#also they was turning into the WRONG LANE? so my ONLY theory is that they arent used to driving that truck (it looks shiney and new)

[narutomaki]

almost got hit by a big ass truck today while in my (high vis) vest and my KNEE JERK RESPONSE was to look at the driver like "are you serious right now?" and think to myself "but I'm not even at work...."

[spnbabe67]

FMLYHM

Kinktober Day 2: Rough Sex (J.S.)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, slapping, spanking, choking (hand just on the neck) rough sex, language

Summary: Tatum and Hangman butted heads during their time at Top Gun, but when they are both called back for some unknown mission, tensions finally come to a head

Word Count: 3469

Tatum hated her call sign. Popular media would have you believe that callsigns have some badass origin, but in reality the kick ass nicknames often have the most embarrassing and enraging backstories. ‘Ice’ in theory sounds cool, mysterious even, like she was this cold, calm and collected person. If only that were the case. Enter her arch nemesis: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Whoever said that hazing ends in college was dead wrong. Barrack living isn’t pleasant, especially when during the first week of training she was woken up by a bucket of ice water dumped on her head by none other than Top Gun's golden boy. This event sparked a rivalry spanning the entirety of their time training. Back and forth, both Tatum and Jake took verbal, and in the case of dog fighting exercises, literal shots at one another, even going so far as to carry out physical pranks not unlike the inciting incident. By the time of graduation, as far as Tatum was concerned, if she never saw Jake again it’d be too soon. When she got correspondence she was being called back to San Diego something in her gut told her that that “too soon” was about to come to fruition.

The Hard Deck was already bustling by the time Tatum trudged through it's doors. The warm maritime breeze off the Pacific was a welcome change from the cold waters off Norfolk. She had to dig into the back of her closet to find clothes suited for warmer weather, including the pair of shorts and spaghetti strap tank she currently sported. It felt good to be back, Penny providing a familiar face as she approached the bar.

“Hey lovely, welcome back!” Penny didn't even have to ask before plinking two shot glasses down on the bar, filling them to almost overflowing with whiskey. She watched Penny grab one, sliding the other to Tatum. “You look like you could use it.” Tatum gave Penny a knowing smirk and a wink before they both tossed back their shots, Tatum savoring the burn on the way down.

Just then the doors slammed open, signaling the arrival of more evening patrons. Tatum glanced over her shoulder, blue eyes going wide as Jake sauntered in followed closely by Coyote. Tatum ducked back down, sucking on a tooth. Penny gave her a knowing look before refilling her shot glass, stating it was on the house before turning to a dark haired man a few seats down. Tatum swirled the liquor in the glass, eyeing Hangman who was setting up a game of billiards with Coyote. 

He hadn't changed much in the time since Top Gun, still tanned and sandy haired. From the snippets of trash talk that floated over the music and chatter, he was also still a cocky son of a bitch. Tatum shook her head, greedily swallowing down the whiskey. 

The clanging of the bell above the bar startled Tatum from her trip down memory lane, looking over to see the dark haired man Penny had been conversing with looking confused as hell until the bartender and owner pointed to the sign listing the trifecta of rules. Once the uproar of half drunk patrons died down, Tatum shifted from her spot, occupying the stool next to him.

“You must be new here.” Tatum jested, resting her forearms on the polished wood barrier. “Don't sweat it, we're all guilty of it.”

“You're just sayin’ that.” 

Tatum shook her head, smiling to herself at the memory. “Nope. My first week here I fell victim to the same thing you did.” She nodded to the phone the man was now holding.

The man's eyebrows twitched upwards, not an uncommon sight when she mentioned that she was a Top Gun graduate.

Tatum held out her hand. “Lieutenant Tatum Hayes. But my friends call me Ice.”

“At least they would if she had any friends.”

Fuck. A familiar but unwelcome voice sounded from behind her, accompanied by a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny Bagman.” Tatum deadpanned, looking at Jake's hand resting on her shoulder, trailing up his corded forearm, his bicep and eventually to the shit eating grin he sported. “You'd do well to remove your hand from my shoulder lest you lose it.”

She punctuated her thinly veiled warning with a smile that was more threat than a grin. When Jake didn't immediately step off she narrowed her eyes at him staring him down until he pulled his hand away, raising them in a mock placating gesture. 

“Simmer down Sally. Just bein’ friendly.” The ever present tooth pick wiggled with each word that dripped out of his mouth, southern drawl only putting Tatums nerves on edge.

