#14 is FOURTEEN. Not a “second ten”

[terranceholdsapencil]

I sometimes think its weird that everyone must have a 'favourite doctor'. I get the appeal, but how its so wide spread baffles me.

Theyre all one person, in the end, with each regeneration being all that came before and more, and a little different due to the experiences they had and the people theyve met, just how I am different from when I was 15 years old, but still the same.

I have a favourite doctor for conveniency reasons, mostly, 12- but even then, whats a 'favourite doctor'. My favourite performance? My favourite to have a fun time with? My favourite to make me aspire to be better? My favourite to laugh, my favourite to cry for? Theyre all different. I love 12 as much as I love 1 or 2 or 3 or 4. Maybe I have incarnations I dont feel as strongly for, but thats usually out of unfamiliarity with all they went through and by such an inability to truly grasp who the doctor was when they wore that face (e.g. my only experience with 8 being the tv movie) or because they amplify parts of the doctor Im less fond of (e.g. six being a little mean).

But in the end, theyre all of it anyway? All of the Doctor is mean, whether its the first doctor or the sixth or the tenth, all doctors are kind, whether its the second or fourth or 12th or 14th, all of the doctor has experienced grief, all of them is strong willed, brave, afraid.

I like the idea of having a 'favourite'. To me its a little like your favourite actors role, I love david tennants hamlet more than I like his alec hardy, but I still love his acting, period.

But this obsession of needing a favourite doctor, of needing to love one part of this beautiful, incredible character more than others, often it feels unfair to who they are. This grand person being reduced to a few years of their endlessly long life. To a single face.

Maybe that's what feels so real about thoschei. Companions tend to get attached to a face. To this one part. To the master the current doctor's body is secondary.

"Doesn't matter which face he was wearing, they're all the Doctor to me."

And they are, in fact, all the Doctor.

[mipexch]

1014 blast 2

[aq2003]

fuck!!!!!!

[haechoxo]

urs

loosely based on urs by niki

pairing! lee haechan x reader

synopsis! in which you’re not able to read how haechan feels about you and you’re left second-guessing about his true intentions, but you’ve completely fallen for him and acknowledges that it is unhealthy for yourself. in other words, your situationship with lee haechan.

notes! situationship!haechan, angst, fluff, suggestive themes, profanity, he’s kind of an ass, non idol au, inaccurate depictions of party culture/hookup culture etc,

status! completed

one; 6:42 pm

two; 12:31 pm

three; 9:07 pm

four; 9:26 pm

five; 11:03 pm

six; 11:11 pm

bonus [6.5]

seven; 7:22 pm

eight; 9:58 pm

nine; 5:14 pm

ten; 7:07 pm

eleven; 8:12 pm

twelve; 1:27 am

bonus [12.5]

thirteen; 10:35 am

fourteen; 3:18 pm

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 14

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide, minors do not interact

word count: 7.9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

palestine will be free

The first thing you feel is something plastic poking the inside of your nose. It smelled of chilly, medicinal air conditioning. 

The next thing you feel is a massive, unpleasant weight on your chest. Then at the crown of your head. Then some weird pressure squeezing your calves every few seconds. Then an entirely full bladder. 

“I need to fucking pee.” You mutter, voice dry and raspy. 

“I think you can just go, dude.” A familiar voice replies. 

You fight against the crustiness of your eyes but immediately regret it. All you can see through the slits of your eyelids is a harsh, white light. 

“Am I… Am I fucking blind?” You whine. 

“I’m pretty sure that your eyeballs are still inside your head. So hopefully not.” You hear the voice chuckle. 

You fight against the unforgiving glare from above, forcing your eyes open. It takes a few moments to gain control of your body, but you’re eventually able to crane your neck towards where the voice had previously echoed from. 

“J-Jesse?” You croak. 

“Yeah. I’m here, bud.” Your raven-haired friend smiles. 

You spot him to your left, sitting in, what appears to be, an uncomfortable armchair. He wore a blue disposable mask over his nose and mouth, his hair looking unkempt and unshowered, and you notice how his clothes look wrinkled and slept in. 

“What happened? Are you alright? What’s going on?” You groggily inquire. 

“You’re the one all strapped to a hospital bed, but you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Jesse takes your hand and squeezes it appreciatively. He flashes you a soft, warm smile. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“I-I’m not sure…” You admit. “What… what the hell happened?” 

“Well,” Jesse starts slowly. “You went on a date with Anderson to Orchards yesterday. At the end of it, you were being a total dummy and made out with her after she ate a whole plate of shrimp.” 

“N-no, no,” You interrupt, scrunching your face up as you try to recall the previous day’s events. “She ate this whole soup thing for dinner. Some weird French dish with some weird-sounding name.” 

“Bouillabaisse,” Jesse clarifies. “It’s a fish soup. It doesn’t always have shellfish in it, but hers apparently did.” 

You groan. 

“Oh, I am such a dumbass.” 

“Please explain to me exactly how you were being a dumbass in this situation.” 

“You literally just said that I was a dummy!” 

“That was Jesse of the past. I’m a much more mature man now in my old age.” 

You attempt to smack his arm, but he’s saved by the many coils of IVs attached to you, pulling your hand back. 

As he playfully rebukes you for attempted physical abuse, another person enters the room. A kind-looking nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. Wearing dark blue scrubs, a low ponytail, and a surgical mask, she greets you with a friendly wave. She approaches your bedside opposite Jesse, and her glasses-covered eyes indicate a friendly smile. 

“Hi there,” She nods. “My name is Yoojin. I’m your nurse today. I’m so sorry for not being here when you woke up. I had to step out for a few seconds, but your brother here assured me that you were in capable hands.” 

You turn to Jesse and mouth in amusement, “Brother?” 

He suppresses a laugh. 

“Later.” He whispers through his mask. 

You turn to Yoojin with a small grin. 

“No worries. I only just woke up now.” You assure. 

She gives you, what you assume, is another smile under her mask. 

“So how are you feeling?” 

Jesse remained by your side the entire time, only leaving briefly when he needed to use the bathroom or take a call. He sympathized with your gripes about being bedridden, making lighthearted jokes about your catheter, messing around with the IPC devices off your legs over and over until a nurse came in and kindly asked him to stop. 

The TV in your room wasn’t working, so he kept you entertained, cracking his usual dad jokes and telling some old stories of Jackson you hadn’t heard yet. You pretended not to notice that the anecdotes he’d recall always excluded an essential person in his childhood, and you tried your best not to remark on it. 

After a couple of hours, Dina finally came around to visit. She walks in as you’re berating Jesse for stealing a fruit cup you knew you weren’t going to eat. The sight of her immediately warms your heart. 

“Dina!” You exclaim. “Oh, I missed you.” 

Dina sets her bag down next to Jesse, lowers her face mask for a moment to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and pulls up a chair next to him. She takes your hand and beams at you graciously. You notice that her eyes are slightly glassy. 

“Oh, babe,” She sighs. “I missed you too. Sorry that I’m just getting here. Had to deal with a few things before I came over.” 

“Don’t apologize, D. I’m just glad to see you.” 

She squeezes your hand softly. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” She gulps. “You worried us so much.” 

“Sorry about that,” You grin sheepishly. “I was being a bit of a dummy.” 

Dina blinks for a moment before giving Jesse a smack on the back of his head at this. 

“Oy vey. You asshole.” She chides knowingly. 

“Hey! No need to abuse me! I’m delicate.” 

He caresses the spot where she hit him as you laugh heartily. 

The couple recounts the events of last night for you, explaining in detail as much as they know. You listen without interruption until they reach the topic of your EpiPen. 

“But how’d you guys get to my EpiPen so quickly? Did you pass by my apartment?” You ask them curiously. “I don’t mind if you guys did! It’s just not that close to the restaurant. Wouldn’t have made much sense to book it back to my apartment, honestly.” 

Dina and Jesse share a look you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrow, confused by their hesitation. Eventually, Dina responds. 

“Uh, well…” She begins slowly. “Jesse actually happened to have a spare EpiPen at his place. Thank god, right?” 

“You did?” You turn your head towards Jesse. “I didn’t even know you had one, Jesse.” 

“Y-yeah,” Dina continues cautiously as you notice Jesse’s expression shift to a poker face. “He used to have an, uh, egg allergy growing up.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. 

“Yup,” Jesse chimes in. “I grew out of it when I was in high school. But my mom still insists that I have an EpiPen on me. Just in case.” 

You continue to look completely discombobulated. You don’t fully buy their story, especially since neither were looking you directly in the face. But you’ve always trusted Dina as a sister and Jesse like a brother, so you half-heartedly accept the tale they’ve decided to present you with. 

“Oh, okay,” You say, slightly unconvinced. “Well, thank god for that, I guess. Is it okay that you used it on me, though? What if you suddenly need it again?” 

“No worries,” Jesse assures you. “I’ll call my mom and ask her to send me a new one.” 

His poker face improves, so you concede for now. 

The couple continue to recount the previous day’s events until they eventually catch up to the present. 

“Only family is technically allowed to visit you in the ICU,” Dina confesses at one point. “Jesse had to say he’s your brother to get past the nurses' station. The nurse manning the desk at the time could definitely tell we were lying, but she was really nice and allowed it anyway.” 

“Oh, gotcha,” You say. “Well, you’re basically my brother, anyway.” 

“You should feel so lucky to share the same genes as me.” He boasts, stealthily avoiding yet another smack from Dina. 

“What about you, D?” You ask, turning towards her. “What did you say you were? My sister?” 

“Nah, I didn’t wanna be siblings with Jesse, even just as pretend.” She grimaces. 

“Okay, yeah, didn’t think of that,” You realize, scrunching up your nose in total disgust at the thought. “Gross.” 

“Wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” Dina shudders. “Anyway, I told them that I’m your life partner.” 

“My what?” You giggle. 

“Hey, it counts!” Dina defends. “Well, kind of. The nurse had to list me as your ‘spouse’ instead, which feels like a hate crime.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh as Jesse chuckles. 

“What? You don’t wanna be married to me?” Dina asks in mocking shock and offense. 

“I am absolutely honoured to be married to you,” You assure her. “I’m just worried about poor Jesse. How in the world are we supposed to break it to him that we’ve actually been married for over ten years?” 

“Oh, please, Jesse’s known from the start that he’s always just been a side piece.” 

“Hey!” Jesse interjects in indignance. “I’m right here.” 

“Be quiet, side piece. The wife and I are speaking.” Dina waves him off. 

You burst out into laughter at Jesse’s playfully hurt expression. 

The three of you discuss what the doctors have told you, and you eventually bring up the conditions required of you to be discharged. 

“I know that the doctors and nurses saved my life and whatever. And of course, I’m very grateful. And I truly do not mean any disrespect,” You say. “But I want to get the fuck out of here, uhh, right fucking now.” 

Dina smiles and Jesse chuckles. 

“I know, babe.” Dina sympathizes. 

“You’ll be out sooner than you know, bud,” Jesse adds. “Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out as soon as possible.” 

“Oh!” Dina suddenly pipes up and reaches into her bag. “I can’t believe I forgot. I brought your phone. I was able to grab your purse for you before the paramedics took you away. I turned it off and charged it at home, so it should have some juice.” 

She places your phone in your hand, and you flash her a grateful smile. 

“D, you need to be canonized for your good deeds, I swear. With a statue and everything.” 

“Oh, I know,” Dina smirks. “Brought your wallet too. Not sure if you wanna keep it here or bring it back to your apartment, though.” 

“I’ll ask them if I can keep it here with me.” 

A thought suddenly hits you. 

“I’ll… I’ll have to figure out how to pay for all this when I get out.” You sigh. 

“Oh, babe,” Dina says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just focus on resting, okay?” 

“Your insurance will hopefully take care of a huge chunk of it,” Jesse contemplates. “It’s through your dad, right?” 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You say as your hands begin to fidget anxiously. “Something as big as this, they’ll probably contact my parents. I… I can’t let them know I’m in here. I know it’ll start shit and… I just know it won’t be good.” 

The couple give you identical, concerned looks. 

“D-do they know? Th-that I’m in here?” You ask timidly. 

“Not that we know,” Jesse replies. “Neither of them is on your emergency contact list. And you know that Dina and I would never speak to either of them. Unless it’s to tell them to shove a stick up their respective asses.” 

You and Dina giggle. 

“Speaking of which,” Dina adds. “You can ask your uncle. I called him yesterday while you were still out. I hope that’s alright.” 

“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” You say gratefully. “What did he say? I hope he didn’t worry too much.” 

“Honey, you almost died. Of course, he’s worried. He loves you.” She checks the time on her phone. “He should be arriving sometime later today, actually.” 

“Shit,” You groan. “He didn’t have to do that. He gets so busy with work during this time of the year. This must have been so inconvenient—” 

Jesse suddenly takes his thumb and middle finger and flicks you on the forehead. 

“What the fuck!” You exclaim in indignance, rubbing the spot you were hit, as Dina gives him another hard smack on the head. Jesse ignores you both. 

“You are more important than any goddamn job that exists in the world, in the whole motherfucking galaxy. Your uncle loves you, just as we do. So no more complaining about it, dumbass.” 

You give him a pouty look, but his words fill your heart. 

Your best friends stay the rest of the time until your uncle arrives around midday. Relief and affection overwhelm you when he enters the room. You squeeze him with the tightest embrace you can possibly give for someone essentially strapped to their hospital bed. You ignore the loud beeping resulting from the tangling of your many IV wires. 

After your friends help you unravel all the cords, they gather their things and get up from their chairs. 

“We’ll let you guys talk.” Jesse says, offering his seat to your uncle. 

“Oh, you don’t have to leave.” Your uncle graciously assures them. 

“It’s alright; have some family time,” Jesse insists kindly. “I’m pretty sure she can only have two visitors at a time, anyway.” 

The couple make their way towards the sliding glass door. 

“I cannot express how grateful I am for you two,” Your uncle says before they exit. “Thank you for saving her life. And thank you for keeping me in the loop.” 

“Please, no need to thank us, really.” Dina nods kindly. “She’s family. We would do absolutely anything for her.” 

“That means you’re both family to me too.” Your uncle concludes. “Thank you.” 

