#also confused me that no one knew about clara bow until now or gave a shit until Taylor said something but i suppose she does use her

[cimeriansparrow]

One thing about me is that if there's so much hype around something and I haven't Also been extremely hyped leading up to that something then I'm not going to be partaking in it for the next 39 business years.

Sorry Miss Swift, 31 songs in one go is fucking bonkers and I can't tell if my car radio is messed up or if the first 5 legitimately sounded the same.

Loved the music video though. Love a cameo love an easter egg Loved that black dress loved the opening sequence.

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: Rules of Engagement Chapter 2

Summary: Henry and Em have been friends for almost ten years and involved in a casual affair for just as long. The rules were simple: no romantic attachment and their friends and family couldn’t know. Easy enough to do right? However, when new complications emerge, Henry and Em will need to navigate this relationship of theirs, if they can even call it that.  Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 04  | Chapter 5  | Chapter 06

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Emeline)

Wordcount: 4,5K

Warnings: some fluff and a tiny bit of angst

Author’s notes: I want to thank all the comments I got on the first chapter. I didn’t expect this series to get so much recognition. Thank you! Here’s chapter 02. I do hope you all enjoy it and once again I would love to read your feedback.

Chapter 02 - What are the odds?

As soon as Henry stepped out the car in front of the church, he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander, looking for Em. It was almost second nature to him by now, whenever he would meet their friends, his eyes instinctively looked for her.

This time they landed on Todd first, standing outside and holding his baby girl Sophie in his arms. Henry could already feel the smile tugging on his lips as he made his way over, adjusting his button-down and blazer in the process. Last time he had seen the girl, she had just been born, only a week before he had to travel and start shooting The Witcher, but Todd and Clara made sure to keep him updated with pictures of his future goddaughter.

“My God, mate! you’re huge!” Todd commented voice full of awe and Henry chuckled, too distracted by the baby in his friend’s arms.

There was a huge pink bow on top of her brown curly hair and her eyes were bright blue and staring at Henry as he made a couple of silly faces until he got a bubbly giggle.

“What are they doing to you?”

“You don’t want to know. Sorry, I’m late. My flight was delayed.”

“You’re not all that late. Em had wardrobe trouble and Clara is giving her a hand,” Todd said, chuckling as Henry offered his hands up to the toddler, and to his surprise, Sophie actually reached for him, asking to be taken and Henry smirked. “She’s 6 months and already under your charms,” Todd clicked his tongue, handing over the girl.

It was no secret that Henry loved children and children loved Henry. Not only that, but he was also actually good with them. Maybe it was all the nephews and nieces, maybe it was just his natural gift, but kids tended to be in his best behavior with him.

Someone’s got a booboo? Call uncle Henry to kiss it better. Crying fit over a stolen toy or a no? Uncle Henry will hold them until they feel better. Don’t want to sleep? Uncle Henry will tell stories and even do all the voices. Sugar high and need to tire them out? Uncle Henry is on the job with a good dose of Kal…

Henry truly didn’t mind being only a call away for his family and friends. Being the last-minute babysitter whenever he was in town and having a chance of spoiling them rotten. He loved being Uncle Henry but he just couldn’t wait for the day he would be the dad.

First, he needed to find a good partner but so far, his relationships had crashed and burned, some more epically than others. And Henry wasn’t getting any younger. He would hate to be one of those fathers that had their first kid in their fifties, but he was slowly approaching his forties and had yet to meet the woman he wanted to have that kind of commitment with.

Shaking himself out of those thoughts that would lead nowhere, Henry followed Todd to a sideway entrance of the church so they could go in without making much of a fuss. It seemed almost fate that just as they stepped inside, a small hidden door opened and both Clara and Em stepped out.

For a second, Henry just stared, because Em looked so beautiful in that form-fitting soft pink dress, her dark hair falling in elegant waves over her shoulders. He didn’t even notice the sigh he let out or the small snort that came from Todd.

Henry wasn’t in the habit of lying to himself, but he made an exception when it came to this because Em might be the only woman he ever really felt like he could have a long-term relationship with. They just clicked in every aspect.

She was funny and goofy, unafraid of giving him hell whenever he was getting a big head. She could be almost brutally honest at times, but Henry had become quite good at calling her out on it with just one look. Em never failed to make him laugh, and he knew that, aside from Clara, he was the only that got her to completely loosen up. And, of course, he couldn’t forget, that the sex was amazing.

Henry was still dreaming about their last encounter last month, the feel of her without any barriers, and how much trust she laid on him to even suggest such a thing. He loved her even more for it and if only she would stop being so stubborn and accept that she loved him too and that they were perfect together, Henry wouldn’t have this problem. Because he knew Em wanted kids too.

They had this conversation one drunken night about a year ago. She had just broken up with her latest boyfriend, for reasons he couldn’t remember, and came over with a bottle of bourbon ready to drown her sorrows.

It was a cool spring night and they lied in his garden watching the night sky and passing the bottle back and forth, complaining about life and love and everything in between. Kal lodged between them, snoring loudly and making them both fall in a fit of giggles every once in a while.

“Ok, confession time…” Em said, turning sideways to look at him. The way she squinted her eyes to see him made Henry laugh. “I miss the kingstache.” She traced the smooth skin of his upper lip and Henry grinned wide.

“You?” he asked in disbelief. “The one that mocked me the most? That called it a porn mustache?”

“Yes, alright?” she pouted at him knocking against Kal, alcohol impairing her coordination. The dog looked up startled and confused before slipping away from between them. “I miss it. It felt good, especially…”

“Especially what?” Henry asked, turning sideways too and now they were so close he could smell the whiskey in her breath; their noses almost bumping against one another.

“The feel of it whenever you were eating me out,” Em confessed, lip tucked between her teeth as they stared at each other. “And only you could rock a mustache like that, ok?”

“I love how honest you get when we put some alcohol in you,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips.

It was supposed to be just a soft peck but Em fisted his hoodie, holding him still while she explored his mouth in a sloppy kiss and Henry felt his body responding to it. The heat spreading, the stirring in his trousers but he pulled away and gave her a stern look.

“We shouldn’t. we’re drunk and nursing breakups…” he warned but she cut him off with another kiss. This one lasted longer, especially as she pressed her entire body against his, one hand coming to scratch his scalp just like Henry loved it and he moaned into the kiss.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” she mumbled. “We can fuck it out of our systems and move on… I don’t want the next guy to be a rebound.”

“Oh, but I can be? That’s lovely.” He arched an eyebrow, hurt and offended. She sat up and rolled her eyes.

“Like I wasn’t a rebound after most of your girlfriends, Hen? You know what? Forget it. I’m leaving.” Em got up in unsteady feet and Henry was by her side in a flash, helping to keep her upright. She could never hold her liquor all that well.

“You’re too drunk. Just stay here. I can get the guest room ready if you’re that pissed at me.”

“I’m not…” she sighed, resting again his chest, but looking away from him. “I really thought Alex was…”

“Really? I always knew he was a wanker.”

Henry felt the warm huff of her laugh against the exposed skin of his throat before she finally looked up at him, chin resting on his sternum, her big and warm brown eyes glassy, lids lowered, her cheeks flushed from alcohol. It was a beautiful sight and he loved how much shorter Em was; how she fitted in his embrace like she belonged there. Henry pushed the thought aside as he guided her inside and up the stairs.

“He was jealous of you, you know?” she flopped on the bed and let Henry take off her jeans, sweater, and bra. “I think he guessed that we have sex on occasion.”

Henry only hummed in reply, picking up one of his old shirts and helping her to put it on. It fit her almost like a dress, hanging almost at her knees, the neckline loose and slipping over her shoulder. He shouldn’t think it was this cute, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent closer, kissing her softly and Em sighed against his lips.

“I’m gonna grab some aspirin for you, please don’t hurl on my floor.”

She gave him a clumsy punch on the shoulder that Henry barely felt, and he chuckled all the way to the kitchen. He wished he could tell Em that he was glad Alex wasn’t the one and that he would like her to see Henry might be. They’ve been doing this for 8 years now and it was probably the longest relationship he had with anyone. If you could call periodically hooking up with a good friend a relationship.

He got back to the room and Em was already asleep, head buried on his pillow and Henry felt bad for waking her up but if she didn’t take anything right now, it would be worst in the morning. For both of them. He shook her lightly and she blinked blearily at him, but still accepting the pill he put in her hand and the sip of water he offered.

“Thanks, Hen. I love you,” she slurred, and Henry chuckled, setting the glass aside while he took off his clothes.

Em would always blurt that out when she was this drunk and it always warmed his heart, giving him hope until the bright light of the day came and he realized that no matter how many times she would say it, Em would still fight this pull between them.

“You’re welcome, love.”

He crawled in bed with her and Em immediately settled against him, tugging on his arm until Henry was spooning her, holding her tight. She was such a cuddler and he loved it. He loved to fall asleep with his nose buried in her head, inhaling the scent of sugar and spice that clung to her. He loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft snores that she never admitted she let out or the way she clung to his hand until she fell asleep.

It was sweet torture to have her like this, knowing that when morning came, Em would be out the door, both of them going their separate ways. But at least for those blissful hours, in the darkness of the night, Henry could pretend otherwise.  

For a while, there was only silence and Henry thought she had fallen asleep again. He was almost drifting off himself when she spoke again.

“You will be the perfect partner for some lucky lady out there,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly coherent considering how drunk she was. “And a great dad.”

“Thanks, Em,” Henry smiled and kissed her temple.

“I’m terrified of having kids,” Em confessed quietly, turning in his arms so they could look at each other in the darkness. “I mean, I didn’t have the greatest role model for a family.”

Henry pushed some hairs away from her face, looking at the big doe eyes staring at him with a glimmer of wetness. He knew her mom left when she was very young and her dad was… well, interesting.

“Do you want to?” he asked, thumb caressing her jaw. “Have kids, I mean?” she nodded, a flitting smile sneaking into her face.

“Yeah, two,” she said softly. “Because I hated being an only child. Good thing I had Clara. How about you?”

“I always thought at least three,” he replied, smiling too. “I want my house full, just like I had growing up.”

“At least?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, and Henry chuckled and shrugged. “I guess that sounds good too, maybe a little chaotic… I mean, how would that work with you and your wife working full time?”

“I would take some time off, of course…” Henry said, lying on his back, one arm around her, the other bent beneath his head. “I’m doing pretty well financially, and I could afford to spend some time off-screen or maybe take smaller roles, local productions…”

“You really thought this out, huh?” Em asked head tilted his way and Henry nodded. He lost count how many times he envisioned this scenario, the only thing that usually changed was the face he pictured for the woman in his life. “You would turn the guest room into a nursery?”

“At first, yeah, but I definitely would want a bigger place,” he said, drawing patterns on her arm. “A little farther away from the city, with a nice kitchen and a big master bedroom. A garden so Kal can run around and the kids could have a playground, maybe even a treehouse…”

“That sounds nice, I’d like that,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering close, her breath evening out. With one last smile, Henry kissed her brow and let himself drift off too.

That conversation had stayed with him for way longer than it should. Em didn’t remember any of it of course, but Henry did because it seeded something in his heart that he had to work hard to ignore whenever they were together.

Henry guessed it could be seen as a small blessing that their hookups weren’t happened all that often anymore, even if they were both single. He also couldn’t help but notice that when they did end up together, Em seemed to fight the pull that existed between them until she finally relented and fell in bed with him. It made him wonder what changed. Why she felt like they couldn’t have this anymore.

“Henry! You’re here!” Clara greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before she looked down at her daughter comfortably settled on his arms. “And you already charmed Sophie, I see.” She looked at Todd with a grin. “You owe me a tenner.”

Todd rolled his eyes, taking the girl from Henry so they could walk into the church with their daughter, while Henry and Em took their places at the altar, side by side and he gave her a sideways glance to have a better look at her.

“You look nice.”

“You too,” she smiled at him. Her soft, glossy lips looked so tempting that Henry had to discreetly shift his stance to adjust himself.

“What was wrong with your dress?” His gaze lingered on the generous neckline that gave a very nice view of her cleavage. “Looks really good. Especially your tits. They look bigger somehow.”

“Henry!” Em hissed sharply with a glare, but he could see she was fighting off a smile. “But you might actually be right because I busted a seam under my arm and Clara had to sew it back together.”

Before Henry could comment on anything else, the ceremony started and they returned to their best behavior. Todd and Clara brought Sophie forward, handing the girl to Henry and Em so she could be baptized and they were named her godparents.

It was hardly a surprise for them that the couple had invited them, especially because Henry had Todd as a fifth brother and he knew Em viewed Clara as a sister, but they were both honored by the invitation.

Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to head to Todd and Clara’s place for the celebration. Henry was about to ask Em for a ride since he had taken a taxi but froze when he saw her heading to a car with a guy he didn’t know.

“Hey Todd,” he caught his friend who was on his way to say goodbye to a few guests that wouldn’t be able to make to the party. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Jack,” Todd said, following Henry’s gaze, catching sight of Em chatting with the blonde man. “He’s a friend of Clara’s. He and Em met a couple of months ago.”

“They’re dating?” Henry asked with a frown and uncomfortable burn in his stomach, like acid reflux. He had to swallow hard against the urge to puke.

“I don’t know,” Todd shrugged. “But they seemed to have hit off pretty well.”

As if on cue, Em’s laugh rang loud and bright as Jack held the door open so she could slide inside, and Henry had to clench his jaw to stop himself from cursing. From the look on Todd’s face, his friend noticed.

“Need a ride?” he asked, pulling Henry’s attention back him. “My brother is heading off right now.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Henry tried to push the thoughts of Em and the Jack bloke aside, pay at least a little bit of attention to whatever Todd’s brother was droning on and on, but it seemed to be an impossible task. Fortunately, the younger man didn’t seem to need his interaction to make conversation, so Henry just hummed occasionally, looking out the window. He wondered why Em didn’t mention Jack at all last time they saw each other.

Sure, it was a quick visit, but they did talk a lot before they ended up in bed together. It would have been nice to know in advance that she was dating. Was she dating? Em didn’t strike him as the kind of woman that would hook up with someone else if she was seeing another but maybe that was why she was so reluctant to sleep with him last few times?

Before Henry could reach any conclusion, they arrived and he thanked Todd’s brother for the ride before letting his gaze wander through the small gathering of people, locating Em. She was unsurprisingly surveying the cake and pastries since her bakery provided every single treat offered at this party.

Henry didn’t taste anything yet, but he knew they were delicious. Em had a unique talent for baking and it was no wonder her store was becoming more and more popular. He knew part of it was her perfectionism. Even though her team worked with her for years now and knew exactly how she would plan tables and displays, she still needed to survey everything, making sure it was up to her standards.

He took a step in her direction, but before he could go any further, Clara called his name and caught his arm in a soft but firm grip, giving the guest she was talking to a small smile of apology before tugging him to the side.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” she smiled and for a relatively small woman, she could be very intimidating. It was something to do with her piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “Have you met Jack?”

“Not really,” he replied in surprise and confusion. Sometimes it felt like Clara could read his mind or something.

