tickling some more. You debated on repeating it, but ultimately decided against it and resumed shaking your head. Elliott smirked and leaned down towards you. 

“No, no. I just couldn’t hear you. Say it again, I’ll listen!” Then, without warning, Elliott tucked his head under yours, rubbing his stubble against your neck. You yelled and, with him still tickling your stomach, you fell into hysterics. 

“STOHOHOHOHOHP!”

The trickster snickered and pretended to still not hear you. “Hm, nope. Still can’t hear ya. Let me try this side!” He rubbed into the other side of your neck before you could bump his head away. You absolutely howled, and when Mirage moved his head to blow a raspberry into your belly, you fell into silent laughter. 

Finally, finally, he eased up on the tickling, leaving you in a puddle of giggles. He figured it was safe enough to let your arms go, but he stayed positioned over your waist just in case. 

“Sooo?” He smiled, gently tapping your belly. “Who’s the funniest Legend you know?”

“...You are…” You panted, still trying to catch your breath. He expectantly cocked his head to the side. 

“And?”

You groaned, but otherwise complied. “I’m sorry for…you know, cheating.”

Elliott climbed off of you, his grin stretching from ear to ear. “See, was that so hard?” He teased, laughing as you sprawled out on the floor. He would’ve teased you more if he didn’t hear his front door open and slam shut. When he looked over his shoulder, an indignant Rampart stormed into the bar. Elliott laughed some more. “Man, you got duped.”

“Shut up, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Ramya growled. She came over to Elliott’s side and peered around him to see you still on the floor. Judging by your disheveled appearance, she had a pretty good idea of what happened. She clicked her teeth, kneeling over and offering a hand. “Oh, mate. Don’t tell me you got your arse handed to you by this plonker.”

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position and grabbed onto her hand, using it to pull yourself up. And you were still holding her hand when Elliott strolled over, draping his arm around your shoulders. 

“Hey, it happens to the best of us! But listen, if you think I’m sens--sen, well, you know. Which I’m not, because you uh, just surprised me.” He quickly corrected himself, gently squeezing your shoulders. “(Y/N) here is really ticklish. Probably the most ticklish legend in the Games…”

Your eyes widened and, before Ramya could tighten her grip on your hand, you let go and hurried to the door. You were still really tired, but hearing footfalls behind you gave you enough motivation to sprint…or at least try. Elliott followed after the two of you, putting his hands in his pockets. Sure, maybe ratting you out to Rampart was uncalled for, but at least you’d remember what would happen if you challenged him again. 

[nvzblartdump]

After seven years, I finally got the prologue + first chapter of the Luck of the Draw rewrite up (ffnet + ao3), with the Witt and Witticism rewrite cooking to be posted next month. The current plan is for Story L is to be a short run fic (plan is 9 chapters, but it might flex higher or lower depending on certain factors) that dovetails into Witt and Redux when it's time.

[despiite]

✎ | ayyyo, just letting you guys know that i AM still around; i have just been otherwise preoccupied elsewhere as of late. anyway, i'm gonna try and tackle some drafts tonight and i'm in the process of adding a yj oc over here, so y'know. things are in store i'm just a busy gal with no attention span.

[pencicle]

Hey! Do you like stories I didn’t proof read? Do you like miragehound? Do I have the startings of a slow burn fic for you!

[protonpowered]

Ranger Days

Chapter Six - Friday Night Live

In which Cadet Witts is absolutely useless when forced onto live holovision

[artimisi]

Chapter 1

POV: mirage

The idea of everyone on the dropship staring at me makes me sick to my stomach. The desire to approach me is mixed with the want to maintain a safe distance. How awful is it, really? Maybe I'm just overthinking things, or maybe they can see right through my charade.

You can hear the announcer say “ here is your squad.” Before my mind could go into overdrive.

When I look up, my team—Vantage, Wraith, and I—pops up on the loading screen. Wow, I guess I get to witness the new rookie out there. I wonder why she is so young; after all, 18 isn't exactly the ideal age to participate in a blood sport, but everyone has their reasons.

announcer: This is your champion

Out of nowhere, Wattson, Pathfinder, and Crypto emerge on the screen. My stomach still feels knotted up when I think about my last argument with him; the discomfort extends all the way to the tips of my fingers.

Some of it is anger, the rest is guilt. Before I could do anything, I realized we were in the air on our way to the labs. As the squad arrives at their destination, the sky is painted in an array of hues.

