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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Uncertainty in the Household

Picture Perfect Series

TW: talk and action for miscarriage, slight manipulation

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: I wanted to explore the reader and Danny’s relationship in this chapter, so i hope you like it, first part is p rough with the whole miscarriage, so you're free to skip to after the second - if you're uncomfy with that

Tears fall into your palms as your fingertips dig into your scalp, your belly- while still early in the pregnancy, still feels as if it’s protruding, and you sit on the shared bed, a faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol lingers in the air and you’re alone. For now, at least. It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were Danny who was the father. You want to kid yourself, to tell such lies that he could be the father, that sleeping with- that being forced into whatever sick game Ghostface has with you- that he didn’t impregnate you. You blame yourself. You should have taken the morning after pill, you should have purged yourself of everything and anything to make sure that you didn’t let yourself have his child. Your stomach twists and turns, a thin veil of acid on your tongue and you wonder how to explain this to Danny. If you even should. It’s still early, maybe you could get rid of the child before anyone has to know. Your eyes widen and you sit up, your eyes scanning the room and you let out a breath, nodding to yourself.

You can get rid of the child. No one knows. You made sure to throw away the pregnancy tests in a dumpster at a park and rip the receipts before anyone could ever see. No one has to know.

Loneliness, while always being your aggressor, has finally worked in your favor. You rush to put on your clothes, ignoring the burning desire to cry, your purse in your hand, you walk to the front door, pausing to leave a note to your partner.

“Went out, I’ll bring dinner.” Something short and simple. Marked with a little heart at the end that makes you feel a bit sick, like it’s something like a lie that you’re telling him. You place the pen down and grab the car keys, rushing down the steps. Each step down the stairs is something that feels heavy, chains around our ankle and the child- no, you can’t call it that. You know you’ll get attached. You’ve heard about the tactics that are used to pressure vulnerable people into keeping their unborn children, and you won’t be one of those. You can’t. Not now and you’re sure not ever. The car purrs to life, the steering wheel a bit too hot from being under the sun and you wait, letting the cool air fan against your already hot body and you reverse out of the parking lot.

You return with tuna, alcohol, fenugreek, a peppermint and aloe vera plant, a thin bag that is filled with peaches, different varieties of caffeine that you can already taste, and pineapple. Your hands ache, the base of your fingers sore from the heaviness of the bags that you stubbornly carried up to the apartment. You were not going to make multiple trips, that much was certain about your day. You hear his voice before you see him, a greeting cut off as he realizes just how much you’re carrying. Danny’s eyes widen, and he rushes off the couch, taking bags away and your palms are redden from the indents of the bags.

“Are we having a feast?” His hands are inside a bag and he pulls out wrapped fish, and he stops, turning to you, a tight smile on his lips that you don’t recognize. “I didn’t know you liked fish.” He places it down and watches as you carefully place a clinking bag down onto the table. “Alcohol too, huh? What-” he turns to you, a nervous chuckle filling the space of his words- “Did I forget a special date?”

You shake your head no, already biting into an unwashed peach, trying to ignore how many hands and bacteria have touched the fruit before you. “Just-” you speak with a full mouth and turn your head, covering your mouth with your hand and taking another bite. You swallow and take a gulp of air. “I was just craving fish is all. Why? Do you not like fish?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that I- I just wanted soup, and-” your smile falls and he shakes his head. “I can get soup tomorrow. How long until the fish is down?”

“Actually-” you reach into another bag and pull out two containers- “I was able to buy some sushi on the way home.” You pull out a pack and slide the container to him. You spare him a glance as he stares at the sushi with an odd, angry feeling. “Oh, I’m uh, I have tomorrow off, by the way.” You meet his eyes for a minute and he gives you a nod, allowing you to continue.

“You’ve been throwing up lately,” he adds, taking a bite from his plate. Your heart sinks and you try to mask your emotions, turning around to grab a bottle opener from one the drawers. “I’ve been worried, you know. Maybe-” the chair squeaks and when you turn, he’s sitting down, an unopened beer beside his plate- “I should take tomorrow off too and we can go to the doctor. Just to see if you don’t have the flu or-” he tilts his head, his lips twitching- “if it isn’t anything else.”

A part of you wants to tell him your fear. You don’t want to be pregnant, and you hope that if you manifest it enough, it’ll be true. But you also fear that he wants a family and you’ll be the one ruining it for him. Maybe you aren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s just needless worry over a few faulty exams, but you can’t risk it. Not now. Not if it has the chance to be someone other than Danny’s.

With a bottle opener in hand, you walk towards Danny, his eyes on you the entire time. You place the bottle opener beside his drink, a hand on his shoulder and the other brushing back his hair, combing it to the side. His hands leave his meal and rest against your hips, his gaze up at you and there’s a hint of a smile at his lips, and you lean down, pressing your lips over his scar that adorns his forehead.

“We have bills to pay Dan,” you mutter, “at least one of us should be responsible.” You close your eyes tightly to avoid tears spilling over, the hand on his shoulder tightening and when you pull away, he looks unbothered for a moment before giving you a forced smile. “Let’s eat, okay? You can tell me about your day.”

All it takes is one doctor appointment to confirm that you are not pregnant. It was just a scare. And as if life and everything else in control of you wanted to laugh, you bled through your underwear on the ride home. The vomiting in the morning was your body simply pretending to have the signs, your mind so strong that it created a falsehood of pregnancy, just because you were so scared and sure of it.

Life is odd for the moment. You tried so hard to get rid of the unwanted child and they were never there to begin with. You had to go through with the nervousness that consumed you. The call to the doctor, the waiting, the glances that Danny gave you as if he knew something. You wonder if he did know. He isn’t dumb, a bit dense when it comes to your feelings, but he’s smart in a way that matters. You hope that he doesn’t know, for both your sake and his. The little scare will be something that you take to your grave, hoping that it’ll remain just that.

The fan is turned on with a simple swipe of your hand against the light switch, the room filling with white noise. You sit on his couch, your body stiff as if it were the first time that you had visited his home. You still remember how it was. Dirty. You hadn’t expected that from him. There was trash all over, a sort of musty smell and an empty fridge. He hadn’t seemed embarrassed, but rather mildly inconvenienced even though he was the one to invite you over. However, now the place is as clean as it can be, the musty smell now replaced by a slight twinge of alcohol and tobacco, but with an overlapping floral scent from one of your candles. You can’t help but wonder if he minds that you added bits and pieces of yourself into his home. He calls it your home too, almost too eager to make sure that you know that you belong here, but even so, it doesn't feel like your home. It’s too empty, too devoid of your touch. You still feel as if you’re a guest, waiting and cleaning, tending to him when he needs it.

The simple fact of the matter is, this isn’t your home. Your stuff, your personal items that you decorated your home are still in boxes shoved under the bed. You miss your home. “I miss my home,” you say to yourself, tears pricking in your eyes. The rent was cheap, and the landlords were kind enough, but it’s gone. The place scooped up by some stranger and the thought has your stomach rising.

You’ve thought about leaving here. Perhaps not Danny, but maybe that would be a consequence of you leaving. It was too rushed. You were too scared of Ghostface invading your life again. You made a rash decision that the both of you now have to pay for. He lost his space, his privacy and you can tell he holds some resentment, the way he slams the doors close, how he locks the rooms and won’t speak to you until he needs something, until he’s pressuring you to kiss him with a half-hearted apology on his tongue.

You glance at the coffee table, old and cracked, the paint on the wood chipped and revealing the unfurnished finish. The photo frame is cold, a slight layer of dust over it, concealing your nervous smile and Danny’s wide one. He isn't happy, but he’s smiling. You both only have a few pictures with each other. It isn’t much, and you’re surprised that the photographer wouldn’t want more, but it can’t be helped.

The photo is placed back on the table, and you lay down on the sofa, grabbing at the throw blanket that you added. Your arms act as a pillow underneath your weary head, and you stare at the photo, training over how his arms are wrapped tight round you and how close that he holds you.

Daniel walks into his shared apartment with you, and he immediately spots your shoes in a different position than when he left. He frowns, walking further into the apartment, his eyes scan the room, his eyes landing on a crumpled bag of fast food on the table, the drink creating a water ring on the table. It isn’t like you to be so careless.

The drink rattles in his hand, nothing but cold liquid is inside the container. His bag is heavy as he leans it against the wall on the floor, and he finally finds you. You’re asleep on the couch, your body curled with the decorative throw blanket covering your body as the fan spins above.

He lowers himself to watch you, your soft breaths and the way your face is relaxed. You’re asleep and it brings him back to a time where you were under him, where night concealed him and he was able to hover above you. It’s much different now, you’re still scared but he’s able to kiss you, to have you rake your nails down his back and hold his hand as if it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

A calloused hand cups your cheek, your skin soft and blemished with faded scars that he’s studied meticulously night after night. You wake up with his fingers tracing over your face and he doesn’t make a sound, everything about him is stoic and he wonders how you are seeing this situation in your eyes. Are you scared? Do you know? Are you pregnant? What are you thinking of him at this very moment? You blink slowly at him and he’s reminded of a cat, watching and tired, and there’s a burning desire in him that wonders what you would do if he strangled you right now. Slowly, his hand lowers, his knuckles brushing over your cheekbones and down your jawline, touching against your pulse on your neck and he feels it quicken. Your eyes never leave his and he doesn’t look away. He’s sure that he could convince you that it was a joke or that maybe it was just a dream that you had. It’s been a while since you had such a vivid dream.

Your hand creeps from under the blanket and you hold the back of his hand, moving it back to your face, letting your lips press against the side of his palm in a soft kiss. “Danny,” you say in a sleepy voice as your eyes close. “How was work?” Your hand that holds his becomes limp and he watches as it slides down his hand, catching on the cuff of his sweater until it dangles off the couch.

It wasn’t smart of him to invite you to live with him. He was too reckless, too needy and desperate to have you beside him that he just wasn’t thinking. Even if you are naïve and easily pulled into a false sense of security, he can’t just explain his costume, he can’t explain the knife and all the careful cleaning kits that he has. This is all too risky.

But he can’t throw you out either. He’s become attached. You’re like a pet to him now, and as every disgruntled man says on television, don’t name something or else you’ll get attached. And now he’s fallen victim to it. It’s nice to have such an easy fuck around, to know that he cold do whatever he wanted to you and you’ll stay here with him, because the other option is much scarier. The corners of his lips pull upwards and he pulls his hand away, fixing the blanket above you and he rises from his knees with a sigh.

“Another dead body,” he says with a chipper voice that he can’t seem to hide. “All signs point to our residential serial killer.” It’s much too risky to have Ghostface visit you, you thought this as your safe haven, you have to know and think that it still is, but fuck does he miss your fear and how pitifully you cried. “You never told me why you hated him so much.” He has to bite the inside of his cheeks when your brows knit together. “I know he’s a killer, but did he ever hurt anyone close to you?”

Your eyes shift and you pull the blanket closer to you, the folds stretching across your frame and showing the curves of your body. “I’m not sure, I just-” you catch his eyes and he sees you visibly shrink away from him- “I’m scared of his mask.”

His mouth fills with saliva as he thinks about just how frightened you are. “What a shame, I was hoping to get into roleplay.” He could think about you know, how you'd hit and scream, how he could pretend that it was all part of the act and just hold you down, thinking about how you would put the pieces together and sob.

“That isn’t funny,” you say in a high-pitched voice, already cracking and sitting up to lessen the distance between the two of you. He rolls his eyes in response, standing up from his crouch with a hiss between his teeth. “People are dead,” you whine, as if he hasn’t been keeping up with the news with you. “He killed people.” You’re much more emotional than he thought, but you’ve held your mouth for so long, suffered in your silence and in your vulnerability; it's only natural you would have such strong emotions.

“Relax, it was a joke.” He takes off his jacket and tosses it beside you, watching as you pull yourself closer, further away from his jacket and only staring at it with confusion, as if he dared to have the audacity to throw something your way.

“A dumb one,” you say with with a pout, gripping tighter onto the blanket.

“I said relax,” Danny says in a stern voice, already done with the conversation. He may have been the one to start it but he was hoping for a more playful one, or rather one where you go along with him rather than try to fight him.

“Whatever,” you huff, and he sees you bundle the blanket in your arms, pushing yourself to the further end of the couch, looking at the wall with furrowed brows as your hand tries to discreetly cover your pout.

“Great,” he says sarcastically, turning around and walking towards the fridge. “Now, you’re angry,” he says loud enough for you to hear.

He rises back up with a bottle in his hand, toying with the cap, letting the ridges play against his fingertips. You don’t respond and he can feel his anger start to rise, something thick that lodges in his throat and makes it impossible to swallow. You aren’t answering him. Usually this would be a good sign, something that means he still has you wrapped around his finger, but it feels different. You aren’t moving from your spot, and you aren’t apologizing to him. He puts the bottle down, and runs his hand down his face with a heavy sigh.

“I think,” your voice is small, and he can barely hear it, but he can, “we both rushed into this… relationship. We should have taken it slow.” When you turn to him, he sees that your eyes are wet and you try to take steady breaths but to no avail. “I’m happy with you, but I don’t think we were thinking clearly when we chose to-” your eyes glance around and you look away from him- “to do this.”

His jaw twitches and he watches you, anger boiling inside of him, white-hot that makes it impossible to think and if he could, he'd grab the knife on the counter and stick it in your back but he can’t. Copper fills his mouth and he turns on his heel, the bedroom door slamming behind him, loud enough that he can hear your yelp and loud enough that it makes his ears ring. He wonders what the neighbors would think of it, but he can’t really bring himself to care. He’ll find an excuse, he always does.

His name is muted through the door and he rummages through the closet, pulling out a worn backpack and knocking a few clothes off the anger that he steps on. You enter the room just in time to witness him opening your drawer and throwing your things inside without a care.

“Danny?” Your voice sounds so fearful and it makes him stop for a second, and when he looks at you, your foot slides back out of the room. You’re terrified of him right now. “Danny, what are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, as you take a tentative step inside the room.

“You want to leave right?” He asks in a condescending tone, stepping closer to you with the back held tight in his hand. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll help you pack.”

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t you say that we rushed into this?” With every word he stalks towards you and he tosses the backpack onto the bed, only to miss and have it slide down, the contents inside spilling onto the floor. You look away from him and that only adds fuel to the fire that is tarnishing him from the inside. “Didn’t you?” He shouts, slapping his hand on the dresses, rattling your bottles of perfume and creams. He stares at you, his nostrils flared and jaw tight as he tries to keep a sense of composure. “Did you or did you not?” He asks, his voice eerily calm as he lets his nails drag along the wall. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” you cry, your eyes spilling over with tears. “I wasn’t thinking. Please, I promise, it was just a long day and I’m sorry.”

You’re pathetic and not in the way that he wants you. He turns around and you grab his arm, latching yourself around his forearm. His name is on your tongue and before you have a chance to finish it, he turns around, his hand raised, and mouth pulled into an ugly snarl. You let go of him immediately and try to shield yourself, but he aims for the wall instead. His palm stings and you let out a choked sob.

He can’t think. Not with you here. Not with his emotions running so high. Not when his palm stings and there’s something dark brooding inside of him. He takes a deep breath and he forces himself to look at you. You stare up at him with worry creasing your features.

“It's okay,” his words are still tense, but your body lowers its defenses slightly, and he knows he’s on the right track. “I was angry.” He pulls his hand away from the wall and rubs it with his other, the palm of his hand a light shade of pink. “Why don’t we have dinner, huh?” He tries to give you a charming smile, but it falls flat. “We’ll talk about it over dinner. You know-” he reaches for your hand and grabs it in both of his- “like couple’s therapy or some shit. How does that sound?”

You break away from his gaze, glancing at the floor, and he knows your habits and tics by now. You’ll scan the floor, and look up at him and smile and nod. You play your part so well, and if he had to be honest with himself, he can’t lose that. Not yet. Not when you’re so dependent on him and him on you. He waits for our smile, to give you his own to show that he’s okay, that his anger has subsided for now, but you never give him that. Your mouth parts open and there are tears in your eyes, your hand shakes and grows clammy in his. He calls your name, but you don’t respond. Your breath is ragged, sharp inhales and shaky exhales, and he follows your gaze to the floor under the bed.

In the corner of his eye, he spots white and his nails dig into your skin. “Go get me a beer, I’ll-” he looks down at you and your eyes are stuck, glued to the floor where you can see the face that has haunted you- “I’ll clean up, okay? Just give me a moment.” It isn’t enough, you’re still looking where the mask lays, the bottom half of the face peeking from under your undergarments. Your mouth opens in a silent question and when you look back at him, you’re scanning his face. His body runs hot, his mouth going dry and he says the only thing that can come to mind. “I told you I wanted to try roleplay.”

“I thought you were,” you hesitate, and your tongue peeks to wet your lips, “I thought you were kidding,” you say breathlessly, your words slow as if you were hypnotized and the truth of the matter is, is that you are. You’re ruined by the mask that lies on the floor, the mouth of it the only thing that you can see. You peel away from him and have your back turned to him, your arms coming up to give yourself a hug. “I’ll go get you a beer,” you say in a daze, and when you turn back, your smile is weak, and you can’t look at him for long, your eyes magnetized to the mask on the floor.

He’s left alone in the room, his nails digging into the palm of his hands and red in his vision. The worst part of it all is that he can’t go out tonight. Not when you saw his mask. You’re naïve, and easily spooked, but even you could put two and two together. Even your suspicions would start to rise as you questioned why there was a murder the night he went out. Why Ghostface hasn’t come back for you. You’d suspect him and he can’t have that, not when you’re already so fearful of him.

#ghostface #dbd ghostface #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #danny johnson imagine #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #dead by daylight #dbd #i really like this one #mainly the ending #of the chapter

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ladylynse · 4 years

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Hey, folks, not sure if writing a bonus chapter of my Star-centric reveal fic Helpless counts for DP Side Hoes Week since it’s not a new fic, but I’m going to pretend it does. (This can be read on its own if you go off the starting point of Star already knowing Danny’s secret.)

Gathering for a training session was supposed to be a good thing. A simple thing. Straightforward. Except nothing’s really straightforward anymore, and Star’s not sure why she ever thought it would be. [FF | AO3]

-|-

“Why are they here?” Danny hissed to her, unable to hide his nervousness as he peered around the corner of the school at Paulina, Dash, Kwan, and Valerie. Valerie was the only one prepared—she was already doing stretches, while Paulina was just using a compact to touch up her makeup and Dash and Kwan were arm-wrestling on the bleachers—but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that Star had invited them all to the football field, to meet on one of the rare Thursday nights when Valerie didn’t have to work, and they had all come. That already spoke volumes, whatever Fenton thought.

Star crossed her arms. “Because I asked them to come. Because they all need a training session, too. And because you brought enough weapons with you, anyway, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but only because you said you wanted to try different stuff, and….” Danny trailed off and set the box he was carrying on the ground. The others would know Danny was here if they looked over and saw her standing where she was, but he was mostly hidden by the corner of the school. If he decided to bolt, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. He wasn’t afraid to use his powers in front of her now, providing he thought no one else would notice. “Seriously, Valerie does not need to be here. She has better aim than most people.”

“Which you know how, from watching her toss stuff into the garbage can from halfway across the room?”

Danny didn’t answer, but that was fine. Star didn’t really want an answer. She hadn’t pushed Valerie on that front, and she hadn’t really pushed Danny, either, aside from a bit of pointed needling. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to know the truth yet.

The fact that Danny was Phantom, that Paulina had a crush on the kid she routinely called a loser, that Dash idolized the guy he shoved into a locker almost every day, that Valerie had dated Danny despite ranting about Phantom at every opportunity, was more than enough to take in.

If Danny didn’t want to tell them his secret, fine. Whatever. She wouldn’t tell them either. But letting himself be bullied to this extent for the sake of invisibility was just stupid. Maybe it was being a halfa, maybe it was being a teenager, but he did not have the sense of self-preservation he claimed to have. Star had seen social suicide more than once, and this was definitely it.

You could still not draw attention to yourself without being the school punching bag.

Frankly, she’d argue that Danny would draw less attention to himself if he wasn’t always being picked on and showing no physical signs of it. Really, if he could be slammed into the street so hard that it formed a crater and he didn’t even bruise, being shoved into a locker wasn’t going to leave any marks. And it didn’t. Nothing she’d seen did, at least not for any length of time. Eventually, someone else would notice, and that would be the attention he claimed to not want.

Of course, when she tried telling that to him, he didn’t listen.

“Look,” Danny said quietly, “I’m fine with showing you some stuff, but they’ll…. They’ll have questions. And Dash will shoot me with something. You know he will. I’ll just pretend to get sick and—”

“Stuff it, Fenton, you’re doing this.” He blinked at her, and Star rolled her eyes. “Seriously. It’s not going to blow your secret. Trust me, no one is going to put that together without more clues than the fact that you know how to use the stuff your parents invent. Which is totally normal, seeing as they’re your parents. Besides, if you were this freaked out by the very idea of anyone seeing you as a semi-competent ghost hunter, you’d have never led us all when we fought to get our parents back. You even said yourself that you know how to work all their gear. It’s not like that’s going to be a new revelation.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it.

She smirked. “Let me carry that box for you, and you can go back to pretending to be a weakling. Want me to tell them Jazz dropped you off?”

“They’re not going to ask,” Danny muttered, but he helped her pick up the box of weaponry—which was good, because it was heavier than it looked. She grunted and shifted its weight, trying to get a better grip. The last thing she wanted to do was drop this and set something off.

Even knowing what she did, it was hard to remember that Fenton was really strong—especially compared to what she’d seen him do in gym class, which was practically pathetic by anyone’s standards. Sure, she didn’t expect everyone to be able to climb a rope, but he couldn’t run for thirty seconds before gasping for air. For someone who fought a lot, he was really unfit.

Of course, that might be because he spent most of his time flying and phasing and not running and dodging like the rest of them. Or at least not dodging as much as the rest of them, since she’d seen him dodge, and his quick reflexes spoke for themselves. Granted, they all had the chance to hide, and he didn’t.

But all too often, hiding meant being cornered, and being cornered meant being helpless, and she wasn’t doing that again.

Which was why they were doing this.

Besides, Danny owed her for keeping this a secret. Well, technically, either they were even or she owed him for saving her life more than once, but he thought he owed her, and she wasn’t going to correct that assumption.

“Fenton’s here, you guys,” Star called as they got closer. Danny was doing a remarkable job of trying to hide behind her, keeping well out of Dash’s reach without making it overly obvious that that’s exactly what he was doing. Really, she’d never realized how good he was at that kind of thing.

Star dumped the box unceremoniously on the bleachers, unable to hold it any longer, and winced at the clink and clatter of the weapons inside. Luckily, nothing exploded. She glanced over her shoulder at Danny. “What’d you bring?”

“Just a variety of stuff,” he mumbled, edging around her towards the box.

Dash beat him to it. “Outta my way, Fenturd,” he said. He tossed a couple of ecto-guns towards Kwan and kept rummaging. “I don’t see that bazooka thing in here.”

“It’s not a beginner’s weapon.”

Dash rounded on Danny. “You think I can’t handle it?”

Danny’s eye twitched. “It’s best for everyone to start off small.”

“I told him to bring more compact stuff,” Star put in before Dash could get out the retort that had to be on the tip of his tongue. She peeked into the box, spotting a small cylinder which had rolled into the back corner. “Seriously, Fenton? I told you the lipstick laser thing was a bad idea.”

“Ooh, I want that one,” Paulina said, finally putting her compact away and coming over. “Make up is the best weapon a girl can have!”

Star bit her tongue and handed the weapon to Paulina. She couldn’t contradict her in front of everyone and expect to remain friends. Besides, she was pretty sure the whole point of the Fenton Lipstick thing was to make a weapon that was easy to carry around and to hide. In Paulina’s case—and even in her own, if she trusted herself a bit more—it would work perfectly.

Danny claimed these weapons didn’t actually harm humans, but she was pretty sure he was a halfa because of some lab accident—can’t just have been contaminated food if he was the only one out of the whole family affected—so she didn’t put too much stock in any of the so-called safety features of these things.

Still.

There were enough ghosts around that she was willing to take the risk.

Of course, Dash and Kwan were already shooting at each other with ecto-guns and trying to dodge the blasts, so she should find out soon enough how detrimental it was for a human to be hit.

“Is that a whip?” Valerie asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny as she looked up from the box.

“Jack-o’-nine-tails. You’ve probably seen my dad using it. It’s, um, a little more advanced than some of the other stuff. Not really point and shoot, I mean, but if you can get a ghost—”

“I’ll play around with it,” she said, scooping it out of the box and heading to the far corner of the football field, well away from Paulina and Dash and Kwan.