“Let me introduce you to him, then,” Clara said, pulling him along and Henry didn’t have in him to protest. He was after all curious about the man. “And please, be nice and make an effort to like him.”

“What does it matter if I like him or not?”

Clara turned to face Henry, her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, and weirdly enough, Henry felt like shrinking into himself at the weight of her stare. No wonder she was such an amazing prosecutor. That one stare was enough to make him want to confess all his crimes.

“So, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Henry asked. This was one of the most cryptic conversations he had ever had, and he had to do interviews about DCEU without giving any spoilers. Clara heaved a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re Em’s judge.”

“Sorry, I’m what?”

“Em’s judge. For a man’s character. If you don’t like a man she’s seeing or interested in, she’ll dump their arse like a hot potato. You never noticed?”

“No! Clara, that’s… insane! I have no saying in who Em dates.” Henry huffed an awkward breath as he watched his friend. She could not be serious, but from the way she was looking at him, he knew she met every word.

“We both know you don’t have to say anything.” Clara rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Alex lasted as long as he did considering your face turned sour everything time he was around. It was like you had shit stuck under your nose. But regardless if you believe it or not, could you make an effort with Jack? I really think he could be great for Em.”

“Fine!” Henry sighed just wanting to get out of this conversation. “But not right now. I haven’t eaten in six hours and I’m starting to get dizzy.”

“Thank you!” She flashed him a bright smile. “Head to the kitchen and grab something. Brunch will still be a while.” She came to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away before Henry could even process what was happening.

Henry stood there for a few moments like gaping fish, still trying to wrap his head around the entire conversation but giving up because when it came to Clara, she was lightyears ahead of them on some things. He might as well do what he was told and get a snack before he passed out.

To Henry’s surprise, when he got to the kitchen, he found Em at the sink, finishing up a sandwich that she handed him as soon as he stepped closer.

“What’s this?”

“Toasted wheat bread, no crust, turkey slices, and that tasteless cheese you actually like. Honey mustard, but no mayo,” she said, leaning against the counter and giving him a smile when Henry’s stomach rumbled. “I figured you didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat at the airport...”

“I didn’t. Thanks,” he grinned at her, taking a bite and groaning loudly, making Em chuckle.

“Settle down, Cavill. It’s not that good,” she joked, popping a piece of turkey on her mouth, but grimacing. “Urgh, this taste like cardboard.”

“You’re ok?” he frowned at Em.

“Yeah, just feeling a little queasy all morning,” she replied. “But I have to eat something or my blood sugar gonna plummet.”

Abandoning his sandwich for a second, Henry moved closer to her, resting the back of his hand against her forehead and then neck, frowning lightly.

“You are a little hot.”

“Thanks,” she flashed him a cheeky smile that made Henry chuckle.

“You know what I mean.” He cupped her cheek and it was a testament of how bad she much be feeling if Em was actually letting her guard down and allowing this small intimate moment in a place anyone could walk in on them. “You might be coming down with something.”

“Fuck! I hope not. This is one of my busiest months,” she let out a long exhale, and maybe it was just Henry’s wishful thinking, but he thought Em might have stepped closer, almost leaning into him and all he wanted was to take her in his arms and hold her.

“Am I interrupting?” Clara cleared his throat, making them both jump and turn to stare at her guiltily as she looked at them with a knowing smirk.

Henry wondered why she seemed to be everywhere. He knew it was this sort of gift every great hostess had but it could be very annoying when all he wanted was some privacy with Em.

“No,” Em recovered first, stepping away from Henry. “I’m just not feeling well, and Henry was checking up on me.”

Clara just hummed, coming closer and mimicking Henry’s actions, her brow drawing into a frown.

“I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re a little hot. Maybe it’s just that time of the month?” she asked, giving Henry a sideways glance.

“No, I had my period…” Em trailed off with a thoughtful frown as if she couldn’t exactly recall and Clara chuckled.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d joke you’re pregnant,” Clara teased with a smile. “I mean, the bloating and nausea and all that? Anyway, just lie down for a while. You’re probably just overworked.”

Once again, Clara was gone like a quick whirlwind, leaving Henry and Em to stare at each other in shock. He knew his eyes were wide and he was stunned into silence. Em just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“No!” she snapped once Henry recovered enough to try to say something. “Don’t even think it, Henry. It was once and I have an IUD. It can’t be.”

“You’re right,” he agreed quickly, but his heart was still thundering in his chest, his hands sweaty and he could barely breathe, terror and excitement mingled together in his chest, but he didn’t dare to voice it. Not when Em looked like she was about to throw up.

“Clara’s right. I’m just tired,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself, not Henry. “I just need a good night of sleep. That’s all. So, we’re not gonna talk about this, because it’s impossible. What are the odds of actually happening?”

Less than 1 percent, Henry found out later, once he was at home and couldn’t sleep, still thinking about the entire thing. He googled it to calm his nerves, surprised by the hint of disappointment he felt at learning it was next to impossible. It wasn’t enough to stop him from thinking and wondering, though.

Enough so that when he heard the sound of his doorbell, Henry nearly jumped out of his skin. It was a noise he practically had forgotten about since Kal would always announce newcomers way before they could ring it. But Kal was back in Budapest. It didn’t make sense to bring him over when Henry would only be staying a day.

Henry glanced at his clock, frowning at the late hour as he made his way downstairs and pulled his door open. Em pushed her way inside, her face tearstained and a mask of fury as she threw something his way. Henry caught by reflex, before staring at her in confusion.

“I hate you, Cavill! I fucking hate you!” she declared, sniffling and hugging herself.

“Em, what…?” he didn’t get to finish his question, because she gestured at the object he was still holding. Henry finally looked down, eyes widening when he realized it was a pregnancy test. One of those pharmacy types and it was positive.

“I did five of them. All positive,” she said, rubbing her face dry and glaring at him. “Damn you and your fucking Superman sperm!”

Henry stared at her wordless, still clinging to the white stick in his hand.

“What are we gonna do?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t know how.

chapter 01                                     x(tbc)x                                           chapter 03

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[oswildin]

An Old Face, An Old Foe, And A Crush ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader

Request: Y/N accidentally ends up travelling with Eleven, a Doctor that she travelled with years ago, threw shenanigans. They meet O during an adventure and she immediately pulls him aside like “Oi, dickhead. I know it’s you” and he’s all confused and playing innocent until he drops the act but she can’t reveal to The Doctor that it’s The Master without breaking the timeline so it’s just the two of them arguing whilst trying to avoid Eleven. ( @giantolivia )

Summary: (Y/N) travels with Eleven again, she hasn’t seen him in years... They bump into someone from (Y/N)‘s past and the Doctor’s future...

Warning: Bickering, Angst, All things good and pure.

Y/N had travelled with The Doctor for a long time. She didn’t know how she’d managed to survive for that long, or put up with his antics for that long either, but she had. She had to watch him go through the most pain she’d ever witnessed someone go through, losing friends, everyone around him dying, the loss of his planet... and the regaining of it.

It was like a rollercoaster with him. She liked to think she knew him extremely well, but with each Doctor it’s different. She had to relearn their expressions, their troubles... She knew they were the same person but each regeneration came with new worries and fears.

(Y/N) wasn’t there when his twelfth regeneration changed. He had decided it was best she left the TARDIS and him. After losing Clara, he became scared to lose her too. The one person who had been there through years of his travelling. So, she was a little confused when a woman appeared at her flat door, acting like nothing had happened and that she should know who she was. It took a little minute before (Y/N) recognised her. It was The Doctor.

Instead of staying on the TARDIS this time round, (Y/N) would go home after their adventures. She felt it was healthier for her. After having some time away she finally was able to work on herself. Her life didn’t revolve around the Doctor anymore.

They had just had a run in with the Master, who was pretending to be a special Agent for MI6. (Y/N) had run into the Master previously, with her travels with twelve, but they were different then... They were almost... Good? But not really... it was hard to explain. Whereas this regeneration was hellbent on killing the Doctor and her companions.

(Y/N) woke up early one morning to loud knocking on her door. She groaned as she wondered who it could be. She wasn’t impressed to have to be up at such an ungodly hour. She threw on a cardigan as she headed towards her door, sleepily. She yawned as she unlocked it, swinging it open to see who on Earth was disturbing her beauty sleep.

“(Y/N)!”

(Y/N)‘s eyes widened at the sight of an old face. She looked confused but also felt happiness seeing the person she started her travels with, the one person she could count on.

“Doctor...” She whispered, seeing the bow-tie wearing Doctor grinning madly at her. She instantly reached out, pulling him in for a hug. He was shocked at first but gave her a hug back.

“You only saw me a few hours ago!” He exclaimed as he laughed lightly, pulling away from the tight hug. “Did you grab what you needed to get?”

Realisation dawned on her. He got the wrong time. She rolled her eyes. Classic Doctor. She dragged him inside as she shut the door behind them.

“You idiot.” She told him. “It’s 2019.” She told him as realisation also dawned on him. He began to stare off into the distance.

“Right...” He muttered. “Did think you looked a little different.” He commented as she folded her arms.

“Be careful where you’re going with that comment.” She warned playfully as he smirked at her.

“Well... seeing as I have once again messed up, can’t really blame the TARDIS this time. You may as well assist me in my adventure.” He told her happily. “Like the good old days!” He cried. “For you at least, I only saw you a few hours ago.” (Y/N) smiled at him as he went to pull her with him.

“Wait! I’m not going out like this!” She gestured to her PJ’s and messy hair. He rolled his eyes.

“You have clothes on the TARDIS, remember?” She paused before nodding:

“Oh yeah.”

The Doctor filled her in on the readings he had picked up in London. Always London. It appeared as though alien technology had been used around the MI6 headquarters. (Y/N) had made herself look presentable as she strolled back into the console room. The ship finally landed as they stepped outside, guns aimed at them by guards as they quickly held their hands up in a surrender.

“It’s ok. They’re with me.”

(Y/N) recognised the voice instantly. She looked over to see none other than... O... Well, the Master. She narrowed her eyes at the man, before the Doctor smiled at him. The guards lowered their guns as they began to back off.

“Apologies for the rude welcome.” O told them both as the Doctor shook his hand, rather excitedly.

“Oh don’t worry! That was probably one of the nice welcomes to be honest.” The Doctor told him. “Think the worst welcome I’ve had was from her.” He gestured to (Y/N) as she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Right. Well.” O raised his brows, smiling slightly. “Thank you for coming, Doctor. I’m Agent O.” He turned to give (Y/N) a hand shake as she tightly smiled, reluctantly shaking his hand.

“I bet you are.” She muttered just loud enough for him to hear. He looked confused at her words before leading them to an office.

The Doctor was scanning the room with the sonic as (Y/N) approached O. He was sat at the desk as she leant forwards, resting her hands on the wood.

“I know who you are.”

She told him lowly, knowing the Doctor couldn’t know. It was his future, her past. Now she knew how River felt. O raised a brow, pretending to act confused.

“I’m sorry?” He questioned, leaning forwards in his chair.

“Little Agent O... befriending the Doctor... Trying to take down the Earth.” She whispered as he proceeded to not know what she was talking about. “Don’t play dumb, Master.” She hissed as his eyes widened slightly, his expression darkening for a moment.

“Right! I think I may have found where the readings are coming from!”

The Doctor interrupted them as he noted how close they were to each other. He smirked slightly as he proceeded with his explanation.

Whilst the Doctor was off doing something, The Master grabbed (Y/N) by the throat, shoving her against a wall. She gasped at the sudden impact as he glared down at her. O’s once kind eyes turning angry.

“How do you know who I am...” He asked, his eyes narrowing. She smiled slightly, despite the situation. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her anyway, he couldn’t, not with the Doctor about and him playing undercover.

“Let’s just say, we kick your butt in the future.” She taunted him as he growled.

“Where did I go wrong?” He asked threateningly. “You will tell me, or you will die.” She laughed lightly.

“That’s where you’re wrong... you can’t kill me. If you kill me, there’s a risk of blowing your cover...” She smirked. “And a risk of you altering the timelines in the future, meaning something may drastically change and screw up your plans even more.” He sneered before releasing her. She got back her breath as the Doctor poked his head round the corner.

“You guys coming or what?!” He exclaimed, noticing the pair out of breath. He smirked once again, wondering what on Earth they could’ve been up to. (Y/N) sent him a look that clearly read ‘fuck you’ as she followed the Doctor, leaving the Master to compose himself, falling back into O’s character.

“Okay! So! Plan!” The Doctor exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Looks like you have an infestation of cybermats in your network. Which means we need to find the hive, destroying it so we can’t stop them. They’re collecting information, and where better to get information than MI6.” He explained, as (Y/N) listened intently.

“But why didn’t they just sent in the big guns?” She asked. “I mean, Cybermen usually just go in headfirst, convert the humans yada yada, but what do they need information for?” The Master was actually impressed at the human asking the right questions. Not that he would ever admit that. She turned, sending a glare his way as the Doctor began to look at blueprints of the building.

“Good point.” He told her. “Perhaps their planning something bigger... Something more than just converting anything and everything that isn’t Cyber.” He finally found what he was looking for. “There! We need to get down there.” O looked at the map.

“You need clearance for that.” He told him as the Doctor stared at him.

“Good thing we’ve got it then.” He showed O his physic paper as (Y/N) smirked, the three of them heading underground.

“Why don’t you have clearance?” (Y/N) questioned O as she raised a brow. “Not trustworthy enough?” He bit his tongue, as the Doctor looked at the pair. He had noticed the tension between them.

“I am an Agent. Only the top dogs get clearance.” He simply stated, trying to control his anger as she nodded at his answer.

“Bet it’s annoying having the follow someone else’s orders all the time.” She pushes him further.

“Oh I don’t know. It’s better than being someone’s loyal dog.” He fired back as she glared at him. The Doctor continued leading the way, trying to ignore the obvious bickering between the two.

“I need you two to attach this into this device.” The Doctor told them as they stood in front of a panel. “It’ll corrupt the Cybernet for a few minutes, giving me enough time to hack into the hive and shut it down.” He handed (Y/N) the tiny chip.

“Do you always just carry around things incase you need them?” O asked, raising a brow as the Doctor shrugged.

“You’ll need this as well.” He went to hand O his sonic, but (Y/N) quickly snatched it from the Doctor, knowing she couldn’t trust it in his hands. “I’ll meet you back here in two minutes.”

(Y/N) shoved the Master back, kneeling down to the panel. He rolled his eyes as he knelt beside her, looking at the panel, trying to figure out how it worked.

“Okay, so, I’m assuming this piece fits in there.” (Y/N) spoke to herself as she saw a chip shaped hole in the panel. “But we need to figure out what wires to attach.”

“Let me have a look.” He told her as she moved out the way hesitantly. He inspected the wires as he held his hand out for the chip. She handed it him.

“This is ironic.” She said. “You’re saving the same planet you intend to destroy in a few years time.” He ignored her. “Which doesn’t work, by the way. I mean, it was so flawed. What idiot comes up with such a flawed plan-“ He snapped his head round to her, causing her to jump back slightly.

