#but he doesn’t tell danny he’s not special anymore when he wants a break

[lorimnnn]

Mine pt.3 (Michael Myers x AFAB!Reader)

summary: before Michael was ever ‘The Shape’ of Haddonfield, he was just a boy. he was a boy in love with the girl across the road, his sister’s best friend--- the only girl to show him kindness, love and warmth. you.

Basically, Michael falls in love with his sister’s best friend at 6, who sometimes played emergency babysitter especially when Judith was fooling around with her bf. He clings to those memories growing up in the asylum until the day he breaks out, where he decides the first thing he wants to do is find you and keep you, your sunshine only for him. Reader is super girly and feminine, which just fuels michael’s possessiveness.

cw: gore, violence, kidnapping, obsession, manhandling, possessiveness, non-con themes, not edited :((

welcome back  sowhatariyana  bigcreatorwombatdreamer  cherryxnessa  literalawkwardsimp  bitchyglitterfox  cavern-creature  herwitchbasement  mychemicalimagines  itsjust-menow  nerd-bookworm  fall-myriad  saccharinescalpel  puppiegutz666  pupperony 

pt. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

~

It comes to you when you’re trying to sleep--- the memories.

The memories of Judith. It’s been so long, you don’t even remember what she looks like anymore, and the pictures of the two of you standing next to each other feel like no more than husks of who you used to be. Growing up--- and growing apart, especially--- did that to you. She was your best friend.

But she was becoming less and less worthy of that title the more she hung out with Danny and selfishly indulged in her own desires without a plan or second fuck to give. 

Not that Judith could tell.

You remember getting ready for a party. It was the last one you were going to before your vacation with your mother, and the last one you would ever go to in Haddonfield no less. You were at the vanity.

Judith was on your bed, lying down with her feet kicked up on a pillow. Shoes and everything. That last part made you grit your teeth, but you knew it didn’t matter whether you told her you didn’t like it or not.

You knew it was all because of Danny.

Once her puppy love for him died down, she’d come to her senses and remember how to function like a respectable human being, an older sister, and a better friend. 

You were giving her the benefit of the doubt.

“Ugh!” she groaned. She’d been going on and on for quite a while now, and you didn’t really know what she was talking about. All her complaints seemed to mash together into one, big blur of unpleasantries you couldn’t care less for. “I’m so annoyed.”

“Why?”

“I can’t believe Mom is making me babysit Michael for Halloween.”

You remember humming back at her as you swabbed some lip gloss over your bottom lip. Then you were adjusting your earrings, and eventually your dress--- shorter than usual, celebratory of one, last hurrah. You looked stunning. You turned in your mirror over and over again like some narcissistic egomaniac.

“I was supposed to go out with Danny for Halloween.”

“Mhm.”

“Mom knows this. Why does she keep planning things over my plans? I have a life, too. The world doesn’t revolve around her.”

You’d nodded sympathetically. Inwardly, you’d rolled your eyes.

“I’m so jealous of you, you know.”

That caught your attention. You looked at her hesitantly.

“Why?”

“You’re going on vacation.”

“You’ll miss me?”

Judith sighed exasperatedly. “Your babysitting skills, yeah.”

Ah. There it was.

You turned back to your vanity and checked your reflection one, more time.

“Let’s go, yeah?”

Judith jumped up. She was still moaning and groaning, but this time you ignored her as you drove to the party, cranking up the radio over her voice. You weren’t supposed to be driving, not really, but there was a special perk to looking like a senior when you were still a freshman, one that your parents didn’t care much to rectify as long as you returned their baby without a scratch.

 Judith began to shout at you. You’d ignored her still.

And then she grabbed your arm and yanked on it for your attention, causing you to swerve. You had lightning fast reflexes though, and too much self-respect to be too shocked at her actions. You still had lightning-fast reflexes. 

Your self-respect? Not so much.

You remembered your last words to Judith as you stomped on the break and turned into the side of the road. You waited for her to stop shouting, and then you looked at her, pointed to the sidewalk, and glared.

“Get out. Get Danny to drive you, or walk for all I care. You suck, Judith.”

And when she didn’t get out, still screeching nonsensically at you, you snapped. You got out yourself and dragged her out. Oh, yes. Kicking and screaming and everything. You shoved her so hard, she tore open her knee on a rock as she fell.

You didn’t turn back once.

You drove off.

That had been the last time you saw Judith. The last time you saw your best friend.

Somehow, you still failed to regret it, even to this day.

---

Michael didn’t come back the next day, but that wouldn’t been silly, anyway. The police were all around your house, maybe guarding it--- but you knew better. Your house was a trap. 

And you were the bait.

“I just don’t understand why he let you live,” one detective had muttered. “He never lets any of them live.”

You’d shrugged. You weren’t too emotional about it, but then again, you were still denying any of it ever happened.

Michael Myers is a serial killer, not a rapist. 

But that night, it had been crystal clear that he hadn’t meant to kill you. And he wasn’t going to, if he usually followed a pattern. This irregular, jarring disturbance was a new trail to follow into the unknown. It sparked fear in Haddonfield. 

None of them thought it could get any worse than this.

Well, neither did you. If it wasn’t already bad having your house flooded with cops and journalists, the top priority of every authority’s watchlist, a council-approved ban from leaving your house and the unspoken promise of another visit from a serial killer discovering his cock for the first time, then maybe the constant, bone-chilling feeling of being watched following you through every moment was enough to drive you insane.

Or maybe it was the man claiming to be Myers’ psychologist insisting to talk to you every day, even though you denied him each time. 

“Please, Miss L/N.”

“Please what, old man?” You mumble through the keyhole. “You’re going to have to beg prettier than that.”

You hear one of the cops stationed at your porch stifle his laughter behind a cough. You smirk.

“This is no time for games, Miss L/N.”

“And this is no time to be harassing me for the fifth time this week. I can literally get a restraining order; won’t that be fun?”

“Michael is a dangerous-”

“Blah blah blah. You’re forgetting that speech won’t work on me. I’ve already maxed out the danger, Mr Loomis. So kindly fuck off unless you can say something useful, like maybe: ‘Oh, Miss L/N! I have a coffee for you’ or maybe even ‘I know how to get the ban off you!’, or, my personal favourite: ‘I can promise Michael won’t fucking destroy your next one-night-stand!’“

Doctor Loomis goes quiet.

The cop chokes again, and you open the door that tiniest bit to grin at him in the face.

“You know, if I was sure I wouldn’t be putting you on a hit list, you’d probably be warming my bed right now.” You wink. You really hope you aren’t pushing it, but who knows--- he left before the two of you could discuss the rules of this demented little game. “You’re real cute, you know. And if your face is like that, I wonder what the rest of you’s like.”

The young cop is just a rookie. There isn’t any real suave to him yet, no kinky cop fantasies. Or maybe all of the kinky cop fantasies, if he was really that fresh off the boat. That’s hot. You like the one’s with no ego.

Usually that goes hand in hand with no experience, unfortunately. You’ve unintentionally established yourself as a cougar.

The cop’s entire face descends into a deep crimson, and it spreads down to his neck. His hands. You follow it down his uniform and back up.

Doctor Loomis clears his throat. “Miss L/N, please.”

You laugh. “That’s the spirit. Aren’t you a bit too old for this?”

Doctor Loomis sputters.

You laugh harder.

Then you close the door again. 

Outside the door, you hear the cop trying to hustle him away. But Loomis won’t be deterred, and you hear the thud of him throwing himself against the door for one, last time.

“I researched you, Miss L/N!” He yells, voice strained. “I know your history, and let me tell you now, any connection you think you may have with him is futile! He is insane! He is pure evil!”

You don’t answer.

You do, however, thrust your middle finger towards the door like he can see it, because you feel strangely unjustified on Michael’s behalf. Isn’t the whole ideal of being someone’s psychologist to tell people that they aren’t insane?

You don’t know much about Michael.

But if he’s been stuck with this big oaf all his life, then maybe he wasn’t a born monster.

Maybe he was created instead.

You kick the door where you imagine Loomis’ crotch would be as you hear him get dragged away.

---

Later that night, you wake to a thud at your porch. You instantly know it’s the cop. This time, you don’t even deny it. Maybe now he’s here to finish the job.

Maybe now he realised his mistake.

You sink further into the sheets and pull your blanket over your head the way you used to when you were a kid, scared of the dark. It’s ironic, really. How could someone shut their eyes, inviting themselves to pure darkness, yet be afraid of it in the world around them?

They’re the same thing.

Yet one is controlled--- and one is not. 

Darkness controlled...

You spare yourself a short moment to mourn that cop outside. He’d been so cute. So eager and dutiful, and also so distracted every time you stepped out just to check your mailbox. Didn’t matter whether you stepped out in a robe or something completely un-sexy. He was enamoured. That had been nice. 

It’s always nice to feel adored.

You hear the doorknob rattle, and you curl into a ball. 

He’s really fucking there.

You know you don’t have enough time to run and grab the phone. Maybe that would only provoke him. But would you really rather stay alive when you were doomed to his plot?

The detective didn’t know why you were still alive, and frankly, neither did you. Old babysitter or not, he had no reason to keep you around.

You didn’t understand it.

The door swung open.

The floorboards creaked beneath his weight, the sounds sharp and cutting against the silent, chilly air. It feels so tense.

You’re so scared.

You battle with your urges to save your skin. It’s all purely instinctual, all impulsive and illogical, but it doesn’t stop you from considering whether or not you still had time to run. Maybe crash through your bedroom window and pound down the doors of your neighbors until someone let you in.

But you know this town, even though it had been so, so long.

You know this town just like they know Michael, and because of that, they were never going to let you in. 

Your bedroom door finally opens. You hold your breath.

You can hear him, now--- his breathing shallow, labored, his footsteps wet and squelching against the floorboards. You hope it isn’t blood. 

But what else could it be?

Don’t cry.

Don’t run.

A large, meaty hand fists the blankets, tugging them away from you. Or trying. Your flight or fight instinct kicks in, and you’d already rejected flight. You wrestled with him to keep it over your head, but it was no use. He was too strong.

It’s almost supernatural, how strong he is. 

He rips the blanket away from you and you gasp, your nails burning. You scramble towards the corner of your bed as he watches you through the holes of his mask, those unseeing eyes, merely shadows cast over where his sight should be detailed, observing you too closely. 

He sees everything.

The heaviness of his breathing doubles, and you dig your burning fingers in to your mattress. 

The adrenaline snuffs out your fear, but not by much. You still tremble. You still manage to hold your chin up as you glare at him.

“Well?”

He’s silent, a solitary statue. 

You refuse to scream. You should, but you won’t. You know better than to try. 

“Don’t just fucking stand there like a creep,” you snap. “Do something. Play your part. Don’t be confusing; it doesn’t suit you.”

Almost on cue, he raises his knife above his head. Your force yourself to keep your eyes open, gritting your teeth against the fear.

Nothing.

Nothing happens.

It infuriates you more than it scares you, and on an enraged impulse, you snatch the pillow off your bed and launch it at him. It hits him square in the face. 

He doesn’t even the flinch.

It falls to the ground and you both look at it, pathetic. You even have the gall to be embarrassed about it. 

“Don’t just stare at it...”

His head snaps up. He looks at you.

Your hackles raise, and he advances, landing with one knee on the bed as he crawls towards you, one hand outstretches as it descends on your ankle. You screech and scramble back, falling. It doesn’t hurt. You squeal anyway, purely out of fear, and back away from him--- into your old vanity. 

Memories.

It hits you like a train, and the parralell is almost funny, if not entirely, terrifyingly ironic. You, at your vanity, touching up your makeup. Michael staring at you, starry-eyed and wondrous.

“You’re a princess,” he used to say when you’d teasingly ask him how you looked. He used to be so cute.

Now he’s a man, and he’s a serial killer, and he’s sitting in the same position he used to as a kid but he’s not a kid. He has a knife in his hand, one that’s wet with the blood of the cop outside, and it’s going to go into you, soon, if you’re not careful. 

Michael follows you on to the floor. You throw your hands over your head and he catches your wrists, and as he fits himself between your legs, it suddenly occurs to you what he’s trying to do.

No.

No no no-

NO-

You fight him, elbowing him in the cheek. It does nothing. He contiues to press his weight against you until there’s nowhere to go, until he’s so hard you can feel him stabbing into your core, demanding entrance through his mechanic’s overalls. 

This time, you scream.

But it’s just as you expected. He bends his arm, your wrist still in his hand, and muffles the noise against his forearm. You bit him, you try anything.

But he’s relentless.

You’re better off subjecting yourself to his torment. 

Terrified, you shut your eyes. You fall limp, hoping that your compliance will end this quicker, that your obedience might persuade him to hurt you less--- but he doesn’t hurt you at all. 

He lays down between your legs, head on your chest, and shoves your hands into his hair.

You have no idea what he’s trying to do and don’t really care... That is, until you feel the tip of his knife poking you between the ribs. You rack your brain and think.

Think. 

And then you remember.

The two of you, curled up on your couch, watching TV, just like this. And despite yourself, you laugh. You laugh hard.

“You hunt me down for this?”

Michael doesn’t answer.

“You’re so fucking weird,” you sigh. “I don’t get you.”

You suppose this is better than whatever you thought he was going to do with you in the beginning. A lot better. Even if it makes no sense. But if it saves your skin, you’ll do anything.

You’ll even graze your nails at his scalp the way you used to .

Something of a purr vibrates in his chest. 

You relax, if only slightly. 

But you don’t fall asleep, even when he does. A sleeping beast, content in your arms, almost peaceful, almost tamed. 

But the knife, still fisted in his grip like a comfort-toy, stays there to scare you. 

But something tells you he won’t use it.

So long as you obey.

---

Michael is celebrating.

Finally.

Fucking finally. 

He has you.

But the next step is to keep you--- and make sure that you know one thing.

You’re his.

Mine.

And you’re coming with him to his childhood home, where he’ll keep you forever, just him and you... You want him, don’t you?

You want him now.

You wanted him then.

Maybe not as much as he wants you, twice as much now than he did as a child, but that’s easily rectified. You’ll learn.

You’re already learning now. 

~

Did I make it worth the wait?

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Also, would you guys be interested in an ao3 story where I turned these into proper chapters?

#Michael Myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #halloween #slasher #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #Slashers

[anntoldst0ries]

shinrin-yoku (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.7k, PG Summary: When life's difficulties hit, Noelle navigates her way through them by turning to the nature. Category: Hurt & Comfort Warnings: mentions of trauma

A/N: May is a Mental Health Awareness month and here in the UK the theme is nature. My MC, just like me, runs to the woods when things get tough. It helps her clear her head and reconnect with inner strength.

I struggle with mental health myself and it’s important for me to speak up and address the subject. There is nothing worse than shaming or discrediting someone’s difficult feelings. It’s fine not to be fine.

If you struggle alone, please don’t. My inbox will welcome you with open arms. Two heads are better than one, even if we just complain, at least we can complain together 💜

For @choicesmaychallenge2021 Day 13 - Mental Health

SHINRIN-YOKU - A Japanese term for ‘forest bathing’ or the sense of well-being you experience while in nature.

~~

It all starts with a seed. This tiny element which, without aid, is sentenced to certain death. But give it the right soil. Give it water, sun. And it can grow. Into something big. Powerful. Scary.

~~

She is five years old.

They live in a townhouse, a classy Victorian era building. Undistinguished, one of many merging into the background of a typical London street. The colors are also very standard,  dirty white married to ivory beige, bar for the deep green door - their rebel child.

For the random passerby, it’s nothing special. But for her, the walls of a storey house encapsulate the whole world.

The garden behind the house is neat and clean, visibly well taken care of. She doesn’t remember exact details anymore, but she remembers begging her parents to go camping in the garden with her brother. The ticklish feeling of long and slim blades of grass on her tiny feet. Looking at the stars with pure awe and delight, that only the unspoiled mind of a child is capable of.

The plot of land that the house has been built on borders a beautiful forest. A wooden fence separates the two.

To her, it’s a passage to a magical world.

A world without any particular order, living its own life, unconstricted by rules. Not in the slightest does it resemble the garden on her side of the fence, where things grow according to the rules laid out by the adults.

There is a feeling inside her that she’s too young to name, to throw it in lingual context. It’s not until years later that she realized what it had been. Freedom. To grow however you please. To be what you want to be.

Robust, effuse trees tower over her, making her feel so small. As if she hasn’t already been feeling small enough, living in a world full of giants.

But they mean something else too. They bring a secret and a promise. Promise of a bigger world out there, far from the confines of the place she calls home.

The forest draws her, singing a melody that only her heart can understand. One day, she will be a part of it.

~~

She lives the teenage dream life.

That’s what everyone says.

She doesn’t have any real problems. She’s lucky not having to worry about money. She’s got friends. Her family is great. She just needs to stop whining. Her life is perfect.

Their words, not hers.

None of them know what happens behind closed doors.

The childhood forest is a cloudy memory. Her home is now thousands of miles away, in a city with a giant red bridge, which for some bizarre reason has ‘golden’ in its name.

But the call from nature doesn’t care about distance. It can find you about anywhere. It’s different and yet the same.

Because nature beats in one rhythm and speaks in the same language, everywhere.

The morning is chilly and humid. She’s wearing a wooly coat, carelessly threw on a pair of PJs hiding underneath.

Her steps are brisk, breathing short and heartbeat elevated. Something’s bothering her blanched face.

The voice, again.

When it first appeared, she thought it had her best interest at heart. Used to give her advice and like a good friend, ream her out when she did something bad.

Over time, things took a turn for the worse.

Snarky comments. Casually mentioned wrongdoings. Feedback on what she could have done better, differently.

Noelle hoped the voice would go away on its own.

It hasn’t.

Not only did the voice not go away, but it was actually growing stronger with each passing day. Became more vocal. Judgmental. Openly hostile.

It fed on her fears.

It’s your fault - it told her - that your parents are getting divorced.

You are not good enough.

Even a lie, repeated enough times, will finally become the truth. And so it did for her, to the point where she couldn’t distinguish her own voice from the voice of the tormentor. Sounds faded into one.

Whoever said words can cut like a knife was right. But those who knew thoughts could leave scars that are much deeper, were truly wise.

The young, beautiful girl who never hurt a soul, became a hostage. A prisoner locked in the jail of her own head.

A giant tear rolled down her face. Made of all the words her heart couldn’t say.

She hugged the tree tightly and inhaled the woodsy aroma, the scent filling her lungs fully.

It’s sensuous.

Just like that, she is small again.

~

She’s got all that she ever wanted.

Degree from one of the best medical schools. Graduating with honors and glowing recommendations from even the strictest professors, who kept assuring her that her future in medicine is so bright it’s actually blinding. Then, a dreamy residency in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country.

Pretty impressive, right? Even a fool could see that. But the only fool whose opinion she cared about, couldn’t. All these things were clearly not good enough for Ethan Ramsey to stay.

She wasn’t good enough for him to stay.

Not longer than a year ago he was just a concept, an ideal without a face, body and voice. To her, he was a celebrity, a hero, someone whom mortals don’t have access to.

It was preposterous to consider for even a second Dr Ramsey could actually see something in an intern.

Standing among the moss-covered trees, every fiber of her being was filled with the thought of him.

Did the Amazonian forest remind him of her, just like every forest around reminded her of him?

Just when she won the battle for her career, she lost another. Because life had to be a zero-sum game.

As painful as that would have been, she wished she had something to hold onto. A scene she could replay in her mind. An image of him walking away. Or saying goodbye.

But he left without a word.

That was the pattern. That was history repeating itself.

She took her shoes off and stepped on the soil frosted with morning dew. It’s cold and wet. It’s refreshing. She is grounding. Reconnecting with Earth.

Tunes in with the rivers of grass, towers of trees, fences of bushes.

If the trees could speak, they’d tell stories not many people would believe in.

Tales of heartbreaks. Parables of spirits.

They are all nature’s poems.

Hauntingly beautiful. Riveting. Written without a single word.

Because nature speaks its very own language that only the soul, not the mind, can understand.

Pain is ripping her apart. But it reminds her that she’s alive. And this, in itself, is a miracle.

~~

She doesn’t know who she is anymore.

Some people call her a survivor. But it doesn’t feel like the right word. So many things in her died. So much was lost.

The attack took a lot from her. Danny. Bobby. Sense of security. Identity. Direction.

Right and wrong, good and bad, righteous and vicious. These are all just words. Someone needs to come and teach her the meaning of them anew. Draw lines, mark out frontiers. Save her from herself.

The ground is soaked. Torrential rain turned the soil into soft mud, warm and easily slipping through her fingers. She falls on her knees, praying for the ground to consume her.

Fill every part of her. Silence the internal cacophony. To sink into oblivion.

Not many people knew about the panic attacks and recurring nightmares. They’re always the same.

She’s standing in the middle of a swamp. Danny and Bobby are drowning, their arms reaching out for her. She knows she can only save one of them. She runs out of time trying to figure out how to save both. As a result, they both die. Time stands still and yet everything is spinning, moving, racing. The reality is a riot of overbright colours.

Suddenly, a ring breaks the silence. A polyphonic intruder. She looks at the screen through hooded eyes and notices the caller’s name. It’s him. He’s petrified. Worried to death. Asks her to stay where she is.

Some time later, maybe 10 minutes, maybe an hour - who knows? - he emerges from the gathering of stocky oaks.

The moment he catches the sight of her, he starts running. She notices a lab coat underneath the jacket. He’s soaking wet.

Even though he is so close, he doesn’t slow down. Crashing into her, he scoops her in his arms. Catches her in the tightest of embraces.

Asks her if she’s fine. No. Not that question again. She’s tired of people fussing over her and gets angry.

Had it not been for the attack, would he even be here? The voice asks mockingly. It doesn’t matter to her. He’s there now.

Deep baritone is gentle and full of concern. It’s not like that. It’s not his intention to fuss. He’s simply worried. Because she is the most important thing to him in the whole world. Yes, he wasted so much time. That’s why he refuses to lose even one more second.

A dam breaks within her. Eliciting a quiet sob. She clutches his shirt, holds onto him for dear life. Moments later, she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Singing her poignant birdsong.

How is she supposed to cope? Will things ever go back to normal? What is normal anyway?

In the confines of the infamous patient room she never felt more scared in her life. But here, out in the open, she feels so safe. As if she’s had a silent agreement with nature, which vouched to protect her at all costs.

And this time, nature had an ally. Because Ethan will protect her, even if it’s the last thing he does. Holding onto each other, they stand in the nothingness.

It keeps them grounded. Connected to their roots. Turning over new leaves. Bending before they break. Growing.