I see a wingman with sniper ammo as soon as we land, what happened? What else has she done? This has rampart written all over it. I hear wraith yell in her comms just as I'm about to pick it up.

Quickly saying, "There's a hostel here," she runs behind the closest loot container, just avoiding what appear to be valks gunshots.

“I need help,”

“understood”... “got it.”

Unaware of what is waiting for me on the other side, I rush in. I remained concealed and kept striking bloodhound until they were overcome.

”I yell, "Enemy down. Same here," wraith replies, but before I know it, both Wraith and I are knocked out. Bang, Fuse, and Maggie can all be seen approaching with their rifles ready just over the horizon. In the brief pause before I pass out, I am aware that there is still someone living. soon I can hear the words.

There is a new kill leader after the squad was eliminated.

“I'm the new kill leader, cool," vantage exclaims with joy. I gaze up at her as I'm being lifted.

”I’ve never seen such a great marksman”

“ Thanks Witt, I wanted to tell you your party was quite sparse, if I do say so myself, so next time you have one, I'll bring some more guests.”

“I respond, "It- it wasn't that empty there's never an empty party when I host one," feeling blood rush to my brain in a panic.

"Are you sure, Witt? That party seemed quite sparse to me, though I suppose it was only my first,"

before she continues We hear the phrase

"Two squads remaining" reverberating across the arena.

Fortunately, the topic was shifted as we rounded the bend and came across the final team in the bunker.

When you look closely, you can see a cryptos drone propped up over the door waiting for its next victim among the death boxes and fences that surround the entire area.

"The enemy is here."

The advantage mirage’s team had disappeared. The imminent round four ring approached. From high ground, they were only just able to get by the intensely hot ring and its heat emanating on the back of them.

Before they could gather their breath, an Emp blasts through the air and makes a powerful impact. breaking their defenses, leaving them with ringing ears.

taken by surprise Pathfinder quickly eliminates vantage; shortly after, Wattson knocks out the wraith. All the odds were against him with both of his colleagues down and the last circle approaching.

A Kraper bullet pierces Mirage's head, giving him a shock sensation as he turns. Crypto rushes for the kill, mocking Mirage as he punches him in the face.

everything begins to go dark.

Announcer: “we have your champion”

*

After a while.

I soon awaken. As I look about and am blinded by bright white lights, my blood chills and I can still feel the kraper shot in my body. As I breathe, the room's extreme temperature makes me shiver. Each cloud that floats in the air and leaves my mouth may be seen vanishing.

If this wasn't referred to as the healing station, you could assume it was a posh mortuary. This room conveys a lot with its uniformed design, stark white color scheme, and overwhelming emptiness.

You would think that after playing so many games, I would eventually become accustomed to seeing this room. I sometimes forget physically, it might become better, but mentally, the body never forgets.

In a white coat, Ajay is penning what I take to be crucial notes when I turn around and see her.

“Elliott, I saw it took ya a little longer to get up than normal. Ajay explained to him why her loud Jamaican accent was echoing off the walls. “

“Well, knowing that I'm in good care was comforting. Yeah, you're in the best hands of all of Solace, damnit.”

“How are you doing, Eli?” Inquiring, Ajay.

"I feel fine... body aches, but other than that- Eli, how are you handling things?” Her aggressive delivery becomes less obnoxious when you hear the honesty In her voice.

I've noticed how you two interact with one another, so that's why I'm asking. "The other well wants nothing to do with you. You only want a little closure."

”Hold on, Renèe and I. No, we're not—you know about whom I'm talking, Wit! "Ya and Kim, what's happening?"

”Nothing!” Nothing, or at least that's how it feels. Around them, there is a growing sense of regret and remorse.

“Ummm… Eli, just know you have people to talk to. I'll give you some space, though.

Ajay immediately exits the room to attend to a different patient.

That emptiness returns before I have a chance to react.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Until The Very End -(WITS Sequel)

A/N: Been a while since I'd written single-scene chapters. Also happy WITS anniversary?? 3 years now wtf -Danny

Words: 2,074

Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next chapter

2012

It was no surprise when Emily Flint got sorted into Slytherin, and no surprise when she picked the hardest subjects on the curriculum once her third year came around. But it was a surprise when she went to the Quidditch tryouts and got the Seeker position.

Teddy Lupin would have someone to train with during the holidays now, Reg preferred doing muggle-type activities during his free time, and Victoire didn't like flying. Emily was the only one in the small group of friends who had a strong love for Quidditch, which her father could not understand.

He would understand even less now, Emily thought as she glared at her broken ankle waiting to be healed.