“You thought I’d be good with a whip?” Star asked, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“You’re a cheerleader,” Danny muttered. “You have to have a good arm. Here,” he said, abruptly changing the subject by pulling a baton-like weapon out of the box and handing it to her. “This is Mom’s latest version of the Fenton Utility Weapon. It’s similar to the version you used on the pirate ship, but it can do a lot more stuff. If you don’t like that, try the wrist ray. That’s Sam’s favourite.”

Star pressed a button on the side, and a green light shot out of the top like a light saber. Danny jerked back, narrowly avoiding the beam. “Sorry,” Star said. “I didn’t know it was going to do that.”

“Press that button again,” he said. She did, and the light vanished. “Now grab it at the top and twist. Just, like, half a turn. Point it away from me and press the button.”

This time, something like a cattle prod shot out of the end and crackled with electricity.

“You can experiment with it; there are a bunch of different settings, but the button is always the main on/off activation. Press and hold it to activate the safety when you’re done. I’ll, uh, I guess I’ll set up some targets and see if I can convince the others to actually use them.”

“I didn’t invite everyone just to mess with you. You know that, right?” Danny avoided looking at her, so Star added, “I figured you’d say no if I asked.”

“So you did it anyway? I told you, I don’t want to stand out in a crowd.”

“That’s not what this is about. It’s…. Danny, you’ll always be able to fight back against ghosts. You’re a weapon; the only extra stuff you need to carry with you is a thermos. Do you even remember what it’s like to feel helpless?”

He snorted. “Of course I do. Being the kid no one pays attention to is great, since it’s easier for me to sneak away, but sometimes I can’t use my powers. Case and point, the last time you used something like that.”

Star frowned. “You practically equipped the entire class. How exactly were you helpless?”

“Fine, so maybe that’s not the best example. But even when we were stuck in detention together, I couldn’t really fight back until you were out of the room.” He hesitated. “And, I mean, yeah, in hindsight, pushing you through the floor might not have been the smartest idea, especially when I didn’t know what you were going to fall onto, but I’m still not great at clones. The point is, my hands are tied if someone who doesn’t know my secret is right there, watching me, and all the ghosts know it. Including some of the ones I haven’t run into before, apparently.”

There was a yelp from the middle of the field, followed by Paulina’s indignant, “Watch where you’re pointing those! You almost messed up my hair.”

Star wasn’t entirely surprised that Dash’s response was more laughter than apology.

“Yeah, okay, but believe it or not, these guys? And me, obviously? Always helpless in a ghost attack. No defense. It’s basically run, hide, hunker down, and hope someone—you, the Red Huntress, even your parents—comes along and saves us. And it sucks. A lesson in how to use your parents’ stuff might not stop Dash from whaling on you, but if he decides to buy something—”

“He’s just going to keep that ecto-gun. You know that, right?”

“—then he’ll have a way to fight back and defend himself. That assurance is invaluable.”

“He took the net-gun, too. Neither of those is invaluable.”

Star growled. “Fine. You’re not happy. I get it. I’m sorry for thinking I could help my friends.” Sarcasm wasn’t a good point to end this conversation on, not when he was helping her, so she added, “Thanks for not backing out when you saw them.” She couldn’t keep her annoyance and exasperation out of her tone, but it was marginally better than saying nothing.

“I promised you a weapon. And they would’ve found out you had one sooner rather than later.” He shrugged. “It might be better this way.”

Great, now she felt horrible for overreacting. Star took a deep breath, let it out, and then said, “Yeah. But I’m sorry. Really. I should’ve run it by you.”

“Trust me, this is not the worst surprise I’ve gotten in my life.” He grinned at her. “See if you can find all the weapons in that. My last count is twelve, but I don’t know if I’ve found them all, either.”

Danny ran off to try to convince Dash and Kwan not to shoot at each other—or maybe to tell Paulina not to try to use the laser to scorch a picture into the grass—and Star couldn’t help but laugh. It was just….

Even with all he put up with as Fenton, even with all he did as Phantom, he was still nice enough to take the time out of his night to make good on a promise to her. She knew Dash’s opinion wasn’t going to change overnight and that he’d have Danny in a locker tomorrow, given the opportunity. She knew Paulina would sneer at him and call him a loser even if she never relinquished the lipstick weapon. She knew Kwan wasn’t going to see this as anything but a bit of fun—bonus points if a lot of it came at Danny’s expense, most likely.

But she also knew it could be a start, and he couldn’t even see that.

Star jogged closer to Valerie—not near enough to be within range of the whip, which Val seemed to be getting the hang of very quickly, but near enough that she was sufficiently far enough away from the other three. Danny was right; Valerie was good, even with a weapon she hadn’t used before, and the others…. Well, not so much. But that might just be because they lacked focus.

That and Valerie’s black belt training, since that probably helped somehow, albeit not necessarily when it came to using a new weapon.

Star tried multiple combinations of movement on the puzzle box that was the Fenton Utility Weapon. She’d found five more weapons—pole extension, machete-like blade, mini grappling hook, electrified whip, and what was presumably a phase-proof weighted net—when she heard Dash and Kwan cheering, followed by Paulina’s trilling laugh.

Somehow, it didn’t come as a surprise to see Danny entangled in the net-gun’s phase-proof net.

It certainly couldn’t be the first time he’d been caught in one, but he could hardly get out of it using his ghost powers, and the fact that Dash was beginning to jog around and drag him meant he couldn’t get out the way anyone else might, either.

Star ran over. “Cut it out, you guys. Fenton’s helping us.”

“It’s fine,” Kwan said. “We’re training.”

Dash grinned as he ran past her. “Yeah, Fentoenail’s the ghost, and we need to wear him down.”

Right now, all they were doing was covering Danny’s clothes with grass stains as he tried and failed to wrestle free. If he wasn’t so resilient, he’d end up with a bad friction burn, but as it was….

“Don’t worry about it,” Paulina said as Dash passed Danny to Kwan. “They’re just having some fun.”

Danny was right. She shouldn’t have invited them. She didn’t even know how to make them stop. They weren’t going to listen to her, especially if Paulina was on their side.

She still had to try, though. “C’mon,” Star yelled at them, “Fenton’s doing us a favour! Don’t you wanna be able to do something the next time a ghost attacks instead of just running away?”

She could see that Danny had set up targets at the far end of the field. She could also see that they hadn’t been used. At least, she was guessing that the scorch marks in the grass were from when the weapons had been aimed at him, not at the targets, since they were similar to the ones left earlier and, well, since they led away from the actual targets. Dash and Kwan should have decent aim, and even Paulina….

“This was a stupid idea, wasn’t it?” Star said to Paulina when no one answered. “The only one who’s getting anything out of this is me. And Valerie, I guess.” Star glanced over her shoulder to see what Valerie was doing—surely she’d try to step up to help Fenton? They were still friends—only to realize that Valerie was no longer there.

“What are you talking about?” Paulina said. “I’ve got this cool new lipstick weapon. I can’t wait to show the ghost boy. I’m going to ask him to teach me to use it, and we’ll spend so much time together, and—”

A high-pitched scream cut Paulina off. Dash. He and Kwan had stopped dragging Danny and were instead running back towards her and Paulina, and behind them—

“Yes, you should run, whelps,” Skulker said, levelling a pair of missile launchers at them. “I am the Ghost Zone’s Greatest Hunter. My reputation should precede me.”

He’s baiting Danny. Star didn’t know why it surprised her. He was ignoring Danny for now, focusing on them to force Danny into action. Taking him while he was strapped in the net would be cheating, not just easy prey. But as long as they were there, Danny couldn’t—

“C’mon, Star, move,” Paulina grabbed her hand and pulled, and Star obediently started running.

She was always running.

She hated running.

“I…I can’t….” How could she say this and not completely lose her social standing in Paulina’s eyes? “It’s my fault Fenton’s here. I’ve gotta help him. You guys hide.”

“It’s just Fenton,” Paulina hissed, tugging her harder as Star tried to slow. “He’ll be fine. He always is. Besides, he brought all those weapons. He has to know how to use them.”

“He needs to get out of the net first.” She jerked her hand free. “Just hide. I’ll find you as soon as I cut him free.”

“The ghost boy can help him.”

The ghost boy was him. Danny might be able to get free easily enough once the others were gone, but if something slowed him down—

“It’s my fault he’s here,” Star said again, and then she turned and started running the other way. Paulina shouted after her, but when Star finally looked back, Paulina was rounding the corner of the school.

Dash and Kwan would be able to keep her safe. They still had an ecto-gun, maybe two, between them. And Paulina still had the lipstick weapon. Valerie…. Star didn’t even know where Valerie was. Somewhere safe, probably, having spotted the ghost and run in a different direction? Except, if she’d seen the ghost, wouldn’t she have said something? Or, more accurately, screamed something?

Star tried to remember what combination would yield the knife on the Fenton Utility Weapon. When she wound up on something that looked like garden shears, she deemed it good enough and kept running, holding the weapon out to one side in case she tripped.

She was not exactly inconspicuous, and it wasn’t long before she was back to wondering if she was even sane. Skulker was pointing the weapons at her now, and she was still running towards them, and Danny—

Why wasn’t Danny freezing or blasting his way out of the net?

Why hadn’t he transformed?

Why was he just sitting there?

What the heck was he waiting f—?

A blast of pink energy hit Skulker’s form. Star ducked on instinct, despite still being over ten feet away, and only looked up again when she heard the Red Huntress speak. “Hey, ghost scum, scram or see what it’s like to face a real hunter!”

Star scrambled forward, closing the distance between her and Danny while the Red Huntress distracted the ghost. “Why the heck didn’t you transform or try to get away?” she hissed as she made a clumsy attempt to cut him free. “We’re lucky the Red Huntress showed up when she did!”

“Lucky,” Danny said flatly. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it.” He took the Fenton Utility Weapon from her shaking hands and cut himself free. That was just as well; she could see at a glance that there was no way either of them could untangle the knot by hand, not when it was pulled that tight, and she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to use his ice powers in front of the Red Huntress.

He collapsed the weapon, handed it back to her, and crawled free. “Keep low,” he said, as if she planned to do anything else while Skulker and the Red Huntress traded blows practically on top of them.

She followed him to the bleachers. As cover went, it was barely better than nothing. “Why aren’t you going to help?” she whispered. “Even if you don’t want to transform here, you can run off and—”

“She can handle this one,” Danny said, nodding in the direction of the Red Huntress. “She’s a good shot, and I don’t want to push my luck.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t want her to realize that there are two ghosts here. It’s not exactly a secret that she hates Phantom.”

Star frowned. “Why didn’t…?” Maybe she shouldn’t ask. Maybe she shouldn’t press him. But, given what she knew, his inaction seemed at odds with the way he usually went about trying to save them all. “I don’t get it. This is a ghost. I know the Red Huntress is here now, but you couldn’t have known she was coming. Why not just free yourself once we were all running away? You know no one’s going to look back until after they hope they’re out of sight.”

Danny shrugged. “Cameras?” He didn’t even try to sound particularly convinced.

“Fenton, c’mon. Remember how I said I wasn’t stupid?”

He sighed, looking utterly unconcerned by the firefight going on in the air barely twenty feet away. “Look, the Red Huntress has a way to detect ghosts. It’s, like, a smaller, way more inconspicuous version of Mom and Dad’s Fenton Finder. And it’s accurate. And when it goes off, if she can get away to help, she does. So I wasn’t surprised to see her turn up.”

Star stared at him. “You can’t know that she wasn’t busy. That she was close. You just…. You can’t. Which makes you not trying to save our butts kinda dangerous, don’t you think? Just because you handed us all weapons ten minutes ago, doesn’t mean we have a clue how to use them effectively. I couldn’t even….” She waved the Fenton Utility Weapon around vaguely. “This kind of thing takes practice. More practice than five seconds.”

He had the nerve to smile at her. “Glad you recognize that. Do you think you want to stick with that weapon or try a different one? Like I said, Sam—”

“Danny. I’m serious. I don’t…. Even if you weren’t really hurt by Skulker’s weapons, we could’ve been. The Red Huntress….” Star trailed off, watching as the hunter in question pulled out a thermos of her own—not a Fenton Thermos, despite the obvious similarities—and captured Skulker. “She’s not always going to be there. And neither are you. Which is why I want to learn something. But I can’t…. If you planned this, if you talked to Skulker and the Red Huntress and—”

“Wait, hold on, you seriously think I planned this?” Danny looked incredulous. “Star, I don’t plan ghost attacks. I don’t stage anything to look like the good guy, whatever my parents think. And even if, for some obscure reason, I decided to try, you really think the Red Huntress would agree to help? No. Just, no. Even if I asked her as Fenton, she doesn’t trust ghosts. She’d never agree to a crazy plan like that.”

“Well, then how else can you explain being so…so nonchalant about all of this? You didn’t even look particularly worried when I came to help you out of the net!”

Danny let out a slow breath, glanced over in time to watch the Red Huntress speed away on her jet sled, and turned back to Star. “Okay. Look. I didn’t know Skulker was going to show up until a few seconds before he actually did. That’s usually all the warning I get. But I knew the Red Huntress was close. I saw her. And I know how sensitive her watch is. I knew she was going to hear it beep and then find a way to run off and come back to fight Skulker. I…I know who she is. And how dedicated she is. Even if she’d rather have a crack at Phantom, she’s not going to just let a ghost go when they’re threatening her friends—or anyone else in town.”

Star frowned. He wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying, was he? That was ridiculous. Just because he wasn’t the only classmate she had who ran off when a ghost attacked—

“Is everyone okay?”

That was Valerie’s voice.

A few seconds later, she was running around the corner of the school.

Her eyes barely scanned the football field before they zeroed in on Danny and Star, despite the fact that they were still crouched in shadow beneath the bleachers.

“Star? Danny? Are you all right?” Valerie ran closer, circling around the bleachers to meet them from the back. “Did Paulina and Dash and Kwan get away okay?”

Valerie never had liked Phantom.

“We’re fine,” Danny said. “Glad you got away safely, too.”

“You two were cutting it close,” Val said. “Star’s right; we really needed this training session. I…. Thanks for showing us your parents’ stuff, Danny.”

Danny hadn’t really shown her anything. He’d confirmed that the weapon Valerie had chosen was a whip, and she’d figured the rest out for herself. Without nearly decapitating anyone or, as far as Star had seen, even shocking herself with its electricity feature.

Like she was familiar with the weaponry, if not the weapon.

“We’re going to have to do it again,” Star murmured. She had to be wrong. This…. No. This was Valerie. Her best friend, aside from Paulina. “Might not bother to invite the others if they won’t take it seriously, though.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. “I know what you mean. They never listen to me. I was thrilled you listened to me and asked Danny to do this. I should’ve thought of that ages ago. But if we can at least get you to be able to defend yourself, we can work on the others.”

Was she pretending her extensive martial arts training was enough to give her an edge to using ghost hunting weapons, to the point that it didn’t matter that she should be completely unfamiliar with the technology?

“I, uh, vote that they don’t come if I do this again,” Danny said.

He was pretending this was normal.

He was always pretending.

So was Valerie. And, now, so was she. Even with them. Even with each other. Even….

Oh, man, should she tell Valerie her suspicions? Even if she never mentioned anything about Danny? Would that be enough to get Val to open up to her if she was right, or would it just make her brush it all off? Danny had tried to throw her off the scent, but his secret was different, and she and Valerie had always told each other everything. Which boys they kinda sorta liked, what they actually dreamed of doing when they were adults, as opposed to what they thought they’d end up doing, what they really thought about—

“I’m off Monday night,” Valerie offered. “I wouldn’t mind trying a few more of your parents’ weapons, Danny, if you’re up for this again. Just the three of us. We don’t have to tell the others, and Lancer usually doesn’t give us an awful amount of homework right away.” She glanced at Star but said to Danny, “Sam and Tucker can come instead. I mean, you’ve probably shown them this stuff already, but Star and I can use the extra help.”

Maybe this wasn’t really happening. Maybe she was just dreaming this, and she’d wake up and she’d have to live through another Thursday and then they’d get to the real training session that night, where none of this had happened.

Except Star’s heart was still thundering in her chest, and she already had a cramp in her leg from crouching in this position, and she didn’t even need to raise a hand to know that she was shaking.

“That works for me, unless I get detention or something.”

Valerie snorted. “Try not to sleep in class or miss it entirely.”

“I mean, I always try.”

“Guys.” Star didn’t realize she’d actually spoken aloud until they were both looking at her. “Another training session sounds great, really. I could definitely use it. Just…. I don’t want to plan it right this minute. I’ve got…stuff to think about.”

“Like what you’re going to say to Paulina if she broke a nail and blames you?” Valerie asked. Star shot her a look, and she relented. “Okay, okay, I might still be a little bit bitter over the way she cut me out. But, really, I’m glad you’re finally taking the initiative and doing this. You need to be able to protect yourself.”

“We all do,” Star said, but they already could. She was the only one of the three who couldn’t. They were willing to help her, and that was great, but….

Seriously.

How had she not noticed this before?

Especially after she’d figured out what was up with Fenton?

Not that she’d known exactly until she’d tricked him into confessing, but still. She’d known something was up. And with Valerie, she…hadn’t.

But something was very clearly up, and now Star was almost certain she knew what it was, and she just….

“Why don’t we head to the Nasty Burger? The others are probably there anyway, and you can catch up with them. It’ll calm you down. You still look pretty freaked out, Star.”

Was that Danny telling her that he knew that she’d figured it out? The thing he’d hinted at but never explicitly told her?

“You wanna bring your parents’ stuff to the Nasty Burger?” Valerie asked. “And you want me to walk in there with you? You think I want to lose my job?”

“Well, you guys can go ahead. I’ll just stash the stuff in my locker or something and meet up with you after.”

“The school’s locked.”

“Then I can take it home. Or phone Jazz. Or just skip it entirely. I mean, Sam and Tucker—”

“We’ll help you pack up,” Star interrupted, “and you can phone Jazz to pick you up again while I text Paulina. Valerie’s right; she’ll be with the boys. We’ll, um, meet up with you another time, unless Jazz is okay with running the stuff home on her own and you can catch up with us later.”

Star knew she wasn’t mistaking the look of relief that crossed Danny’s face. “Sounds good.”

It was what he’d asked her to do: cover for him when the others couldn’t.

She just…hadn’t imagined it would be like this.

Of course, she’d never imagined any of this. How could Danny and Valerie—

“C’mon, Star.” Valerie pulled her up to her feet, and Star couldn’t find the energy to resist. Danny was ignoring them, talking on the phone to Jazz—or Sam or Tucker pretending to be Jazz, for all she knew. “You’ll feel better with a small, low-fat chocolate shake in you. My treat.”

“Thanks,” Star murmured.

“Trust me,” Valerie said as she let Star collapse onto the front bench of the bleachers and began to pack what was left of the FentonWorks weaponry back into the box, “some training days are rougher than others. You can’t let one bad experience turn you off. The key is to stick to it.”

“Right.” Star wasn’t going to disagree. This had been her idea. She’d asked Danny to do this, and she’d asked everyone to come here. Including Valerie, who obviously didn’t need it nearly as much as the rest of them but had been happy to come anyway.

But maybe that was okay. Maybe she didn’t have to confront Valerie on this. She was still coping with finding out about Danny; she could broach the subject with Valerie later. Much later. Or maybe she could wait for Valerie to feel comfortable with telling her on her own. That was possible, right? She was already keeping Danny’s secret. She could keep Valerie’s, too.

She didn’t have to mention that it was odd that Valerie knew exactly how to disengage a tangled, torn net from a net-gun that she had supposedly never used before.

She didn’t have to ask how Valerie knew to collapse and then activate the safety on the Fenton Utility Weapon.

She could just…turn a blind eye to it for now. Like Danny was, and probably Sam and Tucker, too.

She could let a couple of the best ghost hunters in town teach her how to defend herself against ghosts, even though neither of them would admit to being nearly as good as they were in front of the other.

Yeah.

She could do that.

And if the opportunity ever came up to try to subtly convince Valerie that Phantom wasn’t the evil piece of ghost scum she thought he was, well, Star could take it. She owed Danny that much, since this clearly hadn’t worked out as she’d hoped. Valerie already knew Star supported Phantom, so it wouldn’t be strange. And if Star had to hint that she knew Valerie’s secret to get her to listen, well, she could cross that bridge when she came to it.

Some things really needed to be taken one day at a time, and Star was good at that.

-|-

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gvf-imagine · 4 years

Text

The sweater part 2

(Josh x reader)

Trigger warning: domestic abuse!

Josh ended up texting you later that night, or technically , the next morning around 3 am. He just wanted to make sure you made it home ok, which you thought was very sweet of him. It had been a few days since you met him at the bar, the two of you had been texting ever since, he even sneaks in a phone call one night when his girlfriend was asleep and your boyfriend was out with his friends. Hearing his voice again was so nice and it took you right back to the night you met him. Conversation flowed easily with you and Josh, day by day you were learning more and more about each other. He told you he was in a band with his two brothers and friend, and promised he'd take you to a show one day.

Tonight was different, you grab your phone in a shaken frenzy. You click on Josh’s number as you get in your car. Tears running down your face, you wait as the phone rings. You hoped he would answer and that he wasn't around his girlfriend. You felt bad calling him out of the blue , but, there was no one else you could go to.

“Hello?” Josh answers.

Thank god.

You sniffle, happy to hear his voice.

“Josh can- can I come over?” you ask trying your hardest not to focus on the pain.

“Are you alright?” Josh asks immediately, he could tell something was very wrong, he could hear that you were crying and he was instantly worried.

“No I'm not ok, I need you , I need to come over.. Can I?” you reply hurriedly. Hopefully he would say yes because you were already in your car driving nowhere in particular.

“Uhm my girlfriend is here… could I meet you somewhere?” Josh replies, annoyed that you couldn't just come right to his house like he wanted you to.

“Do you know where sheehan park is? Can you meet me there?” you ask a block away from said park.

“Yes of course, ill be there in five minutes ok?” he replied, you could hear him grabbing his keys in the background and shuffling to put his shoes on.

“Ok thank you” you say pulling into the park's parking lot. You hang up and tip your head back resting on the headrest. The blood that was coming out of your nose or maybe your mouth pooled on your face.

Your boyfriend found your phone and seen you had been texting Josh for the past few days, flirting even. He was so angry , so angry. His face was red and looked like he was about to explode, and he did. For the first time in your relationship with him , he got physical with you. He punched you multiple times in the face, one of your eyes was swollen shut and your lips felt like they were on fire, you almost couldn't drive your car but you had to get away from him. It felt good to finally relax, knowing help was coming, knowing Josh was coming. You worried about how he would react to the whole situation. You're Not his responsibility after all what was he really supposed to do?

You heard the crunching of gravel as a car pulled up next to yours, your vision was blurry, and you felt tired, struggling to keep your eye open.

You hear your car door rip open in a hurry.

“Y\n! Y\n! What happened? What happened to you?!” Josh asked hectically. He grabbed you , wrapping his arm around your shoulder and his other arm looped under your legs as he scooped you gently from your car.

“he .. seen my phone” you whisper , falling out of consciousness.

“Hey hey you gotta stay awake, don't fall asleep” Josh urges as he sets you in his back seat. He knew you most likely had a concussion and that falling asleep could cause lots of issues.

You tried your hardest to keep yourself awake.

“That FUCKERRRR!!!!!!!” Josh screamed as he slammed his door shut and sent his fist into his steering wheel causing his horn to go off.

He was pissed, how could that fucking asshole put his hands on you. He would pay for this. Soon the car was moving, trees and buildings past your window, which Josh had rolled down hoping the cold air would help keep you awake.

Minutes later he pulls into a driveway and runs up to the front door, you watch as another man steps out. Josh begins frantically talking to him and then both of them run to you.

“Y\n this is my brother Jake, we’re gonna take you inside ok?” Josh explains. You simply nod, the blood on your face was clotted now and stopped other blood from coming out.

“Jesus Christ” you hear Jake say sympathetically. They carried you through the front door and laid you lightly on the couch. Josh dropped to your side examining your wounds.

“Jakey get me a wash cloth and warm water” Josh speaks.

‘Hey hey hey we gotta call the cops” Jake responds urgently .

“No don't” you protest softly.

“What do you mean DON'T? He hit you y\n, he could have killed you ! he needs to be in jail” Josh replies. He grabs his phone and begins to report the incident to the police. Josh knew there was something off about your boyfriend and now he was cursing himself, he felt like what happened to you was his fault, he shouldn't have texted you.

Jake comes to you and gently washes your face, the warm water felt so good against your painful bruises and cuts. You wince a little as he goes over your swollen eye.

“I'm so sorry , but we have to get this cleaned so it doesn't get infected ok? My name's Jake, what's yours?” he says, hoping conversation will keep you awake.

“I'm y\n” you reply, trying to ignore the sting of the peroxide Jake put on your face.

“It's nice to meet you y\n, unfortunate circumstances, but don't worry the cops are gonna get that bastard, you're safe now with me and josh”

Josh walks back in the room and for the first time you were able to actually get a good look at him now that Jake cleared the blood from your eyes. He was all dressed up, he looked nice.