You hold back tears of vast emotion from three of the most important people in your life exchanging such caring sentiments. You’ve never felt luckier. 

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” Jesse promises. “Let us know if either of you needs anything, okay?” 

Jesse and Dina take their leave, and your uncle subsequently takes a seat next to you. 

“Oh, Uncle,” You start before he can speak. “I’m so, so sorry. You shouldn’t have flown all this way. I can’t believe I was so stupid to have—” 

“Hey, hey,” Your uncle interjects. “None of that. You have no reason to be sorry. You needed me, so I’m here. I’m not mad, and this is not your fault.” 

Tears form in the corners of your eyes. 

“I just feel like I’ve inconvenienced so many people. If I could have just paid attention…” You lament. “And now I’ve totally made you drop everything to be here. I know you’ve still got work—” 

“You are a thousand times more important than my job, sweetheart.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, echoing Jesse’s previous words. 

“But…” 

“You are my family. Nothing is more important than that.” 

You smile at his adamancy. 

“And especially since losing Rafael,” He continues. “I think of you as my own.” 

“I know, Uncle.” 

You squeeze his hand back in affection. 

“D-did…” You suddenly say. “Did you tell—” 

“No, your mother and father don’t know a thing about this.” He answers insightfully. 

“Thank god.” 

“Did you want me to tell them?” 

You grimace. Your uncle chuckles. 

“I figured as much.” He surmises. 

“I just don’t know how to keep this from them forever, though,” You continue. “They’ll see it through the insurance company. I…” 

“Don’t worry about that. I can talk to the nurses later today before I leave, see if I can pay it in full myself without needing to use your father’s insurance.” 

“Uncle, please. Please don’t do that. This is going to be so costly, and you’ve still got your mortgage and Raf’s leftover student debt—” 

“I just want you to focus on getting better, alright? I don’t want anything else on your plate right now.” 

“Uncle, promise me. Please. Please promise me. Do not spend a single cent on this. I want to do this on my own. I’ll figure it out. Please promise me.” 

He gives you nothing more than a smile in response. 

Your friends and uncle take turns rotating as your company for the rest of the day. They’d only leave your side when the doctors and nurses needed to conduct extensive tests to ensure that you were still stable. You were never on your own for more than a few seconds, your loved ones determined that you not feel alone. 

You’d turned your phone on almost immediately after Dina’d handed it to you. But as a small, gracious gesture of appreciation, you had set it aside to give your visitors your undivided attention for the rest of the day. 

It wasn’t until the evening, when your friends and uncle waved you goodbye as visiting hours ended, that you allowed yourself to finally glance at your notifications. 

Anxiously picking your phone up, the first thought you have is to call Abby. Jesse and Dina had mentioned she was with them in the waiting room the night before. But, like your friends, she was informed that she wasn’t permitted to see you in the ICU as she wasn’t family. Dina and Jesse sent her home with the promise to let her know as soon as possible when you finally woke up and that you were alright. 

You notice that she’d messaged you earlier in the day. But much too embarrassed to face her just yet, you decide instead to first call your old freshman roommate. 

Tara picks up after only two rings, almost as if she’d been waiting by the phone for your call. She greets you with a happy shriek of your full name, an amused giggle escaping your lips as a response to her sudden enthusiasm. 

“Thank fucking god!!! I’ve been waiting all fucking day to hear the sound of your voice!” 

“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You reply, smirking. “This is actually Satan, here to leave a message. I’m calling to let you know that I will be collecting your mortal soul sometime during the next 24 hours.” 

“Oh nooooo,” Tara plays along. “What on earth have I done to warrant eternal damnation, Miss Satan?” 

“Not sure if you know, but homosexuality is actually a cardinal sin. And unfortunately, you seem to be a notorious, flaming homosexual. I know, I know; it’s quite disappointing. But alas, I do not make the rules.”  

“But Miss Satan, are you not a homosexual too?” 

“Well, that’s exactly how I know it’s a sin.” 

The two of you crackle at each other’s banter, and you make plans in your head to spend more time with Tara and the rest of the girls after you’re released from the hospital. 

You and Tara chat for a little while about the most mundane things, like her classes the day before and her plans for the weekend. She apologizes for not having more to say and for “being so boring,” but you’re genuinely happy to just hear her prattle off about anything. 

At some point, she hands her phone over to Astrid, who greets you with a similarly delighted shriek that her girlfriend had received you with prior. She gushes over you with love and concern, insisting that she and all the Wilson girls come to visit you as soon as you’re out and adjusted. 

“Tara just about broke down when I told her about it.” She reveals. “She was about to leave for her shift at Ruston’s when Dina called, and I’m pretty sure the whole dorm could hear her sobbing.” 

“What?! I did not!” You hear Tara shout from a short distance. 

“You had so much snot running down from your nose that I just about hosed your face down before you left!” Astrid yells back. 

“Stop telling her that! She doesn’t need to hear all that!!” 

You giggle at the couple’s repartee. 

“Anyway,” Astrid continues. “Kris, Sid, and I tried to come down for a visit, but they apparently only let family in. Jesse and Dina seemed to have monopolized the fake roles of being your family already.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that, Addy.” 

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” She brushes off. “I’m just glad that you haven’t been alone there. Those two really care about you, you know.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Dina started to make a whole fuss when they wouldn’t let us past,” Astrid continues. “Threatened to sue the nurses, all the doctors, the entire hospital. The receptionist nurse didn’t even get a chance to kick her out ‘cause Jesse himself forced her to go leave and take a walk to calm down. I don’t think she came back until a couple of hours later.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like our Dina.” You snort. 

The two of you discuss what you’d like to do whenever you finally get released, Astrid swearing to get you out of your apartment nearly every day after your discharge. 

“I don’t think I have all the stamina for all that, babe.” You chuckle. 

“Then you better get yourself to the gym with Jesse, and build that stamina the fuck up! I want your sexy self at parties and clubs, living your best 20s life with us!” 

You chuckle warily at this, simultaneously pushing away the reminder of who Jesse’s daily workout partner is. 

After saying your goodbyes to Tara and Astrid, you make brief calls to the rest of the girls of the Wilson Crew. They all answer your calls with an assortment of jubilant greetings, each girl expressing their elation and gratefulness that you’re finally awake and safe. 

You send individual texts of love to Dina, Jesse, and your uncle, thanking them extensively for coming to your aid and expressing your excitement to see them again very soon. 

Having done your rounds of gratitude, you finally acknowledge that you can no longer ignore the unread texts of the blonde-braided woman you’d had your near-fatal dinner with. You open up your message thread with Abby to see that she’d sent you only three texts earlier in the day. 

You stare at her text. 

Oh. Huh. 

No part of you blamed Abby for the incident; in fact, you’d been feeling a tremendous amount of remorse for putting her through such a traumatizing and jarring ordeal. It had been plaguing you so much since you woke up that you were far too embarrassed to ask Jesse and Dina more about her. 

But something about her texts bothers you. There was very little warmth and familiarity in her messages. Her words didn’t seem that of the woman who had been walking you to your classes every day, who showed you off to her friends at the Bow and the Arrow, who treated you to a lavish restaurant on a fancy date. Who kissed you with so much passion on the sidewalk of that same restaurant the evening before. 

Is… Is she angry with me? 

You continue to stare at her strange messages for several more minutes, unable to process the situation you’re somehow in now. You can’t think of an appropriate response that would lead to something honest, so you decide to put your response off. 

A-at least until after they release me… At least until I get home… 

The doctors only began to discuss the possibility of your discharge early Sunday morning. Though it hadn’t even been a full two days since your admittance, it took everything in you not to practically beg them to let you go. You’d been insisting to anyone who’d listen that you were completely fine, that you’d walk right out yourself if you weren’t strapped to your bed with a million wires. 

It wasn’t until midday, as you were mercilessly beating Jesse’s Shy Guy as Pink Gold Peach in Mario Kart, that Yoojin walked into your room with good news. You don’t notice her at first, too busy taunting Jesse for landing in 7th place while you scored 1st. 

“You only won because I got Lakitu’d in the second lap! Fuckin’ Isabelle was sending red shells at me nonstop…” Jesse gripes. 

“Sucks. Sounds like a personal problem, man.” You shrug. 

“Alright, I want a rematch, but on the Egg course this time.” 

“You’re such a sore fucking loser!” 

“There’s a shortcut on Yoshi’s circuit close to where the finish line is, by the way,” Yoojin interjects, eyes smiling. “If you use a mushroom and drift to the hidden waterfall on the right, it’ll get you pretty far ahead.” 

You and Jesse look up, a bit sheepish at her witnessing your juvenile behaviour. The nurse looks completely unbothered by it, however, and she approaches your bed as you place your controller down. 

“Aww, come on, Yoojin,” You whine. “Don’t tell him that! I’m on a winning streak!” 

“Shh,” Jesse shushes you, attempting to cover your face with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Yoojin. She’s delirious from all the drugs you’ve been pumping her with. I must know all your secrets, ‘cause I swear, this one is cheating.” 

“Maybe later,” Yoojin laughs as you flick Jesse’s forehead. “Because you might want to hear what your doctor just told me.” 

Your ears perk up at this. 

“I can go home?” 

“Your most recent labs just came back, and everything looks good.” Yoojin nods. “And your vitals have been stable for the last 24 hours. So unless you plan on wolfing down ten pounds of shrimp sometime before leaving, we can get started on getting you released sometime later today.” 

Your face breaks out in a huge smile, and you turn to grasp Jesse’s arm. 

“Dude! I can go home!” You exclaim. 

“Yes, I heard,” Jesse says. You can feel his smirk through his face mask. “Finally.” 

You turn back to Yoojin. 

“I can go right now?” You ask. 

“It’ll take a couple of hours to make sure everything’s set for your discharge,” Yoojin says, chuckling at your eagerness. “But just hang tight, and you’ll be out of here in no time.” 

“Why don’t you guys settle things here while I go tell your uncle?” Jesse offers. 

Your uncle had stepped out to get some lunch at the hospital’s food court not too long ago. He and Jesse had arrived on the dot when visiting hours began earlier in the day. Dina had accompanied them but left shortly after to take care of other obligations, promising to be right back the second she was done. 

“Oh, that’d be great,” You say. “Thanks, Jess.” 

“No worries, bud. I’ll be right back.” 

He gives you a pat on the head before leaving you alone with the nurse. 

“So before you leave, we’ll go over a few things to make sure you don’t suddenly relapse during the next few days,” Yoojin begins. “And we’ll make sure you go home with a couple of new, unexpired EpiPens, just in case.” 

You nod as she goes on to explain the plans for your discharge. You listen attentively, determined not to end up back in the hospital like this again. As Yoojin wraps up, you work yourself up to ask her a question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since the beginning of the conversation. 

“Hey, umm, before you go,” You mutter nervously. “I wanted to ask about how much all of this will cost me. I-I know it’ll be pricey and all, especially with two brand new EpiPens, so I just want to be prepared.” 

“That’s not really something I can help you with,” Yoojin replies apologetically. “That’s the jurisdiction of the hospital’s billing department. But I’m sure you can get it all settled with your insurance after you’ve been released. Depending on what you have, they should cover most of it.” 

You give her a tentative smile as you wring your blanket between your fingers. 

“A-alright then.” You sigh defeatedly. 

It takes about two hours for you to finally be released from all your restraints and another hour until you’re finally walking out of the hospital and into the sunny parking lot. Yoojin allowed you a quick embrace before you left, insisting that you promise to be much more careful from here on out. 

You lean against your uncle and Jesse for support as you exit the hospital’s automatic sliding doors, legs still a little shaky after being bedridden for so long. Dina pulls up next to you in her car and gets out to open the passenger door. 

“M’lady.” She says with a bow, gesturing to the seat. 

“Shut up, D.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Your uncle inquires. 

“I think so,” You reply. “Didn’t really bring anything with me.” 

“Alright, well, I’ll head to my hotel room first so I can take care of a few things. I’ll meet the three of you at your apartment sometime later today. Sound good?” 

You, Jesse, and Dina all nod in unison. Before he walks away, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you so much, Uncle,” You murmur. “It means so much to me that you came.” 

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.” 

He gives you a quick squeeze before releasing you, promising he won’t take very long before walking away towards his rental car. 

“So,” Dina chimes. “Wanna grab some gross, greasy non-hospital food on the way home?” 

 When you finally cross the threshold of your apartment, you’d already wolfed down the majority of your fries along with half a chocolate milkshake. You collapse onto your couch with a relieved sigh, your best friends falling next to you on either side. You lean your head onto Dina’s shoulder as you take her hand between both of yours. 

“I think I’m about to go into the world’s longest food coma.” You decree. 

“I’m right alongside you, dude.” Jesse agrees, having devoured one and a half burgers himself on the way. 

“No comas, please, or we’re gonna have to turn right back around and readmit you into that hospital.” Dina says. 

“Never again, please,” You beg. “If I have to hear the nonstop beeping of a heart monitor for one more second, I’m going into straight-up fight-or-flight mode.” 

Your friends chuckle. 

“Alright,” Jesse eventually says as he sits up straighter. “Now that you’ve been freed, what do you want to do first?” 

You hum as you ponder his question. 

“Get so blackout drunk that I totally forget this entire experience ever even happened in the first place?” You offer. 

“Right, well, perhaps we can do something that isn’t completely stupid and detrimental to your health. Especially after you were just in the hospital after almost dying.” Dina retorts. 

You boo her as Jesse chuckles. 

“Well,” You continue. “I guess I should tell the girls I’m finally out. I promised them I would. Or did you guys say anything to them already?” 

“Not yet,” Dina says. “They’ll probably want to hear it from you.” 

You groan. 

“You’re right. Ugh. I don’t think I can handle the sheer amount of screaming and excitement that’ll come with it, though. Kris sounded like she was going to smother me with so much love that I’d suffocate from it.” 

“You can always put it off, at least until tomorrow.” Jesse counters. 

“I guess so. You think they’ll be mad?” 

“Babe,” Dina says, squeezing your hands and rolling her eyes. “You almost died. I think they’ll survive a day.” 

“Alright, alright,” You giggle. “I probably should focus on getting work done before class tomorrow, anyway.” 