“And yet, you are still afraid of me.” He smirked, pleased with himself.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t be. You’re a psycho.” She told him as he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and you’re a puny human.” He started to pull out the wires as he held his hand out for the sonic. She laughed.

“No chance.” She shook her head, sonicing the wires to the chip as they both stepped back, seeing the chip attached.

“You know I could kill you at any moment.” He threatened.

“But we’ve already discussed this.” She folded her arms. “You can’t. You’d break the timeline.”

“Time can be rewritten.” He argued.

“And would you really risk that?” They didn’t realise how close their faces were are they argued.

“I hope you know how much I loathe you right now.” He spoke lowly as she raised a brow.

“Ditto.” She scowled at him. She didn’t know why, but she was enjoying their interaction... way too much. She couldn’t explain it. Little did she know, the Master was also enjoying it. He didn’t know why at all. She was infuriating, annoying, petty but it made him want to entertain it more.

“How we getting on gang?!”

The two pulled their glares away from each other as the Doctor reappeared.

“Great!” They both forced tight smiles as they responded at the same time. The Doctor raised a brow as he gave them a suspicious glance. (Y/N) threw him back his sonic as they moved onto the next room.

They all stood in front of the Cyber hive. The Doctor circling it to try and stop it from working. They only had a few minutes to do it before the chip would be destroyed by the cybernet.

“How do I know you aren’t behind all this?” (Y/N) asked quietly to the Master.

“And why would I do that?” He turned to her, hands behind his back.

“For attention.” She shrugged. “Future you admitted to a few things. One of them being you can’t live without the attention of the Doctor.” She teased as he flared his nostrils.

“It’s more than that.” He told her sincerely. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re just a human.”

“Stop taking cheap shots!” Her volume raised a little. “I’ve seen more than most, I’ve been with him for years, I’ve seen death, life, planets fall, destruction, invasions...” She paused, her anger evident in her face. The Master smirked slightly, knowing he’d pushed her to the edge. “I’ve probably seen everything you ever have. And I’m not a psychopathic killer!” The Doctor noticed how annoyed his companion looked as he quickly intervened.

“Okay gang!” He exclaimed, distracting her. “Let’s save the world!”

(Y/N) sighed, walking away from the Master as she followed the Doctor to the hive. He threw a large metal wire her way, as she caught it. He also threw one O’s way.

“Now, listen carefully. I need to you hold those two wires together for as long as you can. They’re going to heat up. And I mean... really heat up.” (Y/N) sent him a cautious glance. “But I need them to be touching as I shut this down.” The pair nodded. “Get ready.” (Y/N) felt slight panic as the two wires connected, electricity flowing through them. She instantly felt the metal burning up as she tried her best to keep her grip. She struggled as O noticed.

“Doctor-“ O said as he glanced up to see (Y/N) struggling.

“One second!” He exclaimed as he frantically typed in something on the screen of the hive. O looked over as he began to see the pain forming on her face. He didn’t even think before grabbing the wire from her hands, keeping them together himself. She fell back, her hands sore, but not burnt on the skin. She looked over to see the Master holding the two wires himself. She knew Timelords had a higher body temperature than humans. A second later the machine fell dead, the wires falling to the ground as the Doctor ran to check on (Y/N). She waved him off.

“Why did you do that?” She asked the Master as he looked over at her, offering his hand as she hesitantly took it, helping her off the floor.

“It’s in the job description.” He shrugged, as the Doctor sighed as everyone was ok.

The Doctor and (Y/N) were back at the TARDIS, standing outside as O joined them. The Doctor and O said their goodbyes as he went into his ship. (Y/N) sighed, looking over at the Master.

“So... About what happened down there-“ She began.

“Do not breathe a word of it to anyone.” He told her. “I did it because if the cybermen had succeeded with their plan, it would’ve messed up mine.” She gave him a small smile.

“Sure.” She smirked. “I think you just have a soft spot for me.” She teased. “Besides you were a lot nicer to me than the others in the future.” She commented as he rolled his eyes.

“You probably annoyed me so much I couldn’t be bothered to even deal with you.” He retorted as she pursed her lips.

“Well... this is goodbye for now. See you in a few years.” She told him as she went to turn away. He grabbed her wrist, turning her round as he placed a rough kiss to her lips. Her brows raised in shock as she pushed him away, confused. He smirked down at her.

“I look forward to it.”

(Y/N) entered the TARDIS seeing the Doctor at the console as she walked up to him. He quickly pushed the screen away from him as he smirked at her.

“What?” She questioned, confused.

“Seems like someone has a crush.” She shook her head, laughing to herself as realisation dawned on her. Just because she found him handsome and interesting, and somewhat charming in a weird evil twisted way didn’t mean-

Oh. God.

~

Taglist: @blamerogertaylor @a--1--1--3 @dannighost @koschei-taylor @impalasquiptyseven @hannahlilyyx @the-sweet-space-bi @yourlocalspacebisexual @drapetxmaniia @lostshadow12 @imthedoctorlove @wonders-of-the-multiverse @crescentandstar @koschei-studies

[library-phantom]

The alien of the opera

Is there anybody here reading fics with the 11th Doctor in 2020? Well, I always thought about the Doctor going to Paris and meeting The Phantom of the Opera (I’m not sure if there’s anything like this in Classic Who, I didn’t watch everything yet...), but realizing the Phantom isn’t exactly what he seems to be...so, since I’ve been rewatching some episodes from season 7B these last few days, why not write something with the 11th Doctor, Clara and The Phantom? This is very different from the other fics I wrote here and English isn’t my first language so, please, be nice and enjoy!

Summary: the Doctor and Clara go to Paris and weird events happen during the opera. After meeting Christine Daaé and seeing the similarities between those facts and a famous novel written by a friend of the Doctor, they realize there’s something very strange at the Palais Garnier.

Warning: mention of death. There’s no ships here.

(GIF aren’t mine)

“Clara, what do you think about a trip to Paris in the XIX century? We could see the Palais Garnier at its best!”

“It doesn’t seem bad to me. Come on, pull that lever!”, said Clara jumping next to the console while the Doctor had a great smile.

When they got out of the TARDIS they saw all the movement in Paris at night. Carriages, stores, coffee shops...Clara was looking at everything with attention, turning her head quickly to every side while the Doctor was walking by her side. After two corners, they saw their goal for that trip. The Palais Garnier had so many lights and there was a lot of people around there.

“What are our chances to see the opera tonight?”, Clara asked.

“More likely than you can imagine”, said the Doctor fixing his bow tie and getting the psychic paper from his jacket. 

They walked to the opera house, using their best serious expressions when the Doctor showed his psychic paper at the lobby. When it worked and they were allowed to get in the opera house, Clara couldn’t hide her happiness while looking around. A long staircase led to the theater and the hall had many chandeliers and gas lamps.

“So?”, the Doctor asked.

“It’s beautiful! I had no idea it would be like this!”, Clara said while smiling. 

They climbed the stairs towards the theater. The opera of that night was already beginning. The artists’ talent was amazing, just like the set production and the costumes. However, the main thing was the big chandelier, decorated with many crystals . 

The opera performance was happening normally when a deep voice echoed in a way that seemed to come from everywhere.

“Did I not instruct that box 5 was to be kept empty?”

Everybody was looking around searching for the origin of that voice, but nobody could find it. Clara turned to the Doctor confused, but he was also trying to understand what was happening. When the main actress began to sing again, her voice disappeared and she couldn’t sing anymore.

“Behold! She is singing to bring down the chandelier!”, the mysterious voice echoed again. That was when the chandelier began to shake in the ceiling, while the audience was screaming and trying to run to the exit.

As a way to try to calm the audience, one of the opera managers walked in the stage and said the opera would be resumed in some moments with miss Christine Daaé in the main role. To keep the people entertained while the cast was preparing with the changes, the ballet of that opera would be performed. Clara was still confused with everything that was happening and turned to ask the Doctor if he knew anything about all of that. She got surprised when she saw the big smile on his face and he was moving his hands with excitement.

“Doctor, what did you realize that I didn’t?”

“Oh, Clara, you didn’t notice the connections in all of this? A mysterious voice at the Palais Garnier, box 5, the chandelier, the change in the cast, the name Christine Daaé...none of this reminds you of anything?”

“No, I don’t think so...wait a minute! All of this looks like the story of The Phantom of the Opera!”, Clara said as she began to understand. The Doctor’s smile got even bigger. “But, all of that is a story, it’s just a book, it can’t be real...can it?”

“I think Gaston was serious when he said The Phantom was real. That’s weird, I didn’t believe it so much when he told me that when we were having tea…”

“Gaston? Who is...no, you mean Gaston Leroux? Did you meet Gaston Leroux?”

“Of course I did, a brilliant writer and a very nice man. I had a chance to meet him after saving him from…”

The Doctor was interrupted by the audience screaming when they saw a man dead in the stage, apparently he was hanged. Everybody was screaming to get out of the theater, but Clara and the Doctor tried to find a way to get to the stage.

He was scanning the dead man with his sonic screwdriver when one of the opera managers came to their side.

“Who are you? What is this thing?”

“Investigating. Yes, yes, we are investigators about weird events in the Arts. You can call me Doctor and this is my assistant, Clara. I have a feeling you know more about this than you show, mister…”

“I’m Andre. And none of this makes sense, all those letters and miss Daaé’s disappearance last night…”

“Ah! Where we can find miss Daaé? You know, she may be important for our investigation about these events, right, Clara?”

“Yes, yes, it would be very useful to talk to her”.

“Well, come with me. I’ll take you to her dressing room”.

Andre took them through a maze of hallways until they got to a double room. He knocked to announce themselves and a soft voice allowed them to come in.

“Miss Daaé, these investigators would like to talk to you about...well, everything that is happening here”, Andre explained while he, the Doctor and Clara walked in the dressing room. Christine was at her dressing table, but her face showed she was nervous.

“We would like to talk to her in private, if you don’t mind, Andre. Can we make you some questions later, if necessary?”, the Doctor asked as he looked around the room.

“Sure, you can look for me later. Excuse me”, Andre closed the door and left them alone. At the same moment, the Doctor began to scan the room with his sonic screwdriver.

“Are you really investigators?”, Christine asked with a trembling voice watching the Doctor as he walked around the room.

“In a certain way, yes. Now, what you can tell us about last night? Andre told us you were missing.”, the Doctor asked.

“It’s more complicated than it seems. You would hardly believe me…”

“We’ve seen many complicated things, believe us!”, Clara said as she sat in one of the armchairs.

“Complicated could be our nickname. Or middle name. Well, what you can tell us?”, the Doctor said while approaching Christine and keeping the sonic screwdriver in his jacket. 

“After my father died and I came to this theater, I’ve been having singing classes with someone. I used to think it was the Angel of Music, as my father always said. But, I saw him yesterday and he isn’t what I would call as “Angel”. He came through my mirror and took me to the underground of the opera house and showed me some compositions. He is known by everybody as The Phantom of the Opera, but he told me his name is Erik.”

“Mirror? Erik?”, Clara repeated as she looked at the Doctor. He gave her a little smile when he realized she was understanding the connections to the famous story. Then, he got the sonic screwdriver again and scanned the mirror. Christine was looking at him feeling confused.

“Could you see his appearance?”, Clara asked while trying to distract Christine.

“He was wearing a mask, but when I saw his real face...I don’t think I’m able to describe it correctly! His face was so deformed, his eyes seemed to be deep into his skull and his skin was so cold. He didn’t even look…”

“Human”, the Doctor completed still scanning the mirror before turning to Christine and Clara again. Then, he got away from the mirror, took Clara’s hand and walked towards the door. “Thank you for the attention, Christine. We will keep investigating and we will talk to you again. Thank you!”

“Wait, why we are leaving? We didn’t find out anything real yet!”, Clara said when they were in the hallway again.

“I think I know which alien we have here. Nothing dangerous or to be worried, we aren’t talking about daleks or cybermen. No, I think we are dealing with a krei! I must say he wasn’t so creative to create a human name using an anagram and…”

“Hold on, do you mean the Phantom of the Opera is an alien? Really?”, Clara said surprised.

“Yes, they are peaceful. They are mostly known for their melodious voice opposed to their appearance. They are very popular in intergalactic choirs because of their talent for the music. I was able to get his traces in the mirror. I don’t know how this one is here, but in general, there’s no reason to be worried. Except this one killed a man…”

“We will look for him, right?”

“Let’s get a shortcut with the TARDIS for the opera tomorrow night. I think we will get more clues about him”.

 The following night, the Doctor and Clara were at the opera house again. Christine had the main role for that opera and it was clear why Erik had such a preference for her. Her voice was truly beautiful and she didn’t make any mistakes. However, when she was having a duet, there was something weird about the actor that was singing with her. That was when the Doctor noted the fear in Christine’s face.

“That isn’t an actor. It’s Erik in disguise! I can see by his voice, it’s the same one that threatened everybody with the chandelier yesterday!”, the Doctor told Clara.

As soon as he said that, the opera stopped because of the chandelier that fell to the stage. As the audience was trying to get out, nobody noticed that Erik kidnapped Christine. But, the Doctor saw when he ran with her and tried to follow them through the crowd. 

They had to find a way to go to the underground. So, they ran to Christine’s dressing room to check the mirror again. Fortunately, that area of the opera house was empty and they quickly got in the room.

The Doctor came closer to the mirror and scanned again with his sonic screwdriver. After hearing some clicks and engines working, the mirror shifted to the side revealing a door to a dark hallway. He clapped in celebration and told Clara to follow him.

After some meters, the hallway led to a staircase that took them to a lake. They couldn’t cross it without a boat and they didn’t have time to get the TARDIS. That was when they heard someone crying. They followed the sound and found Christine sitting on the floor and trying to control her tears.

“Christine, everything is ok. We will take you back. Is he still here?”, Clara asked as she sat beside Christine.

“He left me here. He said he couldn’t keep his reign of music and he was grateful for me on helping him make his music fly, but the music of the night was over now. What does he mean with all of this?”, Christine said confused and out of breath. “The chandelier, everybody at the theater…”

“Everybody will be fine. I think our friend realized it isn’t safe to stay here and decided to run away”, said a calm voice from the shadows. They looked at the direction of the voice and saw a man with a persian appearance. “Don’t worry about him anymore, you won’t ever see him again”.

“Who are you? I never saw you here in the opera house”, Christine asked.

“I have been following Erik for some time, wherever he goes. That’s why I know he won’t come back here again. Forget everything that happened, miss Daaé. I say the same for you both. Forget everything about Erik, The Phantom and Angel”.

Before any of them could say anything else, the persian came back to the shadows. The Doctor walked to where the mysterious man was standing, but he didn’t find anything. It was like he vanished into thin air.

“Doctor, was this real?”, Clara asked uncertain.

“Yes, I think he was just as real as us”, the Doctor said still staring at the place where the persian was. Then, he turned to Clara and Christine. “Come on, we should come back to the theater. We need to take miss Daaé back to safety”.

Later, when they were in the TARDIS again, Clara was still thinking about everything that happened.

“So, everything that Gaston Leroux wrote was based in an alien? The story is real?”, she said while the Doctor was pulling levers to begin the trip.