“Why are you dressed up?” you ask , Josh looks down at himself and waves it off.

“I had a date with my girlfriend tonight but” he replies and shakes his head.

“Oh I’m sorry Josh, I didn't know you had a date .. I should go” you say trying to get up.

“No no no” Josh says lightly pressing you down by your shoulders.

“Stay here tonight, Jake , Sam and Danny will take care of you” he says.

“Josh I can't impose like that” you reply.

“I wasn't asking you y\n , you're staying here, I'd let you stay at my house but my girlfriend is there” he implores with a soft tone. He was worried about you and knew you didn't have anywhere else to go that was safe.

“I'll go on my date, i'll make it a short night and get back here as soon as I can” he speaks.

“No Josh , take your time, enjoy your night, I'll be ok” you replied, you didn't want his evening to be ruined because of you.

“Call me if you need anything, anything at all ok?” he asks looking down at you, you simply nod, he offers you a sad smile before saying goodbye. He walks out the door and leaves you with Jake and your thoughts.

“Danny!” Jake calls as he turns on the TV.

A man with lovely dark hair jogs down the stairs, his face falling with worry and confusion when he sees you.

“Hey…whats up?” he asks as his eyes move from you to Jake.

“This is y\n she's staying with us for a while, her car is at sheehan park, I need you to come with me to get it for her” Jake explains with a sigh. He was stressed, he'd never seen a girl beat up by a man. He felt bad, his heart broke for you.

Danny knew what had happened to you just by the look in Jake's eyes.

“Did Josh go after him?” Danny asks, noticing Josh’s absence.

“No he has a date with Audrey” Jake answers, grabbing his keys off the table.

“Where are your keys, love?” he asks looking at you now.

“They're on the table” you reply nodding in the general direction.

“Ok we're going to go get your car, if you need anything Sam is just upstairs just yell for him ok? Well be back in a few minutes” Jake says before him and Danny walk out the door.

The second the door shuts all you want to do is sleep, you were warm, comfortable and safe. You were even happy, despite the hell you'd just been through, you were closer to josh now which made you feel so much better.

You couldn't stay at Jake's house forever though, you'd need to figure something out, tomorrow though… Tonight , you rest.

#the sweater #greta van fleet #gretavanfleet #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

Text

People, July 20

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Nick Cordero -- a life cut short by COVID-19

Page 1: Chatter -- Tom Hanks joking about writing and producing and starring in the new film Greyhound, Shawn Johnson on battling an eating disorder after the 2008 Beijing Games, Kevin Hart on how his wife Eniko feels at 6 months pregnant, Kristen Bell on reactions to news that her 5-year-old daughter wears diapers, Gavin Rossdale on his divorce from Gwen Stefani being his most embarrassing moment, Ricky Martin on his quarantine experience

Page 2: 5 Things We’re Talking About This Week -- Kanye West says he’s running for president, Beavis and Butt-Head make a comeback, Michelle Pfeiffer reveals a relatable makeup mishap, Floor is Lava heats up on Netflix, Baby Yoda takes over breakfast

Page 5: Contents

Page 6: StarTracks -- Stars in the Sun -- Brooke Shields rocking a star-spangled bikini during a dip in her pool in the Hamptons

Page 7: Pregnant Katy Perry and fiance Orlando Bloom took a beach stroll with their dog in Santa Barbara, Luke Evans cooled off during a boat ride in Ibiza, John Legend twinning in matching swimsuits with son Miles, Sailor Brinkley-Cook celebrated her 22nd birthday with mom Christie Brinkley and sister Alexa Ray Joel, Gabrielle Union

Page 8: Jason Derulo performed without an audience due to the pandemic for the Wawa Welcome America virtual festival, Emily Ratajkowski wore a mask while out for a walk with her beloved dog Colombo, Serena Williams and daughter Olympia hit the tennis court in matching gear, Carson Kressley cohosted the livestreamed celebration of the 50th annual N.Y.C. Pride March

Page 9: Royals Back in Action -- Prince William and Princess Kate Middleton celebrated the 72nd anniversary of the National Health Service, Prince Charles visited Cotswold Farm Park, Camilla Duchess of Cornwall stepped out at the Swindon Fire Station to thank firefighters and hospital staff and paramedics

Page 10: Five months after losing husband Kobe Bryant and daughter Gianna Vanessa Bryant celebrated Independence Day with her daughters Natalia and Bianka and Capri, Chris Pine flashed a peace sign during a grocery store run, Jessica Simpson celebrated son Ace’s seventh birthday

Page 11: British racing driver Lewis Hamilton took a knee against racism before the Formula One Grand Prix of Austria, Luke Wilson playing golf in Bel Air, Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas shared a laugh during a morning stroll, Maren Morris and son Hayes went motor-floating

Page 15: Scoop -- Meghan Markle felt unprotected by the palace

Page 16: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are free to speak their minds, Jada Pinkett Smith speaks out after affair allegations with August Alsina

Page 18: Heart Monitor -- Chris Evans and Lily James dating?, Kacey Musgraves and Ruston Kelly separated, Camila Mendes and Grayson Vaughn heating up, Julia Roberts and Danny Moder happy anniversary

Page 21: Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt amicably co-parenting, D.L. Hughley tackles COVID-19 and racism

Page 23: Sean Astin -- my mother’s Patty Duke’s legacy on mental health

Page 24: Mandy Moore on family and love and making music

Page 27: Passages, Ghislaine Maxwell charged

Page 29: Stories to Make You Smile -- thanks to a colorful custom soundboard a dog speaks and she has a lot to say, this boy wants to help save the Earth one park at a time

Page 31: People Picks -- Greyhound

Page 32: The Old Guard, Brett Eldredge -- Sunday Drive

Page 33: P-Valley, Crikey! It’s the Irwins: Life in Lockdown, One to Watch -- Little Voice’s Brittany O’Grady

Page 34: Brave New World

Page 35: Palm Springs, Margo Price -- That’s How Rumors Get Started, Q&A -- Leslie Odom Jr. of Hamilton

Page 37: Books, Star Picks: What We’re Reading -- Tracee Ellis Ross is reading Me Talk Pretty One Day, Chris Hemsworth is reading The Boy, the mole, the Fox and the Horse, Elle Fanning is reading The Nightingale

Page 38: Cover Story -- Broadway Star Nick Cordero 1978-2020 -- a brave battle and a family’s heartbreak -- after three months in the hospital fighting COVID-19 the actor and new dad lost his life to the virus; how his story and his wife’s unending love and devotion inspired people around the world

Page 45: Raven-Symone: Introducing the Real Me -- after decades in the spotlight the former child star is independent in love and finally in control

Page 48: A Fort Hood Soldier Murdered -- what happened to Vanessa Guillen? -- months after she mysteriously disappeared the 20-year-old was found dead; inside the shocking case

Page 50: Carl Reiner 1922-2020 -- Farewell to a Comedy Legend -- creator of The Dick Van Dyke Show, father of Rob Reiner, BFF of Mel Brooks, mentor to Steve Martin, he entered and exited laughing

Page 52: A Demand for Answers -- a young man’s tragic death -- Elijah McClain died last summer after police tackled and restrained him as he walked home from the store. His family is still asking why

Page 54: NASCAR’s Bubba Wallace -- Driving for Change -- the sport’s only top-ranked African-American driver takes on the fight for racial equality

Page 58: Poo-Pourri founder Suzy Batiz -- the sweet smell of success -- the mom of three overcame abuse, bankruptcy and depression then built am empire by taking the P.U. out of poo

Page 63: Lindsay Ell surviving sexual assault -- after years of hiding her pain the country singer opens up and finds healing by helping fellow survivors

Page 66: A Friendship Born in the COVID-19 ICU -- her kind words helped save his life -- an unexpected bond between a patient fighting to stay alive and a hospital housekeeper made all the difference just when it mattered the most

Page 68: Patricia Heaton -- embrace your second act -- the actress shares adventurous stories of transformation including her own in a new book

Page 69: Mike Monteleone

Page 71: Liz Smothers, Ta’u Pupu’a

Page 73: Dani Klein Modisett, Yudi Bennett

Page 77: COVID-19 Surges Again -- as new infections set records epidemiologist Dr. Michael Osterholm talks about steps we can take to slow the spread

Page 81: Summer Beauty Issues Solved -- Ciara

Page 87: Second Look -- Lin-Manuel Miranda and Phillipa Soo in Hamilton

Page 88: One Last Thing -- Charlize Theron

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doof-doofblog · 4 years

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"I Want To Cash In!"

Tuesday 15th September 2020

Good evening folks! The majority of you will know I've already posted once today, this is going to be my second post of the day following up tonight's episode, so I'm completely up to date with you all! The previous episode (last night's) was a bit of devastating blow for Chantelle, Gray is just finding ways from stopping her leaving, it seems each time she's attempted to leave he's managed to take it one step further and stop her in her path.

Let's jump right into it, oh my gosh how heartbreaking is the opening scene!!! Chantelle has gone off on a holiday with her family but she has devastatingly had to leave her children behind, she's in the seaside cafe all on her own, staring out the window. All you can hear is the sound of rain against the glass window and the sound of seagulls. She looks like she's lost everything in the world. At the holiday apartment, the rest of the Taylor family are playing games and having fun, Mitch is videoing them to remember the memories, but he is just as miserable, he claims it's the same and as much fun without Chantelle. He can't seem to understand what's bothering his daughter, he decides to leave the fun and goes off to find her.

Back on the Square, Ian is finding every opportunity he can to dodge Max! Pretending to be on the phone and then having to hide behind the door of his house! Sorry, but it's pathetic! Why doesn't Ian just be the bigger man and come clean and just apologise and be truthful about what he's done! He's digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself! Meanwhile, Ruby has gone to visit Martin in the hospital, fantastic news is that he's awake and he's up and out of bed! The main thing he wants to know is if the Police know who it was who attacked him, fortunately for Vinny, Martin didn't see anything! Ruby is completely over the moon to see Martin looking well, so much so that she drops the L-Bomb on him!! But before he gets a chance to reply, he is wheeled off in the other direction. Did Ruby mean to say the L word? Or has she come to realise her true feelings for him during recent events. Another big question is, does Martin feel the same way about her?!

Hmmm, so is Ian actually struggling financially? It's probably understandably that his businesses aren't coping at the moment, possibly due to the current pandemic? But also the fact that he now owes Max some money, will this meeting be the only opportunity he has of getting things under control?

In time, Mitch eventually finds Chantelle. He finds in her the seaside cafe and he comes in tow with a huge elephant teddy for her. It's clear she's been crying, he gently places it on the table in front of her and she scoops it up and holds it as if picking wanting to hold her children ever so tightly. Mitch pulls up a chair and joins his daughter, she is looking so heartbroken and lost. Mitch begins to apologise for not being there for her as much as he should've been, but little does he know that's not the thought that's on his daughter's mind right now. He promises that he'll always be there for her from now on, Chantelle stares at him with tears filling her eyes, he softly asks her the most important question "What's wrong?" ... she sighs and tells him that she's missing her children. Now, of course she is missing her children but she hasn't given her Dad the main reason as to why, she hasn't given him the full story. She claims she just wanted them all to be together, Mitch then takes it upon himself to go back to Walford to collect her kids! Much to Chantelle's shock, but deep down as he goes and promises he won't leave without them, part of me believes she actually has hope that her Dad will return with his Grandchildren. Once again, Chantelle's hopes are lifted at another chance of getting away from Gray, but this is EastEnders - we know what's going to happen, right?!

Meanwhile, in the Vic, Ian is having a meeting with Douglas on his potential chance of becoming a part on the Planning Committee. Sharon is chatting away with Tina about Frankie when Ian enter's the pub. I feel sorry for Sharon really, she is doing everything she can to make it up to Ian. Giving him compliments and speaking highly of him in front of the fellow businessman. Ian is just shutting her down over and over again, not even saying that they're even friends anymore. In all seriousness, Sharon has done nothing wrong! She can't force feelings that she doesn't feel. If there's anyone Ian should be angry with, it's Dotty, for serving him stories and making him believe something that wasn't true. Sharon is literally just wanting her old friend back, but Ian seems to be having none of it! In the cafe, Max is on his phone to someone, does he owe someone money? He make the odd one-liner joke about having to hold Ian upside down and turn his pockets inside out to make sure he gets his money back. I'm sure the longer Ian tries to dodge the bullet and hide from Max, the more suspicious and angry he's going to get! Only, Kathy seems to overhear Max's phone conversation, and says states that he shouldn't be pestering Ian for his money, but Max makes the perfect point and claims that they were businesses partners. Kathy suddenly let's slip "He doesn't need this right now!" ... Bang! Max is suspicious, what did she mean by that?! He moves in closer to her "What has he done with my money, Kathy?!" He knows something isn't right! Kathy stands her ground and doesn't give anything away, she just tells him he'll have to wait, just a little bit longer!

At the Mitchell household, it looks as if Ben has now dragged in Jay to help with getting hold of Danny. I'm quite surprised as Jay has never been one for trouble. He's always stayed clear of Ben and his dodgy deals and gangsters. Jay makes it perfectly clear to Ben that he's not happy about it, he even asks if Phil is aware of Ben's plan. Suddenly, Callum joins them in the room, he can sense that he's walked in on a conversation between them. He asks if everything is okay and Ben assures him that everything is and that Jay is helping him with something. As Jay leaves the room, Callum then also asks Ben if he and Phil are okay with starting a war against Danny? It's a difficult situation for them all to be in, no one wants to get anyone else hurt, but I think that they know that Ben needs to go through with this to clear his name, he really does not want to be going back to prison!

Back at the holiday venue, Chantelle is packing her children's toys in the suitcase. She finds the lucky poke chip that Kheerat gave her and she sighs deeply. Suddenly a knock is heard on her bedroom door and her mother, Karen, appears. Karen sees that Chantelle is already packed and ready to leave. She's shocked to see her daughter packed already before her children have even arrived. Chantelle asks desperately to her Mum whether Mitch has been in touch. Karen confirms to her that Mitch and Chantelle's children are on their way! Chantelle's face is in utter shock! Gray has let them go? Could it be possible that Mitch has persuaded him to let them come? Could this be the last chance she gets of making her escape with the children? There's the tiniest smiles that grows on her face as Karen tells them that they'll be able to enjoy their holiday as family and make some wonderful memories. Chantelle must feel so relieved, she decides to go and buy her children a treat for when they arrive!

On the Square, Ruby is back and giving Kush an update about Martin, everyone seems very relieved to hear that Martin is doing okay. Kat shouts from across the Square that she's managed to pay Kush's rent for his stall! Kush is over the moon and he declares his love for her, as he does so, Ruby looks slightly disappointed - Why didn't Martin say the L word back to her? Does she feel silly for telling him that she loves him? Suddenly Suki approaches her, asking her how Martin is, at first it all seems rather polite but then Suki drops the bomb to Ruby that she knows about the insurance fraud. Ruby is ready to state that it was her son who attacked Martin in the first place, of course Martin is unaware of what actually happened, and Ruby wants to keep it that way. She informs Suki that Vinny is safe, she won't be going to the police and she wont be claiming on the insurance. But what I want to know is, is this going to turn around and hit Ruby where it hurts? Is Martin going to become aware of her and Vinny's plan? Will he blame her for being attacked?!

In the restaurant, Ian is continuing his meeting with Douglas, he's trying to prove a point that he's able to cope in awkward situations. Unfortunately the main thing on the other fella's mind is Sharon. Ian then literally tells him about all her failed relationships, in an attempt to warn him off! Mentioning that she had an affair with her husband's brother, to then Dennis being murdered and then finally - i'm assuming he means, Phil - a gangster?! Or was that somebody else that i'm unaware of?! Anyway, Max finally catches up with Ian, he wants his money and he wants it now! He refuses to leave the building until Ian tells him exactly what's going on! He makes himself known by dragging out a chair and sitting with his arms folded, staring at Ian! I think he knows he can't escape Max now, it's time to tell him the truth!

Oh great! Just what Walford needs, Danny Hardcastle then decides to pull up in the Square. Is he looking for someone? Does he know that the police after him? What an Earth would bring him back to the Square? As he locks his car walks away into the distance, the camera angle moves as if someone is watching him from behind the wall. At first, I thought it was going to be Ben, only Jay appears and shows that he has a screwdriver in his inside coat pocket. Is he going to scratch his car? Or perhaps stab his tyres? I feel sad that Ben has dragged Jay into this, of course Jay would do anything to help his brother out, but surely not in this way?! Ahhh so Danny has come to meet with Ben? Or did he actually believe it was Phil he coming to see?! Danny makes a snide comment saying with Phil not being there, is that his way of apologising?! These two haven't seen each other since that job in Stratford, i'm quite surprised neither of them are putting their fists up. Ben claims that he and his Dad don't owe Danny anything! Ahhh I see, so while Ben and Danny have their little catch up - Jay is planting the stolen money in Danny's car. Danny informs Ben that the money they nicked is traceable, so the police will be all over it! Jay can be seen then trying to close the car boot frantically! At this moment when Danny is walking back to his car, his keys jingling in his hand, I am so worried for Jay as Danny gets closer and closer, Jay is pushing the boot repeatedly trying to get it shut! Luckily he manages to get it shut completely just a few seconds before Danny gets to his car. He quickly walks away and calls the police! Have they really gotten away with setting him up?! My heart was in my mouth when Jay was doing that! I hope to God nothing bad happens to Jay after this!

Back at the restaurant, Max is waiting for Ian to get his money. He appears to be on the phone to a lawyer, of course a fake lawyer! He comes up with a story about his lawyer chasing some thieves and apparently he was attacked on the head. Not realising, as Max points out - that its exactly the same of what happened to Martin! Ian can't play any more games, he knows he's been sussed out. The lies he's building is just getting worse and worse, Max just wants to the truth, he slams the kitchen units, he's had enough of Ian's lies! Ian then states that his money in a high-interest account and he can't get to it quickly because of penalties. Max can't believe what he's hearing, he's devastated that his business partner could do this to him! He gives Ian one last warning, he wants his money by the following week, otherwise Ian is going to be the one needing major surgery! Ian has once again lied his way out of another situation to by him some time to get some money for Max, but in all seriousness - how is he going to get it?!

The Taylor family are still on their holiday, Keegan announces that the children have finally arrived! But they didn't come by train, Mitch appears with luggage and asks where Chantelle, Bernadette informs him that she had gone to buy some doughnuts for the kids. A voice from the hall then echo's the word "Doughnuts!" - Gray has only gone and wormed his way in! Even though the family are all delighted to see him, we know Chantelle is going to be scared and worried and stuck yet again. Karen makes a comment "Chantelle is going to be so happy to see you!", he has a really smug grin on his face as he replies to her that he didn't want to miss out on the family fun! Ooooo Gray is just getting darker and darker, his anger at Chantelle is getting worse and worse and her fear of him is just growing and growing. It's still SO devastating that the Taylor family have no idea what's been going on behind closed doors, which I think is going to make Chantelle's death far more devastating and heart-wrenching to watch.

After his encounter with Max, Ian makes his way back to the Vic. He pulls Sharon to one side, she's asks him how the meeting went, trying to be the best supportive friend she can be. But it looks as if Ian is tired of feeling let down, because his heart has been broken, yet again, he's taking it out on his friend! He claims to her that if it wasn't for him she wouldn't have the pub! He decides to make it perfectly clear to her that the pub is his business alone, she is just his employee. Sharon knows that he is saying this out of spite, just because she doesn't feel the same way about him. He's angry, he's upset, he's embarrassed so he wants to have the upper hand! He's wanting to feel powerful! He warns her that he going to be setting her some targets, and if she doesn't meet them he will find someone else to run the pub! Sharon can barely believe her ears, she has always told Ian how grateful she has been to him over the past few months, he took her in when she had nowhere to go, he comforted her when Dennis died, of course we know it was out of guilt, but now saying he could potentially make her homeless is such a horrible curve-ball! Will she ever be able to find a way to make it up to him? Will Ian finally come to his senses and realise he's in the wrong?!

The last scene of tonight's episode, Chantelle is seen in the seaside cafe buying her children their treats. Its the first time we've seen her happy in a long time. She makes a phone call, it's Kheerat she calls, she's sounding so relieved and so happy. Its the first time we've seen her smile in a long time! She believes her children are on the way to her and she can finally find some happiness with Kheerat, she assures him that everything is fine and he has no reason to worry. She then says that she's ready, she's ready to cash in! Little does she know that Gray has been stood behind her, listening to her conversation. How is he going to know what "Cash in" means? This is going to be the thing that rages him more than anything! He believes his wife is having an affair, even though we know nothing has happened between Chantelle and Kheerat yet, it's going to be the first thing that jumps into his head! Is this what makes Gray lose his temper with Chantelle so much that it comes to the point he commits murder?!

As the episode gets closer of Chantelle's death, the more worried and scared I am of how it's going to happen. I truly believe it's going to be a devastating, harrowing episode. I do believe some viewers will find it incredibly hard to watch, the past few episodes I've been getting very nervous for Chantelle as I know what's coming, but seeing it all unfold - all the events leading up to her death and hearing the news of the aftermath of her death. It's going to be very hard viewing! I know I've said it once, but I can't praise Jessica Plummer and Toby-Alexander Smith high enough! Their performances have been phenomenal this week!

I hope you're all preparing yourself for what the next few episodes hold. It's going to be a tough few days that's for sure! I hope you've all enjoyed reading, thank you all for taking your time to read through my blog. It really does mean the world! Enjoy the rest of your week and i'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 12

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Thursday (day before the wedding)

“You don’t think he’s going to ask my permission, do you?”

Rose glanced over her shoulder towards the bedroom door, where Malcolm was slouching on the frame and running his fingers through his hair erratically. “What?” She slid another book into place on the shelf, admiring how nicely the room was coming together. It was her first night sleeping in the house as her new residence, but she’d spent most evenings that week setting everything up so that it wouldn’t feel so stark and new.

“My permission to propose,” he elaborated, stepping into the room and making a beeline for her full-length mirror. “He wouldn’t, right?”

Her eyes went from his agitated form to her still half-full box of books, and sighed. “I doubt it. Not in front of Clara, and that’s a serious conversation - not one to be had in passing when she goes off to the loo.” Abandoning her project she joined him at the mirror, smacking his hands away and turning him towards her so she could run her fingers through his hair in a sad attempt to tame the curls that had reached mad scientist level of unruly. “It’s the night before your wedding, your daughter and her boyfriend want to take you out to dinner. Don’t over-analyze it.” What she didn’t mention was that she was fairly certain Malcolm would not be given a chance to give permission – or reject it, which his daughter thought more likely.

“Well, good. I was very clear about not wanting a stag night, or any similar sort of fuss,” he said adamantly, fidgeting in place. “None of it. Really.”

Rose just hummed non-committedly, well aware that he wouldn’t be given a choice or a chance to say no, already in on the evening’s plan. “It’ll be fine, whatever it is. Your daughter will be there, I doubt there’ll be strippers involved or the like.”

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t blink. “You know something I don’t.”

“I know many things you don’t. For instance, I know you can't wrap your hand around your elbow and make your fingers meet.” He immediately straightened up, and Rose hid a smile as she pretended not to see him try it behind his back. “I also know you’re dressed like an aging rock star.”

“Oi! Aging? Bite your tongue, Rose Tyler.”

It was true, though; he was in boots and dark jeans, paired with a Beatles tee-shirt and a black sports coat. “You wear it well,” she soothed, before adopting a haughty tone. “And that’ll be Viscountess Gallifrey this time tomorrow, good sir.”

“I do so humbly apologize, ma’am, and beg your pardon,” his tone lowered, and she had to fight back a shiver at the goosebumps it gave her. “I am, of course, your devoted servant.”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to regain her composure and not think about how close they were to her bed and how far he might be persuaded to go to prove it. “As you should be. Now, your dinner date will be here any moment, are you finished primping?”

Malcolm pulled back, and she mourned the loss of his closeness; in his nerves he seemed to have gone slightly overboard on the aftershave, and it was doing delicious things to her senses. “Yeah. And, hey.”

The doorbell rang then, and with a sigh, he turned towards the door. “That’ll be them, then.”

Rose followed him, wanting to say hello to Danny and Clara and make sure Malcolm got out the door.

She was suddenly very eager to have the house to herself for a few hours.

Malcolm let Danny lead Clara into the restaurant, hanging back slightly in case he needed to do a runner. Rose was clearly in on whatever this was, and while he’d welcome a nice dinner, anything that came close to a party, let alone a traditional stag night, he wanted nothing to do with.

They were almost immediately led through the main dining area to the row of semicircular booths in the back, and to his surprise he was delighted to find several familiar faces waiting for them.

“Well, hello there,” he greeted them, less annoyed than he’d expected. “How’s it going?”

Three faces grinned back at him.