“Ma’am, I know you are not thinking of going to your classes right after you were just in the hospital all weekend.” Jesse scolds sternly. 

“I’m fine!” 

“Dear lord.” Jesse sighs, exasperated. 

“Like I said,” Dina repeats. “You almost died. School is not a priority right now. You need to be resting, not writing essays and doing homework.” 

“I don’t want to fall behind!” 

“Didn’t your doctor give you a school note before we left earlier? She said you can give it to your professors to excuse you from your classes this week.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not mandatory or anything. I’m fully recovered now, so it just seems totally unnecessary.” 

“Like hell it is!” Dina bellows before releasing your hands to stand up from the couch. You fall flat on your face onto her spot when her shoulder disappears from under your head, and you muffle irritated curses into the couch cushion. You look up to see she’s disappeared momentarily into your bedroom. 

“D… What are you doing?” 

Dina reemerges after a few seconds, your laptop in her hands. 

“Babe. What’d you get that for?” You ask suspiciously. 

“I’m emailing all of your professors myself to tell them that you will not be attending any of your classes this week. Especially since it seems that you want to be such a stubborn dumbass about it…” Dina says matter-of-factly, shoving your head away from her spot on the couch to sit beside you once more. 

“Never should have given you my password.” You grumble as Dina opens up your laptop and easily bypasses your lockscreen. 

“Alright, who are all your professors again?” She asks, opening up your browser to access your email. 

“I’m not telling you!” You reply stubbornly, crossing your arms. 

“Hmm… I know she’s got Olinick’s double class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mulligan at least on Mondays—” Jesse lists, counting your professors on one hand. 

“No, no, no, I don’t!” You turn towards him, shoving your hands in his face. 

“—I think Joslin from the English department too, but I can’t remember if that was last year or this year.” 

“Jesse!” 

By the time your uncle arrives at your apartment, you’d conceded to your best friends and allowed them to draft an excuse email to all of your professors. Dina opens the door for him after he knocks while you make final edits to your letters, and he settles into the ratty, secondhand armchair right next to the couch. 

Your uncle chuckles at the scene before him: you with a focused look on your face typing rapidly on your laptop, Jesse leaning back into the couch while gently patting the top of your head as he continued to make suggestions to your email, and DIna taking her seat right back next to you before kicking her feet onto your lap as you lift and place your laptop on top of her legs. It had been a while since your uncle had seen you so relaxed around other people, the last time being right before your freshman year of college. His fondness for your best friends quickly grows by the second. 

You look up from your work for a moment to smile warmly at your uncle, and he returns it with one of his own. 

“Hi, Uncle! Sorry, I’m just finishing up this email to my professors.” 

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You telling them you won’t be attending any classes this week?” 

“Yup,” Jesse answers for you. “Took a lot of bullying on our part to convince her not to overwork herself with school right now.” 

“This dummy wanted to go back to classes right away as if nothing happened.” Dina rolls her eyes as she extracts a foot from underneath your laptop to kick you softly, earning her a stern “Hey, hey, hey!” from you. 

“Well, thank goodness she has you two to set her straight.” Your uncle chuckles. 

“Oh, she’s absolutely lost without us.” Jesse says, continuing to pat the top of your head. 

Your uncle smiles. He can tell that Jesse’s joking around, but he knows that the couple have both been selflessly keeping you alive for the past few years. 

“So how are you feeling?” Your uncle continues with concern etched on his face. 

“Not so bad,” You admit. “Just so glad to be among civilians once again.” 

You feel Jesse rub your upper back kindly. 

“I’m sure,” Your uncle smiles kindly. “How about we talk about what you’re going to do now that you’re out?” 

The four of you discuss what the next, post-hospital visit steps would be. They remind you of the check-up appointment you have later in the week, caution you once more about what foods you need to constantly be looking out for, and double-check that you have your new EpiPens handy and within constant reach. 

“I still have my current EpiPen in the bathroom,” You say. “It hasn’t lapsed yet. So maybe I can give you each of the ones they sent me home with, if that isn’t too much of an inconvenience to either of you guys?” 

You turn towards Dina then Jesse. 

“You sure?” Jesse asks. 

“Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t want something like this to happen again. But if, by some hideous trick of fate, I end up in a repeat situation, it might be smart to just have one in multiple places. Just to cover my bases, I guess.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Dina nods. “As long as you have easy access to one at all times.” 

“Yeah, that was my thinking too,” You agree. “Plus, I don’t want to have to use one of yours again, Jess.” 

“Mm, I guess.” Jesse hums. 

Your eyes meet his and you once again recognize his poker face. 

“That sounds like a good plan,” Your uncle agrees. “Let’s try not to rely on just luck next time around.” 

You give him an apologetic smile. 

The sun had been set for at least an hour when Dina and Jesse finally took their leave. Both offer to stay the night, in case you suddenly need either of them, but you assure them that you’ll survive one night alone just fine. You embrace each of them tightly, putting every ounce of gratitude you have into your hugs. 

You settle back onto the couch after you see them both out the door, and you turn towards your uncle still sitting in the armchair. 

“I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times the past day or so,” You begin. “But thank you for coming, Uncle.” 

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t come,” He replies. “Neither would Raf if he was still around.” 

You both share a sad smile. 

“I miss him, Uncle…” You whisper suddenly. 

“I know. I do too.” 

You sigh before continuing. 

“I wish he was still here. I feel… I feel so incomplete without him around. Like this has all been an awful nightmare that I have yet to wake up from.” 

“I know just what you mean,” Your uncle laments. “But our lives still go on, sweetheart. I think it’d make him sad to see us grieving him for the rest of our lives.” 

“But… it just feels so wrong. It feels so wrong to stop grieving for him, to move on from him.” 

“It’s not exactly moving on from him,” Your uncle ponders. “It’s more like… We make a place for him in our hearts. It’s sort of like he becomes a part of us. He’ll always be in everything we do.” 

Your eyes well up as a childhood memory floods your thoughts. 

When you were eleven years old, you had your first anaphylactic experience. You and Rafael were hanging out at his house, your uncle at work all day. You were making a mess in the kitchen, developing concoctions with half the contents of the pantry. As you were dumping a bag of marshmallows into a blender full of graham crackers and banana slices, Rafael fished an old bag of chips out of one of the cabinets. 

The writing on the bag was all in a language you couldn’t understand, but the superheroes on the front seemed to be enjoying the crunchy snack. Raf was tearing the bag open before your greasy fingers started grabbing at its contents. 

It didn’t even take two minutes until Rafael realized something was wrong. You were annoyed and taken aback when he slapped the chips out of your hand. It wasn’t until he was hauling you to the garage and strapping you into the passenger seat that you began to feel dizzy. By the time Rafael had driven to the emergency room, your skin had broken out into hives and your throat felt completely swollen. The last thing that you remembered before blacking out was your faithful cousin scooping you up and sprinting to the emergency room’s entrance. 

You didn’t hear the end of it from your parents when you’d woken up from being unconscious after a couple of hours. Your mother spared no shame in relentlessly admonishing you, regardless of who was in the room, for your “stupidity.” The doctors and nurses offered you continuous looks of pity as they had to witness your many verbal lashings, though none stepped in to interfere. You were blamed for inconveniencing the family, for forgetting your EpiPen at home, for “forcing” Rafael to drive a car when he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, for obligating your parents to pay for your medical bills. 

From that day on, your fear of your parents’ wrath was far greater than the fear of possibly falling prey to your fatal allergy. 

All that gave you hope was your uncle and cousin coming to your defense. Unlike your parents, they showered you with care and love, especially Rafael who felt guilty and responsible for your admission. They nursed you back to health after you were released, Rafael promising you that he’d never let it happen to you again. 

 “Can I tell you something, Uncle?” You ask. “I didn’t even tell Jesse or Dina this. And I don’t think I ever could.”  

“You never even have to ask, sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” 

“I…” You gulp. “There was a point… while I was in the ICU that I was a little lucid for a few moments…” 

You wring your fingers together in uneasiness as you stare down at your lap, unable to meet your uncle’s eyes. 

“I… I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know I was going through anaphylaxis again. But I just knew… I felt that something was wrong with me.” 

Your uncle listens to you intently, his chin on his hands folded as if he were praying. 

“Something inside me… Somehow, I knew that I was dying,” You continue. “Or I knew that at that moment, I could die. I could keep going… or I could choose to let my body give out completely.” 

You finally meet your uncle’s gaze. 

“And I wanted to. I wanted to just… go,” You confess. “Not in a s-suicidal way. Not exactly, at least.” 

Your eyes fill with thick tears. 

“But… I wanted to be with him again. I knew that if I gave in, if I succumbed to whatever was killing me, I would see him again.” 

Your bottom lip shakes as you continue. 

“I miss him so f-fucking much, Uncle. I don’t know how to go on without him around. I’m so l-lost and confused, and all I want to do is talk to h-him about it. But I can’t. There’s n-nobody else in this world that I’ve ever felt as close to as him. Maybe except—” 

You break off before you can finish, shaking off the memory of ocean green eyes and a constellation of freckles. The look on your uncle’s face tells you that he already knows how your sentence was going to end, but he says nothing. 

“He told me he’d never let anything happen to me. He was always supposed to be here with me,” You sob. “I know that’s selfish. I know that his life didn’t revolve around me. But so much of mine did. I planned… I built my life to always include him. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

Your uncle’s sad eyes watch as you roughly wipe your cheeks of the tears uncontrollably streaming down. 

“Sweetheart…” Your uncle begins as he stands up from the armchair to sit next to you on the couch. “You are not selfish. I know how much he meant to you. How much he still means to you.” 

He takes your hands between his. 

“I just…” You sniffle. “It’s been years. I thought I’d healed from it already. I thought I’d moved past all the pain.” 

“It’s not a continuous thing, dealing with your grief.” Your uncle smiles softly. “You’ll have moments, hard ones where it’ll all feel raw and fresh again. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish. You just have your own way of handling your sadness.” 

You nod in acknowledgement of his words. 

“But I think we both owe it to Raf to live our lives, to be happy without him around,” He continues. “His gift to us was time. Time with him and great memories. Even if he’s no longer with us, we’ll continue to carry that gift with us wherever we go.” 

Your uncle smiles and you return it, though wistfully. 

“I’m very grateful that you trusted me to share this with me,” Your uncle begins. “But don’t be afraid to talk about this with your friends. Especially those two.” 

“Jesse and Dina?” 

He nods. 

“I see just how much they love you,” Your uncle says. “They seem like they would do absolutely anything for you. And I am so grateful that you have people like that in your life.” 

“Yeah, they… mean so much to me.” 

“I’m glad. So, please. If I’m not around, don’t be afraid to confide in those two. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you’d do the same for them.” 

“I’d do absolutely anything for them.” 

“Exactly. So don’t be afraid to embrace the love in your life. You deserve that. And that’s exactly what Rafael would want for you.” 

You throw your arms around your uncle and sob into his shoulder. 

You and your uncle continue to talk for a while until you realize that it’s nearly midnight. Like your friends, he offers to stay the night in case you need him. But you know his flight home was only in a few short hours, so you insist that he go back to his hotel to get a bit of sleep before he needs to leave for the airport. 

It took everything in you not to beg him to stay, but you couldn’t bear troubling him further. And you longed to finally have some time to yourself, so you put on a brave face.  

After your many assurances that you would take care of yourself better, you walk him to your front door. When you open it up, you both notice a simple brown box with a thin bow placed on top of your doormat. You pick it up, noticing how light it feels in your hands. 

“What is this?” You mutter. 

“You got a package?” Your uncle asks, looking at the box. 

“No… I didn’t order anything.” 

“Strange. Maybe your friends Dina and Jesse left it for you.” He offers. 

“I… I guess,” You frown. “Although, I don’t really know why they wouldn’t just give it to me when they were here earlier.” 

“Hmm, that’s true,” He hums, squinting his eyes at it. “A secret admirer, perhaps?” 

“Ha ha, Uncle. Very funny.” 

You give him an amused grimace before untying the bow and removing the lid. You gasp as you recognize what it contains. 

“Oh…” 

You drop the box and embrace its previous contents. 

“My Barbie Bear…” 

author's notes:

thank y'all so much for you patience waiting for this new chapter to come out. i literally wrote like, half of this while in the psych ward, and that was all the way in decemeber sldkfjlsdk

tbh i meant this chapter to be a lot shorter than it turned out to be but lskdjfs more content for y'all ig!

reader's first words after waking up is inspired by me saying, "i need to poop so bad" when the doctors were busy working on me in the emergency room lmaoooo

silver lining of me being in the icu back in december is being able to describe it in detail in this chapter hehe. being in the icu suuuuucked but mostly cause it was boring and cold and i wasn't allowed to get up to pee!!!

the nurse yoojin is named after one of my nurses while i was in the hospital. i loveddddd her, she was such a sweetheart and it made me so happy whenever she was assigned to me. i was rewatching arcane while i was in the hospital, and she saw and asked me about it, and then we gabbed about the show and league of legends (cause she religiously plays the game but hasn't watched arcane yet), and i eventually convinced her to actually watch the show heeeheee

reader’s uncle saying he sees reader as his own is what uncle iroh says to zuko in atla, fun little easter egg heehee (you know me and my love for easter eggs)

reader greeting tara on the phone as satan was how i first greeted my best friend when i was finally able to call her through the public phone in the psych ward (hi rhi LOL)

pink gold peach is my main in mario kart lol

reader's professors mentioned are all named after old professors from my former college's theatre department (rip dennis, miss you always ❤️)

reader’s uncle telling her “we make a place for him in our hearts” in regards to rafael is what tara in buffy the vampire slayer says to dawn when their mom dies (can you tell i love btvs)

working on the next chapter asap, lmk what you think of this chapter in the meantime!

also i made an ao3, so if you wanna read on there too, check it out!

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[decentwritings]

Chapter 6

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> final part

The slam of the trunk echoes through the night, reminding you of the weight of your decision. Each sound reverberates in the still air, amplifying the finality of what's been set in motion. Your pulse quickens, matching the steady thrum of your heartbeat in your ears. It's too late to turn back now.