“I think the story Leroux wrote is more real than he made his readers believe.”

“But, what happened to Erik? Why there isn’t any sign of him? I mean, did he really keep himself hidden forever? And who was that persian man?”

“Maybe he found a way to leave Earth. After all, he did tell Christine the music of the night was over. Maybe this meant he wouldn’t live with humans anymore. And Leroux actually had a persian man in his story...maybe we will never understand this mystery of The Phantom of the Opera in the end…”, the Doctor said while they entered in the time vortex. 

[milknette]

day o7 - disguise

she was sweet, too: reminds me of you.

tumblr month: @marichatmay links: ao3 | ff.net

In hindsight, Marinette could see where she went wrong.

She shook her head, muttering to herself as she slipped into the all-too-familiar spandex suit. It was a good copy, Marinette mused: especially since the original one was a magical costume that couldn’t really be replicated accurately with any type of clothes the real world had.

How did she land herself in this situation again?

After the close call with Clara Nightingale’s music video, Marinette had become so much more careful with getting into situations where she could expose her superhero identity. She even stopped wearing red (unfortunately), because she simply couldn’t risk it.

And for some time, it was all working out.

That is, until Chat Noir knocked on her balcony door; armed with a proposition that could affect not only her life, but his: as well as the entirety of Paris.

———

Earlier that week, Marinette, as Ladybug, had contacted Chat Noir to ask for his help.

It seemed that more than a few people were becoming suspicious of her true identity, and the hero wanted to shut down those rumors once and for all. (Though she didn’t tell Chat that, of course.)

The original plan was for him to find someone he trusted to dress up as Ladybug, and go around with him for patrol. His only goal was to be seen with her lookalike.

Then, while that was going on, Marinette would also be out in public: proving their Marinette-Ladybug theory wrong. (After all, she couldn’t be at two places at the same time, right?)

After explaining to Chat Noir that it was to distract the people while she went on a ‘secret mission’ (she felt bad for lying, but it was a necessary evil), her partner had ecstatically agreed, stating that he knew the perfect girl for the job.

Little did Ladybug know that she was talking about Marinette.

Oh, the irony.

———

It was the sudden and low “woah” that escaped Chat Noir’s mouth as soon as she stepped out of the folding screen was what snapped Marinette out of her thoughts.

“You know,” her partner commented. “You actually look a lot like her.”

The girl paused, nervously twiddling her thumbs as she faced him. “Haha, you’re kidding.” She managed an awkward laugh. “There’s no way I could even compare.”

Chat Noir shook his head. “No way, even Clara Nightingale saw it.” He pointed out. “Honestly, I was surprised with how similar you two looked during auditions.” As if catching himself make a mistake, the hero continued. “I mean, I saw you on television.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “You watched that, huh?” She laughed. “Well, even if I look somewhat like Ladybug; I could never be a real hero.” She stated, then sighed.

It wasn’t quite a lie, after all.

There were still times that Marinette felt like an impostor in her superhero suit: like she wasn’t the true hero that Paris needed; or that she was the worst Ladybug from all the heroes who held that miraculous before her. She loved being a hero, of course, but sometimes it was hard to carry all that weight— all the pressure and expectations that people had of her.

To her surprise, Chat Noir’s look towards her made a turn for the gentle. He shook his head. “No, you have the heart of a hero. That’s what Clara saw; not that you looked like her.” He paused, then wrinkled his nose. “Or she would’ve chosen Chloe; because she was wearing a wig and everything!”

Marinette giggled. Chat Noir took that as the incentive he needed to continue. “I chose you for this mission because I know how much of a hero you can be. Even Ladybug saw your potential; that’s why she gave you the Mouse Miraculous.”

Well, that wasn’t the true story; but it wasn’t like she could tell him the truth.

Besides, whatever the case: he was being sweet.

So instead, Marinette smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Chat.”

“No problem, Mari.” Chat Noir replied jokingly, then bowed.

“Well, if you’re all ready to go…” he started, before pausing after looking at her. “Wait. Your mask…?”

Oh, right.

Marinette scratched her head, immediately launching into a ramble. “Well… you see… the case is… the mask… it’s missing! … accidentally destroyed it … allergic reaction … my dog ate my mask? … I think …”

She must have listed all possible excuses in the book, with Chat Noir simply looking back at her in confusion. Once she finished, she took in a deep breath. “So, that’s why I can’t wear it.”

Chat Noir only stared in silence.

Was she caught? Did he find out the truth?

“Ladybug…”

Well, she was screwed.

“... didn’t say anything about having to wear the mask, so it’s probably fine!” Chat Noir beamed, blissfully unaware of the truth. “As long as you help me out!”

Marinette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was safe! (But then again: how naive could Chat Noir be? The person he claimed he loved was right in front of him— and he couldn’t recognize her because of one costume change? How thickheaded would someone have to be for that to be possible?)

“Okay, then.” He continued, offering his arm to her. “Shall we go?” He winked. “Milady?”

Now that was familiar.

Marinette smiled.

“After you, kitty.”

[floralguccistyles]

four: empty child

I had mixed feelings about it being February first.

Of course I was excited, because I got paid on the first and fifteenth of each month so I was ready to have money again. My refrigerator was getting horrifyingly low and I had run out of tampons. I also liked the first of each month because it meant no matter how shitty January was (and it had been decently shitty), February was a new month.

It was also Harry Styles’ birthday.

Surprisingly, I had already known this before his stardom. Even though he and his group of my tormentors had hardly been on my radar after secondary school had ended, I remembered them always making a big to-do of each others’ birthdays. Oliver and Emma’s birthdays were late August, right around when the school year would start. Emma’s boyfriend had a birthday in March. Nathan’s birthday was November thirteenth.

And Harry Styles’ was February first.

Contrary to popular belief, my world did not revolve around Harry Styles. I simply woke up on the morning of the first, checked my bank account and did a little happy dance when I realized I would be able to afford groceries, and then scrolled on Twitter. I didn’t even correlate the day to his birthday until I saw the hashtag trending. 

I hadn’t given Harry much thought since two weeks ago, when the bouquet of flowers had arrived on my doorstep. I didn’t want to know how he got my address (probably Bailey) and I didn’t want to think about the fact that he was the first guy to have ever gotten me flowers. I didn’t want Harry to be the first boy to have given me flowers. My first experience felt tainted now. I always dreamed that I would press the first flower someone gave to me in the thickest book I could find. With the bouquet from Harry, I didn’t bother. It made me sad that my plan had been spoiled. They had gone in the trash after a week, when they had started to wilt; even though I couldn’t bring myself to press a flower form Harry’s bouquet, it didn’t mean I was going to throw away perfectly good flowers until they were dying. 

Upon realizing it was his birthday, I stopped doing my happy dance and frowned down at my Twitter feed before shutting out of the app. It was highly unlikely I’d be interacting with Harry any time soon (if ever) so I didn’t feel that I had to see his face plastered on all my social media accounts. 

I dressed in some warmer clothes for my biweekly trek to the supermarket. Zach was out of town for the week with some uni friends, so Jeremiah was letting me borrow his car to run my errands. I appreciated the fact that I didn’t have to Uber to the market. There was a Spiceways about eight minutes from my flat, so I drove through the streets of Merton until I pulled up to the store, hopping out of Jeremiah’s car with a little bit of difficulty because it was so high up. 

Unlike some, I didn’t mind grocery shopping. Maybe it was because when I was younger and wanted to get junk food all the time, my mum wouldn’t let me. With the freedom to choose whatever I damn well pleased, grocery shopping wasn’t the horror that most people made it out to be.

I was debating between Jaffa Cakes and Aero bars when my phone rang.

“Hello?” I asked without really looking at the caller ID.

“Hey Petra,” Bailey’s happy voice said from the other side of the line.

Bailey had been diligent about checking in on me since the Peter incident. I appreciated her worry. She’d been texting me a little and asking how my days had been and stuff about the podcast that she easily could have asked Veronica. I liked that she was keeping an eye on me. 

“Hey,” I responded. “Quick question. Jaffa Cakes or Aero bars?”

“Aero all the way.”

“Got it.” I threw the box of Aero bars in my cart. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to invite you to a party tonight. Veronica and I are going and she suggested that we invite you. Jeremiah, too.” I heard rustling on the other side of the line and wondered what she was making.

Bailey made things for Etsy in her free time, when she wasn’t busy being a badass biochemist. I had actually gotten a knitted scarf from her a couple years ago and still had it. She was known for making little things like hair accessories or blankets, but sometimes she dabbled in clothes. Which was why she and Veronica’s flat was covered in fabrics. It was like walking into a craft store. 

“A party? For what?” Decided to screw my health, I threw in the box of jaffa cakes in the cart as well. I wouldn’t eat them all in one sitting, I reasoned with myself. One a day couldn’t be too terrible for my health.

“Some birthday party Jeff invited me to. It’s in Hampstead, so they’ll have the good alcohol. Veronica’s never met Jeff so she wanted us to go.”

Jeff Azoff had helped Harry with his first record. Bailey was friends with Jeff Azoff. Harry’s birthday, coincidentally, happened to be today. “Is it Harry Styles’ birthday party?”

“I didn’t actually ask Jeff, but if it’s his birthday today, then probably.”

I sighed. “Probably not a good idea for Harry Styles and I to be in the same vicinity. Last time I nearly bit his head off. Rightfully so, but…” I trailed off, shaking my head at the memory. And with the memory also came visions of my pretty pink tulips and white baby’s breath. “Thanks for the invite, though.”

“I know you and Harry have got a rocky relationship, but I imagine this party’s going to be huge. Chances are you won’t even see him there. I just want you to be able to get out and have some fun. If you want to leave, I’ll be the first one to pay for an Uber for you.”

I debated it for a moment. It would be nice to get out of the house. I had been holed up between my flat and Outset, working on AC and simultaneously feeling like a fool about my awful date with Peter. I was usually very observant of someone’s character and it had thrown me off that I had gotten Peter so wrong.  And Bailey was right. If the party was in Hampstead, Bailey was correct in assuming there would be good alcohol. No one in Hampstead would dare buy the cheap stuff. It would also be nice to hang out with Jeremiah and Veronica outside of AC.

“I don’t know, Bails. Can I get a couple hours to think about it?”

“Sure, no problem. It starts at seven. I’ll text you later and if you need a ride, Veronica and I can come grab you.”

I appreciated that she wasn’t pushing me to go, like my parents would have been. They would have demanded I show up and try to get to know the “new Harry.” We hung up the call after I promised to text her once I made a decision, and I stared at my shopping cart for a little while longer before I decided that he wasn’t going to consume my thoughts. I had once let him do that, when I was younger and more insecure. It wasn’t going to happen again.

I was usually done shopping in about thirty minutes because I didn’t dawdle around as I filled my basket with shitty food. Something this time, however, had me standing in the middle of the Mexican food isle, my brain still focused on Peter’s words. Though it had been racist of him to say it the way he did, I think it also bothered me because of how wrong he was. I didn’t know what foods from my culture were good because my parents had tried to conform to the English foods. 

My grandmother on my father’s side had come to visit us only once when she had gotten a bonus from her job in Santa Clara. She had scoured the isles of every market in town, trying to find acceptable ingredients for the meal she promised my father. That night, I had arroz con pollo, empanadas, flan, and a cake with dulce de leche poured on top. It had been the best meal of my entire life. 

No one in my family had made anything like that since.

I was holding a box of Spanish rice in my hand, trying to decide if I could make myself arroz con pollo like my grandmother did, when a little girl accidentally bumped into me. She looked to be about five years old, with a cute little gap tooth that I spotted when she smiled hesitantly at me. 

“Lo siento,” she said softly, hugging onto her mother’s leg. Her mother shot me an apologetic glance.

“It’s okay,” I managed, smiling at the little girl. “I like your bow.” I pointed to the glittery silver bow in her hair. It took up half of her head.

She glanced at her mother, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Her mother stammered over a couple of words as she responded to me. “We...speak...no English,” she said, her voice heavily accented. 

I felt the shame flow through me. Shame that I hadn’t ever forced my parents to teach me Spanish. Shame that I couldn’t communicate with this little girl and her mother. Shame that I had gotten so lost in England that I hadn’t picked up Spanish myself.

“No se mucho español,” I said as a way of explaining, hoping the apologetic expression on my face was enough to convey to her that I was truly sorry I couldn’t compliment her little girl’s bow.

The mother just smiled at me and nodded politely before she and the little girl started off in the opposite direction of the isle. The little girl turned around and gave me a big wave, her little gap-toothed grin flashing before she faced in front of her once more. Their lives, just like that, unaffected by someone they ran into that couldn’t speak Spanish.

Meanwhile, I was frozen.

I felt like crying, as stupid as it sounded. But it wasn’t the first time someone had asked me something in Spanish and I hadn’t been able to respond. And even though I knew I shouldn’t, I always felt like a bad person. Like I should be more in-tune with my heritage. Like I wasn’t allowed to call myself Cuban because really, I hadn’t even ever been to Cuba. 

I put the box of rice back on the shelf, and stupidly, it felt like I was putting half of my soul back.

Maybe it would be a good idea to go to Harry’s party. Bailey was probably right about a ton of people being there. He was internationally known. There would have to be at least two hundred people at one of his parties, probably more. If I stayed with Jeremiah and Veronica, he wouldn’t even notice me. And after the emotional turmoil of the supermarket, I was ready for a drink or two. Or three. And even if he did notice me, that didn’t mean I couldn’t ignore him. Just because it was his birthday didn’t mean I had to be nice to him.

He could tell you that you need to get your head out of your ass and be a real person instead of living in fantasy books.

But hopefully, I reasoned, I would be too drunk to care if he did do that.

Which is the only reason why I texted Bailey an hour later, when my groceries were in my fridge and I was in the comfort of my own home.

I’ll be there tonight. But can I bring Melody?

~  

“Okay, but can I throat punch him?”

“You know, I’m gonna assume no.”

“Bummer.”

Melody and I were standing outside of the house in Hampstead. I didn’t know who it belonged to. When I had asked Bailey in the car she had shrugged her shoulders. At least that meant it wasn’t Jeff’s, since I would assume Bailey would know if it was his house.

Bailey, Jeremiah, and Veronica had already made their way inside. Melody and I, however, were still outside staring at the front of the house. It was obnoxiously grandiose. I couldn’t imagine having that much space and having to actually decorate it. We had stumbled out of the car and I found myself unable to go any further. 

“We can leave whenever you want,” Melody reminded me. It was the fourth time she had mentioned this fact. 

“I’m twenty-four. What does it say that I’m still terrified of someone I went to secondary school with?”

“That you’re a normal human being who doesn’t like to be made fun of and that he’s a dick?” Melody offered helpfully. I snorted.

“Reckon we should go in,” I said after a couple of moments. She nodded, patting my shoulder affectionately before we both trekked up the front porch. The door was open because the estate was surrounded by what I assumed were military-grade security cameras and a huge opaque fence. The only people who were getting inside the fence either had the gate code or were rock climbers.

