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cheri-translates · 3 years

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[CN] 100 Days - Victor (Day 51 - 100)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for e-mails which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

What’s the 100 Days Companionship Event?

Day 1 - 3: here

Day 4 - 30: here

Day 31 - 50: here

Day 51

Tonight, we’ll watch that musical you like. Don’t be late, and dress formally.

Day 52

I’ve seen your report. Its contents aren’t comparable to the supper takeout list from last night. Redo it.

Day 53

A pink apron? You think it suits me?

Day 54

Today, let’s visit that Internet cafe you mentioned - to take a look at what you’ve been pining after.

Day 55

The equestrian facility we went to before has recently opened again. If you’re interested, we can have a look together.

Day 56

There isn’t as disparate a connection between dreams and reality as you think. Dreaming about lions means that you shouldn’t watch animal documentaries before sleeping.

Day 57

It’s okay to use my voice as an alarm clock. But why did you set five of them?

Day 58

I saw you coughing a little during the meeting yesterday. The difference in temperature between day and night has been very large lately. If you have time, come over and have some snow pear soup.

Day 59

The black cat brooch you were wearing isn’t bad. It’s much more suitable than those incomprehensible sports shoes you’re wearing.

Day 60

You’ve been doing well recently. Do you have any plans over the weekend? Or should I plan them?

Day 61

The look you have when you crinkle your eyes to eat pudding - it’s even more Pudding than Pudding.

Day 62

The dogwood perfume sachet is already on the table. The chrysanthemum liquor needs a few more hours. There’s no need to be so impatient.

Day 63

The next time you can’t sleep, there’s no need to leave so many messages of you talking to yourself. Just call me directly.

Day 64

In this weather, don’t even think of having a cold beverage. Pick a hot beverage you want to drink, and I’ll make it for you.

Day 65

You concluded that the reason for your hair loss was work. So staying up late to use your phone is not to blame?

Day 66

If you want to eat something, just say it directly. There’s no need to post hints like “When the weather is cold, one should eat cream stew” on Moments.

Day 67

There are only two more months left to the year. Looks like the proposals you haven’t finished will be delayed till next year.

Day 68 (Halloween)

Title: Masquerade

If you want me to participate in the masquerade with you, just say so directly. There’s no need to beat around the bush. I’ve already received the entrance tickets, and will pick you up tonight.

Day 69

You were clamouring about playing the part of a Rose Witch, but you’ve become a Caught-a-Cold Witch today.

Day 70

The hoarser your voice, the more it expresses want. You have a lot of such worrying habits.

Day 71

It’s not that time doesn’t want to wait for you, but you spend too much time on useless hobbies.

Day 72

Managing your emotions is to allow yourself to mediate your emotions smoothly, not for you to hold everything in, dummy.

Day 73

That winter mountain villa you’ve been hinting at for a long time has started business. There are some themed suites - pick one.

Day 74

Someone usually doesn’t have a large appetite, but when it comes to her favourite foods, she always leaves me awed.

Day 75

Like many other things, there’s a limit to drinking. Being slightly tipsy is best. Don’t get drunk, especially if it’s you.

Day 76

There was a cat sleeping in the claw machine in the market. Even after getting the staff to open the claw machine, it still didn’t wake up. It’s just as nitwitted as you are.

Day 77

Not going to your own place, and even taking up other people’s territory… Looks like Pudding learnt it from you.

Day 78

Don’t buy too many useless items because you’re tempted. Just because there are many discounted items doesn’t mean you need them.

Day 79 (Single’s Day)

If I receive another meaningless message from you such as “Help me slash the price”, the thing that will be slashed could be the funds for your next program.

Day 80

If you have time to reminisce the past, why don’t we do the things you find worth remembering together once more?

Day 81

Refreshing the notifications for your deliveries a hundred times each day won’t make them arrive earlier. But the scheduled sumptuous meal can be brought forward by an hour.

Day 82

I don’t do meaningless hypothesis. If I had never met you? I won’t allow for such ‘if’s to happen..

Day 83

Things that I have decided upon have some leeway of changing. It depends on what you have that is worth exchanging it with.

Day 84

Chanced on the photograph you took with Pudding. Both the person and the cat haven’t changed much. It’s pretty good.

Day 85

Instead of imagining how we’d be like next year, why not spare some time to write a Year 2021 work plan to turn your ideal into reality.

Day 86

You weren’t around when I passed by your office yesterday. But the mess on your office desk surpassed my imagination.

Day 87

The coffee beans you felt were pretty good in terms of taste the last time - I’ve asked someone to bring some back again. Remember to collect it tonight.

Day 88

There’s a new special product in Souvenir today. Are you sure you’re going to keep saying that you haven’t had an appetite these two days?

Day 89

All I did was pinch the nape of your neck. Why are you staring at me like Pudding?

Day 90

It’s the first time I realised that reading comics during working hours can also be termed “gathering source material”. So is chatting with me termed “discussing a collaborative project?”

Day 91

A certain person has been signing in at increasingly later times. The closer one is to the end, the more one can’t slack off.

Day 92

Someone who has only won “one free bottle” a few times is always thinking of trying the lottery - truly indulging in the wildest fantasies.

Day 93

…I just mentioned it yesterday and you’ve won the fifth prize today. It’s truly a dummy’s luck.

Day 94

I might have believed your nonsense of being able to find inspiration while lying down, had you not fallen asleep on the sofa last night.

Day 95

If you have time to write a lengthy plan, why not put the plan to action immediately?

Day 96

Sometimes, I’d take a look at previous sign-ins and recollect the things a dummy has done.

Day 97

You’re usually too tired to even move after exercising for a while. Yet, you run faster than anyone else when collecting take-out.

Day 98

Every one of your so-called surprises tests a person’s psychological tolerance.

Day 99

There’s no need feel troubled that the signing in is about to end. As long as you want to, I can continue this childish game with you.

Day 100

It’s the last day. The next round of company doesn’t require signing in. I’ll always be here.

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nala-raines · 3 years

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Secret Santa

Author’s note: This is a Secret Santa gift for @choices_fangirl on Instagram. I can’t make an edit or draw, I don’t have tiktok, but I’m told I’m a good writer. I hope you like this.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Anna Blake)

Summary: Anna convinces Ethan to participate in Secret Santa with her friends and some hospital staff. Ethan just thought about getting a universal gift, that is until he got Anna for his Secret Santa. He stresses trying to find the perfect gift.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” Ethan asked as he was being dragged by Anna to the break room. They were heading there to fill out a form and draw names for Secret Santa. Ethan was reluctant to do it, but Anna per usual, had managed to talk him into doing it.

“Because you love me. And you know that it’ll be fun.” She says with a smile.

“You know I’m just going to get a gift card, right?”

“You can be no fun sometimes.” Anna says before covering a yawn. Their shift was over, he just wanted to take her home, make her food, and snuggle in bed. But this was important to her so there he was.

“If you say so rookie.”

They walk into the breakroom hand-in-hand and are immediately greeted by Sienna, Rafael, Naveen, Bryce, Jackie, Aurora, and Elijah. Everyone grabs a form to fill out and gather around a table so they could still catch up on the day's events. After a few minutes, Ethan offers to return the forms for everyone. They hand him all the forms, and begins to stand. When he places the forms in the basket, Harper approaches him,

“Ethan Ramsey? Dr. Blake must have you wrapped around her finger for you to be here.” She said turning in her own form.

“You could say that.” Ethan responded. He and Harper have had a professional relationship after they broke up, but after going public with Anna the two became friends again. “The things you do for the people you love.”

What he didn’t know was Harper was jealous. She knew that Ethan was happy with Anna, happier than she’s ever seen him. She just wished that she could've made him this happy.

“I’m happy for you. Looks like we’re about to start. I’ll see you later.”

“Yes. See you later.”

Ethan and Harper return to their seats while Naveen explains the rules. There is a 25 dollar spending limit; when you pull out a form, you can’t have a redo; and the form is there to help give you an idea for the gift. If you have something else in mind, you can get or make it as long as it doesn’t exceed the limit.

After everyone understands the rules, doctors and nurses take turns taking pages out of the giant bowl and opening them up as they walk away. Some were excited with who they got, others were mad, and others either didn’t care or were petrified.

When Anna goes up and gets her Secret Santa, she looks happy, but she bites her lip telling him that she’s nervous, but she looks overall excited. Then it was Ethan’s turn he walked up, reached in and pulled out the first form he felt. He just walked back and out the paper in his back pocket. When he sat down, Anna turned to him,

“Aren’t you going to see who you got?” She asked, looking a little sad.

“I was planning on looking at it later.” Ethan just sighed, pulled the paper out and opened it. He read over the name at the top of the page Anna Blake.

“Do you pull a board member?” She asked, knowing that two board members were participating as well. Everyone knew that Ethan and the board don’t get along.

“No. I just… didn’t expect to get this person.”

Two hours later…

Anna was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. It was her turn to stay at his place for the weekend, even though they had to work tomorrow. Ethan had read the form Anna filled out three times, his mind was reeling. He already had gifts picked and planned, but none of them were 25 dollars or less.

Ethan never loved anyone like he loves Anna. So, he refused to get anything cheap or go half way when it came to getting her gifts. Whether it was 100% real, thought, or time he wanted to show, in as many ways he could, he loved her. She said as many times “You don’t have to buy expensive gifts for me.” But he wanted to.

He pulls out his laptop and starts looking up nice necklaces, books, and nice cardigans or sweaters. But nothing was saying Anna to him.

“Shopping for your Secret Santa? I thought you were going to get them a gift card. Pretty much everyone drinks coffee or tea at Edenbrook.” Anna said, startling Ethan.

He closes his laptop as Anna pulls back the covers and snuggles into Ethan’s side as he laid down and wrapped his arm around her.

“Maybe I’m shopping for gift cards.”

Anna just rolls her eyes and snuggles closer.

“At least whoever you got will be able to get something nice for themselves.”

“Sweet dreams, rookie.”

Three days later, Ethan is in his office, taking a break and once again looking for a gift for Anna.

‘Anna. I had to get Anna. I already had all of her gifts picked out. Why couldn’t I have picked one thing that was under 25 dollars?’ Ethan thought, kicking himself mentally. He was never this worried about getting people gifts, not even for the few people he was closest to. But Anna was different, she is his everything.

He read over the list again, trying to think of something. He hit her favorite color: purple.

‘What in the world am I supposed to do with her favorite color? Anna is my everything she holds the...’ Then it hit him. He quickly typed something into the search bar and found something that would work for that he had in mind.

“That’ll work.”

“What will work?” Anna asked walking into the office with Baz and the news member of the team Tobias. Who transferred to Edenbrook after when he heard about that doctor Mr. Bloom wanted to bring in. He and Ethan had a fist fight, but they worked out their issues, became friends again, and now they work well together. Ethan pulled up a patient file that thankfully provided a cover story.

“Just a theory I have about a patient. I just need to run a few tests. Now, let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat the huns?” Anna says, with a smile. Tobias and Baz laugh, Ethan just shakes his head. But after that, they all got serious.

Two days later, he received a package while catching up with Naveen. Ethan signed and opened it up. He smiled when he looked inside.

“What’s that?” Naveen asked.

“Something I needed for a secret Santa.” Ethan responded, saying nothing more.

Naveen looked at the package itself, not inside it. The package was about a foot and a half wide, and 7 inches tall. But didn’t pry.

That night, Ethan put together his gift. It took three hours but it was worth it. All he had to do was wait.

One week later, the Christmas party and the Secret Santa reveal.

‘On Christmas Eve, naturally.’

Everyone was pleasantly surprised by their Secret Santa. Ethan picked up his gift, it was a picture of him and Anna on Halloween. She had conceived him to dress up in a 1920’s suit and she wore a 1920’s flapper dress and accessories. Sienna had taken that photo, it may have happened a few months ago, but it’s one of his favorite memories. There was also a little book, 100 recipes to make in under 30 minutes. The cover was hand-written, and it looked like the entire thing was made by hand.

Ethan simply looked at Anna before asking,

“Alright who got me this? Anna or Sienna. I honestly lost track of who had who.”

“Didn’t you tell me we had to be observant and listen to the people around us?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you, rookie.”

“You’re welcome. But how did you know it was me?”

“I recognized your handwriting.” He gave her a deep, long, and sweet kiss. Before Anna picked up her gift. A small box, with purple wrapping paper. She tears into the gift, opens the box and pulls out a note and an old fashion key.

“What the…?” She then reads the note…

Don’t worry, you’ll know what this opens when you see it.

She didn’t recognize the handwriting, and there weren’t any other clues. She looked at Ethan, he just shrugged and kissed the top of her head. No one stepped forward to claim responsibility for the gift. Anna thought about it most of the party.

After drinking, talking, and dancing with Ethan, she was ready to leave. She looked for Ethan, but she couldn’t find him.

“Hey Naveen, have you seen Ethan?” She asked.

“I think he went to the diagnostics office. He probably needed a break.”

She nodded and went to get him to take her home. But when she got there she saw a box with an old fashion lock, that matches the key she got. Anna quickly scans the area, but finds no one. She carefully walks over the the box to take a closer look at it.

The box had the same purple wrapping paper. It was over a foot wide and about six inches tall. When she got to the box, she noticed another note, it read,

I told you once that ‘I want it to be as special as you’. Well, that know applies to every moment. Because every moment is special, when I spend it moment with you.

Anna unlocks the box and finds a few thin photo albums. She picked up the top one, which has some photos inside from Halloween, Christmas, the vacation they took in July, but it was the next album that caught her attention. It was white with little bell cutouts, Anna’s mouth dropped. She picked it up and saw that there was a third one. This one has splashes of baby boy blue and rose blush pink, with little booties in the same colors. Her eyes fill with tears, as she fully realizes who her Secret Santa is.

“Well? What do you think? Do you like it?”

Anna turns to find Ethan standing behind her, his hands behind his back.

“I love it. But what is it... ?” She asks, nervous and hopeful. She thought she knew what was happening, but she knew that Ethan didn’t want to get married or have kids. So, she didn’t dare hope.

“Please, I want to get this out. I want you to hear what I have to say.” Ethan says as he takes her hands in his. “Anna, when we first met I wasn’t looking for a relationship. All I wanted to do was make sure you would become the best doctor you could be. I never thought I would fall so madly in love with you, that I would do anything to help you or make you smile. After my mom left, I never saw myself married, or having kids, only to abandon them.” Ethan pauses, a few tears spill from his eyes, as he wipes away hers.

“That was until I met you that is. You turned my whole world upside-down, and I am so glad that you did. I refuse to imagine a my life without you in it. You make my life complete. I love you, Anna Blake. My rookie.”

“Ethan…” Anna says, breathless. Ethan gets down on one knee, reaching for something in his coat pocket and he pulls out a small box.

“I bought this for you a month ago.” He says as he flips the lid open. “Anna Blake, I have always loved you, even when I pushed you away, but from now on, I just want to pull you towards me. I want your face to be the first one I see in the morning; and the last face before I fall asleep. I even want kids that are just like you, Rookie. With that said, Anna Blake, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She couldn’t believe what Ethan had just said. So, she wasn’t paying attention to the box, only the man in front of her. When he finished, she finally looked at the ring. It has a simple design, one large diamond in the center and a silver band. She just couldn’t breath, it took her a minute, but she only had one word on her mind,

“Yes.” Her voice was just a whisper, but Ethan heard her. He just wanted to much sure, but before he could ask,

“Yes. Yes. YES! Yes Ethan, I will marry you.” Anna tackled Ethan to the ground, her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Ethan was relieved, he used one arm to prop himself up and held her close with his other arm. After a moment, they pulled back and kissed each other, they channeled all of the love they felt into the kisses. When they pulled apart to breathe, Ethan slid the engagement ring onto her left-hand ring finger.