"Bollocks," much like her father, she didn't like swearing unless she was upset, and unfortunately, that was the case. "My career is over..."

"There you are!"

Emily's face heated up at the sound of Leon's voice. However, the whirlwind of feelings that came to her was represented on her face in the form of a scowl. "If you're coming here to tease, you can do so later," she sulked.

The older boy stopped halfway to her, eyes wide. "I wanted to check on you, that was a pretty harsh fall out there—I almost jumped out of my seat to try and catch you."

Emily sank further in her bed, wishing her heartbeat would stop thumping. "I'm fine. You may leave."

Leon frowned a bit, but it was more out of confusion than annoyance. "What's your deal? You caught the snitch and your team won—aren't you proud?"

"No, I'm not proud!" Emily snapped. "I promised Dad I wouldn't be careless while playing, he doesn't want me to play—says your sister and Harry took a lot of injuries from Quidditch and you know how paranoid he is, I promised I'd be careful!"

"You can't control that," Leon shrugged, not matching her panic. "Mel couldn't, and she'd control the weather if she wanted to. You can't promise you'll be safe every second of the game."

"Dad won't let me play now," Emily groaned, not listening to him. "My time in the team is over and I had just gotten the spot! It's not fair, Quidditch is the one thing he hates that I love. It's a huge joke, this is what this is."

"C'mon, your dad's not unreasonable, he's quite the opposite," Leon insisted with a tiny smile. "You got a little excited while playing, but it's just a broken ankle, he knows you can take care of yourself."

"And what if Ellie wants to play Quidditch once she starts next August? Dad won't let her because of what happened to me—I've ruined my siblings's chances."

"Emie, you have to cut yourself some slack," the boy replied, his grey eyes darkening with concern. "Penny says you rarely spend time with friends! And every time I go visit your common room, you're rubbing your nose raw on a book."

Emily stared down at her hands. "Because I want to make my father proud. I want to be perfect so he... so I can show him that all those sacrifices he made when he was my age were all worth it."

"Hey, when your dad was our age, he did all kinds of stuff. Once he stole someone else's hair for a Polyjuice potion and knocked that girl unconscious so she wouldn't show up while Mel was pretending to be her." Leon tried not to, but a chuckle escaped him as he sat next to Emily's bed.  "He wasn't unhappy all the time. You know what he's always telling me?"

Emily's hazel eyes are fixed on the boy's face, expectant and curious. "What?"

"He says that it was thanks to my sister that he loved school, and found real friends. And... I don't know if you know, but he and my sister had a thing when she was my age."

"What!"

"Don't tell him I told you!" Leon blushed. "My point is, he wasn't sad about anything, because his parents and brother had never been mistreated for their beliefs and yet they were always angry and miserable—but he'd been beaten twice, and on both occasions, the pain was nothing because Mel was there for him."

Leon grabbed her hand and squeezed lightly. "He thinks I'm like my sister, and maybe he sees you're just like him. So, he wants me to keep an eye on you. He says every Flint needs a Sultens," he grinned. "I think us Sultens would be nothing without our Flints. You're the sole reason why I didn't end up being a brat."

"Really?" Emily laughed, though still conscious of the way Erick was holding her hand.

"I was always trying to force you to follow my rules," his smile grew. "And you would always leave me there standing. It drove me mad!"

Emily nodded, remembering a bit of it. "Yeah, you were annoying."

"Unlike Teddy and Victoire, you didn't worship me at all," he continued with amusement. "I tried to win you over but I never figured out how to get you to do what I wanted, so I gave up— accepted the world didn't revolve around me, and I became a better friend."

"And then I changed my mind," she mused.

"Yeah well, you didn't hate me, you were just nudging me in the right direction, even as a kid you were always wiser than me." His expression turned affectionate then, poor Emily had to slow down her breathing so she wouldn't faint. "But you're too obsessed with being perfect."

"I can be perfect, it's a matter of hard work!" She argued, momentarily forgetting about her feelings.

"Princess, your own father handed me the task of teaching you how to have fun! Do you know how grave the situation has to be to get that kind of order from Mr Flint, Master of introversion?"

Emily didn't want to be seen as a task, or a kid Leon had to look after. He'd always been the oldest, strongest and smartest, and she felt like a huge fraud, because the only reason she hadn't followed him around since the start, was because she'd realized Leon paid more attention to her that way.

She wondered what had caused her father to crush on Mel Dumbledore—dad wasn't interested in superficial stuff like beauty or money, he'd always said he'd fallen in love with mother because of the way she spoke, 'She's pure magic' he liked saying. She'd been the first person to make him feel interesting and special.