As soon as we stepped inside, my body rattled with the bass of the song playing. I didn’t recognize it, but I probably didn’t listen to the same music Harry Styles did, so I wasn’t surprised. Melody had the extraordinary ability of finding alcohol wherever it was hidden, so it was only about ten seconds before she tugged me in the direction of the kitchen, where there was a wide array of drinks lining the kitchen counter. A kitchen counter, I might add, that was the size of a swimming pool. Melody grabbed a beer and handed it to me. I didn’t hesitate to take a swig.

I didn’t spot my other companions, which was good and bad news. Bad news because I wanted to spend time with them, good news because if finding them was hard, then certainly finding the birthday boy was going to be impossible. “I want to take a look around this house,” Melody mentioned to me after she had grabbed herself a drink. 

Fine with getting away from the crowd, I let her pull me into the left hallway. There were only two doors, and one of them was open. It was a bathroom, but it wasn’t a normal bathroom. It was probably the size of my bedroom and front room combined. There was a giant clawfoot tub and shower across from a marble countertop with black sink basins. Melody’s jaw dropped open as we stepped inside. 

“Fuck this is nice,” she commented, twirling around to take in the bathroom in its entirety. “Can you imagine owning a tub like that? I’d never leave.”

I agreed. I was a sucker for a good clawfoot tub. This one looked like it could easily fit four people. “I could live in that tub.”

“Wonder what this room is,” she said, casually walking out of the bathroom and opening up the other door. I was about to scold her for being rude, but most of the party guests were outside in the yard and barely took notice of us. 

This looked like a guest room of some kind. The walls were painted a dark navy blue and the room was accented with dark walnut and white colored woods, making the contrast sharp. The bed was king sized, decorated with other little navy pillowcases and navy sheets. There was a black and white blanket at the end of the bed that looked like it would be scratchy. I figured it was just there for decoration. There weren’t many pictures on the walls, but there was one of a giant black and white elephant next to a telly that was plastered to the wall.

“Holy shit. I could just stay in here and no one would know.” Then, in an action that absolutely horrified me, she jumped onto the bed, wiggling around in the sheets. “Oh Christ, you’ve got to get a load of this bed, Petra.”

“No,” I hissed out, crossing my arms over my chest. “Melody, this isn’t our house.”

“I guarantee whoever lives here doesn’t give a right fuck.”

“You aren’t wrong, I suppose.”

The new voice had me jumping in my skin. Melody didn’t even both to sit up, just waving away whoever the voice was, but I turned to see whose bedroom we were snooping in. The face that greeted me wasn’t one I expected to see. Obviously, she didn’t expect to see me either, since her amused expression dropped from her face and she glanced at me with wide eyes.

“Petra? Petra Gallego?” Gemma Styles asked with a slowly-forming smile on her face. “Holy shit.” And then her arms were around me, pulling me into a friendly hug. 

Unlike Harry, I had never had a problem with Gemma. Knowing that she was one of the kindest people I’d ever met, I knew it wasn’t likely she knew how her brother treated me. She always said hi to me when she saw me around Holmes Chapel and even offered to curl my hair for prom for year ten. I didn’t end up going until year eleven because of Harry and his friends, but I appreciated the offer. Since she was a little older than me, we never really kept in touch, but I kept up with her sometimes. 

“Oh good,” Melody mentioned from the bed. “You know the person who sleeps in this room. Meaning I can sleep here.”

Gemma pulled away from me. “Isn’t it magnificent? I’m glad he splurged on that mattress. Means I don’t sleep like shit when I come visit.”

“Wait, what? Is this… is this Harry’s house?” I asked. Gemma had already floated over to her bed and flopped down next to Melody like the two of them were best friends. 

“You didn’t know that? But you’re here.”

“I knew it was his party, I didn’t know it was his house.” And now I felt like an idiot. I was standing inside Harry Styles’ home. “Fuck, I’ve got to go.”

“Why?” Gemma asked, sitting up. “I’m not mad you’re in here.”

“No, I mean I have to leave the house.” I didn’t want to be in Harry’s house. I didn’t know why it made a difference whose house it was, but I knew it did. My skin was crawling. I had knowingly walked into the lion’s den. “Melody, we’ve got to leave.”

“Alright, but you’re going to have to peel me up.”

Gemma stood up easily enough and frowned at me. “Is Harry being a dick to you again? I’ll punch him in the nose, I swear.” At the expression on my face, her frown deepened. “He’s changed, Petra. I promise. If I thought for a second Harry was still acting like a shitty teenage boy, I’d drive you home myself. I’d just hate for you to feel like you have to leave.”

I appreciated her loyalty to her brother, I really did. But I didn’t want to be in here and I didn’t want to be around Gemma anymore, not when she would so blindly advocate for him. I was happy she’d punched him in the nose when she found out how he treated me when we were kids, but that didn’t mean she was going to support me telling her brother to go fuck himself. She loved him too much. I saw the way they were when we were younger, like they were two sides of the same coin. 

“She’s right, you know.”

“Oh Jesus fuck, of course you’re here,” Melody mentioned, still lying on the bed in Harry Styles’ guest room. Unlike Gemma, this voice wasn’t a surprise.

Harry gave me a hesitant smile. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but you should stay and enjoy the party. I’ll make myself scarce.”

“You shouldn’t have to in your own house,” I said regrettably, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t add a “fucker” to my sentiments. “If I had known it was your place, I wouldn’t have come.”

He looked defeated, but also like he knew he deserved my harsh words. I felt a spike of pleasure at his sad expression. I knew it was vindictive and mean, but I didn’t care.

“Yeah, cause you’re a raging twat.”

I snickered at Melody’s deadpan tone and the surprised look on Harry’s face when he realized the other person in the room wasn’t someone he knew. Melody pulled herself up from the bed and lazily stood, giving Harry a once over and looking entirely unimpressed. 

“You must be Melody.”

“Damn straight I’m Melody,” she huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “And you’re an arsehole.”

Gemma raised a brow but didn’t say much else. 

“I know,” Harry replied, and I was surprised by his admittance. Then, without thinking about it, he stepped aside and gestured out into the hall. “You want a tour of the rest of the house? I’ve got a Super Caeser in my room.”

Melody’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit. Those are the beds that fit four people right?” At Harry’s nod, she grinned. “Lead the way, twat.”

It was my mouth’s turn to drop open. “Melody,” I hissed underneath my breath. Where was the solidarity? Where was the earlier promise that she’d leave with me if I decided I wanted to go home? 

“I know, I know,” she whispered to me as Harry left the room and started down the hallway. “But I’ve never seen a Super Caeser mattress before and I really want to.” She cast a glance at Gemma, who was still standing in the room. “You like her right? Stay with her. I’ll be right back.” And then she was out the door, leaving me glaring at her.

“I’ve caught Alien Crossing a couple of times,” Gemma said as a way to make conversation. I noticed that we were moving out of the guest room. Now that I knew Gemma was the one using it, I felt worse for snooping. “It’s fucking brilliant, Petra. Good for you making something so unique and fun.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t used to members of the Styles family praising me for what I did.

We were walking aimlessly in the same direction Harry and Melody had left in. I slowed my steps, but I felt rude if I didn’t follow Gemma and let our conversation randomly end. “The episode with Harry seemed to go well. When he called me and told me he was going to be on, I nearly had an aneurysm. I was sure you wouldn’t want him within five feet of you.”

“I didn’t. I asked him to be on because the guest we had lined up had a family emergency.”

Gemma suddenly stopped in her tracks. We were in the hallway to the right side of the front door now, where I could see three more doors that probably contained bathrooms and bedrooms bigger than my entire flat. “I never tried to get in touch to apologize, Petra.”

“Apologize?” I blinked in surprise. “Apologize for what?”

“For Harry being a prick,” she said softly, shrugging her shoulders and crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I know he’s not my responsibility, but… I just really wish he hadn’t been so nasty to you. It was really out of character for him. I’d like to say with confidence that he was just doing it to go along with his friends, but I don’t know. I’ve felt guilty about it ever since he told me.”

“Gemma, you’re right. He’s not your responsibility. He knew what he was doing and he chose to do it anyway. I’m not mad at you.”

“But you’re mad at him. And it sucks because he totally deserves it.”

He did. He deserved my anger, my wrath, my disdain. He deserved for me to tell him to stay the fuck out of my life and never contact me again. I should have told him that. But there was something about seeing Gemma’s defeated expression that had me keeping my comments to myself. 

So instead, I shrugged. “It is what it is, Gemma.”

And that, unfortunately, was the truth. It was too late for her apologies, and she wasn’t the one that was supposed to be giving them. Melody suddenly appeared as Gemma and I stood in the hallway, looking nothing short of enchanted. She all but floated to my side, a wistful expression on her face.

“I want one,” she said after a few moments. I snorted. Harry emerged from the room looking like he wanted to laugh and frown at the same time. It was a weird dichotomy. “But the fog of a Super Caesar mattress has cleared from my head, so I will happily leave with you if you’d like to leave.”

Though I had no patience for Harry, I did have patience for Gemma. And one look at her guilty face, though she had nothing to be guilty for, had me hesitating. “I’ll...stay for a bit,” I said quietly. Melody looked surprised, but nodded her head. Harry looked like someone had just told him the best news ever. It looked entirely too happy and fake to be an expression on the face of Harry Styles, but I wasn’t focused much on him. I was focused on his sister, who gave me a hopeful smile before she glared at her brother.

“Great! Melody and I will go get you another beer. Harry can give you a tour of the house.”

I didn’t have time to open my mouth and argue before Gemma was grabbing Melody’s arm in a vice like grip and pulling her in the direction of the kitchen. That left Harry and I alone, standing in his hallway. I crossed my arms over my chest. He put his hands in his pockets. 

It was all very, very awkward.

“I’m not gonna say happy birthday,” I suddenly burst out. I think I surprised him because he jumped a little.

“That’s okay,” he agreed softly. Another few moments of awkward silence. “Well, do you want the tour? It’s okay if you don’t.”

I didn’t really care much about Harry Styles’ house, but I had a feeling if I went to go find Gemma and Melody, Gemma would just find a way to bring me back to right where I was standing. “Whatever. Just start walking.”

He did as I said, turning on his heels and opening up the first door. It was another guest room, but it didn’t look like anyone stayed in it much. There was a desk and a computer in there as well, so I figured he used it for an office. “This is one of the guest rooms,” he said hesitantly, like he wasn‘t entirely sure I wouldn’t just turn around and leave him in the middle of speaking. “Gemma doesn’t like staying in here because she thinks the government is watching her from the webcam of the computer.”

I raised a brow. “Doesn’t she have an iPhone?”

He grinned. “Yep.”

I wanted to ask him to stop smiling because when he smiled I wanted to punch him, but I figured that would be weird, even for me. So instead, I hummed out a response before I turned and walked towards the door directly across from the office. It was another bathroom, this one without a claw-foot tub. I automatically liked it less because of that fact. But it was decorated nicely, in soft nudes and tans. Overall, it was very impersonal.

“Your place is a two story,” I mentioned offhandedly just as he was about to open the door to his room.

He furrowed his brows. “Yeah. Why?”

“Why’re you on the first floor then?”

He smiled. “I specifically renovated it a couple years ago so it’s a big open space up there. I’ve got a telly and some instruments. I record ideas for songs there.”

I didn’t know if he expected me to be impressed, but I just nodded my head, going along with what he was saying. He pushed open the door to his room walked in, gesturing to the giant mattress that even I could admit was impressive. There were guitars lining the walls. It would have looked tacky if I had tried to do the same thing in my flat, but it fit this room somehow. There was a giant flat screen against the wall closest to the door, on a stand that was filled to the brim with DVD cases. I didn’t think anyone even watched DVDs anymore. 

Harry walked around the room, pointing out the master bath and the record player he had in the furthest corner, along with stacks and rows of vinyls. His voice trailed off when he turned and realized I hadn’t followed him into the room. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

I wasn’t. Because he looked so comfortable in his room, his safe space that he obviously put love and time into. “This room,” I said, pausing to try and find the right words, “you look comfortable in it.”

“Yeah. It’s my safe space.”

I nodded. “That’s what Alien Crossing is to me.”

“I know.”

“No.” I shook my head, closing my eyes to try and fight back the headache growing. “No, you don’t know. Because I’ve never told you. I never told you because when I was fifteen, you told me I had to get my head out of my ass and live in the real world, instead of my little fantasy world.” He at least had the decency to look ashamed. “But you know what, I don’t even care about that. You sent me flowers because Bailey told you what Peter did. But Harry… what your friends said to me was much, much worse. And you didn’t do shit to stop it.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, Petra.”

“I don’t want a fucking apology!” I screamed, suddenly infuriated. I didn’t want to hear him say that he was sorry. It was too late. “I don’t care if that makes me stubborn or selfish or stuck in the past. I hated myself, hated the things I loved, because you and your friends made me feel like shit. Made me feel like less than a person. And then I put myself on the line, asking you to be on my podcast, and it was just a huge mistake because I’m tired of feeling less than. You make me feel less than, Harry. I can’t accept your apology, Harry. Not right now. Not when I still have to see a fucking therapist because Nathan told me to go back to where I came from even though I was born in fucking Cheshire like the rest of you.”

It was silent. If I breathed in the wrong way, he would hear it. But I was just so tired. I sighed and slumped against his door, leaning my body on it as though it would support me for the rest of my life. He stood on the other side of the room, feeling both like he was an ocean away and much, much too close.

“I won’t try and apologize again, because I know that’s not what you want to hear. I know I was awful, Petra. I feel like shit about it. And I’m not saying that to make you feel bad for me or make it all about myself, but because I want you to know that the asshole from Holmes Chapel doesn’t exist anymore. I know it’s going to be hard to get him out of your head, but he’s gone.”

“It doesn’t change what he did,” I replied, pinching the bridge of my nose. 

The two of us stood there for who knew how long. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. He was letting me process and I appreciated that. Deep, deep in my mind, I knew my anger at him was overwhelming. He’d apologized three times now, each one sounding more and more sincere than the last. It didn’t mean I was ready to forgive him by any means, but I could at least acknowledge that he was trying.

“Did Gemma really punch you in the nose when she found out?” I asked after a few moments.

He nodded. “Had to cover it up with a shit ton of makeup because that was around the time we were touring with Big Time Rush.”

I let out a snort, shaking my head at the image of Harry sitting in a makeup chair while they smeared concealer over his nose. Then, I sighed. “Christ, Harry. I’m twenty-four and I don’t have the time or energy to be holding onto this feeling. But you’ve got to keep in mind that it’s going to take a while. I might never forgive you fully.”

“I completely understand.”

Pushing myself up from the door because I figured that was the end of the conversation, I steadied myself and went to walk out to the kitchen. I figured it had been an appropriate enough amount of time spent with Harry; confident that Gemma wouldn’t send me back, I started on my way. 

I don’t know what made me turn around to catch the expression on his face, to check and see if it was just a facade that fell away when I turned my back, but I did.

He looked genuinely remorseful. I hated it. Because I knew that if I stuck around long enough, I would start to fall for it and I wasn’t ready to do that quite yet. Which was why I was going to grab another beer for the road and order myself an Uber. Everyone would understand. Melody might even go with me, if Gemma wasn’t still holding her captive. 