They get lost. Mother Nature has a reward for those who do. They have a chance to find themselves. Over and over again.

~~~

If you made it this far - thank you & you're awesome 🥰

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#open heart #Ethan Ramsey x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #mental health awareness

[medicallyinevitable]

Medically Inevitable 

Chapter 14:- Pitiful Pining

Characters:- Ethan Ramsey, Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Ethan Ramsey, Harper Emery, & Danny Cardinal 

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine (F!OC)

Warnings:- Light angst & minor language 

Word Count:- 2000+ words 

And a special thank you to @akshara16 for pre-reading this chapter💞

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re reading your 18th, well actually what seems like the 100th text book when someone knocks on your bedroom door. You answer with a more irritated tone then you meant.

"Hey, you okay?" The door opens to reveal Sienna with two mugs in her hands.

"Yeah...”, you try to smile but even you know it doesn't quite reach your eyes. 

"You don't seem okay though," Sienna says as she comes inside and hands you a mug. You look inside the mug to see what's in it. "I made us some hot chocolate." 

You smile, accepting your cup with a genuine thank you as you move, making space for Sienna to sit. 

"So what is it?" Sienna asks sitting beside you. 

You shake your head, just thinking about the case makes your head spin. "Just a patient’s case. I’ve been running test after test but every result was negative.", you sigh, "and the patient happens to be a major asshole to say the least.", You smile sadly. 

"Is it the P. I. T. A?" She asks. 

"P. I. T. A?" 

"Pain in the ass," she laughs, so do I. 

"Oh yeah… Danny mentioned that earlier. That name fits him perfectly!" I respond laughing. 

"So what do you think he has?"

"I don't know anymore," you sigh again, "I ran almost as many tests as possible." 

"I'm not any expert but maybe if the two of us try to find it, it'll be easier?" 

You look at her a bit surprised, "You'll spend your free time diagnosing my patient?" 

She smiles at me, "Of course. That's what friends are for right? To help you." 

You look at her with a grateful smile. "Thank you." 

"You can thank me with strawberry glazed doughnuts once we're finished with this.”, she replies with a silly wink.

"Deal." 

You spent the next thirty minutes discussing the symptoms as you catch her up with the diseases you've managed to ruled out. 

In between, you notice Sienna acting a bit weird. But whenever you try to bring it up, she deflects your question so you decide not to press further. 

Another half an hour goes by with Sienna’s weird antics and you decide you’ve had enough. You close your book and turn towards Sienna. She tries to act like she doesn’t notice you looking at her but eventually she looks up.

"What is it, Sienna? I can tell you want to ask me something but you’re not.”, you say.

"Uh-what?" she asks nervously, her eyes darting around everywhere but you.

"I don't know what you’re talking about." 

"Don't lie, Si!," you narrow your eyes. 

But she doesn’t budge. You keep asking her until she finally accepts.

“Come on Si, no secrets between us right?”

"Okay fine!... you’re hiding something, Ari,", shesays catching you off guard. 

"I-Me? I'm not hiding anything," you try to laugh it off. 

Now it's her turn to narrow her eyes. "You are! See, you’re behaving really weird."

"I'm not behaving weird," you oppose. 

"You are. And don't you dare deny it again.”, she says in a serious tone.

"You can talk to me, you know that right?” Her voice changes to the caring and concerned tone reserved for her closest friends.

You ponder for a minute, whether or not to tell her. You’ve shared so many secrets with Sienna before, you know she's your best friend and that you trust her completely. 

Before you know it, you start blurting out everything. From how Dr. Ramsey assigned you the case, to how he wouldn’t reassign him to someone else, and then your confrontation which was probably the most idiotic thing you could have done. Then how you both shouted at each other, you completely blanking out at the fact that he was your supervisor and could pull you from the program the next second if he wished, and how that lead to triggering a panic attack, then lastly…

“I don’t know how, our faces were mere inches apart, breathing ragged, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing-“ You throw your hands up, cutting yourself off as you jump up and pace around the room.

“I mean I could have kissed him for God’s sake! What was I even thinking?! If it weren’t for my pager I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

“Woah, calm down Arielle. You need a break.” She makes you sit down and drink a glass of water, waiting until you’ve calmed down a bit. 

“Now, tell me what else happened.”

“What?! Nothing else happened!” How Sienna knows you so well eludes you, nonetheless you try to hide it.

“Something else happened, or else you wouldn’t be spiraling this much. I know you Ari, you always have a cool head under any circumstance.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use in hiding it. “Well I did see something…”

“Go on.”, she says urging you,

“Well it all started after the whole almost kiss thing, my brain was like scrambled eggs and my shift had already ended so I took my car and drove around until I realised I had no idea where I was, and to top that disaster off I was starving…”

———————A few hours before———————

“Ugh, I think I drove all the way to the other side of town. And I’ll have to drive all the way back to the apartment and then start research for Nigel’s treatment again. And I’m hungry because instead of eating lunch, I decided to unleash my wrath of Dr. Terminator. Ohh, can this day get any worse-“ In the midst of your little blabbering session, you spot a classy French cafe across the street. 

“Well at least a day this bad always has room for improvement, and right now I’m starving.”, you park your car and head inside.

The smell of roasted coffee and baked buttery goods hits your senses the moment you enter the cafe. The serenity is a nice change of pace compared to always busy and bustling Edenbrook, dimly lighted and decorated with beautiful vintage items.

“At least I won’t bump into anyone here that I know.”, you think as you stand in the queue.

You decide to order a vanilla frappe with drizzled salted caramel and go for a regular chocolate doughnut to satisfy your sweet tooth. After the barista brings your order, you move towards a nice secluded corner and sit down at the table.

You slowly finish your doughnut and coffee, savouring the taste as you gaze out the French style window. You’re about to dispose of your trash when a familiar sweater shirt catches your eye.

“No way…” As you hide your face with a medical journal which you randomly fished out of your purse, you peek over the top to see Dr. Ramsey sitting across…

“Is that Dr. Emery?”, your mind recalls the time when you saw them in a patient’s room, quite cozy with each other. And now they sit a few tables away from you, talking as her hand is over his. You pretend to read your journal as you watch both of the doctors get up and throw away the remains. You follow pursuit and slowly exit the cafe making sure they don’t notice. You stand at the side of your car door and watch as they both edge closer and closer, her hand now on his jaw. Their faces are barely an inch apart now, as he leans in to close the distance.

“That’s- I can’t-“ 

Not being able to look at them, you get in your car, slamming the door and speed away as fast as you possibly can, ignoring the tears that brim in your eyes.

————————end of flashback———————

”Oh Arielle…..I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.”, you assure her when pretty much everything going on in your life is anything but alright. She gives you a look.

“I- okay well there’s nothing I can do about it, and it’s not like anything would have happened, it was merely a stupid crush.”, you reply wondering whether you’re trying to convince Sienna or yourself. A long but comfortable silence passes, you both just sit and immerse in everything you’ve just blurted out. 

"How are things between you and Wayne?", you say desperate for a topic change.

"It's as usual I guess?" she says now as gloomy as me. "We haven't had a proper conversation in a while."

You try to comfort your best friend as you mentally curse the idiot.

"He's an idiot, Si, " you tell her. "If he can't value you, he's not worth it Si."

"He was not always this way you know... We've had happy days. But ever since I started my residency he became... distant." 

You put your hand on top of hers in a comforting manner and give her an understanding smile.

"You can always talk to me about it, Si. You know that right?"

She nods and shoots me a smile, a sad one, nonetheless a smile. That’s a slight improvement.

We talk about our messes of relationships for a bit more before Sienna decides we had enough gloom and doom and it was time to make some happy memories. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”, you ask.

A grin forms on her face as she tucks her knees in and speaks, "Why did the Dalmatian go to the eye doctor?" 

“Medical joke hmm?” She nods and nudges me to try to answer. After thinking for a moment, I shrug.

"Because he kept seeing spots.", she says following with a fit of laughter. The joke isn’t even that funny but even you end up laughing your heart out. That's the thing with best friends, everything becomes a thousand times better when they’re by your side.

"Oh-" Sienna tries to say recovering from her previous laughter session, "There's another one."

"What did one tonsil say to the other tonsil?" 

"Umm...What?" you ask when you fail to find an answer.

"Get dressed up, the doctor is taking us out!" We both break into another fit of laughter, laughing till tears form in the corner of your eyes.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still smiling broadly.

Your own reflection catches your eye in the mirror. Your balayage hair is now slowly falling out from the messy bun you tied up before, your eyes now have bags in addition to your dark circles and lastly you look like a zombie with your smeared makeup.

“I look like a hot mess.”

Sienna laughs. “Well I have a night shift today so I’ll look worse than you after it.

You join her in another wave of laughter until Sienna’s phone goes off from her room.

You watch her as her eyes light up and then morph into worry as she looks at herself. You give her a look.

“Oh uh… Danny said that he would give me a lift to my shift and stop by to get coffee.”, she shouts as she rushes into her room. You chuckle watching her frantically trying to make herself presentable as she grabs her bag and heads downstairs.

“Bye Si! I’ll see you later-“ She’s already run off. With a smile, you head towards your room for a bath, dinner and then a date with more textbooks.

************************************************************

Authors’ Note:- Hey everyone, Chapter 14 of Medically Inevitable is finally out! We know that the release was scheduled much much earlier but life happens unfortunately and it took us quite a long time but from now on, our regular schedule will continue again!

Anyways, let us know if you enjoyed this chapter and your predictions of what will happen next! Are Harper and Ethan really a couple? And if they are, why did Ethan almost kiss Arielle? And what’s happening with Danny and Sienna? As always, it means a lot to us if you comment and reblog and have a great day/night everyone!

Love,

    @drariellevalentine & @mysticaurathings

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[rhys-writes-sometimes]

Music Worth Making Part 6: Finally Free

Requested: yes actually lol

Warnings: Luke’s birthday is in this chapter, so sadness, but I think that’s it (other than bad writing of course)

Series Summery: When the reader’s life is ripped away from them, they’re distraught. But with her two best friends and three certain ghosts, maybe the afterlife isn’t so bad after all. 

Chapter Summery: You and the band play at your first gig.

Word Count: 3,233

A/N: Aaaa I’m so sorry this took so long! I was in a bit of a writing slump, and then school started. Also, I was trying really hard not to cry writing Luke’s birthday scene, so I have no idea how I’m gonna get through Unsaid Emily. Anyway yeah I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________

“How can we die if we’re already dead?” Luke asked, locking eyes with you.

After what happened in the gym last night, you decided you needed a little time alone, to process everything. Whatever it was had scared you, badly. 

You poofed into the Molina’s guest room, where Danny was staying. Wincing when you landed on your bad foot, you limped over to the window seat and sat, looking out at the street below. It was such a neighborhood. It was hard to believe that anything bad could happen here.

And yet, it had.

You gasped as the memory of the club came rushing back to you. Not the fun you had, but before that. Seeing the man who had killed you floating above the table. The Club had somehow made you forget that your host was a murderer. 

Sometime around 9 am, you decided to go check on the boys. They had been hit with the jolt too, after all.

“Y/N!” Reggie called out as you appeared in the studio.

“Where’d you go last night?” Luke asked from his chair. 

“I just needed some time to think.”

Luke nodded once, knowing from your tone not to pry.  “Uh, hey, we were gonna go to a cafe, you wanna come?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah sure. Sounds fun.”

Luke narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion, but grabbed your hand and teleported to the cafe. 

-----

“Oh, great angle, yeah,” Reggie said as the lady snapped a picture of her food. For some reason, you, Alex, and Reggie were all sitting with this lady while Luke was standing at the counter. 

“Is this what we’re here for?” Alex asked, his voice showing that he was regretting all of his life decisions. “To watch people take pictures of food?”

“It’s fun!” Reggie defended himself. “Watch this, people never stop looking at their phones.” He began to move the woman’s food around the table. She looked around in confusion before leaving the cafe. The three of you chuckled. 

“Plus, Luke said something about this place being a hot spot for music industry people.”

“Boys!” Luke said, sitting down in the chair the lady had just left. He glanced at you before continuing: “and, uh, Y/N, being a ghost definitely has it’s privileges. I just wrote our names on the playlist for tonight.”

“I’m getting a little worried about him,” Alex said, speaking to you but loudly enough so that the others could hear him. “He keeps forgetting that Julie quit the band.”

“And that she’s gonna come back!” Luke protested. “Just as soon as she knows we have a great gig.”

You bit your lip. You knew how stubborn Julie was, and she was pretty mad at the boys.

“But if she doesn’t come back, let's not forget we do have somewhere else we can play,” Reggie said, noticing the look on your face. “And eat pizza.”

“Dude, I know, it was awesome to be seen by lifers at Caleb’s party-” you flinched. “-but we got this with Julie. We don’t need him.”

Pain flared through your body again, almost making you fall out of your seat. It was getting worse; it felt like being stabbed again.

“It’s that same thing again,” Alex said, rubbing his side.

“Just like yesterday!” Luke added. 

“It feels like that time I was fixing my amp in the rain,” Reggie said. You stared at him.

“You shouldn’t… okay,” Alex started, giving up. 

“Look, do you think something’s wrong with us?” you asked, to no one in particular. 

“Yeah, yeah, we ate 10 pounds of pizza yesterday without a stomach. I’m sure it’s just our bodies working through it,” Luke said, although there was a hint of worry in his voice. 

“So we’re just gonna forget about getting back at Trevor?” Reggie said, desperate to change the subject. “That jerk stole our music!”

“And he has to live with that guilt. It’s like what Julie said, we have a new band, a new sound, okay? That’s what we should be focusing on.” Luke leaned back in his chair, looking at the three of you. 

Alex suddenly sat up straighter. “Isn’t that Willie?” he said, walking out the door. 

Reggie smirked. “Well, someone’s not focusing on our music.” You gave a small laugh. 

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” Luke said, leaning over the table towards you. 

“Oh, oh yeah, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now,” you said, giving him a small smile. 

He leaned back in his chair, chewing his lip. He knew you weren’t being completely honest, but he didn’t push it. 

-----

“We’re sorry

So sorry

We’re super-duper, crazy stupid

Sorry!”

The boys sang as Julie walked into the studio.

“In case you missed it, we’re all really sorry,” you said, walking over to her. 

“Yeah, I… I got that part.”

“We’ve been here for like, three hours,” Alex said, high-fiving Reggie.

“We almost sang to your little brother.”

“He comes in here a lot. Mainly to use the bathroom.”

“It’s not our favorite part of the day,” Alex whispered. 

“But, Julie, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance last night,” Luke said, getting the group back on topic. 

“We know we let you down,” you said, moving to stand with the boys. 

“And none of us wanted to disappoint you,” Alex said quickly. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts.”

“So, in hopes that you’ll rejoin the band, we booked a new gig,” Luke said, nervously handing Julie the flyer.

“A mega important, life-changing gig,” Reggie smiled. 

“Oh, okay, check it out. Tons of managers go here to listen to new bands. All we gotta do is blow them all away, and we’re living the dream.”

“So, this means a lot to you, huh?” Julie said coldly. “Kind of like how playing in front of my entire school meant a lot to me.”

“Sounds like sarcasm… I’m starting to think our plan isn’t working,” Reggie muttered to you and Alex. 

“Look, we know we messed up,” Alex started. 

“But, we need you in the band,” Luke finished. 

“Of course you do. Because without me, no one can see you guys playing.” You looked at the ground in shame as Julie spoke. “You know, I thought that the music we were writing was special, but you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”

“I do care!” Luke protested. “Our band has a real chance at greatness, and I’m not gonna let that get away from us again!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So then why did you bail on me to get back at Trevor? I’ll tell you why. ‘Cause there’s only one thing you care about, Luke Patterson, and that’s yourself.”

She turned and stormed out of the garage. “Y/N, are you coming?” she called out. You glanced at the boys apologetically before following your best friend. 

-----

Julie sat on the couch, quietly scribbling down answers to her math homework. You sat in the chair next to her, sketching on a piece of paper you had found. 

“You uh, you got a second?” Alex asked as the boys poofed in. Julie ignored them, turning on the couch so they wouldn’t be in front of her. You stared at the paper you were holding. 

“Oh my gosh, she can’t see us anymore!” Reggie exclaimed. Alex gave him a look; Reggie muttered “oh.”

Alex sat on the arm of the couch. “Julie, please.”

“I already told you, I’m done with the band,” she finally spoke. 

“Yeah, we know, alright? But before you decide that forever, we just… we wanted you to know that Luke isn’t as selfish as you think he is.”

“Yeah, you’ve got him all wrong,” Reggie spoke up. 

Julie scoffed and went back to her homework.

“You remember that song ‘Emily’? Can we at least show you who that’s about?”

-----

You never thought you would be spying on a ghost boy, but here you were. The four of you had walked to a house not too far away from Julie’s, and were peering through the front window from a distance. Luke was sitting on the counter, his eyes red from crying, watching an older couple move around the kitchen. It was Luke’s parents house.

“So, Emily’s his mom?” Julie asked, peering out from behind a tree. 

“Yeah. Yeah, Luke comes here a lot,” Alex said, crouching behind a chair. 

“He thinks we don’t know but, we’ve been following him,” Reggie admitted. “All he does is just, hang out like this and watch them. They never really do anything, though.”

“They’re having cake,” you noted. “That’s something.”

“It’s a… it’s a birthday cake. For Luke.” 

A tear slid down your cheek, matching the boy inside. 

“I never knew Luke was hurting this much,” Julie said.

“Yeah. It’s even worse because when he died, he… left on bad terms. You know, his parents didn’t want their 17-year-old to be in a rock band, so… he just left.” Alex said softly. “He never got the chance to make up with them.”

You watched as Luke blew out his birthday candle. His parents relit it and blew it out together.

“That’s why Luke was so angry,” you guessed, tears falling freely. “If Trevor had given Luke credit for writing all the songs, then…” you trailed off.

“His parents would have known his dreams were worth chasing,” Reggie sighed.

“They would have been so proud,” Julie said, her voice breaking a little. You looked over at her and saw that she was crying, too. 

Alex stood up. “We know how bad it hurts when someone that should’ve had your back… completely lets you down. We never meant to make you feel that way.”

“Julie, we love our band,” Reggie said, still crouching behind a plant. “And Luke does too. Please give us another chance.”

You looked back at Luke and his family one last time, noticing a bouquet of flowers on the island. You smiled to yourself. They were dahlia’s, Rose’s favorite.

-----

“Marching on proud

Turn it up loud

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth,” you and Julie harmonized.

Luke suddenly appeared in a chair. “Whoa,” he said as the music died out. Then he smiled. “Julie.”

She smiled back at him. “Grab a guitar. We got work to do.”

“What made you come back?”

“I realized how important music is to all of us. And we’ve lost so much already. We can’t lose this too.”

“Thanks,” Luke said quietly. Julie smiled at him. “Alright, boss, where we at?”

Julie smirked, taking pride in the name. “Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”

Luke looked a little stunned, and he glanced at you. 

“Happy birthday,” you said quietly, smiling at him.

A slight blush creeped onto his cheeks. 

Julie laughed slightly. “Let’s go from the pre-chorus.”

Alex smiled. “One, two three four!”

-----

“Guys, are you sure? She’s probably just getting dressed or something,” you said as Luke, Alex, and Reggie stopped outside of Julie’s door.

Reggie smirked. “Which is why I’ll be doing this.” He stuck his arm through the door and knocked on this inside. 

You heard Julie chuckle as she called out: “What are you guys doing?”

Reggie stuck his head through the door. “We’re being classy,” you heard him say. You and Alex pulled him back. 

The four of you walked through the door.

“Why are you still here?” Luke asked. “We’re going in like, twenty minutes.”

Julie sighed. “I lied to my dad, so…  now I’m stuck in my room all night.”

“Yeah, but, we were just at the venue! I mean it’s packed, like, VIPs, managers…” Alex trailed off. “It’s kinda crazy.”

“What are we gonna do about my aunt?” Julie asked, sighing again. “She’s right downstairs.”

Luke walked over to her window, smirking as he opened it. “You’re not taking the stairs.”

Julie shook her head slightly. “Okay. Let me get dressed. I’ll meet you guys there.”

The guys all poofed out, but you stayed behind for a minute, admiring your best friend’s room. It was just so… her.

“Y/N?” Julie asked, making you jump slightly. 

“Oh, sorry, I’ll leave-” you started, but Julie cut you off. 

“No, it’s fine.” She walked over to the trunk of her mom’s clothes, pulling out a leather jacket and turquoise romper.

“So,” she started. “What’s the deal with Luke?”

You felt your face go red. “Huh?” you sputtered. “I don’t-”

“Oh come on, Y/N,” she said with a smirk. “Everyone can see the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you.”

You shook your head. “Even if I did like him, which I’m not saying I do, there’s no way he would like me back.”

Julie rolled her eyes. 

“Really Jules! I mean, look at me!” You gestured to yourself. “I’m a mess, inside and out.”

Julie walked over to you and let her hands hover over your shoulders. “Y/N, you are one of the most beautiful people I know. Inside and out,” she smiled. 

“You really think so?” you asked. 

She nodded. You smiled. “Thanks, Jules.”

“Anytime,” she said, smiling back before putting on her outfit for the night. 

-----

“Next up, Dirty Candi,” announced the MC. 

“Am I too late?” Julie said, rushing over to where you and Flynn were standing. 

“Too early,” Flynn said, staring at the stage where Carrie was standing.

“Hope you all came to have a great time!” she said in a peppy voice. 

You glanced back and forth between Carrie and Flynn a few times. 

“Dirty Candi? How’d she get on the list?” Julie asked.

Flynn scoffed. “Her daddy probably made a call.”

You saw the way Flynn was staring at Carrie, trying to hide behind disgust. You smirked to yourself, but didn’t say anything. 

“I like this!” Flynn said, examining Julie’s jacket. “Pretty flower.” 

“Thanks. It’s a dahlia. My mom’s favorite.”

The three of you fell silent as Carrie started to sing. 

“Whenever I walk in the room

All the focus on me

The way I talk the way I move

They all want on my team.”

You rolled your eyes; it was clear that Carrie was just bragging about herself. Although you had to admit, the song was catchy and the dance moves were pretty cool. 

The guys appeared behind you, smiling as they watched the routine.

“The party don’t start ‘till I walk in

I’m stealing all the attention

Don’t get me started on mentions, yeah”

Suddenly Alex was on the stage. You and Reggie looked at each other in confusion, but Alex looked just as confused as you did. 

He quickly got over his confusion however, and he started dancing along with Dirty Candi. You laughed at his antics, making Flynn look at you in confusion.

 “Oh, it’s the guys,” you explained. 

Alex poofed back off the stage. 

“You having fun out there?” Julie asked him, laughter in her voice.

“It’s not my fault it’s my… it’s my feet.”

Julie scoffed, smiling at him. “Yeah.”

Alex grinned. “Put me back in, coach,” he muttered before appearing on the stage again.

You were thoroughly enjoying watching him dance around on stage, walking through Carrie and obviously having the time of his life. 

When the song ended, he hopped around in a little circle. “You’re making me blush,” he said, pretending the audience was clapping for him. Four members were.

He poofed back to you guys. “I um, I was just doing that for you guys.”

“Mmhmm. You can stop smiling now,” Reggie said playfully. 

“I’m not gonna lie, that was… kinda good,” Julie said. 

“Yeah.” Flynn scrunched up her nose. “I forgot why I hate her so much.”

Carrie walked up to the six of you, although to her it only looked like Julie and Flynn. 

“Hi girls!” she said brightly. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Flynn turned to Julie. “Now I remember.”

“If you’re looking for Nick, he didn’t come,” Carrie said coldly.

Julie stepped up to her. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay, looks like we’re closing out the night with one more group,” the MC announced. “ ‘Julie and the Fat Ones’.”

You, Alex, Reggie, and Julie all looked at Luke as Dirty Candi laughed. 

“Really?” Alex asked him.

“Yeah man, my handwriting sucks.”

Julie walked past Carrie onto the stage, the four of you following her. 

“Uh, hi, it’s actually ‘Julie and the Phantoms’,” Julie said, her voice coming up at the end of the sentence, making it sound like a question. 

“Okay,” she muttered when no one answered, and started to play the piano.

“Hearts on fire

We’re no liars

So we say what we wanna say

I’m awakened 

No more fakin’

So we push all our fears away”

You joined her, appearing on stage and taking the harmony line. The crowd gasped.

“Don’t know if I’ll make it

‘Cause I’m falling under

Close my eyes and feel my chest

Beating like thunder

I wanna fly

Come alive

Watch me shine.”

Suddenly, the boys appeared too, making the crowd gasp again.

“I’ve got a spark in me

Hands up if you can see

And you’re a part of me

Hands up if you’re with me

Now ‘till eternity

Hands up if you believe 

Been so long and now we’re finally free”

Julie smiled, letting you take the second verse. 

“We’re all bright now

What a sight now

Coming out like we’re fireworks

Marchin’ on proud

Turn it up loud

‘Cause now we know what we’re worth”

You smiled as Luke joined you.

“We know we can make it

We’re not fallin’ down under

Close my eyes and feel my chest

Beating like thunder

I wanna fly

Come alive

Watch me shine”

The five of you launched into the chorus again, Julie taking the melody. You dropped out, letting Julie and Luke sing the bridge.

“I got a spark in me

I got a spark in me

And you’re a part of me

And you’re a part of me

Now ‘till eternity

Now ‘till eternity

Been so long and now we’re finally free”

You smiled into your microphone as Julie nailed the high note, taking the melody of the chorus.

You grinned as the song came to an end, enjoying the adrenaline rush that came with singing in front of a crowd. You heard the crowd gasp again as the four of you disappeared, leaving Julie apparently alone on stage. 

“Thank you, we’re Julie and the Phantoms. Tell your friends,” she smiled before stepping off the stage. She immediately ran over to the bar area where you and Flynn were waiting.

You all squealed as they hugged each other.

“You were incredible! Both of you,” Flynn said, beaming at her two best friends.

“Yeah we were!” Reggie said as the boys appeared. 

You stood there in an excited silence for a minute more. 

“Hey, hey, whoever Carrie was trying to impress is coming this way,” Luke said suddenly. 

“Oh, it’s…” Julie trailed off as she turned around and saw the woman making her way over.

“She looks all business,” Alex said a little nervously.

“Wait, who should do the talking?” Reggie asked. Julie looked at him. “Oh, right.”

The woman stretched her hand out for Julie to shake. “Hi, I’m Andi Parker, and I’m-”

“Julie.” Andi Parker was cut off by Ray. 

“Dad!” Julie said in surprise. 

“It’s time to go.”

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[mrvdocks]

Plus One

It’s Joyce and Hopper’s wedding. A new member is added to the household, and things get real.

(chapter one)(two) 

It’s a Wednesday in February when he returns home and plops down onto the couch. The bar shifts just seemed to get worse. In the span of three minutes, he had to break up a fight, have the bouncer kick out a guy for harassing his manager, and clean a spill a drunk party group had made.

I’m not paid nearly enough for this, he thinks.

A sneeze breaks him from his misery. 

“Bless you.” He says with his eyes closed. They shoot open when he realizes you don’t sneeze like that. 

He sits up and looks at the moving thing under the pillow. His heart races as he hears some kind of breathing. 

Please no, he thinks. We just took care of the plumbing. 

He lifts the pillow carefully, expecting to see a pile of rats or mice or worse. Instead, he’s greeted by a sneezing dog. 

It’s a Scottish Terrier with big eyes that just seem to interrogate him as to why he interrupted his sneezefest. 

“Uhhhhh, where’d you come from?” He scans the apartment, seeing a dog bed at the corner of the lazy boy across from him. 

This had to be the work of one person only.

Steve calls out for you, hearing you run out from the bathroom in a hurry and a towel haphazardly wrapped around you. 

“What’s the emergency? Oh, I see you’ve met Mickey.” 

He’s speechless, looking at you like you’re out of your mind. “Mickey?”

“Yeah, they brought him in today and I felt really bad that they were taking him to the choky tomorrow. I had to save this poor baby. And who can say no to his little eyes?” You singsong the latter half of that sentence in a baby voice, kneeling to ruffle your fingers through Mickey’s fur.

“What if Tony finds out we have a dog? What do we say? We can’t keep him.”

You roll your eyes. “Relax, he’s quiet when he eats the jerky from Tom’s.”

“That’s my jerky!” Steve whines.

“Okay! I’ll get you extra then. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” 

Steve glances back to Mickey still staring at him. He puts out a cautious hand, Mickey getting close enough to sniff and then lick. 

At least it was nice to have another man in the house. 

He runs his hands through Mickey’s surprisingly soft coat, earning a low whimper from the pooch. Mickey lies on his side, clearly loving the scratches Steve is giving him. Steve catches himself smiling, suddenly forgetting the looming threat of eviction for a moment.

He’s wanted a dog since he was six, but his dad would never let him keep one. Not even a goldfish. He thinks maybe if he’d had a dog, he wouldn’t have turned out so cold in his teens. He just wanted to love something and have it love him back.

“Hmm, maybe you’re not so bad.” 

Mickey responds by kicking his tiny paws in the air, writhing on the couch.

Steve is so bewitched by the creature he doesn’t even notice when you come back into the room or even left for that matter.

“So, anything from that Sissy girl you were seeing?”

“No,” he pouts, “I mean I think she was scared off by this.” He gestures to himself.

“Oh my god, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what? I just felt like there wasn’t any long term potential there.”

“You guys went on one date, and you didn’t even kiss! You blue balled her!”

“Okay first of all, who takes their date to their family member’s birthday party and expects a whole relationship to blossom from there? And second, when you’ve been single as long as I have, you just know what you want and what to expect.”

You snicker. “But you don’t know what you want, you have like, the worst standards.”

“Uh, I like to think they’re realistic.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think it’s fair everyone has to compare to Phoebe Cates.”

“Phoebe was a great product of her time, thank you very much. And, I mean what about Tessa Grey?”

“Tessa Gr - my co-worker?”

Steve nods adamantly. “I would date her. You know if she wasn’t - engaged.” 