“Hi Malcolm!” Tony waved enthusiastically. “Look, I’m wearing a tie!”

“So you are, little dude. Looks good on you,” he approved, offering his fist to the boy, who enthusiastically bumped his own against it. “Pete, Graham, good of you to be here, I suppose. Rose get you all mixed up in this?”

He slid in next to Graham, as the group on the other side shuffled around so Clara could sit on Tony’s other side, smack dab in the middle of the booth.

“No more than she did you,” his chauffeur retorted with a smirk. “And you’re late – I’m starving.”

“There’s a surprise,” Malcolm laughed, relaxing into the comfortable booth and picking up his menu. “God help me if we get caught in traffic and he’s run out of food.”

“I take my meals very seriously!”

The conversation continued around him, but Malcolm took a moment to lean back and take it in. It was a somewhat ragtag group, not a typical stag night, but they were the people he was closest to in the world (excluding Rose), especially now that his uncle was gone.

Alright, maybe this isn’t as horrible as I thought it might be…

Wrapped only in her dressing gown Rose hummed as she made her way to the kitchen, stepping carefully in her fuzzy slippers on the old wooden stairs. After some good old-fashioned self-care in the bath she was feeling good, venturing out in search of some nibbles.

In the freezer she found a container of her favorite double chocolate ice cream, scooping out a generous portion and covering it with whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Catching sight of an old portrait on the wall of one of Malcolm’s ancestors, a severe older woman who seemed to be judging her, she stuck out her tongue. “I’m getting married tomorrow, he definitely won’t care if I get fat,” she told it smugly, making her first spoonful oversized out of spite. “Take that.”

She was halfway back up the stairs when the doorbell rang, and she wavered. It wasn’t Clara, who was out with Malcolm for the dinner party stag night, and it wasn’t her Mum because she was out with friends, but who else could it be?

It rang again, followed by a sharp rap, and groaning, Rose realized she’d have to answer it. The person was starting to knock again when she swung the door open to reveal-

“Missy.”

Malcolm’s ex-wife looked her up and down slowly, lip curling up. “Well, don’t you look comfortable,” she drawled. “Made yourself right at home, haven’t you?”

“Working on it.” With a casualness she didn’t possess at the moment Rose leaned against the doorframe, effectively blocking any move Missy might make to enter. “What brings you here?” she took another bite of ice cream, raising an eyebrow.

“I want to see my husband.”

Rose frowned at the haughty tone, straightening up slightly and now feeling silly in just her dressing gown. “Your ex-husband isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?” She’d never outright challenged Missy before, but she was painfully conscious that in eighteen hours, Malcolm would be her husband – at least in name. I can’t let her go around calling him hers anymore.

The other woman’s lips curled up, but not even the most generous soul would call it a smile. “You know, my husband always did like to think highly of himself. That he was better than everyone else, more altruistic. And yet here he is, fifty years old and marrying the secretary who’s half his age, just like all the other executives in a mid-life crisis. Honestly, I don’t see why he can’t just bend you over the desk and be done with it. Always has to be the hero, I suppose.”

Fighting down her anger and disgust, Rose’s mind raced for a half-decent retort. “Well, he did say he couldn’t do any worse than his first wife,” she shot back. Not great, but okay. Definitely true. “And I’m the best partner he’s ever had.” Also true, though the comment certainly hadn’t been in reference to anything remotely bed-related. Unfortunately. “If there’s no message, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Actually, there is- I didn’t receive my invitation to the charming little ceremony you’ve put together.”

“No? I’m so sorry, it must’ve gotten lost in the mail. Next Saturday, at the Cutty Sark. Ten o’clock.” Rose had never in her life been so relieved that Malcolm could be extremely paranoid when it came to his ex-wife; leaning back she fumbled blindly for the drawer in the small end table just inside the door, pulling out a single copy of a wedding invitation with just those details on it. Passing it over to Missy, she shrugged. “Good thing we had a few extras.”

The other woman took it with pursed lips, examining it critically for a moment. “Very well. I will be calling him tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you just stop by the office?” Rose offered. “I’ll book you in for an hour – how’s three?”

Still looking suspicious, Missy nodded. “Fine. I’ll be there.” And, without so much as a goodbye, she turned on her heel and swanned off into the night.

“You do that. Crazy bitch,” Rose muttered, shutting the door behind her and double checking the locks. Good mood effectively snuffed, she looked down at her bowl of half-melted ice cream and sighed.

“Now what?”

Hands shoved deep in his front pockets, Malcolm whistled as he strolled down the sidewalk. The ‘party’ had broken up once Tony started yawning, and while it was easily the earliest a stag night had ever ended in the history of them, it had felt right. It was a beautiful night as he walked the few blocks from the Underground to the townhouse, he had a nice buzz from expensive whisky, and for the first time in years, he had someone to come home to. Granted, their situation was more roommate-y than he’d prefer, but his conversation with Pete after the engagement had given him hope that with time, it would shift to a more romantic tone.

He didn’t dare dream of anything more than that, it was too far beyond his wildest fantasies.

Not paying particularly too much attention to his surroundings, he realized far too late that someone was coming towards him from the opposite direction, and he automatically tensed before recognizing the figure. I think I’d rather run into muggers, he groaned silently. “Missy.”

“Malcolm.”

One of the things that had always frustrated him was that she was never surprised to see him. No matter how unlikely it would be for them to be in the same place at the same time, she never blinked, almost as if she knew.

He wouldn’t put it past her to have implanted a tracking device in him at some point, but had never found any evidence of it. It would, after all, be perfectly in character for her – no matter what her character du jour was.

“What’re you doing in my neck of the woods?” They stopped only a few inches apart, closer than they had any right being, but that had always been their way, ever since they were children- it was as familiar as breathing, sharing a space with her.

It was why they’d ended up in bed together so many times after their divorce, nearly every time they’d seen each other up until a few years ago.

The thought of why he’d finally kicked the habit of her for good made him glance down the street towards the townhouse, concerned. “I hope you weren’t harassing Rose.”

“No, not at all. I came by to collect a new invitation to the wedding- mine was apparently lost in the mail, but she so conveniently had one. She said Tuesday, at St Margaret’s?”

“Saturday, Cutty Sark. Do hope you can make it,” he didn’t hesitate. He knew every trick in her book, and while she occasionally got the best of him, he always won in the end. Thinking about his upcoming wedding, though, he realized that he was well and truly done playing her games. “Or not. I don’t honestly care.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” Missy purred, running her fingers down his chest. “Just in case you… make a last-minute casting change.”

Sidestepping her, he just smiled tightly and started walking, more eager than ever now to get home. “Not going to happen. Goodbye.”

Ignoring her attempts behind him to get the last word, he lengthened his stride.

All he wanted was to go home.

To Rose.

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #human!au #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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dragon-temeraire · 5 years

Note

Yeah, you should totally write a fic about Derek’s magnificent and big arms

This is probably not at all what you were looking for, haha. (On AO3)

Notes: I intended this to be a silly fic, but I accidentlygot some feels in there, whoops. This is a future fic where nobody died. Stilesis drinking legally.

Though he sometimes pretends he’s annoyed by it, Derekdoesn’t mind being called. Even if it’s four in the morning, because he doesn’twant anyone drunk and stranded, surrounded by strangers.

But it seems like he’s mostly called for Stiles, specifically. Everyone else apparently makes plans andarranges for someone sober to drive them home, or maybe they just take the bus,but not Stiles. Stiles always thinks he’ll be able to handle the alcohol, andhe most assuredly cannot.

This time, it’s Lydia who makes the call. “Derek, you needto come and get him,” she says, slurring slightly but still clearly in command.“He almost fell down the stairs,” she adds, and Derek winces. Stiles’ innateclumsiness only gets worse when he’s drunk. “I think he’s trying to sleep in atire swing now.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but he’s glad it’s a warm night,because he doesn’t have to worry about Stiles freezing to death in someone’sbackyard. “Send me the address,” he says to Lydia. “And I’ll be on my way.”

When Derek pulls up to the curb, it’s apparent the party isstill in full swing. There are a few people dancing drunkenly on the lawn, andthe smell of alcohol is overwhelming, even from where Derek is standing.

He’s nearly to the front door when he spots Danny, whosmiles and waves. He still seems pretty sober.

“Hey, Derek. You here for Stiles?”

He just gives a little nod, because Danny already knows theanswer.

“Yeah, I was trying to save you the trouble of coming outhere in the middle of the night, and offered to be designated driver for him.Wasn’t feeling like drinking much, anyway. But he turned me down,” Danny says,shrugging.

Derek raises an eyebrow at that, but declines to comment.He’ll ask Stiles about that later. “Have you seen him?”

Danny tips his head back, thoughtful. “Last I saw him, hewas on the back porch steps.”

“Thanks,” Derek says.

He weaves his way through drunken crowds of people, wincinga little at the yelling and the loud, thumping music in the background. When hefinally swings the back door open, Stiles is still there on the steps, but he’snot drinking anymore.

He looks like he’s falling asleep.

“Hey,” he says, lightly touching Stiles’ shoulder. “Youready to go home?”

It takes a moment for Stiles to rouse, and he blinks lazilyat Derek for a moment before his brain catches up. “Deeeerreeeek,” he sayshappily, beaming.

Despite the number of times he’s seen it, that smile stillmakes his stomach swoop. “Hi, Stiles. Do you want me to carry you?”

Derek has discovered that, when Stiles has been drinking, heabsolutely loves to be picked up and held. He’s a surprisingly cuddly drunk.

“Mmm,” Stiles says, eagerly throwing his arm over Derek’sshoulders the moment he crouches down.

Derek lifts him easily, rolling his eyes when Stiles happilypats his chest. When they’re back inside the house, the noise has Stiles tryingto burrow his face into Derek’s neck, but he relaxes again when they get out tothe front yard.

The hand on Derek’s chest shifts over and lands on Derek’sflexed bicep, which Stiles gently squeezes before tracing his fingers along allof Derek’s arm that he can reach.

“Did I ever tell you how nice your arms are?” Stiles asks,slurring just a little. “Like, I mean, allof you is nice, but. Your arms. I just want to be in…” he trails off into undecipherablemumbling. Then he tips his head up to look at Derek, and his hand landshaphazardly on Derek’s jaw. “And you’re just so great, and. Not just handsome,” he says, obviouslytrying to be serious.

Derek has to fight hard to keep from smiling, because heknows it’ll only encourage Stiles. “We’re at the car,” he says. “I need you tostand for a minute so I can unlock the door.”

Stiles grumbles about it, but he does stand, though he leansheavily against Derek the whole time.

Derek buckles Stiles in, and has only just gotten himselfsettled behind the wheel when Stiles turns to him and says, brightly, “Have Iever told you how amazing your arms are?”

“Yes, you have,” Derek says firmly as he starts the car,hoping it will keep Stiles from waxing poetic about them. Again.

It doesn’t.

He briefly considers taking Stiles to his ownapartment—Stiles had given him a key several months ago, saying just in case, though in case of whatDerek wasn’t sure—but Stiles loves the loft and spends most of his time there,so. That’s where Derek takes them.

He scoops Stiles up into his arms again once they’vearrived, because he’s tried convincing a drunk Stiles to climb the stairsbefore, and it’s just not worth the effort. Especially when Derek doesn’tactually mind carrying him, as putupon as he may act.

He runs through the usual checklist: “Do you feel likeyou’re going to throw up? Do you need to go to the bathroom? Do you want tobrush your teeth?”

Once everything is taken care of, and once Stiles has, yetagain, convinced Derek to lend him a pair of pajama pants, there is nothingleft to do except cover Stiles with a blanket and let him sleep it off.

He leaves Stiles on the couch, and heads upstairs to get alittle sleep himself. He keeps his hearing tuned to Stiles’ heartbeat, though.Just in case.

Derek is sitting on the coffee table in front of Stiles’couch-nest when he wakes up. He waits as Stiles blinks sleepily at him, letshim get oriented to where he is, then hands him a glass of water.

Stiles takes a few sips, clearly gathering his thoughts.Usually he says something like well, thatwas an awesome night or maybe I had alittle too much, or even thanks forpicking me up. So, he’s really surprised when Stiles says, “I shouldapologize. I’m sorry I keep doing this, Derek. It’s only when I’m drunk thatI’m brave enough to do what I want, to say what I—what did I say to you last night?” he asks, abruptly derailing himself.

“The usual kind of things,” Derek says, shrugging. “Youtried to write an ode to my arms. I’m told it was very moving.”

As he’d hoped, that makes Stiles smile, but his expressiondrops back to serious rather quickly.

“That’s what I’m talking about, though,” Stiles says,rubbing irritably at his jaw. “I get drunk and dump all my feelings on you,tell you everything I’ve always wanted to say. And that’s not fair to you, whenyou’re obviously not interested.”

“Not—Stiles, I aminterested,” Derek says, feeling his heart rate pick up to match Stiles’.“Just. Not in something casual.” If he’s going to take the risks a relationshipentails—especially for him—then hewants it to matter.

Stiles looks entirely shocked, then rallies, sayingsuddenly, “Didn’t I call you beautiful last night?”

He had. He’d looked up at Derek standing under the harshlight of a streetlamp and said, you’re sobeautiful, Derek.

“And didn’t I say you were amazing, and wonderful? And more than just handsome? Derek, I’m sofar from casual it’s embarrassing,” Stiles says, almost pleading. “I understandif you want to take it slow, or if you’re not sure about me, but I just want totake you on dates and—”

Derek doesn’t find out how that sentence ends, because he’stoo busy pressing his lips to Stiles’. It’s the best answer he can give.

And really, it doesn’t matter what Stiles was going to say.Derek trusts him.

#sterek #eternalsterek #fluff #pining #future fic #my fic #Anonymous

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allimariexf · 5 years

Text

chapter 1: This Fortress (Around Your Heart)

Before he could make out the words coming from the other side of the wall, Oliver knew by the pitch of his voice that Danny Brickwell was planning to taunt him.

It wouldn’t be the first torture he’d endured today, but Oliver knew from bitter experience that it would be far worse than the beating he’d taken when he’d been jumped in the cafeteria at lunch.

“Mr. Mayor, I have a newspaper here, and I think you might be interested in the contents.” Brick’s voice took on a sing-songy tone: “‘Inside Star City’s Most Mysterious Marriage: Who is Felicity Smoak? It seems these days everyone has burning questions for the wife of the former mayor, like whether or not she knew her husband was a vigilante, and if she aided him in his lawless crusade. But we want to know more about the woman herself: who was Felicity Smoak before she was Mrs. Green Arrow? ’ You know, Mr. Mayor, you should really check out this article for yourself. It’s got pictures. Or, hmm. Is it former wife, now? I mean, you are locked up for life, and word is she hasn’t come to see you even once. But who can blame her? With an ass like that, she’s probably got ‘em lined up around the block. Fully-functional and available to serve her, you know? Especially after this spread in the Star City Gazette.”

Oliver clenched his fists and focused on his breathing. In. Out. Nothing they said made a difference. They were locked up in here just like he was. They couldn’t touch her.

“Sampson, you seen this?”

“I’m lookin’ at it now, Brick. And I like what I’m seeing. If I’da known women like that go for guys in suits, I maybe I would have gone to business school after all.”

Brickwell laughed harshly. “But that’s exactly what everybody’s wanting to know, my friend. Did she fall for Oliver Queen, or did she fall for the Green Arrow?” He paused. “We got the inside scoop sitting right here. Could call the Gazette and settle it for them, maybe get quoted in the paper. Which was it, Mr. Mayor?”

He waited briefly but of course Oliver remained silent, breathing, trying to tune out their voices. In. Out.

Unconcerned, Brickwell continued his musing. “For all we know, she has a thing for bad boys. Maybe working with the vigilante brought out her wild side. It says in here she started as a nobody at Mr. Queen’s company, and our boy Oliver here picked her out and made her his assistant.” He paused, letting the word accrue layers of meaning. “I gotta give it to you, Mr. Mayor. I may not like you, but I can appreciate that you’ve got a real eye for...talent. They have a picture here of your girl from way back, mousy as anything and dressed like my gran. Most guys wouldn’t look at her twice. But you scooped her right up, didn’t you? Polished her up. Taught her how to dress, teased out her assets.”

Fists clenched. Breathing in. Breathing out.

“Didn’t even take a year, judging by the date on this other photo. You really made her shine. Still, I gotta say. She’s attractive and all, I'd definitely fuck her, but she’s not hot enough to marry, I wouldn’t think. Not wife material based on looks alone. And we all know you like yourself a tall, leggy brunette, Mr. Mayor. It’s enough to make me wonder: what other kind of talents does she have?”

Oliver felt himself go cold as the air seemed to leave his body. Nothing mattered. Nothing they said mattered. They were thugs.

read the rest on Ao3...! (or under the cut, but be warned: rating M, tw: mild psychological torture through sexual objectification of women)

Brick was still speaking. “What does she have to offer that would make her worth keeping around? I’m looking here at this picture, and I think I have a guess. Just look at those lips. I bet that mouth is a whole other level of talent, am I right? Soft, luscious pink lips. I bet she can swallow a whole dick with that mouth. Makes me hard just thinking about it. Thinking about your wife, Mr. Mayor, with her soft lips wrapped around my dick. Sounds like a good way to spend the evening. Sampson, don’t you agree?”

“Oh yeah, Brick. They’ve been putting out pictures of Felicity Smoak every day for months, and I have gotten a lot of mileage out of those lips and that ass. I wonder what it’s going to be tonight? I think last night I had her on her knees in front of me, looking up at me with those glasses on. Hey, Green Arrow, do you prefer her with the glasses on or without them? Me, I think I prefer her with them. That naughty teacher look, you know? Makes it extra sweet when she’s on her knees.”

Oliver’s fingernails were digging into his palms, and he had abandoned efforts to calm his erratic breathing. He tried to think about the physical pain from being jumped by four prisoners earlier that day. The feeling of having his windpipe crushed, the shock of a knee to the kidney. Anything to block out their words.

Brick was still speaking. “I know what you mean. It’s those goody-goody ones with the glasses that are always really kinky in the sack. Care to weigh in, Mr. Mayor? Your thoughts would be really helpful here. I’m assuming you know all about Felicity Smoak’s kinks.”

No. No. No. No.

“I bet you think about them all the time. Wrapping your hand around your dick as you imagine yourself buried in that ass, just like the rest of us. Too bad you’re not gonna fuck her any sooner than the rest of us, either. It must be torture, right? Knowing you had it so good. You were the mayor, everyone looked up to you, everyone wanted to be you, but best of all, you could fuck that tight ass any time you wanted, but what did you do instead? Like a fool, you dressed up in tights and went out like Robin Hood. Fucked your life right up, didn’t you? And now all you got for company is me and Sampson, and no one to suck your dick, except maybe you could ride with Bubbles if you ask real nice. Maybe he’ll even let you fuck him in the ass, though I doubt anything could compare to the tight, round caboose on your girl.”

Oliver was silent. His palms were bleeding, his breathing was shallow, and as much as he could withstand torture, he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his face.

* * * * * * * * *

Felicity pushed through the front door of the safe-house, shaking rainwater off her umbrella. “William?” She flinched at the slightly panicked tone of voice that had somehow become habitual. “You home?” She turned around and began locking the complicated series of bolts on the front door.

“Yeah, I’m in here, Felicity!”

At the sound of his voice, something inside her relaxed. She stepped further into the little house, setting a bag of fast food on the counter and picking up her tablet to activate the security measures she’d installed around the perimeter of the property. “Yasuko’s Teriyaki!”

“Coming!”

She pulled several containers out the paper bag before starting up her system of computers that took up most of the kitchen table. William appeared at her shoulder and she whirled on the spot and grabbed him in a tight hug.

“Okay, okay.” But he didn’t really mind, and Felicity knew it.

“How was school? Did Mrs. Marshall give a pop quiz?” She turned back to her computers.

“Yup.”

“Ugh.” She was listening, but she was also concentrating on defining parameters on her newest search.

“Felicity?

“Hummm?”

“You want me to maybe get some plates and silverware, set the table?”

Something in his hesitant tone made her look up. “Oh William, it’s just us. There’s no need for -” she broke off when his face fell. She felt like she’d been punched in the stomach “Right. I mean, yeah, it’s always just us, but that doesn’t mean we have to live like animals.” She pressed out a laugh so he would hear her words as a casual joke, and not as a desperate attempt to cover up her feelings of inadequacy. She was just not the parent he deserved. Oliver turned every meal into a gourmet experience, while here she was on a first-name basis with every fast-food joint within a ten-mile radius. But Oliver was not here, because Oliver had made a decision and the rest of them had to live with it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed Oliver out of her mind so she could be present for her step-son. “Well hey, at least it’s not leftover diner food, right?”

William smiled back as he slid a plate in front of her. “I got an A-.”

Felicity scrunched her nose at him. Then caught herself and unscrunched it with widened eyes. “An A- is great! Fantastic! Especially in World History, I mean yuck. Not my favorite subject.”

William laughed, letting her off the hook. “No, it was stupid. It should have been an A. There was this dumb trick question.”

“Yeah, well I thought - I mean, you studied your butt off on that chapter, that’s all I’m saying.” She frowned again. Obviously William was brilliant, and she got a little defensive when teachers failed to recognize it.

“So, how was work?”

“Work…. That is not work. It is a soul-crushing exercise in misery that doesn’t even offer health and dental.” She smiled at the remembered words, despite herself. They made her think of Oliver’s nervous, happy smile, and she felt something twist inside her. William’s sustained silence jerked her out of the memory. He was looking at her in bewilderment and a little concern. “Haha, sorry! Inside...joke. Work was fine. Except for the part where I have to actually talk to people.” Felicity had found that William was too emotionally intuitive for her to convincingly lie to him, which was a good thing, really, because the prospect of putting on a brave face in the wake of their situation was really more than she could handle. So she let him in, mostly, though she tried her hardest to let humor outweigh bitterness whenever possible. And they had quickly become much closer because of her willingness to be honest with him.

“Too bad you can’t make a program to take their orders for them.”

Felicity considered. “Well, I probably could. But that wouldn’t really eliminate the need to talk to them, unless I also programmed, like, a robot to then bring them their orders. Which would be kinda cool, except then I wouldn’t really have a job, so I’d just have to find another job, and I’d probably have to talk to people there.” She gave him a dissatisfied look. “I don’t think there’s a way I can program my way out of it.”

William shot her an affectionate look that went straight to her heart, and not just because it reminded her so much of Oliver. “I think you could figure something out, if you really needed to.”

Felicity looked down at her plate to hide the sudden wetness in her eyes. She reached out and rumpled his hair. “Eat your chicken, kiddo.”

* * * * * * * * *

Hours after William had gone to bed, Felicity was deeply engrossed in her second job. Her real work: searching for Ricardo Diaz, and doing whatever she could to stop his work in Star City.

Because despite the sacrifice Oliver had made, Ricardo Diaz was still alive and free and very much operating within Star City. And Star City was suffering. It wasn’t just a dip in the local economy, or an uptick crime, or a pervasive feeling of low morale, though those were all real and present problems. Nor was it only the quasi-martial law that had become necessary in order to fill the power vacuum left behind once Diaz’s accomplices had been arrested, though the temporary municipal government did inspire considerable paranoia. It wasn’t even the fact that those who could afford to leave the city were doing so in droves. It was that people were disappearing, from all walks of life. And no one, not even the FBI, could seem to stop it. Or even explain it.

But it wasn’t only the FBI who was looking into crime around the city. A group calling themselves “The Outlaws” had arisen in the wake of Oliver’s arrest, and, as their name suggested, they were seeking justice outside of the law.

It turned out that, as much as the people of Star City hated to be made to look like fools by having elected a vigilante as mayor, they hated surrendering their city to criminals even more. So while public opinion of Oliver remained starkly divided, he had some extreme admirers among his fans, and The Outlaws practically revered him. It really wasn’t healthy, but Felicity figured she was hardly in a position to judge anyone else’s obsession with Oliver Queen.

So she had been helping them. Quietly, in small ways. Hacking into their system, improving their tools, refining their searches. Sometimes helping them along by pointing them in the right direction, but more often than not by simply doing their work for them, better, faster. She had personally prevented two abductions, at least one attempted assassination, and countless instances of cyber crime. And better, she was helping them establish connections between the crimes. By analyzing the data they’d been compiling over the past 5 months, she already had a good idea of which crimes were likely to be connected to Diaz, and which were random.

She was also learning about some disturbing new tricks Diaz seemed to have picked up in the past few months. But she hadn’t managed to locate him. Not yet.

The harsh vibration of her phone against the kitchen table shook Felicity out of her zone. She looked at the display and shut off the alarm she had set for 2:30 AM. Time for bed.

* * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Felicity was cleaning up the kitchen after bringing William to school. She had work at noon, but before then she had a few hours to herself.