“I liked the flowers.” My voice was almost silent, but of course he heard it.

“Yeah?”

I didn’t answer him, just left him standing in his room in search of Melody and more alcohol. 

~

“It’s one hundred percent considered literature. I agree with you.”

I was nodding my head at my own words as I smiled at Daisy Callahan. She was sitting across from me, also decked out in her pajamas which made me love her even more. Currently, we were discussing whether or not fanfiction should be considered literature, though it wasn’t much of an argument since we both agreed it did.

“I mean, look at how many fanfictions have been turned into huge adaptions. There’s Fifty Shades, which was originally Twilight fanfiction—”

Jeremiah cut Daisy off from his place in the soundbooth. “Are we really going to consider Fifty Shades a piece of literature though?”

“Actually,” Daisy started, turning to Jeremiah and giving him a smirk, “I wrote my thesis on a work that was considered fanfiction. Jean Rhys wrote her novel Wide Sargasso Sea in response to Jane Eyre, but from the perspective of Bertha, Rochester’s crazy first wife. I wrote about the racial difference between Rhys and Brontë and how that inspired the book. Got a nice master’s degree out of it.” Daisy shrugged happily when Jeremiah conceded, raising his hands as if to say fine, you win.

It was nice to be getting back into the swing of things. Harry’s party a few days ago had shaken me up. I hadn’t been expecting to run into one of the Styles siblings, let alone both of them. In all honesty, leaving when I had was probably the best decision I’d ever made in my life. If I had stayed, I would have downed every last beer bottle I could find and then did something regrettable, like actually forgive Harry Styles for all the shit he had put me through. Though I told Harry I was tired of being angry at him, it didn’t mean all that hatred just went away.

“There’s also the huge After phenomenon,” Daisy supplied as another example. I wanted to groan. Think of the devil and the devil shall appear. “Petra, do you still keep in touch with Harry? Do you know how he feels about the whole fanfiction thing?”

I blinked. “I, er, I’m not sure. I don’t really ask him about it.” I didn’t really talk to him at all, so it wasn’t surprising. “He doesn’t really seem like the type to mind it, I guess.”

“That’s exactly my point! Most celebrities feel flattered that audiences love them so much that they want to sit down and create a whole world for them...” 

Daisy was off on her tangent again, and I knew I could sit back and relax. She’d been on the show before, which was why she was so confident and comfortable sitting in her pajamas. I also knew she talked a lot. Which was perfectly fine with me because my mind was still on how stupid I had been at the party. I shouldn’t have even stepped through the doors, and I should have left the second I found out it was his place. 

Harry hadn’t tried to contact me since the party. Since it was only the week before, I hadn’t expected him to. But I was happy he seemed to be taking my words seriously. It would take time for me to stand being around him. Someone who had gotten in contact with me, however, was Gemma. She’d found me on Instagram and followed me. We’d been chatting back and forth about random and trivial things, never really bringing up her brother or the damage he’d done to me. Instead, she asked how work was going and if Veronica and Bailey were going to get engaged soon. 

Daisy and I finished up our conversation and Jeremiah cut the sound. We both stood, our joints popping and creaking from sitting down in one position for so long. “That was fun, Petra.”

“Always nice having you back, Daisy.”

Jeremiah and Veronica were chatting in the booth, yet to open up the door. Which was why Daisy leaned over to me and whispered, “Hey, can I ask you a question?” Without waiting for me to respond, she continued. “Is Jeremiah seeing anyone?”

I blinked at her, surprised by what she was asking me. In the years I’d known Jeremiah, he’d only had one serious girlfriend. They lasted six months, but Jeremiah was gutted when she broke up with him. He had been telling me that he thought she was the one he was going to marry. That had been nearly two years ago. “Not that I know of. Why, you thinking about going for it?”

Daisy was a pretty girl. She had short hair cut to her shoulders, in a dark brown that nearly looked black. Right now she was wearing pajamas, but I’d seen her enough to know she was about my size, despite the fact that she towered over me by at least six inches. She’d always been kind to me. Given my track record with people, this was a big factor. “I dunno. We always have nice chats when I’m here. And he always walks me to my car. He’s sweet.” We both looked back at the booth, where Jeremiah was sitting. He was clicking away at something on the computer, looking like he was arguing with Veronica. “And damn, Petra, he’s fit as hell.”

A laugh escaped my throat, unbidden, and Daisy giggled along with me. I’d never considered Jeremiah fit, but I supposed subjectively, he was. I had always just known him as my friend Jeremiah, so there was never any attraction between us. “I think if you want to, you should go for it.” It would be nice to see Jeremiah get out of his shell a bit.

“Yeah?” When I nodded, she let out a breath. “Oh good. I thought there might have been something going on between you two.”

Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I shook my head. “He’s like an annoying older brother.”

Daisy laughed. “Well, I think I’m gonna ask for his number then. Maybe when he walks me out.”

Veronica left with a smile and a promise to see me later. Jeremiah, true to Daisy’s word, offered to walk her out to her car before Zach got here to pick him up. Which left me alone in Outset, sitting in the sound booth and getting a pad and paper. I would start listening to see if it all sounded good and jot down anything if I heard it.

My phone lit up with an Instagram message notification. I assumed it was Gemma, continuing on our conversation about Veronica and Bailey, so I picked it up absentmindedly and slid my finger across the notification to open it. When I looked down, however, I realized it was from a completely different Styles sibling.

I wanted to follow you on Instagram, but I figured I’d better ask you first. 

I was trying really hard not to be mad at him, because I hadn’t lied when I said I was exhausted of it. But it was shit like this, him thinking that things were okay between us just because of one drunken lapse in judgement on my part by letting me know I liked the flowers, that made me mad. 

Do whatever you want, Harry. I don’t care.

But I did care. I didn’t want him seeing my personal life. There were pictures of me at Comic-Con, pictures of me holding up a new book with the biggest grin on my face, and a video of me dancing around in an alien costume for my twenty-third birthday. Giving him access to that, to see me at my most vulnerable, was a mistake. When I glanced back down to my phone, I saw that he had read my message. 

I waited for the notification that he followed me, but it never came.

[rosesanthology]

And Yet... | Akaashi Keiji x F!Reader [musician!AU]

Violinist!Akaashi x Pianist!Reader (yes i saw that one Viria fanart)

Ive been feeling extremely bad these days but im managing to write some things for my emotional support hq boys (Akaashi and Kenma) so here u go even tho its probably a lil shitty 👁3👁 its all about them la la land type of vibes

Warning : i didn't proofread this, also it's VERY self indulgent

Songs : • city of stars from La La Land (but Dodie and Jon Cozart's cover)

• any of the songs in the fic but especially Bach's violin sonata in presto IT SLAPS

[Tags] : @raevaioli

- You've always admired the way human life entertwines itself with art. The vicissitudes of a fleating existence finding a way to express themselves in external stimulations, the way someone could pour as much of their soul, as much as themselves in just one moment, one performance, one artwork.

- it is the main reason why you decided to become a pianist. The second one being that you could hardly put as much effort on anything else

- your mother would argue that it is but a mere childhood dream to do something as uncertain, sure.

- and yet, the first time your performed in front of an actual audience, even if it was just at your high school's theatre auditorium, still felt like the best

- you had registered in the student showcase program without your mother knowing, wearing not the dark blue dress you dreamed of but a hoodie, some jeans and sneakers

- in the moment it seemed fine even if you did look way underdressed than the other kids who registered for piano too

- but it all seemed to tie together with your whole personna as you sat on the stool making sure to put your tiny moomin plushie on top of the grand piano

- he helped a lot

- at that time you played Tanjirou no Uta because well....there's only so much you can expect from a high schooler who lacks confidence in their skills

- regardless of the song your fingers danced onto the heavy keys, the sound swirling with your own emotions as you tried to concentrate on the one thing you wanted the most,

- "Somebody, look at me."

- because there is such a big difference between only being seen by people and actually being looked, observed, analysed

- at the time you wanted someone to look at you and wonder if what they were feeling listening to your piece was flooding their brain the same way it flooded yours

- if the lingering sound of pressed keys made their heart and time stop in the same way it did yours so well whenever you played

- it mattered. In that moment, only that mattered, but sooner or later it had to end

- until then, the only person who was able to exactly tell the things you wanted to convey was your childhood best friend Akaashi Keiji

- he was of wealthier upbringing, his parents always so uptight and pressuring him into their perfect mold in which he seemed to fit so oddly well

- and yet, he always found time to be there for you and help you in your struggles, he was far more musically inclined than you because of his background but his eyes never lost their gentle glint as you would mess up the keys to a piece

- he'd always take his time to let you know how much he liked hearing you play even if you insisted that you weren't as good as him, his smile never wavered as he rested his chin on his palms and closed his eyes, listening to your fifth poor attempt at playing Clara Schumann's sonata in G minor

- that was your typical sunday afternoon in his living room, playing the day away intoxicated in the calmness of his scent of flowers and warm cotton

- when you finished, people didn't seem to mind the choice of the song nor the stuffed toy that added to your whole appearance, if anything you only heard encouragements, advices and heartfelt returns

- among them was Akaashi of course, ever so gentle but marking in his praise, making you feel like maybe you were worth standing on that stage

- it wasn't much compared to what the middle school kids who played Mozart got but, it gave you enough of a push to have the strength to call yourself a pianist today

- nothing really changed in your little world, you still had your moomin plush sitting on the piano everytime you performed and the same simple attitude, now you just knew your classics and could play something else than anime music even if you did manage to fit a little song once in a while

- what changed tho is that you and Akaashi had grown appart after he had left

- his parents had suddenly decided to register him in some fancy music college in Paris

- away from you

- at the time, you knew that no amount of tears and words could possibly matter in the final decision

- but it's not like you could ever control yourself when he held you in his arms like he did when he broke the news to you

- you were never that gracious at goodbyes

- but if it meant that he could get the life he deserved than you were willing to make that sacrifice, even if he wouldn't have the time to talk to you as much as before

- in the meantime you would continue to grow as a person and as an artist if not for you then for him

- and that's what you've been doing for the past four years

- and it is exactly what brought you to accept the offer to perform at another musician showcase tonight

- it was fancier than a high school show that's for sure. It was held in one of these candle lit restaurants, but not the impersonal ones where the tables are five meters away from each other

- it was one of these places where everybody seemed to know each other and relish in the warmth of sharing the same pleasant time while listening to live concerts

- after your own performance you sat back down with the other musicians, talking a bit with the pretty cellist Kiyoko Shimizu, who finished her own before yours

- when the lights dimmed and the next musician stepped on the stage your heart almost stopped

- there stood your dearly missed friend in flesh and bones, violin and bow in hand, or at least you thought so

- he started playing and you watched from the side, amazed, your heart achung with the resonance of the instrument as he gently swayed to such a hard piece as Bach's sonata No. 1 in presto

- the ground and the rest of the room seemed to dismantle around you as all you could think about was the man playing music off of your very heart strings, the man who you've known for a long time and who had been such a huge inspiration and motivation in your existence

- the man who always was so sensible and observant despite coming off as stoic to most people, the same one who was always gentle and motivating all the whilst excelling in what he did himself

- this was Akaashi Keiji.

- and right now he was playing such a fast piece with an unspoken surprising sadness to it as if he'd disappear into ashes the second he stopped, the second he relaxed

- but it eventually had to come to an end, the sound of the strings tearing you appart to reveal the most vulnerable parts of yourself to him like it always did on sunday afternoon practice

- the realization came crashing into you as he bowed to the audience and locked eyes with you, sending you a small smile before disappearing backstage

- naturally, you went after him your breath hitching and your whole being coming to a halt three meters away from him

- you had been way farther away from each other and yet, these three meters felt the worst

- he turned to you, and as casually as if he never left opened his arms for you to run into and that's just what you did

- his own heart was pounding as he caressed your hair, whispering phrases like "it's okay" or "im here now" as you sobbed into his chest

- he still smelled of wild flowers and cotton.

- "let's go catch up outside Y/N?" He said just for you to hear

- he brought you two outside on a bench overlooking the city and its lights but you couldn't help but keep your eyes on him by fear that he'd disappear again

- "w-why are you here ?" you stammered without thinking

- "why you don't want me here ?"

- "Yes- Well no- i mean yes i want you here and-"

- his laugh resonated even more than his violin if that was possible and you didn't have to wait long to feel your face heat up

- "first thing you do is laugh at me...." you said, playing with his fingers on your lap, a thing you did back then whenever he was nervous and started fiddling with his hands, even tho you were the nervous one now

- he sighed, the previous sadness from his playing as if blown away by that tiny impatient breath of air

- "i came back on my own. I missed you Y/N", he smiled again,

- "i missed you too...but what happened to your studies ? You always said you lived for music ?" you incquired, squeezing his hand maybe a little too hard in aprehention

- "i did...i did but i realized many things abroad"

- "like what ?"

- "im a little disappointed Y/N you used to be so good at guessing what i wanted to convey with my music" he said raising an eyebrow at you and laughing once more when seeing the confused look on your face

- "i may have said i lived for music yes and yet...i always knew that i live for you."

[virgilsinferno]

SPILLR  » CHAPTER TWO

important :: this is a horror fic and may contain triggering content

tw :: mentions of a toxic relationship, death mention, nightmares

word count :: 3761

notes :: i may or may not have accidentally deleted this the first time when i tried to open photoshop sdfhdf

intro || 1

Saturday morning. 2:10 am, to be precise. Virgil couldn’t sleep, so he sat on the windowsill and sketched out the view he could see from the window. He did that for a while until he got a craving for some Doritos. Logan’s parents never buy any chips, which meant there were no Doritos lying around in the house. Roman might keep a stash in his room, but they don’t talk as much so that would just be plain awkward. The only way he could get himself a bag of Doritos or two is by going to a convenience store. Alas, the nearest one was a 15 minute walk.

Not to worry, it’s for a good cause anyways—if one could call satiating the need for junk food a good cause. He put on his purple hoodie, moving quietly and carefully as to not wake up Logan. They’re friends. They can sleep in the same room and share a bed if they wanted to.

Endurance was one of his strengths, so he ran to 7-11 to get to the Doritos faster. Upon entering the store, he was greeted by the sound of door chimes. He had already memorized where the aisle with the chips were. Virgil’s movements could be compared to a robot programmed to take a particular path. On the way to the cashier, Virgil also grabbed two cans of Pepsi. One for him, and one for Logan. They had no coke in stock, which was highly disappointing. He paid for the items and opened one bag of chips on the way out.

As he ate his chips, he made sure to chew much more slowly than he’s used to, in case he needs his sense of hearing to get away from danger. That’s the downside of eating anything crunchy when you’re walking outside… alone… in the dark… ‘cause the street lights aren’t working.

While on the subject of needing the sense of hearing, there was the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching his direction. It could mean a lot of things, but the first thing that popped up in his mind was that someone started jogging way too early. Best case scenario: they’re just a jogger. Worst case scenario: they’re a jogger and they know him personally and they’re going to start a conversation with him. He puts his hood up, in hopes that whoever that was, they’d leave him be and keep on jogging.