Judging by the things Leon mentioned, her father had been enchanted by the way Mel made his life bearable in school, because of all the good things she'd brought into his life. She'd been an advantage, not a burden.

Emily wanted to be that for Leon. She'd decided he would be the man she'd marry, but for that to happen, boundaries had to be established. The way he would call her 'Princess' wasn't even sweet to her ears, he called her that because Mel teasingly called her father 'Prince'. It was just as platonic, and it made her furious.

Leon Regulus was a good boy, but he was too self-sufficient and only followed his own rules, not even Penny could get him to do her bidding. So far he'd dated plenty of beautiful girls who fawned over him, and even if he'd never been rude, most girls couldn't stand his distant personality, they never lasted more than one or two months with him. 

It was easy to lose his interest, his feelings faded quickly once the thrill of the unknown wore out. She'd once overheard his sister talking about Leon's father with Harry.

"Uncle Lu says Sirius used to date girls just to keep himself entertained with something during the times he wasn't doing mischief. That it was fun to him, but once that thrill was over so were his feelings, no girl ever got to make him stay once he'd fully known them."

"But he knew Mily, they were friends," Harry had pointed out. "And he was in love with her his whole life."

Mel took a moment to reply. "I don't know. Sirius was impulsive and kept to himself—Mum was a fun girl but I wouldn't know the reasons why he felt differently about her. He never told me."

If Leon was so much like his father—everyone always said that—then Emily had to be more like her namesake. Otherwise, she'd be overlooked, and taken for granted, and she could not have that.

"I appreciate your efforts to look after me," the girl dropped his hand. "You're right, my dad would want me to have fun—more importantly, he'd want me to have a Mel Dumbledore. But I don't think that's you."

Leon straightened up in his seat. "Why not?"

"Well, it'd be too obvious," Emily rolled her eyes. "Mel's brother being my answer is lazy—and I'm not lazy. Dad wants me to look for my person as he did, so that's what I'll do. Some boys have been trying to ask me out but I keep saying no, maybe I should reconsider."

"What boys?"

"I'll take it from here," Emily smiled even though her guts were twisting in knots, she hoped this would not backfire. "Thank you, you've opened my eyes. I won't sit around in my common room where you'd always been certain to find me. Now you'll have to search the entire castle just to catch a glimpse of me!"

The girl tried her best to sound obnoxious in a credible way because she was young, but Leon knew she wasn't stupid. There was a thin line between being obvious to the point he'd known she was up to something, and sounding like she'd truly been convinced to change her ways.

"It frustrates me when I discover there are limits to my abilities and they don't always reach where I want them to—"

"I think you're okay exactly where you are," the boy mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. His burgundy hair reflected the sunlight coming from the window.

"But I'm missing out! I want to go out on adventures with you, Teddy, and Victoire, and then Ellie once she gets here! I want to date people—and I can't do that if I follow you around like a lost pup, can I?" 

"I... guess not," Leon frowned, seemingly confused. "I mean... yeah, you're right."

"I must find my way alone. It'd be silly to rely on you anyway, you graduate in a year and then I'd just fall back in my bad habits. So no, thank you."

She laid back looking pleased. If Leon decided then to really let go, her dream would die right at that moment... but she had to take a risk, it was better to not have him at all than to fall deeper in love, only for him to grow numb to her appeal. 

Emily couldn't stand the idea of losing the boy she wanted to be with when he was the perfect fit, so she had to make sure he remained interested long enough until she was the right age to place her offer on the table. And if she played her cards right, he'd be begging her to take him by that time.

"I... I know I can't force you," he wrinkled his nose. "But I'd be useful to have around, you know? I know everyone, I get invited to all the parties and—"

"I'm the best seeker in school," she replied confidently. "I think I can get into any party if I just ask nicely."

"Yeah," Leon agreed, though he was no longer so joyful. "You're right, as usual..."

"Don't worry, I'll come to you if I have doubts about how to break up with someone, or my charms homework, or if I ever feel like joining the duelling club," she teased him. "I'll be around."

Leon's grey eyes got cloudier as he sank into his thoughts, Emily wished she knew Occlumancy. "Your dad will be glad, then... I should leave and... uh... Penny wanted me to help with her transfiguration parchment, so..."

"Go ahead, I won't be lonely," Emily shrugged. "Teddy and Vicky might visit after lunch."