They heard their phones go off. When they checked the notifications, they saw that Sienna had sent a group text, it read Merry Christmas Everyone! They looked at the time 12:00 am. It was Christmas Day.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan.”

“Merry Christmas Mrs. Ramsey.”

#ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #choices #fanfic #fanfiction

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catracorner962 · 3 years

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The Joke’s On Us: A Glitra Halloween One Shot

One of my favorite Glitra writers @teaandsmut requested this prompt “how about Catra and Glimmer both turn up at a Hallowe'en party as Harley Quinn, with Catra as the classic version and Glimmer as the Birds of Prey version.”

I am happy to oblige!

(Please bare with me I rarely write spicy fics!)

“You know Harley Quinn!” Glimmer pulled on her golden glimmering overalls. “We saw it at the Brightmoon Theatre a few weeks ago, remember?” She squinted at herself in the mirror, trying to redo her pig-tails for the third time that afternoon.

“Oh yeah! That was fun! I thought you meant the girl from Bow’s comics. She has a different outfit though,” Adora answered from across the room.

“That’s the comic book version, the movie is a little different...can you help me with this? I can’t get them to be even,” Glimmer tugged her pig-tails free, scowling. She couldn’t really blame Adora. It’s not like the Horde had comic books or movies or anything. She waited while her friend gently pulled her short hair into two equally short pig-tails and stepped back from the mirror. Admiring the overalls, boots, makeup and bright pink sports bra.

“Not too bad!”

“You look great!�� Bow exclaimed, his own costume was that of Batman. Adora, having absolutely no knowledge of Halloween either tried to just go as She-Ra which Glimmer finally convinced her “didn’t count,” and wouldn’t be a real costume for a costume party. She had finally decided to simply wear the dress she wore to the princess prom but Bow had done her makeup to make her look like a zombie.

“You’re going to love it Adora, Halloween is my favorite holiday!”

A day where you can be someone other than yourself, where you can pretend to be anybody and anything you want. Not a princess, not a one day queen, not a commander….

Glimmer broke into a smile as Bow hugged them close, squealing in excitement.

---

The annual halloween party, similar to Princess Prom, was hosted by a different kingdom each year and all princesses were invited. This year it was Plumaria’s turn to host. Perfuma had outdone herself, with orange and black lights strung from the tree branches, a table of themed snacks, and some weird herbal tea mixture Perfuma insisted tasted good-despite the sickly green color.

The band played music as people danced, whirled around and mingled. Over on the dance floor, Bow was trying to teach Adora how to dance. Somewhat unsuccessfully. Glimmer giggled, making her way over to them. It was easy to breeze through the party in her costume, nearly unrecognizable. Everything seemed easier, when no one could totally tell she was a princess at first glance.

“Hey! Guys, wait..”

“Hey Sparkles, see you copied me.” Glimmer backpedaled away from the person she’d accidentally walked into.

Catra

Glimmer curled her fists, cheeks rising in an angry red hue.

“What are you doing here?”

Catra smirked, raising her brow. A trademark expression that made Glimmer feel like the smallest thing in Etheria. She scrutinized Catra, critically. Her costume was different...but different. Instead of overalls Catra wore a single tight-fitting, totally unflattering body suit. The right leg and arm colored in black, while the alternating sides were red. Diamonds of red and black flanked each side of the suit, contrasting with each color. Her large ears were tucked into a simple matching jokers hat.

“...You’re...you’re Harley Quinn too?! You copied me!” Glimmer glanced around the dance floor, though no one else seemed to notice anything. Even Adora and Bow had gone off to sample the buffett.

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery sparkles,” Catra grinned, small fangs gleaming in the low light. Glimmer groaned in irritation, rubbing her eyes.

Of course, OF COURSE Catra would just show up here and copy my Harley Quinn idea. Of course she would come here just to mock me! I can’t even have halloween for myself and my friends? Why does she have to ruin everything?

“But hey, you look cute,” Catra flicked the zipper of her overalls for emphasis, leaning closer than necessary, tail flicking like she was ready to pounce.

Irritation quickly turned to spite, which turned to anger.

I can’t punch her out here, it would draw too much attention, Glimmer quelled the rising pink sparkles in her fist. Her magic practically bubbling to break free. Plus it will ruin Adora’s day...and this is her first halloween party.

Glimmer grabbed Catra’s wrist tightly, dragging her from the dance floor off beyond the other party goers into the dark of the surrounding forest. Once the music was lost, Glimmer roughly shoved the Force Captain against one of the large trees, pinning her roughly and glaring up at her.

“You’re not welcome here Catra!” Glimmer tightened her grip around Catra’s collar, the little white pom poms bouncing.

“Awe,” she pouted with dejected hurt. “Why not?” Glimmer only rolled her eyes.

“You committed war crimes Catra!”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?’

Glimmer seethed,

“And you copied me as Harly Quinn!”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Catra teased, “sparkle me to death?”

“Don’t tempt me!” Glimmer hissed through grit teeth. Catra’s insufferable smirk only grew, even as she was pinned to the tree. They glared at each other, each minute that ticked by rising heat in Glimmer’s cheeks. Their faces were close, Catra had tipped her chin downward against Glimmer’s elbow, her warm breath grazing across her arm. It made Glimmer’s skin riddle with goosebumps. Despite her obnoxiously calm facade Glimmer felt Catra’s chest rise and fall rapidly.

Why does she have to look so good? Why does she have to show up here like she rules the place and...and ruin everything! I’ll show her! I’ll...I’ll…

“Sparkles?”

“What?!”

“Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?”

“Ha! I’m surprised you even asked!”

Glimmer stood on her tiptoes, closed her eyes, and leaned in, kissing Catra full on the lips. Hungry and angry and oh so sweet. For her part Catra returned the gesture, biting at Glimmer’s lip with a needy noise, winding her arms around the shorter princess’s neck, pulling her deeper in.

She’s...warm...smooth...how is she? Why am I doing this? I don’t even like her….do I?

“I hate you,” Glimmer breathed between incessant kisses. “You…-kiss- can’t even…-kiss-...come up with -kiss- an original costume!” Catra pulled back just for a moment, her warmth ebbing away as she leaned against the tree, but she did not unwind her arms from around Glimmer.

“Oh sparkles, the more we meet the more I’m convinced we’re waaay more alike than either of us would like to admit. Costumes or not.”

“I am nothing like you!”

Before Glimmer could react Catra lunged forward, lithe arms going around Glimmer’s waist and instantly spinning her, pushing her against the rough bark of the tree. The princess let out a startled scream only to be cut off by Catra’s lips once more. She wound her legs around the Horde Scum’s hips, bracing herself. Catra let out a deep throated growl and kissed her deeper, claws nearly sinking into her shoulder. It hurt...but...the pain was only slight and it was welcome. Glimmer reached up, yanking the silly joker cap off Catra’s head and fingering her hands through her wild hair.

“You like that don’t you?” She breathed. Catra answered, pushing her hips flush against Glimmer’s pressing her harder against the tree. She arched in response, holding on to Catra’s shoulders as they continued to kiss. At some point Catra pushed off the straps of her golden overalls, fingers gliding over her bare shoulders. Claws, Glimmer realized...retracted.

I didn’t know she could do that…

Catra stole her from her thoughts once more, kissing her neck, nibbling at her collar bone. Glimmer leaned her head back, laughing with pleasure, holding on by Catra’s hair, tightening her fists and pulling.

“Hmmmm,” Catra growled, one hand sliding up Glimmer’s waist and holding her tightly. She readjusted herself without coming up from the crook of Glimmer’s neck. Thrusting her hips against the princess in a not so subtle ask for more. Glimmer reached around, taking Catra’s chin in her hand and forcing her head back up to look her in the eyes.

“Th...this doesn’t...c..change...anything...I...I...s...still hate you!” She panted. Catra only blinked innocently, taking her hand and licking sensually at her fingers and groaned much more lustful than necessary.

I could stick my fingers down her throat and gag her right here. Leave and go back to the party and let Scorpia or someone find her. Yeah...that’ll show her…

But Catra was already kissing her lips again, ravenously, deliciously. Dominating her in some strange way that Glimmer could not bring herself to refuse. They weren’t themselves after all right? It was Halloween.

She could enjoy this, enjoy Catra..only for the night. No one would have to know. With shining new confidence, Glimmer quickly teleported out of Catra’s hold, and reappeared right behind her. The Horde Scum reeled in surprise, eyes wide with a moment of fright. It sent a quickening through Glimmer, who seized Catra by the shoulders and shoved her down to the forest floor. This time the Horde Scum did not resist. Glimmer straddled her, leering downward into those heterochromatic eyes, glowing in the dark. Voice low and husky, she whispered, making sure to drag her tongue just a little teasingly across the tender pink of Catra’s inner ear.

“My turn, puddin.”

#glitra #glimmer #catra #spop #shera #she ra princess of power #adora #bow #scorpia #perfuma

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

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Tethered

1. ad initio

pairing: steve rogers x f!reader characters: reader, steve rogers, adopted uncle!tony stark, peggy carter, happy hogan, vision word count: 3.4k+ warnings: angst, supernatural events summary: you’ve been told the stories of the fae, of your ancestors and their greed for power; now, centuries later the children of the fae—witches—and all supernatural beings live in peace, the dark history of your world is no more than a memory. but things are about to change with your ascension, and you best be prepared because fate will not be kind to you or those around you. a/n: i know, i know, another series?! i still have some sugar and unrequited, but this series is (soon to be) done and will be posted weekly via the queue! i will make a master post for this series after it’s finished! HAPPY HALLOWEEN YA’LL!

playlist: tethered—as the world falls down

all

You don’t know where this is or why this is where your mind takes you—it’s just dense darkness all around you, nothing like the elaborate spaces your classmates gloated about. Are you not concentrating enough in the physical world? Or did you recite the incantation incorrectly? No. That can’t be it. If you had, Tony would have had you redo it.

Should you move forward? Or stay?—Everyone that’s shared their experience said they walked deeper into their mind’s eye to find their space.

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

Taking a tentative step forward, you feel out the footing—remembering how a classmate of yours had endless staircases that led him to all kinds of twists and turns. Yours could lead to nowhere or straight out of your mind’s eye—something you definitely do not want. You try to reach out with your hands, to grasp something—anything. But all you get is the darkness around you.

Frustration grips you with every slow step you take—it’s taking too long! Would Tony notice if you were lying about connecting with your mind’s eye and ascending? Yes. Yes, he would. He’d be a terrible guardian and Professor otherwise.

You don’t know for how long you walk, but when you feel a gust of air, you pause, only for a moment. Where is that wind coming from? You keep walking, eyes straining to pick out something—light, shimmer, something. The air whistles around you and through the rustling branches; leaves crunch under your feet; rays of warmth settle on your skin; and the sweet and dewy scent of flowers tickle your nose.

There’s a voice, soft and low—accompanied by the gentle sounds of a music box you had once thought a dream—it fills your chest with warmth and your fingers tingle with a strange heat. “There's such a sad love deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel, opened and closed within your eyes, I'll place the sky within your eyes…”

Hello?

There’s a snap, the music and singing coming to a complete halt, the heat you felt simmering. The singer speaks after a pause, disbelief in his voice—that is just as pleasant as his singing. (It’s you. You’re… you’re really here.)

Who are you? you can’t help but ask. Whoever this is—or was—is a figment of your imagination, a piece of your mind’s eye. It isn’t a physical being, but it’s definitely something that’s yours and yours only, and because it’s yours, you want to know what form it’s taken. Your grandfather? Tony? No, they sound nothing alike.

Then who?

(Do you not remember me?) It echoes in the darkness, rustling the leaves harder, the whipping of air tousling your clothes and hair.

His voice is familiar, gripping at your heartstrings and threatening to loosen the hold you’ve strengthened over the years. I don’t. Should I remember you?

Hot air seeps into your head, swirling and moving around your brain—caressing it almost. This feeling… Is this—could it be? Magic? But it’s not yours… Who and what is he to summon magic in your mind’s eye? (Was it their will or yours?)

The longer you take to answer, the hotter and stronger it gets and it sends a shiver up and down your spine. It’s pulling at the seams of your mind, tugging and ripping to get an answer and it hurts. You’re hurting me!

A voice you can barely make out breaks the magical hold on you. You lax, falling onto your knees, hands barely catching your upper body from hitting the ground—wet and ticklish beneath your skin.

(It was theirs.) He comes to the conclusion, his voice softer than before—sad? You don’t understand why you get the sudden urge to reach for him, to find him and hold him even after he’s hurt you with his magic. But the desperation in his voice is enough to trigger something within you.

You hear that voice again—startling you from crawling forward—closer than before calling you—star? No. It’s calling you Starlight. Tony?

(Again, they keep you from me.)

“...light!”

Again? What do you mean again?

You ignore Tony’s voice, eyes straining in the darkness to catch a glimpse of the sad voice. Who are you? you try to sound demanding, but the hold you have on this world keeps shattering with every call of your name and it fills you with fear and sadness.

“Starlight!”

With Tony’s final call, your mind’s eye shatters. The darkness breaks into pieces glittering against the newfound light, brushing against your skin and blowing into your eyes. You grow drowsy, and for one moment, there is golden hair and baby blues catching in the sunlight and burning brighter than any fire you’ve seen. His lips curl into a frown and his voice echoes in the space once more, it takes over every thought, your body laxing and eyes drifting even further. “I'll be there for you as the world falls down.”

“Starlight! Come back, Starlight!”

Your burning eyes fly open as you awake with a harsh gasp of air, body jerking forward into a seated position. Your stomach twisting and turning—ears buzzing with white noise. “Tone—Tony?”

The bright light of the early afternoon is harsh against your eyes, and as your eyes slowly clear, a blurry Tony stands before you.

He’s disheveled, hands gripping your shoulder—squeezing tightly enough for you to wince—a worried expression on his face. Something—something about him is wrong—what—what is it?

He lets out a relieved sigh when your clouded eyes meet his, and he slowly releases you. “You all right kid?”

Creaaaak. Creak. Creaaaaak.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as your eyes take in the greenhouse—your grandmother’s greenhouse—completely destroyed. A couple of potted ferns hanging from the ceiling swing back and forth precariously; hand crafted pots lying on the ground, dirt and clay covering the wooden floors; massacred flowers and torn petals scattered and dumped; Beautiful, old English windows shattered, a few missing from their pane; melting snow dripping down from the broken pieces of ceiling and windows—what is all this? What happened here?

“Starlight?” He calls for you once more, taking your face in his hands and forcing you to look at him. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, we can fix this—“

Ruby red trails down from a harsh cut slanted on his left cheekbone, dirt clings to his face and clothes, his voice almost out of breath as he tries to reassure you—wait. Did—did you do this?

“Tony?” You whimper unsurely, fear gripping at your heart and pulling it down to your stomach—the wind picks up again, the chimes and few pots still hanging from the ceilings creak and swing faster.

“Mr. Stark! Miss!”

It’s a continuous call followed by thundering footsteps coming from the main house. Tony barely pays them any attention, he keeps it all on you, too afraid to look away from you as if you could disappear at any moment.

He swipes at his cheek, smiling gently down at you, but the blood reappears and continues to track down his dirtied face. “I’m okay. It was just an accident, okay? This isn’t your fault. It was mine—“

“Mr. Stark, the ward,” Vision interrupts your uncle, android expressionless but somehow still expressing a wave of concern with his voice.

“We heard an explosion and tried strengthening it, but something is blocking us from,” Happy pauses mid sentence with wide eyes, “—woah, what the hell happened here?”