Right?

With each passing second, the quiet seems to press down on you, the darkness around offering no comfort. You're alone with your thoughts, the reality of the situation settling in with an unsettling chill.

Your fingers trace the top of the trunk, the rust is there and you swore to yourself you would never let the paint get this bad. Maybe putting the car through a 14 hour trip was a bad idea.

Running did some damage to this car. Running will do some damage to them.

Just when you were getting the hang of it; the plan, you've resorted to your habit. A habit, you now recall, your father taught you to fight against.

The tarp is pulled off and a cloud of dust floats with it. You cough, waving your hand to blow the dust away from your face.

Your dad laughs, and it's then you finally see what the tarp was hiding. His old, beat up Toyota Chaser that he had sold last year. You only know it's the same one because of the sticker you stuck on the front bumper when you were ten. Your dad tried everything but the sticker just wouldn't peel off.

You told him it was sign not to sell it, that it belonged to the family and should stay with the family. He sold it anyway, the need for money bigger than the meaning of the car.

"Bought it back from the guy I sold it to," your dad explains, circling the car to stand in front of you. All you can do is stare at him, unable to find words to describe how you feel.

Your brother learned how to drive with this car. Your sister learned how to drive with this car. When you got the news he was selling the car, you were fourteen and your mom was adamant your father didn't teach you how to drive until you were sixteen. So it really bummed you out when he sold the car.

But here the car is. And you're eighteen and only know how to drive an automatic.

Your dad grins, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. "I promised I'd teach you how to drive a stick, didn't I?"

You catch the keys, staring down at them in your hand. The weight of it feels heavier than it should, like a responsibility you're ready for. And there's a look in your dad's eyes–pride, determination–it pushes you to nod.

When you hop in the car, you grip the steering wheel. While it's just an average, worn out steering wheel, you feel like it's brand new. You remember watching the car drive away after it was sold, the blinking brake light in the distance flashing in your mind. It was like it was teasing you, laughing at you for never sitting in the driver's seat.

But here you are, keys in hand and foot on one of three pedals. You put the keys in the ignition and recall the trick your father taught you to turn the car on. He chuckles when you successfully turn the vehicle on. It roars to life, shaking the car before finally settling.

"I thought you sold it for good," you voice softly, still in disbelief. You are holding the steering wheel, feel it under your fingertips yet it still feels unreal.

Your dad shrugs. "I thought so too," he admits, hand palming the dash. He pats it a few times. "We were going through a rough patch financially when I sold the car. We almost lost the house," he informs you.

You whip your head, looking at him, disbelief all over your face. "We almost lost the house?"

He nods quietly. "Yeah," he shrugs. "And believe me, it would have been easy to just...leave and start somewhere new, cheaper. But this place is home, the neighbors are our friends, family."

You arch a brow. "We've never shared a word with the neighbors," you retort.

"We wave at each other when we get the mail or take the trash out," your dad counters, waving a hand dismissively. "My point is, things got hard, and running sounded great but...it also would have hurt you and your brother and sister."

You look out the windshield, giving the streets a real look. While you grew up here, you never really thought much of it, the neighborhood. The streets always seemed the same, the houses all blending together. But now, sitting in the driver's seat of your dad's old car, it feels different—like there's a story behind every corner, every mailbox.

"Things aren't always easy," your dad continues, his voice pulling you back. "But we don't just quit when they get hard. We stick it out, we fight for what matters." He pauses, looking at you. "And that's something you need to remember, especially now."

You glance over at him, the weight of his words sinking in. This isn't just about learning to drive a stick; it's about life. About not giving up when the road gets bumpy, about pushing through when everything feels like it's falling apart. You had the tendency of giving up, even at the simplest things like learning how to play guitar, or piano. Hell, you wanted to drop out of high school your sophomore year.

"I get it," you say, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Thanks for bringing the car back."

Your dad smiles, a soft, proud expression crossing his face. "You're ready for this. More than you think."

"What if..." you hesitate, unsure to continue. But he encourages you with a nod. "What if I mess up?" you finally ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Your dad's smile doesn't waver. He leans back, crossing his arms, and lets out a small chuckle. "You're gonna mess up. That's part of the deal. You think I didn't stall this car a hundred times when I first learned?" He raises his eyebrows, as if daring you to believe otherwise. "The important thing isn't if you mess up—it's that you keep going."

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking it over. It's always been like that with you—one mistake or it gets tough and you'd want to quit, walk away before it got too hard. But now, sitting here, hearing your dad's words, you feel something shift. Maybe it's the car, maybe it's the moment, or maybe it's just time you start believing you can handle more than you think.

"You'll get it," your dad continues, patting your shoulder. "Just take it one step at a time."

You swallow thickly, feeling emotional suddenly. "You'll stay here...with me until I get it?" You ask, and a look of disbelief crosses his face. It's like he can't believe you would ask that. "You won't give up on me?"

"I'll be here it until you no longer need me," he answers, caressing your head gently. He brushes your hair down, soothingly and carefully.

You stare at the dashboard, a light is on signaling something is wrong with the car and you haven't learned what it meant yet. It dawns on you, "I'm always gonna need you."

Your dad's expression softens at your admission, and he pulls you in for a brief, reassuring hug. "You might think that now, but trust me, there will come a time when you'll be able to drive on your own. Just like I had to learn," he says, releasing you but keeping a warm gaze fixed on your face.

Feeling a swell of emotion, you nod, trying to push back the lump in your throat. "I just... I don't want to mess up and disappoint you."

He shakes his head firmly. "You could never disappoint me. It's okay to make mistakes; that's how we learn. I just want you to fight for what you want, even when it gets tough." Then he shrugs. "And hey, if you want to give up and run, that's fine too. But I just want you to try first; do everything you can. Don't give up just as you're starting to get the hang of it."

You take a deep breath, letting his words wash over you. For so long, you had let the fear of failure dictate your actions, but now, in this moment, with the keys in your hand and your dad beside you, you can feel a flicker of hope sparking within.

"Okay, I promise," you say, a bit of determination creeping into your voice. "Let's do this."

With that, you put the key in the ignition once more, turning it. The engine roars to life again, and you feel a rush of adrenaline. Your dad nods approvingly, a proud grin spreading across his face.

That's how you wanted to remember your dad—not as a pale, bedridden man struggling to take a breath, but as the vibrant, larger-than-life figure who taught you to fight through adversity. He once told you he didn't want to be remembered that way, not as a dying, ugly, pale old man–his words. A part of you resents yourself for honoring that wish, because deep down, you want him to know that you, your mother, your sister, and your brother will be okay.

Even though you all still need him, he has taught you enough to navigate life without him. His lessons echo in your mind—the resilience, the determination, the unwavering belief that giving up is never an option. You recall those moments shared in the old Toyota Chaser, each lesson woven into the fabric of who you are.

You throw your head back, groaning loudly. Once again, it echoes throughout the night. You lock your car before trudging back to your dorm.

As Deadpool would say, "I'm no hero. But when you find out your worst enemy is after the best girl, the time has come to be a fucking superhero."

"I'm in my Deadpool era," you chuckle, cracking your neck. The current plan right now is to find weapons. God only knows what these weird college students hide away in their dorms for protection.

"Maximum effort," you say, cracking your knuckles and grunting before kicking in the first door.

\\\\\

Danny stares at the building, hating this gnawing feeling in his gut. Each minute without a sign of life from anyone just makes the feeling grow more intense.

Sam told him to stay out here. She said since it's obvious they shouldn't have trusted you, they shouldn't trust him. It hurt, but Danny couldn't argue with her. After everything that's happened, trust is fragile, and with you gone—disappeared without a trace—he's left with no defense.

He rubs the back of his neck, eyes fixed on the building's dark windows. The silence feels suffocating, like the calm before the storm. Every second that passes without a sound, without a signal from inside, makes his heart race faster.

Then, he hears fast footsteps running. They sound like they're getting closer and closer, so he turns and prepares himself for a fight. His fists raise and he keeps his eyes wandering, ready for a surprise attack as well.

But his fists lower when you come into his view, out of breath and running right into him. You failed to estimate how fast you were.

Danny steadies you, eyes narrowed. "Where the hell have you been?" He practically shouts, his words echoing in the quiet streets.

A look of regret is written all over your face. "I'm sorry, Danny," you say first, head down, ashamed. You shake yourself out of it. "But I'm here now. They're in there?" You ask, glancing behind him.

He stops you before you can get past him. You groan at the tightness of his grip, pulling your arm out of his hold.

Danny doesn't back down. His eyes are fierce, a mixture of worry and anger swirling in them as he blocks your path. "You think you can just show up out of nowhere and everything's fine? What the hell happened to you? We thought—" He cuts himself off, jaw clenching. "They don't trust you. Hell, I'm not even sure if I trust you."

"I get it, I know, I'm sorry," you repeat, breath still coming in quick, shallow bursts. "I messed up, okay? But I'm here now. I can still help."

He shakes his head, frustration bubbling over. "You disappeared. Sam and Tara are inside right now, thinking the worst. We were supposed to trust you."

"Just Sam and Tara?" You ask, suddenly uneasy. "What happened to Chad, Mindy, Anika and Ethan?"

"Chad is with them," Danny reassures, but what he says next makes your blood go cold. "Mindy, Anika and Ethan have been MIA. They were suppose to meet us here."

Your heart skips a beat. "I need to make this right, Danny," you breathe out. "I messed up. I was in and when I was finally getting the hang of it, I ran. But I'm back now and I need to help–I want to help," you correct.

Danny stares at you, scrutinizing every word you just said. He had faith in you, that for once you were actually going to stick around. And it backfired. It made the woman he loves distrust him.

He thinks about it, long and hard, his gaze unwavering. The only thing that remains now is, you're his family. There were plenty of times you and your family could have just stopped giving him chances yet you didn't. Time and time again, your parents took him in when his parents kicked him out. He owes you at least one more chance.

"Fine," he relents, and you smile, practically beaming. "But I'm coming with you."

Your smile drops. "No." You deadpan, shaking your head firmly. "I'm not letting anyone else get hurt. You stay here. Call for backup if we need it."

Danny groans, huffing. That's exactly what Sam said. "Fine," he says again, angry but understanding. He points to the side of the building. "Kirby let them in through there. Maybe they left the door propped open for Ghostface to get in."

You start but then stop, giving him a weird look.

He raises his hands, unsure and a little exasperated. "I don't know, Y/N. Just go!" He shouts and you do.

But as you get closer, you come to a slow stop when you see a body on the ground. You recognize the head of hair instantly, so you're quick to kneel down and aid her.

Gently, you shake her, hoping to get some reaction, a sign that she's alive. She gasps for air, waking up then with a groan.

"Kirby, are you okay?" You ask, stupidly, but it's also something you learned working at the hospital. Ask them a question, see if they are capable of answering it.

Kirby sits up slowly, you help her rest against the closest wall. She has a cut on her head and blood is close to fall into her left eye. You look around for something to use to keep pressure on her wound but come up empty. You stare down at your jacket, and hold back a whine before shrugging it off.

You wipe the blood before you roll your jacket then press it against her wound.

Kirby helps keep it place, then looks at you. "It's Bailey," she manages to say, voice hoarse.

You lean forward slightly, unsure if you heard her correctly.

"It's Bailey," Kirby repeats, louder this time.

The need to say you had a suspicion is there but you hold back. It does anger you to know the guy who was helping the Carpenters and lost a daughter in the process of helping is behind this. A part of you can't understand how he just allowed whoever was helping him kill his daughter.

Kirby winces, struggling to sit up straighter against the wall, her hand still pressed to the makeshift bandage. "He's been playing us this whole time. He's Ghostface."

You shake your head, scoffing. "His daughter died. He was at the station when I was attacked at my house. He has someone helping him."

Kirby grits her teeth, her frustration evident. "He's been two steps ahead, making sure we don't see it coming. He's probably the reason why Mindy, Anika, and Ethan are missing."

You glance at the open door. "So he's in there? With Tara...and Sam?" You look back at Kirby.

She can see it all over your face. She sits up some more, taking over pressure on her wound. "Go. I'll be fine. Just... be careful."

You hesitate for a moment, torn between staying with her and going in to help. She shakes her head and you make the decision then. You stand and glance back at her. "Don't die, you're my favorite character."

Kirby laughs, a slightly tinge of pain in it. "Just don't let the bastard win."

You nod once more then rush into the theater. Upon entering, you find Chad on the floor, blood covering his entire body. You bend over, your hands going to your knees as you feel something coming up.

"Oh god," you cover your mouth, shaking your head. For a second you stare at him, then you see the rise of his chest. It's barely noticeable but you see it. "Holy shit, he's alive." You mutter, kneeling to get a closer look.

You look around and find a piece of wood close by. You reach for it and use it to poke at Chad's side.

"Dude," you whisper, poking him again. "Dude, wake up. I read the script, you don't die." You jab the stick into his side.

He reacts with a groan, and you let out a sigh of relief. For a second, you started doubting yourself.

Chad lift his head, weak and slow. He finally locks eyes with you and he appears relieved. "Oh thank god," his voice is strained, dropping his head back down.

"Where are the others?" You asks quietly, poking him again to avoid him from knocking back out. He doesn't respond verbally, but instead, lifts a weak finger in a direction.

Behind the red curtains, you assume he wants to say. You exhale a breath and look back at him.

"Stay alive, there's only thirty minutes left in the movie," you pat his leg, earning a groan from him. You grimace, then apologize before standing.

Due to the students in your dorm building lacking any kind of weapon for protection, you only had a knife you found when you snuck into the dining room's kitchen. You're positive the cameras caught your face but that's something to worry about later.

You take the knife out of your waistband, grateful for whoever bought this fancy knife with a sort of sheath. You rip the sheath off and tread carefully as you peek behind the curtains.

Your jaw drops when you see Ethan standing there, in a black robe, next to another GhostFace. He holds the mask up to show Tara and Sam.

"This was your grandmother's, Sam. Nancy Loomis," he taps the mask with the knife in his hand. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it?"

Bailey keeps the gun held towards the sisters.

"Speaking of family," Ethan glances at Bailey, a wicked smile on his face. "My name's not Ethan Landry, is it, dad?"