“Virgil! Virgil, hey!” They called out. He started walking faster. They still managed to catch up.

“Oh thank the heavens,” they said, walking beside him and matching his pace. “For a second, you had me thinking you were someone else.”

“That’s what I was trying to do.” Virgil retorted. He focuses on walking forward. He does not look at who’s next to him.

“Geez kiddo, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

“No.” Virgil says through a mouthful of Doritos. A sign that he’s lowering his guard. They walk in silence for a short period of time.

“By the way, I’m Patton! We have a few classes together.”

Virgil looks at him. He’s definitely seen him around at school. Didn’t he wear glasses? Maybe he’s got contacts on. The guy was just as sweet as he looked. Although he’s heard a few rumors about him… not being as nice as he looked, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. The guy looked as harmless as a pink butterfly stuck on a marshmallow. He could be wrong, but what’s a better teacher than your past mistakes? If he were to die that night, he hoped that Logan would still get his Pepsi.

“I know.” said Virgil.

“So… where are you headed to?” Patton asks, trying to start a conversation between them going.

“Home.” Virgil responds. It’s not quite true, but not entirely false. A half-truth, if you will. The Castillo residence became his second home, just as the the Armati residence became Logan’s second home. To put it shortly, they hung out together a lot in each other’s homes.

“Oh okay, why are you up so early then?”

“None of your business.”

“Sorry.”

A part of him thinks that he was a bit too harsh, but another part of him wants to keep his guard up. He stayed quiet. Patton no longer asked any questions. Once again, they walked together in awkward and uncomfortable silence. That was, until, it was broken by Patton’s phone going off.

“You don’t keep your phone on silent?” Virgil scoffed.

Patton apologized once more in response, then did it again as he gestured to his phone, indicating that he’s going to answer the call. Virgil nodded and began to eat slowly.

“Dallon, please stop calling me, I’m going to delete your number. No, I’m not at home right now. Why should I tell you? I’m gonna hang up, and if you keep spreading rumors about me, so what? I know the truth. Goodbye, Dallon.”

In the short amount of time that Virgil has gotten to know Patton, he thinks Patton is the strongest person he’s ever met. Yet again, he doesn’t socialize too often.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes filled with genuine concern. He’s not sure if physical contact would help, so he decides on not placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder and instead tilts the open bag of Doritos towards him, allowing him to grab a handful of chips. Patton gladly takes some.

“Yeah, just getting rid of toxic people.” Patton says with a weak chuckle. He starts to feel uncomfortable and changes the topic entirely. “Have you heard that Clara went missing?”

“Who?” Remembering names obviously isn’t Virgil’s strongest point.

“The girl who sits at the front in Math class? Really light blonde hair? I think she bleached it.”

Wait… that girl? Virgil’s pretty sure that Patton just described the girl he saw in his dream when he took a nap. Well, Logan says he took a nap on his bed due to physical exhaustion. What did he even do yesterday?

“Uh yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen her around.” Virgil says, looking away. Patton gets a text notification. Virgil continues to walk, unaware that Patton has stopped walking.

When he turns to his left to ask about something, that’s when he realizes that Patton wasn’t walking beside him. He looks behind him and calls out Patton’s name, feeling a bit scared that Patton left him because he probably didn’t like talking to him. Apparently, he was just reading a text message on his phone with the brightness turned all the way up.

Why is his phone emitting such a strong white light? It can’t be the flashlight, since it’s coming from the screen itself, so perhaps the brightness level is at its maximum? Virgil walks towards Patton, thinking that he’s simply reading a text message. But as he gets closer, he starts getting uncomfortable.

Anyone would find this level of brightness in such a dark area a nuisance and lower it. Patton did not flinch nor squint. He just stared at his phone with his mouth slightly agape. A few more steps closer and Virgil sees that Patton’s eyes were glowing white. As bright as his phone screen. He panics and drops the paper bag containing the open bag of Doritos, the unopened bag of Doritos, and the two Pepsi cans. Thankfully, the paper bag stood upright and none of the contents spilled out. He immediately slaps the phone off of Patton’s hands, causing it to fall on the ground. He sighs in relief when he saw Patton’s eyes become normal again. That was the freakiest shit he’s ever experienced his entire gosh darn 17 years of living. For a moment he stood as still as a statue due to the shock of what just happened, but quickly recovered and brushed it off as his eyes playing tricks on him.

He picks up the phone and checks if there are any cracks from the fall. There were none. For a second it glitches and a single eye is on the middle of the screen. It disappears just as fast as it had appeared. Virgil blamed this one on the fall. He hands Patton his phone back then takes the paper bag that was on the ground.

“By the way, I was gonna ask you if you knew when Clara went missing.”

Patton looks at him with the most baffled expression on his face. “Who?”

“Blondie from Math class? Weren’t we just talking about her a few minutes ago?” Virgil supplies, slightly confused as to how the hell Patton forgot what they were talking about so quickly.

“There’s no one named Clara in Math class. Trust me, I know everyone at school.”

That was weird. Maybe he accidentally edited a memory? Yeah, he’ll go with that.

It wasn’t long before Virgil and Patton were standing right in front of the Castillo residence. He didn’t know if Logan would mind him bringing someone along, nor did he know if Patton would even want to hang out with the two of them. From what he had observed throughout their conversation, it seemed that Patton’s a genuinely good guy.

“Hey, do you wanna come over at my best friend’s place?”

“Oh! Yes please, I don’t think going home right now would be a good idea…”

“Alrighty then.”

Virgil knocked on the door and was greeted by Roman, Logan’s annoying younger brother. Seriously, how does Logan deal with him? He’s trying to be less rude to him, since Roman is obviously trying to be nicer to him. Back then, they only spoke to each other when they were throwing an insult at one another. They slightly talk more than before, but mostly to discuss their opinions on Disney films, musicals, and music they’re currently into.

“Ah, it’s you again, Gloom Boy!” Roman exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. He started listening to Waterparks, and thought that Virgil would be proud of him for that reference. Logan would be glad that they’re getting along.

“Huh. One reference to Waterparks doesn’t make us instantly best friends.” Virgil said in a teasing manner. So maybe they could be friends after all.

“I think it can!” Roman huffed.

“Whatever you say, Awsten Knight-in-shining-armor.” Virgil said with a playful smile.

“You just gave me a nickname! We truly are friends now!” Roman was so overjoyed, that he hadn’t noticed Patton standing next to Virgil. “And who’s this puffball over here?”

“Hi, I’m Patton!”

“Roman Castillo, at your service.” He bowed like the dramatic little theatre geek he is. Patton giggled, and Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay, now get in the house because I just tried baking and I need someone to try the cookies for me. I already woke Logan up to ask him, but he said he didn’t want to get poisoned.”

“Oooh! I love cookies!”

Then the perfect idea came to Virgil’s mind. “You two go do that, I’ll be in Logan’s room.”

Now that Patton went to eat cookies with Roman in the kitchen, he could discuss what happened earlier with Logan. That is, if he was still awake. If not, he’d just wake him up.

He went up the stairs two steps at a time, having a firm grip on the paper bag instead of the railings. Logan never locked his door, so he slammed it open in dramatic fashion. His best friend was used to this and paid him no mind, focusing on reading the newspaper before him. Virgil called out his name and tossed one of the two Pepsi cans at him. Logan caught it due to his fast reflexes. It wasn’t as cold as when Virgil bought it, but that was fine.

“I have an issue. I think my eyesight is getting worse.” said Virgil, sitting down on the bed next to Logan.

“Then you need to get your eyes checked.” Logan deadpanned.

“Random question, have you heard about any missing people?” Virgil asked, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

“In fact, I have. The newspaper from yesterday says that 7 people have gone missing recently. Two of which are students in the school you go to.”

“From… my school? What’re their names?”

Logan flips the pages of the newspaper. “Let’s see… Oh, perhaps I remembered it incorrectly. There is only one missing person from your school. Dallon Montgomery, 17 years old. Do you know him?”

And where did he hear that name, again? Could it be? “I don’t, but Patton knows everyone from school. He might. Is there anything about a girl named Clara?”

“None that I know of.”

Virgil nodded. This is fine, he thought. Just his mind playing tricks on him again. The sun hasn’t even risen yet and things were already fucking with him. He excused himself for a moment and went down to the kitchen. Virgil took the plate of cookies and dragged the other two by the arm, causing them to follow behind him. Soon enough, all four of them were in Logan’s room, sitting on the bed with their legs crossed.

“Patton, you mentioned a Dallon earlier. What’s his real name?”

“Dallon Montgomery, why?” Patton replied through a mouthful of cookies.

“Virgil who is this?” asked Logan through a whisper, tugging softly on his best friend’s hoodie.

“Ah, right, introductions. Patton this is Logan, Logan this is Patton. We’re friends now, I think.”

“Of course we are, you sweet shadowling! By the way, Logan, we have the same glasses! Except you can’t see them because I left them at home.”

“Why am I here?” Roman whined, taking the Doritos from Virgil. He got a glare, but they’re on good terms so it’s fine.

Chaos ensues. The other three keep talking, which is good since they’re getting along, but Virgil had to discuss something with them. So much was going on, so Virgil grabbed his phone that was under his pillow (or Logan’s pillow, for that matter) and played an air horn sound effect. It caused Logan and Patton to jump in surprise, and Roman let out a deafening high-pitched scream.

Virgil smirked. “Anyways, as I was saying, something weird is going on. First I get a Spillr account-”

“You didn’t follow back.” Roman interjected. Virgil rolled his eyes and continued speaking.

“So I get a Spillr account out of the blue. I never downloaded it, I never made an account. But guess what, I wake up from a 3 hour nap and had a dream that I did in fact make one and even used fake information. I think it’s much more fitting to call it a nightmare, so that’s what I’m calling it. So in this nightmare, I didn’t end up creating an account but I do remember it said something weird about how I used incorrect information and that I should try again.”

“Where are you going with this?” His best friend asked.

“Eventually, I got murdered by the dark void. But before that, there were other two people who made an appearance that I can distinctly remember. One’s a girl with bleach blonde hair. She sits at the front of the class and owns a tumbler containing dark-colored liquid. The other is a boy with freckles all over one side of his face and yellow eyes. Which, I think are probably contact lenses.”

The description of the boy Virgil had mentioned was too familiar. Logan felt like Virgil had just described his good friend, Dmitri. “I’m going to interrupt for a moment. I know someone with freckles on the left side of their face and uses contact lenses with unique eye colors. His name is Dmitri, perhaps you know him?”

“No? I’ve never met anyone with that name ever.” Virgil replied.

“What are we supposed to do with this information? Interpret your dream?” Roman joked.

“And whilst walking with Patton moments prior to this, he mentioned something about a girl in Math class going missing. He described her as how I described the girl in my dream. He said her name was Clara. Before that, he got a phone call and I know eavesdropping is wrong but he was next to me so I could hear what Patton was saying. He mentioned the name Dallon. Also, at one point, his phone was glowing and so were his eyes and I freaked out and slapped the phone out of his hands but that’s not important. Or is it? Okay so after that phone incident, I asked him about when Clara had gone missing but he said he didn’t know anyone at school named Clara.”

By now, the other three were confused as hell. Logan spoke up. “Could you talk a bit slower? There is so much information that I can’t comprehend.”

Virgil sighed. “Let me put it in a timeline for you.” He rummaged through the bedside drawer and fished out a piece of paper and a pen. He drew a line and a few points and began explaining.

“Yesterday I took a nap here on Logan’s bed. I cannot recall anything that happened before I fell asleep so don’t ask. I woke up before dinner and found out that I had a Spillr account. I deleted it because that shit is creepy as hell and overrated. My phone glitched momentarily and I think it’s just my eyesight going bad, but all the app icons turned into the Spillr one, so that’s fucking freaky. Early this morning I went to 7-11 and bought two bags of Doritos and two cans of Pepsi. When I was walking back here, that’s when Patton saw me and started talking to me. I didn’t want to talk to him at first, but look where we are now. Then these events go as follows: Patton gets a phone call. Patton tells me about missing girl from Math class. Patton’s phone does the glowy thing and so does his eyes. Again, my eyesight is really bad but I swear his phone glitched and I saw an eye for a second. Patton forgets mentioning Clara. Now we’re here and Logan’s telling me that he knows the boy I saw in my nightmare.”

“That is… a lot to take in.” Roman comments. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that I think something strange is going on, and that things aren’t what they seem. I feel like I’m in some sort of danger.”

“Nonsense. If your eyesight is that bad, then let’s see how well you can read letters from a 20 feet distance.” He takes Virgil to one side of his room, where the Snellen eye chart is hung on the wall. Needless to say, he had perfect 20/20 vision despite being on his phone all the time.

“But L, what I’m trying to say is that my eyes are making me see things. I know I don’t need glasses.”

“Ah, but you would look adorable in them.”

Roman, Patton, and Virgil stared at him in shock. His brother speaks up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I am merely stating a fact. It’s true. Would you like to see the proof?”

“Yes please! Oooh, I wanna see Virge with glasses!”

Logan takes out his phone and goes through the album titled “Favorites” in his camera roll. He shows the other two a picture of Virgil wearing non-prescription glasses. The other two gush over the picture as Virgil retreats to hoodie town.

The sudden knocking at Logan’s window gave them a shock. Virgil runs back to the bed and takes out a baseball bat that was hidden underneath since it might be a robber and they could all die at that very moment. Patton squeaks and grabs Logan’s arm.

“Who dares enter this household?!” Roman threatens, drawing back the curtains. The room was on the second floor, but the first floor had a high ceiling. There was nothing nearby—like trees, for example—that could give easy access to the window, unless the person had a ladder.

No one was outside the window, except for a piece of torn paper attached to the window with tape. Roman opens the window and snatches the piece of paper.

Written on it were the words “I see you.” and below it was a drawing of an eye similar to the Spillr icon.

“I’m siding with Virgil, this is scary!” Patton says, still clinging onto Logan’s arm like his life depended on it. Logan didn’t seem to mind.

“You know what? Me too.” Roman adds.

They look at Logan who appeared to be deep in thought.

“This is but an elaborate prank.” He says.

Then Roman receives a notification. He takes out his phone to see what it was. There was nothing. His phone started to glow a bright white and his eyes felt so drawn to it, he couldn’t look away. Virgil screamed and threw it on the beanbag, which was quite far from the bed, but it landed on the beanbag anyways.

“That’s what happened to Patton earlier! This is not a prank, L!”

“That happened… to me?” Patton asked, clearly terrified.

“Roman, give me the piece of paper.” His older brother demanded.

“What paper, Lo?”

“The one that was on the window, dumbass!”

“What do you mean? Did you start putting your research papers on the window? You have a lot of space on the walls, you know.”

“Roman, stop playing dumb.”

“I really don’t know anything about papers on windows. Hold on, lemme post on Spillr that I baked cookies.”

Logan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was too early for this bullshit. Virgil on the other hand, was freaking out along with Patton. Their new friend had released Logan’s arm from his death grip and moved closer to Virgil.