“Shit!” Tony exclaims in frustration.

You wrap your arms around you, and a sob escapes your lips just as a crackle booms overhead.

“Mr. Stark,” Happy drawls, wide eyes full of worry shifting from the two of you and to the destroyed ceiling of the greenhouse.

Tony’s quick to turn his attention back to you. “Starlight, listen to me,” he begins in an uncharacteristically soft voice, “none of this is your fault, okay?” He grabs your shoulders, shaking you gently. “I forced you to ascend when I knew there were risks.” But you knew the risks too, and you still chose to do it! “I know you’re scared. Everyone is when they first ascend, but I need you to trust me one more time, okay? Hey! Look at me! I need your help to restore the ward—“

“I can’t,” you fret, rocking back on your heels.

“Yes—yes, you can,” he says, growing more desperate.

“What if I do more than destroy the greenhouse?” The air cuts through the space around you, Happy and Vision have to duck and hide under the still intact table in the middle of the room. But Tony stays firmly in front of you, never wavering. “What if—What If I kill you, Tony? I already hurt you!”

Ascensions shouldn’t be this destructful! You shouldn’t have caused any of this! It shouldn’t be possible!

Tony’s mouth hangs open, ready to argue, but a sudden calm falling over the greenhouse stops him, Electric currents fill the room, trickling in from the outside with gentle sparks that land on your skin. The tiny hairs on your arm stand before the warm energy completely dissipates into the air. “Fuck,” he murmurs, and for the first time since you woke up from your ascension, he turns his back on you, pushing you behind him.

“What in bloody hell are you doing!?” A strong voice booms in the greenhouse and Vision and Happy finally poke their heads out from under the table before scrambling—on Happy’s part, mostly—to their feet.

“Aunt Peggy—“

“Don’t you Aunt Peggy me, young man!” You flinch at the volume of her voice. “The amount of energy—it’s unbelievable! What did you do?”

You step out from behind Tony, eyes never raising and instead focusing on your hands. “I’m sorry. I—I asked Tony to teach me how to connect with my mind’s eye—“

She sighs deeply through her nose. “Please tell me you didn't—Tony!“

“Starlight’s lying, Aunt Peggy.” he says, once more blocking you from her—most likely—harsh gaze. “I made her do it.”

“I don’t care who is at fault!” Peggy snaps. “Do you have any idea the effort Fury and I had to go through to hide your little experiment from the other council members when we realized it was coming from this general vicinity? Pierce almost pinpointed where it came from!” You grimace, the thought of that old man showing up at your doorstep with his unnerving smile unsettling you.

A pot creaks and the air crackles with an icy sharpness as it falls to the floor with a loud bang. Tony’s head snaps to you, you jump, and Peggy remains calm, her seething stare remaining on you and Tony, but you ignore them. Harsh tapping steals your attention; a white owl banging at the glass window with its long wings, blue eyes so piercing and somehow… familiar seem to stare right through you.

Do owls usually have blue eyes?

Vision clears his throat and the owl, with one final flap of its wings, flies away in a flurry, and just as it’s gone, the owl pushed from your mind.

“I am terribly sorry to interrupt.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Why don’t you have this conversation inside with a cup of tea? I am afraid it may be too dangerous to stay here any longer.”

“We must send her away! Her ascension—“

“No.”

They’ve been at it since you entered the house, neither of them willing to back down, both making their case and argument loud and clear—completely ignoring the fact that you, Vision, and Happy are in the same room.

“Drink well, Miss,” he advises. “Do not let their fighting affect you.”

Easier said than done, but his words are kind and you do relax, if only a smidge. “Thank you, Vision.”

“She has become unpredictable, Anthony.” You wish she wouldn’t talk about you as if you aren’t in the room—it makes you feel as if your opinion in all of this doesn’t matter. And maybe to her it doesn’t, but to Tony? It does. “Be reasonable for once! We know what Pierce does when he finds a strong magic user, you will be in put on trial and in danger and—“

A loud slam causes you to startle and for Happy to almost drop his cup of tea. Vision remains unaffected as he pours you more of his homemade brew—a completely configured version of the one your grandma used to make.

Tony is standing, eyes leveling Margaret’s harsh gaze. “That is enough, Aunt Peggy!”

“You will not raise your voice at me, Anthony Edward Stark!” A hand rests on her hips as a finger is pointed at him dangerously. “I may be your godmother, but I am still a member of the Council and your elder and you will treat me with respect.”

Her calculating gaze falls on you, brown eyes rich with knowledge and something else—contempt. Since you were a child, you’ve known that she’s never really cared much for you or your mother. You don’t blame her, your mother wasn’t exactly friendly with her and after witnessing what you did to the greenhouse and Tony, you’d be wary of yourself, too.

He steps in front of her, blocking her gaze from you. “If you do anything to Starlight, I swear to you—“

“Tony!” you interject, hopping to your feet and stopping him from saying something he will regret later on. “If she thinks it’s—“

Tony snaps his neck to look at you. Brown eyes rich with anger and worry take in your hunched form and soften. He turns his back to Margaret and in quick strides he comes to a stop in front of you. “You don’t need to go anywhere,” he promises, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I promised to protect you, didn’t I?”

A flash of a younger you and Tony comes to mind—tear stricken you curled up against Tony as he held you tightly, words of comfort shared under a canopy of stars against a dark sky that never seemed to die. “Yeah.”

“And I’m going to keep that promise, okay?”

You nod, feeling a huge weight being lifted from your shoulders at the determination in his voice. Just like back then, you believe him. He would do everything in his power to protect you.

Margaret scoffs. “Protect her? You can barely protect yourself, Anthony!”

Tony rolls his eyes and tilts his head just slightly towards her figure. He’s trying to make you laugh. It almost works.

“May I remind you that I had to strengthen the ward because you couldn’t? She isn’t even of your blood!”

Your heart drops to your stomach, hands gripping the ends of your clothes tightly, practically ripping it. She’s right. You don’t share any blood with Tony, not paternally or maternally, but that doesn’t take away from the fact your mother was his sister, that your mother was your grandparents daughter.

Now she’s being cruel just to be cruel.

And Tony doesn't like that, he stands straight, eyes cutting over his shoulder to look at her. “Neither are you and here you are trying to control us.”

Her face falls, looking stricken by the blow redirected back at her, but she straightens, face growing stoic as Tony continues, “You didn’t give me time to try and fix the barrier. We could’ve done it.”

“Time is not a luxury we have,” Margaret scolds, walking towards the mantle of the fireplace littered with photos of when Tony and your mother were children, and some of you, too. “Your father and Prim were unaware of the power held within your Starlight, and they wanted it to remain that way from everyone,” she says, sharp and unmoving, brown eyes returning to Tony. “Including us. Especially us.”

“Ascending is already a danger all of its own, Aunt Peggy,” he argues. “If I hadn’t helped her, the rest of the Council and the university would have forced her and the rest of the hand few Untapped to do so during the Spring Solstice festivities,” his voice is pleading for her to understand, the fight having left him. “We both know that would’ve been much more dangerous.”

You know he means to say for you… but after seeing what you did earlier just by ascending, how in a moment your powers allowed your emotions to rule them… everyone at the Solstice would have been in danger because of you.

“We could have made something up, child. Freyja has been making charms to cover the fact she hadn’t ascended—it takes years and then some, even with her expertise—“ she pauses, wrinkled face contorting into a grimace. “Her ascension was never meant to happen, Anthony. And you know that.” Her eyes pierce into you, your breath shortening as she asks, “Don’t you?”

“I—“ You do. You do know. You should’ve fought Tony when he said he would help you ascend, but having heard so many stories from old and new classmates and their experiences, you were growing envious that you’d never have that chance for yourself. You wanted to feel what they felt, but you should have known. Should have known that your mother was correct when she warned you it would be too dangerous for you—for everyone.

He moves to stand in her line of vision again, contact being severed between the two of you. “Stop intimidating her.”

“I was only asking a question to which she knows the answer to.”

“I need you to trust me, Aunt Peggy. If only we could find their journals and research all their studies—“

Studies? What studies?

What are they talking about?

She meets your gaze over his shoulder, sighing heavily as she looks away. “Let’s not speak about such… such matters in front of her.”

His back muscles tense for a moment, but then he’s relaxing and sighing, head hanging. “I need to protect her.”

It's quiet, neither of them speaking; Happy comically looking between his boss and the Council member, waiting for the tension to dissolve so he can finally take a sip of his tea and Vision stands dutifully at your side, quiet and alert.

Tony’s muscles are tense, posture rigid with every second that goes by.

Her soft exhale and quiet steps break the silence. She cups his cheek, voice soft and caring, so unlike the words directed at you. “You are just like your parents, Tony. Kind and foolish.” Her hand drops after a moment. “I will ask for Freyja’s and Lady Agatha’s help. Let Nick and Ramonda know. The more hands we have helping the better.”

He relaxes, albeit reluctant. “Thank you, Aunt Peggy.”

“Do not thank me, yet,” she says, adjusting her gloves. “I am still not convinced that keeping her so close to the University and the Council is such a wise decision.” She pauses in gathering her belongings. “The Council will want to find where that surge of power came from, and there’s only so much we can do to keep them from finding it was from her.”

Tony’s eyes are on you, heavy and worried as you move around the destroyed greenhouse.

“If you’re just going to stand there, can you at least clean up the area around you?” you ask of him without turning to look at him, sweeping up the debris.

“Vision said he would clean—“

“I don’t care.”

He sighs. “Starlight.”

You ignore him, busily picking up the ripped flowers with their roots still attached—maybe these you can save, replant and—

A hand attaches itself to your wrists and tugs on you, not harshly but enough for you to drop the flowers back onto the ground where it flops lifelessly, followed by the call of your name. “Stop!” He repeats it, softly this time. “Please, Starlight.”

“I can’t.” You slowly turn to glance at him, eyes soft and pricking with tears. “I’ve destroyed what’s left of her, Tony.” It’s all your fault. “I’ve destroyed it.”

You’d spend hours here, hiding behind the plants, giggling as she swiveled her head here and there whenever you made noise. She always knew where you were, but she’d let you play with a big smile on her face, so loving and caring.

“Come’ere, my little blue bell,” she’d say in that soothing voice of hers, laughing when you’d pop out from behind the Dahlia’s with a sheepish smile. “I’m going to give myself a headache with all of this head turning.”

“Sorry, grandma.”

She’d scoot back into her wicker chair and set down her clippers and flowers on the long table in the middle of the room. “You’re all right, blue bell. Want to help me?”

“Can I?” you’d ask, sitting onto her lap, as if she’d say anything other than, “Of course.”

“I’ve destroyed her. I’ve destroyed everything she left behind,” you weep, eyes meeting his own distressed gaze—red-rimmed and glossy. “I miss her, Tony. I miss her so much.”

He pulls you to him and you cry into his chest.

He might not be saying anything, but his tight embrace, his warmth, and the wetness gathering on your shoulder speak volumes. He misses her too and he knows, no matter what he says to you, nothing will make you feel better.

You’re both standing in uncharted waters without her.

next ( coming: nov 7 || 9 pm pst on AO3)

a/n: ahh I’m so excited to finally share this!

#steve x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #reader insert

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years

Text

Sunday Batfam Fanfic Recs!

Welcome to my second Sunday Batfam Fic Rec list!

Since the first list was such a success, I’ve decided to actually do this weekly! What is ‘this’ you ask?

Easy! Every Sunday I’ll recommend Batfam fanfics of a specific theme. The first week was Batman Beyond/Time Travel, then we had a Spooky Halloween Special and, finally, this week’s theme is…

Billionaire Batfam, Social Media & Galas!

If you want to, you can request a theme and I’ll try to find fanfictions for that!

Here’s my Batfam Fanfiction Rec Tag.

That being said, have fun reading 30 fanfictions and please leave these lovely authors a comment!

Title: #BayneIsCanon Summary: Gotham ships Batman and Bruce Wayne. He's not really sure how to feel about it. #trainwreck #bayne #scandal Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17226011

Title: #gotham is trending Summary: thghhhh: ahhhhh, i'm back in gotham. can't wait to get back to a supervillain attack every other day. i've missed this. [the city of gotham, it's vigilantes, and resident billionaires - as seen through social media] Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331965

Title: (Dance) Lessons Summary: “STOP!” Cass shouted, suddenly appearing between them. “No talking. No fun.” she gave each one a glare. “Only… dancing.” Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205775

Title: (that moment when) A Supehero Replies to You Summary: Dick Grayson, as any good millennial, is an avid fan of Buzzfeed: Unsolved. So, when Shane and Ryan discuss the death of Jason Todd, Dick can't help but laugh. Laugh, and then film the reactions of the batfamily when they find out....in costume. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18561994

Title: a hat fashioned from tin foil Summary: nightwang @karakurachou – 8 hours ago jason todd is alive and faked his death so he could become robin: a conspiracy theory thread. Batfam conspiracy theories meet social media. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356020

Title: and it comes back again Summary: Bruce “I accidentally slipped and fell across the room, took out three tables and broke a desk with your body as I ACCIDENTALLY fell on you also you’re going to jail” Wayne takes his young protégé down the rewarding path of revenge. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14268537

Title: Brother Bear Summary: Dick slips a Disney reference into a speech, Tim only realizes because Jason sneaks into his own memorial gala to finish the quote. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21036350

Title: Bruce got Therapy instead Summary: “I’m twenty four and have yet to find a partner,” Bruce stated, not looking up from the paper. “While true, I hardly think that is a subject to worry over right now. Many people your age have yet to meet someone they desire to spend the rest of their life with.” “It’s...I don’t really have a problem with the fact that I haven’t met anyone.” A pause where Bruce took a contemplative sip of his coffee. Alfred patiently waited for the young man to say what was actually going through his mind. “Well, the Manor seems rather...empty, don’t you think?” He finally looked up to his butler. Alfred fully turned to Bruce, his free hand held behind his back. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what point you’re trying to make, sir.” “I’m thinking about adopting, Alf.” OR: A world in which Bruce Wayne got therapy instead of becoming Batman. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20634062

Title: Chase You Down Until You Love Me Summary: The Waynes make a sport of their high profile in the media during yet another boring gala. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102315

Title: Diversionary Tactic Summary: Jason, from his early days as Robin to his later days as Red Hood, has had a unique skill set. It ends up being weirdly useful and also possibly the grossest way to have a father-son relationship moment, but hey, that’s life. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624390

Title: Favorite Parts Summary: There are things Cass loves about Wayne parties, and things she does not. What she loves most is seeing her Father act himself at those parties. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195331

Title: Gala Night Summary: "What if I use the wrong fork at dinner?" "You won't" "But what if I do?" Bruce arched an eyebrow "Do you seriously think that none of the kids ever used the wrong fork?" [...] Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397771

Title: Getting out of a Gala Summary: In a world where Bruce found Jason closer to nine and his fallout with Dick wasn't that bad, Jason gets forced to attend a gala. Luckily, or unluckily for him, he ends up getting out of it partway through. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968498

Title: Gotham’s Top Ten Memes Summary: Every city has its pride and Gotham isn't different. We love our “dark and gloomy” architecture (meet us in the Batburgers parking lot Metropolis) and our Waynes, our vigilantes and most importantly: Our memes. So, without much further ado, we present you Gotham’s top ten memes. Gotham, the Waynes and the Bats through the eyes of social media. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283281

Title: Happy Little Accidents Summary: Bruce and Lois have a quiet, friendly moment at a gala. Memories of their children make them laugh and cry a little. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176123

Title: Mess with Them Summary: Selina Kyle is at the first gala event a young Jason Todd attends with Bruce. And she knows exactly what he's going through. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559761