"Dad?" You mouth just as Tara asks it out loud.

Bailey smiles at his son, proud. You roll your eyes, unable to believe how sadistic this is. Clearly this family needs therapy. Bailey got his son to kill his daughter.

Now that you think of it, was Quinn really Bailey's daughter? They don't look anything alike.

"But if you're Ethan," Sam's voice breaks you away from your thoughts. "That only leaves...Mindy?" She sounds betrayed.

The second GhostFace takes their mask off, and you cover your mouth to muffle your gasp.

"Hey, roomies," Quinn grins, laughing at their reactions. "Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

Your head spins, you had no idea horror fans were this creative. You really did not expect a plot twist...in real life. You need to sit down, you feel like your world is spinning in its axis.

"You...died," Tara's voice is unsure, staring at her roommate as tears fall freely down her cheeks.

"Yeah, but not really," Quinn scrunches her nose, shaking her head. "It was a good way to get off of Mindy's suspect list. Then we had the issue of..."

Ethan rolls his eyes. "Y/N, geez," he huffs, annoyed. "They almost ruined everything. We gave them the opportunity to leave..." he looks at his sister.

"They did put up a good fight," Quinn continues, and you can't help the scoff that escapes your lips. You clasps your hand over your mouth, not expecting it to echo throughout the theater.

There's a long moment of silence and you assume your cover is blown. But then Quinn continues...

"Luckily, they ended up being a coward," Quinn sighs, feigning sadness. "Sorry your crush is such a pussy, Tara."

A dark look crosses Tara's face, along with a head tilt. It looks like she's plotting her revenge at Quinn right there for speaking those words. You frown, both at the revelation and insult. It drives you to finally stop listening and come up with a plan. You pinch the bridge of your nose, reprimanding yourself for not thinking of a plan before actually trying to help.

Then, a thought crosses your mind. You're in your Deadpool era. He's no hero. You sure as hell aren't either.

When in doubt, annoyance was his best weapon.

"Either way, I die," you mutter to yourself, shrugging. You tuck the knife carefully back into your waistband and lift your shirt to cover it. "Let finish fucking them the fuck up." You murmur.

You glance around and come to find a lever. You decide it's better than nothing. So, you saunter over and pull it, smiling at the spotlight that appears center stage. It shines on Billy Loomis' wardrobe, and distracts all of them.

Bailey's aim falters as he looks around, along with his children.

"I had a Deadpool quote," you say as you step out from behind the curtains, walking towards the spotlight. "But I don't think Paramount has any kind of rights to his character."

You don't miss the way Bailey shifts his aim to you, the snarl on Ethan's face and the annoyed look on Quinn's.

You lift your arms and take a bow then lift a hand up to your ear. "I'm gonna need you to repeat what you said about me earlier, Quinn," you feign confusion. "You called me a...a what was it again?"

"You should've ran when you had the chance," Quinn says instead, huffing.

You glance at Tara and Sam, your eyes telling them to prepare themselves.

"And miss out on all the fun?" You shake your head. "Boy, do I have a lot to say? For starters, have you guys tried therapy? It's clear you need it."

Bailey grits his teeth. "Enough games, get down from there. You're outnumbered." He points to the spot next to Tara.

You put your foot down, dramatic and almost childishly. "No." You respond then move on. "Look, you guys have this whole plan to set up Sam as the villain and you guys are the heroes and blah blah blah...I don't know how people watch Stab movies if this is the basis of the movie." You roll your eyes, annoyed and bored.

"My son loved those movies," Bailey's hand trembles as he points his gun at you.

"Your son is Ethan," you retort, deadpan.

"He's talking about his other son, our dead brother," Quinn speaks up, snarling.

You roll your eyes. "Can't you mourn like normal people?"

Ethan narrows his eyes. "This coming from someone who lost their father not even a month ago?"

You grin, because when it comes to that, you're bulletproof. Humor is a defensive mechanism, for everyone in your family, so at the funeral, there were laughs. Crying yes, but more crying laughter than sadness crying.

You imitate a buzzer sound. "Try again. More feeling this time," you form a fake camera with your hands. "And action!" You shout.

Ethan grabs ahold of Tara and you drop your act, watching his knife get closer to her neck. Sam attempts to reach for her sister but Quinn steps in front of her, holding the knife out towards her.

You falter, dropping the annoying act for a second.

"You know," Ethan slides the knife against Tara's neck carefully, teasingly even. "I always wanted to see what you felt like..."

Tara grimaces as his mouth gets closer to her ear.

"The whole mommy issues really caught my attention," Ethan continues, and you can't control the look of disgust that crosses your face. "I mean, with ours..." he looks at Quinn, who laughs at his words.

"Ethan took care of her," Quinn says, looking between you and Sam. When realization crosses your faces, she laughs. "What kind of mother doesn't want to avenge her dead son?"

The words "A mentally stable one," is on the tip of your tongue but you control yourself.

Quinn meets Sam's eyes. "I bet you wish you could've killed yours," she taunts. Sam narrows her eyes with a glare that could kill. "There she is! There's that fucking killer!"

Tara glances at Bailey. "Great job with the parenting..."

Ethan tightens his hold on Tara, pressing the tip of the knife against her skin.

"Shut your whore mouth!" Quinn turns to Tara, almost cutting her arm.

With Tara in Ethan's hold and you and Sam unable to fight due to the need of keeping Tara safe, Bailey finally lowers his gun.

You clench your fists, doing your best to listen to Bailey as he talks about his son. You really try but you can't because you're focused on Ethan's knife being so close to Tara's neck. You never felt this amount of anger before, an anger that drives you to...kill.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside you. The anger is overwhelming, but you know that giving in to it will only make things worse. You can't let Ethan see how affected you are; you have to think strategically.

You lift your hands, giving in after the revelation of Richie being his son. "Alright," you say, making your way to the stairs. "You win. Let her go," you make your way down the steps carefully, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Ethan pushes Tara right into you and you manage to catch her before she falls over. Concern is written all over your face, your eyes traveling to her to be sure she didn't have any kind of injury. Your eyes connect with hers and she nods reassuringly, then she gives you a look that tells you that she forgives you.

All you can do is smile, relieved.

"And they say horror movies is just for the scares," Bailey wanders over, smirking between you and Tara. "You were right, Quinn. Bringing in the unwitting loner did come to work in our favor."

You gently and carefully move Tara behind you, Sam taking the advantage and grabbing her sister. “Thought it was hero?” You mutter under your breath.

Ethan laughs at the look on your face. "Hero? You think you weren't part of our plan?" He taunts, inching closer to you little by little. "God, do you know how annoying it was to hear Tara whine to Anika for you to join you guys on a game night or to a party? Jesus, she was desperate. But she would always punk out at the last second, avoiding you like a plague." His grin widens as he sees the gears turning in your head. "All those times she begged Anika to invite you, and then either never showed or she either bailed? Classic Tara. Classic you. Too scared to make a move, always running, and too scared to admit she wanted you there."

You're flattered. You had no idea someone saw you. You've been told you're so quiet, people tend to forget you're in the room. It had its advantage, you've heard a bunch of gossip.

He stops just inches away, his eyes narrowing. "But now? Now you're part of this, like it or not. And she's not the only one who's been keeping an eye on you. But then you had to actually attempt to be a hero," Ethan rolls his eyes. "You were suppose die that night, at the apartment. Who knew you had some fight in you?"

You shrug. "I watch anime, have an older brother and love superhero movies." You explain, aware he didn't ask.

Your patience was wearing thin, exactly how long do the villains monologue in horror movies? You're positive it shouldn't go on this long.

You groan, lifting your shirt slightly for the sisters to see the knife in your waistband, placing your hands on your hips. "Can we just get to you guys killing me already? Honestly, death is better than having to listen to your suppose tragedy. Boo-hoo, your brother's dead. It's the circle of life; move on."

Quinn isn't happy with your words and she steps forward, slashing her knife at you. You groan, failing to dodge it and feeling the blade slice your side.

You hold your side and step back, allowing the sisters closer access to the knife. You glance back, to make sure they're okay even though you were the target, but to also check if they got the message.

Sam nods, eyes giving you a message.

"He was pathetic," Sam speaks up while you check your wound. You grimace at the blood but don't waste time worrying about it.

Bailey raises his gun again. "That's not true–"

Sam's face changes, taunting them now. "He was man-baby who made his girlfriend do all the killings–"

"He was a strong virile young man!" Bailey shouts, gun in hand, shaking with rage.

"Ouch, guess your brother was the pussy," you're not going to get over the insult. Quinn snarls but doesn't move, knowing her father will do it for her.

"He was a weak little bitch," Sam spits, the words a slap to the face to the whole family. "Who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

Quinn lets her rage win, lunging at Sam with a scream loud enough to break glass. You feel the knife slide out of your waistband just before something connects with Quinn's face.

Throughout the chaos, Bailey drops his gun and your plan to grab it. What do you know about guns? Nothing. Do you know how to shoot or aim? Hell no, but just having the gun gives you an advantage, no?

You see Quinn stir in the corner of your eye and you turn to grab Tara, hearing Sam order her to run. You hurry her to the scaffolding and urge her to go but she shakes her head, determined.

"Sam! Come on!" Tara shouts, pausing midway up. You glance back at Sam, who, on her way over, grabs Bailey's fallen gun.

You let Sam go first, keeping your eyes trained on the happy family. Your eyes widen in realization when you see Bailey reach down, grabbing his spare gun in his ankle.

"Hurry!" You shout, ducking when you hear a shoot fire. You had pulled your hand away from the ladder to avoid being hit. "Jackass. You almost shot me!" You shout, narrowing your eyes.

"That was the point!" Bailey retorts, keeping his gun aimed at you. He looks up and you see him smirk at an open shot at Tara.

You run towards him but fail to make it in time to stop him from shooting. You hear Tara shout in pain but you keep going forward, tackling Bailey to the ground.

You don't hear the sisters struggle as you fight Bailey, or struggle to fight Bailey is better said. He is a cop after all, and all you know is defense with some cool final knockout moves from video games and anime.

Ethan's laugh roars. "I always wanted to stick something in you, Tara!" Your defense falls at his words, glancing towards him to see him waiting for Tara to fall.

It kicks in some adrenaline, helping you find some strength to kick Bailey off you. He grunts, surprised by your strength and topples over. You jump to your feet, kicking his gun away before you run over to help Tara.

But you stop in your tracks when you see she can handle herself. Ethan practically eating the knife in her hands, digging it deeper as she whispers something you can't hear to him.

His body falls limp and you hurry over to Tara, noticing her stagger a little. You hold her waist, keeping her upright.

"You okay?" You ask, searching her for any injuries. You notice the blood seeping from a wound in her abdomen then another in her arm. Bailey's shot only grazed her arm but still managed to do some damage.

"You came back," Tara states, a small smile on her lips.

"Yeah," you chuckle softly, then look around to be sure you were in the clear. "I promise to make it up to you later. Let's go before one of these psychos gets–"

You hear a gun go off, then Bailey's scream follows. You look up along with Tara, confused by Bailey's appearance up in scaffolding with Sam.

You attempt to climb the stairs to help but stop when you see Sam has it perfectly handled. Bailey falls over, eyes falling shut as he does.

Out of breath, Sam leans over to look at you and Tara. "Welcome back," the older Carpenter greets you, tired.

You send her a small smile, saluting in her direction. You look around, Ethan's body close by before you look between the sisters.

"I...I don't really know what's next," you say. "Is it over? Please say it's over." You ask, hopeful.

Tara shares a look with Sam. You understand well when they look back at you, that it isn't.

"There's one more act," Sam says, laughing gently at your frown. "Think you can handle it?"

You look at Tara, and she looks hopeful. You're reeled in again by her eyes, as always. So you look back at Sam, sighing tiredly, but with a determined look on your face.

"What part do I play?"

[kingorqueenofnarnia]

TCON HEADCANON

.

Peter used to be the tallest of the four, until Susan turned fourteen and shot up to six feet— one inch taller than him. It earned him weeks of teasing from his three little shits until he hit sixteen and and shot up half a foot, reaching an astounding six feet four inches. This was in the middle of a campaign against the Raiders of Korentha, and even he did not realise he had grown until he returned home from war and suddenly he had to tilt his head down to look at Susan. Susan sulked for days, and was only appeased when Peter gifted her a beautiful pair of high heels. Peter likes being tall, even though he's not as tall as a Centaur— Susan likes his bear hugs, and he gets to make fun of the younger ones for being tiny squirts. Lucy regularly climbs him like a jungle gym until she hits her own growth spurt.

Susan cut an imposing figure at 15, with wide shoulders and a slender torso, standing at an impressive 6 feet even without her famous heels. She hated it at first— girls from England were short, much shorter than her, and so were many of the men. She always felt a little self conscious in a crowd because of how she towered over the average human. In Narnia, however, it was different. Druids and Naiads and Dryads regularly reached six feet, and centaurs were rarely shorter than seven. Fauns were short, but Bears stood on their hind legs and towered over her only to hand out the warmest hugs Susan had ever experienced apart from Peter's. Secretly though, no matter how much she teased Peter about being shorter than her, she was glad when he grew taller than her. (His hugs aren't as comforting if you're taller than him, alright?)

Halfway through Edmund's fifteenth year of existence, he was both shocked and pleased to find out he did not need to tilt his head back to look at Peter anymore. Peter was 18 and a giant, bear-like warrior king, his furs and long braids and armour making him look even larger, and Edmund was a lanky teenager with remnants of baby fat still on his cheeks and wiry muscle wrapped around thin bones— both of them were the same height, but Edmund looked boyish where Peter looked manly. It took him till he was in his early twenties to match Peter's bulk, but he stayed as tall as Peter for the rest of his life, not an inch here or there. (and Peter thanks the Fates for that. He doesnt know if he could withstand the amount of heckling that would come with being shorter than his brother.)