“Alright we have to unpack that sometime but first why do you always say their names like some sort of serial killer?”

“Because,” he thinks, “they’re firsty-lastys. The same way I’m Steve….” 

“Oh please don’t say it.” You cover Mickey’s ears. 

“Steve “The Hair” Harrington!” 

You groan in response, bringing Mickey to rest on your chest while you put your feet up on Steve’s lap. 

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” He mimics. 

“Oh, please. Okay, okay, let’s say for the sake of this being hypothetical, Tessa breaks off her engagement and she shows up here and says, ‘Oh my god, Steve Harrington I would love to have your babies, let’s get married! You can meet my family and eat my famous pasta, wahhhh!’” You flail your hands around for effect, seeing the amusement in his face.

His face screws up, “Geez, am I dating Wario now?” 

“That is exactly how she sounds! Plus, you would find something wrong with her and then you’d bail.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh but it is! It’s so true. In fact, anyone as grotesquely tall and hair-obsessed as you cannot be so picky.”

“I’m just trying to make sure I find the -”

“Don’t say it.”

“The one.” 

You groan, shoving your face into Mickey’s chest. 

“Oh yeah? I don’t see you bringing anyone home. Still not over Danny?”

Your mouth forms an O, you kick his thigh with the heel of your foot. 

“For your information, I have been seeing someone.”

This piques his interest. “Who and is he an escaped convict?”

“Okay,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t talked to him but he left his number at the desk so who knows?”

“Hmm, I may be wrong, but I don’t think that was meant for you. You are a receptionist after all.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But I just have some stuff to take care of beforehand.”

He nods.

“Personal…..maintenance.” 

“Yup.” 

“Gotta mow the lawn.” You emphasize.

“No yeah, I got you the first time. But come on, let’s be honest here. You’re stalling.”

“For what?” 

“Jumping into the unknown. Danny was a huge part of your life so I get what it’s like to lose that connection.”

You laugh sarcastically. “Okay, grandpa are these your words of wisdom? I am totally over Danny. At this point, I can say screw Danny! I have all the time in the world to find someone else!“

You weren’t completely wrong. Danny had been with you since senior year of high school. You thought it would be like one of those fairy tales where the high school sweethearts end up living together in an amazing house surrounded by all these treasures and all that jazz. Nothing could tear you down.

And then junior year of college came and he slept with one of your college friends. You transferred soon after. It was your first relationship, and you just felt like a failure. 

You don’t view California so great anymore, instead choosing to uproot yourself and finding the first place you could in New York for cheap.

It worked out fine, you think. It led you to Steve and Robin. 

Even though you clowned him for it, you also wanted that special connection. Love that movies taught you but you’d learned the hard way they weren’t going to translate into real life the same way. 

“Uh-huh. I mean there’s no shame in it, I was the same way with Nancy.”

“I wasn’t moping around and wallowing in self-pity like you, though.”

“C’mon what was that whole period of just ‘Danny!'” He mimics your voice crying and eating out of an invisible tub of ice cream. 

You feign being offended, chucking the couch pillow to him as he catches it and smothers himself with it. 

“Your dad’s crazy. Yes, he is.” You pout to Mickey. 

Joyce & Jim’s Wedding

Chincoteague, Virginia

March 1-3rd 

“I remember during ‘84, Chief Hopper had a special visitor waiting for him in his office to talk to him about the disappearance of her boy. At the time she was just the town’s nut, but I bet no one would guess the wild ride these two would go on to end up here.” The man who Steve tells you was one of Hopper’s officers back home, toasts.

It sat poorly with the guests, including a somewhat already even more pissed off looking Hopper. He seems to get the idea and ends his toast blessing the couple in their late forties. 

Jonathan goes up next, greeting the crowd. He’s dressed impeccably, his hair somewhat slicked back and his ring very prominent when the light catches it.

“I would like to thank everyone who came out to help us celebrate. I’m very proud of my mom and at first, I was a little wary about her settling down with someone. Not because I was moody about it but because she’s done so well on her own taking care of me and my siblings. She’s always been both parents to me but Jim,” Jonathan raises his glass.

“I want to thank you for helping us years ago, for believing in us. For being patient with us and sticking with us through thick and thin. My mom lights up every day like a Christmas tree and I think that’s evidence enough for me to happily welcome you into the family. To my mom and Jim!”

“To Joyce and Jim!” The crowd toasts. 

The wedding was held in a gazebo near the beach on the East Coast, with Joyce getting married in a white tea-length dress with lacing decorating her collar down to her arms and Jim in a grey suit decorated with one of Joyce’s favorite flowers in his pocket. They’d both changed for the reception, Joyce into a red sheath dress and Jim into a black dress shirt and pants and a blazer matching Joyce’s dress. 

You were seated with Jonathan and Nancy and another pair of family friends, talking and catching up with the other nuptials. They both told you the craziest stories about Steve from high school to when they last saw him, all the while he sat mere inches from you and hid behind his hand when something particularly embarrassing came up. 

You’d often erupt in fruity laughter, hearing about the time Steve got his Scoops Ahoy uniform stuck in the fridge or when he’d played Dungeons and Dragons for the first time only to lose every time. 

“So, how long has this been going on?” Nancy queries, gesturing to you and Steve.

You glance at Steve, lost for words for a moment. “We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends,” Steve adds right after you.

“I’ve been rooming with him for the past two years since Robin left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she concedes. “I always hear you call him Honey over the phone sometimes.”

Your eyes widen.  Curse your sarcastic nature.

“Oh no, god no,” You laugh nervously. “I just like to mess with him.”

You drown yourself out with the drink in front of you, leaving Steve to pick up the rest of the conversation.

“We got a dog.” Steve blurts out, trying to fill in for the painfully embarrassing silence.

Jonathan raises his brows, “Really?” 

“Yeah, only instead of being the dad of the group back then, I’m a dog dad now.” He reveals.

Nancy and Jonathan laugh, almost as if to help ease both of you back into not being awkward. 

“Hey, you guys heard Dustin’s getting married right?” Nancy pouts with her bottom lip drawn out. “He’s so old now.” 

“Yeah, Steve loves the little guy.” You blurt. Steve glances at you.

“Last I heard he was starting up some fund for kids with CCD in California,” Jonathan alleges.

“Oh yeah,” Nancy remembers. “The Palm Springs wedding.” 

The music begins playing for the guests and Nancy jumps, exclaiming that she loves this song and asks Jonathan to dance with her. They turn to you and Steve and urge you onto the dance floor, but you say you’ll be there in a second.

“What was that?” He whispers in a shrill tone.

“I panicked!” 

“They probably think we’re idiots now.” 

You cock your head down and glare at him. “These are your friends, Steve. They would never think that. It’s just been a while since you’ve all seen each other they probably understand.”

Steve bounces his leg in response. You put your hand on his thigh, stopping him. 

“Look, we are gonna go out onto that dance floor and we are going to find you the best damn lover you’ll ever have.”

He nods rapidly, hooked onto your every word. 

You lead him in when a couple leaves, guiding his hand to rest on your lower back and rest your left hand on the lapel of his suit. Your right-hand holds out for his, swaying until you can match the tempo of the music. 

“Okay, what about violet in glasses?” You suggest, feeling him turn you to catch a glimpse.

“Too bookish.” 

“What’s wrong with bookish?”

“I already have you, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, what about red with the pony?” 

“Where?” 

“Behind you, rotate.”

He rotates you to the left and makes a face. “Too mean.”

“What? She seems nice.”

“The red makes her seem aggressive.”

You sigh. “Okay, pink with the braid?”

He glances quickly to his right, “Yeah she’s cute.”

“I’ll go and spill my champagne on her and then you just swoop in and dry her off.” 

“Is there any way you can do this without assaulting someone?”

“It’s not assault, I’m just very hands-on with this.”

“That sounds like it’s textbook definition.”

“When have you picked up a textbook? Nevermind, you want to try this or not? I haven’t failed you yet.” 

He purses his lips, thinking back to the first wedding. 

“Don’t. I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

As the song ends you retreat to your table, grab your glass, and start sipping. Steve stays behind, watching you fake stumble and fall against the woman and drench her with the drink. She gasps as the cold beverage hits her, and Steve pulls out one of the fancy napkins from the table.

“Showtime.”

"You think she hates me now?” You say, drawing circles in the sand with your feet.

“You mean because a drunken guest dumped their drink on an expensive dress she was planning on returning?" 

You stare at him, unamused. 

"I appreciate the try. She just seemed….too hostile.”

“I get it, I mean a guy like you coming up to me and trying to pat my breasts down - I would want to leave too.” You chuckle to yourself.

Steve stands, smacking off the sand on his pants. He takes hold of your shoulders and leans you close to the waves as they crash against your ankle.

“Oh my god, Steve! You know I can’t swim.”

Steve is laughing like crazy, teasing you. He takes hold of your waist in a second, carrying you as far into the ocean as he can while you’re shrieking. 

He twirls you as you grip his hands tight, digging your nails into his skin and still screaming to be put down.

“Be careful what you wish for.” He says into your ear and drops you on your ass. The overwhelming cold and seaweed cover your body as you try to stand only to be wiped out by a wave. 

Steve is howling in hysterics, clapping like a seal.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna kill you!” You don’t sound too threatening, if anything your wet appearance was akin to that of a wet kitten just meowing in protest. 

Steve runs and dodges you, moving in a zig-zag pattern as you try your best to chase him through the water.

“You’ll never catch me!” He fronts. 

Anticipating him to move in a pattern, you wait till he moves to the left to start running to the right and knock him down against the sand with a hmph!

“Gotcha!” You exclaim, putting your hands on his chest and completely unaware of the position you’re in. 

You’re straddling him, legs on both sides and your face is inches away from his trying to catch your breath. He smells like salt and champagne.

He’s frozen in place too, one of his hands firmly on your lower back. 

Your eyes flicker from his to the rest of his face, focusing on the moles decorating his neck. He can smell your perfume still even through the saltwater. It inundates his senses, disorienting him momentarily. Your necklace dangles and touches his chin, taunting him. 

This is the moment you’ve been looking for, the one that the movies oh so love to display over and over again. Something in you tells you to do it, to just lean down and see if he tastes like you do. 

Instead, he pushes you to the side softly, catching his breath and patting your thigh. “I guess you got me.”

You nod, taking your dress by the ends of it to walk back onto dry land and leave him sitting there. You’d see him back at the hotel anyway.

@mochminnie​, @wolfish-willow​

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #joe keery x reader

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Book 6 is oficially finished but I still have a lot of editing to do bc I still don’t like it much jsdjs -Danny

Words: 3,387 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listent to: ‘Say Something’ -by A Great Big World

Chapter Twelve: The New Routine.

Mel was making zero progress on Occlumency, but she was quite good at Legilimency. 

She blamed this on the fact that she was now having one lesson every two weeks instead of once a week, which made her progress go slower.

Thankfully though, Dumbledore hadn't mentioned his brother at all, so she assumed her grandad had kept things to himself. On Monday, the girl walked into the common room and noticed a small group of her friends around the notice board.

— by order of—

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge)...

Mel stormed out of the place. She didn't speak until she reached the Gryffindor table at the Great Hall. Fred, George, Neville, Ginny and Dean sat around her.

"We didn't say a thing."

"We promise, Mel."

"I know you didn't," She said. "Hermione jinxed the parchment you signed, she told me yesterday. You wouldn't be all lively have you been the ones to blame."

"What was supposed to happen?"

"Dunno, but it was supposed to hurt and it was supposed to be noticeable," She forced a spoonful of cereal down her throat, just to have something to do and calm her spirits.

"No one looks injured," Ginny looked around the Great Hall. "Most of the people that were in the meeting are here, but we would've heard if any had woken up with their faces all messed up, right?"

Mel dropped her spoon.

"I told Hermione this would happen! If my Grandfather wasn't the one–"

"Your grandfather?" Neville asked.

"–Then someone heard us, someone who clearly doesn't want us to learn," She ignored Neville's question.

Hermione, Harry and Ron sat close to the group, immediately they all dropped questions on them as well.

"Did you see it?"

"D'you reckon she knows?"

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to do it anyway, of course," Harry looked at her. "If that's okay with you."

"Why wouldn't it be?" She asked grumpily. "Oh, how I'm wishing to vanish that silly grin of the Toad's face..."

"Knew you'd say that," George hit Harry's arm lightly.

"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking over at Ron and Hermione.

"Of course."

"Here comes Ernie and Hannah Abbott," said Ron worryingly. "And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith... and no one looks very spotty."

"Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really suspicious — sit down!" She gestured to rejoin their tables. "Later! We'll — talk — to — you — later!"

"I'll take care of them," Mel got up.

"I'll tell Michael," said Ginny, getting up as well. "The fool, honestly... are you all right?"

"Peachy," She replied dryly.

"I saw the way Cho and Harry were ogling at each other the day of the meeting... I'm sorry."

"I don't care," Mel raised a brow, still looking forward. "I'm actually considering asking Fred on a date, you know?"

Before she could hear Ginny's reaction, she quickly approached Hannah and Ernie.

"Morning, guys!" Mel smiled tightly, putting her arms around their shoulders. "Come, let's go to your table..."

"Mel, have you seen–?"

"I have," She insisted, turning them around gently. "Now let's go to your table so we can talk about it calmly..."

"We need permission to re-form the Quidditch team," Ron told her as soon as they sat down to hear Binn's lecture"

"I know, it said so in the parchment," Mel gave him a sorrowful look. "Don't worry Ron, she can't forbid the team to play, it would be unfair, and as long as Harry doesn't give her more reasons to punish him everything will turn out fine."

"Did Ernie and Hannah gave you trouble?"

"Not at all, they were quite understanding," She smiled softly. "I like them, they're good... Very discrete as well, promised they would let their friends know but only when they were sure they were the only ones listening, so you can cross Zach out of your list, he didn't spill the potion."

Twenty minutes into the lesson Hedwig appeared in the window seal, Harry went to get her and came back with a dreadful discovery.

"Oh, Merlin..." Mel gasped in horror.

The bird's wing was twisted in a way it shouldn't have been possible. It was obvious that she was not okay.

Harry stood up and told Professor Bins he didn't feel well, and he needed to go to the hospital wing. Most of their classmates glanced curiously at them but didn't stop him from leaving. The expression on his face was enough to break her heart. Harry was extremely worried about Hedwig, and she was too.

She wondered how was he taking all the news, must've been frustrating for him, after being so excited about standing up for what he believed in. She tried to talk to him after breakfast, but the words simply didn't come, she felt stuck, not knowing how to interact with him anymore.

"Poor Hedwig!" Ron frowned. "It's weird, she'd never been injured before, had she? D'you reckon she was attacked by another animal?"

"This is too much of a coincidence," Mel shook her head, "first the notice board, now this... they're watching us, every form of communication..."

Then it occurred to her. Not every form of communication was being watched, she still had one.

"I need to talk to Erick," She rummaged through her pockets and pulled out her watch.

"Why him?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Do you really think he has the solution for everything?"

"No you dunce," Mel scowled at him. "But for this particular problem, he does..."

She tapped the front of her watch with her wand, then she closed it and held onto it tightly.

"I hope so, at least."

"Who's the letter from anyway?" asked Ron, taking the note from Harry.

"Snuffles," said Harry quietly.

" 'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in the common room?"

"Obviously," said Hermione, also reading the note. She looked uneasy. "I just hope nobody else has read this..."

"But it was still sealed and everything, and nobody would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?"

"I guess so..." Mel put a hand in her pocket and touched her watch. She was hoping her friend could make it on time. "We need to be smarter, though. She clearly has gone through it all."

"It wouldn't be exactly difficult to reseal the scroll by magic..." Hermione agreed. "And if anyone's watching the Floo Network... but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted too!"

Draco Malfoy was standing just outside Snape's classroom door, waving around a piece of parchment and talking in the tone Mel knew he only used when he wanted to show off, which was always.

"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straight away, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry... It'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?"

"Don't rise," Hermione whispered. "It's what he wants..."

"I mean, if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance... From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years... And as for Potter... My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's... apparently, they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic... reckon the Dumbledores would feel at home there as well."

Before Mel could stop him, Neville launched himself towards the Slytherins.

"Neville, no!" Harry seized the back of Neville's robes. Malfoy could not believe his eyes. "Help me!"

Crabbe and Goyle closed in front of Malfoy. Mel stepped forward, trying to stand as tall as she could. Ron grabbed the boy's arms and he and Harry dragged Neville away.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," Mel said quietly, so calm and composed she surprised herself. "You're way slower than me even with your wands ready. Get lost."

"Not... funny... don't... Mungo's... show... him..."  She heard Neville panting behind her.

"I know, Neville," She said, though she kept her eyes fixed on the Slytherin boys. "He didn't mean to be so stupid. Right, Malfoy? Aren't you going to ask them to stop, Prefect?"

Malfoy, maybe because he could sense he wouldn't be able to win this fight, growled to Crabbe and Goyle to step back.

"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?" Snape walked out of the dungeons.

Mel turned to the boys and mouthed 'let him go!'. The boys obeyed her right away.

"He was feeling ill, Professor," She turned around and held Snape's sneer.

"Inside. All of you." He said shortly before entering his dungeon again.

Neville turned to look at his friends in a way he'd never done before.

"I had to stop you," Harry said slowly, picking up their friend's bag. "Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart."

"I would never let that happen," Mel walked up to Neville and put a hand on his shoulder. "You hear me, Nev? I would never."

Neville remained quiet, he brushed off her hand and snatched his bag away from Harry's grip. Entering the room in a flash.

"What in the name of Merlin," said Ron in awe, "was that about?"

Harry and Mel were aware of Neville's parents, but it was still a secret, much like every thing in her life right now. Harry said nothing, he was looking at her with a strange scowl, she felt like he was almost mad she had decided to step in. Mel didn't care about it, she let out a tired sigh.

"Everyone has their limits, Ron. Malfoy found his..."

She passed the table she would usually occupy with the group and instead joined Neville, thinking he would be needing extra help being too distracted to pay attention to the lesson.

"I don't need–"

"No need to act all tough and proud," Mel sat down determinedly. "I'm not here to pity you. I'm here to make sure you don't blow up anything."

He lowered his gaze to his cauldron, he didn't try to usher her away after that.

"You will notice," said Snape suddenly, "that we have a guest with us today."

Umbridge was sitting at the darkest corner of the dungeon, it surprised her how she hadn't noticed her there, even though she was wearing her usual blinding pick robes.

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions... on the board. Carry on."

Mel poured her whole attention on her work, she made sure Neville could be a decent student this time as well. She would glance from time to time to Umbridge, trying to guess what she was doing.

"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," Umbridge commented to Snape. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus. Now... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?"

"Fourteen years."

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

"Obviously."

"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes..."

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?"

"Because Snape's a git," Mel mumbled under her breath.

"I suggest you ask him," said Snape dryly.

"Oh I shall," Professor Umbridge smiled.

"I suppose this is relevant?"

"Oh yes. Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er — backgrounds..."

"Of course they cared about their backgrounds now," Mel scoffed, still talking in a whisper. "They care about their hobbies, don't they? If they have a knack for fighting governments during the weekends? What a bunch of–"

"Mel, your potion," Neville warned her, noticing the way it was starting to show a green smoke.

"Woops!" She quickly did some arrangements, and the potion was back to normal. "Thanks, Neville."

"I reckon I did well enough in today's lesson!" Neville said proudly, beaming at her. "Thank you for your help..."

"It was a pleasure," She smiled back.

"Sorry for Harry though... you saw how Snape vanished his potion again?"

"Yeah," Mel frowned. "What a twat, but Harry should really try harder..."

"It's weird to hear you talk about him like that," Neville said innocently. "You usually are the first to defend him..."

"I'm the first to defend any of you," She corrected. "I'm not going to support him blindly– I mean, you did well today and you were having a bad morning too, right?"

Neville's smile faded.

"Reckon so, yeah..."

"Hey, I know it's not my place but..." She pondered how to say it without scaring him away. "Whatever got you all worked up, well, I'm always here if you need to talk. You're my friend as much as Harry or Ron..."

When they reached the marble staircase Mel remembered she had a meeting to attend, so she said goodbye to Neville and told him she would meet him in Divination. She ran to the very back of the library and found Erick standing in the corner, peering over a shelf towards the hall. Mel tiptoed until she was right behind him and scared him.

Erick jumped, hitting the side of his face on the edge of the bookshelf. The boy cursed rather loudly and stepped back, a hand rubbing his cheek.

"What is your problem?!"

"Lower your voice!" Mel said in horror. "I'm so sorry! Let me see your face–"

"Don't–"

"C'mon, I can help!"

Mel pulled his hand away and tilted his face towards the light. His cheek was slightly red, but it was uninjured.

"I don't think it'll bruise..." She said, getting closer to him. "What in the name of Godric were you doing? Who are you stalking?"

"I'm not stalking anyone," He complained. "I was... Lately I've been– Move away, will you? You're making me nervous..."

He pushed her aside gently and moved towards the nearest table.

"Let's make this quick," He told her, sitting down. "I want to eat something before Potions, Merlin knows I need it..."

Mel quickly told him about Hedwig and how they were obviously being watched after their meeting in Hogsmeade, Erick listened so intently that he even forgot about making his usual sarcastic remarks, once she ended, he half-smiled.

"You already found a solution, didn't you?"

Mel put her pocket watch on the table and looked at him with resolution.

"We want to keep going," She pointed to the little object on the table. "And we need something like this to spread the news safely and with the certainty that only those who belong in the group are the ones getting it."

"You clever girl..." Erick supported both arms on the table and stared at the watch, his brain already going a thousand miles per hour. "What do you need?"

"Well, for starters, I need to know the charm."

"It'll be easy, you're talented enough– Protean charm, don't forget it."

"We need something like this," She lifted the watch and stared at it. "But people carrying similar watches around the school would be too suspicions... and they're not exactly cheap..."

"You don't need to buy several of the same," Erick replied. "Just reproduce one."

"What?" Mel blinked.

Erick rolled his eyes.

"A doubling charm, you goose. Learn how to do it and you'll get copies of anything in the blink of an eye."

"Oh! Okay..." She smiled.

"Tell Hermione about it," Erick peered over her shoulder anxiously. "I would help you, but we can't take risks and I rather not know a lot about your plans in case... you know..."

"Yes," Mel nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem," He nodded, the concern coming back to his features.

"It's everything okay?"

"What? Why?" He blinked, stepping away from the table. "I'm fine, just tired... haven't slept well."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter..."

"Erick..." She insisted, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stay in place.

He looked everywhere but her, until finally, Erick let out a strange noise that sounded like half a growl and he rubbed his eyes furiously before pushing her hand away and starting to speak.

"My Grandad..."

Mel felt something heavy on her chest and nodded in understanding.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. If it helps... I'm right here."

He nodded, eyes fixed on the ground.

"I know."

Mel continued with her day, spending most of it with Neville to make sure Malfoy wouldn't take advantage of him if he were to find him alone.

Back in the common room, she saw no reason not to waste her night away with the twins, who were currently showing to a curious crowd their newest products. Her mind had started to drift to what she'd said to Ginny a few hours earlier, but was soon interrupted when she witnessed Fred vomiting into a bucket and forcing a purple candy down his throat.

She was still having fun though, collecting the money and giving the Skiving Snackbox to their new owners. Lee Jordan and George Weasley would take turns with Fred so he wouldn't get all weak from the constant vomiting. She was highly thankful for the vanishing spell, otherwise, that bucket would be beyond disgusting.

Hermione would constantly glare at her and scoff, but Mel smiled innocently through it all. It wasn't her fault what the twins were doing, and they were technically doing nothing against the rules. Her housemates needed this kind of entertainment considering the shitty year they were all having.

"Here's your part, lady," Fred held out a small bunch of sickles for her to take. The crowd had dispersed a while ago, and they've been counting their money before going to bed.

Mel frowned and pushed it back.

"What are you talking about?"

"You were the beautiful assistant back there!" Fred said. "Half of our sells occurred just because you were the one taking the money– Am I wrong, George?"

"Those third-years have it bad for you, Lady," George smirked.

"You've become quite popular overnight," Lee raised a brow. "Don't you remember what the older Gryffindors used to say?"

"Oh yes," Mel laughed. "I was the little feral thing, wasn't I? They would compare me to peeves and all... can't say I miss it."

"You were never like Peeves, though," Fred smiled. "Peeves is quieter."

"Sod off!" She exclaimed over the boys' laughter. "I've changed, haven't I? Didn't really think about it until now..."

"Well, you don't yell at strangers in the halls anymore..."

"And you don't want to fight everyone either..."

"I did all that for stupid reasons," Mel glanced towards Harry. "Really stupid reasons, if you ask me..."

The boys shared a knowing look. Everyone knew at this point that asking her about what had happened between Harry and her was useless, neither of them would say a thing.

"Time for bed, I s'pose," George yawned, getting up from his chair.

"You're sure you don't want this?" Fred raised a brow, showing her the money one last time.

"I don't need it, Fred."

"No need to brag about it," Lee scoffed, taking the money. "It's mine, then."

"Hey!" Fred slapped the back of his head. "Give it back! We're gonna split it!"

They continued their bickering as they disappeared behind the door to the boys' dormitory. Mel had a lazy smile on her face than soon worn out as she realized she'd been left alone in the room with Hermione, Ron and Harry. She got up slowly and made her way towards them.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @sarcasticallywitty15 @21bruhs

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Rafe McCawley

(My gif) (Requested by @minigranger )

(I’m so sorry this took so long! I’m trying really hard to write more often on all my blogs!)

- You and your family lived in the same town as Rafe so even though you didn’t directly meet him until you were older, you still saw him around a lot growing up. 

- For as long as he could remember, he had always had a massive crush on you. No, not just a crush, this boy was in love with you ever since he first saw you at the general store when you were kids. 

- Anytime he saw you, he’d stop and stare like an angel just walked past him. And to him you were an angel, one he needed to have for himself. If only he had the guts to talk to you. 

- He did in fact gain the courage to ask you out on a date but only after he got older and grew out of his awkward gangly teenage phase. 

- You were genuinely surprised when he approached you for the first time, introducing himself with such urgency and determination that you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the most important thing in the world. He really powered through his confession like his life depended on it which was honestly pretty adorable to you. 

“Ma’am? My name is Rafe McCawley and please excuse me, but I just need to get this off of my chest. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, inside and out, and you would make me the happiest man on Earth if you were to say you’d join me on a date.” 

- Who could say no to that?

- The smile you gave him once he was finished made his knees weak. He almost couldn’t believe his ears once you agreed, it was like all his dreams had come true. He quickly told you he’d pick you up at noon the next day before clumsily making his exit, running home to tell Danny everything that had happened. 

- He was so excited for your date that he literally arrived at your house thirty minutes early and waited outside, checking his watch until he deemed it appropriate to ring your doorbell. He was nearly speechless when you answered, handing you a bouquet of flowers before finally forcing out a “god, you are so beautiful”. 

- He took you to a gorgeous lake where the two of you sat in the shade of a big  willow tree and had a pretty little picnic. He was adorably clumsy throughout your whole date which only made you fall for him even more. He confessed that he’d liked you for a long time now and you confessed the same which caught him completely off guard. 

- The thing about Rafe is that deep down, he’s a shy loser. He can’t flirt for the life of him but god can he make a girl swoon without even trying. He wins your love with earnest compliments and sweet nothings that come straight from his heart. 

- You have your first kiss that same day, bathed in the setting sun and surrounded by the smell of warm dry air and flowers. It’s deliciously soft and beautifully slow, making your heart race and your mind stop. 

- You’ve been two fools in love ever since and you’ve got no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

- He wants everyone to know that you’re together so expect a lot of pda. Handholding, soft kisses, hugs, his arm wrapped around you, etc. It’s all very innocent but it sends a message and makes you both happy. 

- You catch him watching you a lot, often with this little smile on his face that tells you exactly what he’s thinking. How did I get so lucky. 

- Passionate kisses. 

- Spontaneous and adventurous dates and decisions. Most of them get ruined somehow but neither of you mind, the temporary thrill is amazing and the get-away is always amusing. 