Normally she tried to keep her brain occupied on immediate things: being present for William, preventing crime in Star City, avoiding awkward moments at the diner, like spilling coffee on patrons or accidentally insulting them in some way. The less time she gave herself to think, the less time she spent in dark spirals of anger, panic, and sorrow.

But today, she gave in to the ever-present desire to just think about him. To remember the sound of his voice, the way he said her name. To remember the expression in his eyes when he looked at her. That look that was reserved for her alone, that was never absent regardless of whether he was happy, anxious, ecstatic, or hurt. It pained her, physically, to think about him, because every thought and memory was burdened with her anger and disappointment in him, but she did it gladly because more than anything she just she missed him. It was so rare that she allowed herself to really think about him, imagine him, that she even missed the idea of him. So she closed her eyes and remembered his lips: against her cheek, her forehead, her neck, under her jaw. Exhaling against her lips.

It was as she stood there lost in remembered kisses that several things happened at once: her tablet lit up next to her on the kitchen counter, and an alarm sounded from several speakers positioned around the house. She instantly knew her computers were contacting 911 with a pre-recorded distress call even as she heard the sound of shattering glass.

In the months since going underground, Felicity hadn’t completely reverted to her pre-Oliver hacktivist days. For one thing, her hair was pink, not black. For another, she had taken up self-defense training in earnest, at John’s insistence. During their Team Arrow days, he had always offered to train her, but she had never been more than a half-hearted student, mainly because she had more important things to concentrate on, and she never had any doubt that John and Oliver would both willingly and capably look after her in those rare instances when she was faced with a significant physical threat. But when she found herself the sole parent of an innocent, trusting, amazing kid like William, she realized she needed to be as prepared as possible on all fronts. And that meant being able to defend herself, and him, bodily if necessary.

So when the large, terrifying-looking dude came charging at her with a gun, Felicity was fairly certain from his approach that he didn’t want to kill her, just grab her and possibly knock her out. She used that to her advantage, moving toward him instead of away, grabbing the first thing that came to hand: her morning’s leftover coffee. In his surprise, she managed to knock the gun out of his hand.

Felicity found herself babbling as a way to fight through her panic. “I’ll have you know,” she dodged a punch and tried to squeeze past him out of the confines of the kitchen, “that I’ve already called 911 and if I don’t punch in a verification code -” the man grabbed her by the hair and clawed viciously at her head, trying to twist her into his grip. Screaming, she jabbed him with an elbow and stomped his instep, reaching for a heavy frying pan. “My friends in high places will be getting a prerecorded message that contains a lot of detailed information -” she had the frying pan, but he punched her right in the face, and the shock left her wide open. He immediately tackled her to the ground. She hit the floor hard, narrowly avoiding getting the wind knocked out of her. She kicked backwards with her feet and attempted to scramble away. “Not to mention the perimeter alarms that are set to go off any second now!” The large man was silent except for his heavy breathing and the occasional grunt, and Felicity felt the panic taking over as he grabbed her around the ankles and began to haul her back. She fought to crawl forward, not caring that she was scraping through shattered glass, not considering the futility of gaining a few feet of distance from him when he obviously outweighed her by 100 pounds or more. Her throat was raw but she kept shouting, and kicking, and somehow her feet managed to land a blow. In the sudden absence of restraint, instinct took over. She spun around, legs and thighs grinding through shards of glass, and hit him over the head with her frying pan. And then she hit him again to be sure.

The blood was pounding loudly in her ears, and distantly she heard her perimeter alarms blaring. The police would be here in less than a minute, probably, and she suddenly knew she didn’t want to be here when they arrived.

Within seconds of reaching her decision, she had initiated a data wipe protocol on her non-portable hardware, grabbed her and William’s emergency bags including all her portable tech, and was in her car on the way to pick up William. The little blue bungalow she drove away from contained not a single trace of data that would lead back to their real identities.

#arrow fic #olicity fic #fic exerpt #arrow season 7 fic #my fic #this fortress around your heart

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dwaynepride · 6 years

Text

Three Little Words

Summary: Frank Reagan can’t seem to tell you how he’s really feeling. It’s gonna take something big for him to finally say it out loud.

Words: 1,700

Warnings: None

Your fingers were cold, even while grasped in Frank's larger hand. He held it tight, hoping to try and warm them up. But it didn't quite seem to work. It's been cold all day; snow mountaining the side of the road. Breath billowing out like clouds every time you exhaled.

And there was a lot of clouds in front of your face. Frank idly listened as you talked about your day. His eyes flickered upward, noting that this was your street. Had the walk really been that short? Frank wish it had been longer.

Turning the corner, the Commissioner noticed his two shadows following a little way’s back. An unfortunate side effect of his job. Frank would have wanted to walk you home himself. He was old-fashioned, like that.

Instead, he gripped your hand tighter, bringing your attention back up to him. “I just can't believe how someone can be so stupid.” You finished with a huff.

It made him chuckle, nodding. “Unfortunately, there are a lot of stupid people in the world. The trick is learning how to deal with them.”

There was a light rush when you laughed. “I'm sure you know that more than anybody. Having problems with the Mayor again?”

Your question stalled Frank. “How'd you know?” He asked, sending over a incredulous look.

“Because I know you. And you've been tense tonight. More quiet than you usually are.” You nudged him lightly, smirking. “That, and Danny was going off about it earlier.”

Frank huffed, trying to act miffed. But really, it came as no surprise to learn you can so easily gauge his mood. And he being able to gauge yours.

Your home came up on the left. Frank walked you up the steps, thankful his keepers had the sense to stay a little out of sight. It almost seemed like a normal date.

After unlocking the door, you turned to him with a smile. “I had a good time, even if you weren't in the best mood.”

Frank chuckled a bit, but nodded. “Next time, I'll be sure to pick you up in a better mood.” He promised. And there was a moment where neither of you did anything. Your door was cracked open, like you were ready to head inside, but was waiting for something.

And Frank was no fool. He knew fairly well what it was you were waiting for. That particular step in the relationship was one he wasn't sure if he was willing to take yet. Three words; simple, by themselves. But powerful and a little overwhelming, in this situation.

You watched him, eyes wide and bright and seriously beautiful. It seemed like a good time. You were alone and the date had been fairly romantic. The words were right on the tip of his tongue; you could tell they were.

But they didn't come out. Frank bent down, confident in kissing you, at least. It was brief; you both conscious that he probably needed to leave soon. Nevertheless, it was a good kiss. Every kiss was a good kiss with Frank Reagan.

He straightened up, lips slightly quirked in a smile. “Goodnight.” He said softly, voice soft and full of fondness.

You heard the affection in his voice. And while you had no doubts that Frank cared for you very much, there was still the matter of him saying it. His smile faded when you nodded slightly, eyes averting away. “Goodnight, Frank.” You replied lightly, turning and opening the door the rest of the way.

He was about to let you go for the night. Go home and call you in the morning. Maybe schedule lunch. That was a comfortable plan. And the fact that he almost deviated from the plan was shocking.

Because those words nearly left his mouth. Almost wisped into the cold night air along with his breath.

He didn't. You closed the door, and Frank climbed down the stairs, having been greeted with his chaperones and driven home.

“Crime rates have been steadily rising in certain neighborhoods throughout the city. We don't exactly know why, but we're planning on having more patrols in these sectors-”

There was a strange feeling, sitting there like a rock at the bottom of Frank's stomach. Been there since this morning, in fact. As if he should be waiting for something bad to happen. A sixth sense for shit going downhill.

Though, so far, the day was normal. Frustratingly normal. Frank fought to keep his focus on the meeting, knowing it was important. And yet, he couldn't quite shake his intuition. Too many years on the job has given him that curse.

“Commissioner Reagan, thoughts?”

Frank's eyes refocused, noting that everybody in the room was watching him. Waiting on his opinion. He straightened up lightly, clearing his throat, about to wing a response, before there was a frantic knock on the door.

Baker came through, and Frank didn't even finish his silent prayer of gratitude for the interruption. Because his aide was wearing a troubled look. “What is it?” Frank asked gruffly.

Her eyes briefly moved about the room before coming closer. “There's been a shoot-out on Twelfth. A few officers involved, and…”

She trailed off, eyes falling away. Frank knew her well enough, though, and realized with a cold rush down his spine that maybe his intuition was right. “And?” He prompted.

Baker looked back, expression more stern. “Detective Y/N was shot, sir. A bus is taking them to the hospital now.”

Frank barely hesitated for a second, maybe two before he was standing up. “We’ll continue this later.” The Commissioner said over his shoulder as he was walking past Baker. Nobody argued; not that they could. Because Frank Reagan was already making plans to have his driving detail take him to the hospital. Not caring about the speed limit. Temporarily pushing his responsibilities to the back burner.

On the way there, he was calling Danny. It was difficult, keeping his voice leveled, acting as if his stomach wasn’t in knots. And over the years, Frank has nearly perfected it. But even if he sounded remotely apathetic, Danny knew better.

That’s why his detective of a son was wearing a guilty expression when Frank finally got there, nearly jogging but somehow keeping his composure. “I’m sorry, Dad. I shoulda done a better job of having their back...”

“This isn’t on you.” He replied, voice low and tight. Frank’s eyes flickered about, and Danny could see the troubled look on his father’s face. A look he’s barely ever seen in his life. A look he really didn’t like.

Danny’s head motioned to the left, towards the hall. “Room’s that way. 310. I can take you-”

“No, that’s alright.” Frank replied, probably a little too quickly. That fact made his sigh, head dipping, eyes screwed shut. This isn’t how he should be acting. This wasn’t at all the professional, impartial Police Commissioner he should be. One of his detectives was just shot, and yet, Frank couldn’t quite move past the fact that it was you.

He didn’t even need to say anything, though. Danny’s hand made its way to his shoulder, giving a pat while simultaneously moving him towards the room. “Go. I’ll deal with any vultures that want the scoop on this.”

A grateful glance to his son was all that was needed, maybe a talk later on, before Frank was making his way to your room. 310. 310. He repeated the number in his head before seeing it on the wall. Frank’s hand came out, gripping the handle, hesitating slightly before finally opening it.

He was slow. Quiet. Not sure if you were sleeping or not. And you were, he discovered. Frank closed the door just as quietly before making his way to your bedside.

The sound of a heart monitor has never sounded so good as it did right now. You were pale and looking rough. If not for the heart monitor giving Frank audible evidence that you were okay, he would have thought differently.

So it was nothing short of a miracle to be sitting next to your bed, reaching out to hold your hand, and watching your chest rise and fall with soft breaths. Frank just watched for a little while. He wasn’t sure how long. Long enough for his hand to warm up the frozen fingers he held just a few minutes ago.

“I, uh- I wish you were awake.” He said out loud, frowning lightly at the baritone of his voice in the silent room. Frank felt a little foolish, talking to an unconscious person. But this was something he needed to get out.

So he cleared his throat, shuffled in his chair, and watched your face. “Because I have something really important to say. Something I should’ve said last night. Hell, farther back than that. And I wanted to, but….couldn’t.”

What difference was this going to make, if you couldn’t hear him?

“But I can now. And I want to.”

He’d just have to say it again later, when you were awake.

“And I mean it. I really, really mean it.”

Frank found that he really didn’t mind having to repeat himself.

“I love you.”

There. He said it. The words were out there. They fell on unconscious ears, but they were out there. And for some reason, it made Frank feel a little better. Not all the way. There was still a bit of guilt and worry in his gut. But knowing he could actually say it lifted a lot of the weight from his shoulders.

He loved you. Loved you so much. Loved you enough to stop a meeting and storm into a hospital and potentially out a relationship that would be seriously frowned upon.

You finally started to stir. Weakly gripping a large hand that was wrapped around yours. And Frank’s face was the first thing you saw; blurry and distorted, but there. Despite the pain and confusion, the world immediately felt a little less scary. “Frank.” You mumbled hoarsely. “You’re here.”

“Of course, I am.” He replied, leaning his elbows on his knees, trying to get closer without getting in the way. “I’m here because I love you.”

#blue bloods reader insert #blue bloods x reader #frank reagan x reader #blue bloods imagine

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carmillatranscripts · 6 years

Text

The Carmilla Movie

Air date: October 25, 2017

Length: 1:34:27

We open with static, which disappears to be replaced by Laura against a plain white background.

Laura: Okay! Don’t know how many of you are new, and how many of you have been with us from the start, but I am Laura Hollis. Yes, the Laura Hollis, who recently got famous, or “internet famous”, because my university pals and I vlogged ourselves saving the world.

Brief footage from 3x33, of Dean!Perry opening the Gates of Hell

Laura: See, back in my freshman year, we discovered that our Austrian university was actually being run by an evil dean and her vampire cult. Naturally. They’d been sacrificing girls to this monstrous creature under the campus, and I was next. Really should’ve gone to that safety school. Anyway, the Dean sent ... Carmilla,

Footage from 1x2

Carmilla: I’m your new roommate, sweetheart.

Back to Laura

Laura: A 300-year-old vampire with a checkered past and centuries worth of victims to kidnap me.

We see Laura and Carmilla kissing from season 3

Laura: There was just one small snag with that plan. (back to Laura) Carm and I fell in love. Carm turned her back on the evil dean, and with a little help from our friends: LaF, Perry, Kirsch, Mel, and Danny, we saved the school! And the world. For stopping the apocalypse, Carm earned herself a magical human life. A vampire no more.

Footage of Laura discovering Carmilla’s heartbeat at the end of 3x36

Laura: A chance to start again, and leave the crimes of her past behind. And for us to figure out ... whatever happens next.

New scene. Exterior: An old manor, on a stormy day.

We see Laura, waking up inside the manor, dressed in 19th century clothes, lying on a couch. She gets up.

Laura: Okay ... weird. (looks at her clothing) Old-timey and weird.

Laura notices a mirror and looks into it. She does not see her own reflection, instead, she sees another woman, dressed as she is, copying her moves. A door creaks open, and Laura turns towards it

Laura: Hello? Ghost-lady?

Suddenly, a woman dressed all in black, with a veil over her face, appears behind Laura, and taps her shoulder. Laura runs in fear out the room and down some stairs, looking behind her. At the foot of the stairs, she runs into the same mysterious woman. The woman lifts her veil, reveiling herself to be Carmilla.

Carmilla: You’re wearing my broach.

Laura: Carm!

Carmilla: Did I scare you, my pet?

Laura: You think? Sneaking around, dressed like Lizzie Borden? Wait, why are you dressed like Lizzie Borden?

Carmilla: You mustn’t be afraid

Laura: Why would I be afraid?

Carmilla: We shall die, as lovers may ... (Carmilla kisses Laura) Die together, so that we may live together.

Carmilla’s fangs appear, and she bites Laura, drinking from her, Laura looking terrified

Suddenly the scene changes, and we see Laura waking up from a nightmare, her head on Carmilla’s lap.

Carmilla: Welcome back, creampuff.

Laura (moving up from Carmilla’s lap to lay her head on Carmilla’s hsoulder, we hear screams and chainsaw sounds from a TV offscreen) I think your horror movies are giving me nightmares

Carmilla: Oh, well, life’s rough like that sometimes.

The camera zooms out, giving us a broader view of the living room

Carmilla: Come on! How long does it take to kill one limping teenager? Is this guy on a coffee break? (to Laura) So, what happened? Did you get scooped up by that talking goat again?

Laura: No, I dreamed you were a vampire. (Sitting up) It was very ... blast-from-your-gothic-horror-past. There was this old house, and then you ... well, you were actually kinda scary

Carmilla (concerned): Did I hurt you?

Laura: In a dream. Come on, it was probably a ... subconscious fascination with Victorian murders. Or, uh ... corests.

Carmilla: Mmm! Well, no need to go digging around in the past. We have it much better now.

Laura: No arguments here. (looks at TV) So long, hammer horror! (to Carmilla) Hello, rom-com

They start to kiss, when suddenly a loud scream and chainsaw sounds come from the TV. Carmilla turns off the TV, and they begin kissing, and we fade out to the opening credits

New scene: Another dream sequence, Laura’s running in fear through the same mansion as before. She opens a door and sees Carmilla being placed in the coffin of blood, she closes it and keeps running, opening another door where we see Carmilla covered in blood

Laura wakes up, breathing hard. She’s in bed next to Carm. She kisses Carm’s forehead and gets up. We see her making coffee and pouring it into her Tardis mug. She snaps her fingers to wake herself up and sits down in front of her laptop.

Laura (with exaggerated enunciation): How now, brown cow? How now, brown cow?

She turns on the laptop, and we see her from the POV of her laptop, with a “Laura Hollis” logo in the lower left corner.

Laura: Happy anniversary, faithful viewers! I know! Iknowiknowiknow I’m behind in my posts, but, I would never miss this! Because 5 years ago, today, (copy of the Voice of Silas on screen with headlines “Students Save Austria From Apocalypse” and “Girls Sacrificed to Giant Anglerfish!”) a ragtag bunch of undergraduates stopped the dean of their evil university from unleashing Hell on Earth! Or, mostly stopped. You can’t really blame us for Antarctica. And where are they now, you might ask? Well, let’s check in with a very special 5-year retrospective.

Laura looks off to the side with a dramatic gesture. And then her face turns neutral

Laura (mumbling): And then we will cut to ...

Super cheesy graphics with phrases like “tiny, gay and mighty” and “Hollis Five Year Retrospective”

Back to Laura narrating

Laura: First up is LaFontaine and Perry who, as you’ll recall, transferred to Occult Studies at Berkley and then started LaFerry Industries, where they’ve been revolutionizing life for the supernatural with products such as their Hemo-Soy vegan vampire sumplements ever since. They’ve got this huge meeting with a megacoporation that wants to buy their start-up. I’m so proud! Speaking of super-successful people, you guys remember Danny? My Lit TA, turned stalwart ally, turned repentant vampire? Has turned into ... a vampire rights advocate. And, what retrospective would be complete without a look at how Mel and Kirsch and I leveraged our coverage of the almost-apocalypse into a career in local news? And, if you’re morbidly curious, here are some clilps!

Clip 1, Laura in front of a flower shop, with “Luane Horlis Reporting Live” at the bottom fo the screen

Laura: Today, we explore the fast-paced world of floral arrangements.

Clip 2, Laura on another street, in front of a bakery, with the name “Lauren Horley”

Laura: Cranberry bannock

Clip 3, another street, name displayed as “Laura “The Puff” Hollis”

Laura: Ceramic cephalopod

Back to Laura’s narration

Laura: So, yeah. Not quite achieved Lois Lane-dom. But never fear!

Laura runs off screen, and comes back with a big board with various goals on it

Laura: It is all part of my 5-year plan!

Some of the goals are marked with stars, and others with X’s. Some are sensible goals like “Meet Christiane Amanpour” or “200 hours volunteering in the library”, while others are nerdy, like “Buffy marathon with Carmilla”. Laura looks wistfully at he board for a moment and then pulls herself away

Laura: Yeah, um, after Carm and I took our glorious gap year, it was time to start real life. We moved town to TO, I finished my degree, stuck my foot in the door, now I’m just waiting for my big break! Busting open some huge Woodward-and-Bernstein-style scandal and being moved up to the city desk. Admittedly, I have been waiting a while for that one. But, uh, you know ,that’s what you do in life. You pay your dues. Unless you’re a former vampire with 300 years of sunshine and culinary history to catch up on. So, what has our Carm been up to as a living, breathing, human?

[Scene of Carmilla walking around in broad daylight]

Laura: She’s definitely taking advantage of ye old vampire trust fund.

[Carmilla walking out of a bakery with a pastry]

Laura: Bakery-based gluttony, check.

[Carmilla lying out in a bikini on a patio in the sun]

Laura: Sun-tanning sloth, check.

[Laura in front of a computer, eating a strawberry, Carmilla comes by and takes a bit of the strawberry with a seductive look at Laura]

Laura: I-have-a-pulse-now lust ... well ... actually I can’t complain about that last one [Laura and Carmilla exit scene]

Back to Laura narrating

Laura: Yeah. Unless you count starring in my spooky dreams, it’s been a bit more pastry than purpose lately. But! Today’s retrospective is all about perspective. We are going to get our heroine back on track. But, where to start such a conversation? Where else? [Laura pulls a cake into camera view] With desert!

Carmilla walks in

Carmilla: Mmm ... have you been baking?

Laura: Happy rebirthday! [kisses carmilla several times] It’s, um ... like a ... like a birthday, but for your rebirth. Because, five years ago, you got a life. Not like 90s ‘get a life’, but you know, um, literally.

Carmilla: Hmm, how very Lewis Carol.

[Carmilla turns the webacm off and closes the laptop]

Laura: So ... speaking of five years, I was thinking that we could talk about five years in the other direction. [Carmilla looks faintly exasperated] Cause you’ve been through a lot. Not just Silas, but death. And the French Revolution. So, it’s completely understandable that you’re feeling a little lost

Carmilla: Lost?

Laura: Okay, maybe not lost, but maybe a little ... aimless?

Carmilla: Laura, are you staging an intervention because you think I’m wasting my life?

Laura: No! [Carmilla gives her a look like “really?”] Maybe. It’s just ... you aren’t immortal anymore. And I know that you want to make the most of our lives together, but -

Carmilla: Is there something wrong with those lives being fun?

Laura: No! But I think it’s possible to have fun and ...

Carmilla: And did I go to that supernatural therapist?

Laura: One time. You siad you couldn’t take advice from someone born after the moon landing.

Carmilla: Mm-hmm, and do I pester you because you’d rather spend your days in a news cubicle instead of on a beach in the South of France?

Laura: No, you don’t. It’s just ...

Carmilla: It’s just, you like making plans. And I love that about you. But, I don’t know, it’s my rebirthday, so ... I want to spend it enjoying our lives. Preferably [wipes a bit of chocolate icing on Laura’s lip] somewhere with a patio and an extensive wine selection? [they kiss] And chocolates

They wander off-screen together, tightly embracing, the camera zooms in on the cake; Carmilla runs back on camera to blow out the candles, and then they both leave the scene again.

Several city scenes, a sunset, night time, then back to their home. Carmilla’s in bed already, and Laura puts some moisturizer on her hands. They snuggle together on the bed. Laura falls asleep, and it’s another dream sequence. She’s in bed, and she sees Carmilla crouched at the foot of the bed. In the background is a painting of Carmilla.

Laura: Carm?

Carmilla: Shhh. You’re dreaming.

Laura turns on a lamp, and Carmilla winces, covering her eyes

Laura: Oh. Right.

Carmilla crawls onto the bed towards Laura, in a scene shot to resemble a famous illustration from the original publication of Carmilla

Carmilla: You are mine. You shall be mine. You and I are one, forever.

Laura: Something tells me I’m gonna like this dream.

Carmilla strokes Laura’s face, and then her fangs appear, and she bites Laura. Laura’s eyes snap wide open. She’s back in the real world now, and the real Carmilla is biting her neck.

Laura: Carm! What are you doing?! [pushes Carmilla off her, Carmilla hisses, her fangs exposed] Carm! Hey! Hey! It’s me! It’s me! [snaps her fingers]

Carmilla comes to, and looks horrified

Carmilla: Laura, your neck! Oh, God! [she moves towards Laura, and Laura backs up, still afraid; Carmilla pulls back, looking completely horrified]

Laura: What is going on?

New scene: Back in the living room. Carmilla’s sitting in a chair with some kind of electrodes on her forhead. LaF and Perry are there. LaF is holding some kind of electronic tablet, while Perry has some notes in front of her. Laura is standing watching, with bandaids on Carmilla’s bite mark

Perry: Have you been in close proximity to any vampires or vampire by-products in the past two or three months?

Carmilla: Oh, you mean when a Sumerian goddess turned me again last week? Must’ve slipped my mind.

Perry: I see that sarcasm hasn’t suffered.

Laura: Thanks for taking some time out of your meeting prep to help us.

LaF: For you guys? Anything.

Perry: Of course! We’re probably over-prepared.

LaF: Something’s definitely off with Carm.

LaF’s scanning her with their robot eye, we see various graphs and the like, a light glowing above Carmilla’s chest, and the words “lifeforce: flickering”, among others

Laura: For those of us without a fancy cyborg eye?

LaF: Right. Um, this is Carm [LaF turns their pad around for Laura and Perry to see; it shows an abstract form of a female body, with a glow in the chest] And she’s, well, dead, except ...

Perry: Except, the resurrection spell is still running inside her, making her a living human

LaF: It makes her heart beat, hair grow, and all the other things a regular human body does

Laura: Yeah, like a magic battery

Carmilla: I thought we agreed we wouldn’t call it that.

LaF: My vote’s still with life-force

Carmilla: No, that’s even worse!

Perry: Oh! What about her, um, what about your spark?

LaF: Hmm, it does work pretty much like an ignition

Perry: Spark it is! Spark, spark, spark!

Carmilla: I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.

LaF: Uh ... Carmilla’s spark is ... going out.

Laura: What’s wrong with it?