Title: Nightmare at the Gala Summary: When an amateur group of bad guys get their hands on fear toxin, they decide to use it on their next big game: the semi-annual Gotham Leaders Family Gala. And lo and behold, your favorite vigilante family just happens to be there too. But without their alter egos, they’re just another helpless rich family with easily kidnap-able kids. Will a frantic, fear toxin induced Bruce Wayne get his head together to save them? Or will he accidentally reveal his family’s biggest secret? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885828

Title: Of Smiles and Broken Things Summary: Tim's first gala isn't going as well as he had hoped, but at least the host is nice. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17899127

Title: Sorrowful and Immaculate Hearts Summary: A DC universe where moms are awesome and raise their kids right. Now with more melanin and queerness. Also, Gotham's in Michigan and Metropolis is in Connecticut. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Fics are in chronological order but are all standalone. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/440926

Title: Stay a Child Summary: “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. [Two times Dick went to a gala with Bruce and one time he didn’t.] Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098102

Title: The Art of the Gala Summary: Barry is the one who usually goes to these things. Unfortunately for Hal, Barry got called in to Central for a case, so now Hal has to go to the Gala with Bruce. Bruce is just lucky Hal loves him so much. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654852

Title: The Bat-Signal Smashing Charity Gala Summary: Spawned from the realization that them making Gordon physically destroy the Bat-Signal at the end of The Dark Knight is absurd and hilarious. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867965

Title: The Bats Out of the Bag (At the Drop of a Tinfoil Hat) Summary: In which Tim is Bruce's secretary, there's a gala, and questions get answered. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18762865

Title: The Gotham’s Wayne Summary: dukeofthomas [We all know who the real QUEEN of the Manor is] The Gothamites are very invested in the Waynes. Very very interested. A journey through the Gotham's favorite family: the Waynes through Social Media. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333119

Title: The Problem with Galas Summary: Galas are an issue, because something always goes wrong, and no one knows this better than Dick Grayson. (It's a bit of a problem, actually, but he can always depend on Bruce to get him out of trouble.) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/906501

Title: The Wayne Deal Summary: Bruce Wayne's parents made a deal, if you do something to make yourself noticed at a Gotham Gala- enough to impress the papers, then they will leave right away. Bruce passes this deal along to the children in his custody.Each one adds their own flair to it. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641559

Title: three bars, one city Summary: The Wayne kids join Twitter. This is widely seen as a very bad move. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172040

Title: Unattended Wards and their Unfortunate Guardians Summary: Roy and Dick are left alone for a couple hours at a gala. How much trouble could two boys possibly cause while unattended? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770661

Title: Wayne Family Tweets, aka Why Bruce Wayne's Hair Is Going Gray Summary: JTW @hottoddie oh okay u hold a totally acceptable grudge for a couple years and suddenly ur “”bitter”” Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387441

Title: Wayne Gala Summary: Alfred teaches the boys how to dance. The girls go shopping for dresses. And it only took three hours into the party for all that effort go to waste. …But that's fine. They were Waynes. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316591

#dc #dc comics #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #Stephanie Brown #batfamrecs

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carryonsnowbaz · 5 years

Note

Literally any of them, but especially like 1, or 11, 55, or 82

“Do you really need all that candy?” Baz asks as he settles on the couch beside Simon, and hands him a mug of hot cocoa.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a holiday, and you should always have candy on a holiday.”

“Christmas isn’t until tomorrow,” Baz says blowing on his drink.

“Christmas Eve is a holiday.”

“How is it a holiday? What do we do on Christmas Eve?”

“We eat candy and wait for a jolly fat man to break into our home even though we know he’ll never show.”

“What?” Baz asks, and for a moment, he wonders whether Simon is drunk. He doesn’t seem like it, though. He just seems to be in an odd movie.

The tv is playing an old Christmas movie, but the volume is turned down low. Simon stares at the screen but doesn’t seem to be actually watching it.

After a long moment, Simon shrugs. “Christmas wasn’t much in the homes, no matter how much I wished that Santa would bring me a nice family to adopt me.”

He says it matter-of-factly, but Baz knows that there are some strong underlying emotions there. He wonders whether to push the topic now or wait until later, and he ultimately decides that he’ll just let Simon enjoy his candy and stop asking questions for now.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will be the day that you find your family.” Baz tries to play it off as just something nice he’s saying to cheer him up, but in all honestly, he had planned on proposing to Simon tomorrow.

He knows that it’s cheesy to do it on a holiday, but he wanted them to share in this present. And if Simon says yes, then he really will get his family. Maybe not the family that he wanted when he was younger, but all Baz can offer him is to be his forever, to love and cherish him for the rest of their days.

“That’s doubtful,” Simon says, taking a long sip of his cocoa.

They fall into silence, and Baz eats the piece of candy that Simon offers him. They don’t say anything for a while as they sit together eating candy and drinking hot cocoa and watching the movie.

Finally, Simon breaks the silence between them when he asks, “What did you mean about the family thing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Baz says nonchalantly with a shrug, but Simon can see right through it.

“I have a confession,” Simon says seriously.

“Is that part of this holiday, too? Confessing things?” Baz is trying to joke, but he feels a little worried.

Simon rolls his eyes and tosses a piece of candy at his head.

“No. I just wanted to let you know the truth about something.”

“Should I be worried?” Baz asks, eyeing him warily.

“Probably not.”

“Alright. What is it?”

“I saw the ring.”

“What ring?” Baz asks, trying to play dumb, but his heart is racing now.

“The ring, Baz. I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was looking for one of your shirts. I kept waiting for you to propose, but it never happened. Now, with the comment about finding a family, it’s easy to infer that you plan on proposing tomorrow.

“Dumbass,” Baz mutters to himself. Why did he leave it somewhere Simon could find it? Why didn’t he wrap it sooner?

“What?”

“Nothing,” Baz says, shaking his head. “The ring was supposed to be a surprise. I wanted it to be special.”

“Just being with you is special, Baz,” Simon says, bumping their knees together, pretending like he isn’t super happy about this. He’s waiting for Baz to actually ask him the question.

“You’re such a sap,” Baz murmurs, but his smile gives him away.

“Says the guy who wanted to propose in ‘a special way’.”

“Do you blame me for that? I’m in love with you, Simon, and I want to give you the world.”

“So, you really are proposing?” Simon asks, setting down his mug.

Baz does the same and turns to face him on the couch.

“Of course, I am. Simon Snow, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Simon practically shouts, pushing the candy off of his lap as he jumps at Baz and kisses him soundly.

Baz laughs into the kiss, ecstatic that Simon said yes.

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow for the ring,” Baz says, barely pulling away long enough to speak.

“That’s fine,” Simon says before kissing him again.

When they pull away once more, Baz says, “And you know we’ll have to redo all of this tomorrow with Penelope, right?”

“Two proposals? Even better.”

“Crowley, I love you so much,” Baz says, pulling Simon closer to him.

“You better, seeing as we’re engaged now.”

Baz rolls his eyes, but he smiles at his fiancé.

Fiancé. He could get used to that. For now, at least. He can’t wait to make Simon his husband.

“Hey, Baz?” Simon whispers.

“Yes, Simon?”

“I’m proud to have you be a part of my family.”

Baz feels his face warm and he kisses Simon again before pulling away long enough to say, “I’m proud to be a part of your family.”

They spend the rest of the night celebrating, and the second proposal on Christmas day is just as good as the first one.

a/n: This was going to be a Halloween fic, but then it turned into a Christmas fic, and then for some reason, it became a proposal fic. Basically, I lost control of this within the first two seconds of writing, but I hoped you liked it!

Also, I put 1 and 11 together in this fic, and I’ll probably write 82 tomorrow because that one will be fun. I haven’t figured out what to do for 55 yet, though.

Prompt List

#snowbaz #snowbaz ficlet #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #rainbow rowell #my fic

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minister-for-femslash · 5 years

Text

The Mother Fish

Summary; After being rescued from the Monster’s possession, Eliot tries to take Quentin on a boat trip but it doesn’t go well.

Pairing; Quentin and Eliot

Word Count; 2,614

Authors Note; For @cldfiredrgn Happy Halloween

Quentin stands on the bow of the Muntjac. The majestic sails flutter in the wind and he grips the rail tight to stop himself from tumbling over the side as the ship flies gracefully through the air.

He stares down at the ocean; the colours move just beneath the surface of the river, blues and reds, and purples. They sway back and forth, swooping left and then right, circling around each other. Like they’re dancing.

There’s the tap, tap, tap of Eliot’s cane against the wooden floor and Quentin turns to face him.

“Hey,” Eliot says. There’s a glassy look in his eye. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“The mating ritual of the cullyral fish. Fen says it only happens once ever fifty years. Plover got it wrong.” Eliot stands next to Quentin and leans over the rail.

He’s a little too careless for Quentin’s liking, swaying from side to side slightly, and in the end Quentin places his hand on Eliot’s arm, just to steady him.

“You see, there -“ Eliot points at a green light emerging from the water, growing larger and larger, as the other fish swim around it - “the mother fish.”

Quentin laughs. “The mother fish?”

“That’s what Fen called it. The mother fish. The other fish flock to her, try to win her affection with their brightly coloured tails, but she’ll only pick one. And she’ll stay with that one fish until the day they both die.”

“That’s… Sweet,” Quentin says.

Eliot lifts his head and looks at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. This is great.” Quentin smiles, but it’s weak, even he knows that and after a moment he allows it to just fall away.

“I thought… I thought you’d like it.”

“I do. It’s beautiful.”

“But?”

“I don’t know,” Quentin sighs. “I guess Fillory’s just lost a little of it’s shine since we found out it was real. This looks amazing, but there’s probably something horrible going on beneath the surface, like the mother fish devouring all of the fish she chooses not to mate with, or something.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Quentin looks over at Eliot. He leans heavily on his cane. His breathing seems laboured and uneven, his shoulders are hunched. His hair messily tumbles down around his face.

“Are you okay?” Quentin asks.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eliot tries to wave him away, but there’s a stutter in his voice and his hand is pressed against his stomach where the axe plunged in.

“No, you’re not.” Quentin wraps his arm around Eliot’s waist, pulls him closer and Eliot immediately leans against him. “Come on.” Quentin leads Eliot away from the railing, and they head inside.

——-

Eliot flops onto the first sofa that they come across and slumps down against the cushions. His skin is unnaturally pale and there’s a heavy sheen of sweat across his forehead.

Quentin kneels down in front of him. He presses his fingers against Eliot’s forehead. He’s warm.

“Jesus, Eliot.” Quentin starts to undo the buttons on Eliot’s shirt. The three at the bottom so that the bandage on Eliot’s stomach becomes visible. There’s a small smattering of blood “We shouldn’t have come. You’re not ready to be out.”

“I didn’t want you to miss the mother fish.”

“Your health is more important. This wound is serious, Eliot. You could’ve died.” Quentin grabs one of the bags he managed to hurriedly pack before they left; the one he stuffed full of medical supplies. He takes out a bandage and a packet alcohol free antiseptic wipes.

He slowly peels back the bandage on Eliot’s stomach. There’s blood on Eliot’s skin, and Quentin’s not sure but he thinks that some of the stitches have popped.

He takes an antiseptic wipe and begins to clean away the blood. He keeps his touch gentle, almost delicate and he can feel Eliot staring down at him, watching him closely. His mouth feels dry.

“It’s one of your favourite parts of the Secret Sea. When Jane and Rupert get lost in that little dingy and the light from the mother fish’s tail lights the way for them. I just… I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You have.”

“I’m sorry.” Eliot reaches down and clasps Quentin’s hand. “I just wanted…” Eliot’s head slumps to the side. His eyes close for a few seconds, then open and they’re still glassy. Then they close again.

“Eliot, have you taken something?”

“Just some painkillers. I wanted to… I wanted to show you…” Eliot’s breathing becomes deep. He’s asleep.

Quentin takes the clean bandage and gently places it over Eliot’s wound. It’s self-sticking and Quentin runs his fingers along the edges just to make sure it’s secure.

He quickly redoes the buttons on Eliot’s shirt and then pulls it down slightly, covering up Eliot’s stomach again.

He heads to the heart of the Muntjac and asks her (nicely) if they can turn around and head back to Castle Whitespire. She must understand because they immediately make a hard left. He thanks her and heads back to Eliot, who has slumped further into the sofa.

He takes Eliot’s shoulders and slowly lowers him down onto the sofa. He removes Eliot’s boots and brings his legs up. There’s a cushion, which he tucks under Eliot’s hand. Eliot immediately curls into it, gripping it tight.

Quentin takes off his jacket and gently drapes it over Eliot.

-----

Eliot spends the next twenty four hours in bed. Margo sends the official doctor to Castle Whitespire to check on him, but when he marvels at the stitches on Eliot’s stomach, as if he’s never seen anything like it before, Quentin decides Eliot needs somebody better.

He sends a bunny to Julia and then waits. Fifteen minutes later the same bunny returns, this time with a message for him.

“Incoming,” the bunny croaks. “Incoming.”

Quentin leans down. “What?”

“Hey dude.”

Quentin spins around and sees Penny standing in the middle of the throne room, with Professor Lipson clinging tightly onto his arm. She has her medical kit with her.

“Julia said Eliot needed us,” Penny says.

“Yeah, thanks for coming so quickly.”

Penny shrugs his shoulders. “No sweat. What do you need?”

“Actually -“ Quentin turns to Professor Lipson - “I was hoping you could check on Eliot. He tried to go out yesterday and it didn’t go well.”

“He went out.” Professor Lipton shakes her head, in obvious frustration. “Where is he?”

“In his room, I’ll show you.” Quentin heads out of the throne room with Professor Lipson following just behind.

“Cool, I guess I’ll just wait here then,” Penny says.

Quentin quietly knocks on Eliot’s door. There’s no response. Eliot might be asleep, so Quentin slowly opens the door and the light from the nearby window falls across his face. The quilt is wrapped tightly around him, almost like a cocoon, the pillow tucked underneath his head.

Quentin steps inside. He keeps his footsteps light, almost tiptoeing over. He delicately sits on the edge of the bed and softly shakes Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot stirs gently, his eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile appears on his face as he stares up at Quentin.

“Hey.” Eliot brushes the hair away from his eyes.

“Hi. Sorry to wake you, but Professor Lipson is here to see you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Eliot starts to lift himself up. His arms shake and he struggles slightly. Quentin puts his hands on Eliot’s shoulders and helps to lift him up, placing a pillow behind his back so he can prop himself up.

“Better?” Quentin asks.

“Yes, thanks.”

Professor Lipson is standing in the doorway, her kit bag clutched tightly in her hand.

“I’ll be right outside,” Quentin says.

-----

Quentin paces outside of Eliot’s room; up and down, up and down the corridor. Professor Lipson’s check up doesn’t take as long as he’s expecting, and fifteen minutes after he left the room, Professor Lipton does as well.

“How is he? Is it bad?” Quentin asks.

“Of course it’s bad. He was stabbed in the gut, with an axe, and because I couldn’t use magic to heal him, he needs a lot of care and a lot of bedrest. He really needs to be back at Brakebills, under my care. But if he really wants to stay here, then he needs to stay in bed, not go traipsing around on boats.”

“I know. We were just…” Quentin sighs, because he isn’t exactly sure what they were doing and even if he did, he’s not sure it would be a good enough reason.

“Okay. Well, he did pop a couple of stitches, but it’s nothing to be too concerned about. Just keep changing his bandages and if he needs something for the pain give him two of these every four to six hours-“ she hands Quentin a pill bottle - “and not whatever he’s been taking. It’s important.”

“I understand. I’ll take care of him.”