- Even though you don’t come from much, he tries his best to make you feel like the classiest woman alive. Champagne, roses, diamonds, whatever he can get his hands on. 

- Folded cranes and other sentimental gifts. Both of you smile every time you see them. 

- He likes pressing kisses all over your face before he finally captures your lips in his. He adores the little giggles you make whenever he does it.

- He wraps both his arms around you in a bear hug when the two of you cuddle. He can hardly sleep without holding you close, almost as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear in the night

- He’s pretty clumsy so you’ll have to take care of your fair share of cuts and bruises. 

- Hearing about all of his adventures with Danny. Some of them are so outrageous that you can’t believe they’re real no matter how much he laughingly assures you they are. 

- He’s going to give you a complex with how much he compliments you. It’s kind of funny though because as much as he compliments you, he often gets pretty flustered when you do the same. 

- He uses a lot of pet names on you but you think you like it best when he calls you by your name. There’s just something so nice about the way he says it. 

- Sitting on his lap and snuggling close. 

- Soft caresses, he can never seem to keep his hands off of you. 

- Pulling his hat off his head so that you can kiss him. When you pull away, he likes to teasingly place it on yours, calling you captain and asking what you feel like doing. 

- There’s a lot of teasing in your relationship but it’s the “so sweet it’ll rot your teeth” kind of teasing. 

- Getting carried around bridal style. 

- Taking long walks together. He likes having a chance to get away from everybody and just spend some quality time with you. 

- He’s taken you on a plane ride at least once, he’s either very glad that you share his love for flying or finds it cutely amusing when you get scared. 

- Even though he’s fond of thrills, he does enjoy just spending a quiet night in with you. 

- Whenever he goes to order food or drinks for the two of you, he’ll hand you some money to go spend on the jukebox while you wait for him. He thinks it’s cute when you skip off all excited to pick a song. 

- Going to the cinema together. 

- Photo booth pictures.

- Going dancing. 

- Sneaky butt touches, he tries his best to act innocent but you know he’s a liar. 

- Tight hugs, he often lifts you up and spins you around whenever you wrap your arms around him. 

- He always tries his best to act like he isn’t sick or hurt but he rarely manages to do so convincingly. A lot of the time he can’t help but give up, apologize and admit that yes, he feels about ready to die. He want’s you to think he’s all tough and macho but he doesn’t have quite the pain tolerance or acting skills for it. 

- He likes for everything to be special when he’s with you, he loves making memories together and having things to look forward to the next time he sees you. 

- It always warms his heart to hear you talk about your future together or how much your parents like him. He loves knowing that you’re planing to stay with him and that he’s already a part of your family. 

- At the start of your relationship, he tried desperately to hide his disability from you, thinking that, for some ungodly reason, you’d stop loving him and think that he was stupid. You reassure him that that would never happen and help him whenever he needs you to. 

- Sometimes he just likes having you read different books to him or recount the plots of books that you’ve read. He loves your voice and being able to experience stories without the difficulty of trying to read them. 

- He’s insecure but in a secretive, no one would know, type of way. Anyone who doesn’t know him well would never be able to tell but you can see through the cracks and know exactly what he’s thinking most of the time. 

- He’s a pretty jealous guy, he takes people flirting with or being interested in you very personally and has definitely gotten into fights over you. He just cares about you too much to let someone “disrespect your relationship” like that. 

- He might be willing to let you go if you don’t love him anymore but god will it be hard for him. He firmly believes a part of him will always love you no matter what happens between the two of you. 

- You rarely ever fight, there’s hardly ever a reason to, your relationship is pretty much perfect. But on that rare occasion that you do, you’ll both just calmly get everything off of your chest before you resolve whatever needs to be resolved. 

- He doesn’t lose his temper with you very often. The very thought makes him sick so if he feels he’s like he’s going to snap, he’ll take a few moments to calm down on his own before attempting to fix things with you. It doesn’t take long for everything to be sorted out and for you to go back to your happy, in love selves. 

- He always tries his best to be there for you, offering you reassurance and a shoulder to cry on whenever you need. 

- He often treats you very gently even though he knows you won’t break. It’s just been drilled in his head that you treat a woman with care because they’re “gentle creatures”. 

- He’s very protective of you, he always makes sure you know that he’d never let anything happen to you. 

- He does everything he can to see you as much as possible especially after he gets accepted into the army.

- Sending each other letters when he goes away. 

- He keeps a picture of you on him at all times. He’s probably kissed it a few times. 

- He also has a necklace of yours that you gave to him when he first went away. It helps to keep him from missing you too much. Whenever he see’s it shining in his reflection he can’t help but feel better yet melancholy at the same time. 

- No matter how many times he has to do it, saying goodbye never gets any easier. He hates having to leave you, not being able to see you for such long lengths of time is torture. 

- He always promises to come back as soon as possible and you hold him to that promise, saying you’ll drag him back yourself if you have to. 

- Having your entire world shatter around you when you receive the news of his death. You bawl your eyes out for weeks, not being able to believe that it’s true. 

- Thinking you’ve died and went to heaven when he arrives at your door safe and sound. All you can do is fall into his arms and refuse to let go. Nothing will ever top the feeling of getting him back. 

-  Constant “I love you’s” not a day goes by when he doesn’t say it to you, at least when you’re together in person. He can’t help but swoon every time you tell him the same, especially when you say it out of nowhere, 

- He dreams of settling down with you, starting a family and living on a cozy little farm together. A future with fields of green, laughter and love. What more could a man ask for? 

#rafe imagine #rafe headcanons #rafe headcanon #rafe mccawley imagine #rafe mccawley headcanons #rafe mccawley headcanon #pearl harbor 2001 #rafe mccawley pearl harbor #pearl harbor imagine #pearl harbor headcanons #pearl harbor headcanon #early 2000s

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 30: Tim

Tim still feels guilty a week later.

Not, it has to be said, that anyone is making him feel guilty. Quite the opposite. The group hug in the Primes’ unofficial bedroom seems to have cleared the air. They don’t exactly say anything about forgiveness or accepting one another’s apologies, but Sasha comes with them when they leave work and ends up spending the night; they build a massive fort in the living room using every pillow and blanket in the house, have popcorn and hot chocolate for dinner, and swap stories about their childhoods until way too late in the evening considering they have work the next day. When Martin hesitantly admits the next evening that he’s been having trouble sleeping, Jon reminds him of his promise that Martin doesn’t have to be alone anymore, and the three of them curl up together in Tim’s bed for the first time since Jon’s stabbing, this time with Martin in the middle. They agree after that to assume they’ll keep doing that unless one of them has a genuine need to sleep alone.

But Tim still finds himself occasionally waking up in the middle of the night and studying the peaceful look on Martin’s face as he sleeps, or watching Jon mumble and shift restlessly as he watches whatever horror the Eye is forcing someone to relive, and feeling like the world’s biggest heel. While he knows he doesn’t have anything to do with Jon’s nightmares, he still feels like they’re not so bad when Jon isn’t isolating himself, and God knows Martin’s sleep is probably better when he doesn’t feel like he’s being shut out. And while, again, Jon was the one to insist at first that it would be better for him to sleep alone while he had the stitches in and Martin had quietly gone to his own room as well, Tim still feels like he pushed them away, even if it was unconsciously. He hurt both of them and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

He knows he should say something. That’s the whole point of all this; they’re trying to communicate. If something is bothering him, he ought to tell the others. But what he doesn’t want is for Martin—or Jon, for that matter—to spout platitudes and reassurances that he won’t believe. Even though he can tell from their actions that they’re genuine.

At the root of it, that’s the issue. Jon and Martin have forgiven Tim for the way he treated them when he was angry. Tim can’t forgive himself.

Tim taps his pen against his jaw absently as he studies the file in front of him. He’s quizzed Martin Prime on the “feeling” he once mentioned getting about which statements were real or not, and in the last few days he’s been trying his hand at it. It’s slow going, and he knows it’s probably at least partly because he’s resisted the Eye harder than the others, but ever since Sasha’s intervention, he’s decided, screw it. He’s trapped here, for better or for worse, and if it means he maybe gets freaky psychic powers, maybe he can at least use them to help keep his family safe.

This one feels real. It feels bad. Tim hates it on sight, which probably means it’s a Stranger statement; he tends to react badly to those for obvious reasons. And this one deals with taxidermy, which definitely doesn’t help matters. Still, he grits his teeth and digs into it, and what he finds…isn’t comforting. The name Daniel Rawlings is one he remembers—that was one of the people who went missing near Old Fishmarket Close, the very first statement they ever researched that had to go on the tape recorders. And the description of the thing in the basement sounds a hell of a lot like the thing Nathan Watts saw—holding bodies, luring people down with creepy, repetitive phrases. The guy’s lucky to be alive. The fact that the Trophy Room apparently still exists, and is still under Daniel Rawlings’ ownership, is…not great. From a research standpoint, it’s a boon they don’t usually get, but from a practical, this-is-probably-something-set-to-destroy-the-world standpoint, it’s fucking terrifying.

Tim stares at the statement for a long moment. Whether they need to follow up on it or not is almost academic at this point; they will follow up on it, because it’s what they do. They’ll do what they can from the office, but Tim doesn’t need any kind of special powers to know that eventually, someone will go out there to investigate in person. And it’s dangerous. Someone could get seriously hurt.

Which means there’s only one choice, really.

Sasha comes back from her lunch break and smiles at Tim; he smiles reflexively back and goes through the usual routine of how was your lunch, what’s the weather like, anything interesting come up while I was out. He assures Sasha that everything is fine on their end, shuffles the folder under some of the others on his desk under the guise of neatening things up, grabs his jacket, feels to make sure his phone is in the inner pocket, and heads out of the Archives.

It’s the warmest it’s been all month, but there’s just enough of a breeze to keep his jacket on as he walks to the Tube station. Sloane Square is the nearest stop to the Institute, but it’s not on the right line, so he’ll have to change trains at Monumental, and God, this is stupid. Jon hasn’t told him to look into this statement like this, hasn’t sent him to investigate. He doesn’t have to do this, job-wise.

It also occurs to him, belatedly, that he hasn’t told anyone he’s doing this. Well, there’s a reason for that, really; Jon would either try to forbid him from heading out there or insist he bring someone along, neither of which are happening. Tim’s not exposing anyone else on the team to this, even if he’s right there with them. Better that it just be him risking…whatever he’s risking by heading up to Woodside Park. But he should at least warn someone he might be a bit late getting back from lunch. He doesn’t have to say where he’s going exactly, he rationalizes, just say he’s investigating a statement. There are four or five on his desk, and even if Sasha goes snooping through them to see what he’s working on, there’s no way they can be sure this is the one he’s poking into. They’ll probably think it’s any statement but this one. They all know how Tim feels about the Stranger.

When he sits down on the second train just before it pulls out of the station, he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. What he pulls out…is not his phone. It’s a small handheld tape recorder, the sort of thing you’d find in an amateur spy kit, looking like it’s brand new out of the package. Tim stares at it in stupefaction for a moment, then quickly pats himself down. His phone is not in his pocket, and he suddenly has a clear and vivid picture in his mind of it sitting on the corner of his desk, charging, because he forgot to plug it in last night.

Great.

For a moment, he’s tempted to go back. Turn around, head back to the Institute, grab his phone, come back another time. Maybe give Jon a heads-up that he’ll be a bit late getting back, if Jon’s back from lunch by the time he gets there. He doesn’t have to say where he’s going, just that he’s following up on a statement or something like that. No need to specify, right?

He doesn’t, though. For one thing, he’s pretty sure if he goes back, he’ll lose his nerve and either not go back or bring someone back with him…or worse, let one of the others go instead. He’ll never be able to live with himself if he puts anyone else in danger like that. And for another, he knows Jon won’t accept a half-explanation. Tim will either have to tell him nothing or everything. And if Tim tells Jon everything, Jon will forbid Tim to come out here.

“I can hear him now,” he mutters, still staring at the recorder in his hand. “‘There’s no need for you to put yourself in that kind of danger, Tim, and certainly no need to expose yourself to that. We can do this over the phone if we have to.’”

Except they can’t; the Stranger is at its best when it’s hidden, so if they’re not looking it in the—well, looking it in the eye, Tim guesses—it’s going to lie to them. It might lie to his face, too, but at least he’ll have the evidence of his senses. And at least he can put it on alert, maybe. The Eye sees you. The Institute is aware of you. Timothy Stoker knows where to find you.

Yeah, right. This is the stupidest thing Tim’s done since he tried to jump off the roof using his grandmother’s umbrella with the bird handle as a parachute.

He turns the recorder over a couple of times in his hands. The Primes mentioned once that their Tim hated these things—the way they kept turning up without warning, the way they would turn themselves on at random times, what they might mean. Tim’s not exactly thrilled about this one just turning up in his pocket either, if it comes down to it, especially in place of his phone. A tape recorder won’t enable him to get in touch with anyone if things go tits-up, or if he’s running late or something. On the other hand…well, it’s better than nothing. And he has to admit it’s a little bit of a comfort to know he’s not technically alone. The Primes both swear they aren’t a tool of the Eye, and he has to admit their logic is sound as to why not, but still, someone or something is listening to him, which means he won’t disappear into nothing. If, God forbid, something goes wrong, at least there will be a record. Some kind of witness.

Tim pats down his pockets and locates a pen, then pops open the recorder. Nestled inside is a microcassette tape, ready and waiting. He considers for a moment, then writes RETURN TO ARCHIVES, THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE, LONDON on the label as neatly as he can. There isn’t anywhere on the recorder’s surface to write, and he doesn’t have any tape or anything, but he hopes that will be sufficient, should someone find it and need to send it back. He considers writing his name and the address of the Institute on his arm or something, the way his parents used to do with him and Danny whenever they went out someplace they might get separated, but decides against it. Based on where he’s going and what he knows about what’s there, the balance of probability is that if he dies, they won’t leave any skin to identify him. He’ll have to settle for tucking his wallet in the same pocket as the recorder and hoping they dispose of his jacket without going through it.

Tim is beginning to wish he put a little more forethought into this. Or, you know, any forethought at all.

Woodside Park is almost at the end of the Northern line, which gives Tim way too much time to think about turning back and consider that there’s no turning back now. He’s the only one who gets off at that stop, which is certainly not eerie at all. Nope, nothing to be concerned about here, perfectly normal. (Logically, it probably is perfectly normal, but Tim is so addled right now that everything looks spooky.) He fishes out the recorder and turns it on.

“Right,” he says. “Uh, this is Timothy Stoker, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, and…if you’re listening to this and don’t know what that is, well, uh, stop listening and get this back to Jonathan Sims, the Head Archivist. You, uh, you should be able to look it up. Stop listening now.” He pauses a second or two, then continues, “Okay, should be Archival staff listening now…Jon, Martin, if it’s you, I’m sorry, but I had to do this. I’m, uh, I’m at Woodside Park right now, I just got off the Tube, and…well, I’m about to go into the Trophy Room. This statement is just…it’s too freaky to leave alone. I can’t risk any of you if it’s something serious and…I’m sorry. Anyway, I’m…going to leave this thing going in my pocket, kind of try to get a recording, so that if I can’t explain for whatever reason, you’ll know what happens. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Hopefully nothing too bad, but…well, we’ll see.”

He pauses for a moment, then tucks the recorder back in his pocket and says under his breath, “Fuck.” Then he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and heads down the block.

The Trophy Room isn’t hard to find. It’s exactly as the taxman described it in his statement—an aged, grimy building with faded gold lettering and a dirt-streaked olive green awning. There’s even a stuffed big cat in the window, and the only reason Tim knows it’s a tiger and not a lion, apart from the statement, is because big cats were something of an obsession of his when he was nine or ten, back when he’d considered a career as a wild animal tamer for a circus, and he made a study of the physiology of them. This is unmistakably a tiger, long-faded stripes notwithstanding. That seems to him a somewhat irresponsible way to care for something you ought to put pride in, but what does Tim know?

The bell over the door clangs raucously when Tim pushes the door open, and he is suddenly confronted by hundreds of staring, glassy eyes. Tim quite likes animals and he’s seen many of the ones in the shop live and in person, including an up-close-and-personal encounter with a moose (this one must be a juvenile, he thinks, a full-grown bull wouldn’t fit in the space it’s crammed into), but the concentration of them looking at him, all at once, is disconcerting, to say the least. But it’s not nearly so disorientating as the smell. Danny once declared he was going to buy their mother something “unique” and purchased a titan arum for her before learning that it was more commonly called a “corpse flower” for a very good reason. This place smells like they’ve got an entire greenhouse of them under the floor.

Which is better than the alternative, really.

A man comes out of the back. True to the description in the statement, he’s a “fresh-faced twenty-something”; if he’s even Jon’s age, Tim will eat the entire taxidermied moose. He raises his eyebrows in Tim’s direction. “Can I help you?”

A nagging, persistent voice in the back of Tim’s head that sounds an awful lot like Martin suggests that declaring himself to be from the Magnus Institute would be the worst decision he’s made all day, which is saying a lot. Time to fake it. Luckily, Tim’s good at that. He switches on his most charming smile. “Hi! I sure hope so. I’m looking for a Christmas present for my sister.”

Is it Tim’s imagination, or does the man he presumes to be Daniel Rawlings relax, just a fraction? “Bit early for that, aren’t you?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t know if you’d have something on hand or if I’d have to wait for you to get something in or bring something in,” Tim says, waving at the assorted animals. “I mean, she’s kinda picky sometimes. I don’t know how this works.”

“Ah. Well, let’s see what I can do to help you.” The man extends a hand and grins. “I’m Daniel Rawlings. And you are…?”

“Nick DiAngelo.” Tim Anglicizes his grandfather’s name; it feels safer than giving his real one. He accepts Rawlings’ hand; it’s cool, hard, and very dry.

“Mm.” Tim can’t tell if Rawlings believes him or not, but he shakes his hand and lowers it. “Well, all of these pieces are for sale, unless you brought something in. You’re not a…hunter yourself, are you?”

Tim doesn’t like the emphasis Rawlings puts on hunter, but he keeps up his smile. “Nah, not my thing. Never been one for guns or the like. I like my nature alive.”

“But your sister doesn’t?”

“She’s an animal lover, but she can’t have pets at this new place she’s moving to. So, stuffed it is.” Tim waves a hand at the room. “Don’t think there’s room in her flat for a whole moose, of course, but…”

“Of course, of course. Well, feel free to look around and see if anything catches your…eye.”

Tim manages not to react to that word. Instead, he, smiles again and ambles towards a shelf full of squirrels. The animals’ eyes seem to follow him as he walks, and he knows Rawlings’ eyes follow him, too.

“So how long have you been doing this, anyway?” he blurts after a moment, turning back to face Rawlings. “It must have taken ages to do all this.”

“Oh, I inherited it,” Rawlings tells him. “An old friend of my father’s left it to me. Apparently he didn’t have any other family.”

Mentally, Tim ticks off the first item on the list—the stories tally. Which, well, of course they would. “Do you like all this?”

Rawlings shrugs. Tim tries again. “You’re lucky, you know. Falling into a business like this. I’ve been having to work my way up from the bottom. Is it hard?”

“Not so hard as it could be, I suppose.” Rawlings looks around him. “At least it’s a good, steady business. No heavy lifting.” He smiles. “I’ve got people for that.”

“Hey, are you hiring?”

“Hmm.” Rawlings tips his head to one side, studying Tim. A prickle of unease crawls up Tim’s spine. The man won’t make eye contact, but something about that regard unsettles him. “I think we might be able to find a…fitting position for you. If you’re interested.”

Tim pretends to consider it. “Tell you what. I’ll let you know after the new year? Got a big project I’m in the middle of now.”

“Of course. There’s plenty of time.” Rawlings smiles. “It’s not like the animals are going anywhere.”

Tim laughs, despite the creeping feeling of dread. “That would be…strange.”

The word slips out before Tim can stop it, but Rawlings laughs, too. He seems genuinely delighted, and even comes closer. “Here, let me help you find something that would suit your sister.”

He lights a cigarette. Tim raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you worried about these old things going up if you drop that?”

“I’d be desolate if they did.” There’s no doubt about it; Rawlings is dropping those words deliberately, but this time he sounds amused more than taunting. He either realizes Tim knows something, or he’s just showing off his own knowledge. Neither of which is good. “But no, they’re remarkably well-preserved.”

“That’s what they said about our uncle,” Tim quips. He does get another laugh out of Rawlings for that one. “How old are they, anyway? I know you said your dad’s friend did them…”

“He owned the shop. Many hands have worked these creatures.” Rawlings strokes the moose’s nose almost reverently. “Tell me, Mr. DiAngelo, what is your field?”

“History,” Tim lies easily. “Eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, with a focus on arts and industry.”

“Ah.” Rawlings still doesn’t meet his eyes, but there’s a glitter in them. “Then I think I have something worth showing you.” He gestures towards the back.

Tim’s not stupid, despite all current evidence to the contrary. He knows from the statement that the workroom is back there, behind the office. There’s a distinct possibility that he’s letting himself be lured into a deadly trap. But in keeping with his persona, and also in the interest of getting the information he needs, he says brightly, “Great! Lead on, then.”

If he survives this, Jon’s going to kill him.

The office is small, largely dominated by an old oak desk. Seated behind it is a petite woman with close-cropped brown hair, wearing a grey t-shirt and a light jacket, bent over what look like account books. Tim has a nasty feeling he knows who this woman is.

“Sarah,” Rawlings says, confirming Tim’s suspicions-slash-fears, “this is Nick DiAngelo. I brought him back to show him the skins…Mr. DiAngelo, this is Sarah Baldwin, one of my fellow employees.”

“Pleasure,” Tim says cheerfully. This is officially too much, but he’s got to see it through now. The smell of Death By Flowers is stronger here, and he remembers suddenly Melanie King mentioning in her statement that the Sarah Baldwin who did sound work for her Ghost Hunt UK episode had a sharp, faintly floral perfume, or something like that. He wonders if she’s been living here—so to speak—all this time, if the smell of the building has soaked into her skin or if it’s something that comes from her and Rawlings and whatever else might be part of all this.

“Hi,” Sarah says succinctly. Tim also remembers Melanie saying she was a woman of few words.

“Come look at these. She won’t mind,” Rawlings assures Tim. Sure enough, Sarah seems scarcely aware of their presence as Rawlings begins showing Tim the skins hanging on the wall. And if they’re genuine, if he’s telling the truth about their origins—and Tim has no reason to doubt him—they are impressive.

One skin seems to be missing, though. The man from Internal Revenue described a gorilla skin, alleged to be from the fifth century B.C., the oldest bit of taxidermy in the world. There’s nothing like that in this room. Tim’s not sure why that bothers him so much, but reluctantly, he has to admit that he probably shouldn’t ignore it.

“…And this,” Rawlings concludes, indicating a stuffed figure on the desk—a white hare in a waistcoat, “was part of the Great Exhibition of 1851. It helped drive Victorian England mad for the craft.”

Tim doesn’t like the emphasis he puts on mad, but since this is supposed to be his specialty, he says, “I am impressed. There was a lot of fantastic craftwork at the Great Exhibition. I saw a stereoscope card once while I was doing my graduate research, but I never dreamed I would ever see something that was actually displayed there.”

“Would you like to touch it?” Rawlings asks. “You can, you know. It’s quite safe.”

Tim tries very much to look like he’s hesitating out of reverence for the age of the piece and not because he wonders if he’s going to end up poisoned, sucked into an alternate dimension, or triggering a trapdoor to the mouth of a hungry monster, but he can’t actually think of a good reason why a historian would refuse to touch, well, actual history. So he reaches out, slowly, and runs his hand over the hare’s fur. It’s stiff and wiry, the effects of almost two centuries of existence, but still feels mostly soft under his palm. The body is solid and firm. If he didn’t know better, he would swear it has a heartbeat.

“That’s brilliant,” he breathes. Hopefully he still sounds awed and not terrified. He takes a risk. “Is this the oldest piece you have?”

“Wolf,” Sarah grunts, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the wolf pelt hanging on the wall.

“It dates back to the Middle Ages,” Rawlings explains. “We had one even older, but, well, it was stolen some years ago.”

“Stolen?” Tim is genuinely taken aback by this. “Did they ever find it?”

“No, sadly. It was never sold, at least not publicly, so who knows?” Rawlings sighs. “It was a gorilla skin, from Carthage. Brought over by Hammo in the fifth century B.C.”

“It must have been worth a pretty penny,” Tim whistles.

“Its value is immeasurable,” Rawlings says earnestly. “It means the world.”

Something about that phrase makes Tim’s blood run cold. Not it means the world to me, or to my dad’s friend, even though he guesses that’s a fiction. Just it means the world. Whatever that means, it can’t be good for humanity.

“Well,” he says, as sympathetically as he can. “I hope it comes back to you in the fullness of time.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will. If it hasn’t been destroyed…I’m sure there’s someone out there who knows where to look.”

Tim would like to go now, he decides. He’s pretty sure he has all the information he needs, and surely the Primes can fill in anything he’s missing. “I’m glad you showed me these. They’re really impressive. But I’m sure they’re well out of my price range.”

“Maybe,” Rawlings says. “But that could change. We’ll discuss that later, if you’re still interested in that job.”

Tim definitely does not like the sound of that. “I’ll be in touch about that. And I’ll be back for sure about something for my sister, once I’ve had time to…reassess things a little. You know, get an idea about her flat layout and what sort of thing would work best for her.”

Rawlings smiles. It sends chills down Tim’s spine. “Don’t be a stranger.”

He holds out his hand. As they shake again, for the first time, Rawlings looks Tim dead in the eye, and Tim realizes two things. First of all, the taxman wasn’t kidding; Rawlings’ eyes are as dead and lifeless as the animals’, and like theirs are made of glass, fixed in place where his real eyes should be. They should stare without seeing, but unlike Martin Prime’s eyes, which are still warm and expressive but stare right past or through you, these bore into Tim’s and he is one hundred percent aware that Rawlings can see him perfectly clearly.

Second…his eyes are glowing faintly, a deep and vibrant indigo, like they’re lit from within. Which is frankly beyond disturbing.

“I won’t,” Tim assures him, and means it.

He comes out of the office ahead of Rawlings and is about halfway to the door when it happens. The bell jangles again, and two men come in—two men Tim would prefer never to see again, dressed like deliverymen and crossing into the shop.

It’s Breekon and Hope.

One of them notices Tim and stiffens. “Hey, you.”

“What are you doing here?” asks the other, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Come to spy on us?”

“See what we’re doing?”

“What?” Rawlings asks sharply.

Tim bolts. He has surprise on his side and manages to get out the door before anyone can grab him, but unlike the man who gave the statement, he knows they’re not just going to let him get away. He considered a lot of possible fates for himself should he visit the Trophy Room, but somehow, Breekon and Hope turning up while he was there, and recognizing him, never occurred to him. Stupid. Stupid.

It’s a good stretch to the Tube station, and Tim expects every step to feel them on his heels, but either they can’t move as quickly as him or they’re not chasing him for their own reasons. Still, he hears a rumble behind him and doesn’t stop to check if it’s them or not. Instead, he sprints for the entrance to the station and leaps down the steps three at a time. He lands wrong at the bottom and his ankle buckles, but he shakes off the pain and manages to just make it to the train before it pulls out, which at least has the advantage of giving anyone who saw him come flying in a possible explanation for his hurry beyond “being chased by something out of a horror film”.

He collapses into his seat and catches his breath as the train pulls away, heading back towards central London. Once he’s breathing normally, he takes stock. His ankle throbs, but the pain is relatively mild. He’ll live and, most crucially, he’s not in the back of an ersatz delivery van…or worse. Tim honestly can’t say what he would have done if they’d caught him, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to think about it.

After a moment, he reaches into his pocket and checks for the recorder. It’s stopped, which might mean it cut itself off when the danger had passed, or might mean he hit the end of the spool, or might mean he screwed up and turned it off and it didn’t catch what happened in there at all. He’s going to have to hope he got everything, though, because no way is he risking playing this on the train. There are other people here, after all, although not many. He does rewind it, though, and he’s comforted to hear the length of its backwards spool. There’s something on it at least.

He makes the connection with seconds to spare; the Central line is a bit more crowded, so he ends up standing near the door, which does at least mean he’s the first one off at Sloane Square. He tries to hurry without running—the last thing he wants is to draw attention—but even now, he finds himself glancing over his shoulder periodically to see if anyone is following him. Luckily, it appears he’s managed to give them the slip. For now, anyway.