LaF: It’s producing a sort of electrical discharge that’s making it flicker, and, since it’s what’s keeping her human, when it flickers, she ...

Laura: Vamps out.

Laura sighs and sits down

Carmilla: Okay, so ... how do we get my .... spark to stop flickering?

LaF: We’ll have to run some more tests.

Laura: And in the meantime, Carm just keeps randomly vamping out? What are we supposed to do about that?

Perry pulls out a bunch of garlic. Carmilla sighs.

Montage of scenes, mimicking the ones earlier where Laura was talking about Carmilla’s “aimlessness”, but twisted. First we see Carmilla lying out on the patio, but instead of enjoying the sun, she’s trying to cover up, with a bottle of hemo-soy beside her, then we see her biting a strawberry that Laura was eating, but accidentally biting her hand, then we see her drinking a squirrel’s blood at the same place we saw her getting a pastry before

Then we see their bedroom again. Cloves of garlic in the foreground. Carmilla’s lying on the bed, looking sad.

Laura (applying moisturizer): [Unclear dialogue, something about Mel?] ... Kirsch, of course, is jazzed, like ‘Oh, there’ll be blueberry pie, right? I’m into the bluebs”, and then to top it all off, I get to the fridge, and it’s just ... Carm? You okay?

Carmilla: Sure. Just grappling with an aversion to daylight and cravings for blood.

Laura: Hey, LaF is going to figure something out.

Carmilla: I know. It’s just ... this was supposed to be done. You know? The bloodlust, the self-loathing. The sleeping tied to a chair in my own bedroom.

Laura: That one might be overkill. You’ve never had a problem controlling yourself before. [Carmilla nods] Unless you count dream-Carm chasing me through discount Transylvania all “you are mine, you shall be mine”

Carmilla: Wait ... what did you just say?

Laura: “You are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one forever”

Carmilla gets up and runs into the living room, searching through the bookshelves

Laura: Carm, what is going on? It was just some silly Dracu-poetry my brain coughed up for atmosphere [Carmilla opens up a chest] What are you looking for? [Carmilla takes out a book from the chest, looking through it, and finding a photograph, which she shows Laura. It’s the mansion from her dreams] That house!

Carmilla: This is where Elle and I lived. Is this the manor in your dreams?

New scene; Laura, Carmilla, Mel, Kirsch, LaF, and Perry are all in a park

Perry: So, this place Laura’s been dreaming about, the manor, it’s real?

Carmilla: Not just the manor.

Laura: Carm thinks that, from what I’m describing, the house, the clothes, what she says, that I’m dreaming things that really happened. [Perry and LaF look thoughtful] .... A hundred and fifty years ago [Mel and Kirsch look thoughtful] ... to Elle.

Perry, LaF, and Mel all look at Laura shocked; Kirsch has no reaction, he notices everyone else’s reaction

Kirsch: Am I supposed to know who Elle is?

LaF: Elle? The girl Carm turned on her mother and stopped being evil for?

Kirsch: That wasn’t Laura?

Perry: Carmilla’s epic first love?

Kirsch: Also not Laura?

Laura: Remember first year at Silas, those weird dreams I was having?

Kirsch: Only those weren’t dreams! They were warnings from Carm’s ... [look of realization]

Mel: So, you think the dreams are from Elle? Didn’t she, like, sparkle off into floaty white nothingness after Carmilla killed the giant anglerfish god? ... How is that a sentence I ended up saying?

Laura: Only one way to find out. We go back to the scene of the crime.

LaF: If it’s ghosts, we can test out the new spectrometer.

The conversation fades out, as Carmilla starts staring at Laura’s neck, the sound of pumping blood; Laura turns to Carmilla

Laura: Carm?

Carmilla shakes her attention off Laura’s neck.

Carmilla: Yeah ... I’m gonna go crack another bottle of hemo-soy

Carmilla gets up. Laura, Mel, and Kirsch look at each other. Laura gets up and follows Carmilla

Laura: Hey. Sorry about the whole “scene of the crime” thing. I know what happened between you and Elle was complicated, and I shouldn’t’ve said that.

Carmilla: No. Scene of the crime is exactly what it is. You saw those dreams. You know I ... hurt her. Hurt you.

Laura: You didn’t mean to. Maybe there’s a silver lining in all this. If this is Elle trying to warn us about something, maybe you can ... help her?

Carmilla: I’m done being a vampire. I’m done dredging up the past. I’m done with ... well-meaning therapists saying “close your eyes and think of those you’ve wronged, while I light up this funky incense”, and ...

Laura: That’s right. We have plans. And goals. And a color-coated chart [Carmilla smiles, laughing softly] None of which features some mystery from your past stealing the life that you earned. So, we are going to figure out who or what is doing this, and then we are going to -

Carmilla (looking way too cheerful): Gruesomely murder them?

Laura: Stop them. (Carm rolls her eyes) We’re going back to Styria!

Transition scene; cheesy image of a world map, showing their flight, with voiceovers

Kirsch: Where are we going?!

Laura: Styria!

Kirsch: Why are we going?

Laura: To stop Carm from re-vamping!

Kirsch: Okay, but really, why go back to the bad place with the monsters?

Laura: Because of Elle’s manor? It’s in my dream, it’s all connected? And it’s our only lead!

Montage of various foods

Kirsch: Oooh, schnitzel ...

New scene; all six walking dramatically along a path, looking determined, then the music stops, and they’re all looking exhausted

Kirsch: How much further till we get to this place?

Carmilla: It’s just ...

Laura (dropping her bag): Right around the corner

Laura and Carmilla walk towards the manor, ahead of the rest

Kirsch: Oh, yeah, it’s cool, Laura! I got your bag! Yeah.

Laura: You don’t have to do this if you don’t want. You can just stay here if it’s too much.

Carmilla: Hmm. And leave you alone to explore the mystery mansion? Hard pass.

Laura and Carmilla walk up to the entrance. We see a brief glimpse of someone in an upstairs window

Laura and Carmilla enter the manor; we see them entering from inside the building; on the wall in the foreground is a portrait of the same woman Laura saw in the mirror in her dream

Laura (entering the manor with Carmilla): Hello?

They look at each other, and continue in. Carmilla’s attention is drawn to the portrait for a long moment.

Kirsch: Hello? Knock-knock? Elle’s manor’s pretty cool!

Mel: I guess. If you dig the Harenhal vibe. Hello? Anybody?

LaF: I’m calling it. This place is totally haunted.

Perry: You don’t know that. Maybe it’s just ... creaky. It’s a lovely example of a 19th century schloss.

Kirsch: Heh, schloss.

Laura: This is exactly like my dream. Beautiful. I mean, abandoned and dusty, but beautiful.

Perry (putting rubber gloves on): Well, we can deal with the dust.

Mel: Tell me you did not bring an entire bag of cleaning supplies?

Perry: Of course I did! Do you know what dust does to expensive equipment?

LaF: We have EMF detectors, geiger counters, various spectrometers

Mel: You didn’t think maybe we’d need some actual weapons?

LaF: Well, knowledge is really the best -

Mel (pulling out a crossbow): I’m pretty sure weapons are the best weapon. Look at this princess. Carbon-fiber lens, 80-pound drawweight, capable of shooting 160 feet per second. I call her, Gertrude.

Perry: How excessive

Mel: Excessive? Do you remember senior year? You were possessed by Carmilla’s mom, the evil god who forced the entire student body, including me, to dig a pit to the literal gates of hell, or how about that time LaFontaine got brain-sucked by the giant anglerfish monster? Or how about that time that the evil baron tried to execute Carmilla? Or that time that Laura sorta, kinda, I don’t know, died?

Kirsch: We do have a lot of back-story.

Sounds of thunder and strange crashing noises, spooking everyone

Perry: Fine, fine, haunted.

Mel (to Laura and Carmilla): Tell me at least you two packed some heat?

Carmilla heads over to look at the portrait in the hall

Laura: Uh, I know krav maga. I am a weapon. I brought walkie-talkies and flashlights for everyone. There’s no cell service out here, they’re gonna come in handy!

Carmilla’s approaching the portrait slowly

Mel (off screen): How ‘bout you, Jughead? [sound of a beer can opening] Oh, Vincent van Bro brought beer.

Mel looks over at Carmilla and turns to Laura

Mel: Is that her?

Laura: Yeah. [long pause] Let’s search this place!

Mel: For a ... girl who died 150 years ago?

LaF: Better not keep her waiting.

We see a sequence of search scenes, first Mel and Kirsch looking in a room with flashlights, then Perry and LaF with flashlights and EMF detectors, then we see Laura and Carmilla entering a room. Laura sees the portrait of Carmilla that was in the background of one of her dreams. The portrait is lying on the floor, slashed. Laura picks it up.

Laura: Is that you?

Carmilla: It was.

We switch to LaF and Perry

Perry: We should be safe to push the meeting to next week, don’t you think?

LaF: Do we have to talk about this right now?

Perry: Single most important meeting of our professional careers?

LaF: Perr, we are searching a haunted castle for ghosts. This is literally the reason we started the company.

Perry: But if we had more resources, then -

LaF: Hold on, I think I’ve got a hit! Nah, it’s gone now.

Perry: Well, now, see, as part of Intrigue, we’d have all the equipment, we could scan the house in like two seconds.

LaF: Yeah, I get it. But we’re not selling out right this second, so can we focus on the task at hand? Let’s check out the next room.

They leave the room. The door closes, revealing a ghost in 19th century clothing.

We’re back to Laura and Carmilla

Laura: Looking forward to seeing her? Elle, I mean? Wouldn’t blame you if you were

Carmilla: Honestly, I’d rather not. I mean, what am I supposed to say? “Sorry I lied to you and sacrificed you to a giant fish-monster”? I doubt there’s a hallmark card.

Laura (walks over to Carm, and strokes her hair): It wasn’t all your fault.

We switch back to Mel and Kirsch. Something moves in the foreground, and Kirsch spins around to look at it, but it’s gone before a clear sight can be made. Mel raises her crossbow as they both back up. Kirsch backs up into another ghost, and starts screaming.

We get back to Laura and Carmilla. Laura’s walkie-talkie beeps.

Laura: Told her these were gonna come in handy

Kirsch (over walkie-talkie): Ghosts! The schloss is full of ghosts!

Laura and Carmilla look at each other. And suddenly another ghost shows up. They start running.

Laura: Ghosts! Ghosts! Everyone, come on!

LaF: Haunted house! Totally called it!

Perry: Run, weirdo!

Everyone’s running towards the front door. Laura and Carmilla reach it first, but the door won’t open. It’s completely stuck.

Laura: It’s stuck!

The ghosts continue to approach them. They run to another room, running into another locked door, the ghosts surrounding them. They turn to face the ghosts, who’ve stopped right in front of them.

Laura: Um ... hi. I’m Laura. These are my friends. And we’d be thrilled if you’d abandon your plans to gruesomely murder us.

One of the ghosts, Emily, speaks

Emily: Hello, Miss Karnstein.

Carmilla (confused): Hello? Wait ... I know you. How do I know you?

Emily (turning to another ghost, Charlotte): Oh, dear. Well, this is awkward. We imagined you’d recall ...

Charlotte: Killing us. I’m Charlotte. This is my sister Emily.

Laura: Carmilla killed you?

Emily: Oh, no, not quite, exactly. Her mother did the actual deed.

Laura: You’re the girls who were sacrificed to the Deep One.

Lightning. We pan over the various ghosts.

Charlotte; Yes. We are the victims of Carmilla Karnstein.

Emily: And we’d like to invite you to a dinner.

New scene. Dinner table, a roast pig in the center of the table. Emily and Charlotte are at the ends of the table. One side are Carmilla, Laura, and Kirsch, with Perry, LaF, and Mel on the other. Kirsch is eagerly digging in, while the others seem more suspicious

Emily: It’s wonderful that you’ve all been able to join us. And, naturally, we’re so glad you’ve arrived in time.

Charlotte: We’ve been waiting for weeks.

Laura: For us?

Emily: For Miss Karnstein. We hoped once she realized what had happened she’d return

Mel: Hold up. Did you just confess to flipping the vampire switch on our girl Carm here?

Emily: Oh! Goodness, no, we couldn’t have. What little research we have been able to perform suggests it was Miss Karnstein’s life-force that pulled us into the physical world. Until a few weeks ago, we were trapped in a nightmare land, doomed to endlessly repeat our greatest regrets.

LaF: This nightmare afterlife, is it more of a Jungian unconscious, or a “Through the Looking Glass” style situation?

Perry: Stop that! It’s not polite to pry into other people’s unspeakable suffering.

Laura: Why would you be connected to Carmilla’s human life?

Emily: Ah, w-we think it ... might be ... because ... it was Miss Karnstein who ...

Charlotte: She’s the reason we died

Carmilla looks uncomfortable.

Emily: Yes. The family here offered my sister and I a place to lodge

Charlotte: They neglected to mention the vampire cult

Mel: Same thing happened with my college acceptance letter

Laura: Y-you said you knew the family. Does that mean you knew Elle?

Both Emily and Charlotte look confused

Carmilla: Miss Sheridan.

Emily: Ah, yes. We knew her.

Laura: But she isn’t here with you?

Charlotte: No. She isn’t with us.

Emily: But, we’re thrilled that you are!

Carmilla (sighs and puts down her wine glass): Okay, that’s it. What’s with the Stepford act? I got you and your sister killed

Emily: Yes, but you’re here now. And according to this spell book, we need you, Carmilla, here to perform the ritual that will let us move on.

Perry: I don’t ... suppose I could take a crack at deciphering the book?

Emily: Oh, please, do. I’ve deciphered what I can, but I’m hardly an adept. Ah, from what I can tell, if we move on, your vampire symptoms will go away. I assume that’s why you’ve come? Haven’t you? Because otherwise you’d be trapped here with us forever?

New scene: The gang is in a bedroom, talking and getting ready for bed.

Mel: So ... they’re obviously evil.

Kirsch: Nah, I though they were kinda nice

Carmilla: More importantly, is this ritual of theirs even gonna fix me?

Perry (reading the spellbook): Well, it looks promising.

Carmilla: Promising? Are you telling me you were possessed by an evil goddess for, like, six months -

Perry: Eight. It was eight months.

Carmilla: And you can’t get more specific than that?

Perry: The whole book is written in code. But, if the family’s notes are correct, it seems as though it’s two birds, one stone. The ghosts move on, Carmilla stays human.

LaFontaine: That makes sense. When I scanned them, the energy from your spark was flowing straight to them.

Mel: Look, for all we know, they lured us in and trapped us here. Are we seriously gonna trust them?

Laura: What happened to them wasn’t their fault. They were girls just like you or me with their whole lives ahead of them. If this ritual helps them and keeps Carm human, we have to try it.

Later that night. Laura and Carmilla are lying in bed. Perry’s working on a laptop, sitting on the floor by the couch LaF is scanning the room with an EMF detector

Kirsch: Sweet! Is that a Gameboy?

LaF: Even better. It’s an EMF alarm. It might be nice to get a heads-up if any ghosts come calling.

LaF puts the EMF detector up on a mantle and sits down on the couch.

LaF: Psst, Perr, about before ...

Perry: Oh, I’m glad we postponed the meeting.

LaF: You are?

Perry: With all the data we’ve collected here? We’re in a much stronger bargaining position.

LaF: Really, Perr? I know this is the big leagues, but why are you so pumped to sell our company?

Perry: Do you even know what I do all day, while you’re off playing in your little lab? [LaF looks upset] I balance our budgets. Get our products approved. Handle the reckless endangerment lawsuits. I mean, at Intrigue there’d be a legal ... [Carmilla clears her throat, Perry reduces her volume] ... there’d be a legal department, LaF

LaF: I see. And, uh, by “playing” you mean the research that makes our company possible?

Perry: Oh, that is not fair, you -

LaF: You know what? I am too tired to deal with this right now. [LaF lies down on the couch, pulling a blanket overthemself. Perry goes back to her computer]

New scene. Kirsch is making a sandwich, and Mel approaches him, startling him, causing him to drop his sandwich.

Kirsch: On, man, we killed my sandwich. [Kirsch picks up the sandwich] Tutti abal tutti. [to Mel] Five-second rule. [bites into sandwich]

Mel: Have we, or have we not, had multiple conversations about not wandering away in the haunted house?

Kirsch: I know. It’s just the ghost ladies are so nice. And you know how I feel about leftovers.

Mel: Kirsch, if your stomach gets me dragged into some kind of black girl dies first bullshit, I am gonna come back from the dead and haunt your bar fridge.

They hear a noise coming from another room, and go to check it out

Charlotte: They aren’t going to go along with it.

Emily: They’ll get caught up in the surprise. You’ll see. It will all come out exactly as we planned.

Charlotte: Why aren’t we just telling them?

Kirsch’s stomach growls, alerting Emily and Charlotte to their presence. Kirsch and Mel hurry off to hide, while Emily and Charlotte leave the room, locking it behind them.

Back to the bedroom, Laura and Carmilla are asleep. Laura has another dream. Laura notices the nightgown from before

Laura: Ugh, this again? Really?

She hears Mattie from another room

Mattie: You would do well, little sister, to finish your task here. We live for the eternal moment, chérie. We are power.

There’s further talking but it’s indistinct, Laura notices some creepy paintings as she walks through a hall

Mattie: Faîtes attention, chérie. You would do well, little sister, to finish your task here without further delay.

Laura peeks into a room and sees Carmilla dressed in all black, holding a book.

Laura: Did you ever think that our part in this, that what we do might be ... unforgivable?

Mattie: You must stop reading the romantics! [takes book away from her] We live for the eternal moment, chérie! We are power, pleasure [Carmilla walks away from Laura’s sight, while Mattie walks into her sight] and are only accountable for our desires. And maman, who is growing impatient. Faîtes attention, chérie. Votre mère vous met en garde contre l’assassin.

Mattie walks towards the door. Laura runs off. Carmilla and Mattie leave the room.

Laura enters the room Mattie and Carmilla just left. She sees a broach on a plain table.

Carmilla (faint voiceover): You’re wearing the broach

There’s a sound of girls laughing, and then a thunderclap, and a ring of paper dolls appears, surrounding the broach. Laura looks at the paper dolls. Suddenly the laughing changes to screams

Woman: No! I don’t want to go back!

The dolls start to burn and are replaced by a ring of ash in seconds. Carmilla’s gloved hand touches Laura, and suddenly she wakes up in the real world.

Carmilla: Hey, you all right?

Laura: Another nightmare. You and Mattie were talking and she said something about an assassin, and then these paper dolls disintegrated, and I don’t know. It seemed more coherent when it was happening.

Carmilla: You’re still havin the dreams? But we’re here, I mean, why would you still be having them, unless ...

Mel walks in

Mel: Something else is going on.

Carmilla: Knocking, still not a thing.

Mel: The Hunger wanted a midnight snack and while he was getting it, we caught our ghostesses talking about some kind of surprise we aren’t gonna like and sneaking into a locked room. So they’re hiding something. Or someone.

Daytime. Laura, Carmilla, Mel, and Kirsch confronting Emily and Charlotte.

Emily: Hiding something? How could we possibly -

Mel: What’s behind the door?

Charlotte: Why should that concern you?

Mel: Maybe I don’t like surprises.

Charlotte: You look like a woman who can cope. [Mel and Charlotte share a long stare]

Laura: This could all be easily resolved by just showing us what’s behind door number one.

Emily: Of course. If you insist, but ... you’ll ruin the surprise.

Carmilla: We’ll risk it. [Emily turns to unlock and open the door] We’d kind of like to know if you’re planning to ... [They walk into the room and see all kinds of party preparation] ... to throw a party?

Laura’s looking around excited, while Carmilla looks confused

Emily: To thank you for helping us.

Carmilla: You’re throwing a party?

Charlotte: The ritual can’t be performed until the Ash Moon, and Emily always loved to dress up.

Mel (to Charlotte): I can’t imagine you’re a slouch in that department.

Carmilla: You can’t be serious

Laura (looking at a bottle of champagne): I think it’s sweet. It’s like a pre-ritual going-away party, before they go away. Permanently.

Emily: Exactly! And, we would be honored if you would attend.

Laura: Yeah, of course! [she notices a closet with ball gowns] Oh, my gosh! [she takes out a gown] Ball gowns? Are we gonna get our strictly ballroom on? Aaa! Best haunting ever! [she gives Carmilla a quick peck on the cheek and runs out excitedly]

Exterior of mansion

Carmilla (off camera): How’s it going in there?

Interior. Carmilla’s sitting on a couch already in a dress while Laura’s struggling to get her dress on behind a dressing screen.

Laura: BBC period dramas do not spend enough time on how complicated these clothes are. I swear, I’ve been in here for 40 minutes. Hey, thanks for going along with this, by the way.

Carmilla: Well, what’s to go along with? I like a canape as much as the next girl.

Laura: Still, it can’t be fun hanging out with you ....

Carmilla: Former victims?

Laura: No matter how nice they are.

Carmilla: Hmm, yeah, well, I’d appreciate it if they took it down a notch.

Laura: You’d prefer a roaring rampage of revenge?

Carmilla: Well, all this forgiveness is making me twitchy.

Laura (putting a choker on around her neck) You think maybe that’s cause deep down you still don’t think you can be forgiven?

Carmilla: I see we’ve reached the amateur psychoanalysis round. See, this is why I blew off that therapist. You know, some things are just too much to talk about in an office full of crystal dolphins.

Laura: I think maybe that’s the point of the talking

Carmilla: Yeah, except it wasn’t just talking, there was this manifes-

Laura steps out from behind the dressing screen. Carmilla is completely dumbfounded by how Laura looks.

Laura: You aren’t saying anything. Did I put it on wrong? I look ridiculous. I do. I look ridiculous, I -

Carmilla gets up from the couch and approaches Laura. They kiss. They separate and Carmilla takes a long look at Laura.

Carmilla: Forty minutes to get you into that, hunh? Bet I could get you out of it faster.

They kiss again. Carmilla turns Laura around, her hand around her waist, kissing her collar

Laura: We’re already gonna be late for the ball

Carmilla: So let us be late.

Carmilla unzips Lauras dress, removing it, exposing her corset, Laura turns back around to face Carmilla, as they kiss. Carmilla turns around and Laura removed her dress.

Laura drops to her knees, kissing Carmilla as she does. She kisses the inside of Carmilla’s thigh, as Carmilla gently plays with her hair. Laura stands up, briefly kissing Carmilla, and then breaking away to lie down on the bed, Carmilla joins her on the bed, she kisses Laura, and then moves down her body, kissing her left breast. Carmilla lifts up Laura’s skirt, and dives under it. The camera focus on Laura’s face as she gasps in pleasure

Carmilla wipes her mouth as she goes in to kiss Laura. Laura flips them over so that she’s on top. Carmilla removes Laura’s corset leaving her topless (seen from behind), Laura drops back down to kiss Carmilla as Carmilal’s hands run along Laura’s back, scratching it, as Laura’s hand moves off screen, Carmilla moaning

We see Laura and Carmilla dressed fully again, with masquerade masks running down the stairs, Laura in the lead

Carmilla: I’m coming.

They reach the ballroom. An unnamed ghost greets them. There are several pairs of ghosts dancing, as well as LaF and Perry. Mel is standing in the background watching, next to Charlotte.

LaF: Looking good, frosh!

Carmilla looks at Laura

Laura (laughing): What?

Carmilla: May I have this dance?

They go out on the dance floor, giggling, and start dancing

Perry: I’m sorry about the way I handled things last night.

LaF: It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean any of it.

Perry: I may have been a little harsh, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong.

LaF: Let’s not fight in front of the ghosts, honey.

Charlotte looks bored.

Mel: It’s not your thing either, hunh?

Charlotte: Emily has always wanted to belong to society. I understood life differently. [Mel looks at her] If you have to conform, you never belonged.

Mel (smiling): Okay, how did you fall for Vampirella’s schtick?

Charlotte: I didn’t. My sister vanished. I went looking of her. She’s never forgiven herself.

Mel: What about you?

Charlotte: I didn’t leave her then, how could I now?

Mel: You wanna try this stupid dance?

Charlotte: Obviously.

Mel and Charlotte dance.

We see several dancing couples, including Kirsch with another unnamed ghost-lady

Laura (slow-dancing very close with Carmilla): This is nice. Kinda like that grad ball we never got ‘cause our school was a supernatural death trap. [Carmilla chuckles] I missed this. I mean, not the pulse-pounding terror, but ... the parts where we help people. Though, I do wish we’d figure out why the ghosts were here in the first place.

Carmilla: Hey, Laura ...

Laura: I know, no need to keep prying. The ghosts will move on. You will get your life back and ... we can go back home.

Carmilla: No. I, um ... I think at that therapist’s appointment, I may have, um ...

Laura notices the table from her dream, and has a brief flashback to the dolls disintegrating and other scenes

Carmilla: Laura?

Laura: Sorry. Weird déjà vu.