“I know you will.” She touches his arm and for a moment Quentin remembers her standing on that roof, and then she pulls back, and he forces the memory away.

“While it’s nice to finally see a piece of Fillory, I need to be getting back to Brakebills.”

“Sure, yeah. Hopefully Penny stuck around.”

They head back to the throne room and Quentin feels a little relieved and more than a little surprised to see Penny still there, sitting on Margo’s throne.

“All done?” Penny asks.

“Yeah, we’re done,” Quentin replies.

“Good.” Penny jumps to his feet and holds out his hand for Professor Lipson. “Shall we get going?”

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Quentin says.

“No big. I’ve come to accept my role as the group’s resident taxi service.”

“Sorry.”

Penny sighs. “It’s cool. Well, no it isn’t but Julia asked so here I am.”

“How are you and Julia?”

“We’re good. She misses you. You should, I don’t know, come and visit or something. When Eliot is feeling better.”

“I will.”

“Cool, see you around, I guess.” Penny takes Professor Lipson’s hand and the two of them disappear.

Quentin hovers in the throne room for a moment, almost dancing from foot to foot as he decides what to do next. Part of him wants to go and check on Eliot - a large part of him - but another part of him wants to let Eliot sleep.

He tries to read for a bit; the Wandering Dune, his favourite of the Fillory and Further books, but he can’t focus on the words. He ends up walking aimlessly through the corridors of Castle Whitespire, and in the end he does what he was always going to do and heads to Eliot’s room.

He knocks quietly. There’s no response and he knows that he should walk away, leave Eliot to sleep. But he doesn’t. Instead he slowly opens the door.

Eliot is awake.

He’s still propped up against the pillow. His head is down, his hair tumbling down around his face. The room is dark. The curtain now drawn so there’s no light from the window.

“Eliot,” Quentin says.

Eliot quickly looks up and Quentin can see what he thinks are tear stains on his cheeks.

“Hey.”

“Is everything…” Quentin stops. “Are you okay?”

“When am I not okay?” Eliot smiles. It’s wides and full, but also empty and a little hollow.

“When you’ve been stabbed in the gut with an axe.”

“That was nothing.” Eliot gives a dismissive wave of his hand.

Quentin hovers by the door. “Do you need anything? Water or soup or something?”

“No. I’m okay.”

“Okay.” Quentin takes a breath. “I’ll let you get some rest.” He turns to leave.

“Have you been reading?” Eliot asks, pointing to the book in Quentin’s hand.

He hadn’t realised he was still holding it. “Yeah, just a little.”

“It’s your favourite.”

“Yeah. I love the part where the elves race down Mount Ardey.”

“Yeah, it’s good. We could… We could go and see it, if you wanted. I could ask Fen, I’m sure she knows when it happens.”

“We can go when you’re feeling better,” Quentin replies.

“Oh, okay.” Eliot seems to visibly deflate, sinking down into the pillow. “Sure, I understand.”

“Eliot, it’s important for you rest.”

“I know.”

Quentin doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Eliot asks.

“What?”

“You wanted to go on a boating quest, with me. You wanted to go with me, and I said no. I should’ve said yes.”

“You had to stay. Margo needed you.”

“I should’ve said yes,” Eliot whispers.

“Eliot, what are you…” Quentin sighs. He drops his book onto a nearby table and walks over to Eliot. “Talk to me. Please. Something’s wrong and I think you should talk to me.”

Eliot hesitates and for a moment Quentin thinks he’s going to say no. To say no and send him away. But Eliot doesn’t.

“I should’ve said yes.”

“Eliot…”

“But I didn’t. I just… I was afraid and so I did what I always do when I’m afraid. I ran away. I’m sorry. But I promised myself. I promised you that if I ever got out of there, if I was ever me again that I would be, I don’t know, braver. Or maybe just brave. And I’m trying, Q, I’m really trying. I want to be the person you spent fifty years with. I want to be the person you… I want to be that person. Because you’re right, we work. We worked then and we can work now. I just have to be brave. Please, I want to be brave.”

Quentin doesn’t say a word. He holds his breath and stays perfectly still while Eliot speaks. He doesn’t know how to reply, not because he had nothing to say but because he doesn’t know where to start.

He drops down onto the bed and runs his hands through his hair, once and then twice. His mind is swimming. Eliot spoke so quickly, almost like he was trying to get the words out as fast as possible, which Quentin understands, but it’s left him with a lot of information, and nowhere near enough time to think it all through.

“You still want that, don’t you?” Eliot asks.

“I just want you to be safe, and well,” he says and then immediately winces because he knows that it’s not enough. That this is a moment that matters. “You were lost for so long. I thought I was never going to see you again, that the last time I would see your face it wouldn’t be you behind your eyes. When my dad died, you were the only person I wanted to talk to because you’re the person that I spent my life with. You and Arielle.”

“But I wasn’t there.”

“You’re here now. That’s the most important thing, don’t you see that. I don’t care about boat quests or cullyral fish or racing elves. I care that you’re here and you’re alive.”

“I don’t want us to lose anymore time because I’m afraid.”

“We have all the time we need.” Quentin reaches out and takes Eliot’s hand.

“So you still… You still love me?”

“Do you really think I stopped?”

Eliot smiles, a real one this time. He shifts over on the bed, leaving a space next to him. Quentin shrugs off his shoes and then lies down. He shuffles around to get comfortable and when he finally settles Eliot’s arms wrap around him. Quentin snuggles into Eliot’s chest and the two of them sink into each other in a way that is so familiar and so natural despite how long it’s been.

Together, they sleep.

#hkf trick or treat #The Magicians #Quentin Coldwater #Eliot Waugh #queliot #Quentin/Eliot #fic

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asleepinawell · 6 years

Text

Things That Go Bang In The Night

Shoot Haunted House fic for halloween, except not really scary at all and mostly silly. Arranged as a series of shorts, or incidents as the case may be.

Based very loosely in my chaos au, but the only thing you need to know is it’s post-samaritan and shoot are a firmly established relationship at this point.

_________________

Nighttime Disturbances

John is cooking an aggressive amount of pancakes when Root comes downstairs. Root looks at the heaping plates full of breakfast food on the counter of the surprisingly modern kitchen and then at the dark circles under John's eyes and manages not to laugh. She does, however, smile ever so slightly and John's eye twitches just a fraction.

Shaw is the next to show up, wearing a shirt Root thinks might actually belong to her, but the mutual clothing-theft has gotten to the point where it's basically irrelevant. Shaw looks at John and John glares at Shaw and Shaw smirks for all she's worth. She takes two overflowing plates of pancakes, tucks a bottle maple syrup in the crook of her arm and secures a seat for herself at the big stone table in the kitchen. She looks at her plates for a few seconds and then shuffles the pancakes around with a fork until all but three are on one plate. The smaller helping gets pushed over in front of Root.

By the time John joins them at the table, Shaw has eaten half her pancakes, but she still eyes the plate of bacon and eggs he has. He puts a protective arm around his plate before he starts in.

Root waits until he’s drinking his orange juice before asking, innocently, “Did you sleep well, John?”

She's disappointed when he doesn't spit out his drink, but he does scowl at her around his glass.

Fusco shows up before John can answer and collapses into a vacant chair.

“Boy, when you said this place was haunted, you weren't joking.”

Root does not smile even a little bit. Shaw stuffs more pancakes in her mouth, a look of intense concentration on her face. On the other side of the table, John is grimacing.

Fusco doesn't seem to notice. “Creaks and bangs all night and ghostly moans. I don't think I got a wink of sleep.”

Root adjusts the collar of her shirt a little and she sees John's eyes narrow when he focuses in on the movement.

“Maybe we should attempt an exorcism tonight,” he says. “Pour some cold holy water all over the ghosts when they start being a nuisance.”

Fusco's forehead wrinkles in confusion. “I thought that was for vampires.” He gets up to investigate the pancake situation. “You really cooked a lot of these, huh?”

“I had trouble sleeping. For some reason.”

Root is done with her breakfast, but Shaw's still going strong. Root watches her stuff her cheeks like a squirrel preparing for winter.

“You two hear anything?” Fusco asks.

Root pretends not be watching John out of the corner of her eye. “Not that I can recall.”

“Funny. It was really loud. I was scared out of my mind. Spent the whole night pointing my gun at the door.”

“Do bullets even work on ghosts?” Shaw asks, her mouth momentarily pancake-free. “Silver bullets maybe?”

“That's werewolves,” Root corrects and Shaw shrugs as if defense against the supernatural is not an extremely important topic.

“I'm sorry we missed the excitement,” Root says. “I rather enjoy things that go bump in the night.” The eyebrow waggle might be a little too much, but she can't help herself.

John stands up, maybe just a little too fast.

“I'm going to go explore the rest of the house.”

_________________

Cleaning out the Attic

“Still don't see why we have to do this,” Shaw grumbles after she recovers from another sneezing fit. Everything here is covered with a thick layer of dust and it feels like her lungs are full of it, and Root has it even worse with the sneezing and itchy eyes. What a dumb mission.

“She thought it would be nice for all of us to get out of the city for a few days,” Root calls from the other side of the room. The boxes here are stacked high enough that Shaw can't see her over them.

“She could have given us an actual vacation then, not digging through moldy paperwork in a drafty old house in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

Root pops her head around the nearest stack of boxes. There's dust in her hair, a grey smudge across one of her cheeks, and she's wearing a shirt with an overly cute little ghost on it that says 'hey boo-tiful’. Shaw shouldn't think she looks hot like that. She blames it on the boredom. And on the glasses which she knows Root doesn't need for this but she's wearing anyway as some sort of attack on Shaw's sanity.

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, sweetie?” Root's practically leering at her now which looks really dorky with her wearing that shirt.

Shaw drops a stack of paper onto the floor and brushes her hands off. “We can do that anywhere. Preferably somewhere warmer with room service.”

“But we'd be missing out on the added bonus of messing with the boys.” Root prods the stack of papers. “Nothing in these?”

“Not unless she's interested in a detailed hand-written accounting of how much it costs to redo the roof like eighty years ago.”

Root taps her lower lip with one finger. “Hmmm.”

“You can't be serious.”

Root shrugs helplessly. “She says you never know what She might need some day.”

Shaw has been basically over the Machine's new data collecting obsession since it started three months ago. She can acknowledge that there is a ton of information and history out in the world that's never been digitized and that some small fraction of it might help the Machine help humanity, but this is ridiculous.

The Machine can hardly rely on just them to dig up every paper document in the city, let alone in the world, and Shaw suspects she has a lot of people working for her without them realizing what their employer is. They get sent on occasional random missions though, most of which are horribly dull and involve a lot of sorting through paper and not a lot of knee-capping.

“If she really is going to want every single piece of paper in this house, she should say that and we can get a bigger van and just cram everything in there and let someone else sort it out.” Shaw has Claire still working on scanning in the thousands of pages from their last little trip, and that had been months ago.

“Afraid that's not the mission, Shaw.” Root prods the half-full box in front of Shaw meaningfully with one long finger. “And how often do you get to stay in one of the most haunted houses on the east coast?”

“I'd think New England would be lousy with the things.” Shaw takes in Root's expression, gauging her options. She knows she can get out of this, but she's got to approach it the right way. “Anyway, it's not like we've seen any ghostly activity here. Scariest thing to happen was that kale disaster Reese made for dinner last night.” Reese is a decent enough cook, but there are sometimes lapses in his judgment.

“Maybe we'll get lucky and see something spooky tonight since John exiled us to the east wing. It's supposed to be where most of the haunting has taken place historically.”

Reese had half-ordered, half-begged them to move to the other wing, and while Shaw doesn't take orders from him, she’s decided to be merciful. Most rooms in the house are huge and empty which lends it some interesting acoustics and, well, Root never was much of one for keeping quiet. Which brings Shaw back to her current mission to get out of sorting papers.

“You know,” Shaw says, shifting her weight to move herself a little closer to Root, “we could get lucky right now.”

The Machine must really want these damn papers because Root actually hesitates, but Shaw knows Root has no defense against a smooth come-on like that. She bites her lower lip (an unfair move) and sees Root's already-weak defenses crumble away in a flash.

“Attics are notoriously haunted,” Root says thoughtfully. “Might as well give this one a reputation.”

There's paper carpeting the attic floor by the time they're both worn out, some of which the Machine is probably going to yell at them for irrevocably damaging, but it's so worth it.

Root rolls over in the nest of scattered papers, looking for her shirt, and picks up a paper instead.

“This is about that kid that died here.” Root hands the paper over to her. “He was found drowned in a bathtub in the east wing. Everyone suspected his older sister, but no one could ever prove it.”

Shaw looks over the paper. It's got a clipping from a newspaper attached to it talking about the death of some kid called Phillip. She vaguely remembers Root talking about the whole thing on the drive up here. Supposedly the kid's ghost haunts the house and grounds and once drowned a gardener in one of the fountains on the lawn.

“Does the Machine care about stuff that's clearly just superstition?”

Root gets up and pulls her shirt back on, much to Shaw's disappointment. “She cares about how humans react to death and grief and fear, so in that sense, yes.”

“What about you? Do you believe in ghosts, Root?” Shaw teases.

“No.” Root smiles, but it's one of those hard, cold smiles, not one of the happy ones. “Ghosts tend to haunt people who wronged them during their life, right?”

“I guess?” She thinks there's something with loved ones getting haunted too, but she's hardly an expert on these things.

“If anyone was going to have been haunted…” Root trails off and shrugs. “So the odds are against them existing.”

Shaw rolls her eyes, because of course Root's ego would dictate that if she hasn't seen a ghost no one could have.

Root offers her a hand up off the floor. “What about you, Sameen?”

“Most things people take to be ghostly activity can be explained by quantifiable, scientific means. People are always blaming things they can't explain on the supernatural. It's lazy.”

Root grins and leans in so her face is right near Shaw's. “So what will you do when the ghost of little Phillip comes wailing down the hall to drown you in the tub?”

Shaw headbutts her gently in the face. “Any ghost shows up, I'll punch its ethereal teeth in, okay?”

Root backs up, clearly amused, and then glances around at the mess they'd made. “I think we should try the library. We can let Lionel finish up with the attic.”

“He'll love that.” Shaw hasn't been looking forwards to cleaning up the mess they made. She looks around the paper-covered floor one last time and then follows Root back down into the main house.

_________________

The Face in the Fountain

It's cold outside and Root wishes she'd brought a jacket, but the house and grounds are so large that going back for one would take at least twenty minutes. It might be worth it, except she's really tired and doesn't want to budge from the edge of the fountain she's perched on. The house has an unfortunate number of steps and she's been lugging boxes up and down them for the last day.

From out here she's got a pretty good view of the entire house. It's a massive thing, built out of grey and brown bricks with dark, empty windows lining every side. There's two distinct wings coming off the main house: the west wing which juts out onto the front lawn at a right angle from the rest of the house, and the east wing which, inexplicably, does the reverse and sticks out into the woods behind the house.

The front lawn has a few pathways across the overgrown grass, all in poor repair, and a handful of crumbling, ornamental fountains full of brackish water, including the one Root's sitting on. The back lawn has what was once a hedge maze but is now an impassable wall of brambles that the forest is hurrying to reclaim.

Shaw is running laps around the front lawn. Root figures she's working out the frustration of being stuck here for a week with no one to shoot. Shaw pauses next to the fountain on her next lap.

“You don't have to wait for me out here if you're cold.”

“I don't mind.” There's no easy way to watch Shaw work out back in the city, but here she can watch the full length of every lap Shaw runs and discreetly take pictures with her phone.

“Probably shouldn't stay by these things too long anyway.” Shaw peers into the murky water in the fountain with distaste. “Who knows what sort of shit's growing in there.”