As he gets closer to the Institute, he slows up and tries to straighten up his appearance. The last thing he wants is to make it look like he had to run for his life, or might still be running. He’s got the tape if Jon doesn’t believe what he says, but maybe he’ll get lucky and he can avoid having to play it, so Jon—and Martin, for that matter—don’t have to know how close a shave he just had.

Yeah, right. And maybe he’ll finally get that phone call about his audition for Jersey Boys.

He’s still limping as he reaches the Institute and lets himself in the door to the Archives. For just a minute, he pauses when he comes in, wondering why they swapped out the light bulbs for novelty green ones…but no, he blinks hard and the lighting goes back to normal. Just the regular old Archives, rows of shelves littered with files, pod of desks in the work area, three people grouped around it. Tim’s not sure what’s going on, but from the looks of it, Sasha and Jon are sitting down and Martin is fussing.

Martin looks up as Tim comes closer, and his face goes slack with relief. “Tim!”

Sasha’s head whips around. “Are you all right?” she asks.

Tim tries for a grin. “I’m not dead.”

“Yeah, that’s not exactly comforting. You get why that’s not comforting, right?” Martin tugs at his hair in evident frustration. “Wh—” He stops and presses his lips together tightly for a second.

“You’re late.” Jon’s voice is soft but accusing. He gets to his feet and wobbles for a second before steadying himself against the back of the chair.

Suddenly worried, Tim takes a step towards him. His ankle chooses that moment to remind him that he’s already fucked it up and buckles under him, nearly sending him to the floor. He doesn’t fall far before Martin is there, catching him and half-dragging, half-carrying him over to his chair. “You’re hurt.”

“Master of the obvious,” Tim tries to joke, and then he sees the look on Martin’s face and realizes what’s going on. They’ve all realized that Martin has acquired the ability to compel people to tell him things, especially about how they got hurt or why they’re scared; he’s trying to learn how to control it, just like Jon and Sasha are trying to learn to control their new powers, but Jon Prime warned them already that it will be harder for them to not let it slip in involuntarily when they’re upset or stressed. Martin is trying very hard not to force Tim to tell him anything. It’s a courtesy Tim doesn’t think he deserves, but he swallows down on the guilt. “Just twisted, I think. No big deal.” He eases away from Martin and stands; it hurts a bit, but he’s at least able to do it on his own.

Martin lets him, but he’s still hovering, around both him and Jon. Jon stands facing Tim, looking grim. “You didn’t have your phone with you, Tim. We couldn’t contact you. It’s been two hours.”

Tim winces. “I didn’t realize I’d left it behind until it was too late to come back, and then I just…I thought I’d be back sooner. Sorry, boss. I’ll make up the time.”

“I’m not worried about the time, Tim!” Jon throws his hands up in frustration. “I’m worried about you. You were gone longer than you should have been, and we had no way of getting in touch with you, nor any idea where you were.”

“I—I was going to text you, but—”

“No, Tim, we didn’t know where you were,” Martin emphasizes. “Sasha tried to Know where you’d gone and gave herself a nosebleed. Jon tried and passed out! I-I finally asked downstairs, and all he’d say was that you were safe and on the way back, but that’s really not as comforting as he made it sound.”

“I know how you feel about…all of that,” Jon says, his voice sounding strained, “but we were worried. We were scared. Especially since…” He gestures at the files on Tim’s desk. “I wasn’t sure which one you were investigating.”

And Jon’s avoiding actually asking questions, too, out of fear of forcing Tim to answer against his will. They’re all better than he deserves, he thinks distantly, and it would serve him right if—no. He’s hurt them enough.

“The Trophy Room,” he says quietly. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out the tape recorder, which he hands to Jon. “Pretty sure I got the whole thing on there, but I haven’t had a chance to check.”

“The Trophy Room? The taxidermy shop in Barnet? The one we’re pretty sure is a stronghold for the Stranger?” Martin’s voice rises in pitch. “Are you out of your mind?”

“What were you thinking?” Jon says, clearly upset. “You’ve read that statement, you know how dangerous it is. If I had wanted someone to go there to investigate, I would have sent someone, and you would have been the last person I would choose—”

“I wasn’t going to let any of you go out there,” Tim argues.

“Tim, you’re already marked by the Stranger,” Jon says sharply. “Remember what they said? The marks make you a bigger target. It means they’re more likely to try something on you. That—whatever it was in the basement, the anglerfish thing—if Rawlings had opened the door, it might have lured you down. My God, Tim, you could have been killed and we would have had no idea where you were.”

If Tim did this to make himself feel less guilty, he failed spectacularly. He inhales sharply and tries to meet Jon’s eyes. For just a second, they seem to glow a vivid and vibrant green; Tim blinks and they go back to their normal brown. “I—I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about that, I just—all I could think about was that I needed to protect you all. I knew someone was going to end up investigating all this, we couldn’t get the truth over the phone, and I—I didn’t want to risk one of you going over there. I knew it was dangerous, but…I haven’t done enough, so I thought it had to be me.”

“Tim.” Jon’s jaw works for a moment, and then he just surges forward and hugs Tim tightly.

Tim hugs him back, feeling the tears pricking at his eyes. A moment later he feels the comforting weight and warmth of Martin’s arms around them both, but instead of making him relax, it just makes the tears flow harder. He doesn’t deserve this.

He must say that aloud, because Jon releases him and steps back to frown at him. “Don’t deserve what? What are you talking about?”

“This.” Tim gestures to Jon and Martin hovering around him, then to Sasha, who evidently was part of the hug, too, at least peripherally. “I didn’t—I fucked up, Jon. I shoved you all away and I made you feel—I was hurting, so I hurt you without any reason, and I—”

“We were all hurting,” Martin interrupts him, his face tight with sympathy. “And we all did things to hurt each other—”

“You didn’t,” Sasha points out.

“I could’ve stepped in any time, or spoken up about what was bothering me, instead of acting like I thought you’d hurt me if I tried,” Martin says. “I didn’t. I let myself class you all in the same category as my mother, and that isn’t fair to any of you. I know better. What happened this month between us is as much my fault as anyone else’s and I’m not going to sit by and act like I’m the victim in all this, because that isn’t fair to anyone. Including me.” He takes a deep breath. “We’re a team. We’re a family. We’re supposed to work together, right?”

“Right.” Tim swallows hard and wipes his eyes. “No more unauthorized field trips. Promise.”

Jon nods. “Thank you.” He glances at the tape recorder. “I’ll listen to this later, if you need me to, but meanwhile, why don’t you tell us what happened?”

Tim sighs. “Might want to sit down. This could take a while.”

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) #tma #the magnus archives #canon typical stranger content #guilt tw #implied past emotional abuse #tim stoker stop being a dumbass challenge

[bluedemon1995]

Stay True To Yourself!

I read a story about a girl whose boyfriend took her to a swingers party…but neglected to tell her! And of course, that story led me down a very strange rabbit hole until this popped in my head. Ummm, this one has a little bit of a more adult theme - so please read with caution! This is an alternate reality story- obv not canon.

Katie Holt sat in the car feeling a niggling sense of unease that she cannot dismiss as hard as she tries to shove it down. She tries to narrow down the cause, thinking and analyzing as is her nature. Is it because she hasn’t been dating Mark very long and he picked her up roughly an hour ago. In fact, if she was honest, this was probably the longest amount of time she’d actually spent in his actual company. Previously, it was mostly online chats then a couple of in person short lunch coffee dates. But they were maybe twenty minutes. Is it because they are going to a party and she typically does not enjoy parties? Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she’d know from this party, and she hates being dependent on anyone. She’d much rather rely on herself.

Regardless of the cause, she tries to shake off the feelings and enjoy the moment. Live a little in the real world like Allura said as she was helping her getting ready. Actually, if she was honest, this was the second novel experience of the day since having a friend come over and help her get ready for a date was a first as well. Yesterday, when she absently mentioned that she could not go to the movies tonight because she was going to a Christmas party with Mark, Allura got so excited. She immediately made plans to go shopping and offered to come and help me get ready. She was honestly more excited than I was but it was nice to have someone care.

Which was nice because her mom and dad had a work Christmas party to go to and her brother was on a date himself. It was nice for Allura to come over and help her out. In spite of the make up, dress and dating tips, she had a good time. Allura was only a couple of actual years older than but in experience she was decades ahead of her!

This year, partly due to their project at work, she’s gotten closer to some of co-workers or team. It’s been a nice change since high school and college where she was mostly alone except for her family and their friends. She loved feeling like people got her sarcasm, her references well, just HER. It was nice to have people who made her stop working to eat lunch or heck, even remembered to check to see if she left work for the day. Slowly but surely her team had become her friends.

Which all leads her back to a few moments ago, when Mark parked and got out of the car, stopping at the hood to wait for her. He looks impatient but whatever, she needs to take a minute alone to get her self under control. Her nerves hit a high point but deciding this was as good as it gets, Pidge stands and walks to the him, impulsively reaching out and holding his hand. It was dark and snowy, she definitely did not want to fall on ice as they walked up! How embarrassing!

He seemed surprised by her hand but quickly pulled her close, “Hey so, this is a special party and I’d really appreciate it if you kept an open mind, think of it as an of it as an experiment.”

Pidge felt like a five alarm bell was suddenly going off at the conclusion of that sentence. FUCK! What was he talking about?!? Why would he say something like that now? It was akin to setting a bomb and saying, do not look at the timer.

While Pidge is having an internal panic attack they walk in-no knocking just walk straight in the door. She doesn’t see anything right off the bat that concerns her. There’s a table where keys were thrown, shoes piled in the front hall and music playing. It was a really nice house, set in one of the fancier subdivisions of the area. Pidge was trying to keep calm but she was annoyed that he’d state something like that as they were walking in the door! What about beforehand so she could of decided?!? And he really didn’t tell her anything, which is worse than knowing.

He takes his shoes off, she does the same. Hesitating, he turns and pulls her towards the kitchen. “Drink? What’s your poison?”

Pidge sighs, beer seems safe and not like she’s going to be drinking much of anything after that bomb he dropped walking in. “Beer is fine, I’d like light if they got it.”

He nods and goes towards the coolers lined up along the wall. Pidge does what she does best, fades into the background and observes the room carefully. The lights seem dim and she could see out the patio doors that more people are out there by the pool. She squints, maybe it’s the just the glare…but are those people naked?!?

Mark comes back at that time with a draft beer which means I won’t be taking a drink of it. Why wouldn’t he give me a bottle or can that I could open myself? I’m quiet and watch Mark take in the party. I wonder who he knows? Suddenly, I look at a pretty girl in a Mrs. Claus outfit who comes up to Mark. She smiles brightly, and proceeds to lock lips with Mark, wow. She’s actually impressive with her ability to wrap around him like a snake yet keep her hand with her drink still, not spilling a drop. I’m actually impressed! My eyes dart around the room, trying to gauge what the hell is going on here. Why would he bring me here if he already has girl???

Finally she breaks off and slides over to me, “Hi, Danni with an I, wanna make out?”

I blink, rapidly, “Um, no, I’m good, but, uh, thank you for the offer though.”

She smiles, “Okay! If you change your mind I’ll be around!”

She flounced away and I looked to Mark, quietly questioning, “Exactly what kind of Christmas party is this? Why am I even here?!?”

He chucked, “It’s a swingers party and you can’t come alone. You NEED to bring a date, you know for the numbers. C’mon, this will be fun.”

I look at him feeling myself turn red. “Wait a minute, I bought a fucking new outfit for this?!? I put goddamn makeup on! You fucking asshole! Look, I could give two shits about what you do, honestly, we aren’t involved like that but why involve me? Could you not find someone else to bring? For fuck’s sake!”

Mark stared at me, having the NERVE to arch a brow, “Cursing really? You know swearing is for people not intelligent enough to come up with a better word. Besides, don’t be a prude, look walk around and find someone you find interesting or hot. There are a lot of people here, like it’s not that hard.”

I close my eyes and as bad as I want to hit him, curse him out, I refrain. Oh, he will pay, just later when there aren’t about a hundred witnesses who can fill out a police report. I take a breath and walk away, back to the front door. I look at the keys, but they all look the same, how would I know which is which. I guess I could take them all but what if someone wants to leave. I step out to the front steps.

Honestly, this could not have happened on a worse night. I can’t call Matt, he’s finally on a date with his current dream girl and my parents at that work party. I close my eyes, take a breath to reign in my anxiety that is sky rocketing and first I try Allura. But, duh, she’s at the movies with Romelle and probably turned her phone off. Shit. My eyes fill with tears but I refuse to let them fall. I take a deep breath, trying Hunk instead another coworker. Straight to voicemail. Shit he might be sleeping.

I look at my contacts and realize, I don’t have a long list of people to call. I sit and sigh, okay no matter how embarrassing I could always get an Uber. I schedule one but because I’m so far it will take about an hour. I walk around to the back and sit on a chair in the dark corner of the backyard. Sitting, I let my finger hover over the last name to try. Here goes nothing. Hanging up I text a short message. What the hell do I have to lose at this point.

I sit. And sit. I don’t know how many girls and guys I rebuff but something about a person not wanting to hook up makes people want to hook up with you apparently. Jeesh, in my real life, no one wanted to date me now everyone was trying to have sex with me. WTF?

Sighing I look at my phone, and crap, it looks like all my surfing has killed my battery. Suddenly a very naked Mark and a different Mrs. Claus come up to me.

Mrs. Claus giggles out, “Hey if you’re nervous, you could totally hook up with my husband. He’s the hot elf over there, standing on the edge of the pool and hot tub. It will be fun! Then if we like, we could continue next week!!” She giggles a lot and I try not to be rude.

“Thank you for that kind offer, but I’m good.”

She shrugs, “Sure thing baby, but aren’t you bored. Marky said you were shy and um, a novice. Don’t be afraid.”

Mark turns and Pidge can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Only for some guy in his boxers to edge into her space. “Darlin’, you-me-, it’s written in the stars baby.”

I groan, “Nope. You misread them, thank tho.”

Usually once I say no, they just move on. But nope, not this one. “Don’t be a prude. Sex is very natural. It’s elemental. It’s like essential. You need me baby!!”

Really, that’s his line? I shake my head no, but now we’ve got a crowd. I hear people interject how I’m falling into societies lanes and I must be a virgin because I’m sitting by myself. Then I hear people say I should be grateful and oh my gosh, yep, I’ve been transported back to high school. Except I’m not a self conscious kid anymore and I don’t give a fuck what they think about me. But, I’ll be damned if I don’t respond. No one pushes me or pressures me to do something I don’t want to. And I’ve never just gone with the crowd cuz it was easier, not then, not now.

I hear a roar and suddenly all attention is lost on me. I decided to leave before my temper actually erupts. I quickly move towards the gate to get the hell out of here. I’d rather walk home then stay here. Fuck Mark and his party. I might actually brainstorm with Allura and Romelle on a way to get back at him. Something embarrassing.

As I walk away I hear Mark yelling my name, “Katie! Katie! Don’t walk away! You need to expand your senses and life. Don’t be scared. There is so much I could teach you. Don’t be such a prude!”

Laughter.

Well fuck him. Now I’m pissed. I’m not scared. I just don’t want to do this. Yet, who does he think he is telling me what I should do. As if. And what if he did this to other girls, who weren’t able to say no? I turn around and calmly but loudly state, while looking straight at him, “Look, don’t act like I’m the scared one. Who didn’t tell me where they were taking me. If this was a scene I was into, fine. And believe me, I will sleep with whoever I want. I just don’t want to sleep with you nor do I have anything to prove to anyone. But if and when I see a guy or girl for that matter, that I’d like to fuck, then I would. So, shut up, cause Marky you’re just not it.”

I could hear murmurs and then Mark yelling, and his feet slapping on the ground. Ughhhhh. One thing I could be thankful for is seeing him naked, cuz ick. He has no muscle definition and oh my God, I cannot wait to tell Allura how he looks like he waxes cuz he has no hair anywhere on his body.

I turn to walk away and see a guy who I have HAD the luxury of day dreaming about striding towards me with an shit eating smirk. Well, shit, of course. My eyes closes but it doesn’t stop my from seeing him behind my eyes. His hair is slightly matted from his helmet which means the roar must have been his Harley. He has one of his many black t-shirts on with his favorite leather jacket over it. His jeans are well worn and faded not those designer ones that only look used. He has on his riding boots, which of course give him another inch or so of height. Which he loves. Opening my eyes I see him about 6 feet away and I see he still has his riding gloves on.

I determinedly walk towards him only to hear Mark scream, his feet slapping, or at least I hope it’s his feet. He yells, “Yeah right, you prude-like you would ever-“

I reach said hot guy and say, “I’m kissing you in two seconds. One, two.”

I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him closer to me. Except he doesn’t move, so I look up into his eyes and arch a brow, he arches his, which causes me to roll my eyes and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell when grins. With his hands on my hips pulls me into his hard body, throwing me off balance. I slip my arms around him lift my head and his lips slam onto mine. Ok, point proven. Yet, as I lean back to break the kiss, I feel two arms encompass me, hold me close and reposition me.

His mouth re-angles on mine, I feel myself lifted on my tip toes. Omg, the heat of his body is amazing. I didn’t even realize I was cold sitting out here but against his body I felt like was next to a heater. His tongue pushes past my lips and, well, I stopped thinking for a full minute, hell maybe minutes. It was that good of a kiss. Shit. His tongue stroked mine, made me shiver and then he nipped my lip causing a groan. I literally could feel him smile and I was going to move back when his hand fisted in my hair and he started to kiss my neck and holy crap! I think my knees buckled but it didn’t matter because he picked me up and my legs were suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands were supporting my weight but I think they were actually under my dress. My hands were in his hair and digging into his shoulder respectively. Well. Hell.

I don’t know how long that went on for when suddenly I hear Mark right next to us yelling, “That’s enough.”

Slowly pulling back, his gravelly voice questions, “Outta here or are we continuing the show? Just to be clear, I’m good with either decision.” He then arches that fucking brow.

Face flaming, I whisper, “Let’s go. Please.”

Eyes on me, he nods. “What’s asshole’s name?”

“Mark.”

Nodding he raises his voice, “Hey Mark, fuck off and if I ever see you again, you’re dead.”

A girl in just a string bikini bottom steps in front of us, drawing our attention. Her hand is gliding down her chest when she looks right at him, throatily murmuring, “Wanna upgrade?”

He laughs, “Um already did. Let’s go Pidge.”

He moves his hands and I lower my legs. He instantly laces his fingers with mine and pulls me to the path back to the front. “Keith! You can’t say that! You know about Mark being dead meat.”

“Just did.”

“Why, what, are you even doing here?”

As he places his helmet on my head and carefully tightens the straps, “I saw Shiro’s phone buzz, so I looked. It seemed like something that couldn’t wait. So here I am.”

Blinking I nod, “Okay. I said I had an Uber coming.”

“Saw, don’t care. I, um, didn’t like the idea of you being here when you didn’t want to be. So yeah, deal.”

“But why didn’t you respond?”

“I pinged your location to my phone and left. Didn’t think about it honestly.”

“What if I was gone?”

He shrugged as we approached his bike, which was on the lawn! “As long as you were safe.”

He then takes off his coat, slipping it around my shoulders, “Arms in, it’s cold when we start moving.” Eyes on her legs, fingers play with her skirt, brushing her thighs. “I can’t do anything about your legs though. Let me know if you need a break. We can stop as often as you need.”

I nod, and as we drive into the night, my arms tight around his waist, I can’t help but smile. Keith Fucking Kogane. Damn this boy can kiss. Maybe there is hope for my love life after all. I feel his hand cover my hand on his abdomen, squeeze and drift down to my leg. I squeeze him a little tighter and I know it’s just my imagination but I swear I can hear his laughter.

My hero.

#katie holt #keith kogane #kidge #alternate realities

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (4)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Every person on this planet has a different mentality. Some will laugh at all things because they always see the good side, others will buy French fries in the shape of animals or candies because they’ll have kept their children's souls. Those with a deranged mentality will be locked up in suitable institutions and those who are self-centred prepare as evil strategies as they are to reach glory and power. But do you know what's common to all of us? The sweet desire for perfection.

Ah perfection... A utopia for all of us, an invisible thing that everyone wants to achieve. Everything we do has to be perfect: our work, our schooling, our life, our family, our friendly relationships... We always want EVERYTHING to be perfect. And we are outraged, angry, sorry when a tiny drop of water overflows our vase of perfection. Danny is one of the best examples.

He calculates everything down to the smallest detail, analyses all possible situations, so that his murders are perfect. And so far, he's getting there! not the slightest suspicion, not the slightest, tiny evidence of his involvement in all these crimes. He could have been an actor given the talent to play the comedy he owns.  

But artists like him must know how to bow out and change places. And that's exactly what he's been thinking about since that night in addition to his next victim. To the point of falling asleep at his desk. He had turned what was to be used as a guest room into an office, with a sofa, in case tiredness prevented him from going to his bed.  

He rubbed his eyes before getting up and heading to the kitchen to make a coffee. He needed to have clear ideas and a clear mind. Then he returned to his office and glanced at the map while sipping. Red crosses were on it, indicating the cities he had already made. Next to the map was a table where most barred names were inscribed, that was none other than his “hunting table”.  

“Well, well... What's going to be my next destination after Roseville? Ontario? No... The Canadian cold is unbearable and then the snow may slow me down in my leaks. Houston? Tss no no no... I don't want to be executed.”

His gaze was on Florida, the state that saw him born. It would be a good idea and down there he could be FINALLY himself. To present himself as Danny Johnson and never as Jed Olsen. But his family lives there, his "parents" who throughout his childhood repudiated him and treated him as a trash. That's why he left, so does he really want to go back? Only the day his parents died. Danny shook his head with a sigh. He prefers to forget his darkest years of his life.

“I still have time to think about it. No one suspects me as usual. So, there's no need to rush my escape.”  

He looked at his "hunting board," including the names inscribed on it. Since the time he lives here, some names have come to mind, including Travis who is no longer of this world. The first in his list is none other than that dear Mike Harris. If Jed held back, Danny couldn't stand him anymore. Why all this? Because he thinks he's better than everyone else and can't stand the competition? Poor idiot that you're Mike, your ego will lead you to your loss and to tell you the truth you won't miss anyone.

Second on the list was Horace McKellan. That wretched rich man who threatened to close your business. A real jerk's face. Danny already smiles at the thought of sticking the knife in his stomach to eject his guts, dismembering him pieces by pieces, hearing his screams and begging you to stop ... Oh my God, what a pleasure it's going to be.

Other names appeared on this chart, people who were mostly had done anything wrong in particular and others who are real rubbish for society, even if Danny had nothing to do with it. Then as he went along, his eyes landed on a name... Particular. A person who made him ask a lot of questions. That person? It's you.

What was he going to do with you? An umpteenth victim with no interest or reason to kill you except for... have fun? Or keep you alive and make yourself... His toy? It's an idea that made him smile a lot and he already imagine you as his toy, his property, his little pet that he can frighten when and where he wants, without ever killing you.  

He put a question mark next to your name while waiting to decide your fate. Until then he has plenty to deal with. He took another sip of his coffee when he heard someone knocking on the door. He came out of his office, which he locked, and then went to the front door where he came face to face with Mr. Lawson, the owner.

“Mr. Lawson? Is there a problem?” He said.  

“oh no, nothing special! You are so caught up in your work that you forgot to get it back your mail. I bring it to you and I took the opportunity to retrieve the advertisements even though you put the label they continue to put you in the mailbox.”

“oh...Thanks sir, I must admit that with work, I forgot simple things like that. I’ve heard that you’ve got some problems with some tenants?”  

“oh yes! Those little hooligans on the 4th floor are always late on their rent, when I tell them, it's limit if they don't slam the door in my face! No respect! they should work more instead of doing nothing of their day!”

“Sure. Well, I got some work to do sir, good luck with the hooligans and... Take care of yourself.” Danny replied before gently close the door.

Then he throws his mail on his table, he doesn’t really care about all that stuff. He was about to return to study his next victims when his phone rang.

“Yoooooo Jeddy! How are you? I don't mind you, do I?”

“No, not at all Mattew. What’s going on? You're not working today?” answers Danny.

“Yes, but the boss makes a meeting with everyone. So, he wants you to take your cute little ass back to the office. And quickly, visibly it looks important. You know how the boss is when someone is late.”

“I see it too many times with you.” Laughs Danny “Tell the boss I coming right now.”  

He hangs up and took his belongings before locking his door. He walked to his car, opened it, went inside and drove towards the newspaper's office. he passed security and went upstairs to fall face to face with Mike. If there was one person he didn't want to see when he arrived, it was him.

“Mr. deigns to finally show himself... Come on Olsen, you're wasting our time. In addition to my nerves.” said Mike a little angry before entering the meeting room.  

Danny breathes deeply before entering too and close the door seeing that everyone is here. He notices Melina and Mattew talking in a corner and decided to join them, he needed to laugh a little and these two are real comedians. Mr Hembrook came in and shut the door making everyone silent. Then he goes to his chair and put some folder on the table.

“Well, it seems that everyone is here so, we can start the meeting. If I ask you to come here today, it’s because I've some big news for you. First of all, the head of the journalists' convention contacted me last night to find out if we intended to participate this year. I responded favourably and also told him that I would contact him again to give him the names of those who would go there. As you know, the reputation of the Roseville gazette extends a little further than our small town and if we could make ourselves known in other states, it would allow us to fill our newspaper a little more.”

“Great, boring convention is coming...I'm excited” said Melina ironically.  

“Ahem. Then I heard that a certain Richard Hoggins gives a reception in a few days to celebrate the signing of his new trade. All those rich people who break our feet will be there including Horace Mckellan. I know these two were working together, and I can feel the scheming in this story. So, in order to "cover" this reception I convinced Mr Hoggins to bring a small team from our newspaper.”  

“wow that's more exciting than the convention” said Mattew happily as Jed nods.  

Danny smiles wildly, maybe he can learn more about McKellan and found new preys if he goes there?  

“So, I need to know now who's going to go where to tell the organizers and Mr. Hoggins. I thought of Mike, Karen and Thomas at the convention. And for the reception ... I think Melina, Mattew and our little Jed would be the perfect trio.”

“WHAT ??” says Mike by failing to stun. “But Boss! This is impossible, I mean...Jed is kind of a newbie here. For a scandal like that, we need someone more...experienced more suitable. With all due respect, I think it's best for my team to take care of Mr. Hoggins' reception and Jed's go to the convention.”

“If I may say so...” starts Jed who surprised everyone: “As you said SO kindly Mike, I'm a newbie. But that's my strong point: no one will suspect me of spying or snooping if no one knows me. no one will pay attention to me and I can discreetly sneak into the crowd.”

“I like that mindset. You definitely convinced me kid. I'm going to make the phone calls. I'm counting on you to resent a great scandal.” said Mr Hembrook before leaving the meeting room followed by the others reporters. Melina and Mattew left too and when Danny was about to leave the room, Mike pushed him and closed the door, then stuck him to the wall, his arm at Danny’s throat.

“You're lucky we're in the office Olsen because I SWEAR to god, I'm going to kill you. But beware, by pushing me to the limit, you’ll quickly regret the consequences. I don't know what game you're playing, you little shit... but accidents happen much faster than you think.” He grunts before punching him in the face and in his stomach, leaving Danny on the floor as he leaves the room.  

Danny got up and wiped his nose with a hand gesture to make sure he wasn't bleeding from the nose, which fortunately for him was not the case. The rage grew in him, he wanted only one thing: to kill Mike there now, without worrying about what the others would say. But he couldn't afford it for the moment, he would grill his cover. He had to take it upon himself as Jed but Mike loses nothing to wait: Ghostface intends to return the device to him.

The rest of the day went relatively well even though Mike behaved like a real bastard towards 'Jed'. Luckily, he could count on Mattew and Melina to make it all more bearable. The trio headed to the exit, telling each other jokes, each one more stupid than the others. Danny shakes his head with a smile, they are unrecoverable.

“Hey, are we eating together tonight ? I know a small Japanese restaurant that will nail you to your seats at the end of the meal.” said Melina.

“Ha! No meal is consistent enough to nail me to my chair!” answers Mattew proudly.  

“I wonder how you eat so much without gaining weight. you could cause the loss of all the restaurants in town.” replies Melina with a smirk before laughing when she saw Mattew sulking. “What about you Jed?”

“Sorry, I would have liked to come but... I feel a little tired” he responds with a little smile.

“oh... Say instead that you prefer to go for a coffee at the Nebula... The boss is pretty cute. Maybe you should think about settling down with someone someday. I don't bother you with that. Rest well Jed. And get ready to play spies!” Said Melina before leaving with Mattew.  

Danny drives back at home thinking about how he’s going to kill that bastard Mike. So many things pass through his mind... He parked and when he raised his head, he saw you through your window, cleaning and tidying your home. He hasn’t decided about your fate but he’s got time. He doesn’t know you enough to make a decision.