Suddenly she sees dream!Carmilla for a brief second. She backs away from Carmilla

Carmilla: Hey, what’s going on?

Laura: I though ... I thought I saw ... the woman in black, the ... you! The you from my dreams, but that’s impossible, right?

Carmilla: Come on, let’s sit down.

Laura sits down on a chair

Laura: I’ll get you a drink, okay?

Laura has a dream-vision. Carmilla, all in black, with a woman dressed in white with purple fringes.

Carmilla: Come with me, loving me, to death, or else hate me and still come with me, hating me through death and after

Laura snaps back to reality, LaF is next to her.

LaF: Are you okay?

Carmilla arrives with two glasses of champaign. Laura notices a woman dressed in black, with a mask. Laura gets up, rushing to where she saw the woman, but the woman is gone.

Laura: Where is she?

Carmilla: Hey ...

Laura: She was right here!

Mel: What’s going on, Hollis?

Laura: The woman in black, the one wearing a mask

Mel: Everybody’s wearing a mask. [to Charlotte] Do you know who she’s talking about?

Charlotte (to Laura): Maybe if you’re not feeling well, you should sit down.

Laura: I’m dreaming things while I’m awake now. What’s next?

A light glow fills the room.

Emily: It’s almost time! The Ash Moon has begun. Gather round for the ritual.

Skip to all the ghosts plus Carmilla in a circle around a black table (the same one from Laura’s dream), Laura and the others are standing outside of the circle.

Emily: Before we begin, I want to say how grateful we are. Whatever you’ve done in the past, you’ve come to help us now, and I think that shows a strength of character that is quite remarkable.

Carmilla: Yeah, sure.

Charlotte: It’s time, Emily.

Perry: It’s your last night on Earth. Are you sure you don’t want another drink before you go?

Charlotte: The ritual must be performed before the Ash Moon ends at sunrise. Otherwise, we’re trapped here forever. So, no.

Emily begins reciting some foreign language and places a broach in the center of the table, the one from Laura’s dream

Carmilla: Wait, that’s the broach that I ...

Emily and Charlotte place her hands on the broach, and she gasps, frozen. The ghosts join hands.

Laura: Carm?

A glowing light appears from Carmilla’s chest, moving into the broach.

LaF: That’s Carmilla’s spark! It’s leaving her! Wh-why is it going in to the broach?

The ghosts start shaking and seizing

Kirsch: Uh ... guys?

LaF (looking worried) Did that spell say anything about spirit entanglement?

Emily: It’s not supposed to happen like this!

Laura: Something’s wrong!

She starts to approach the circle, but is stopped by Perry

Perry: Laura, stay back, it’s dangerous!

Laura: We have to stop the ritual!

Emily: I can’t! It’s out of control!

Suddenly Emily disappears, in a brief flame, which spread through the circle

Unnamed ghost: We’ve been tricked!

Charlotte: I don’t want to go back!

LaF: We need to disrupt the circle!

LaF rushes towards the circle to try to break it. They free Charlotte from the circle, but get caught themself, pushing Charlotte back into Laura before they disappear.

Perry: LaF!

Laura rushes twoards Carmilla

Perry: Don’t touch Carmilla, it will take you too!

A masked woman appears, the same woman we saw earlier, humming.

Woman (to Carmilla): Did you think you’d get away with it? Summon us up to ease your mind and then just waltz away? Did you really think there’d be no consequences?

Laura: It’s you.

The woman removes her mask, revealing herself to be Elle.

Elle: Surprise! Not the brightest little ingénue, are we?

She grabs the broach. There’s a bright light and a high-pitched ring as everyone falls back. When the light fades, everyone’s on the floor, geting up. Except Carmilla, who’s not getting up. Elle takes something from the table and leaves.

Kirsch notices a pile of dust where LaF had been

Kirsch: Is that pile of dust LaFontaine?

Perry: They’re j-... they’re just ... they’re just gone

Mel (to Charlotte): Are you okay?

Laura (off screen): Carm?

Charlotte: I need to hide

Charlotte runs off

The camera shifts to Laura and Carmilla, Carmilla’s on the floor, not moving

Laura: Carm? Carm? [Checks Carmilla’s pulse] Carm! [Laura starts shaking her] Carm! Hey! Hey! C’mon, hey! [slaps Carmilla’s cheeks trying to wake her up] Carm! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Carmilla opens her eyes

Carmilla: Hey ...

Laura pulls her up and they embrace. Laura’s eyes widen in shock

Laura: Your heart. It’s not beating. You’re a vampire.

The camera shifts to Elle at the front door, trying to get out, but the door is still stuck.

Elle: Nooo!!!! Why won’t it work? I’ve sent all the ghosts away! [takes out broach and starts chanting in foreign language again; she tries again with no success] Did one of them escape me?

Back in the bedroom, Kirsch is changing, while Perry reads the book.

Kirsch: So, did I miss something, or did that go radically not as planned?

Laura: It was Elle. She was at the masquerade. She knew about the ritual, she knew exactly what was going to happen.

Kirsch: How could she have known?

Carmilla: Because Emily and Charlotte lied to us. They had to have known she was here

Laura: You think vacuumed, screaming back to a hellish nightmarescape was part of their plan? [Perry and Carmilla look at her] Sorry. We will figure this out. We will find LaF. Why would Elle do this?

Carmilla (holding a bottle of hemo-soy): You heard her, to punish me for what I did by stealing my life. [drinks from the bottle]

Laura: But she can’t steal anything, she’s trapped here just like us unless all the ghosts move on.

Perry: But the ghosts are gone. All of them except Elle and Charlotte. Elle can’t leave until Charlotte is also sent back to the nightmare land, like all the other ghosts. LaF thwarted her plan

Carmilla: And now that my spark’s in the broach and Elle has the broach, if she gets rid of Charlotte, she could become human and leave.

Laura: We have to find her. Now.

Mel (entering the room): That’s easier said then done. Miss Sheridan is gone, girl.

Carmilla: Not to mention we don’t exactly know how to extract a life force from a magical broach.

Carmilla sets down the now-empty bottle of hemo-soy, and picks up another one

Mel: You may want to go easy on those, that's the only case

Carmilla: Terrific.

Laura: But, Elle must have the spell already. I mean, that’s her escape plan, right? So we have to find Elle before she gets to Charlotte, then Perry can find the spell to put your spark back -

Perry: Laura, what are you talking about? We have to find LaF first.

Laura: Of course, of course, we have to find both of them, but if we lose Elle now, then all of use are trapped -

Perry: We have to find Elle later, LaF comes first!

Laura: We can’t just let her take Carmilla’s life!

Awkward silence as everyone looks at each other

Kirsch: We could start in the study

Mel: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but beefcheeks is right. We don’t have much time.

Mel, Kirsch, and Perry leave the room. Carmilla approaches Laura, touching her arm. Laura pulls away

Laura: I need to get out of this dress

Carmilla: It will be easier if you let someone help

Carmilla reaches for Laura, Laura spins around facing her angrily

Laura: Did you summon up the ghosts? Because that’s what she said, Elle, that you summoned her up.

Carmilla: I think it’s ... possible.

Laura: Possible? How do you not know whether you summoned up the ghosts of your former victims who maybe want some light, refreshing revenge?

Carmilla: Because, it was just something stupid that happened at the therapist’s appointment!

Laura: What?

Carmilla: She ... said I could never move forward unless I dealt with my past, so ... she had me think about Elle and the others, and, you know, there was the usual “manifest your issues” crap, but ... I had completely forgotten about it until my issues actually ... manifested

Laura: And when were you going to share this little piece of information with me?

Carmilla: I was waiting for the right moment.

Laura: You know what would’ve been a good moment? Any time before the ghost of your former lover killed you! (starting to cry) She killed you. I thought she killed you.

Carmilla: Hey [opens arms] come here [Laura embraces her, sobbing against her] I’m still here. OK? I’m still here. We’re gonna get my life back, okay? And all those things we want, every single point on your five-year plan, we’re gonna do them, okay? Okay, let’s get you out of this thing.

We switch to Mel, Perry, and Kirsch in the study

Perry: Either Emily decoded the spell wrong, or Elle tricked her. The spell she did cast used Carmilla’s spark to force the ghosts off to the nightmare land that Emily described.

Mel: You think that’s where the braniac ended up? [Perry nods] You think you can get them back?

Perry: I think the real moving-on spell might do it. But, that means we only have till sunrise to find the code key. [Mel looks out the window at the moon] And I’ll need Carmilla’s spark.

Mel: Well, that makes getting the broach back priority number one. Hollis’ll be chuffed. [looking at Perry] Perry, LaFontaine knows you’re looking for them. They know. It’s what we do.

Mel slaps Perry’s leg in comfort. Perry returns the gesture

Back in the bedroom, Laura’s in her regular clothes, and Carmilla’s putting on a shirt. A humming sound is heard, and Laura flashes to another dream sequence.

Carmilla enters a room, looking very happy, dressed in white

Carmilla: It’s done! We leave tonight. In three days, we’ll be on an ocean liner headed for New York.

Elle looks less than thrilled. She stands up from where she was sitting

Carmilla: You’re gonna love New York! It’s full of ... concerts, and theater, and ... life. Your life life is gonna be so much bigger than you ever imagined!

Elle has now been replaced by Laura. Laura!Ell turns aroung to face Carmilla.

Carmilla: Wh-what are you doing?

The humming returns. Elle appears creepily sliding up Laura, she takes Laura’s right hand, a knife now in it, and slices her left palm open.

We suddenly return to the real world, Laura’s completing the slicing motion

Carmilla: Laura! Hey! Are you alright?

She looks down and sees Laura’s palm sliced open.

Laura: What in Stoker’s name is going on?

Time-skip. Perry and Mel are now present. Perry is getting gauze out of a first aid kit while Mel supports Laura’s hand.

Mel: So Elle can dream-kabob you in real life? Is that a normal ghost thing? Are we supposed to know they could do that?

Laura: She’s sent me dreams before. This is the first time she’s reached out and slashed me.

The camera focuses on Carmilla, looking broodily out the window

Perry: Oh, dear

Laura: No, no, no, no, no. Not “oh dear”, we do not need an “oh dear” right now.

The conversation becomes slightly muted, as we hear the sound of beating hearts

Perry: Well, I mean, I’m still deciphering, but there’s several spells in this book which might make ghosts much more powerful, especially in the dream world.

The camera shifts back to Laura, Mel, and Perry

Laura: Right, so Elle’s faster, better, stronger. Can we undo that? Use the book to soup ourselves up?

Perry (reading): “Side effects may include ... anxiety, insomnia, dream contagion, and ... death”

Laura: So ... no. Wait ... dream contagion? Is that like ... sometimes in the dreams it’s like she can’t completely control them, like I’m seeing things that she wouldn’t want me to see. Like just now, I saw you getting ready to leave for New York.

Carmilla: No one’s going anywhere until we find Charlotte. The Craft here will keep researching. You, Mel, and frat-boy can ... [notices that Kirsch isn’t around] Where’s the frat boy?

Mel: That burrito-chomping, protein-powder-snorting, gullible, mush-brained ...

We see a pile of ash with a sandwich on it

Mel: ... dope.

We pan up to see Carmilla, Perry, Laura, and Mel looking at what used to be Kirsch.

Mel: I told him

Perry: It’s the same as LaF.

Laura: Okay, we have to find Charlotte and get that broach back before Elle finishes this little re-enactment of And Then There Were None.

External view: The moon in the sky

Laura (voiceover): Search every nook and cranny, Charlotte has to be somewhere

Carmilla: Be careful. Elle knows this place better than we ever will.

We see Laura and Carmilla searching. They enter a room, and Carmilla looks at the books on a mantle. She pulls one out as Laura watches.

Another flasback-dream. Laura (as Elle) lying on Carmilla’s lap as Carmilla reads from a book labelled Le Fanu Poems

Carmilla: “Girls are caterpillars while they live in the world, to be finally butterflies when the summer comes. But in the meantime, there are grubs and larvae, so says Monsieur Buffon”

There’s a thunderclap, and then we see Elle standing behind the couch

Elle: To think of the trouble I went to, [Laura gets up, running for the door] warning you, [Elle blocks her escape thinking you’d learn from my mistake.

Laura: Yeah, cause Carm’s the villain here. Aren’t you the one zapping innocent people for no reason?

Carmilla: I’m doing it to keep what’s mine.

Laura: That life isn’t yours.

Elle: It’s what I’m owed. And I wouldn’t waste it on some banal five-year plan.

Laura notices LaF drawing some kind of symbol on a mirror.

Laura: LaF?

The dream sequence ends abruptly, Carmilla’s still in the middle of taking the book out

Laura: LaF! I saw LaF!

We skip ahead, Laura sitting on a couch with a pad of paper, Perry and Mel on either side, and Carmilla behind them

Laura: Drawing some sort of symbol, looked like this ... or maybe like this. [Laura’s drawing two versions of the symbol she saw in her dream]

Mel: How did you get past second grade?

Laura: I saw it for half a second in a ghost-induced nightmare, give me a break.

Carmilla: Any idea what it means?

Perry: No, but if LaF thinks it’s important enough to send from beyond the vale ... if I could just identify it, maybe it could hep decipher the moving-on spell. I’ll try to figure this out, while you guys go get a life.

Laura gets up and moves toward the door

Carmilla (to Mel): Go with her, keep her safe.

Mel: What are you going to do?

Carmilla: Well, young lady stole my life and turned me back into a vampire? So, I’m gonna remind her what that means.

Mel (to Perry): How about you?

Perry: Oh, I’ve got the EMF. If it so much as chirps, I’ll shriek.

Mel gets up to follow Laura. We see Mel and Laura heading down some stairs, as Perry studies the spell book, and the EMF detector produces static noise, and then starts beeping, Perry looks up.

We switch scenes to Carmilla entering a room, where Elle waits, facing away from the door.

Elle: I used to think you and I would spend our lives reading to each other. If only I’d known how brief one of those lives was going to be.

Carmilla: Hello, Elle.

Elle: Is that all you have to say to me? After what you did?

Carmilla: I never meant to hurt you.

Elle: Oh, don’t apologize. [Elle turns around to face Carmilla] It costs you nothing.

Carmilla: So, what? This is about me paying for my sins?

Elle: You never even stopped to think if you deserved this life. I’ve watched you. All these years. You've never thought of anyone but yourself.

Carmilla: Well, that’s some big talk coming from the girl who sent her friends to a nightmare land.

Elle: Me? Oh, no, I’m just thinking about myself. Oh, wait, I wonder who taught me that?

Carmilla rushes at Elle to hit her, but Elle vanishes and reappears by the door.

Elle: Oooh [chuckles] Not very ladylike, Miss Karnstein.

From off screen, Laura’s scream can be heard

Carmilla: Laura!

Elle: Better run, Carmilla. These old house are so dangerous, after all.

We see Carmilla running with her supser-speed to the study, where Laura and Mel are already present

Laura: Damn it! [camera pans to the pile of ash that used to be Perry, there are various notes around her, the only one that can be seen clearly says “... is a giant trap??”] Perry. You never should’ve left her alone

Mel: No sign of the spell book, either. [to Carmilla] I take it your little chat with the ghost of girlfriends past was a bust?

Carmilla: Yeah, I’m getting pretty sick of this haunting crap.

Charlotte: Imagine how we feel. [All three turn around to see Charlotte in the room with them] I’m wondering if we might be of assistance to each other.

Charlotte’s sitting on a couch with the others around her

Charlotte: Miss Sheridan said you would never go along with the spell if you knew she was with us. I should’ve known that she only wanted your life for herself. It was all she ever talked about. The wide world that she’d been denied. As if the same thing hadn’t happened to us all. (to Mel) I’m sorry about your friend. I didn’t know what would happen when they pulled me back.

Laura: Can you help us get them back?

Charlotte: I don’t know. But we have to stop Miss Sheridan.

Mel: You got any thoughts on the stopping front?

Charlotte: It’s me she wants, so perhaps ...

Another dream sequence. Laura and Elle are alone in a room. Laura’s sitting in a chair while Elle approaches her, pulling out a knife.

Laura: Do we really have to do this Nightmare on Elm Street crap?

Elle: Fine [turns around, then turns back, now holding a tray with a tea pot and tea cups, the room gets brighter] Let’s speak as reasonable women. Elle sits down in the chair net to Laura’s, setting down the tea tray. So. Your friends are trapped beyond the veil. You, Carmilla, and your ... trigger-happy accomplice are next. Sugar?

Laura: ... sure

Elle: But, if you hand over Charlotte, and let me keep this life -

Laura: It isn’t yours to keep

Elle: That’s beside the point! Let me keep it ... and I’ll bring your friends back. You can all ... leave this place.

Elle hands Laura a tea cup, she accepts it warily

Laura: What happens to Charlotte?

Elle: Well, I’m afraid poor Charlotte will have to ... follow her sister. But, you know that was always going to happen, so.

Laura: She’s just like you. They all are. Don’t they deserve a chance to move on?

Elle: Oh! [laughs] Oh, you haven’t figured it out yet. The only way that Charlotte and Emily can reach their ... everlasting rest, is if Carmilla sacrifices her human life. [Laura looks shocked] So, let’s not pretend that you’d sacrifice Carmilla’s life for a few wayward spirits, any more than I would.

Laura: You can’t just leave them trapped in a nightmare!

Elle: You’d let your friends die in here to ... help them?

Laura: There has to be another way!

Elle: Ugh! You’ve had your chance. [the room darkens again, thunder cracks] Whatever happens now is your fault.

Laura’s back in the real world, gasping back to consciousness

Carmilla: Elle? Are you alright? Did she do anything to yo uin the dreamscape?

Laura: No. I just wanna get her out of my head. I wanna get your life back.

Carmilla: Well, we think we can lure her out into the open by using Charlotte as bait.

Laura: You’d do that for us?

Charlotte: There’s only a few hours left of the Ash Moon. If Emily and I want to move on, it’s our only chance.

External shot of mansion, shots of various rooms. We see Charlotte coming down the stairs

Elle: There you are! You know, it’s impolite to cause your host so much trouble.

Charlotte: I’m sure I’ll find a way to repay you.

Elle grabs Charlotte’s neck, pushing her up against a wall.

Laura appears, followed by Carmilla, and then Mel with her crossbow, surrounding her

Elle: A trap? You aren’t serious.

Carmilla: Vampire, warrior, journalist. I like our chances. Let’s have a little chat about taking things that don’t belong to us.

Elle: You first

Elle zooms over to Mel, vanishing her into Ash

Charlotte: Mel!

Elle: Best get the broom out. [kicks the pile of ashes, then zooms over to do the same to Charlotte] Look at that. Then there were three. [to Laura] You should’ve taken up my offer, sweetheart.

Carmilla: Offer?

Elle: Your life for you friends. Don’t worry, Laura declined when she discovered that Emily and Charlotte can’t move on without destroying your precious spark.

Carmilla: You’ll never be able to enjoy it. You’ll spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder [Rushes to grab Elle’s arm] Wondering if it’s my step you hear at the door.

Elle attempts to slice Carmilla with her knife, but Carmilla dodges too quickly.

Elle: I’ll take my chances. I’ve got the broach. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.

Carmilla: Maybe not. But she knows krav maga.

Elle: What?

Laura grabs Elle’s arm, wrestling the knife out of it, they fight

Laura: Why do people always forget that?

Elle, Laura, and Carmilla fight for the broach. A bright glow appears from teh light, and they all disappear.

Laura appears in a blank white space

Laura: Hello? Carm? Carm! [creepy whispers and howling wind are all we can hear] Pull yourself together, Hollis.

Laura finds herself back in a dream version of the mansion. She sees Carmilla’s rebirthday cake on the same table that they’d performed the ritual at before. The cake then turns into the broach. Laura picks it up. She hears herself, speaking in a sad, almost-monotone, fashion

Dream!Laura: Oh, crap, we’re live? [Laura turns and sees a version of herself dressed in grey, with a microphone for news 9 (the same as in the “local news” clips from the beginning). Behind her is a twisted version of her 5-year plan, with all the goals turned into failures] Today, on Toronto News 9, it’s harsh reality. Abandon your childhood dreams for the dubious security of a subpar paycheck. Spend your days glorifying clickbait and your nights letting fear and misery drive away friends and loved ones. Accept that life is an unbroken chain of mediocrity stretching on and on and on. This is Laura Hollis reporting live from a failed career.

Laura notices Elle approaching and runs down the stairs away from her

Elle: I want my life, you little thief! I want my life!

Laura opens a door, and appears in a brightly-lit room with dream!Carmilla and dream!Elle

Laura: Doors are arbitrary. Wonderful

Dream!Carmilla: Oh, you’re gonna love New York. There’s theaters and conerts and ... life.

Laura: Wait, I know this. I dreamed this.

Dream!Carmilla: Your life is going to be so much bigger than you’ve ever imagined. What are you doing?

We see Dream!Elle taking out a knife. The real Elle appears, grabbing Laura and dragging her out by the ears

Elle: You don’t belong here!

Laura runs off, with Elle continuing to follow her.

She appears in another room, with a weeping Emily being held by Charlotte

Dream!Emily: She laughed. Miss Sheridan, she laughed at the very idea of ... Why did I trust her? Why did I not ... I was supposed to keep you safe.

Laura: Oh, God. Poor Emily. Poor Charlotte.

Elle appears in the doorway.

Elle: Do you know what will happen if you die here?

Laura: Let me guess. I die in the real world too

Elle: Worse. You’ll be trapped, in this hell made of dead minds. I wonder if you’ll feel so sympathetic then?

Laura: Is that what happened to you?

Elle: I don’t want your pity. I want my life! [Elle grabs Laura] I can take it from you living, or I can take it from you dead.

Laura: You’ve seen my dreams. [she kicks Elle in the stomach] Have I ever gone down without a fight?

Laura runs off. She runs into another room, which is the same one from before

Laura: Stuck in an endless loop of someone else’s damage. Classic me.

Dream!Carmilla: Oh, you’re gonna love New York. There’s theaters and concerts and ... life.

Laura notices the real Carmilla behind a couch, watching

Laura: Oh, Carm! Carm! [she runs over to real Carmilla]

Dream!Carmilla (partly overlapping with Laura): Your life’s gonna be so much bigger than you ever imagined! What are you doing?

Dream!Elle slices her left palm. Dream!Carmilla looks away

Dream!Elle: I met a woman in the village today. She said strange things about you. [Dream!Elle raises her palm, lifting it towards dream!Carmilla] What’s wrong? Why won’t you look at me, Carmilla? LOOK AT ME!

Dream!Carmilla looks up, for a brief second, her fangs appear, she hisses and moves towards Elle, before she stops herself. But it’s too late.

Dream!Elle: She was right. You’re a monster.

Dream!Carmilla: I can explain ...

Dream!Elle: Oh, I’ve heard enough of your lies. All your promises. All your talk of a new life.

Dream!Carmilla: No, not lies, in the colonies, things’ll be different! No one will know us! You’ll see that!

Dream!Elle: As if I would go anywhere with you now. No. My new friend is waiting in a carriage below. She is going to take me travelling She’ll show me the wonders of the world.

Dream!Carmilla is horrified, shaking her head

Dream!Carmilla: No, you can’t go with her. Elle, I know, I know I lied, but the horror she has planned for you is much worse than -

Dream!Elle: Worse?! Worse than saying that she loved me ... [whispered] while she drank my blood? [loud] WHILE SHE DRANK MY BLOOD?

Dream!Carmilla (on the verge of tears): Please ...

Dream!Elle: Don’t worry. I’ve told her where you are. She’ll send someone to deal with you.

Dream!Elle leaves the room, as dream!Carmilla falls to her knees sobbing

The camera then pans to Dream!Elle in the room as at the start

Laura: What, is this on repeat? How many times have you watche this?

Dream!Carmilla (entering the room): It’s done. We leave tonight. In three days, we’ll be on an ocean liner headed for New York.

The real Elle appears, Laura and Carmilla hide. Elle leaves

Dream!Carmilla: You’re gonna love New York There’s theaters and concerts and ... life! Oh, your life’s gonna be so much bigger than you ever imagined!

Laura leads the real Carmilla out of the room. They’re now in a staircase.

Laura: Hey! Hey. It’s okay. Hey, you are not there anymore. You are here, with me, right now. And I have the broach. [she places the broach in Carmilla’s hand] If you can just ... absorb it. [Nothing happens]

Carmilla: Nothing.

Laura: Of course not. Of course we still need some stupid spell!

Carmilla: Maybe I should give her my life.

Laura: What? Carm, you can’t! She’s unhinged!

Carmilla: Not to her ... to them. Laura, everything you saw in there ... it’s everything I’ve been avoiding for years. Pretending like being human meant I didn’t do all of those awful things. How is it fair that I get this life while they’re just trapped here? After everything I’ve done?

Laura: Okay. [sniffles] Okay, [sniffles] A, let’s acknowledge that Ell and your mother share some of this blame, and B, we will figure out another way, a way that doesn’t involve you giving up your life.