Lucy was the shortest of them her entire life. Until she was 14, she was about 5ft 4 inches, at which point she started growing like a weed and stopped at the very admirable height of five feet ten inches— just two inches short of Susan's height. It infuriated her to no end; being shorter than everyone was annoying, and even more so when you weren't actually short at all, just shorter than your siblings. At 5'10, she towered over many Narnian species as well as her classmates when she returned to England and went through puberty a second time, but she loved it. She loved being taller, loved that she was only shorter than her siblings— they may annoy her by teasing her about their heights, but being smaller meant the hugs were better, and really, why would she give up on a chance to climb Peter like a monkey so she could sit on his shoulders? No, Su, she doesn't care that it looks uncouth.

[kararomanoff]

once upon a time a daddy just wanted her baby

this was written by a minor, if that makes you uncomfortable just don’t read

You are at an archery competition and stay in a hotel where all the other contestants are also staying. Kate Bishop was always your main competition, she was your enemy , but one night you appears at her room door. (G!P Kate)

warning: g!p Kate, daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, pet names, oral sex (r giving), p in v sex

You had done archery since as long as you could remember, your grandpa had been the first person to teach you always spending time together in your grandparents garden practicing, he was your best friend and when your mom who was his daughter died you and your dad moved in with him.

He had always been there for you even when you came out and your dad had shouted of days until he decided to leave your life over it and yet again grandpa was there, he was now all you have, him and archery.

you first met Kate Bishop when you where eleven, you where at your first serious archery competition sitting on the bench waiting till it was your turn when she came up to you and said ''apparently your who im up against to win, your just a stupid little girl your not going to win'' she was 14 at the time and that's how it's been since ; her thinking very little of you and you wanting to prove how good you are.

now sitting in a hotel room in berlin alone trying to figure out why Kate has only ever been horrible to you for these seven years. You had never known or asked why and it made everything hell, you never started doing archery competitively for the competition you did it for the community and for getting friends that had the same interest as you and all she had done had made it something scary, you didn't want to try prove yourself all the time just for her to never change, she is twenty one now and still acting the same as she did at fourteen, its ridiculous.

you need to speak to her. you need to shout in her face and tell her how she made hell out of you life.

she was some where in this hotel, all the contestants are.

you walk down to the reception desk ''hi, i was just wondering if you could tell me what room Kate Bishop is staying in, i need to speak to her'' you speak to the middle aged woman ''are they expecting you?''

''no'' you feel nervous now, what if you cant speak to her

''one second let me call and check its okay for me to give you her room number'' shit there is no way Kate is going to give it to you.

You wait as anxiously as she phones knowing Kate will give you shit for this when you next see her.

she comes off the phone ''she said yes, its room 1457'' you thank the woman for her help and then make you way to Kates room now having no idea what you are going to say or why she is letting you in her room.

you get the door of room 1457, Kate's room, her room. You knock on the door and wait what feels like forever till the door opens. Kate stands there in a shirt and her boxers, you cant help but stare at the outline of her cock and think about how big she is but you stop yourself.

You look back up, her lips held in a steady smirk ''I need to speak to you'' she nods and moves to the side to let you in. Kate sits down on the bed as if you weren't even there as you a stand as far away as you can.

''why are you here little girl hm? isnt it past your bed time''

''mm yeah it is but- what no Kate im 18 i dont have a bed time'' you lie, you did have a bed time that you had chosen but you couldnt tell her that.

''awww you do have a bed time dumb baby, when is it, 7pm?'' she laughs

you feel small when she treats you like this; which is practically when ever she speaks to you. ''no it at 10:45'' you mutter under your breath

''oh look at that its 10:35 ten minute till bed time and you here, do you need me to read you a bed time story? give you some milk?'' you shake your head feeling powerless against her ''come here'' Kate demands softly but you not move ''I SAID COME HERE!'' you walk over to the bed and stand in front of it ''little girl you cant go to bed in your clothes'' she sounds so evil ''Kate i cant do that'' you speak quietly ''you can and you will or i'll make you'' she threats and so you take your clothes off until your left in your bra and panties.

Kate stands up from the bed and walks behind you till towers over you. She presses her front on your back and you can feel her hard dick against you. ''you cant sleep with a bra on, such a dumb girl'' Kate tuts as she unhooks your bra till it slips off ''be a good girl for once and lie down on the bed for daddy'' you do as you told and lie down.

''now daddys going to tell you a story little girl okay'' she sits down at the desk chair and cups her cock through her boxers

''m'kay''

'' once upon a time a daddy just wanted her baby but her baby was bad and wont spend time with her daddy and that made her daddy very sad'' Kate pulls her boxers down till her dick comes out, she wraps her hand around it and start to move her hand up and down ''all the daddy wanted to do was care and teach and give her little girl super special treats but her baby was dumb and kept running away and then... well...'' she stands up to properly take off her boxers ''daddy had to punish her little girl'' you where in shock but also so very turned on it was embarrassing

''come to daddy baby'' you got up and stood in front of her ''your gonna be a good little obedient thing and suck daddys big special treat to apologise for being such a mean bad dumb little girl, open for daddy'' you open your mouth and she shoves her cock inside, you whine never have having a dick in your mouth, Kate know this, she know you where her good virgin and she know that she was going to take that from you and turn you into her fuck toy.

Kate grabbed you by your hair as she started to thrust into your mouth not caring about your whine and moans or the tears running down your face ''fucking take daddys giant cock take it'' her thrust speed up and her grip on your hair tightens ''fuck such a little whore all for daddy, bet your soaked hm? bet your pussy trying to grip onto nothing cause you want daddy in you so much''

''daddys gonna cum and you are gonna swallow every. last. fucking. drop'' and as she says that she cums send it all the way down your throat.

a minute later she pulls her dick out of your mouth, a string of her cum and your saliva going from your mouth to your her pretty pink tip '' take your pantie off and then get on the bed on all fours'' she commands and yet again you do as your told still wanting to prove how good you are.

''look at you doing what i tell you too, did daddy fuck some sense into you little one?'' you tried to reply but anything you tried to say was incoherent.

''this is gonna hurt at first but then it'll really really good, daddy promises'' Kate rasps as she starts to push her length

''mhmm daddy i-'' you moan

''i know slut daddy feels so good'' she then fills you with the entirety of her cock

''so fucking tight for daddy'' she starts to move pretty fast for at first but shes been waiting years for this. You had never given her a break, always being a good innocent girl with the bonus of daddy issues. Kate had lost count of the amount of times she jerked of thinking of her pretty baby, you've always been her pretty baby you just hadn't known. She was going to make you her dumb baby and you weren't going to say no.

you where close already, Kate could feel it; she could feel you squeezing her tight. ''so wet, is this all for daddy little girl?''

''yes daddy, yes all for you'' you where mindless at this point.

''you mine, mine only'' she husk possessively

''only daddys''

''fuck thats right whore'' Kate moans

''daddy i- i feel weird'' you cry out not really understanding the way your body feels.

''let it go baby, cum for daddy'' and then you came feeling so free and overwhelmed and floaty, suddenly thought you feel to much, over stimulated as she continues to thrust into you even faster than before.

'' 's to much daddy'' but she doesn't stop

''but daddy need to cum stupid baby''

'' 'm okay'' you tiredly reply

''fuck daddys gonna cum'' Kate paints your walls white as you whine.

Kate pulls out of you as you blink trying to keep your eyes open ''you did so good for daddy, everythings gonna be okay now i can look after you. sleep little one''

[corrodeheavenn]

So with Chapter 2 finished I did some calculations on how long it'd take to binge watch DRDT!

To binge the whole prologue would take a little under an hour (exactly 54:41) To binge the whole first chapter would take four hours (exactly 04:11:56) To binge the whole second chapter would take eight hours (exactly 08:03:23)

So to binge the whole main series, not counting any bonus content, it would take thirteen hours (exactly 13:10:00)

(also holy shit, Chapter 2 is nearly double the length of Chapter 1! (thank you drdtdev, you're amazing and we love you! have a good, long break!)

Okay, for bonus content, I won't be including the demo, any trailers, the chapter 1 recap, or any compilations. I plan to update this whenever new content drops, but if it falls into any of the aforementioned, then it'll be skipped/not included in the calculations. As for what I did include, that'd be the two bonus episodes, the fte video, and the three MVs!

I combined the bonus episodes, and they're roughly half an hour (exactly 25:30)

The three MVs together are actually exactly ten minutes long (10:00) assuming you don't rewatch any of them (unlikely)

You don't need me to say so, but the FTE video is about half an hour on its own (27:39)

Putting them all together, you can get through all of them in an hour (01:03:09)

So if you wanted to watch both the main series and bonus content, it would take fourteen hours (14:13:09)

That means you can theoretically binge the whole series in one day if you have the day off! Which is something you can tell your friends as a reason for them to watch the series! You don't even need to sacrifice sleep to do it! (even with the recommended eight hours of sleep you'd have two extra hours to spare, so as long as you sleep for less than ten hours a day you can spend a whole day watching DRDT!)

[thecoleopterawithana]

Suicide

If when she tries to run away / And he calls her back, she comes / If there's a next time, he's okay / Cause she's under both his thumbs She'll limp along to his side / Singing a song of ruin, I'd / Bet he says nothin' doin' / I'd, I'd call it suicide

This is likely one of the first songs Paul ever wrote. It predates Rock 'n Roll washing up onto the Mersey shores and the tingles that started going up and down Paul's spine. Not yet acquainted with his "confidante", Paul's earliest compositions were done instead on his home piano.

This particular tune seems to have come about around Paul's fourteenth birthday, in mid-1956. It is not known how this song sounded at its genesis: did it already have the lyrics, or was it like the contemporaneous "When I'm Sixty-Four", for which he originally had only the tune?

We hear "Suicide" for the first time in the Get Back sessions, with complete lyrics and John joining in right from the first verse. From Paul's comments on the song, it does seem like he had the lyrics in mind from the get-go:

That was a song I’d had forever, since I was about 16. I had my Dad’s old piano at home, that I used to tinker about on when there was no-one in the house. And my feelings were, then, that if you were ever going to be a songwriter, the height of it all was Sinatra. That would be the greatest stuff that you could do, really a little bit before rock ‘n’ roll, so you were thinking of standards and things. So around that time I wrote “When I’m 64” and this other thing. I thought it would be a bit of a Rat Pack, smoochy, with words like “When she tries to, run away, uh-huh…” Boom! And stabs from the band, you know.

— Paul McCartney, in the McCartney - Archive Collection (2011) liner notes.

I'm curious about the timing because, in usual McCartney fashion, we have quite dark lyrics being camouflaged by a jaunty little tune (à la "Maxwell Silver Hammer", "Another Day", etc.) And they are made even darker if they were written by a fourteen-year-old boy.

When I first heard of this song, I assumed, based on the title, that it'd been written after Mary's death. So I was quite surprised when I saw its origin dated to potentially even earlier than that (although I don't really know what information these estimations are based on).

Regardless of the exact date of origin, this song had been on my mind since I heard it brought up in @anotherkindofmindpod's Fine Tuning: Ep 2 Shoulder to Shoulder. Together with Ep 4 Shells & Barriers and the wonderful analyses that emerged from it, I've been wondering about what influenced teenage Paul to write a song about a woman trying (and failing) to escape an abusive marriage. From @bidisasterhawkeye's contribution to the aforementioned post:

For those unaware, Paul's mother had a quite tragic background. The second of four children, her younger sister Agnes died at age two (cause unknown) when Mary was around eight years old. When Mary was ten, her mother died giving birth to another baby girl (who also died). At that point, Mary's older brother left their home in Liverpool to join the army and Mary's father took Mary and her toddler brother, Bill, back to his home country of Ireland. In Ireland, they apparently lived in extreme poverty as Mary's father tried and failed to become a farmer. Ten year old Mary was apparently not enrolled in school there because she was given the role of homemaker and mother to her baby brother. When Mary was around 13, her father went to Liverpool and acquired a second wife with children of her own, and this new stepmother was apparently "cruel" enough that Mary ran away at age 14 (as did Bill later).

I might have seen it mentioned somewhere around here recently (please let me know if you know where!), but it's curious that Paul wrote about women running away in "Suicide" and "She's Leaving Home", when his own teenage mother went through the same. The latter song seems to apply better to Mary's situation at fourteen. Whose story is Paul telling in "Suicide"?

Maybe it's not that deep, and "Suicide" is indeed only a joke song. Paul certainly seems to want us to believe that:

It was a real early song of mine, and I used to do it as a joke, really. […] So I never did anything with it but around the time of McCartney, I was just goofing around on piano and at the end of one of the takes there was a little bit of tape left, so I just did it and didn’t think to use it because it was Rat Pack, tongue in cheek. But I used that little fragment at the end of one of the tracks, ‘Glasses’.

Haha, good ol' Paul, goofing around with a meaningless little tune called "Suicide" right around the same time stuff like this was happening:

I was going through a bad time, what I suspect was almost a nervous breakdown. I remember lying awake at night shaking, which has not happened to me since. One night I'd been asleep and awoke and I couldn't lift my head off the pillow. My head was down in the pillow, I thought, Jesus, if I don't do this I'll suffocate. I remember hardly having the energy to pull myself up, but with a great struggle I pulled my head up and lay on my back and thought, That was a bit near! I just couldn't do anything. I had so much in me that I couldn't express and it was just very nervy times, very very difficult.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles' Many Years From Now (1997).

I'll leave further ruminations on the emotional implications of "Suicide" to your discretion. Or we can take a page out of Lewisohn's book and simply conclude:

But though the words wanted work (and didn’t get it), ["Suicide"] was a charming little tune, a dance-band piece with a dash of modernity, light, engaging and original … quite exceptional for a first attempt by a boy on the cusp of 14.

[ochrearia]

RBG ART PROMPTS LIST

All of these are things I'm pulling from my Poly Propaganda fanfic series because there are an alarming amount of drawable parts, either super vague or super specific lets get it.

(THIS POST WILL BE UPDATED WITH EACH NEW PART THAT COMES OUT BY THE WAY)

Part One:

BF smacking his dumbass leg straight into a metal pole while he daydreams about smooching GF and Pico

BF confined to the bed with an ice pack on said pole-smashed leg like a doofus

Part Two:

3. Pico relenting to GF holding his head in her hands, pushing his cheeks into the touch

4. Yourself shaking BF by the shoulders (THINK, MARK) telling him to snap out of his stupid fears

5. Pico and GF littering BF's cheeks with kisses after the scare

Part Three:

6. "I'm going to kiss the shit out of you if you keep this up." "Maybe that's what I want, hitman."