"Yes," he replied, now sounding slightly on edge. "Teddy will want to talk your ears off about the game. I know. See you."

The boy got up and left. The way he walked out with his fists buried in his pockets and that cute pout on his face reminded her so much of the way he'd looked whenever she would defy him, that she felt this had been the right call. 

Leon Regulus would soon realize he'd always been in love with her, it was only a matter of time.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @21bruhs @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @cedricisnotdead @greengarsstuff @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @avengersz-biotch @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali3 @peachyaeger @espressopatronum454 @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @na1ven3vy @kai-wifey

[bouncypickle]

I’m writing a trans and aromantic Octane fic if anyone is interested. It’s a PWP collection of multiple ships. Sex without romance but sex with care! Or something like that. lol

If anyone is interested, feel free to request a couple for any upcoming chapters.

[fadeouttowhispers]

Fandom: The West Wing Relationship(s): CJ/Danny Word Count: 2.5k Genre/Tags: Friendship/Love, Fluff, Humor, 3+1 of sorts, Secret Relationship Summary: The last thing their nascent relationship needed was people spreading true rumors about his relationship. Especially if C.J. didn’t want them out there. Three times that Danny keeps his newfound relationship with CJ secret from the press, and one he doesn't. Originally Posted: 25 May 2023

[shayyprasad]

intellectual | peter parker

summary: you overhear something you weren't supposed to, but it shouldn't have been said in the first place. in result, you can't help but wonder if peter wants something different.

warnings: implied smut, mentions of sex, insecurity, use of y/n

pairing: bimbo!reader x frat!peter

word count: 3.0k+ words (my longest fic yet-)

a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.

M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME

peter was totally smitten by you. really, he was. after all he's been through, it was kind of nice having someone who adores him as much as he does, even if you are... a tad bit dim-witted.

while he grew up surrounded by death, trauma, and more, you were raised sheltered, hidden away from all the bad things. and even though peter's been through some shit, he finds it to hold you so gently, like the pretty thing you are, as if you were stained glass; fragile, but so beautiful.

when he's holding you, all his soft, brown eyes can focus on are how your soft, manicured hands wrap around his rough, calloused ones. you're always careful not to hurt him with your acrylics.

even though you can be slow at times, it's almost impossible not to admire the way your clothes always hug your curves, glossed lips pulled into a pretty pout.

peter could have just about any girl he wanted on campus, but he didn't want any of them.

he wanted you, and only you.

maybe it's because you were different, and no, not in dim-witted nature. but because of how soft you were. you didn't know, and even if you did, understand the horrors he wittnessed out there everyday.

you were protected by a little (very pink) bubble that you lived in, so when he came home to you, it felt as if he was in a different world altogether. you were so damn good at distracting peter, and you didn't even know it.

you were in your own dorm room, watching a silly rom-com while peter was with his friends, he told you not to wait up for him, given that he would be up 'til the early hours of the morning. but you decided that peter and his goodnight kisses were slightly more important than your beauty sleep.

slightly.

you furrowed your neatly shaped eyebrows at something that one of the characters said, tilting your head.

ram-i-fic-a-tion? you thought, humming. pulling out your phone, you googled the word.

noun plural noun: ramifications

a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome. "any change is bound to have legal ramifications"

"legal ram-i-fic-a-tions?" you wondered aloud.

you skimmed the rest of the definitions, still confused. surely peter wouldn't mind if you gave him a quick ring? so you went ahead in did that, letting the sound echo in the room.

when he didn't pick up, you frowned.

"ummm..." you trailed off, calling one of his friends, spencer, instead. you weren't a stranger to him, but more of a mutual. after all, your roommate was dating him. actually, you'd ask alyssa, your roomie, but she wasn't here.

much to your happiness, spencer did pick up. "hiii, spence."

"y/n?" he said, slurring slightly.

"what does, like, ram-i-fic-a-tion mean?" you asked, careful to enunciate.

spencer was aware of... how your brain worked, and he wasn't a jerk about it (unlike some people). he was one of peter's closer friends, so you felt comfortable around him.

"ramification? oh, uh, it's like a consequence."

you frowned dumbly, "to what?"

"to an action. if you don't study for the final, you might not do well. that's a consequence to your action. a ramification."

"oh. oh! okay. thank you!"

he didn't disconnect right away, and you could hear one of his frat brothers, you were unsure who, talking. and of course, you strained your ears to listen.

"it doesn't get annoying or anything?"

you heard peter's voice come next, and instantly perked up. "what?"