Carmilla: You mean find a way to avoid responsibility? Mmm-mm [shakes head] You heard Elle, there’s no other way. It’s my life for their freedom.

Laura: What about our life together? Our future? You’re just gonna give up on that?

Carmilla: Laura, I’m not giving up on that -

Laura: Cause, we’re supposed to have arguments over who does dishes, and cupcakes to celebrate big days at work, and grandkids. What is that gonna look like if you can live like you’re 25 forever?

Carmilla: You think I don’t want those things, too?

Laura: Please don’t give up on our life.

Carmilla: I’m not giving up. But I can’t keep running away. Not after what I’ve done.

Laura: Okay [they kiss, then in barely a whisper:] Thank you. [normal volume] Let’s go save some ghosts

We see Elle, pissed off by the front door.

Laura and Carmilla walk through a passageway. A hooded figure in black passes them by, the same ifgure from the dream where Laura saw Carmilla being lowered into the blood-coffin

Laura: Seriously? People can’t just dream about being audited?

They see LaF standing the hallway.

Laura: LaF! [runs to LaF, huggin them] How did you --- ?

LaF: Escape my personal hell? I’ve been through, like, three apocalypses, I can tell the difference.

Laura: Have you found any of the others?

LaF: Funny you should mention that. [LaF opens a door] I’ve been trying to wake her, but she keeps confusing me for ... me.

Perry is watching herself doing paperwork, with Dream!LaF beside her

Dream!Perry: That’s form 83-B done. [a pile of papers appears beside Dream!Perry] Just filing a hundred of these daily ...

Dream!LaF: You don’t mind taking care of these right? There’ll be just, like, 5 or 6 million pages. You can do this alone; you don’t need me. See you in six years.

Laura wakes the real Perry

Perry: Laura? What are you doing in my ... strangely bureaucratic nightmare?

Laura: Elle zapped us into nightmare land. We have to do the spell before sunrise which is coming up fast.

Perry: Well, I had to read the pages before Elle zapped me, but without the code key to decipher the spell -

LaF (clearing their throat): I've got the code key.

Perry: Oh! Yes, the symbol! Do you have the full thing?

LaF: Uh, yeah, I’ve literally got a photographic memory [LaF points at their cybor ete]

Perry: Oh, I could just kiss you on your robot eye!

Sadly, there is no kiss.

The four walk down a hallway, rescuing others from their dreams

Laura (to Mel): You’re safe

Kirsch: Why are people always hunting me for sport?

Perry (leading the others to the room where the ritual is to be performed): Okay, circle up. We don’t need to hold hands or anything, the spell is much more powerful. But, it might be more cozy that way.

Mel: So, what happens to us after the ghosts move on?

Perry: Oh, um, well, we’ll either find ourselves back at the schloss, or cease to exist entirely.

Mel: It’s better than our usual odds

Emily: I’m sorry, not to criticize any plan that would clearly be so much to our benefit, but ...

Charlotte: Doesn’t that mean you have to give up your human life?

Carmilla: Yeah. Well, I’m responsible for what happened to you, so ... this is how I can help.

Carmilla sets the broach down. It turns into Carmilla’s rebirthday cake.

Kirsch: Woah, what happened to the, uh ...

Laura: It’s a cake now. Don’t ask.

Kirsch: Okay.

Carmilla: Alright, uh, let’s get this ritual started before I change my mind.

Perry pulls out a piece of paper and starts chanting in an foreign language. Carm leans over, to blow out the candles on the cake, when Elle suddenly grabs her from behind with a knife

Laura: Carm!

Elle: You think I’m gonna let you do this? Steal everything from me again?!

Laura: But Carm really isn’t the one who you blame for that, is she? I’ve seen that moment between you two over and over again. You had everything that you ever wanted and you gave it up because you were afraid.

Elle: They lied to me. Carmilla, her mother, they betrayed and murdered me!

Laura: You’re right, it isn’t fair what happened to you, but that’s not an excuse. Everything that you’re doing right now, hurting everyone else, hurting yourself, it’s just because you’re afraid of what comes next, but you don’t have to be. We can help you, we can help you find the peace you’ve always been looking for!

Elle: No! No, I don’t want your platitudes! I want my -

Elle is suddenly stopped by an arrow shot by Mel

Mel: Your life. You want your life. Yeah, we know. But it’s not all about you. And you’re a part of this. So, stay put.

Elle slides to the ground, injured, the arrow in her shoulder

Carmilla: Nice shot!

Mel: I’ve been waiting to do that since we got here

Laura and Carmilla embrace. The circle is reformed, as Elle sits quietly in the background

LaF: So, you’re kinda rocking the fieldwork these days, hunh? Think if we got more admin help, you’d be able to come out more?

Perry: I think I could ... find some time to play.

Charlotte (to Emily): We’re almost free of all this

Emily: You shouldn’t have been drawn into it to begin with.

Charlotte: It was 1872. If we hadn’t been killed by vampires, it would’ve been, I don’t know, tuberculosis?

Laura: Oddly specific

Charlotte: Each day was made better because you tried to make it such. I don’t regret a thing. [to Mel] Thank you for the dance. I wish there could be another, but ...

Mel: I get it. You gotta leave with the one that brung you.

Charlotte: Would you like to ... ?

Mel: Obviously.

Charlotte and Mel kiss. Everyone looks happy for them, except Elle who just looks annoyed by the delay

Elle: Ugh, can we please just move on already?

Perry resumes the spell. Carmilla blows out the candles, all but one.

Someone: Ah, it’s working!

Charlotte and Emily vanish in glowing sparkles, followed by Elle. Then Mel and Kirsch vanish, followed by LaF and Perry, leaving just Laura and Carmilla.

Carmilla: What the hell now?

Laura: I guess with all the ghosts gone, there’s no reason for this place to exist anymore. So ... it worked. Hooray. [looking at Carmilla] Sorry about before. I think I’ve been so focused on chasing after your life cause it seemed a lot easier than trying fixing my own.

Carmilla: Hey, you’re Laura Hollis. [chuckles] And I’ve watched you fight vampires ... and gods and even that lady who tried to butt us in line at the craft fair. [they bloth laugh] So, you’re gonna figure it out. Whatever happens next, we’re gonna do it together.

Carmilla prepares to blow out the remaining candle

Laura: If this goes Romeo and Juliet on us, I’m totally gonna haunt your ass.

Carmilla: Of course you are.

They kiss, and then Carmilla blows out the remaining candle.

They find themselves lying on the floor, sunlight coming, holding hands.

Laura: Well, that was a kick.

Laura’s walkie-talkie beeps

Perry (on walkie talkie): Where are you guys?

LaF (on walkie talkie): Is everyone okay, over?

Laura: Affirmative. Laura and Carm A-OK. Over.

Laura and Carmilla get up

LaF: Front door’s unlocked

Perry: Oh! Meet you outside

LaF: You’re supposed to say over

Perry: Over.

Carmilla: Let’s get the hell out of Styria.

Laura and Carmilla walk out of the schloss, joining the rest. Kirsch hands them their bags.

Kirsch: I call dibs on window!

Montage: Walking down the path, then taking a train, then a plane landing, then back to Toronto. The group is having a picnic, and we see Danny in the background talking to Kirsch. Laura and Carmilla are sharing a bottle of champagne

Carmilla (holding champagne bottle as if microphone): And, how does it feel, Ms. Hollis, to officially be a freelance journalist at large?

Laura: I made a huge mistake! What have I done? I quit my job! I gave up my cubicle! I don’t have a plan! What’m I supposed to do without a plan? [Laura starts laughing, joined by Carmilla] Only about half of that was actual panic, so pretty good, right?

Carmilla: Yeah. I’m just gonna go get some blood, babe.

They kiss. The camera pans over to LaF and Perry, looking at some kidn of electronic device.

LaF: So ... this is a blueprint?

Perry: Yep, these are the blueprints they sent over. And, oh, check this out. They have an industrial-sized cleaning closet, and I was thining we could put your reactor over here in this corner.

LaF: That is a beautiful thing.

Carmilla: Selling out going smoothly?

LaF: Uh, we’re retaining executive control over LaFerry at Intrigue. And they’re giving us a thorium reactor. A thorium reactor!

The camera pans over to Kirsch and Danny

Kirsch: It was really scary.

Danny: It sounds a little cushy.

Kirsch: But it was a totally legit adventure. You know, there were ghosts and this haunted mansion and then, you know, this weird netherworld

Danny: And comfy beds and midnight snacks, and a masquerade ball

Kirsch: Look, I even have that mark where I was ghost-zapped. Look. No, seriously look!

Danny: No, I see it

Kirsch: It’s there, look!

Danny: Okay, I see it, you can put it away now.

The camera pans over to Mel. Laura’s standing by her, with a sympathetic look

Mel: Okay, don’t give me pity eyes, Hollis. Like you never had a crush on a dead girl.

Laura: That does sound familiar.

They touch foreheads

Mel: Thanks

Laura walks over to Carmilla

Laura: So, Carmilla Karnstein, a vampire again. What’s next?

Carmilla: I’m thinking ... maybe my PhD in Philosophy. Hey, attend university for 70-odd years, and you rack up a few credits.

Laura: I’m so proud of you.

Carmilla: You’re not worried about how we’ll spend our lives together?

Laura: I figure any two people in a relationship, their lives move at different speeds. That isn’t the part that matters. This, here, right now. This is what matters. And I love you.

Carmilla: I love you too.

They kiss, and then look at the cityscape together as the credits begin

Credits scenes

Montage of various scenes of Laura reporting from various locations

Laura: I’m Laura Hollis and this is a web exclusive for Creampuffington Post. We’re talking today with veteran dragonslayer Elizabeth Spielsdorf about the great apocalypse of 2015

Laura: Hi, I’m Laura Hollis on assignment in Graz where we’re just in time for the ribbon cutting ceremony on the JP Armitage Memorial Library

Laura: I’m Laura Hollis reporting live from the Geneva Summit on the Rights of Were-People

Laura: I’m Laura Hollis reporting to you live from Iceland where scientists have made a breakgthrough discovery of the first drinkable Fountain of Youth

Laura: A scandal brewing tonight on the steps of the capital as the President, who last month was revealed to be an as-yet unidentified species of lizard creature with very small hands, refuses to produce his long-form hatching certificate. This is senior correspondent Laura Hollis for MSSSN-BCD

Credits roll. Pictures of Laura and Carmilla with a baby

Post-Credits scene

Laura and Carmilla asleep in bed. Carmilla wakes up. She yawns, and gets up, walking to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of hemo-soy. Mattie shows up

Carmilla: Hey, Mattie.

Mattie: Hey, sis.

Carmilla: Why are you ...

Mattie: Back from the underworld and lounging in your charmingly Bohemian pied-a-terre?

Carmilla: For starters.

Mattie: You and I and the little ingénue that could are going on a road trip. Turns out the anglerfish was female. Before it died, it laid eggs. Just an alarming number of eggs.

Carmilla takes a sip of hemo-soy

Carmilla: Alright, let’s get going.

Title card reading “To be continued ...?

#carmilla #carmila movie #this took forever

135 notes · View notes

kokkoro · 6 years

Text

Violet Blue (6/15)

summary: General wolf rules for life: Eat. Rest. Rove in between. Render loyalty. Love the children. Cavil in moonlight. Tune your ears. Attend to the bones. Make love. Howl often. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

being moms is hard, being werewolf moms in the suburbs is even harder. (on ao3)

March.

You know March by its smell. That dense, stale feeling that seems to sit at the back of your throat as the snow melts for what will hopefully be the final time. The earth is soaked, puddles in the yard and the dips of pavement, muddy bits of slush that’s more water than snow--grass flattened and bent.

It makes work difficult. Everything blends together, runs together, and in your line of work it does nothing but make your life miserable. Anya can see it wear you thin. You know by the way she hesitates that fraction of second just outside your office, how she takes stock of your desk and the mess when she enters before glancing at you.

“Cigarette?” she asks.

A part of you recognizes the joke, but you’re too tired to play along. “Now is not the time.”

She digs one out of the pack anyway, sets it unlit between her lips. At least she has the common decency not to test your patience by lighting it. She sits on the arm of the chair in front of your desk instead, crossing her legs. “How long have you been here?”

You don’t answer.

“Harrison can wait, you know.” She takes the cigarette between her index and middle finger, holds it. “He’s cornered. Got nowhere to run and if he does we’ll find him.”

“An animal is at its most dangerous when cornered.” You stare at the file in front of you, the dates and times and places. All carefully compiled and organized, but things start to swim, and you close your eyes for a brief moment before looking up. “The sooner he’s caught the better.”

“And you’ll find him,” anya says. “You’re of no use run dry.” She flicks idly at the cigarette between her fingers, uncrosses her legs. “Go home. Enjoy what’s left of the night with clarke and the kids. We’ll be here tomorrow.”

You find it's difficult to say no to that.

You get back late--close to eleven and mere seconds from dropping everything and falling asleep in the hallway. You put away your jacket, step out of your shoes and set aside your laptop bag and your keys. When you peek into the living room you find clarke with her feet propped on the coffee table, slouched and reading one of your books by the lamp on the end table. She has her fingers in her hair, ruffling away the tension from keeping it up all day. However, the moment she catches sight of you out of the corner of her eye there in the hall her hand drops and she smiles.

“Hey,” Clarke says, and it's quiet and soft. It feels like forever but you make it across the room and to the couch. She tilts up her head and you dip low to kiss her and it takes very little effort on her part to pull you down into her side.

You go willingingly, tucking your face in the crook of her neck with a sigh. You hear her chuckle, the rumble of the contented hum deep in her chest and the rustle as she corners a page of her book and closes it.

“Took you forever,” she says as she brushes the hair gently from your face. She smells like fresh air and the woods and little traces of the kids and all the tension in you seems to disappear.

“I’m sorry,” you say but she shushes you, her lips finding your forehead and pressing there absently.

“You’re going to miss these days when it’s your turn to watch the kids.”

You shake your head. “Never.”

You’re ambushed the moment you walk through the door monday evening, jack first with his tiny growls and you brace for impact as he barrels into you with a grin. You’re quick to place the shopping bag on the little table next to the door, beside the bowl where you toss your keys, before more come rushing around the corner.

“Got you!” he exclaims, voice muffled by your shirt but triumphant all the same. You scoop him up under your arm and then danny too when she tackles your side, lily attaching herself to your leg, and their shrieks of laughter fill the small hallway as you carry them into the kitchen.

“Clarke,” you say a little breathless, attempting to control the wiggling, and she looks up from the kitchen table where she’s sat between madi and aden. They share a book and madi colors on sheets of loose-leaf papers, her little tongue peeking from between her mouth and she doesn’t even bother to look at you. Clarke rests her chin in her hand.

You place jack and danny carefully back on their feet once they stop kicking and then peel lily from your leg. You walk forward and brace your hands on the table, leaning over for a quick kiss that clarke smiles through.

“Welcome home,” she says.

“What did I miss?”

Clarke shakes her head. “Not much.”

You take a seat at the table across from her, volleying attention between jack and lily. You get them all cleaned up for dinner when the timer on the microwave goes off and clarke gets up to take care of the crock pot on the counter. Hands are washed with soap and warm water, but there’s stubborn smudges of marker that refuse to disappear.

You sit down at the table to eat with bowls of stew and a warm loaf of italian bread that melts butter on contact and familiar chatter settles over the kitchen. You cut up small bite-sized pieces of meat and carrots for madi, politely ask jack to chew before speaking, and sneak glances at clarke from across the table. She catches you on several occasions, but you’re not exactly being discreet.

There’s a little bit of after dinner roughhousing that clarke pretends to tolerate, but you see the slope of her lips and the way she watches you. The lot of them pull and tug, little growls and bared teeth, and you’re more than content to let them. that is until a close shave with the coffee table you and clarke only manage to avoid through heightened reflexes alone.

It’s bed after that.

You trace your steps back downstairs after things quiet down, Clarke not too far behind as you make your way to the table by the front door and the bag is right where you left it. You turn around just as she reaches the first floor landing, standing at the bottom of the stairs watching you.

When you’re close enough she reaches for you, her hand curling into your shirt and pulling you closer.

“What’s in the bag?” Clarke says, kissing your cheek.

“A birthday gift for lily.”

“Another?”

“Just something small.” You glance down at the bag and clarke’s lips tilt in a small smile. “It was cute.”

“Let me see,” she says, and you pull out this small pair of overalls. An embroidered daisy sits at the base along one of the suspenders and when you hand the garment over to clarke she traces the design with her thumb.

“No lilies?” she teases.

“Unfortunately out of stock.”

Clarke laughs softly. “It’s cute.”

You lift your shoulder in a shrug. “I thought so, too.”

You remember the little cabin in the woods where lily was born with a bittersweet kind of ache. Far north near the Canada border with its long dirt driveway and dappled sunlight and the strong smell of earth and pine. You and clarke had been together for three years, known each other for longer, and yet on that march 6th four years ago you’d say spring arrived early.

She was named after the lilies you planted every year in the little box underneath the window where the sun hit the side of the house. These large casablanca lilies with their white petals and gentle scent. She was small though, and oddly quiet besides the initial wail and the soft whines that followed, but you remember holding her in your arms for the first time, clarke beside you in bed, and finding yourself unable to hold back the wide teary smile as you watched her settle there.

You miss it sometimes. The crispness of the air and the freshness inherent in it, the ever present briskness you could feel in the spaces between your ribs (the cold clarke complained about but used as a perpetual excuse to be close). The freedom you had, the wide open space. The memories of lily with you in the garden, more a hindrance than help, dirt under her nails and smudged on her face but she smiled often and smiled brightly.

It’s different here, but the laughter is the same. March 6th feels like spring here too as you watch lily sprint about the backyard in her overalls and bare feet, clarke hot on her heels, the sun warm and gradual in its descent. Remnants of blue frosting sticks to lily’s sleeve and you think you see a little bit in her hair and the others fumble about doing their own thing. There’s no more snow, and while the scent of rain lingers, it feels far behind.

You all get back later that night from a run and you find you missed it, being busy with work and all. With the kids you take it slow, they stumble and get sidetracked, following their noses which generally means into trouble. It’s less dangerous here in the small forest behind your suburban house than it was back home, but you know that it's not an excuse to be careless. You might not need to worry about bears and mountain lions and the pups biting off more than they can chew, but people--humans are another kind of monster altogether.

(the kids can pass as small foxes, lost puppies maybe, but you and clarke… to little old Mary and her toy poodle down the street you’re not anything but wolves and wolves don’t wander around the suburbs for long)

You bring up the rear, clarke nosing open the back door and then slipping inside, danny and jack following closely behind her into the hall. Madi gets stuck on the steps, lily and aden darting past and into the house, and when you get close you dip your head and pick her up gently between your teeth, carrying her inside.

It takes you and clarke over half an hour to get everybody clean including yourselves. Afterwards you get extra blankets and pillows from the closet and dump them in a pile onto the floor in front of the couch.

Lily gets to pick the movie and once you have Balto up and running on netflix you sink among the blankets and pillows and get comfortable. There’s clarke at your side, her head on your shoulder and her arm around your waist, and the kids as close to the tv as you’ll allow... You don’t even make it through half the movie before falling asleep.

When you wake up the television is muted and the room is quiet. Some children’s movie plays and the colors flicker and illuminate the otherwise dark living room. You can feel clarke’s nose pressed against your neck and you see madi curled into her side. Lily’s half draped across your stomach and you find you can’t move without disturbing the other tiny bodies asleep spread out in the divots between your legs. You try though, just a little bit--your leg is cramping and you shift. You hear clarke’s soft exhale, feel it along the side of your neck and you know she’s awake.

“You okay?” she mumbles quietly without opening her eyes, and you turn your head to kiss whatever you can reach.

“My leg hurts.”

You watch her lips stretch slowly into a smile, languid. Her fingers fan out over your ribs and you can feel the tenseness in her muscles as she stretches subtly given the space. She settles once she’s satisfied however, clears her throat just so, and you know she’s not moving.

It’s warm and that’s all that matters.

17.

You wonder what the neighbors think when your driveway is packed pull with cars on a warm saturday evening. People of all manner and shapes and sizes pile out in droves and fill your backyard. There’s no music, but there is the sizzle from the grill Gustus claimed the second he arrived (much to Jake’s dismay) and the shouts and chatter of family gathered in the house and backyard. You see lily in glances, streaks of blonde hair and her bubbly laughter, oddly enough enjoying being the center of attention.

Gustus’ grandsons, almost double digits now, include aden in their wild goose chase for bugs near the far edge of the yard near the trees. You watch them near the drooping oak and it's low slung branches, their outstretched hands and dirt smudged knees, and run your fingers over madi’s back and hope you won’t be the one to retrieve them should they get stuck.

“Where’s your wife?”

Maybe you’ll send anya to get them instead.

“She’s inside with abby,” you say, turning to anya who steps beside you in the small little observation spot you sequestered at the edge of the party for the time being. Madi hides her face in your neck, shy, grip tight where her hand is curled into the back of your shirt.

“She still not keen on parties?” anya says, gesturing to madi and you look away with a smile of your own.

You shake your head. You see clarke through the kitchen window with the pitcher of sangria and a bottle of vodka and you quirk a brow when she catches you staring through the glass. She smirks at you, mouthing something you can’t make out and abby nudges her in the side with a roll of her eyes when she notices her daughter’s attention is elsewhere.

You turn back to anya. “I think it’s the noise.”

“Or maybe you spoil her.”

“I spoil them all,” you say, and the blunt honesty at your own expense makes anya laugh.

By eleven o’clock the kids are out like lights in the living room, spread out over floor and the pull out couch in sleeping bags and an abundance of blankets. You and the other adults, however, enjoy the nice night out by the fire pit, the flames tame but nonetheless warm. Clarke sits between your legs holding what must be her fourth glass of wine. Her cheeks are flushed and her skin is warm to the touch where you’ve sneaked a hand under her shirt, keeping her close against you.

Anay nurses a beer, custom brew courtesy of gustus who sits across from you with a mug of his own. He catches your eyes over the lip of his mug and you hide your smile into slope of clarke’s shoulder, shifting your attention to lincoln and, for lack of a better term, his wife. It’s a relatively new development, but more than welcome.

“It’s not too bad,” Clarke says, and you watch the firelight flicker over her cheeks.

“Certainly not ideal,” Abby comments, her hand resting on Jake’s knee. He reclines back in a lawn chair, and you wouldn't be surprised if he was already asleep.

“I never said it was ideal. I said it wasn’t bad,” Clarke replies, voice soft and even, and you feel her relax into you. “It might not be what we’re used to but it’s… it’s nice. A bit small and unusual but nice.” Her face goes a little wistful, how you can see the side of her face as she stares off into the distance. “The pickings are a bit slim though,” she says after a moment, glancing back at you with a tilt of her lips. You can already feel yourself smiling. “I’m sick of squirrels.”

Gustus’ laugh is low and just a tad bubbly. “Little fuckin’ devils,” he says with this rosey grin. Around you snickers are hidden behind hands and only abby manages to quell it well enough to offer a half-hearted ‘language.’

The fire crackles and spits and you kiss the side of clarke’s neck, reveling in the quiet hum you feel under your fingertips.

“Kindergarten?” Abby’s says, and your surprised by how well she handles the news. There’s only the one light on in the kitchen and for the sake of the kids just one room over her voice is soft, but that does little to hide the skepticism.

“Yeah, maybe...” Clarke says with this small shrug, busying herself with filling a few drinks for the adults still outside. She hands one to you to carry and you accept it with a kiss. “I think it would be good for them.”

“A public education?” abby says, looking at you for your opinion. All you do is look back.

“Being around kids their age,” clarke emends. “They know when and where things are appropriate--”

You shoot her a look, endeared. “Clarke.”

“Most of the time,” she’s quick to correct, shaking her head at you. “It’s just something we’re thinking about.”

“Well,” Abby says, and you turn to see the sincerity in her eyes as she breathes in, watching her daughter with something like softness in her eyes. “It’s up to you. You do what you think is right, but you know you can count on me if you need help.”

Clarke’s shoulders slouch with the exhale that escapes her. “I know, mom.”

31.

“I need to get another pair of shoes for jack,” Clarke tells you the following saturday night. Her voice is soft in your ear, her body draped across yours in the comfort of your bed. You like feeling her breathe, stomach to stomach and her scent all around you.

“Aden’s basically grown out of most of his pants,” you add, trying your hardest to stay awake, but it feels like a battle you’re both losing.

“You get out of work early tomorrow?”

You hum an affirmative.

“What do you say about a group trip to the mall?” Clarke asks as she snuggles closer and you chuckle softly at the sensation.

“Sounds like fun to me.”

#clexa #clarke griffin #lexa #werewolf au #okok i'll focus on the rock star au now #just wanted to get this out first

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