Root looks in as well, but other than a distorted reflection of herself she can't see much.

“Maybe breathing in spores from whatever's growing in this toxic sludge is where all the ghost stories come from in the first place,” Shaw says. She drops a large rock in and it vanishes below the surface with a sploop noise. Ripples run across the surface of the water further distorting Root's reflection and stirring up the mud from the bottom. Something moves in the murky depths.

Root jerks back from the water and falls off the edge of the fountain to land on the ground.

“Root?”

Shaw looks at her like she's gone nuts and Root takes a second to get her breathing back under control before she answers.

“I didn't want to get splashed.” She gets back to her feet and tries to brush the dirt off, but the lawn was still damp from the rain last night so her pants are pretty much hopeless.

“It didn't even splash.” Shaw peers at the water as if she's expecting to find some other cause.

Root keeps her distance from the fountain. “We should head back inside and get changed before dinner.”

“Guess so.”

Root resolutely doesn't look back as they head up to the house for dinner. She knows it was just her imagination combined with reading stories of this place, but she can't quite shake the image of a corpse-pale face floating under the water, it's glassy eyes opened wide and staring at the sky.

_________________

The Face in the Fountain (continued)

They eat all their meals in the kitchen because the dining room is enormous, dusty, poorly lit, and even Shaw can admit it's a bit creepy. The kitchen is more than large enough and one of the few mostly clean rooms in the house. It should be a nice, friendly team dinner, but Fusco is exhausted and freaked out from the ‘ghost activity’ the previous evening, Reese is still sulking, and Root has been quiet since they came in for dinner. Shaw isn't sure what's up with her, but she figures it's nothing Root's going to open up about with the other two here.

After dinner they have to get their bags from their rooms to move to the east wing. Shaw brings a flashlight along since the electricity here seems to have a mind of its own and the wiring in the east wing is supposedly even worse. She thinks about calling the whole thing off and staying in the west wing, but she knows she'd get shit from Reese about being scared of ghosts if she did.

She briefly reconsiders again though because Root is still acting weird and making sure Root is okay is more important than not being teased by Reese, but Root doesn't seem to have any issue with switching wings. Still, she knows something is still up because Root doesn't hit on her once during the walk over and she's being all jumpy. Maybe she should have brought Bear along after all.

The rooms here are larger and probably had been nicer once upon a time, but now they're mostly dusty and full of covered furniture. The cleaning service the Machine had sent here ahead of time had salvaged a few bedrooms in both wings so there's a few habitable ones the choose from. Root opts for the smallest and Shaw doesn't argue because the rooms here are unreasonably large.

She waits until they climb into bed for the night before she tries to get an explanation out of Root.

“You've been quiet.”

Root murmurs something in response but it's muffled by her pillow. Shaw speaks evasive-Root-tactics well enough by this point that she can figure out by the pitch of Root's voice that she's brushing off the question. Shaw might have pushed further normally, but she's tired from lugging boxes of papers up and down stairs all day so she settles for rolling over closer to Root and dropping her arm over her. Root puts her hand over Shaw's and settles in.

Shaw isn't sure what wakes her up in the middle of the night, but she's suddenly wide awake and Root isn't next to her anymore. An unnecessarily dramatic flash of lightning from outside shows her that the other half of the bed is empty.

She figures Root probably just went to the bathroom, but the whole creepy house situation seems to merit her checking just in case. The bathroom is empty and Shaw stops back in her room to grab a flashlight before looking any further. Root took her slippers with her, she notes, so it wasn't like she ran out in a panic.

There's only a few places in the house they've all spent any amount of time in. She knows Root wouldn't go to the library since the extreme amount of dust there had caused her the sneezing fits that had sent them outside earlier that day. She wouldn't have a reason to go back to the room they'd stayed in previously, and a quick check of the main entrance hall has it full of shadowy corners but empty of Root. So that leaves the kitchen.

Root's sitting on the counter in the dark eating ice cream out of the container. Her hair is back in a messy ponytail and her bunny slippers are on her dangling feet. Shaw admits that she's maybe a tiny bit relieved by the sight even though she hadn't really thought anything bad had happened.

“I couldn't sleep,” Root says by way of explanation.

There's another flash of lightning outside followed by a peal of thunder and then it starts pouring. Raindrops hammer on the windows.

Root's face lights up in glee.

“Thunderstorm in a haunted house. Another item to cross off the bucket list.”

At least she seems to be in a better mood now even if she is working her way through their entire supply of ice cream. Shaw tries to rescue the remains of the pint, but Root loops her stupidly long legs around her and traps her there up against the counter. Root holds a large spoon of ice cream up and pushes it at Shaw’s face and no way is Shaw letting herself be fed like a child even if it is ice cream.

She ends up with ice cream smeared across her face before she escapes from Root's hold. The whole thing is extremely undignified and she's glad Reese isn't here to see it. She might discreetly wipe the remaining ice cream off her face with one hand and then lick it off her fingers, but there's no proof.

“Are you done now?” she asks, still indignant, but somewhat mollified by the delicious chocolate goodness.

Root evaluates her almost empty ice cream carton. “I suppose so.”

The ice cream goes back in the fridge and they walk back together by the light of Shaw's flashlight. Root seems okay now, but Shaw is still curious about earlier. She doesn't like it when she doesn't know why Root's upset, and if she doesn't find out what caused this round how can she prevent it next time?

“Did you see something when we were outside?” she asks as they cross the entrance hall. “In the fountain?” That's when this had started.

Root makes a small hmph noise. “Ghosts aren't real.”

“You saw a ghost out there?”

“Obviously I couldn't have since they're not real.” Root's tone is a bit condescending which Shaw takes as an improvement.

“Sure, but there could have been a dead animal or who knows what else in there. We can go take another look tomorrow if you want.”

“Yes, maybe that's just the thing.”

The way Root says it is maybe a bit ominous, but Shaw is glad enough that Root’s in a better mood that she doesn't read into it too much.

The next morning Root is already up and gone when Shaw wakes up. Shaw heads down to the kitchen and after a few very pointed hints from Reese makes a detour to the front lawn.

There is a huge truck parked on the front lawn. And a bulldozer.

Definitely suspicious.

Shaw goes back inside and gets coffee before investigating further because asking her to deal with Root's shenanigans without caffeine is cruel. When she gets over to the truck she sees some workers have a huge black hose running into the fountain Root had been sitting on yesterday and are draining it. Root stands nearby watching over the proceedings.

“When I said we could take another look…” Shaw trails off.

Root beams at her. “It was a great suggestion, so I figured I'd get right on it.”

“Right.”

The workers at the fountain wave them over. One of them points at something in the bottom of the drained basin. Shaw goes over to look and there, nestled in the wet weeds and filth, is the most repugnant looking baby doll she's ever seen. It's face is ghostly white and cracked and its glossy black eyes are wide and gaping like a fish's. If there'd been hair on it once it’s long gone now and most of the body is crushed.

“This what you saw yesterday?” Shaw can understand why seeing that bob up under the water might be disturbing, especially given the setting and the whole gardener-drowned-in-the-fountain story.

Root has a nasty glint in her eyes. “Unimportant now.”

She steps back from the fountain and waves an arm at the woman driving the bulldozer. Shaw sees where this is going and retreats to a safe distance. She'd ask Root if destroying the fountain is strictly necessary, but she already knows the answer she'd get and anyway Root just looks so pleased with herself and it's kind of endearing.

It's a weird sort of morning, she thinks. She's standing on the lawn of a haunted mansion wearing her boxers and a hoodie and Root's bright pink flip flops and drinking coffee out of a mug with a cartoon penguin on it. Root's next to her watching the bulldozer demolish the fountain with a look of intense satisfaction on her face. Her clothing situation isn't much better, though she at least managed to put on pants. She's got a new shirt Shaw hasn't before yet that says ‘ghouls just wanna have fun’ on it (Shaw is sensing a theme here) and an oversized flannel that Shaw thinks she might have stolen from one of their recent numbers and is barefoot much to Shaw's horror.

“Can I have a sip of that?” Root asks as the bulldozer backs up to make another pass at the ruined fountain.

“No,” Shaw says and hands her the mug.

“Thanks, Sameen.”

_________________

The Monster in the Conservatory

Fusco is red-faced and out of breath when he comes running into the lounge.

“It's...it's in the…” He pauses panting for breath.

Root waits politely for him to finish. Or leave. She's not picky.

“In the conservatory,” Fusco manages to get out.

Root sets down the ornamental dagger she's been considering accidentally acquiring for herself. “What is?”

“M-monster.” Fusco collapses into a mildewed arm chair.

Shaw peeks around the door frame from the next room. “What sort of monster?”

“Big...angry…teeth…”

“Evil dentures in the greenhouse sounds like a John problem,” Root says and ducks down to open the cabinet under the table.

“I want to fight the monster,” Shaw says. Her tone allows for no arguments.

Root can't not watch that so she gives up on robbing the place and follows Shaw. They pick up John from the smoking room along the way and head, not to the main entrance to the conservatory, but upstairs to the walkway entrance.

The conservatory is relatively newer than the rest of the house, a two story greenhouse built out of thick sheets of glass to let the sunlight in. There's a walkway on the second level of it that's accessible via a small staircase in the conservatory or an actual door from the second floor of the main house.

Shaw pauses as they near the door and reaches behind one of the creepy statues that line the hallways to pull out...a sniper rifle.

Root is impressed and slightly turned on. Maybe more than slightly. She wonders how many guns Shaw has hidden all over the house now.

“Let's see what this monster is,” Shaw says and pushes the door open.

The air inside smells awful, like rotten plants and soil and Root wrinkles her nose in disgust. Left untended, everything in the conservatory has either died or spread out to overtake all the other plants. There's vines and small trees below them and it looks a little like a jungle.

Shaw holds a finger up to her lips and then drops down to her hands and knees on the metal walkway to peer down into the forest below. Root looks over the edge of the railing, but nothing catches her eye. Maybe Fusco was imagining things.

Shaw smacks her on the leg and points and sure enough there's some leaves and branches rustling in the far corner. At first Root thinks it must be a squirrel, but it's pretty clearly something much larger. Maybe a deer?

All three of them watch the greenery closely as the shaking foliage gets nearer and nearer to the center of the room. Their quarry bursts out of the leaves and raises its large face to gaze up at them and sniff the air.

“Not a monster after all,” Reese says as they watch their new companion yawn hugely and show off its massive teeth and pink tongue.

“She's beautiful,” Shaw says softly, her voice full of wonder that's usually reserved for dogs.

Root isn't sure ‘beautiful’ is the word she'd use for the massive black bear munching on things in their house, but Shaw's obvious delight is adorable. Root, however, now feels totally justified in her previous caution about bears as those teeth are very large and its paws look impossibly huge. She's glad they're up high.

“There's a broken pane in the back,” Reese says. “She must have wandered in looking for food.”

Shaw frowns. “I hope she didn't step on any of the glass. Maybe we should check…”

Root is about to ask just how she plans to do that, but John seems to be one step ahead of her.

“We are not tranqing the bear, Shaw.”

Shaw actually pouts, lower lip stuck out like a child.

“But she might be hurt.”

They all watch the enormous bear stand up on its hind legs to rip a branch off a little tree. The walkway is high enough that she couldn't ever reach them, but it's still intimidating.

Shaw sighs. “Fine.” She sits down with her legs dangling over the side. Root figures she's staying until the bear gets safely away. She's torn between wanting to stay and watch Shaw watch the bear and going back to investigate the possibility of further fancy weaponry in need of a new owner.

Staying with Shaw wins out easily in the end. They sit side by side with their legs hanging off the walkway watching the bear snort and huff its way around the floor. Shaw's theory is there was some sort of fruit tree or berry bush down there and the bear is searching the ground for leftovers. Shaw takes the scope off her rifle so she can watch it close up.

After about an hour, the bear must run out of food because it lumbers back out the broken pane (Shaw watches with concern) and back into the woods at the edge of the property.

“I hope she's okay.”

“She'll be fine, Sameen.” It's sweet the way Shaw worries about some things so much, often things (people, animals) that no one else seems to care about. “Should we rip your clothes a bit and mess up your hair so we can tell Fusco the tale of your epic battle against the greenhouse monster?”

“No clothes ripping.”

Root could say several somethings about the hypocrisy of that, but she doesn't want to discourage Shaw from future over-enthusiastic clothing removals.

“We should make it look good though,” Shaw says and offers her a hand up. “Guess you'll need to give me a hand with that.”

“My pleasure.”

_________________

The Ghost of the East Wing

Root has to admit that the east wing of the house has a good, spooky atmosphere. There's scorch marks on some of the walls from a fire that partially burned down the wing years ago (the stories have it that you can still smell the smoke in the air, but Root has yet to smell anything other than mildew), and all the furniture is under white sheets. The wind howls through the cracks and rattles the windows enough to be irritating and make the whole place chilly. And then there's the fact the forest has grown in thick around this wing so there's nothing but dark woods outside the windows.

But the heating works well enough to keep the place comfortable and she's got Shaw as an extra heater, so it could be much worse.

Shaw whines in protest when Root sticks her cold feet up against her leg to warm them up. It's a cute enough noise that Root pulls her feet back and pushes them up against Shaw's other leg to see if she can get a repeat.

What she actually gets is socked in the face with a pillow.

It takes a few minutes of shuffling around before they're both comfortable enough to drift off and Root is so worn out from all the excitement of the day that she falls asleep quickly and doesn't wake up again until Shaw shakes her by the shoulder.

“Hhzzmhh?” Root asks. It's pitch black and she's still tired.

Shaw lays a finger across her lips to shush her and tilts her head to one side as if listening. Root goes as quiet as she can, barely breathing, and focuses on every little noise the house is making.

Footsteps. Those are definitely footsteps, and they're coming closer down the creaky floorboards of the hall.

Shaw rolls out of bed and drops to the floor in a crouch. Root knows for a fact that there's no way to move across the floor in this room without the floorboards making a racket, and yet Shaw is completely silent.

The footsteps are getting closer, and even though Root knows that ghosts don't exist and that the house isn't really haunted, she still feels a slight twist of fear in her stomach. She grabs her taser off the nightstand since Shaw has a gun already and if somehow she's been wrong all these years and ghosts really do exist, then maybe an electric current will be more effective against them than a bullet.

The door bursts open and there's a tall, formless white figure in the hallway.

“OoooOOOooooo,” it moans.

Root sighs. He wasn't even trying very hard, was he?

Shaw leaps up from where she was crouched next to the door and socks the ghost squarely in where it's face would be.

“Oww!” the ghost yells.

Shaw kicks it in the leg and slams into it so it falls over, twisted in its own sheet.

Root gingerly climbs out of bed and winces when her feet hit the bare floor. She tests the power on her taser as she moves towards the fallen ghost. Sure, she knows it's John, but he doesn't know that she knows so who could blame her for defending herself?

It's hours before anyone gets back to sleep.

_________________

Reassignment

Shaw wakes up to the news that they've been taken off the mission and are to return to the city immediately. She'd sort of been hoping to see the bear again, but otherwise she's pretty glad to get out of this place.

The list of reasons Root gives for their sudden departure is hard to argue with. The many incidents the Machine took issue with include: destruction of valuable historical documents, destruction of historic architecture, petty larceny, grand larceny, discussion of unsafe animal handling techniques (Shaw rolls her eyes at that one), excessive sneezing on valuable books, using historical stone gargoyles as target practice, attempted assault on an asset with a non-lethal weapon, and successful unarmed assault of an asset leading to a mild injury.

It's an impressive list and Shaw figures it's no wonder she feels so tired.