"dude, be so for real. she's hot, but like, as dumb as a third grader. do you have to talk to her like that too?" he laughed.

oof, you thought, sucks to be whoever it was they were talking about.

"sometimes. she's good in bed, though."

wait. he was talking about you. your jaw dropped. i mean, you were stupid, but not this stupid. so this is what "saturday night with the boys" was all about?

you heard collective laughing. you did stupid things sometimes, but never had the mental compacity to be embarrased by them. this, though? this was different.

you trusted peter.

he was the only person who never, ever, spoke to or about you like that. in fact, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to like him so much. because he was patient, he was kind, and never did he once judge you.

well, that's what you thought.

but you were dumb enough to think that just because he never spoke about it to you, he never spoke about it all.

you immediately disconnected the call, dropping your phone. trying to focus back on the movie, you nibbled on a piece of popcorn.

but you just couldn't get over it. did it bother him?

all the questions? the dim-witted stupidity? all the pink?

reluctantly, you glanced the hot pink bowl that held your snack.

you didn't mean to be so... like that. you were just being yourself. did peter not like you being yourself? no, no, of course not. if he didn't, then why would he be with you?

a little voice in the back of your head rang out; "because you're good in bed."

maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and raise your iq?

you turned off the tv, hot pink popcorn bowl forgotten. alyssa wouldn't mind if you borrowed something, right?

you opened her room door, walking over to her bookself. wrinkling up your nose, you scanned her shelf. how could someone like reading so much?

it was so... gross.

oh, well. maybe peter was into intellectuals. and you had better become before he left you for someone like that.

your eyes paused at a book titled "the hobbit".

"what's a... hobbit?" you asked, not to anyone in particular. you skipped it, looking at her other ones.

"'twisted love', 'the fault in our stars'... what'd the stars do?" picking up the book, you read the back. "huh," you remarked, putting it back.

instead, you grabbed a couple self-help books, struggling to hold them with your acrylic nails, which, of course, were bright pink... accentuated with big charms; bows and hearts.

you went back over to your room, dumping them on your bed. checking your nails again, you drummed them against your palm to make sure they were intact.

you started reading the first one, curling up in a blanket, but you kept getting distracted. every five seconds, you look up to make sure your lashes were still in place, or that your skin wasn't to shiny, or that your hair was still perfect. and to be honest, you didn't really understand any of it.

like, who actually had the patience to read through all of it? how could a book cure all your crap?

and why would you read a book to feel better, when you could go to a spa, or a shopping spree.

credit cards were invented for a reason.

but you powered through, at the very least, you skimmed the words. there was no way you could read it word for word. but you wanted to try... for peter.

you wanted him to stick around, to love you, but not superficially. not for sex.

you stayed up until 1:30 (mostly reading, and you still didn't understand how people did this for fun), but didn't call peter. you'd talk to him tomorrow, maybe. first, you needed to get your facts straight. eventually, you got ready for bed.

this included showering, taking off your makeup, putting your hair in rollers, and your fifteen-step skincare routine.

you may have been half asleep, but you'd never skip a step.

peter came over around noon monday, when neither of you had classes. "jeez, babe," he groaned, you in his lap, "i've got so much to do. seriously, i'm never gonna get it done."

you twirled your hair, appearing nonchalant, "your mindset is either your best friend, or worst enemy."

you kept your eyes trained on your phone, waiting for peter to respond. looking up, you saw him blink. "uh... yeah. that was- that was very... un-y/n-like."

to be honest, you didn't even know what the saying meant. you just memorized it from your book. "was it dumb?"

"no, it was smart," peter replied, kissing your hairline.

"i'm normally dumb?" you asked, tearing up. lips pouted, voice moist, you made eye contact with him. you knew you were a little slow, but dumb? really?

"no! that's not what i meant. it just sounded- well, i- cause you never say stuff like that. you're my smart, pretty girl."

"oh, okay," you said, your nails tracing the curve of his back. you pecked him on the lips, but he brought you back for a longer kiss.

you giggled as he flipped your positions, peter on top.

"can i show you just how pretty you are?"

he didn't have to ask twice.

you were in the dining hall, sitting with some of your friends, mixed with some of peter's.

they were talking as you picked at your salad, leaning into peter.

"ugh," sarah, you kind-of friend started, "my boss gave me a premotion."

"what the fuck are you complaining about?" alyssa scoffed.

"because! it means that i have to do more...! like, i'll have to get up earlier. i dunno if i'll take it. it's cooler than the one i have now, but but it's not as comforting."

you spoke up, completely confident, "commit to change. either embrace the challenge of pursuing your destiny or shy way and live in regret."

collective "oohs" and "damns" were heard around the table, and you reveled in it.