He quickly went to his apartment to retrieve his bag which contained his camera. He wanted to stalk someone tonight, another potential victim who had done nothing to him, but that he's going to kill for one reason or another. Another trophy in his hunting board.

As for you, you can sleep peacefully. Your little star will continue to shine tonight. Until the devil in the white mask came to steal it...Or smash it down forever.  

***

(Finished! this time I wanted to focus mainly on Danny, on how he operates. Tell me what you think! I hope you’ll enjoyed it! And remember if you want to have a closer look of Danny, check out @arkkosun’s page!  His/her work is amazing! Also Check @sleepydaydreamz and @horror-ink’s pages! They're so great! See ya! )  

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[dannymayevent]

Congratulations to @ectofruitloop for completing the calendar! Thank you for all your hard work and making this a great event!

Fic is written for you by @phandom-phriend for your day 12 artwork: Gloves

*Blood, injury, mentions of past relationship and feelings

--

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

None of this should have happened, it just doesn’t make any sense.

But he’s right there in front of her, bearing the pain from all of her own actions like some kind of self sacrificing hero. Well, to an extent, he is. But that is besides the point. These events that lead them to this rooftop in the middle of the night should have never happened. But they did. So here they are in the moon’s light as neither can move, but neither can look away. In some ways this battle is more tense than all of the the others that came before it, even though this certainly isn’t a fight.

Valerie can’t help but to just want it all to end.

--

It all started this morning. Well, it really started when Phantom and his stupid ghost mutt got her dad fired and she was given the power to become the Red Huntress. But for the events that lead directly to the end, it all started that very same morning.

It is just another typical school day. The sun is warm and the breeze is cool, all sorts of students linger in the halls, avoiding going to class until the last minute. The noise of the hustle and bustle of late students gives a nice background noise as Valerie makes her way to her own class.

And that’s when her eyes locked with Danny’s.

She hasn’t spoken to him since…. Everything. Always avoiding being partners with him in class, making sure to sit at the other end of the cafeteria, and all sorts of little things like that to avoid direct interaction. It’s not like she doesn’t like him anymore, it’s just so hard being near something so dear that she isn’t able to have.

Not yet. Soon, but not yet.

But these moments when their eyes meet, well, she will only ever admit to herself that she adores them. It’s like a false sense of security that she is still with him, still part of their friend group. It makes her feel like those eyes can tell her everything that has happened, that they simply catch her up to speed as if she merely went on vacation and wasn’t actively avoiding the trio. It’s a lie, of course. But it’s a lie she will willingly fall for each and every time.

But then the bell rings and the spell is broken.

--

There have been no ghost incidents during the school day, so Valerie’s biggest fear was simply turning in her homework on time and avoiding the cafeterias “special” today. Pretty standard high school troubles for a student that no longer belongs to any group…

It’s after school where the magic happens. With no work at the Nasty Burger today, Valerie is quick to turn into the Red Huntress and take off above buildings, patrolling with her scanner for any ghost activity. At the start of her vigilante fight against the ghosts, she would go to every little thing that set her scanner off. While all ghosts needed to be destroyed, she found it… impossible to take down ghost cats or those little whisps floating around. They are small, harmless, so now she lets them be.

She can always come back for them later.

Nothing really happens at the start of her patrol, it’s simply an unusually quiet day. But rather than reassure, it just sets her on edge. This is Amity. And Amity is certainly never quiet. Something must be happening, plans and plots forming where she can not see. So that just means that the Red Huntress has to be ready for whatever is planning to attack her town.

That’s why when the sun begins to fade along the horizon, Valerie doesn’t return home like normal. She stays out, watching the sun start to set and the scanner on her arm with equal attention.

That’s when a larger red dot appears just a bit away from her, a stronger ghost than whisps or small animals, but weaker than Phantom. Could be the box ghost again, but there’s only one real way to find out for sure. So Valerie takes off in the direction of that little red light to a rooftop high above most of the city. It isn’t the tallest building in Amity, but the view isn’t one to look down upon. Normally the roof is locked and closed off, but when you can fly that sort of thing isn’t a problem.

The Red Huntress crouches on her hover board just under the roofs edge before peering over it. Standing there is none other than Ember. As the Red Huntress she’s never actually interacted with the ghost girl before. But Valerie is able to remember the time she paired up with Young-blood, and the time where all men had disappeared. She’s strong, a powerful ghost with a powerful weapon. And now she’s only a few feet away from Valerie. Only a few feet away from the new blaster that Valerie has just been dying to try out.

So the Red Huntress grabs the small weapon off of her hip and aims steadily. This would be for the good of humanity. Ember is a bad sort of dangerous that she just can’t leave running around. This is why the Red Huntress was even created in the first place: To take out ghosts that need to be taken out.

And that’s exactly what Valerie plans to do.

But when she pulls that trigger without the hesitation she would have felt in the beginning, the purple blast doesn’t hit her target like it was intended. No, instead with a blur of motion and color too fast for her to comprehend, none other than Phantom pushes Ember out of the way and takes the shot to the abdomen himself.

It’s a sickly sight. Thick green goo staining the roofs floor as the three of them stare at each other in shock. No one seems to be able to know what to do or say as Phantom just...bleeds onto the rough surface of the roof from the wound Valerie had caused. He doesn’t scream in pain to collapse, the other simply looks shocked at the events. Like he hadn’t expected taking the hit would actually hurt.

But when Ember’s eyes meet Valerie's, that shock is gone. Completely consumed by rage as her hair burns bigger and brighter than she’s ever seen before. Gloved hand tighten into fists as the musical ghost begins to storm forward. Valerie for her part, puts her own gloved hands up in a defensive position, both of them seeming to forget that they have weapons of their own they could use.

But before a fight could break out up there on the rooftop, one of Phantom’s gloved hands rests on Ember’s shoulder as he whispers...something to her. Something that makes the ghost loosen up and face turn more serious than angry. Like she was given a new mission, the fire haired girl simply nods before flying off.

Phantom then looks to Valerie, and when their eyes meet it sparks… something within her she can’t understand right away. Some sort of familiarity that she has never known to be in those greens eyes. Something so sad and raw that it makes her stumble off of the hover board and onto the roof, inching towards the ghost she had shot only moments ago. Something that makes her take her own mask off to show the vulnerability within her own face. Something that, just for a moment, makes Valerie see them as equals rather than enemies.

But Phantom can’t keep they eye contact for long. The ghost boy falls to his knees into a puddle of his own ectoplasm and clutches his abdomen tightly with both arms. He’s in pain in a way Valerie had never seen before. It strikes her that even though no sounds leave his lips, that it all just looks so unbearably painful. It just looks so hard for the other to even move. Honestly, she’s not even sure he can.

In a flash of blinding light, however, it is no longer Phantom that lays crouched before her boots. It’s Danny. Her Danny with his back hair and white shirt. Her Danny is who looks up at her as the green goo turns red in his arms as it slowly trickles from the wound to greet the green below him. It is her Danny that looks up at her with those same blue eyes this morning, only now holding pain and unshed tears.

In another flash of light, before Valerie can even begin to say anything, Phantom is the one in front of her now. But when he looks up at her, she can’t help but to feel that she will never be able to look into those green eyes the same way ever again.

“Danny…?” she whispers out. It wasn’t supposed to be a question because she knows that he’s Danny, but what else was she supposed to say? Sorry for trying to kill you all those times? And maybe even succeeding today? She doesn’t really want to think about it, much less say any of that.

The boy before her grimaces. “Surprise?”

The Red Huntress falls to her knees. She wants to stay there and just cry, to let it all out and scream to the stars that are now blinking in through the clouds. She wants to get her thoughts together and to understand her mistakes. But Danny is still hurt from the mess she caused, so instead of doing what she wants to do, Valerie lays the ghost boy down and puts pressure on the wound, using the shirt of her casual clothes to soak up the sickening green and ignoring the way it stains her gloves, her suit, her skin.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this

#dannymay2020 #tw blood #tw wound

[jessicajonesrp]

Another victim goes out in flames

It had been several days now since Jessica’s brother made his sudden and stunning reappearance in her life, and into her general understanding of his actual being alive. She still wasn’t quite used to this as reality. Every time the words or phrase “my brother” entered her thoughts or left her lips, it didn’t feel like she could be talking about her own life. It didn’t help that she had not actually seen him since he showed up at the door. Spoke to him, yes, briefly, because brother or not, Jessica was not a phone person. Texted him, yes, although not as frequently as she had the thought to do so. But she hadn’t actually seen him again. A part of her was almost worried that if she tried to make arrangements to, it would turn out that she had drunkenly dreamed or hallucinated the whole thing.

So when Phillip called, suggesting they go out for dinner together, Jessica was anxious even as she agreed. It was lame and probably stupid to stress out over going to dinner with your own brother, even if he had risen from the grave, sort of, and she hadn’t actually known him as her brother for over 15 years. But she was anxious, enough that she had to finish a few bottles of whiskey and hole herself up in her office to research her current case several hours before he was scheduled to come pick her up.

Yeah, apparently her brother was a gentleman. He had insisted on picking Jessica up, choosing where to go, and that he would pay for it too. Jessica didn’t know what the hell was up lately with the men she had been encountering. Luke, Danny, Phillip all seeming to know manners, being men in NYC, seemed more far fetched than Phillip’s semi resurrection.

So far the case against the death-fire doctors was slow going, but she had picked up enough information to begin drawing some interesting parallels. Each of the men who died had been hailed as especially accomplished and revolutionary in their field, and each had specialized in something slightly different- neurology, surgery, and orthopedic works. They didn’t primarily work in the same building, but all were located in the same general county, and Jessica had traced that each spent one day a week working at the same hospital. Each also were noted to do “volunteer” surgery and works, some of which were undisclosed to public in specifics. Jessica also had done enough interviews with family and coworkers to note that each had described the man as of a similar personality type- driven, ambitious, singular in focus, and very efficient at work, to the point of having little time spent on personal life matters. Only Dr. Heath White, the person whose death had instigated Jessica’s investigation, was married, and none had children. They were all definitely far too fixated on their work- possibly a factor in their deaths?

Jessica had also noted that although most coworkers had not known the men well personally, and none of the family indicated spending considerable time with them recently other than Karen White, each person she spoke to maintained that the doctors had not seemed suicidal. Secretive, yes, preoccupied, and driven to the point of unhealthy, but not depressed or suicidal.

She was pretty sure that her biggest break would be found once she had finished looking through all the files that Malcolm had managed to pull together from the hospital’s system, once he hacked into it. She had noticed just in a brief skim that the three appeared to all be involved in what looked like similarly filed cases, each which were assigned numbers rather than patient names or even preheadings of John or Jane Doe. Malcolm had told her in an email that the files he had retrieved had been very hard to get to, deeply hidden within the system and not accessible to most of the hospital employees for retrieval. Whatever it was that all three men appeared to be working on together, it was not something that they wanted everyone to know about.

She pushed aside her lingering theories and thoughts on the case as her a knock sounded at her office door. Standing, stretching, and taking a final swig of whiskey, Jessica stood to greet her brother, awkwardly making a gesture somewhere between an effort of a hug and a playful punch on the arm that ended up getting their arms tangled. She flushed, laughing uncomfortably, and then hugged him, marveling again at how very different it felt to do so now with him taller than she was than it had when he was still wearing super hero boxers.

“Hey,” she said somewhat redundantly, stepping back. “You got a car? Or are we doing subway or taxi? That’s what I do, mostly, if I can’t walk. I don’t like driving much. Guess maybe you don’t, considering our history.”

“Subway, if you don’t mind,” Phillip said easily. “I don’t have a car. As you can imagine, that makes moving difficult, so it’s lucky I travel light.”

“Oh, speaking of that, Luke says he probably does have a job for you, if you want to try it out,” Jessica said as she followed Phillip out the door, hands shoved into her jacket pockets as they made the way to the elevator of her building. “Might not be your dream job, it’s a warehouse job through a friend of his. But if Luke’s offering it, I’m sure the pay and hours are decent, and it’s a start, right? Better than part time.” She smirked. “Besides, you tell them you’re Luke’s brother-in-law, and they’ll be intimidated enough to treat you right. Or just tell them I’m your sister, I’m pretty sure a lot of people are more scared of me than him.”

“Yeah?” Phillip said curiously, eyeing her. “That’s ridiculous. I can’t imagine people being scared of you. The most scary thing about you is your makeup during your grunge phase.”

“Says the kid who wore the same t-shirt with a stupid cartoon alien on it for four days in a row until Mom forced him to change it,” Jessica shot back. “Yeah, it’s kind of a thing, people get scared of you when you kill people. Or when you knock them around or lift cars in front of them.”

“But that’s still ridiculous,” Phillip insisted. “Whatever you’ve done, or can do, you have good reasons for it. There’s no reason to be afraid of someone who does things because they’re right. You only do those things to people who earn it. And you wouldn’t have your abilities if you didn’t deserve them.”

Jessica eyed him, her brow furrowing. “I didn’t earn them, Phil. People don’t get superpowers because they deserve them, they just have them. Look at Kilgrave, did he deserve his? Besides, just because you have good reasons for doing things doesn’t always make it right. He thought he had good reasons for what he did, and he was a monster.”

She is twitchy now, as she usually is when the mention of Kilgrave comes up, and bolts out abruptly when the elevator lands in the parking garage of their building. Phillip puts a hand on her arm, apologetic.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to offend you. I just…I believe in you, that’s all. I think it’s pretty amazing, who you are, what you can do. And what you can do with it.”

“You sound like Trish,” Jessica muttered, rolling her eyes. “You guys should get along great, she’s always “ra ra, Jessica the super hero” too.”

Phillip’s eyes flicker briefly when she mentions Trish, and he shrugs. “Maybe. Doesn’t seem to me like we’ll have a lot in common, from what I’ve read about her. Drinking is one thing, but hard drugs? And she’s been to rehab more than a few times, right? They says addicts are liars, just by nature of the addiction. I’ve known a few, had a few as foster parents. I always questioned how much of what they said was real and how much of it was an act.”

“Hey, that’s not who she is anymore,” Jessica said sharply, his words cutting deep. He wasn’t just implicating Trish, but herself as well with his declaration, although he had dismissed alcoholism as being different than drug addiction. “She’s been out of that life for a long time now. Hell, between the two of us, I’m the one people should be less willing to trust.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Jessie,” he said, shrugging. “You’re her friend, you know her. I wasn’t trying to cut on her. I’m just telling you what my experience has been. Like I said, I had foster parents into drugs, and a lot of kids in the foster homes and group homes too. It could really make life hell sometimes, living in that when there’s nothing you can do to get out of it.”

Jessica, having come to a pause in her walking to face him in Trish’s defense, blinked, uncomfortable and guilty at his second referral to his experiences in foster home. Every time she remembered growing up privileged, with all her basic needs met if not her emotional ones, in the Walker’s home, she felt almost personally responsible to know that her brother had not had the same experience. She exhaled, looking away.

“It’s okay. So, um….subway. Let’s get to it.”

Jessica started to resume walking to the parking garage entrance, stopping as a weathered gray mini-van entered to let it pass and park. She rolled her eyes, recognizing it as belonging to the Morrisons, a couple who lived on her hall and whom she avoided whenever humanly possible. The Morrisons had six kids, and Jessica knew them to be foster kids not because of their variety of ethnicities but because of the multiple obnoxious bumper stickers plastered over the mini-van, each some variation of declaring Nicole Morrison as being a “foster mom.” It reminded her of the fuss Dorothy Walker had initially made over being an adoptive mother when Jessica first came to live with her- only in public, of course. Although the woman had barely spoken to her, the public declaration of being a foster parent, which Jessica viewed as an invasion of the children’s privacy, coupled with the strangely quiet nature of children whenever she passed them, had made her suspicious of Nicole’s motives for having them and just how she may treat them behind closed doors.

Whatever. She was just glad she hadn’t been stuck in the elevator with her.

She hurried her steps towards the entrance of the parking garage, wanting to avoid eye contact as she heard Nicole Morrison get out of her car and lock it, and definitely wanting to avoid any kind of forced small talk. She heard the woman’s heels clicking as she started to walk, presumably towards the elevator or stairs, and wondered what kind of mother of six kids still felt the desire to wear high heels, and noticed that Phillip’s softer footsteps behind her had slowed in pace. She was starting to turn back towards him, to order him or tease him about hurrying up, when she first smelled the smoke.

Jessica frowned, thinking at first that either Phillip or Perfect Foster Mom was smoking, which was not only something she hadn’t though either engaged in, but was also not allowed in the parking garage, as several large signs declared. She didn’t actually see the fire until Nicole Morrison’s shrill screams pierced the air.

Jessica pivoted sharply, the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing up in spooked recognition of what she was hearing. She recognized the sound of anguish mingled with terror. She had heard it too many times to ever be able to forget.

Nicole Morrison stood in between the rows of cars, writhing, arms flailing in panic. Her entire body was engulfed with flames, so brightly heated that Jessica could actually see hints of blue in the parts closest to the woman’s rapidly charring body. From over fifty feet away Jessica could still feel their heat, and the combination of smoke mixed with burning flesh made her cough, almost choking, before she forced her stunned, wire-tight muscles into action.

“Drop down! Stop, drop, and roll!” she shouted at the woman, but the woman was too far gone in pain and fear to probably hear or comprehend.

Jessica’s eyes darted, looking for some source of water, a blanket, a tarp, anything that might smother the flames, but there was nothing. It was a fucking parking garage, all she could see stretched before her was miles of useless vehicles. It occurred to her briefly that Dr. Heath White had also been burned to death in a parking garage, just before she sprung forward to try to help the suffering woman.

Tearing off her own leather jacket, she used it both as a protective cover for her hands and as a shroud over the woman as she pushed her down, then used her jacket to beat at the flames. It didn’t fully extinguish them, but they did reduce in volume enough for Jessica to be able to grasp the woman and roll her back and forth, smothering the rest. She choked, almost vomiting, when part of the woman’s skin peeled off into her hand, and tried to ignore the stinging burn of smoke irritating her eyes, throat, and nose. Her own hands were beginning to grow singed before she managed to fully put out the flames, but none of this was bothering her. Nicole Morrison had ceased making any sort of noise at all, not so much as a whimper, and what was left of her features and body was so horrific she barely seemed recognizably human.

Remember Phillip suddenly, Jessica tore her eyes from the woman that she wasn’t quite certain was even still living, barking out an order to him sharply.

“Phillip! Call 911, fucking hurry!”

But when she received no verbal affirmative, and whipped her head over her shoulder to repeat the direction, she saw that Phillip was nowhere within her view. What the fuck, where was he? Had he left? Had he been so frightened he bolted?

She couldn’t worry about that now. Hands shaking, she fumbled for her own phone, then, remembering it was in her jacket pocket, cursed vividly, reaching into the badly damaged garment for it. The phone cover and screen were burning hot to the touch, but otherwise appeared possibly still in working order. She dialed 911 with still unsteady hands, explaining the situation in a voice she didn’t quite recognize as her own, then looked down at the woman she was still kneeling in front of, knowing even before checking her pulse that she was dead.

Eyes tearing in what Jessica told herself was entirely due to the smoke, she stood, backing several feet away, and dialed Phillip’s number in between coughs. When he didn’t answer her, she dialed him again, then a third time, until he finally picked up, his voice almost as small as the child Phillip’s that she remembered when he said hello.

“Where the fuck are you, where the fuck did you go?!” Jessica almost screamed, the hand not holding the phone clinching into a fist and accidentally breaking the skin of the blisters forming on her palms.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice still small, shaken. “I just…that woman, and…it was just so…I haven’t seen anything like that. The way she sounded, and the smell…I’m sorry Jessie, I couldn’t deal. I couldn’t do it.”

“You ran away? You just left?” Jessica said, incredulous, although this was what she already knew to be true. “How could you just leave her dying like that?”

“I’m sorry….I couldn’t deal with it, it was….I couldn’t be there,” he whispered, taking a shaking, audible breath. “I couldn’t have helped her. I knew it, and I guess I just…I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“It’s…it’s okay,” Jessica exhaled, the action invoking another coughing fit for a few seconds before she could catch her breath enough to continue. “Don’t…don’t do that again. Just…just go back to where you’re staying, okay? We’ll have to do this hang out thing later. I have to stay with her until the ambulance come. And probably the fucking police too. Fuck.”

She hung up, breaking into another coughing fit, and leaned back against the wall of the parking garage, as far from Heather’s body as she could be while still being able to see her. Closing her eyes briefly, she fought off a threatening panic attack for several minutes before dialing Luke’s number.

“Luke,” she said, her voice hoarse and strained, and interrupted with another cough. “I need….I need you to come to my office. No, not there, I mean the parking garage to it. I’m about to be asked a shitload of questions by the police, and I may need a lawyer.”

#luke cage #luke cage roleplay #jessica jones roleplay #jessica roleplay #jessica jones

[oliveiraveiro]

find an escape

part 2 of 3 of The Weekend

Open Heart, Rafael x F!MC

series summary: Casey and Rafael try to face their respective feelings and be honest about them to each other. With Sora in the picture, what can happen in short three days? What will happen after?

chapter summary: Casey and Rafael are definitely not dating.

tags/warning: pining, eventual happy ending, fluff, rafael x sora, emotional cheating

word count: 2043 / ao3 link / part 1 / part 3

Saturday night.

“She’s right, you know. Our situation isn’t exactly the prettiest.” Casey glances at Rafael.

They were now seated at a bench outside the hospital, Casey toughing out the cold air because the alternative is taking Rafael’s jacket.

Having his scent that intimately close to her when his girlfriend is already mad at them, she knew that was the last thing they needed. But even at a distance she smells his cologne and aftershave, and it was so familiar that too many memories flood her mind all at once.

“We’re friends. What’s not pretty about that?” Rafael interrupts her thoughts about needing to be strong to not give in and end up embracing him.

“Exes shouldn’t be friends, Rafael.” Casey sighs. “At the end of relationships people should be resenting each other. If not…” she trails off, looking away, embarrassed.

“If not…?” Rafael urges after a moment, only looking at her more intently.

“If not, then they haven’t moved on. Or…doesn’t want to.” She continues, only looking ahead, letting out another breath.

A beat passes, both of them silent. “You- you really think that?” Rafael asks after another moment and he bites on his bottom lip.

“I do, Raf. Because…I haven’t moved on from you. And I don’t want to because I want to keep you in my life.” She finally meets his gaze, smiling a little, but evidently serious. “What’s your excuse?”

“Like I said before, Casey, I still care about you--”

“I know, Raf. But you can’t, not anymore. Even more now that your girlfriend is obviously unhappy about it.” She interrupts.

“Are you saying we shouldn’t be friends anymore?” he asks, frowning and already looking sad.

“I’m just saying… maybe that’s for the best. This whole ordeal tonight, Sora kissing you like that in front of everyone… she means no harm. She did it only because she doesn’t want to make you choose between her and a friend, and with jealousy and alcohol mixed together… Well, it’s probably the only way that made sense to make sure I remember you’re hers.”

“You don’t have to defend her, Casey. It was inappropriate, and I… I’m sorry that she was disrespectful. I- we weren’t… doing anything wrong.”

“Weren’t we?” she looks over at him again. “Because my heart still skips a beat whenever you smile at me. Maybe that’s too obvious than I thought.”

Indeed, there are a plenty of times Rafael catches Casey blushing at something he says. But does that mean anything? Because he knows his eyes light up whenever he sees her beautiful smile or she says something funny, and he smiles too wide his cheeks hurt whenever she talks so passionately about something. Or…basically about anything, really. Do those mean anything?

Slowly, it dawns on him, and he starts to feel a sense of impending danger in his stomach. He used to think confronting Casey is the thing he is scared of the most, but confronting his feelings about Casey? Running into a burning building is easier than this.

“Listen… Sora’s been waiting for you for a while now. And I should get back inside soon.” Casey finally gets up, wrapping her arms around herself. “I still care about you too, Raf, but that includes me not being in the way of your relationship. We don’t-” her voice breaks. “We don’t have to avoid each other, but I don’t think we should be too comfortable spending time together either. It’s… for the best.”

I’d say you’re convincing me and not yourself, but I know better. Rafael takes a long shaky breath, standing up after her. “You’re saying…”

“I’m letting you go.” There is no mistaking Casey’s shining eyes. She does her best to blink back the tears, to no avail.

Rafael quickly moves to pull her into a tight hug, and Casey only tears up more at his warm embrace. She hugs him back as tightly, making the moment last. His scent, the feel of his body against her, the way he absentmindedly rubs her shoulder with his thumb: it all intoxicated her. If only she can stay in his arms like this forever.

“It’s my turn to talk. I’m not letting you, Casey. You’re right about a lot of things, and I have just as plenty to apologize and make up for, but this is not where we’ll end. Not when we broke up a few months ago, and not tonight.” He finally says after a long minute.

She starts to pull away, shaking her head. “Please don’t make this harder--”

“Trust me, Casey.” Rafael meets her eyes with pure determination that she does not dare insist otherwise. They can talk again, someday. Soon, hopefully. Tonight is already a real breakthrough, she doesn’t need to push it more.

“Okay, Raf. I trust you.” Casey need not to lie, and she smiles as Rafael smiles at her, her heart doing the familiar skipping.

He leans in close, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her forehead. Casey can only smile more and close her eyes, letting herself forget everything for a moment and focus on Rafael’s soft lips and his somehow warm hands holding her face. She takes more than a moment in his arms again, but it still feels too short as she starts to pull away.

She puts up a brave face. “Go get your girl.”

He takes her hand, affectionately kissing her knuckles. I will, Rafael thinks only to himself.

Sunday morning.

Casey is usually high-spirited during Sundays. At this day of the week she already had fun, and she will only spend the day to get more rest and relaxation. It is the perfect day to get her mind back to work so she is ready to face new cases and patients.

This particular Sunday, however, all her thoughts as she drank her coffee are about Rafael. This somehow feels worse than their breakup, because there is no staying friends anymore. No more spending time with him, no more stealing glances at his beautiful face, no more giggling to herself at something he says that is not even that funny.

Halfway through her drink Casey hears the doorbell. She peeks at the living room, but her roommates are not there anymore. She could swear she already saw Jackie and Aurora reading on the couch. She gets up from the dining chair, heading to the door.

She expected to see Bryce behind it. It might also be Phoebe, or Danny, or maybe even Farley. But it was someone she did not expect at all: the subject of her woes, none other than Rafael.

“Raf? What are you doing here?” Casey asks, noting the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

“Getting my girl.” Rafael gives her a smile. “Uh- trying, at least. I know we still have plenty to talk about.”

Casey can only let out a soft laugh with all the thoughts she was just having. She knows it can only mean that he and Sora broke up, and while he is very welcome right now she also knows nothing about this will be easy. But she’ll be damned if she lets him go one more time.

“Come in, Raf.”

Sunday evening.

Dinner.

They both agreed that they were going to take things slow. So this is not a date, just a simple dinner, Casey reminds herself despite their holding hands.

She is looking down at her hand intertwined with Rafael’s, while he is not letting his eyes leave her face. At the moment he is just staring at her forehead, but he does not want to stop looking at her beauty, as if she will disappear if he does.

“It’s a little funny, isn’t it? You took me here on our first date but we’re also here on our first not-date.” Casey finally meets Rafael’s eyes again, and the excitement in them as their gazes meet is now hard to miss now that she is not just stealing a glance. She almost giggles at how attentive he is being, cheeks flushing yet again at his intense stare.

“Hold on… wasn’t our first date in a helicopter?” Rafael asks after a few seconds of being lost in Casey’s eyes.

“Well…no. Not the official one. You were on the job, and I was too, technically.” Casey reasons.

“Not the official--” He trails off and gapes in dramatic disbelief. “You think I bring just any doctor with me for a helicopter ride around town?”

Casey laughs softly. “That’s- okay, that’s a good point. I really appreciated knowing about your uncle and your love for the community in that quote-unquote date. But…I’ve always thought that our first dinner is much more special. You really went out of your way to cheer me up.”