Reese is loading the car when she gets outside. He still isn't speaking to her and is holding an ice pack to his bruised jaw. Really he should be grateful she'd stopped Root from tasing him. It's not their fault he decided to try and scare them and they're hardly to blame for retaliating.

Root is a little sad they're leaving early and still sulking about missing out on a good tasing, but she seems eager to get back home as well. She steals the passenger’s seat before either of the boys can try to claim it.

Fusco is grumpy despite being the only one to have gotten a full night's sleep. “Next time you three need help, don't call me.”

Reese broods intensely in the back seat.

“Guess it'll just be you and me for the next haunted house,” Root says.

Shaw considers pointing out that basically every single strike against them from the Machine was either her or Root's fault (though Reese had brought that slug in the jaw on himself), and that the chances of either of them ever being sent on a similar mission are slim to none.

“I think we're scarier than a bunch of ghosts,” she says instead.

Root looks quite pleased with that response and begins listing off directions to get them back to the highway and out of this desolate area. Shaw starts the car down the driveway, the slightly-more-decrepit-than-they'd-found-it house in her rearview mirror.

#person of interest #shoot #my tumblr fics #mp #will be posting on ao3 as well at some point soon #happy halloween y'all #line breaks no longer show up on mobile thanks tumblr #i wrote something in present tense and hated every second of doing so

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leafdrake-haven · 1 year

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I posted 2,930 times in 2022

That's 968 more posts than 2021!

231 posts created (8%)

2,699 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@leafdrake-haven

@markrosewater

@bace-jeleren

@littjara-compleated-sage

@obi-one-drop

I tagged 1,388 of my posts in 2022

#mtg fanart - 232 posts

#tabby talks - 124 posts

#tabby asks - 67 posts

#mtg art - 56 posts

#mtg fanfic - 36 posts

#mtg community - 32 posts

#tabby’s ocs - 31 posts

#fanwalker friday - 28 posts

#fan character friday prompt - 27 posts

#mtg oc - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#tbh i don’t know how much extra i really have but it feels like a lot in my head but maybe it’s just snips of fics i haven’t written yet

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok but

They’re just

baby 🥺

36 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

Fanwalker and mtg OC creators listen up!

Fall is getting closer and I think it’s time to start thinking about MtG Fantober once more! People seemed to have fun with it last year and when I put feelers out earlier this year people seemed interested (unfortunately I can’t find that post for the life of me).

For newer followers MtG Fantober (and the earlier version Fan-Character February) are month long celebration of OCs! In the past, each week has had a theme and people were encouraged to post about their characters and fanplanes, and ask others about theirs if they wanted to. Our first event weeks were: Introductions, relationships, cross-overs, collaborations. Our second event weeks were: Introductions, plane spotlights, cross-overs, Halloween.

So I’m thinking of doing themed weeks again (unless people really want daily prompts). Introductions is a something I want to keep as a week one theme. It’s perfect for new people and new characters! I don’t mind doing redos of others but I’ll come up with some potential ideas and people should feel free to contribute ideas! I’m also leaning towards the last week expanding from just Halloween to Halloween/any holidays/make up mtg holidays. Also also, I like plane spotlight, but I kinda think fanplanes could get their own fan-month too (Fan-Plane February 2023? 👀)

Anywho! Possible ideas!

Cross-overs

Modern AU/Sci-fi AU

Collaboration

Relationships

There’s probably lots more ideas but this is what I’ve got so far. We could break it up into visual art, writing, custom cards etc. but I like the idea better to just incorporate multiple medias into each theme!

Thanks for reading!

Any feedback/ideas are appreciated! :D

36 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

Ok talking about the new Griffin legendary that works as a tribal commander got me thinking of other tribes that don’t have a good tribal commander, don’t have one at all, or just have one. Along with the recent fun drake tribal commander that @jones-friend made it sounds like a good idea for a

RANDOM FUN CARD PROMPT SATURDAY 🎉

Design a legendary creature to be a tribal commander for an underrepresented tribe (ones that don’t have a tribal legendary, have legendary cards but none that are focused at helping the tribe, or only have 1 or 2 good options).

Ones I can think of that fit the bill off the top of my head are wurms, hellions, unicorns, werewolves, hydras, drakes (👀), sphinxes, fish, and squirrels. But honestly there’s a bunch more because there are so many creatures types in magic that are just a few of!

The winner is: anyone who makes a card they like!

The prize is: having fun!

41 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

Fan Character Friday

So I’ve seen some other fandoms have OC days where there is a fun prompt to talk about/develop your OCs every week, and I thought HEY the mtg community has a lot of people with a lot of OCs, maybe we can do it too!

Ok so you know the drill, I’ll give a prompt and you can respond to it by answering directly, doing a doodle, making a custom card, or a little flash fic.

Happy character developing!

Create a “Signature Spellbook” for your character! (Find 8-9 cards that fit your character mechanically and/or flavorfully. Optionally add a card you made for your character as well). Alternatively (or additionally) you could try a “Summoner’s Spellbook” if your character summons a lot of creatures. Feel free to make custom cards for this, but it can be fun to fit in already made cards.

45 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

MTG FANTOBER 2022 👻🐈‍⬛🍬

Hello and welcome to the MtG Fantober 2022 master post! This month is dedicated to the creativity of the community filling the multiverse with their own characters both planeswalker and planebound! (And don’t you worry about fan planes missing out, I’ve got a separate idea for that in the late winter, so later on look out for Fanplane February 😉)

Each week will have a suggested theme, but feel free to post whatever you want to at any time! There are many ways to celebrate! Feel free to post visual art, fanfics, music playlists, custom cards, real cards that fit your characters, or just talk and gush about your characters!

Don’t forget, interaction if half the fun! Discuss with each other, ask people about their OCs if you’re intrigued by them, compliment their fanart, fics, or custom cards. In general, remember to have fun with each other and be kind! Don’t forget to tag your related posts as Fantober 2022 so everyone can find them! :D

WEEKS ONE AND TWO—Fanwalker Spotlight and Planebound Spotlight

Introduce us to your fanwalkers in week one and your Planebound characters in week two!

Ideas: Character bios/intro sheets, signature spell book ideas, custom cards, origin fics. Tell us about their friends, family, or pets!

WEEK THREE—Free For All!

Week three can be for anything you want! AUs, planar chaos style what-ifs, how did they interact or affect canon events/speculation of how they would have interacted with canon events (even if it’s something they weren’t around for like the Brother’s War or original Phyrexian invasion, the speculation is mostly for fun!), crossovers (your character is a pokemon trainer now or is in Starfleet). Any random what-if is fair game. Or just continue anything you didn’t finish talking about in week one or two. I will also probably queue up old Fan Character Friday prompts throughout this week in case there’s nothing in particular that catches your eye.

WEEK FOUR—Happy Halloween! 🎃 (And happy holidays!)

It is fanTOBER after all! Show off your OCs enjoying autumn fun! How would they celebrate Halloween, or MtG holidays such as Harvesttide? Feel free to speculate here, what kind of autumn festival do you think different planes might have (does Ravnica have Halloween?) And if Halloween isn’t your favorite holiday, show off your characters enjoying any holiday (real or imagined)!

Have fun, it’s the last week! Feel free to do anything from any of the previous weeks as well!

84 notes - Posted August 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Lol is it embarrassing that my most reblogged blog is my own blog?#maybe?#oh well idc anyhow #maybe I’ll do more original posts next year

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bamby0304 · 6 years

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Season’s Special: Chapter 7

Fall: September

Summary: Life was simple. You worked at the local cafe, starting your days baking some pies before setting off to serve customers. Everything was routine, all year round. Nothing changed. As a creature of habit you were quite content living your life the way it was. But when a flannel wearing flirt walks into the cafe one morning you begin to wonder if maybe you’re missing something…

Over the next twelve months things start to change. Over four seasons your world is turned upside down… only question is, is it for better or for worse?

Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff :):)

Bamby

You were the happiest you’d been in practically forever. Everything was absolutely perfect. The store was thriving, you had a gorgeous boyfriend and one of your favourite seasons had finally rolled around… Fall.

Changing leaves. Comfy sweaters. Pumpkin spice everything. Flannel clothes. Cinnamon scents. Camp fires. Warm blankets. Halloween. Apple picking. Thanksgiving. It may be cliche... but you loved it all.

“Hey, boss! You got a visitor,” Susie sang from the front.

Looking through the window between the front room and the kitchen, you spotted said visitor.

Smile plastered on your face, you rushed out of the kitchen, straight out the front door and across the road… all the way to the cute border collie dog waiting patiently for you by a bench.

“Charlie!” You beamed. “Hey, boy.” Kneeling down, you laughed as the dog jumped up to lick your face. “Oh, I missed you too,” you mused, scratching his head.

Pete- Charlie’s owner- smiled at you as he sat on the bench. “Thought you might like the visit.”

“Are you kidding me?” Still patting the dog, you managed to pull him away slightly so you could actually make eye contact with his owner. “I’ve missed you guys so much. How was the trip?”

For the last few months Pete and his new wife, Faith, had been travelling the country. Being the adventurous family they were, they of course took Charlie with them. That meant you’d missed spending any time with your favourite fluff-ball, hence the warm greeting.

“Great.” Pete smiled back at you. “We actually have great news… Faith’s pregnant.”

“Really!? Oh my, God. Congratulations.” Your smile grew even more. “Oh, I can’t wait. A cute baby and Charlie? You know you’re going to have to visit, like, every day.”

He chuckled lightly. “Of course. Pretty sure Charlie’s gonna want a break from the crying baby anyway.”

“Nonsense.” You turned your attention back to the dog. “He’ll love his new hairless friend. Won’t you buddy?” You smiled.

As you gave all your attention to the dog, scratching him in all the good spots, laughing as he rolled over for belly rubs, you hadn’t realised someone was waiting for you at the cafe.

“Uh…” Pete cleared his throat. “I think you’ve got an admirer.”

“Huh?” Confused, you turned to take a look, only to smile once more. “Oh… that’s just my boyfriend.”

Leaning against his beautiful car, Dean watched you with a small smile of his own, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket which was thrown over a flannel shirt. He always wore flannel- unless he was in a suit, of course.

Saying a quick good bye to Charlie and Pete, you got up and quickly headed over, checking for car as you crossed the road. Dean’s eyes stayed on you the whole time.

“Hey.” You beamed.

“Hey.” He pushed off the car as you reached him, his arm coming out to slide around your waist and pull you closer.

A content hum escaped your lips and your eyes closed as Dean leaned down to kiss you.

Your relationship had been a little confusing at first. With his job taking him all over the place, you knew there were going to be some complications, but that didn’t stop you from taking a leap and letting yourself get attached.

Then there was the issue of Tom, though he wasn’t the only one who had been unsure of your relationship. A few other locals expressed their concern as well. They may like Dean, but they didn’t want to see you get hurt. Still… you ignored it all and followed your gut.

Other than that, things had been pretty amazing.

Dean had insisted on redoing the date you never managed to have. While at the bar you pretended not to know how to play pool, letting him get close so he could teach you. Then you’d played a light-hearted game, which you let him win so as not to blow your cover- you would tell him the truth later… during another game... when the stakes are higher and his guards are down.

There’d also been a few nights where you would leave the store to either Tom or Susie, and Dean would then drive the two of you to the middle of nowhere so you could sit and eat some food alone. You never expected him to be romantic, but when he started star gazing you felt your already mushy heart melt a little more.

You spent a few lunches together at the park, some mornings at the store, or a couple of nights in the kitchen. It was all playing out like some kind of romantic chick-flick… and you were loving every moment of it.

Pulling back from the kiss, Dean slid his hand from your waist and into your own grasp before the two of you headed inside.

“So… it’s a new season,” he noted, having not been around for the last few days due to work. “What’s on the menu?”

“Today we have chocolate-caramel cream, pear crumb, or the season’s special… pumpkin and chocolate swirl pie,” you answered as you both moved to the front counter to take a look at the desserts.

“Why am I not surprised the special has pumpkin in it?” he chuckled lightly.

“Well, it is Fall,” you noted, letting you hand slip out of his so you could move to the other side of the counter.

Leaning a little closer to the dessert display, Dean contemplated his choices before making his mind up. “I’ll take the chocolate-caramel cream and a slice of the special.”

“Two black coffees?” Susie asked, already heading for the kitchen.

“Only one today,” Dean called after her.

You’d been reaching for a slice of pumpkin pie when you paused, giving him a surprised look. “No Sam?”

“No, he’s gone away for a few days.” He shrugged.

“Everything okay?” You were genuinely concerned.

In the months you’d known Dean you’d come to learn he and his brother were pretty close. Close enough that this was the first time you’d heard of the two of them being apart…

“Yeah,” he insisted. “There’s some fancy speaker person thing going on a few states over. He wanted to go check it out.”

“Ah…” You nodded, understanding now. “And you thought that sounded like the worst idea ever, so you left him to his own devices.”

His grin slipped into place. “Exactly.”

Shaking you head lightly, you got back to packing the pies up, your back to him as you placed the food in some boxes. Once you were done you turned to place the boxes on the counter, next to the register.

“So… you’ve got the place to yourself,” you hinted, offering him a small grin of your own.

“Yes…” He nodded, not catching up yet.

“Does that mean I’ll finally be able to see where you live?” you hinted a little more.

It clicked then, you could see it in the way his eyes went wide with surprise before they darkened as he thought of the million things he’d love to do with you… but the look was gone almost as fast as it arrived, being replaced with guilt and disappointment.

“You know I would love nothing more than to take you home, but I wouldn’t feel right. Not when you haven’t met Sam, you know?”

Part of you thought his reason was ridiculous. But then you remembered how important Sam was to him, and decided it wasn’t such a silly reason after all.

“I get it,” you reassured him.

“Here’s the coffee.” Susie came back around to the counter, placing his drink down next to the pies.

“Thanks.” Dean offered her a kind smile before turning his attention back to you. “See you later, baker girl?”

“You better, pie boy.” You smiled, leaning over the counter to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Grin on his face, Dean turned and left the store, turning back to look at you as he reached the door, walked passed the window, and slipped into his car. You didn’t move a muscle, watching him the whole time.

“Oh, my God! It’s here!” Susie squealed as grabbed a book off the counter.

Pulled out of your Dean-trance, you turned to give her a confused look. “Huh?”

“The book!” She lifted the book up and in your face. “The one I was telling you about.”

“The witch’s diary thing?” you asked, vaguely remembering something about spells and whatnot.

“Yes!” Susie squealed again. “Oh, I can’t wait to get home so I can start reading it.” Smiling from ear to ear, she took the book and headed out into the kitchen, her eyes looking down at the old and worn cover the whole way.

Bamby

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imagine-that-one-thing · 7 years

Text

21 kids and a kiwi.

Authors Note: I really couldn't help myself when I saw the picture on H's Instagram about Kiwi and this has been torturing me in my brain ever since, so here is a lil somethin' to get us through until the next two days until KIWI comes out.

Harry Masterlist found HERE

It was only a matter of time before he became a music enthusiast who aspired to constantly be surrounded by the beautiful, affectionate, innocent eyes of children and their laughter that is astonishingly contagious.

Five years ago when he sauntered through the front door with a crooked grin and enthusiasm through the roof with his eyes overflowing with pure delight, you weren’t surprised when the words, “I am going to be a music teacher.” Escaped his perfectly rosy lips. You glanced over at him with a cup of coffee in cupped in your palms while your body was sat up on the stool by the countertop. You gave him a generous smile and nodded. You certainly weren’t surprised at all.

He needed something to do while he was taking a break from the A-List stardom life of touring and recording.