"okay, girl, you go."

"parker, when did your girlfriend get a braincell upgrade?" you looked at peter, waiting for him to shoot something back, but he didn't. you frowned slightly, going back to the salad.

it went on like that, you would pipe in and offer self-help advice (not really knowing what it meant) hoping for peter's attention. sometimes you got it, and sometimes you didn't.

it was fine, you wanted him to notice you. after all, you weren't reading for fun. you were doing it for him, so... just, like, notice already.

you'd been focusing so much on the self-help books, your nails had grown out, leaving space between your nail bed and acrylics. deciding to take some time away from the books and all their un-understandable wisdom, you wanted to paint your nails.

nothing to big, but more simple. you were finding it hard to turn the page with the large charms on the acrylics you normally had to.

you found some 100% acetone in your bathroom, so you soaked your nails, waiting for the acrylics to come off. once they got loose enough, they came off easily.

you did some prepping, then picked out two different shades of pink. you were about to start when you heard two long knocks, then two short ones.

(it was peter's special knock, so you'd always know when it was him.)

"come in!" you called out, and you saw a head of fluffy brown hair peek in.

"hey," he said, slipping in your room.

"hi, petey!"

he came up from behind you, hugging your waist. "whatcha doing?"

you opened a bottle of nail paint, "painting my nails."

"cute colors," he kissed your cheek, and you leaned in.

"right? pink is so pretty," you gushed.

"what are these?" peter asked, and you looked over curious as to what he was talking about.

"oh, just, like, lyss' books."

"yeah, but why're they in here?" he read the back of one, raising a brow.

you continued painting your nails, trying to appear chill. "i was reading them."

he seemed to do a double-take, and you frowned, "what?"

"nothing- nothing, i just..."

"i know how to read," you said, shoulders sagging. "i'm smarter than a third-grader," you didn't catch the slip-up, but he did.

that caught him off guard there, "what?"

"what?" looking up, you finally met his eyes.

"you said you- well, yeah, i know. you just don't-" he paused, "self-help books didn't seem like your thing is all. oh, is that why've you been saying all that?"

"saying what?"

"all the-" he didn't want to hurt your feelings, but if he was right, he already had. "the, um, advice?" he stammered. peter didn't trip over his words often, and you knew that.

you were sure that he knew that you knew, but you weren't sure if he knew for sure.

you shrugged, "doesn't it sound smart?"

"no, yeah, it does." he's treading very carefully. it was quiet for a brief moment; "did you hear?"

"hear what?"

"the... the comment i made?"

"oh, that one about me being stupid, but good in bed?" you said it so casually, as if it didn't bother you at all.

but it did. he knew it did.

he sighed, "i'm really sorry, baby."

"for what?"

"for saying that."

"no, you're sorry you got caught. you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"i didn't- i was drunk," peter tried again.

"drunk words are sober thoughts," something else you read, you aren't sure where.

he was starting to get really nervous. he didn't know what was going through your head, normally he had a good idea, but it wasn't anything like this. it didn't seem like you hated him, but he wasn't about to take advantage.

"no, i-"

"it's okay. i'm working on it," you said, trying to make him feel better. as if you were the one who'd messed up, not peter. the idea itself was insane to him, and it only made him feel worse.

"angel," peter started, "this is not your fault. please don't make it your fault. i'm the one who messed up, and what i said was not okay. it was a stupid, drunk joke, and i shouldn't said it."

you blew on your nails, blinking back your tears. mascara, the good stuff, was expensive. you looked up, shocked to see tears in his eyes. you don't think you've ever seen him cry before. well, maybe once, when you watched "titanic" with him.

peter wasn't one to get emotional, he still denied ever crying over that movie.

"it's okay," you repeated again. you were dumb, you knew that. it really wasn't his fault, you shouldn't have pushed him to feel like that.

"but it's not. and i know you know that, please tell me what i can do to make it better."

"but-"

"no, it's not," he said sternly, "and i cannot stress that enough. i'm really sorry, baby."

you capped the polish, you didn't know what to say. it wasn't your fault? okay, fine.

maybe he was right.

"i got really upset," you admitted.

"i know, baby," the tears are falling, he quickly wipes them away.

"did you really mean it?"

"no, no, no, of course not. i absolutely love you the way you are, and you shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone- especially not for me."

"so you don't think i'm only good for sex?"