7. Little spoon BF big spoon Pico

Part Four:

8. Pico flaunting his new chromatics with a smug ass look and a mic

9. BF and GF with flushed faces because Pico's voice is hot

10. Pico laughing his ass off because he's got simps for his voice

Part Five:

11. Pico and BF fighting over the TV remote like toddlers

12. BF being an asshole abusing the fact Pico is ticklish

13. GF happy and indulging in the laughter of her boys

14. Any one of the three laughing w/ the provided synesthesia-induced colors

Part Six:

15. Pico gently holding a """"sleeping"""" GF in his lap while he talks out loud about how he's grown to love her

Part Seven:

16. BF and Pico riled up and pissed about some prick insulting GF

17. GF using her demon wings and purr to cuddle and placate them both

18. Flustered Pico because BF and GF always gang up to tease him

Part Eight:

19. BF being held by Pico and GF while he rides out a bad day

Part Nine:

20. All of the kisses in this part honestly there's a handful

21. Goofy smile and happy Pico because he's got silly butterflies in his stomach while he gets kissies

Part Ten:

22. 3 tired idiots in their sleepwear trying to unpack boxes

23. Trio piled together on a blanket-less bed, BF and Pico using GF's arms as pillows

Part Eleven:

24. FRIDAY NIGHT PAMPERIN'

25. "You can't go from frat boy to horrendously homosexual in two seconds!" "Waaa waaa it’s called bisexuality you ginger homophobe, pick a struggle goddamn."

26. GF and Pico taking the wildest double takes after BF admits to loving hearing them laugh

27. Pico whacking the shit out of BF with a pillow for the prior comment

Part Twelve:

28. BF and GF holding onto Pico for dear life while a thunderstorm goes off outside

Part Thirteen:

29. Absolute menace BF abusing the fact Pico and GF get all hot bothered and weak to his neck kisses

30. GF and Pico turning the tables immediately in revenge flustering the fuck out of BF

Part Fourteen:

31. BF's dream sequence

32. Yourself helping BF calm down + hug + Silly Billy music box lullaby

33. GF telling Yourself she's proud of him (accidentally sets him on an immediate spiral to a breakdown)

Part Fifteen:

34. Literally any of the three struggling with being touch-starved. Pick one or all

Part Sixteen:

35. Pico having a mental crisis over possibly being in love with both BF and GF

36. GF and BF comforting Pico after his outburst-breakdown

37. "Wanna be in a poly relationship with us?" "I'm scared about being in a relationship again but yes, yes I want to so badly"

Part Seventeen:

38. CUDDLE SANDWICH.

39. Pico hugging BF and/or GF like it's his last second alive

40. BF and GF joke fighting over who'd get to keep Pico in their pocket

Part Eighteen:

41. BF and GF dancing all silly in golden hour light

42. "My heart. My home. Together you are both, two people together as one. Where my love lies."

43. BF kissing the breath out of Pico

44. Stupid lovesick idiot snuggle pile

Part Nineteen:

45. Pretty tooth gap smile Pico

46. BF menace-ry

47. Puppy dog eyes GF

Part Twenty:

48. GF with her demonic features out being a hot girlboss

49. Dumbfounded BF having the hots for GF lmfao. Pico "Close your mouth BF fuck's sake"

50. Literally any part of the flirting. Jesus christ.

Part Twenty-One:

51. Koala-bear cuddly Pico

52. BF and GF reminiscing, also trying to get their stupid ginger to SLEEP DAMMIT

Part Twenty-Two:

53. Cherryblast kisses

54. BF dumbass smoking cigarettes and being distracted by random trinkets

55. BF MELTING TO UNDER-JAW KISSES

Part Twenty-Three:

56. Yourself/Silly Billy sticking halfway out the mirror talking to BF

57. BF absolutely yapping about being in love like a FREAK

58. Pico and GF in an absolute trance because Boyfriend.XML yaps. Literal heart eyes

Part Twenty-Four:

59. GF in BF's shirt

60. BF in Pico's sweater

61. Pico being an absolute sucker for both of them

Part Twenty-Five:

62. Pico and Nene about to kill the shit out of each other

63. "I DO NOT HAVE A LOVERBOY VOICE" -Pico, lying,

64. Darnell and Nene just being amused as fuck over how lap-dog core their friend has become

65. But in the same vein D and N are secretly really happy for Pico so it works out

Part Twenty-Six:

66. Pico losing it over the realization his two special someones trust him with their lives

67. Demon weighted blanket GF for Pico

68. BF spouting "I love you" over and over to the sleeping Pico in his arms

Part Twenty-Seven:

69. Pico calling BFGF freaks and attacking them /silly

70. BFGF with knowing looks watching Pico lean into their hands without thinking about it

Part Twenty-Eight:

71. Hypothetically, RGB existing as space debris for the rest of their lives, because they'd rather be together than alone

72. BF singing without his auto-tune microphone and absolutely enamoring GF and Pico

73. Pico kissing the knuckles of BF's hand because he would be a hand kisser.

Part Twenty-Nine:

74. Pico drowning in his own guilt and fear of being controlling over BF and GF

75. Yourself and Pico staring each other down like the stubborn shits they are

76. BF and GF terrified while Pico breaks down in their arms because seeing him upset makes them upset too

Part Thirty (M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT):

77. I mean it's just 1.8k words of body worship as of last update. Just any part of it tbh. Pico gets fucked up by GF and BF LMAOOOO

Part Thirty-One:

78. Pico completely asleep and being GF's personal teddy bear

79. GF using her magic to remove her offending musical emotions out of her head and glaring at them in the air

80. Pico having a heart attack over the form of how GF sees him, holding it to his chest and being so fucking in love

81. Pico also exploding into a blush because BF and GF kiss his musical self

Part Thirty-Two:

82. BF cuddled up against Pico's sweater nuzzling his nose in it

83. GF and Pico sad/angry that the world taught BF his birthday wasn't important

Part Thirty-Three:

84. Pico just horrendously collapsed on the couch because he can no longer move bitch is TIRED

85. BF CARRYING PCIO BRIDAL STYLE WHILE HE YELLS ABOUT NOT NEEDING TO BE CARRIED (he does)

86. Shy Pico soaking in the hot bath when BF and GF beg him to let them take care of him

87. All three of them in bed, Pico's nose pushed into BF's thigh while GF rubs his bare back in comfort

88. Pico squeezing the life out of an M-Raptor plushie

89. Freckle kisses...

Part Thirty-Four:

90. GF "I want to hold", BF "I want to be held", Pico "Both"

91. Pico losing the war against being sappy

92. GF in the kitchen with her scented candle hoard

Part Thirty-Five:

93. Pico singing to a "sleeping" BF

94. BF and GF arguing like an old married couple over who gets to be serenaded by Pico while he just sits there dying of embarrassment

95. Pico giving in and singing to both of them

Part Thirty-Six:

96. BF and GF flirting with each other calling each other pretty

97. A dozing Pico, comforted by his partners being flirty and loving behind him

98. Pico getting 3 seconds of victory by making BF blush calling him a pretty boy

99. GF giving Pico chin scritches that he enjoys far too much

100. BF getting Pico back, calling him a pretty boy and making him red in the face instead

Part Thirty-Seven:

101. Koala-Bear Pico with GF while she sleeps and he cuddles her for comfort

102. BF with Pico in his arms, petting comforting patterns into his back and singing the song "i5 pt. 2" to him with his real voice

103. Hypothetical post-fic trio cuddle pile where they're all tangled up in each other

Part Thirty-Eight:

104. Full demon mode GF with the black and red monarch butterfly patterned wings

105. Demon GF's lavender skin glowing with magic as she leaks the song of her emotions out into the air

106. Hurt/Comfort on the balcony, GF crying while clinging to BF and Pico

107. RGB back in bed cuddling with GF in the middle this time, for once

Part Thirty-Nine:

108. I mean. It's literally just about PicoBF and PicoGF makeouts... Staring directly into the camera like it's the office

109. But also BF calling Pico a "Needy Little Thing" on purpose

Part Forty:

110. More YS and BF shenanigans

111. BF bouncing around like an excited puppy about his poem

112. Pico not being able to Handle Poetry Written About Him

113. Storm of Demon Kissies for the boys!!!

[marlenacantswim]

BAM headcanons for your little guy????

i can always count on you, whoop <333

i'm thinking ab the tenth doctor real hard bc of that novel i just read, so imma drop some headcanons ab him and his companions, and probably 14 too bc i'm feeling it.

ten's got a little bit of a chew stim / oral fixation. this is inspired both by the number of times he holds objects in his mouth in the show, and him chewing the end of his stethoscope in Prisoner of the Daleks.

fourteen, meanwhile, learns he has a LOT of a chew stim once he's settled into his new life with the nobles. the discovery unfortunately comes at the cost of sylvia's second favorite spatula, which 14 absentmindedly chewed a hole into while making himself eggs one morning.

tentoo and rose celebrate the day she and nine first met as their anniversary. when they get married (through a lowkey traditional timelord wedding to "celebrate his heritage"), they make sure to hold the ceremony on that same day.

one january day, a few years into their relationship, rose is telling tentoo how worried and stressed she is about her job prospects. tentoo reassures her by saying "i think you're gonna have a great year :)" which suddenly unlocks the memory she'd had of meeting ten on new year's, 2005. since tentoo doesn't remember this, they both conclude that it must have been the actual doctor visiting her sometime after the metacrisis, and through her description of the events, tentoo silently realizes that ten was there because he was dying.

14 has a sleep pattern of about one or two nights of restless insomnia, followed by one night of deep, babylike sleep that lasts for 10 hours if uninterrupted. it's not uncommon, on these nights, to find him asleep in front of a project he's been working on, as he is the only one in the house who has not yet recognized this pattern.

as a time lord, he doesn't need to sleep this much in theory, but my mans is so tired, and for the first time like, ever, he has the space to actually catch up on lifetimes of lost sleep.

time lord dreams tend to be five-dimensional, but the trends can change with regenerations. for instance, nine's dreams were only ever three-dimensional, and always in black and white. ten's dreams have a wild range of possibilities, from so photorealistic he confuses them with real memories, to so abstract that the experience is more akin to being the subject of a picasso painting. he dreams every time he falls asleep, even if he's just taking a nap. 14's dreams are always photorealistic.

donna snores. not super loud, but enough to be obvious to anyone but her. ten always found the rhythmic sound soothing; pulsing white noise like that of the tardis. he'd often fall asleep in the same room as her because of it. all of this applies to 14 as well, to the extent that, some mornings, donna and shaun find him curled up into a ball asleep at the foot of their bed like a dog.

martha and the nobles keep very well in touch, to the occasional horror of 14 who has no idea how to read her and feels pathetically awful about how he treated her during her time as a companion. martha honestly still believes he's the most amazing thing, but she's gotta admit that watching him sweat bullets every time she addresses him feels kinda cathartic, so she has no qualms putting off that talk.

martha has also since pivoted back to the medical field, where she is doing quite well, thank you for asking.

since we see ten in the pjs from "The Christmas Invasion" again in "Smith and Jones", i choose to believe that he liked them so much that he simply kept them. i imagine the conversation with jackie went "howard won't miss these, will he?" "miss what?" "thought not. okay thanks, bye!"

i also imagine ten makes an active effort to sleep in the pajamas as often as he's able. he sleeps about thrice as much as nine ever did, all because he's obsessed with the fun ritual of wearing them to bed.

ten actually has a mild but sensitive allergy to cats. he never realized this, not because he didn't ever have the opportunity to, but because he was always too preoccupied to piece together that the reason his psychic functions felt fuzzy and the psychic paper used a misplaced modifier and the skin near his collarbone itched was because he was in the same room as a cat five minutes ago.

this is why it took him a second to piece together what exactly was off with rose in "New Earth": his ambient telepathy was too fuzzed over from the cat nurses to notice rose's brainwaves were wrong.

having a human brain, tentoo's memory faculties are still giga-impressive for a human, but not nearly as robust as his timelord counterpart's. he still remembers events, emotions, and concepts clearly, his biggest regressions being in the categories of exact terminologies and complex mathematical processes. the loss he's most distraught about is the vast majority of languages he once knew. he can still speak and understand all earth languages and gallifreyan fluently, but his knowledge of xenolinguistics is relegated to the occasional profound vocab word he remembers fondly.

a lot of these ended up being sleep-related for whatever reason; maybe i just want the man to rest </3

[jessilynallendilla]

BEN 10 FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

Cold  G 2,161 

Just because Ben isn't an Anodite like Gwen doesn't mean that he doesn't have anything in common with his grandmother. 

Back To The Future?  T 

It should have been a routine in-and-out mission. So when things go wrong (as per usual) and Ben thinks he's dead for sure, he's a bit surprised to find himself waking up in the Rustbucket with a ten-year-old Gwen sleeping on the bunk below him, and the calendar on the RV fridge indicating that it was the middle of June in 2006. 

Arguably, The Second Worst Thing To Happen To Rook Blonko  T 3,849 

Ben and Rook meet as kids, during the same summer Ben got the Omnitrix. When Rook can't be returned to his home planet, he ends up in Max Tennyson's care, and he and Ben become best friends. 

Ben 10 Writing Prompts  G 5,471 

A series of Ben 10 writing prompts on tumblr that people, and I, wanted to be saved onto AO3. Here ya go. 

Black Stripes  M 

With the Omnitrix around his wrist Ben's mission in life is to solely help in creating a better universe, however on a mission with his Grandfather Max he never expected to see just how ugly the universe could really be. With a submissive feline type alien bound to his side in servitude Ben's finding out once again just how ugly the universe is, and just how small he is compared to those who wish to tear him and everyone he loves down. 

Benmommy  G 2,124 

Kenny and Gwendolyn (and Devlin) find out that they have older brothers. Ben attempts to be a parent to his other kids. 