“Um, who changed my lockscreen to this ugly thing?” Roman asked, showing his phone which had a white eye icon in the middle with a solid black background. Similar to the drawing on the paper.

Patton spots the torn piece of paper on the floor, and hands it to Logan. “Look, I found it!”

“That’s great, Patton.” He mutters.

It was folded again. Logan unfolded it but this time, instead of one eye, the entire thing was covered in eyes with the text remaining the same. Roman could’ve switched it, right? He folds it again then unfolds it, and it was back to how they had originally seen it. One eye and the text in the middle.

“I’m calling Dmitri and inviting him over. He might know something.”

“This early?”

“Don’t worry Patton, I’m certain he sleeps at 4 in the morning.”

“Wait Lo, why don’t we call our parents?”

“Roman, while that is a good idea, I don’t think they’ll believe us.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

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Previous 

[dakotacrisis]

Just A Friend (Not) Pt 3

Adrien is flustered, Marinette wants to help, and Plagg knows more than expected. (Happy belated birthday @wild-mare-of-prosecution!)

“Good evening, my lady,” Chat Noir landed on the roof, “I didn’t think you were coming out on patrol tonight.”

Marinette turned to her partner with a big smile. “I wasn’t but I finished all my work earlier.” She was also full of unbridled nervous energy that needed burned off.

“Far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth. You know I’m always happy to have you along.”

“I do.” they took off across the rooftops keeping an eye out for any trouble. Marinette was leaping by so fast that it felt like she was walking on air. It took her a minute to realize she had left her partner in the dust as a result.

She stopped and waited for him to catch up. “Tired tonight, chaton?”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the right mindset for patrolling tonight. Some stuff happened earlier today and it’s gotten me a tad confused.”

“Anything I can help with?”

He looked at her with those big sad kitten eyes and her heart started to melt. What could have possibly happened to her pun spewing partner that he was this out of it?

“Don’t worry yourself with it. I’ll figure it out later.” Chat assured her. Before she could call him on his bluff he changed the subject. “You on the other hand seem to have enough energy for the both of us. Something good happen or was finishing your work that motivating?”

Marinette blushed slightly thinking back on her day with Adrien. “I had a good day. Nothing you’d be interested in though.”

“What makes you think that? I’m interested in anything that makes my lady so happy.”

Marinette sighed as she gazed at her partner. She could lie to him. Tell him it was just a good day for vague happy reasons and not because she had went to lunch then had a study date with her crush that ended with a kiss. Then again if she was actually making headway with Adrien and it went somewhere then the next time Chat flirted with her she’d have to reject him again. Seeing as how he got all pouty on her anytime she snubbed his affections that didn’t seem a good idea. It was better to clear the air now.

“You remember that boy I said I’m in love with?” she said quietly.

Immediately Chat deflated. “Yeah?”

This isn’t fair! He needs to stop with the sad kitten eyes! Oh boy this was a mistake.

“Well...we pretty much spent the entire afternoon together and we have plans to hang out again tomorrow.”

“That...That’s great.”

“I told you you weren’t going to be interested.”

He was quiet for a long time. It went from normal processing silence to extremely awkward why-did-I-say-anything-in-the-first-place kind of silence. He definitely should have said something by now. Should she say something? He’s been staring off into the distance for a good five minutes straight. Did she break her partner? Please don’t be broken.

“Chat Noir?” she poked his shoulder.

That must have been the restart button because he snapped back into awareness and looked at her earnestly. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not upset about the whole other boy thing are you?”

“No.” Something changed in him. She couldn’t say what but he was calmer, more grounded.

“Excuse me for not believing that wholesale. You spaced out on me for a good while after I told you I was going on dates.”

“Apologies. I started thinking about something and let my thoughts run wild.” he sat down on the edge of the roof. Marinette went to join him as they stared out over the city. “I’m not upset about you going on dates with your crush. A part of me is actually kinda relieved to hear that you’re starting something.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there’s this girl that I have a huge crush on that I didn’t even realize I was crushing on her until this afternoon. I was so confused about how I could like two people at once and trying to figure out if one feeling trumped the other. Now, hearing you talk about the boy you like, well, it feels like the excuse I needed to let go and move on.”

“Let go?” Marinette couldn’t help the sad ache in her heart. Though she would never admit it she had always harbored a special place for Chat Noir in her heart. He isn’t just her partner but her friend and while he could irk her something fierce she never once wished he wasn’t around. A part of her always knew that under Adrien-free circumstances things between them may have been different. But this was not an Adrien-free world (thank goodness) and so while Chat had a spot in her heart the rest was completely Adrien’s.

“I’ll always love you as a friend, as a crush, and as my partner.” Chat laid a hand on top of hers. “But I know now that I can’t force you to feel something you don’t and I can’t keep pushing away how I obviously feel for someone else. I only hope that this doesn’t change anything between us.”

Marinette’s heart swelled with pride for her chaton. He was maturing. Being happy for her and understanding her side of things instead of giving her the cold shoulder and guilt tripping her. She was also glad to hear that he had someone of his own that he liked outside of her. Chat’s a great guy and he needed and deserved some proper attention and affection. If this girl hurts him though heads would roll.

She looked at him, her partner, and smiled. “Of course this doesn’t change anything. I’m happy for you. I hope for your sake that this girl you like can stomach all those puns, chaton.”

“Well I hope this boy you’re in love with can handle your painful attempts at pun making.”

“Painful?!” she gaped at him. “Excuse you but my puns are clever and hilarious.”

“You’re good at a great many things Ladybug but your puns are--how do I put this delicately--kinda obvious and not that humorous.”

Do not throw your partner across Paris. Do NOT throw your partner across Paris.

“You decide to let go of your crush on me and your immediate line of thought led you to insult my pun ability?”

“I say it because I care. You need to get punnier if this friendship is going to last.”

“You need to get faster if you leaving patrol with your tail attached is going to last.”

Slowly he started to inch away. “I sense I struck a nerve.”

“Insulting a girl’s pun prowess is no joking matter.”

“Ooh, you see, now that was a good one. Keep that up and you’ll catch up to me one day.”

“You are the biggest dork I have ever known and I have to live with myself.”

“And you’re never getting rid of me.”

“I would never want to.” she gave him a little scratch under his chin. They laughed for a moment before taking off over the roofs again. Marinette made as many puns as she could think of and Chat gave her scores out of ten for how good he thought they were. She never made it pass a six which seemed unfair but then again she was spouting off pretty cliche wordplay.

They wrapped up patrol and with a bow from Chat and another dumb but admittedly brilliant pun he leapt off into the night and Marinette returned home. She was glad things with her and Chat Noir had evened themselves out. Now that they had cleared the air she only had to worry about Nino’s party tomorrow and not making a fool of herself in front of Adrien.

Adrien landed back in his house and de-transformed. Plagg zipped off for his cheese while Adrien headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to bed. This evening had not gone as he had expected. He was looking forward to having some time by himself to clear his head and think his whole Ladybug and Marinette feelings thing through but that went out the window when he saw his partner waiting at their usual meet up point.

Not that he wasn’t happy to see her. He was always happy to spend time with her but did curse that he seemed to keep getting his alone time pulled out from under him.

It turned out to be for the better in the long run. They talked and Adrien came to the conclusion that Ladybug was in love with someone else and he needed to accept that. This wasn’t a waiting game. He needed to do what was healthy and would guarantee that his friendship with both Ladybug and Marinette stayed intact. As hard as it was he let his Lady go. She was obviously immensely happy with this mystery boy and Adrien was growing more attached to Marinette with every bat of those baby blue eyes of hers.

He changed into his pajamas and nestled into bed. His mind was speeding by taking his sleep with it. After tossing and turning unable to turn his brain off for a full half hour he sighed in defeat and swung out of bed and turned on his computer. The multiple screens lit up with images from the Ladyblog.

He closed them all and pulled up his Instagram instead. There was a new post from surprise surprise: Marinette. It was a picture of an alarm clock flashing the late hour. ‘Dumb brain. I have stuff to do tomorrow! #letmesleep!’

Adrien liked the photo and scrolled through the other posts on her profile. A lot of them were candid shots of her with friends or family. Others were of designs she was working on or delicious arrangements of the sweets in her parents’ bakery. He paused on a picture of her sitting on her rooftop terrace with the rising sun shining bright but not nearly as radiant as her smile.

Why did he have to have a crush on someone so freaking cute? It just wasn’t fair. How was he expected to function normally when she looked like that? How was he supposed to compare to her? She’s easily the most popular girl in school, she’s insanely talented, and rivals the courage of Ladybug herself. She is fourteen and has connections to Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Nadja Chamack, her world famous chef uncle. She was publicly recognized and praised by Adrien’s hard to please father as well as Chloe’s even harder to please mother! She designs half the clothes she wears and they look professionally made. She was stylish and cute and no doubt she was going to wear something amazing to Nino’s party tomorrow. It would probably be pink. She looks great in pink. This is so bad! He’s gonna look like a complete idiot tomorrow. Not to mention that he promised her a dance. What if he stepped on her feet? What if he got all sweaty? No one wants to dance with a clumsy idiot with sweaty hands that can’t look a girl in the eye because everytime he does he forgets how to speak properly.

Why did Alya and Nino have to make him confront his feelings? This would be so much easier if he had been allowed to stay oblivious.

“You okay, kid?” Plagg asked when he noticed his holder spiraling deeper into his anxiety.

“She’s so great, Plagg. How am I supposed to do anything?” Adrien muttered.

“You’re both a mess so I don’t think she’ll notice you floundering.”

“Shockingly, that doesn’t help me any.”

“What do you want me to say? You’re the one in love with a girl that already has a huge crush on you and is freaking out over whether you’re gonna screw it up before anything’s begun. Get some sleep and stop worrying about it.”

“You’re right.” Adrien slipped back under the covers of his bed, “I shouldn’t be--wait what?! Marinette has a crush on me? Plagg? How do you know that? Plagg! I know you’re not asleep! Plagg! PLAGG!”

---

(1) (2) (4)

[pikuna]

Jim has successfully rescued Enrique and a lot of other human babies from the Darklands, but wasn't able to kill Gunmar. Now back into his world the attacks on him and his friends from the Changelings has increased immensely. In his attempt to save himself from the same attacks Stricklander suggests Jim an alliance and offers his knowledge about the Changelings and Gunmar. Despite the initial distrust, Stricklander proofs to be a reliable ally and starts to enjoy being a member of the Trollhunters. Still he doesn't even dare to talk to the person he cares the most for.

This is basically my try on a redemption story for Stricklander and his chance to get back with Barbara. It got more depth than I had planned had first, but that's not unusual for me. This story is obviously written before season two was aired, so there are a lot of headcanons and assumptions from my side on how things could have proceed after the final of season one. I really hope you guys will enjoy this little prologue. 

A fresh summer breeze was dancing over Arcadia on this Saturday night. The people enjoyed their free time, relishing the sense of no responsibility for the next hours in their peaceful city. Or at least they thought it was peaceful.

For once, just for once, Jim had hoped to have a relaxing evening with no fighting or whatsoever. He had planned to meet with Claire, Blinky, Vendel and a few other Trolls in one of the Trollmarket pubs, have a drink and just talk. But just when he and Claire had stepped into the pub they got the information that a Stalkling was flying over the bridge to Trollmarket, seemingly fighting with someone. Since Jim knew it was no fun to be attacked by this creature, he and Claire decided to help that poor fellow who had become it's target.

Claire had summoned a portal to the canal under the bridge so they would be there in time. As soon as they jumped out of it, Jim summoned his armor and held his sword at ready, looking around for signs of the flying Troll.

"So, what exactly is...a Stalkling?" Claire asked him, preparing herself for whatever their opponent was.

"It's...basically a vulture Troll that stalks it's prey. It's the worst since it can be out in the sun. The only good thing about is that it will attack it's target only if the person is alone." he explained and walked towards the bridge, always on high alert.

"Huh, the name Stalkling seems very fitting then," she remarked and now focused her eyes on the sky.

Jim made a noise of agreement. "Too right. Was once chased by such a beast. That was no walk in the park." There was nothing in the sky, so he walked under the bridge. He was a bit confused. Didn't the reports said there was a fight up here? Maybe the Stalkling had vanished when they had come to the scene, but where was it's target?

"You were chased by such a thing?" Clara's question jolted him out of his thoughts and he turned around to answer her.

"Yeah, Bular had sent it after me. Had grabbed me and flew with me into the stratosphere." He crouched down to look at a few stones that obviously were smashed out of the construction of the bridge. "I would be a pile of sludge, if AAARRRGGHH!!! hadn't-," Jim stopped mid-sentence, his face turned into a pained grimace. After all these weeks it still hurt him to thing about the loss of the gentle giant who was always there to help them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and when he looked to his side he saw the comforting smile of Claire. His own corners of the mouth went up a little bit, but then he heard the sound of crumbling stone and claws scratching over metal. His vigilance came back with full force and he jumped to his feet to be prepared for an attack, as did Claire when she tightened the grip around her staff.

Someone jumped over the beams above their heads. Someone with wings, but far smaller than the ones from a Stalkling. And it had a humanoid body.

The Trollhunters aimed their weapon at the being, ready to block an attack that never came. Instead the being jumped to the far end of the bridge, vanishing into the shadows of it. For a second there was silence, until there was a sound of stone slamming against stone and something fell to the ground.

"The Stalkling!" Jim could recognize it's form and the glowing eyes immediately.

The creature shook itself and then spotted the two humans. With a screech it set of into the air and darted towards them, it's claws ahead for an attack. Jim was able to block the claws, but the strength of the Stalkling pushed him over the ground, away from the bridge and gave him no opportunity to start a counter attack. Only when Claire sent a magic bolt against the beast it eased it's attack and Jim was able to strike out with his sword. He had aimed for the chest, but since the Stalkling tried to fly away he slashed through it's right wing. That was enough to disable the flying creature and it shrieked in pure rage. Now scrambling over the ground, it launched itself into a fully-body attack at Jim. He held is sword up again to block it again, but before the Stalkling was able to scratch him it shrieked again, this time more in pain than in rage.

Confused the Trollhunter watched how the creature slowly turned to stone and when it slumped to the ground it disintegrated into thousand pieces. Just before that happened, Jim had noticed the knives stick out of it's back. What the hell was going on?

"Jim, are you alright?" Claire's concerned voice came closer, until she stood right beside him and inspected him for any damage.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine," he quickly reassured her, his eyes still on the pieces of the Stalkling.

Satisfied with this answer, she also looked at the stones. "What just happened?"

"If I only knew," Jim commented and poked the remains with his sword.

"Ah, so the Trollhunter does indeed follow every call for help, no matter who it is."

Both teenagers jumped at the sudden voice that came from the bridge. It was the someone with the wings, for he jumped from the beams and glided down in front of them.

Jim's eyes went wide.

The wings were new. But he recognized that green skin, the horns and the yellow eyes.

"You!" he said more in surprise than actual anger that started to boil up in him.

"Hello, young Atlas. It's such a delight to see you again," Stricklander greeted him with an elegant bow and a smirk that was far too pleased.