"baby, no, baby, no!" baby, he used that word for affection; when he was guilty, trying to prove something to you... in this case, how sorry he was. "you are good for so many other things," he paused, "okay, that didn't sound great."

he took a deep breath, taking your freshly painted hands in yours, "don't mess up the polish," you warned, even though you were tearing up.

peter smiled slightly, that meant you weren't too upset, right? that he hadn't fucked everything up by great means?

"i haven't ever met someone like you, who loves me the same back. and i don't mean generally, but romantically. lots of people can't put up with me," he started, "but you do, and jesus, baby, i'm so greatful for that- and you," peter added.

"you are the bright pink light of my life. you're so different from other girls i've been with, you see me. you don't look at me, you see me. like, okay, maybe you aren't the greatest at math, but you don't have to be a s.t.e.m. genius to be smart."

peter was getting raw, he was getting vunerable. "i don't know how to use a curling iron for the life of me, i don't know the difference between mascara and eyeliner. well, i do, but i didn't before you."

you looked at him, opening your mouth to speak. you wanted to tell him he'd lost you somewhere along the line, but figured it was important for him to get this out.

"you've got a different mindset than me, and i love that. you're the biggest feminist i've ever met, and wait until you meet may. i think it's interesting that your entire personality doesn't revolve around your degrees and resumes, because, god, people like that are annoying. most of all, you're confidence is amazing. i never had anything like that in high school."

you knew that he was a nerd, kept his head down, shoulders sagging. "i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it. i'm a huge insecure jerk that thinks he can get away with crap by projecting it onto his lovely, amazing, wonderful girlfriend. you're my favorite person, and i can't help but think you'll leave me one day. i thought that if i acted like i didn't care... i don't know. i- i don't... i'm sorry."

you took moment, that's the longest he's ever spoken to you, but he wasn't done, apparently.

"also, i don't care about sex. i mean, it's nice and whatever, but what's the point of it if i don't have you. what i'm trying to say is, i'd pick you over that any day, okay? it doesn't matter to me. i'm not with you for that."

"thank you," you said, it seemed appropriate. basically, he just compliented you a whole lot, and it worked; you seem to have a thing for praising. "and i forgive you. also, i hated those stupid books, and if they weren't, like, alyssa's, i'd burn them."

you shuddered, "i can't believe i read them."

"really?" peter asked, hopeful. you kissed away a stray tear, looking into his wet eyes. "we're okay?"

"we're so okay," you paused, "but you have to watch bridgerton with me."

he groaned, "fine." (you knew he liked it, he just wouldn't ever admit to it.)

"wait, so just checking, you aren't into, like, intellectuals or whatever?"

"i'm into you," he said, "whether or not you idenify as one."

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild Romance fic idea: Instances where one gets flirted with and the other two get jealous and possessive. Mihawk is showcasing his sword skills and gets flirted with by many, while Crocodile and Buggy both seethe quietly until they get Mihawk alone and let him know just who he belongs to. Mihawk may or may bot smirk to himself that his plan worked. Crocodile is smoozing it up with a sleazy trader for a deal while Mihawk nearly breaks his wine glass and Buggy grits his teeth. Crocodile closes the deal, but then has to face a very displeased Buggy and Mihawk. Finally, Shanks comes to visit and Mihawk and Crocodile really don't like how flirtatious he's being with Buggy. Buggy is kinda oblivious to it all but once Shanks leaves, he is whisked off to their bedroom where Mihawk and Crocodile happily remind him of who he belongs to.

Ahhh, the jealousy and possessiveness that all of them deny for differnet reasons.

Buggy and Crocodile being all grumpy because yes they beileve Mihawk should be praised for his sword skills, people should know already that Mihawk wouldn’t response to flirts… other than his lovers… I don’t think Mihawk would response to really any comment too… wait when Mihawk smirking because he did response to the flirts this time! Ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Crocodile smoozing up to a trader! Damn he really wants that trade. Poor Mihawk and Buggy, who have to witteness this branzy display. Buggy is definally cuddling Crocodile and won’t let him go or tries for the slient treatment. He’s problay pouting at the moment, while Mihawk is doing normal Mihawk stuff that he does when displeased. Poor everyone that has to wittness the aftermath… At least Crocodile got the deal? Just not happy lovers… Ooof

I see Buggy and Shanks more like siblings, so I’ll changed to people flirty with him and the clown is being kinda of oblivious or for some reason they are annoyed that Shanks is very clingy with Buggy. Not knowing that they are more like siblings then anything.