14 Of 10  G 

Set After Vengeance of Vilgax. Ben soon gets word of a Poacher kidnapping fourteen Necrofriggians and leaps into action. After his team rescues his babies, Ben decides it’s better for them to return to Earth and be raised there due to them having more humanity in them, causing other Necrofriggians to isolate them from others of their species. How will the Tennyson’s react with the latest members of their family coming? 

Cross Your Heart (And Hope To Die)  T 150,756 SERIES 

By some cruel twist of fate, it was a freak accident that killed Ben Tennyson. When Rook received a cosmic second chance at undoing the disaster that he blamed himself for, he first thought of it as a blessing. Until the same day repeated again. And again and again and again. 

Metamorphosis  T 

Suddenly, and without explanation, the Omnitrix becomes more. Ben, himself, becomes More. And maybe a little less human along the way. Or, Yes, Rook, Ben’s Eyes Have Always Been This Green, Giving Electric Shocks by Accident is Helpful Actually, How Many Eyes Do Humans Have Anyways, Ben Can Hear Every Equation, The Terrifying Ordeal of One the Most Powerful Tools in The Universe Attached To Your Body, Hey Attaching Alien Technology To Your Body Hurts Actually, The Watch Is Sentient, Ignore Ben's Left Arm It Has Always Been This Black and Green! 

Soccer Moms Drive Minivans  T 3,001 

PTA meetings get infinitely more interesting when one of the parents is barely twenty and also the father of fourteen alien babies. 

Keep the Charm But Don't Break My Heart  T 

There's one thing about Big Chill's Offspring that needs to be said: They'll do anything to find one another but also they're children that still need a bit of help. Luckily, Ben is willing to step in and help them. Or: A series of one-shots centred around each of the children as they find their way back home again. 

CROSSOVERS 

Who Are You?  T 92,750 

Danny was on patrol when he felt a prick on his side. Later on, he wakes up in a cell where a boy is thrown in by mysterious men in black and white uniforms. The two of them becomes friends when another boy their age enters their cell to do his job. The results was unsatisfactory for everyone. What will happen to the three boys? 

Space Hockey And Mothbabies  T 2,941 SERIES 

Danny takes an unexpected trip to the omniverse, Kevin owes Danny a favor, and Ben suffers for his crimes against ghost kind. 

Omni-Justice  NR 1,483 

The Justice League is luckily in a meeting when an alien conqueror issues a challenge to Earth. They began planning almost immediately but Green Lantern put a stop to it instantly. It’s not their challenge to answer so they can not interfere. 

What Is A Kryptonian And Why Is He In My Omnitrix  T 

Ben 10 finds his way into the DC universe. Shenanigans ensue. 

Ben, You're A Mother!?  G 

While in a fight with Captain Cold, Flash discovers a small blue little moth alien that has strayed too far from home. This leads the Justice League down a path of finding out a whole lot of new things about their new teammate and recruit, Ben Tennyson. One of those things being the fact that he is apparently a mother to fourteen little ice moth babies! Hilarity, chaos, and family shenanigans ensue 

[kazimakuwabara]

I remember seeing some art for a genderfluid Kuwabara on here, and you mentioned thinking up a fanfic of that. I really loved that idea, so since you’re taking requests, would you still want to write that, if it’s no trouble?

I'm actually still writing that fic! I've got about a dozen chapters written, but it's been slow going. A lot of research, second-guessing, things of that nature. Since I am writing that fic I'll share part of it with you. Here is a couple pages from the Genderfluid Kuwabara story. The working title is: Fluid, Like Friendship.

Hiei, oddly enough, has seen Kuwabara in lipstick three times now.

This third time, outside a convenience store, with Kuwabara a little tipsy, and leaning down to apply the cheap product to his lips via the car’s side mirror, seems somehow significant.

Really significant.

The first time Hiei had seen it, Kuwabara was asleep, and fifteen. Maybe fourteen. Hiei wasn’t sure about either Kuwabara or Yusuke’s ages during the dark tournament.

Hiei was still hiding his injured hand, and everyone was quietly stewing over the wins and losses in their prospective matches. Hiei had wandered back into his shared hotel room, and spotted Shizuru, Kuwabara’s apparent elder sister. She was sitting on a bed, leaned over a hulking body, who Hiei assumed was Kuwabara.

Moved by curiosity, he came to see what she was doing.

To his shock and sudden amusement, she was putting a bright pink lipstick on her sleeping brother’s face. The lipstick was being applied liberally, but smoothly. It did not suit his pale skin or copper hair… too… clashing. Too bright.

“The colors don’t suit him,” Hiei remarked.

Shizuru, to her credit, does not jump or flinch. She finished with the lipstick and then pulled out a green powder, which she applied to his eyes. “That’s not the point,” she added once one of his eyelids is dark green… which is actually nice against his skin.

“...What is the point?” Hiei asked.

“Payback for running off to this stupid thing, and not telling me!” Shizuru grumped.

And then she looked at Hiei.

She looked at him for a long time, and Hiei looked back. This was Kuwabara’s sister, he had heard her name mentioned, and idly Yusuke had named her and pointed her out. He'd not thought much about her, but now they were looking at each other, and he was forced to see her.

She did not look much like Kuwabara… and yet she does. Her hair is more brown than auburn, but there is a touch of softer red hues there. She is tall, taller than Kuwabara, and while female her shoulders are broad. They have a similar eye shape, but after that, the similarities die off. There’s someone else in her genetic makeup, someone else that kept her apart from her brother.

“So you’re Hiei?” Shizuru mused, and there was a sad little lilt there, like she knew something.

Hiei frowns as his own senses tell him that she does.

She looked away and then instructed, “Look after him.”

“Ask the Detective to do that,” Hiei snorted.

Shizuru laughed, “These words are for later. Not for the tournament, and not for what comes after. You'll remember these words years from now. You’ll get it…” She finished Kuwabara’s eyes, and pulled out what looked like a thin black pen. “Also… wait for fifteen minutes. You’ll get to enjoy a show.”

Hiei walked away from Shizuru and Kuwabara, and took his spot by the window and loitered around for fifteen minutes… just to see what would happen.

Shizuru left ten minutes in.

At the end of minute 14, Kuwabara wakes up, and sits up, yawning groggily. At minute 15, Yusuke, Kurama, Botan, and Genkai walk in the room. Yusuke sees Kuwabara’s face and explodes with laughter, immediately giving Kuwabara shit. The room gets loud, Kuwabara screams and screeches and has no idea what is going on. Botan and Yusuke are laughing and pointing like children, and Kuwabara gets up from his bed, and chases them around the room.

…It is all amusing to watch, and Hiei has to hide a smile.

He doesn’t really understand whats so embarrassing about wearing  makeup for Kuwabara, but humans wear it to look pretty instead of to make war, or send a message. So he assumes its another difference between humans and demons he does not understand.

When the room settles down, Kuwabara goes to clean his face. He looks at his eyes the longest. The green shade is the only nice part about the makeover his sister gave him. It looks nice, it suits him. It reveals the blue hidden in the dark ring of his eyes. Hiei thought it looked good on him, and judging by Kuwabara's hesitance, Kuwabara seemed to think so too.

Kuwabara wiped the makeup away, and Hiei eventually forgets this moment, until he sees Kuwabara in lipstick for the third time.

[agentrouka-blog]

Jonsas never mention the fact that Jon dreamed of being a conqueror like King Daeron, I wonder why…

(Do you really "wonder why" or are you content making vague implications you don't care to spell out because it would make them even easier to refute?)

Why don't we spend our days talking about this?

Because GRRM mentions it twice, and both times he already dismantles it?

The first time it's a drunk 14-year-old trying to justify why he's already superqualified to join the Night's Watch, hoping to become a glamorously exciting ranger.

"Daeren Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne," Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes." A conquest that lasted a summer," his uncle pointed out. "Your Boy King lost ten thousand men taking the place, and another fifty trying to hold it. Someone should have told him that war isn't a game." He took another sip of wine. "Also," he said, wiping his mouth, "Daeren Targaryen was only eighteen when he died. Or have you forgotten that part?" (AGOT, Jon I)

Young conquerors who get thousands killed and die young. Hello Robb. Hello..., well, let's not spoil anything else, I guess. His idealization is immediately reprimanded, for Jon the character and for the reader.

The second time, it's in direct contrast to the complex politics Jon-the-Lord-Commander is engaging in to balance out the interests of multiple dangerous parties so the maximum amount of human beings survive the winter and the Others, without killing each other - and secretly rescue his little sister on top of it.

When Jon had been a boy at Winterfell, his hero had been the Young Dragon, the boy king who had conquered Dorne at the age of fourteen. Despite his bastard birth, or perhaps because of it, Jon Snow had dreamed of leading men to glory just as King Daeron had, of growing up to be a conqueror. Now he was a man grown and the Wall was his, yet all he had were doubts. He could not even seem to conquer those. (ADWD, Jon VII)

The pivotal message here is that rulership is not that simple, not that glorious, not as banal as conquest. Jon is no longer a child hoping to compensate for his painful childhood with a power fantasy of being admired and adored for impressive feats of warfare. It's put into direct contrast with his actual challenges as a leader.

And wouldn't you know it, the moment Jon has a glamorous speech rallying men to march into war with him? That's the one moment GRRM chooses to undercut by immediately following it with his assassination. He will never ever depict war and battle as positive things, even with sympathetic characters. Even in defense, but especially related to conquest.

These things are not exactly subtle. GRRM is using Daeron and the way characters discuss him as a short-cut to criticising wars of conquest and those who glamorize them. Jon grows beyond that within the span of the books. His relationship with conquerors, especially in relation to the North, is bound to be conflicted.

So.. no, you're not seeing jonsas making a ton of posts about it. It's pretty clear-cut.

[janmisali]

Number Tournament: Total Ranking?

here at the end of the Number Tournament, I think it's a good idea to reflect on all sixty-four competitors, and see how well they did.

the main metric I'll be using to rank these is "total relative support", which is the number of votes each number got, divided by how many people participated in the polls they were in. I'll also be considering the pre-tournament number submission form to be one of these polls, with 2277 votes.

the two free-for-all side polls also count for this, but this significantly skewed the results for those numbers, so I'll also be showing what their total relative support values would be without the free-for-alls.

in addition, I'll be showing their original seed value, as well as the upper and lower bounds for their "true rank". (eg. fifteen lost to zero in round one, so it theoretically could be the second-best number, or it could be the bottom-ranked number)

zero: 59.8%; seed 4; true rank 1

i: 50.7%; seed 11; true rank 2-33

NaN: 48.2% (50.1%); seed 26; true rank 3-49

one: 47.4% (52.0%); seed 10; true rank 4-61

two: 46.9% (50.8%); seed 3; true rank 3-57

e: 46.0% (49.4%); seed 6; true rank 3-61

413: 44.4%; seed 13; true rank 3-63

golden ratio: 44.4% (48.3%); seed 21; true rank 2-57

epsilon: 44.2%; seed 37; true rank 4-63

5F3759DF: 44.1% (48.1%); seed 47; true rank 4-57

forty-two: 44.0%; seed 14; true rank 5-63

Belphegor's prime: 43.7% (45.3%); seed 60; true rank 3-61

order of the Monster: 43.5%; seed 49; true rank 3-61

eight: 43.2%; seed 8; true rank 4-61

negative one: 42.8% (46.1%); seed 33; true rank 2-49

pi: 42.5%; seed 19; true rank 4-61

square root of two: 42.1% (47.0%); seed 34; true rank 5-61

420: 41.8%; seed 35; true rank 4-63

sixty-four: 41.2% (44.6%); seed 20; true rank 2-61

three: 40.6%; seed 2; true rank 6-63

twelve: 39.3%; seed 15; true rank 5-63

six: 39.0% (44.8%); seed 9; true rank 4-63

666: 38.7%; seed 52; true rank 4-64

star: 38.7% (42.5%); seed 41; true rank 3-57

Chaitin's constant: 38.3%; seed 40; true rank 5-63

beth-one: 38.2%; seed 53; true rank 3-63

omega: 37.6%; seed 64; true rank 3-63

final vote count: 36.0%; seed 48; true rank 4-63

Avogadro constant: 35.7%; seed 27; true rank 4-63

thirteen: 32.8%; seed 12; true rank 4-64

twenty-seven: 32.7%; seed 22; true rank 3-63

256: 32.7%; seed 45; true rank 3-64

thirty-six: 32.3%; seed 36; true rank 2-63

sixty-nine: 32.3%; seed 5; true rank 4-64

seventy-two: 31.3%; seed 43; true rank 4-64

tau: 30.8%; seed 23; true rank 5-63

infinity (concept): 30.8%; seed 50; true rank 6-64

mute: 30.3%; seed 58; true rank 4-63

seven: 30.0%; seed 1; true rank 4-64

aleph-null: 25.6%; seed 39; true rank 4-64

four: 24.8%; seed 7; true rank 5-64

TREE(3): 24.0%; seed 42; true rank 6-64

fifty-seven: 23.9%; seed 57; true rank 5-64

eleven: 23.2%; seed 25; true rank 6-64

five: 23.2%; seed 17; true rank 5-64

twenty-three: 23.1%; seed 32; true rank 3-64

twenty-four: 22.7%; seed 24; true rank 4-64

fine-structure constant: 21.9%; seed 46; true rank 5-64

seventeen: 21.1%; seed 16; true rank 4-64

googolplex: 20.5%; seed 51; true rank 6-64

nine: 20.4%; seed 18; true rank 5-64

fourteen: 18.4%; seed 38; true rank 5-64

2277: 18.3%; seed 29; true rank 3-64

thirty-nine: 17.9%; seed 56; true rank 5-64

twenty-one: 17.1%; seed 31; true rank 6-64

thirty-seven: 16.4%; seed 30; true rank 5-64

144: 16.2%; seed 59; true rank 4-64

sixteen: 15.9%; seed 28; true rank 5-64

Rayo's number: 15.7%; seed 63; true rank 7-64

twenty-two: 15.1%; seed 44; true rank 3-64

nineteen: 13.6%; seed 55; true rank 5-64

ten: 13.5%; seed 62; true rank 4-64

forty-seven: 10.6%; seed 54; true rank 3-64

fifteen: 8.7%; seed 61; true rank 2-64