“From the moment we met I’ve had this voice in my head telling me I had to do what I could to make you happy. I’m glad I listened and continued to.” Rafael smiles. “Until- well, you know.” He sighs softly, frowning a little.

“Hey,” she gives his hand a squeeze. “Sora was your first love; I understand that now. And it’s normal for everyone to have baggage from their exes, you know? What is weird, actually, is if you didn’t.” She grins, trying to keep it light, but his face still expressed guilt.

“It’s no excuse. Look at us now, I’ve only hurt you both.” He frowns deeper, but also takes her other hand in his. “I promise you, Casey, I’ll do everything to make it up to you. I know we still have to figure a lot of things out, but--” he swallows, taking a few moments to himself, gathering courage. “I love you, Casey. I know and I’m sorry it’s a little too late to realize that, but I do. I assure you I’ll do better by you.”

Casey can feel her chest tightening. This got very intense very quickly, and her feelings are getting the best of her. Just how often did she fantasize this exact moment? She worried for a second that maybe this is one of the many scenarios her brain came up with, but the warmth of Rafael’s hands around hers is all too real. His scent, his cologne, his shampoo. He’s here.

She cannot speak a word, nor think a thought; her mind overwhelmed because the man she thought she would never get to hold like this again is right in front of her, telling her that he loves her too. Not wasting any more time, she grabs his face and kisses him.

When Rafael broke up with Casey, she was not able to give him a final kiss. She barely remembers the last time they shared a passionate kiss, but she is absolutely certain right now that this kiss puts all their other kisses to shame. Yes, this second first kiss is even better and more exciting than the one they shared in a free fall from a thousand feet up in the air.

Their feelings poured into the kiss are obviously pained but there is also excitement and it is completely full of love. In short, perfectly intense. It feels…right, and Rafael is sure he will never again doubt staying by Casey’s side.

He pulls away, also holding her face with a hand, grinning as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. He has never felt this way about anyone in his life ever, even with Sora then and now. His mind keeps on repeating how absolutely sure he is about Casey.

Not knowing what his too-happy smile meant, Casey makes a small face. “I’m sorry, I know we said this wasn’t a date--”

Their mouths meet again in a kiss, this time Rafael initiates, and it is her turn to grin as they pulled away. “Okay, I’m still not sure if that means this was totally a date, but for the record, I love you, too.”

He smiles despite his heart skipping a beat. God, how crazy is he about her? It was almost embarrassing, but she loves him back. Despite everything, she loves him, and he loves her. That is the only thing that matters.

“I love you, Casey.” he repeats.

“And I love you, Rafael. So much.”

#sorry this took forever #the epilogue probably will too sdksd #choices open heart #open heart #open heart fanfiction #rafael aveiro #rafael aveiro x mc #rafael x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices

[merci-bitch]

My Precious Sweetheart

Rose The Hat x Fem!Reader

Waning(s): blood, swearing, angst

Genre: Angst

Words: blood, swearing, angst

A/N: This was quite fun to write. Specially with the gif that helped a lot. This is quite angsty and well, emotional but deal with me. I changed it a bit but it’s quite good. I love this so much. I dedicate this to my dear friend @kileyrose-2003​ because some idiot almost drove into her car and because she’s having trouble with tumblr. Love ya!

“Rose! Please come out if your hiding spot! This isn’t fun anymore. I don’t care how much you’re gonna tease me, this isn’t fun. I am scared. You know how I hate this! Please, can’t we just go home? I’ll, massage your shoulders, back, feet anything!”

 I felt a shiver of disgust run through me as I said ‘feet’. Rose and I had been playing hide and seek all afternoon. I know, very grown up but it really was a fun game but not for someone who’s scared of the dark. Well, not really the dark but rather said the feeling of not being alone in the dark. I had all bunch of phobias really. I hated clowns, anything to do with clowns. I couldn’t stand to have sticky or dirty hands. Rose and the others would always make fun of me for it. Whenever we ate hot wings, despite not being a rube anymore it was still very good, I would always wear gloves because I couldn’t help but whimper if I had sticky hands. It’s always been like that. You could call me the ‘little sweetheart’ in the group. I was always too kind to everyone and everything. But back to the phobias, I hated when someone would chase me. Barry would sometimes just start running after me. That was one of the few things Rose took seriously because of my childhood. I’ve had quite the childhood. Being in foster care, jumping from one abusive family to another and being chased everywhere I went. So whenever Barry would chase after me Rose would tackle him to the ground and basically threaten to kill him. This didn’t stop him doing it though. I had gotten used to it, not the fact that I almost have a heart attack every time he does it but that he does it. 

I was quite scared of being left alone. I always panic if I can’t reach out for someone. If I can’t see someone I know a few feet away. I guess it’s from my childhood as well. Being left alone that much and being rejected for being ‘different’ then others. That’s when Rose found me. She took care of me when no one else did, when no one else cared. She was the person I turned to when I didn’t have anyone else. The person who would always ask if I was feeling alright, if there was anything she could to. I owed my life to her. I really did. 

I kept walking further into the woods, looking for Rose. Fee,I gotta my anxiety raise as everything just became darker and darker. “Rose! Please, I don’t wanna okay anymore!” I shouted out into the air. If I knew Rose right, she was probably back at camp. Laughing with the others while letting me get lost in the woods. It was getting quite cold and I didn’t have my jacket. Crossing my arms, rubbing my arms to get warm as I continued walking in the woods. I wouldn’t call myself Rose’s favorite. But I did have a strong bond with her. She always kept teasing me and stuff. When I was 17 I lost my virginity to her. I know this sounds weird and all but I couldn’t think of anyone safer to do it with. Now that I’m 22 I know her, or at least I think I do. She tends to know everything about me but I’m only one third of knowing who she is. She would sometimes be a little overprotective over me. I was an adult, I could take care if myself but she always kept saying she loved taking care of me. Because I was the groups little sweetheart. The precious angel. 

As I continued to walk it was as if I heard someone behind me, someone running? “Rose, I swear to god. Please just come out!” No response. Rose wasn’t the one to just give up like that. But I was genuinely scared, I knew I was lost and it was dark and cold. I heard three branches break, and the footsteps coming closer. I started to panic. Why was she running towards me? She knew I couldn’t stand it when someone ran after me. The footsteps came closer and closer but then, stopped. It was quiet for some time before I felt a Han don my shoulder. Thinking it was Rose I turned around with a smile of relief planted on my lips on,y to meet with a man. A man wearing a clown mask filled with blood. My eyes went wide and soon enough I felt a bag being pulled over my head.

———

Rose was standing behind one of those big oak threes. Laughing quietly to herself as she heard Y/N screams of desperation. Begging her to come out of her hiding spot. But then all of a sudden, Rose heard a different kind of scream. One she’s only heard when she first found Y/N. A scream of terror. Rose has never ran so fast as she did that night. That night when she lost the love of her life. That one little spark she never thought she would find. The night she lost the person who would always set a smile on her lips whenever she was down. 

As Rose got to the place where she heard Y/N’s scream there was nothing there. Only Y/N’s one shoe. And that shoe was filled with blood. Not knowing it was Y/N’s blood or not Rose let out a scream. Shouting for her sweetheart. Shouting for the gods above and praying that her girl was alright. Praying that she would find her and bring her home safe from whatever thing she was witnessing now. Rose sat there, crying over a shoe. Rose never cried. Never. Rose never showed her emotions either. She was a strong and powerful woman and a great leader for the True Knot. The rain started to pour down, and that night where she had lost her sweetheart was soon over.

9 years later

I woke up with a smile on my face. For the first time in a long time. I don’t remember why, but there was just something bugging me. I guess it didn’t matter. Something you don’t remember doesn’t matter right? Anyways, I got dressed and ate breakfast and turned to walk towards the door. Checking myself in the mirror one last time. Making final touches on my shirt, brown hair. Messing with it in the mirror. Laughing afterwards and then walking out, locking the door behind me before walking downtown. Enjoy the nice weather and feeling it as a nice day. 

I walked into my favorite café and order a coffee macchiato and sat down by the window. Reading the book I had brought with me. After some time I felt someone’s presence in front of me. I lowered my book and saw Dan sitting in front of me with a big smile. “Dan! How lovely to see you!” I got up from my chair and gave him a hug before sitting down again. “Its lovely to see you too Y/N” I gave him a smile. “You want anything? A coffee, tea? I’ll order it for you.” Dan shook his head as he took ahold of my hand. “You are always such a sweetheart Y/N. But no thank you, I’m good. I was wondering if you wanted to do me favor” I gave him a smile and nodded my head. “Of course! Anything for a good friend!” Dan sat quiet for some time before I heard it, 

(Will you come with me and Abra to you know where)

(Why would you wanna go back there Danny? And with a kid?!)

(Hear me out Y/N. If the place is dangerous for people like us maybe it is for her too)

(Who is ‘her’ Danny? What’s going on here?)

(I can’t explain it here. She could already be here and she could be listening)

(Listening? You mean she’s one of us?)

(No. Not like us, more powerful and dangerous)

(I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going Torrance)

(You might know her. Her name is Rose, ring a bell?)

I thought for moment but it sounded familiar but I couldn’t really think of anyone I knew. 

(Not really, why?) 

(She’s the one we have to keep us from. She’s the Queen Bitch of Castle Hell. If you mess with her she’ll eat you alive) 

(Thank you for that marvelous introduction Danny.) 

Both me and Dan tensed up. Who the hell, how the hell. We both started looking around but we didn’t see anyone that looked suspicious. I turned back to Dan, a scared expression was planted on my face. “Dan, I’m scared” 

(Did I scare you sweetheart? Oh you poor thing)

I closed my eyes and held my ears, trying to block out her voice. Dan took ahold of my hand and dragged me out of the café, running towards the car. I could still hear her laugh inside my head as he drove away. Abra was sitting in the back and she kept asking what had happened but neither of us answered her. Both still shocked. 

We arrived at the hotel after a very long car drive. Dan had gone inside to wake the place up and Abra was sitting inside the car while I was outside. Taking a break, stretching. I couldn’t help but think over her name and voice. It sounded so familiar. As if I had heard it before. I closed my eyes and started to focus, trying to dig into the back of my head. Trying to find something that could link me with her. Anything at all. Just as I had given up I started hearing her voice again. It as strange. It wasn’t as if she was here, I could hear my own voice after some time. 

‘Darling you have to be careful!’

‘Rose, I’m not a child! I think I can shot an animal myself’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just worried you’re gonna hurt yourself’

‘I won’t! I’m a big girl!’

‘I know. And I love you Y/N’

‘I love you too Rosie’

Images started flowing my mind. Images I never thought I would see. Images of Rose naked, sweaty and how her eyes were filled with pure lust. How her body moved against mine in a special rhythm. How her mouth would form those 3 words over and over again. 

I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Abra scream my name. “Y/N! She’s here, come on!” I looked up and saw Abra standing by the door with Dan. I was sitting in the snow, hands shaking from my shocking discovery. I slowly got up with Dan’s help, feeling how my legs felt like jelly. We walked inside the hotel and made it to the main hall. Abra and Dan walked up and stood on the stairs but I stayed by Dan’s fathers desk for some time before joining them. I couldn’t think straight. Was all these things I’d just seen true? Or was it just pure imagination? 

——

Rose walked inside the hotel. As soon as she entered by the door she felt it. Not only a strong power but a familiar smell. Rose looked both ways before deciding to go right. After walking for sometime Rose stopped and looked to her side. All of a sudden blood started coming out of the elevator. That’s when Rose knew. 

‘She’s here’

Rose whispered to herself as she couldn’t contain the smile that was forming her lips. She continued walking until she reached the main hall and saw her standing right there. 

——

Soon enough she was standing right there. In front of us. A devilish smirk planted on her lips. I had never felt more nervous in army whole life. What if she could just look into my mind and see everything? 

“Well, well, well, hi there!”

Rose said as she leant up against Dan’s fathers old desk. That’s when I heard Dan say 

(When this starts, run)

“Yes you run dear. And then I will find you, and you will scream for years until you die” Rose’s voice was low and raspy. Her fingers lightly traced the old writing machine. I hear Abra speak up, “We’ll see who does the screaming” and Rose’s cold response, “Oh, we’ll see indeed” 

“She’s right you know. You should be afraid” Dan said after some time. Rose leant her head to the side. “And why’s that?” Her eyes shifted from being on Dan to me. Her eyes started to scan my body. A satisfied smirk started forming itself on her lips. “Because you don’t know where your standing” Dan said as he held the ax tighter. Rose eyes tore themselves away from my appearance before answering Danny. “I-I’m sorry, who are you handsome?” I knew what Abra and Dan were gonna try and do. Something inside me felt the urge to stop them. And I did. “Stop!”

I stepped in front of both Danny and Abra, both of them looking confused at me. “Y/N! What are you doing?!” Dan said as a low whisper. I felt a hand travel up my lower back and a kiss on the inside of my neck. The familiar smell of roses and smoke filled my nostrils. “Because, Danny. She’s my precious sweetheart” She gripped my hand and locked our hands together. Dan’s eyes went wide and so did mine. “Y/N? What the hell?! Abra, run!” Dan said as he launched forward with his ax. Reaching out for Rose but I pushed her away, which ended up with me getting axed. Falling tot he ground, blood pouring out of me. The sound of someone choking was heard in the distance. Soon enough Rose’s reflection was hovering over me.

“Sweetheart, stay with Rosie. Keep those pretty eyes of yours open for me”

Rose said as tears started to fill her eyes. She finally found her long and lost sweetheart. She couldn’t bare to lose her again. 

“R-Rosie?”

Y/N said as her eyes started to fall shut, which lead to arise letting out a terrifying scream. 

“No! Sweetie stay awake!”

Y/N’s eyes fell shut in the arms of her one and only savior. Rose O’Hara. 

#rose the hat #Rose the hat x reader #doctor sleep

[melancholydreadfuldream]

Dreamer File 06

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

 Trigger Warning: sudden death of a loved one, drug overdose, suicidal, depression, homophobic mentioned.

 Warning: ooc, angst, bad grammar, plot holes (serious case of plot holes, guys, please don't chew me), etc.

 A/N: This one is very cringe-worthy but I thought I would post it anyway. I might edit it again if ever I would be hit with a better version of it. The villain here is based on Jasmine from Angel.

   You know how we always think we have more time in life with the people you love? Well, you're wrong. You have to make sure that you tell them every day that you love them and make happy memories with them. Because you've no idea when and where they would be ripped away from you.

 My name is (name) and I'm a traveller in time and space with the Doctor. I have been traveling with the Doctor on his twelfth incarnation and I was best friend with Clara. After Clara died, the Doctor never come back for me until after he has regenerated. And now he is a she. And she is so beautiful and amazing. I can't help but start to catch feeling for her.

 She invited me to travel again with her and her other companion, Yaz, Ryan and Graham. I love being with them. The Doctor called us her fam and our dynamic did feel like a close family.

 The only other family I have is my Dad and I love him very much. He raised me alone. My mom died after giving birth of me. It has always been the two of us. We have no one else. Mom and Dad were married without consent from their respective parents. They never went back to reconnect and their parents didn't bother to look for us either so...

 I wanted Dad to know who the Doctor is and I would really like to share my adventure with him. I hated keeping secret from him the first time around and now that I was traveling again with the Doctor again, I would like it for them to meet already. 

 My dad is a fan of Elvis so I begged the Doctor to let me tell my dad about what it is we have been doing and to request a favour from the Doctor to allow my dad one trip to travel the past and meet Elvis. The Doctor eventually agreed. 

 I told my dad about the Doctor and of course, he didn't believe me up until he saw the Tardis. My dad is concerned that the trips I have been taking will be dangerous. I have to lie that we are always safe with the Doctor. Of course, I know the Doctor can't always save everyone. Clara is the proof of that. But that doesn't deter me for wanting to see more of the universe that the Doctor offered. So I distract my dad with the trip to meet Elvis and I was glad to see him so happy.

 My dad has always known that I like girls so he could spot that I have feeling for the Doctor. 

 "Shut it, Dad, it wasn't like that. The Doctor is so out of my league. There is no way she would go for someone like me."

 "Now don't say that. You are a wonderful person. Any women would be lucky to have you."

 "Oh, dad, you're the only one who said that and that is only because you are my dad."

 "But it's true though, you are a wonderful person and you have to believe that yourself, dear."

 We hugged each other.

 "So what do you think?" My dad asked me as he showed his outfit to resemble Elvis.

 "You are very handsome, dad." I answered with a grin. "So, let's go meet Elvis."

 &&&&

 Now that my dad know what I have been doing, I felt less guilty for keep ditching him for the Doctor. Though now I get to brag about my adventures to him. We went to watch movie together the day after the Doctor dropped us all back on earth for a break from our routine adventure.

 And that is when thing turned ugly in a blink of an eye.

We are going home after the movie when someone threaten us with a gun, demanding we gave him our bag and wallet. Dad is trying to calm the agitated man down. I gave him my bag and prayed that he would go away. I didn't know what happen next, it was all a blur. Next thing I know my dad was shot.

 "Dad!! NO!!" I screamed as my dad fell into the ground. "Help!! Please someone help!" I yelled.

 The man who robbed us has left with my bag and my dad's wallet. He got what he wanted so why did he have to shot him?

 Such a senseless violence. One bullet and my dad is just gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

 &&&&

 I sat staring blankly at nothing. My hands was covered in blood, my dad's blood. I ignored the officers who are trying to get me to respond.

 Yaz, Ryan and Graham ran through the corridor until they spotted me sitting in a bench, still in a state of shock.

 "(name)!" Yaz called out and bend her knees in front of me. "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

 I glanced at her and tears started falling down my cheeks. "My dad is gone..." I whispered brokenly.

 Yaz hugged me close and rubbed my back soothingly. Ryan and Graham exchanged a sad look with each other.

 &&&&

 The Doctor finally come to see me. I know she was bad at social interaction. She didn't know what to do to console me.

 I suppose it was unfair of me to corner her like that but I wasn't exactly in my right mind.

 "Save him." I begged, no, I demanded. "Save my dad."

 "(name), you know I can't do that."

 "Why not? You did it for Clara. You got Danny Pink back for her."

 The fam is confused because they didn't know Clara or Danny but I do. I remembered what Clara did to ensure that the Doctor will save her boyfriend. I knew it didn't work in the end but the Doctor was willing to help her, even going to 'hell' with her to get Danny back. Why can't she do the same for me? I have been her companion a whole lot longer now. Don't I get special treatment too like Clara?

 "I'm sorry, (name), but I can't do that. Your dad's death is fixed."

 "NO."

 "(name)..."

 "Doctor, please save him. He is my dad. He's the only family I got. Please?" I begged.

 "I'm so sorry..."

 "Then what's the point of you?!" I yelled angrily. 

 The Doctor didn't say anything, only looking at me with a sad expression.

 I left them. The fam called out my name but I ignored all of them. I was in too much pain. Tears started to fall on my face again.

 &&&&

 I was depressed.

 After the funeral, I locked myself in my room. The fam contacted me by phone, left messages and even come into my house but I ignored all of them. The Doctor didn't come for me. I suppose she knew I needed the space away from her. 

 Honestly, I don't have any energy to do anything. I was a mess. And after the Doctor's refusal to help me get my dad back, I didn't want to see her either. I resented her. 

 It has been two months and I still have not sorting my life in order. I never go back to the Tardis. I think the Doctor and the fam went adventuring without me. But they still attempted to contact me from time to time.

 I just want to be left alone. I wish the world would just go away.

 There is insistent knocking on the door much to my annoyance.

 "Go away!" I yelled.

 More knocking.

 I had enough. I walked and opened the door, intending to give hell to whoever it is on the other side of the door. It was Yaz.

 "Hey."

 My anger is gone as I saw her hesitant smile. 

 It was awkward.

 "We miss you. The Doctor, too. Come back to the Tardis, (name)."

 "I can't."

 "You shouldn't be alone."

 "I don't have anyone now."

 "You still have us." Yaz said.

 I shook my head. "Just leave me alone. I'm done with the Doctor and everything." I said and closed the door despite Yaz's protest. I know what I said probably going to make her worry more about me but frankly I didn't care. Sooner or later they will just give up and leave me anyway.

 &&&&

 I overdose on my sleeping medicine. But the Doctor and Yaz rescued me just before I succumb to the darkness forever. Apparently Yaz has been persuading the Doctor to try to talk to me and she finally relents. Of course, they came on the day where I was at my lowest point in life and they saved me. But I didn't want to be saved.

 I distinctly remembered seeing the Doctor's face as she attempted to give me CPR while Yaz is calling ambulance.

 "Come on, (name), breath! Don't do this to me! (name), breath!!"

 &&&&

 I woke up in the hospital to the concerned face of the fam.  I was confused at first and then everything that is painful started to sink it again. I cried, wishing to die just to make the pain stop.

 The fam insisted I got help and I was too weak to argue so I agreed. I went to seek help from a therapist. But I still couldn't come back into the Tardis. I couldn't face the Doctor. The Doctor probably is relieved that I didn't come back. I would just be a burden to her. Part of me is still angry at her and I think giving her cold shoulder is my way to hurt her back. But I wonder if she even care. 

 She is not here so she probably doesn't care, I thought, and that thought made me want to cry again.

 I went to see a therapist and being prescribed medicine to help me with my anxiety and managing my mood. I started on a normal speaking term with the fam via phone call and messages but we have unspoken mutual agreement not to mention the Doctor or Tardis.

 We seemed to agree what I need right now is normal life, away from the idea of time travel and changing the past. I started working again in a coffee & breakfast shop as a waitress. I was just going through the motion every day.

 The fam always asked me to hang out with them from time to time but I have no energy to do anything but work. They will always remind me of what I've lost. I know it was my own fault that I lost my friendship with the Doctor.

 It was hard to pretend to try to live every single day. Why does everything have to be so hard? Why is life so hard? I can't do it. Sometimes I felt like I couldn't breathe. But I have to fake it so I didn't make everyone worry over me anymore. The sooner they deemed me safe to be left alone the better. So, they can happily travel with the Doctor again without worrying over me.

 Eventually, they did convince that I'm getting somewhat better than before. We grew apart slowly with time. It wasn't their fault. I didn't make effort to be a good company anyway.

 &&&&

 Of course, the universe decided to play a joke on me. One day, after finishing my night shift and as I walked home alone, I got mugged. The guy even waved a knife around me to frighten me. 

 I snapped. Everything was a blur. I remembered the guy cursed me, calling me crazy bitch. I think I even got hurt at some point. But all I feel is anger.

 I was enraged at the violence people are capable of. I lost my dad to some jerk face and now another one dare to show up and threaten me again??

 No.

 Just NO!

 Why? Why do people just keep hurting each other? Why do people just actively trying to be cruel? Why does everyone have to be mean to one another?

 I can't live in a world like this. I hate that I even still breathing in this world. I don't want to live in a world like this anymore.

 I sobbed and started wailing in tears. I think I really lost my mind that night.

 I wished so hard for someone to make the pain stop. My mind flashed into the beautiful smile of the Doctor and I cried. I pushed her away. She is gone from my life now. I was alone.

 I didn't know it at the time but I wasn't alone. I could feel this warm presence envelop my mind and all the sorrow and pain inside of me seemed to fade away.

 I welcomed the presence gratefully. I let it in.

 &&&&

 The Doctor could feel the shift in reality. As she regained her bearing, the feeling that something is off gone from her mind. She glanced around in confusion.

 “Doctor, what’s wrong?” Yaz asked.

 “Hmm, nothing maybe...” The Doctor shrugged it off. “So, fam, where to next?” she asked them with a grin.

 &&&&

 I woke up in my bed that morning. My mind feels refreshed today. I dare say that I feel better?

 As I got out of my house, a neighbour greeted me happily. I smiled back at her. 

 Everyone seemed to be in a good mood today. The usual grumpy mailman is humming loudly and smiling. People are extra friendly today. When someone dropped something, most people nearby will eagerly help pick it up. 

 I also smiled as I walked inside the coffee & breakfast shop where I worked. Even when today is my turn with cleaning duty, I was very happy to do it. 

 Today is a very special day because it is the day she spoke to me. Ivy.

 I accidentally broke my nails during cleaning and I asked my fellow workers for a nail clipper when suddenly this young cute woman offered her nail clippers. She gave me a friendly smile at my stupidly confused look.

 I have seen her around a few times. She loves to hang out on her own in the shop, ordering coffee while work on her laptop. But I never paid extra attention to anyone before because I was being a robot going through the motion. Now, though...

 I muttered a shy thanks to her. She nodded and grabbed her second drink of the day and went back to her table. After cleaning her nail clippers, I walked toward her and returned it. Also I gave her a plate of cake as my gratitude. That would come from my own pocket money but it will be worth it I think.

 She smiled at me, making my heart skipped a beat. She looked happy as she took a fork and eat the cake.

 I smiled. She is adorable, reminded me of... I stopped myself from thinking about that person. Strangely enough, the pain associates with thinking about her is no longer bother me.

 Ivy is very nice. She rambles when she is nervous and she revealed information about herself. She said she is a romance novel writer. I was very excited to learn that I am in the presence of a writer. I would have like to stay with her some more but duty calls.

 After that days though, whenever she come by, she would spare some time to talk to me. We started to exchange numbers and send silly messages to each other when we can’t talk in person.

 I couldn’t help grinning stupidly whenever I saw her. I walked home after my last shift as I thought about Ivy. She made me really, really happy. Not even, a rude guy who bumped into me just now and called me stupid, will ruin the day for me.

 Suddenly I heard a scream. I turned around to locate the source of scream but couldn’t find anything in sight. I frowned for a second, glancing around and saw nobody else seemed to react to the scream earlier so I thought I imagine the whole thing. I resumed walking.

 &&&&

 The Doctor took her fam to attend a party and they are having fun with the friendly local until one person won’t take no for an answer from Yaz. Yaz, of course, can handle herself and tell the rude guy off. 

 Ryan looked livid when the guy called Yaz a bitch. The Doctor herself is about to intervene when right before their eyes, the guy disintegrated into nothing.

 She ran toward the fam and asked them what happened when they just gave her a blank look. They said they have no idea what the Doctor talking about when she asked them about the rude guy and they went back to partying.

 The Doctor pulled her sonic screwdriver and scanned the spot where the man disintegrated but found nothing out of ordinary. It was like that man just never there. 

 She also scanned her companions but the result is normal too. She is confused. As she want to think further about it, she could feel something pushing in her mind and all her worry is gone again.

 &&&&

 Today is my day off, and Ivy decided to spend the day with me.

 “It’s a date.” She said with a wink.

 I blushed.

  We have a good time walking in the park to smell the roses, reading books and exchanged stories about it, cuddle up in a sofa at home to watch movie together, ordering food for binge eating and share a hot chocolate drink together.

 "You are amazing, Ivy. That book of yours, I love it. I can't believe I never pick up on it before. It should be a best seller." I said, my head is on her laps.

 "Aww, thanks, it meant a lot that you love it." She grinned and kissed my forehead.

 "I'm going to recommend this book to Yaz."

 "Yaz?"

 "My friend. Old friend, I suppose. We sorta lost contact recently." I sighed sadly. "All my fault..."

 "Well if you think this Yaz will be liking my novels, go ahead rec away. Also it would work as an excuse for you two to reconnect."

 I hummed. "If she have time to read it, she probably going to like it but she probably busy saving the world with the Do..." I stopped myself when I realized Ivy didn't know about the Doctor and I probably should keep it a secret. Besides I'm no longer one of them so I have no right broadcasting the Doctor's identity.

 "Saving the world? Sound exciting. Who is this Yaz?"

 "She is a very busy, very smart police officer."

 "I bet she is." Ivy teased. "Is she and you...?"

 "She is just my friend. She doesn't like me like that. Not like you." I moved away from her and gazed at her in adoration. I took one of her hands. "You make me happy."

 Ivy gave me a soft smile. "Mutual." She pulled me closer to her and we kissed.

 &&&&

 As time goes by, the Doctor realized something is wrong with the world but everytime she tried to think further, all her worry just washed away out of reach. It seemed nobody but her realized but she can't even hold on the thought for too long before she forgot again.

 Until she met the Master again. He showed up out of nowhere and grabbed her, more like knock her out.

 The Doctor woke up in an empty bar, save for the Master.

 "Welcome back..." The Master said with a grin. "Sorry for the harsh greeting earlier. I have to make sure we will not be interrupted."

 "What?"

 "So, Doctor, what exactly have you been doing to the world?"

 "What do you mean? And why do you assume it was me? If something has gone wrong, I would suspect you instead of me."

 The Master rolled his eyes. "The world has gone bonker, Doctor. The people are all happy, giggly and way too friendly. Not my kind of world." He said with disgust. "Also I just got out from the Kasavin dimension so this can't be my doing."

 The Doctor frowned. "It wasn't my doing either."

 "Then how do we fix it?"

 "And why should we? Like you said, the people has become peaceful. Why would I ruin that?"

 "You can't fool me, Doctor, you wanted the chaos too if only for you to solve it and be the hero you always make yourself to be. Peaceful world would be too boring even for you." The Master said. "Also, a world with pink cybermen and happy daleks form a singing band together? I'm gonna barf."

 The Doctor scrunched her nose at the mention of two of her enemy race. "Seriously?"