Over the five years, he triumphantly earned his Bachelor's degree in music, completed a student-teaching experience at the school he went to growing up and received his teaching license. It wasn't as intense as you had thought it would be, you expected him to be as miserable through obtaining his degree like you were years ago, but none of it bothered him, he appreciated constantly being buried in books and papers while discovering more about his passion. He never complained on the late nights he was perched in front of his laptop revising for tests and whatever else he was stuck doing at ungodly hours.

Today, you encounter yourself with your hands and arms grappling to hold everything, car-keys, purse, and many different snacks for Harry’s music class. Since parents were allowing their children to stay after school to rehearse for the winter musical that Harry has been extremely excited about producing. Harry proposed to feed the kiddos snacks. And by Harry volunteering to feed the children, what was really inferred was that you would be left in charge of the food needs of the individual children and their various allergies and desires.

You step into the front office and give the receptionist your typically generous smile as she welcomes you, opening the door for you to enter the foyer that leads to the rest of the school's classrooms. You wander the endless hallway of dim lights, eventually making it to the music centre. As you stand outside the two wide doors, you overhear the laughter of children echoing and the soft tone of the piano playing. You grin to yourself before you manage to force the doors open, instantly causing all the little eyes to stare over at you, "Missus Y/N," a few of the little ones hurry over to you with great joy, their little arms wrapping around your legs.

You catch Harrys chuckles before he's by your side taking the food from your arms, "Hey Missus Y/N," he chuckles with a wide grin, kissing your cheek and making his way to the table that he has evidently set up for the snacks.

You watch as the little ones follow his every step and endeavour to assist him, all of them listening to his every instruction and holding onto his every word.

"What do we say to Missus Y/N for bringing us the food?" He announces to his group of what you like to call, little minions. They all glance over at you and in unison declare thanks with a charming chime of "Thank you Missus Y/N."

You give them a small laugh and assure them that they are welcome before Harry proceeds to help two little girls that are a little shorter than the rest and having a troublesome time stretching for the fruits.

You can't help but relish him with that gorgeous grin on his face as he does everything to help all the kiddos that require his attention, making sure each and every child is taken care of. If you didn't know any better, you'd believe he was the father of all twenty-one children.

Harry stands beside you proudly, "You're going to be blown away, jus' watch." He beams as his eyes stay focused on the twenty-one children assembled in a well-defined manner. "Lilly, sweetie a little more to your left," Harry gestures graciously and she shuffles to her left, "There we go," Harry gives her a thumbs up, "Okay, on three I want you all to show Y/N what we have practised... 1...2...3." Harry counts and a warm and soothing tone of young voices harmonising together and bouncing off the walls. You proudly smile at the wonderfully sounding kids as they sing 'Rudolph the red nose reindeer,' with cute, dainty smiles as they bounce up and down gleefully.

"You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, you know Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen, But do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?" With each name of a reindeer, a little one steps forward proudly.

You allow the adorable singers to finish the song before you give them your own special standing ovation, "Wonderful, each and everyone one of you," you exclaim with such happiness etched into your heart. Little kids carolling Christmas carols is honestly one of the warmest things that you cherish.

"Okay ladies and gentlemen, it is time to get ready for your Mummy and Daddy's to come pick you up, go get your backpacks." Harry gestures towards the other room where the backpacks and belongings are kept, "Don't forget your jackets it is cold outside."

"Can we sing another song?" One girl smiles as she walks closer to Harry and he nods.

"I think we have a few minutes, once you all collect your bags we can sing another one," Harry informs the little girl before she skips off happily towards the other room. "So, what do you think? Cute, huh?" Harry beams as he turns to you with bright eyes that have always brought joy to your fluttering heart.

You nod your head in agreement, his little crew are by far extremely cute, especially when they're singing and enjoying themselves. "Yes, you have done a good job, they can even hold notes."

"Yeah, they're a good little group. So, I was thinking the kids, in the beginning, they have differently decorated reindeer antlers so we know they're Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and the rest."

"Seems like a good idea. All of them outfitted as Reindeer would be so adorable," you admit, already imagining all of the kiddos decked cutely as Reindeers.

"Mhm, I was thinking you could help me with decorating them."

"Harry," you sigh, remembering the last time he said those exact words. You got stuck last time decorating fairy wings while he slept on the couch because you got sick of scolding him and having to redo his creations because...well... he isn't steady with his hands when it comes to decorating small things with glitter glue. He tried, he really did, but he just wasn't brought into this world to decorate things, especially fairy wings. "I love you, I do, but I can't decorate reindeer outfits all on my own within two weeks."

"I know, darling, I will help."

"Harry, do I need to remind you of the fairy wings? Or the Halloween costumes?"

"Y/N," Harry chuckles, "I promise I am better at decorating Reindeer ears than I am pumpkins and fairy wings."

"Mhm, you owe me dinner and a movie night after all this."

Harry nods, "of course, I'll even cook for yeh."

You grin and graciously nod in agreement to his proposal. You can never turn down his propositions to cook. The second best thing to seeing him prepare the children is to observe him dance around the kitchen with nothing but a pair of sweatpants on while he hums along to his favourite songs. It's breathtaking, to say the least.

You and Harry both stand and welcome each parent as they walk in to claim their children with wide grins when they see how the children are vibrant and beaming.

Once the last child leaves, Harry turns to you, "Thanks, thank you for everything you do and allowing me to do this," he gestures his arms around to his little music room that has become his 'safe-haven,' you could say. His safe haven to escape the world used to be the studio, and since he is taking a hiatus with his music career as an artist, he has resorted to his music room as his place. He loves the laughter of children and the vibration of their beautiful voices as he performs on the piano and teaches them new songs. Harry loves observing their faces light up when their favourite songs get played and he especially loves it when they request some of the older songs that he has taught them with parental consent.

His eyes are evermore an eminent shade and his smile is invariably a little bit wider when he gets to spend extra time with the little ones and preparing for small musicals and recitals. He has a soft spot for kids, it is obvious, and there is a part of you that absolutely adores watching him operate his magic with so many young individuals who have a strong devotion and passion for music like he does. He is connected with them on a different level, it's beautiful to witness.

You lean up and kiss Harry sweetly before you carefully pull away, "You always support me. It is no problem. But, next time you want to sign me up for snack duty, don't remind me at midnight."

"Yeah, sorry about that love, I forgot."

"I know," you chuckle, "So, I was in the fruit aisle today, take a guess what I stumbled upon?" You grin cheekily as Harry crosses his arms over his chest and raises his brow.

"Well, darling, I am assuming you stumbled across the fruit."

"Smart ass," you roll your eyes at your husband who is grinning widely at his comment, "I happened to catch a glimpse at some kiwis," you inform Harry and he instantly chuckles while covering his face with his hands, "I got a few, too. I remember you enjoy them quite a bit."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "oh my, I don't think I am ever going to live that down, am I?"

"Mmm, no," you shake your head, "So, can you remind me how it goes again?" you purposely bat your eyes and grin at him as he rolls his eyes and curls his lips.

It has been a while since the all-so-famous song Kiwi has been brought up. You can't really help yourself today, especially considering how at one point he came home with a box full of kiwis thanks to a dedicated fan who was quite the comedian.

Harry steps closer to you, his hands pressing to your waists while his lips caress to the corner of your mouth. Your arms drape over his shoulders and shivers become pulsated down your spile as his soft breath steadily hits your bare neck as he slowly sings.

"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes. Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect. And all the boys, they were saying they were into it. Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck."

(Tell me what you think, here).

#Harry styles imagines #harry styles prompt #harry styles prompts #imagine harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles preference #harry styles preferences #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles writing

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teachingoutsidethebinary · 7 years

Text

Best Halloween Ever

Prompt Request: could you do a peter parker x ginger reader where she’s a HUGE harry potter nerd and she thinks peter looks a little like harry so she has them go as ginny and harry for halloween and he’s super in love w her throughout it all cause that’s HIS nerd and he loves her ??

Characters: Peter Parker, Reader

Warnings: none really, just fluff

A/N: Thanks for the request! Tags and requests are open, and as always, thanks for reading!

Oneshot Masterlist

Peter hopped over the back of the couch and plopped down next to you. Some popcorn escaped the bowl he was holding and spilled onto the floor.

“Watch it!” you warned. “Papa Bear’s gonna kill you if you mess up his rug.”

Peter sighed and banged his head against the cushions. “Can you please stop referring to Mr. Stark as Papa Bear?” he asked.

“Is he ever going to stop acting like an overprotective father?” you shot back.

Peter groaned. “Probably not.”

“Then no.” You smirked at him, and he threw a few pieces of popcorn at you.

“What are we watching anyway?” he asked, after he got the silliness out of his system.

“Well…” you trailed off and his eyes widened.

“No!” he exclaimed. “Not again!”

“Okay, hear me out,” you reasoned. “The new Fantastic Beasts movie just came out on DVD, so of course we need to rewatch the old movies.”

“But it’s not even the same storyline as Harry Potter !” he yelped.

“Yeah, but there’s history to be learned. Pretty please?” You clasped your hands together and gave him your best puppy dog eyes. You knew he’d never be able to say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine!” he relented. “But I want to watch the one where they train in that secret closet.”

“ Order of the Phoenix? Coming right up!” You scrolled through Tony Stark’s massive movie library until you found the movie you were looking for. You had managed to get Tony’s iTunes password from Captain America himself and had downloaded all of the extended versions of the Harry Potter movies.

“FRIDAY, please turn down the lights,” Peter commanded as you started the movie. Everything was plunged into darkness until just the light from the TV illuminated the room.

Normally, you were completely engrossed whenever you watched a Harry Potter movie. But today, your attention kept wavering between the movie screen and Peter’s face. He couldn’t help but feel your intense gaze on him as he watched wizards and witches fight it out on screen.

“Everything okay?” he finally asked. He was thankful the darkness was hiding his flaming red cheeks.

“You look just like him…” you murmured. You paused the movie. “FRIDAY, lights please.”

The lights came back on, and you grasped Peter’s hand and pulled him to his feet. You started talking about something, but your voice faded out as he tried to contain his emotions.

His heart beat wildly as you held his hand in yours. To say he had a crush on you was an understatement. Ever since you had been assigned partners in chemistry last year, you two were practically inseparable. Plus, he loved the fact that you didn’t treat him any differently once you found out he was Spiderman. You weren’t even intimidated by the other Avengers when you hung out with him at the Tower.

“So what you do think?” you asked, bringing his attention back to the present moment. “You wanna do it?”

“Yes,” he replied dreamily.

You squealed and jumped up and down. “This is going to be so awesome!” You gave him a quick hug. “I just need to run home and grab some stuff, but I’ll meet you at the shop in, like an hour?”

Peter gulped and nodded, hoping you couldn’t decipher his absolutely clueless expression. You waved and practically ran out the door.

He waited until you left to summon the AI. “Umm, FRIDAY? What exactly did I just agree to do?”

He couldn’t help but feel like the AI was smirking at him behind all its code. “Well, Mr. Parker, it appears you will be dressing as Harry Potter for Halloween.”

You waited anxiously outside the dressing room as Peter changed into his outfit. Finally, the thin blue curtain pulled back and Peter appeared. You stared at him with an open jaw as he held out his arms and spun around.

“Well?” he asked.

“Oh. My. GOSH!” you squealed. “You look amazing!”

Peter blushed as he looked in the big dressing room mirror. “You think?”

You nodded vigorously and turned him around. “You’re perfect as Harry Potter!”

It was true. With his brown hair and piercing eyes, Peter totally pulled off the Harry Potter look. You held out fake glasses, and he put them on.

“Ahh! I love it!”

Peter looked at your own costume appreciatively. “Maybe, uh, you should, like, stand next…to me,” he stuttered. “You know, to get the, uh, full effect of the costume.”

You let out a light gasp. “You’re totally right!” You practically bounced over and stood next to him. You made the perfect Ginny Weasley. Despite the harsh fluorescent lights in the dressing room, your red hair shone brilliantly. It framed your face in the most perfect way, and Peter couldn’t help but notice how the black Gryffindor robes accentuated your already awesome features.

“We look amazing!” you exclaimed. “All we need are wands and a scar for you, and then our costumes will be epic!”

“You are such a nerd,” Peter snickered.

“But you love it!” you sang, dancing around the dressing room.

Your enthusiasm was contagious, and Peter found himself actually looking forward to trick-or-treating.

He had it bad for you.

Halloween had finally arrived. Peter met you at your apartment to get completely dressed up in the costumes. You had helped draw a scar on his forehead, and he had to stop himself from passing out at you being so close to his lips.

“Expelliarmus!” you yelled, waving your wand at him.

“Oof!” Peter grunted as he pretended to fall backwards.

“Noooo,” you whined. “Expelliarmus causes the opponent’s wand to leave their hand.”

Peter straightened himself back up. “Okay, okay, lemme try again,” he insisted.

You held your wand out, a look of steely determination in your eyes. “Expelliarmus!”

Peter flung his wand, and it accidentally knocked over some of your Harry Potter funko pop figures. “Whoops.”

Thankfully, you just giggled and picked his wand up off the floor. “Let’s try not to hit any kids while we’re out, okay?”

Peter nodded sheepishly and followed you out your door.

Whoever said high schoolers were too old to go trick-or-treating was lying. You and Peter were a huge hit with your “couples” costume. Kids kept stopping you in the hallways to ask for you two to duel each other. Peter’s wand didn’t hit any kids, but it did accidentally knock one cranky old lady’s apartment numbers off her door. You retired your wands at that point and focused on collecting candy. By the time you finished hitting every apartment in your building, your bags were full of goodies.

“I’m kind of not ready to be done yet,” you admitted after you left the last apartment.

“Me neither,” Peter replied. “Want to walk around for a bit?”

You nodded, and suddenly, your demeanor changed. You bit your lip and your cheeks took on a pink tinge. “So, uh, since Ginny and Harry end up together in…in the movies…” You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Maybe we could, um, hold hands? To make the costumes more realistic,” you added quickly.

Peter’s heart lept into his throat. “Y-y-ye-yeah,” he got out. “Def-definitely need to m-make it realistic.”

You and Peter had held hands before. In moments of excitement, it wasn’t uncommon for you to take his hand in yours. However, this felt completely different. Peter prayed you couldn’t feel how sweaty his hand was. His heart thumped steadily as you walked around outside, hand-in-hand, in silence.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you said, looking Peter in the eyes.

“Me too.” He rubbed small circles on the palm of your hand and gained some courage. “Do you wanna hang out sometime?”

“Sure!” you replied immediately. “We can finish the movie.”

“N-no,” Peter clarified. “I mean, hang out.” Your eyes widened when you realized what he meant. “I mean, we don’t have to,” Peter added, when he saw your expression. “It’s just-”

His words were cut off when you kissed him. Well, tried to anyway. In your haste, you wound up banging noses, and his glasses fell off his face.

“Ohmygoshimsosorry,” you rushed, covering your face in your hands. “I was…I was trying to…” You groaned and refused to meet his eyes.

Peter bit his lip as he tried not to laugh. “You wanna…you wanna try that again?”

You looked up. “You mean you still want to?” you asked incredulously.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I like you a lot.”

“I like you too,” you replied.

You liked him! Peter swore he could hear angels singing in the distance, he was so happy. He repositioned himself in front of you and placed shaky hands on your shoulders. Your own hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. Your eyes looked even brighter this close, and he could see the smattering of freckles decorate your nose. You took a deep breath and relished in the sharp scent of Peter’s body spray.

“Umm, so I guess we just…?” you asked nervously.

“Y-yeah,” Peter responded.

You both leaned in for your redo kiss. It was soft, gentle, and a little awkward for your first time. But otherwise…

But it was perfect.

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