 "Deadly." The Master said flatly. "Also you must feel the timeline is shifting and unstable. Seemed like lot of humans and aliens alike has gone missing."

 The Doctor nodded with a frown.

 The Master stared at her. "It is hard for you to hold on the thought that something is off, isn't it?"

 "Yes, that's exactly how I have been feeling these days but I keep...forgetting... Wait, why aren't you infected with whatever this is?"

 The Master shrugged. "Time lord."

 "I am Time Lord too but I was affected..."

 "You are stupid Time Lord."

 The Doctor gasped, looking offended.

 The Master grinned. "My guess because I was still at Kasavin when this, whatever this is, cause the world to go bonker." Then he frowned. "But I could feel it...something trying to convert me...making me...peaceful..." He look absolutely disgusted by the idea. "So, I made a few of this." He showed the Doctor some kind of earpieces. "It helps me to shake off whatever influence trying to get to me."

 The Doctor observed the earpierce with interest and she is a bit impressed.

 "Take one, Doctor, use it and concentrate." The Master urged.

 She glanced at the Master, contemplating whether to trust him just this once or not. Whatever she saw with him seemed agreeable to her so she pick up the earpiece and wear it on one of ears.

 Immediately she shook her head as the smokescreen within her mind cleared. But gone all the peaceful feeling that made her happy before and were replaced by this profound sadness. The Doctor is good at hiding her emotion and so she did what she usually do and started to focus at the real problem.

 "Oooh. Something is wrong. The people become peaceful but not everyone? Some stilll...a bit rude? And they just vanished as soon as they were rude to others. But whoever did this? How can they know when someone is rude? And how did they do all of this? Mind-controlling everyone, not just humans, but aliens..." The Doctor started to rambles and started walking back and forth.

 The Master just rolled his eyes and poured himself a drink.

 "And...pink cybermen and happy daleks? Really?" The Doctor whirled around to face the Master.

 "Really. It was very wrong."

 "We need to get to the bottom of this. I will need more of that earpieces and I need my fam with me."

 "Ugh, do we have to involved your humans?"

 "Of course we have to. We will need their help. This is going to be a tricky one."

 &&&&

 Yaz, Ryan and Graham are depressed after wearing the earpieces. All their happy emotion were replaced with a sorrow they can't comprehend. They knew the world is not all unicorn and rainbow and that most of the time, the world is a cruel place but the second revelation of it are giving them despair. It was like they were high on drug and now they suddenly come down from it cold turkey.

 The Doctor are worried for the fam but she knew that they can overcome it eventually.

 "That guy who called me a bitch, did he die?" Yaz asked.

 "I don't know, could be... We didn't know enough to make assumption." The Doctor said.

 "If whoever did this to the world intend to wipe evil rude people, why is he still here?" Ryan pointed at the Master.

 The Master rolled his eyes at him. "Because I'm clever, I beat their games."

 &&&&

 In the end, the Doctor put the Master as a bait. He disintegrated right before their eyes and through the tracking device on his person, the Doctor found out he was actually teleported by whoever in charge, taken to a dungeon cave somewhere.

 The Doctor and the fam rushed on the location via Tardis. There, they found a bunch of people, humans and aliens alike, in cages in unknown deserted planet.

 Tension are running high, everyone was scared that 'he/she/it' (everyone seemed to see different captor) would return soon and eat them.

 The Master has got out of his cages and take a look around and found a sealed cave with ancient writing and drawing on the wall about something called the blessed devourer.

 The Doctor observed the wall in excitement. She can never resist a mystery. She helped translate the writings for the fam.

 The blessed devourer can take many forms and be in many places at once. It consumed emotions as a source of energy and consumed flesh to stay corporeal. It won't have full powers unless it was invited. The more it get invitations from the people the strongest its hold is upon the world it descends to. Usually it kept the ones who invite it happy and safe, creating a perfect world for them. 

 Some people form resistance knowing the world has gone wrong but no one able to stand in its ways for its power is strong. The only way to reset the world is to make everyone who invite it in to reject it. Every last one of them would have otherwise it will still have powers to overwhelm you.

 One person refuses to reject it and as a result, the world didn't get a reset but it was beaten down and weakened to the point of hiding. The world returned to normal somewhat but the casualties of the people it consumed remained true.

 The Doctor and the Master exchanged a look at each other, confused. If this had happened before, how come the Time Lords were not aware of it? Back at Gallifrey, all of histories and aborted histories on the tips of their fingers and they never learn about this so called blessed devourer. Why?

 The Doctor is angry at the Master for destroying Gallifrey and now they will never know the truth.

 &&&&

 I was with Ivy, holding hands, kissing and having a laugh while walking together when a man looked us over with disgust. I could hear him muttering 'freaks' as he walked away. I felt saddened that there is still people who are homophobic but I let it go. Ivy didn't look happy and despite my protest, she went to the cafe where the man entered. I didn't follow her as requested by Ivy but I was getting worry that he would hurt her so I was about to get inside when Ivy got out.

 "I chew him up." Ivy said with a sweet smile. "He won't be a bother to anyone again."

 "Ivy, you really don't need to do that."

 "Oh, (name), trust me, it was for my own pleasure..." she said a little viciously.

 &&&

 The Doctor and company hid themselves when they felt unsettling presence washed over the area. There is this blurring creature who keep flashing its appearance between men/women/children as if it can't make up its mind and settle into one appearance. But those who are in cages are panicking, screaming, cursing, begging for mercy. 

 The Doctor had to look away when the creatures' mouth opened wide, showing white sharp teeth and sink into the flesh of its chosen snack of the day. Her companion felt sickened by the whole thing to the point of puking. The Master regarded the creature curiously.

 The creature finally settled its appearance into those of a child, a ginger-haired little girl. She smiled happily and walked forward to her secret chamber.

 The Doctor and company followed discreetly. They took a peek of the chamber that resembles a console. Seven holograms appeared in circle around the little girl. She saw the little girl murmuring soothingly to one of the holograms

 As the little girl moved to the next hologram, so does her appearance, sometimes a human, sometimes an alien race. And he/she/it will talk to the hologram soothingly. Afterward, the creature vanished from the chamber.

 The Doctor and company got out of hiding and into the chambers to observe the holograms.

 The Doctor felt her hearts sinking when she saw one of the holograms displayed is in fact her former companion, (name).

 "Oh my God..." Yaz, who also finally noticed, put a hand over her mouth. "(name)?"

 "What? How can she be here?" Graham asked.

 "Is that really her?" Ryan asked.

 The Master rolled his eyes. "Of course, your companion will be one of the stupid ape who invites the creature in."

 The Doctor ignored them as she walked toward (name)'s hologram and touched it. She closed her eyes, feeling for something and she found, no, heard it.

 "Why? Why do people just keep hurting each other? Why do people just actively trying to be cruel? Why does everyone have to be mean to one another? I can't live in a world like this. I hate that I even still breathing in this world. I don't want to live in a world like this anymore. Please, someone, please make it stop. It's hurt so much." The Doctor could felt (name)'s inner pain. "Doctor... I push her away. She is gone now. I am all alone. Please, God, please help me, just make it all stop, please, I can't...I can't..."

 The Doctor's eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. "Oh, (name), I'm so sorry..."

 "Doctor?" Yaz called out.

 The Doctor moved to the other holograms and every last one is the same, one way of another, they are all a victim of violence whether by another human or alien. A young mother who lost her little girl to a bad person, a young teenage alien who lost his family during the war with another alien, a female alien who is a victim of sexual slavery and so on.

 One of the alien race in the hologram, whom the Doctor recognized as a pacifist, her inner pain is actually about the Daleks and Cybermen and her wish is for every races to get along and stop making war in the world which might explain the sight the Master saw of those two race being eerily friendly with each other. 

 Had the situation not dire, the Doctor would probably find it funny that her enemies has turned into peaceful being. The Doctor is worried that the creature is so strong to even convert Daleks and Cybermen. To think that herself, a Time Lord, also almost fell under its thrall is frightening. She has to put a stop on the creature and reset the world.

 The Doctor turned toward the fam and the Master and started telling them what to do. 

 "We have to make them reject the creature. It won't be easy since the creature is basically giving them everything they wanted, a revenge and a peaceful world. But, our future is at stake, at all cost, we have to make them reject the creature." she said to the fam before turning to the Master firmly. "No killing them."

 The Master scoffed. "Wouldn't it be easier to just kill them?"

 "This isn't like the Monk. Killing the host still won't sever the connection."

 "What monk?" Graham asked.

 "Story for another time. Let's go." The Doctor gave them each one person to deal with. Since they are only five people, the Doctor decided to take two. 

 Yaz wanted to help (name) but the Doctor said she will do it.

 "You were right, Yaz, I shouldn't have ignore her. I have to fix this." The Doctor said sadly. 

 &&&

 "Remember, look for the new person in their life and be careful not to upset them more than you need to. Take this earpieces and make them wear it and help them see the truth, appeal to them..." The Doctor declared. She gave each one a communication and teleportation device for when they are in trouble or when they have done the job.

 The Master groaned in annoyance. "Helping an ape..." 

 "Well, you didn't have a choice. You want the world return to normal, don't you?" The Doctor said with a glare. "Behave, Master. You love playing a game? So play this, be the good guy, convince your person to reject the creature and you win."

 "Ugh, fine!"

 &&&&

 I was reading Ivy's draft novel excitedly while drinking my favorite beverage when the bell rang. I thought it would be Ivy. I can't wait to tell her how awesome her new novel is. 

 I was speechless when I saw the Doctor instead. 

 She smiled at me hesitantly. "Hey, (name)..."

 "Doctor...?" I still can't believe my eyes. The Doctor is here? "What is it? Are the fam...?"

 The Doctor hastily said, "Oh, no, they are fine. I actually am here for you, you know, to hang out. It has been a while since we talked after all..."

 I narrowed my eyes at her, not believing that she actually wanted to hang out with me. 

 She smiled at me with a hopeful puppy look that she probably knew I couldn't resist.

 I sighed and let her come inside.

 She grinned and entered the room and made her way to the cushion. "What are you reading?"

 "Just some book." I refused to talk about Ivy's book with her.

 "I love book. What is it about?"

 "Doctor, why are you really here?" I asked. "I get the feeling this is not a social visit." I said. "Or is it? If you are worry of me being suicidal, don't, I'm fine now."

 "It's not about that. Well, It is about that and more. It's also about your new friend."

 I frowned. "Ivy? How do you know about her? Have you been watching?"

 The Doctor glanced at me with a look of sad and guilt. "(name), I'm so sorry but Ivy is not what she said she is. She is not human."

 I was surprised at the mention that Ivy is not human but... "So what? So she may or may not be human, so what? You are not human either, Doctor." I felt the need to defend Ivy, she is my girlfriend after all.

 "This is different."

 "How?"

 "She changed the world, (name)."

 "I noticed."

 "yeah, she... Wait, what? You know?"

 "I mean I didn't know she is the one who did it but I do notice the world is changing and for the better." I said. "And she did make my life better. I was at my lowest point in life after I lost my dad, Doctor, and she make it better, make it more bearable."

 "But it's more than that though, (name), she is eating people."

 "What?"

 "Yeah, she took people who are evil or has bad manner and she ate them...chew them up inside her stomach, I saw it."

 My mind flashed at what Ivy said before regarding the rude man who called us freaks, about how she chew him up and that he won't be a bother anymore. My face turned pale in realization. My girlfriend is actually an alien, I thought in confusion but for some reason I'm not afraid.

 "(name), you need to wear this." The Doctor said as she handed me an earpiece.

 "What is this for?"

 "She put the world under her thrall. This will help you combat it. I worked it with the Master to make more for the rest of you."

 "You worked with the Master?" I asked in disbelief. I took a step back. I didn't want to hear about this. I suddenly feel the urge to run.

 The Doctor suddenly moved in front of me which make me jump in surprise since I didn't notice her. She put the earpiece inside one of my ears despite my protest.

 I closed my eyes as I felt like the world is sinking before me. The happiness is gone. The sorrow is back full course. I opened my eyes as tears started to fell from my cheek. "Why? Why would you do this to me, Doctor?"

 "I'm sorry, (name), but I have to make you see." The Doctor said as she grabbed both of my arms. "Ivy is dangerous. She will eventually turn against you too after she has her fills with the world."

 "So let her..." I whispered.

 "What?" The Doctor stared at me in disbelief.

 "Why would you want to change this world? Why would you want it to return to the chaos? Ivy made everyone happy and safe. There are no crime, no wars."

 "Yeah, but at what price? She has been consuming people and not just the rude. She is snacking on the happy people too. Her true self consumed emotion and flesh and the whole world is her all-she-can-eat buffet."

 "So?"

 The Doctor look confused. She didn't understand why I didn't jump on board the Doctor's train anymore.

 "If it's the price of peace..."

 "What? The price of peace is her stomach?! Are you listening to yourself, (name)?"

 I didn't reply as I stared at Ivy who has suddenly appeared behind the Doctor.

 "Step away from her, Doctor." Ivy said with venom.

 The Doctor turned toward Ivy and smiled grimly. "So you know who I am..."

 "And I also know your friends...the one you sent to disturb my peace. I am with them too right at this moment."

 The Doctor look nervous. "If you hurt them..."

 "You hurt me first! And if you and them don't stop soon, I can't be held responsible for breaking my promise." Ivy said as she glanced at me.

 "Promise? Your deal with (name) when she let you in?" The Doctor asked. She turned to me. "What is the promise?"

 "To keep you and everyone I have left safe. To not be alone and in pain anymore. To live in a world where everyone is happy." I whispered.

 "Except you don't have them, (name), they never come back for you. Even now, they show up here just to tear us apart." Ivy said with a touch of anger and sadness.

 I glanced at the Doctor and Ivy in sorrow, not hearing what they are talking about. I didn't know what to do.

 The Doctor is begging me to reject Ivy and save the world once more. Ivy begged me to stay with her and promised to make me happy until the day I die. 

 Ivy is in pain. It seemed the Master and the companion has managed to convince the others to reject her. She is having a hard time to maintain her appearance. She keep flickering in and out of existence. She glanced at me sadly. 

 "(name), please help me."

 "You are the last, (name), please, I know you are still in pain right now, but you need to reset the world to the original state." The Doctor begged me, appeal to my humanity. "I promise this time around I will be there for you. I won't abandon you. I'm sorry I couldn't get your dad back for you. But I will be there with you."

 I gazed at the Doctor and saw her sincerity. But I also know the Doctor is good at lies. And yet, what is it about her that make me still want her approval? 

 I turned to look at Ivy and I walked forward to her ignoring the Doctor's protest. I put a hand over her cheeks. "Ivy, thank you, for everything, for making me happy and at peace with myself. I love you for it. But I guess...it's time for me to grow up and face the consequence..."

 Ivy gazed at me sadly. "Are you sure about this? You know how this will end..."

 "I know. And I'm okay with it." I said and it will be the truth because I would revert back to that moment where I already give up.

 Ivy nodded and turned to the Doctor. "It seemed like you have won, Doctor. But know this, now that (name) has rejected me, time will reset back to the moment she let me in and she will die."

 The Doctor froze. "What? What are you talking about?" she asked in panic as she glanced between Ivy and me.

 "The night I found her, she was dying, if time is reset, that's meant she never let me in, which mean I never save her. She will die on that road, all alone."

 The Doctor turned toward me. "What is she talking about, (name)? You are dying?"

 I chuckled sadly. "The irony, Doctor, I died more or less the same way as my dad..."

 The Doctor shook her head. "No. That's not going to happen. I will save you."

 Ivy sighed in amusement. "oh, Doctor, haven't you realized yet? No one will remember this moment in time. It is erased, no longer exist, which mean you will never know either."

 "I am a Time Lord! I will remember! Aborted timelines or not!"

 "And yet Gallifrey didn't know of my existence, didn't they?" Ivy asked. She sighed. "You save everyone but her, Doctor."

 "No." The Doctor turned to me pleadingly as the timeline shattered before us.

 &&&&

 I snapped angrily at the man who dared to threaten me with a knife. It reminded me too much of the day my Dad got shot. I didn't remember exactly what happen next, only that I lost my sanity and fought back stupidly.

 And then there was pain.

 I realized I have been stabbed or more like I tripped and fell straight to the path of the knife in my fit of rage.

 "You crazy bitch!!" the man shouted at me. He left in a hurry.

 I was alone and in pain. 

 I stared at the night sky. Strange enough, I felt calm and at peace. 

 &&&&

 Yaz got a phone call. Her face turned pale as she turned to face the Doctor, Ryan and Graham. They were still laughing at something before they stopped upon seeing her state.

 "It's (name)..."

 &&&&

 The Tardis landed on alley nearby and the Doctor and her companion ran outside immediately toward the road.

 They saw the road is full of spectator. There are police cars.

 The Doctor gulped as she walked slowly toward the crime scene.

 There, on the road, a body covered in white sheet. A stabbing victim. They said it was mugging gone wrong.

 Yaz talked to a fellow police officer to get more details.

 Ryan and Graham stood with the Doctor each by her side.

 The Doctor stared at the body with one forlorn glance, unable to comprehend what is happening. Yet another one she lost, another one she let down...

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #thirteenth doctor imagine #shiefenwrites

[wolfflock]

Please, Keep Love Hole (ch20/21)

What can one lonely nerdy teacher do when he just loves sucking cock? The lone bathroom stall in a gay bar seems like the perfect place for him.

What can one hyper college student with a sports scholarship do when his friends are jerks? The lone bathroom stall in a gay bar seems like the perfect place for him, too.

Chapter summary: Some light fluff before the last (smutty) chapter. I just felt the boys deserve nice things so here it is.

XXX

Over summer, things take on a new form of normal: Stiles works in the coffee shop five times a week, then goes for a run after each shift. Derek gives summer courses for high school students, tutors college students and runs a book club for little kids (which Stiles totally thinks is adorable as hell). All in all, it’s probably the best it has been in quite a while for Stiles. He is content with his routine, with being able to focus on his well-being, and all this provides enough time for the two of them to explore their relationship.

After they are done with work, they usually meet at the park to enjoy the sun and to just talk. Derek seems to be inclined to take things slow, and Stiles is totally fine with this. It might have been a surprising challenge to just slow down and not rush things, because honestly, that’s not what he was used to, but then again, he argued, Derek wasn’t a college student looking for a quick summer fling, so Stiles tried to match his pace. Taking it slow meant it’s been two weeks and he still hasn’t been to Derek’s place, and if anyone thought (Stiles included) that Derek would be willing to go over to Stiles’ dorm room, well, yeah, no, I’m a bit too old for that, Stiles. So, it was usually neutral ground, with plenty of people around, keeping things certainly PG. As far as Stiles is concerned, though, it is all good, great even, and it is no one’s business that most of the time after he walks Derek home and kisses him goodnight, he most definitely doesn’t even try to keep things PG while taking a cold shower to calm himself down. He is a healthy (and finally, he feels like he is) nineteen-year-old.

His friends seem to be relieved that he is doing better, which makes him appreciate them even more. He has caught Scott looking at him with a fond smile on his lips when he thinks no one is watching; and Danny is back to being more tactile with him, bumping into his shoulders, slapping him across the back, and just not treating him anymore like he might break by the slightest breeze. Jackson is still an ass but in an affectionate way, always ready to snarl at anyone who looks at Stiles the wrong way. Which happens, sometimes. People whisper when he walks by, gossiping about the popular (dumb) jock who couldn’t handle his drink and the smoking hot Prof Hale had to save his ass.

It’s a mixture of shadenfreude and envy, he knows, but it still hurts. He can only imagine what would happen if people actually knew about him and Derek. They never wanted to keep it a secret, which Stiles is really delighted about, because sexy Professor Hale doesn’t want to keep him a dirty secret! But they try to be as professional as they can be, so they usually don’t go to places where a lot of Derek’s students would be. It’s easier now that it’s summer and they don’t have to be on campus, and the town is sometimes like a ghost town because a lot of people have left.

To be with Derek over summer, Stiles decides against going home. When he tells his dad, he sounds pleased that Stiles is at a good place and tells him not to worry about him. He can visit his hometown whenever he wants to, but he should enjoy his summer with his new special friend. That comment makes Stiles groan and bang his head against his desk.

Scott, though, is planning on going home for the summer, so they decide to celebrate his last night there. It takes a lot of back and forth between Stiles, Danny and Jackson to decide what they want to surprise Scott with.

“We should go to that new arcade like place that opened by the swimming pool,” Stiles, resident nerd, says.

Jackson’s eye roll is so exaggerated that Stiles is surprised he didn’t sprain something.

“…or not, okay. What do you suggest then?”

“How about some cocktails and pool in MacTavish’s? I’ve heard that’s a hot spot for summer schoolers” Jackson supplies which earns him two sets of very judgmental eyes.

“Dude, they aren’t even allowed to drink,” Stiles replies.

“Neither are you, Stilinski,” Danny interjects, and Stiles can’t fault his logic there.

“Yeah, I’ll leave the fresh-out-of-highschoolers for you, Jackson,” Stiles shoves at Jackson, who just shakes his head. “I like my partners with some experience,” he smirks, and the other two just groan and ‘eww’ at him. They know about Derek, of course, and it provides endless source for them to tease Stiles about.

“Oh! Talking about experience,” Danny exclaims, “you remember that gay bar with the glory hole?”

Stiles has very vivid yet rather blurry memories of that place and the glorious head he received there. The thoughts make him blush and he wishes really hard that Derek would just not leave him with a serious case of blue balls every time they part ways because then maybe (big maybe) he wouldn’t be turned on by just the memory of a blowjob.

“Yeah,” Jackson confirms.

“Well… umm…” Danny fixes the collar of his shirt, “my sources say the guy hasn’t been there for a few weeks now.”

“Your ‘sources’, eh?” Jackson cackles and mimes a blowjob to Danny, who turns even redder and awkwardly smiles.

“Yeah, his regulars miss him,” he admits sheepishly, and that has both Jackson and Stiles break out into hysterical laughter.

In the end, they go to a pizza place for dinner, then to a 90s themed party. Scott seems happy with their choice and they all have a great time.

At the beginning of August, Stiles is having breakfast with Derek at their favorite pastry shop, when Derek looks at him, hesitant, unsure, and it makes Stiles’ heart painfully clench. He is both apprehensive and excited by that look. He reaches out and runs his hand down Derek’s (broad, muscular, very impressive - hey! mind out of the gutter!) back, which seems to relax him a bit.

“It’s Zoe’s birthday next weekend,” he says after a while and Stiles is just staring at him.

“Mhm,” he supplies eventually, when Derek seems satisfied with saying this much.

“I would like for you to come with me,” Derek says, hand reaching out to touch Stiles’. It takes Stiles a second to realize that Derek is actually asking him to meet his sister, not his niece. His sister, Laura, the only family he has.

Stiles swallows his apple strudel and fighting down questions like what am I going to do with a bunch of little kids around, I am not good with kids, he smiles at Derek.

“That sounds great. What is the plan?” he asks and is shocked by Derek’s beautiful smile. That smile alone is worth putting up with kids for a morning.

He only freaks out a little when Derek tells him that it is tradition in their family to cook and bake together with the birthday girl or boy, and then to play boardgames. The bigger freaking out comes when he realizes that he is a terrible cook and that he has never had to spend a whole day with a child around, let alone several.

“I can’t do this. I am nineteen! How am I expected to be able to handle this? Scott, heeeeelp!” He knows he is like a petulant child – maybe he should join the partying kids instead of cooking with the adults – but Scott is just laughing at him.

“Dude, louder, please, my speakers aren’t screeching just yet,” Scott laughs at him, but there is an affectionate and understanding look in his eyes, even through the pixelated image of his laptop.

“Sorry. But seriously, buddy, I am so not mature enough for this. I mean, I know that Derek is 26 and I should have expected, like, adult things, but not this fast, you know? Also, it’s not only that there will be kids, but his sister, who he hasn’t talked to for years. What if I fuck that up? What if I do something stupid and ruin their newfound bond?”

“Stiles. Trust me, you won’t. Derek likes you,” Scott says in a serious tone, the one that belies his youthful features and makes him sound really wise. “He believes it will be okay, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked you to go. Besides, he wants you to meet them. That’s a big thing.”

“I know,” Stiles groans. “I just don’t want to fuck this up, too. I have made quite a lot of mistakes lately, but this is something that I want to do well,” he confesses, although he suspects Scott knows all this, maybe knew it even before he himself did.

“And you won’t. Just be yourself, be nice to them and if you’re unsure about something, be honest with Derek.”

“Dude, when did you become so wise?”

Scott laughs, and looks at the camera. “I miss you, buddy.”

“Yeah, I miss you, too.” There’s a beat before Stiles continues. “Thank you. Honestly, dude, thank you for always being there for me. You’re the best.”

“Aww, dude, stop, you’re going to make me cry here,” Scott sniffles and waves at Stiles. “Now go and get something for the birthday girl.”

Stiles says goodbye, promises to call soon, and leaves his dorm to meet Derek and buy a present together.

They brainstorm over coffee and Stiles talks excitedly about games that are probably not even age appropriate for Zoe, but he likes the sound of them. Stiles is too excited to notice the adoration in Derek’s eyes as he watches Stiles gesticulate wildly, showing images on his phone to Derek, describing toys and games. In the end, they go with wooden blocks and a picture book – neither of which are princessy because Stiles is a firm believer of gender-neutral toys. Derek believes him and lets him call the shots. Stiles thanks him by giving him a long, slow kiss in the car that leaves Stiles’ insides tingling. Derek just looks dazed when he pulls back, and a small smile spreads across his face.

---

On the day of the birthday party, Stiles has to get up rather early which makes him grumpy. He stumbles to his kettle to make some tea – he decides that should be enough caffeine, he doesn’t want to end up too pumped lest he makes an ass of himself. After a quick shower, he picks up a dark blue and read plaid shirt and khaki pants, fixes his hair and heads downstairs. Derek is already waiting for him in the parking lot, eyes looking tired but glinting as he sees Stiles.

The drive to Laura’s is a peaceful one, they listen to some music, holding hands. Stiles’ palm is slowly getting clammier and clammier, but Derek doesn’t say anything, he just rubs circles into it.

Derek kills the engine in front of a lovely two-story building, and as they step out of the car, Stiles can already hear rowdy children running around in the backyard. He walks to Derek, takes a deep, steadying breath and nods at him. Derek wraps his arms around him in a tight hug and Stiles melts into it. With a soft kiss to his temple, they straighten and head to the door, hand in hand.

Stiles isn’t sure what he expected to see when the door opens, but he is greeted with… well, Derek if Derek was a few years older and a woman. Same dark hair, although Laura’s seems naturally wavy, expressive but sculpted eyebrows and the same twinkling eyes, which are just a shade or two closer to blue than Derek’s.

“Derek!” she exclaims and pulls her brother in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you could make it. And you must be Stiles,” she looks over at Stiles, who is standing there awkwardly, feeling like someone poured a bucket of water down his back, the fabric of his shirt sticking to his back. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she continues which makes Stiles quirk an eyebrow at Derek.

Derek just laughs a little and answers with his own expressive eyebrows that say “What? I do talk about you to my family” and that soothes Stiles’ nerves some.

“Hi Laura. It’s really nice to finally meet you,” Stiles extends his hand, but Laura wraps him up in another big hug. Seems like the Hales are huggers, which Stiles is more than okay with. He misses his dad’s hugs and this reminds him of home.

“Come on in, we are just getting ready to start cooking. Zoe is already helping her dad measuring out flour to make cookies.”

She leads them to the kitchen where a little army of kids are standing on kiddie steps to be able to reach the countertops and help their moms or dads.

Stiles is introduced to everyone as Derek’s partner, which makes him both embarrassed (they never said it out loud, he always just assumed they were there) and extremely proud. Laura’s husband, Zach gives him a knife and he’s tasked with peeling potatoes while Derek is chopping carrots. The kids are loud and messy, but Stiles wouldn’t trade this for anything. The adults are making jokes, the kids are signing and competing, trying to make the most impressive cookie shapes (there are dinosaurs, witches, sharks and dogs, too).

While the food is getting ready, Laura comes over to them to chat. She hands both Derek and Stiles a coke each, which makes Stiles what Derek has told her, but he decides he doesn’t mind if Derek told her about his previous alcohol problem. Derek is looking out for him and he appreciates it. Laura herself is drinking some juice, too.

“So Stiles. Tell me how you two met.”

Stiles almost chokes on his drink but composes himself quickly to reply “In school. Derek was my lecturer.”

Which is true, but not even half of the truth. Derek and Laura share some intense eyebrow-conversation that Stiles can’t even begin to understand, but he feels like this was a test.

“He isn’t anymore, by the way,” he clarifies.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Laura smiles at him, but it is a knowing smile. She looks to Derek then and ruffles his hair. Derek pulls a face, but Stiles can see nothing but love in his eyes.

The rest of the day is spent with a delicious lunch, board games and a lot of laughing. Surprisingly, Stiles bonds with Zoe quite easily over dinosaurs and cookies, and Derek just watches them, leaning against Laura, whispering into each other’s ears.

Stiles’ heart is light in his chest, fluttering excitedly when he sees Derek this happy and relaxed.

“I’m glad we went. I really needed this,” he whispers as he closes the distance to kiss Derek when he drops Stiles off that night at the dorm.

#sterek #eternalsterek #teen wolf #sterek au #sterek fanfic #fanfic #teen wolf fanfic #please keep love hole #pklh #mine