“Huh, is that what they're calling assholery these days?” 

“That's not even a real word.”

“According to Urban Dictionary it is.” It was like no time had passed, their verbal volley as easy as breathing. 

“I take it you two know each other?” The dark haired man looked on with a vaguely amused grin on his face. 

“Unfortunately.” Tatum grumbled at the same time Jake replied in the affirmative in that nerve grating chipper tone.

“Aw come on now. I'm not that bad.” Jake leaned on the bar, the image purely male satisfaction. It was like he got off on riling her up like this. 

Tatum could feel the incessant body heat radiating off of him, he was close enough that if she breathed too deeply her arm would graze his torso. Tatum wasn't sure if she was just hyper aware from being on edge or Jake had gone overboard with his cologne but the sandalwood and bergamot practically shoved its way up her nose and into her lungs, not unlike how Jake inserted himself into her conversation. 

“I plead the fifth.” Tatum attempted to flag Penny down but she was preoccupied with another patron; she needed something, anything to get her out of this before she punched the smug look off of Jake's face.

From the way Jake was positioned behind her, Tatum could feel his breath tickled the back of her neck, making the hairs stand on end. She wished she could say it was unpleasant, how close he was to her, but it'd be a lie of epic proportions.

Jake then turned to the man next to them, a lupine grin adorned his features. “She tell you how she got her call sign?” 

At that Tatum felt her blood shoot up from a simmer to a boil. Her head whipped around, leveling a glare at him. “Don't you fucking dare, Seresin.”

“What? I'm just makin’ conversation.” Jake gestured to the stranger. “I'm sure the old timer here has seen, hell, he's probably participated in worse pranks than dumping ice water on a fellow pilot.” 

It was all Tatum could do to stop herself from throwing a punch. She was sure her face was red, her hands balled into fists. “Fuck you, Bagman.” Tatum reached over the bar, ringing the bell so hard it damn near flew off the hook. “Have fun buying the bar a round.”

Tatum nodded to the stranger before weaving her way through the crowds, ignoring Jake calling after her. Something condescending no doubt. All she could hear as she stormed out of The Hard Deck was the roaring of blood in her head, a pounding that couldn’t even be drowned out by the music she had blasting from the speakers of her truck. 

It wasn’t hard to find her way back to the barracks. The pilots with families, or at least significant others, could have utilized the on base housing, but for the otherwise unattached, back to basics it was. Thankfully it was a different room than the one she occupied while in training, no bitter memories tainting this trip around, at least she hoped. Tatum slung the duffel she’d hastily packed in preparation for flying out here along with her backpack onto the floor, collapsing onto the squeaky, twin sized bed. 

Tatum groaned into her pillow; after not laying down for the first time in almost 12 hours even the thin mattress felt heavenly. She was tossing around the idea of not bothering to undress or shower and just go to sleep where she lay when a knock interrupted her internal debate. Tatum had half a mind to simply ignore the person at the door, but under threat of ignoring a superior officer, she begrudgingly pushed herself up, stumbling over her haphazardly placed bags while doing so.

The annoyance that had waned on her ride over and the brief reprieve in her room was quickly reinvigorated as she was met with nearly a face full of Jake’s chest, the smug man leaning a forearm on the doorframe. Tatum scoffed, moving to slam the door in his face but Jake managed to slip his foot in before it closed all the way. A spark of satisfaction shot it’s way through her as Tatum clocked Jake’s wince with the force she closed the door on his foot, however unintentionally.

“Ice, let me in.”

“Why should I?” Although Jake’s foot prevented her from completely shutting him out, Tatum held her spot on the other side of the door, making it so if he wanted in her room, he’d have to push past her to gain entry.

“Because I asked nicely?”

Tatum stared at him in disbelief. How the fuck could he stand there acting buddy-buddy as if he hadn’t made her life hell for weeks, and continued to do so with his sharp tongue and even sharper smile, his maddening nonchalance. 

Tatum crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. If he was gonna play that game, then she’d play it right back. “How’s your wallet feel, Bagman? Probably pretty empty.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed slightly, a small tell, but one Tatum was familiar with. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“A hole you dug yourself.”

It was Jake’s turn to huff an exasperated laugh. “How? All I did was tell the fucking truth.”

Tatum’s hands fisted back at her sides. “You fucking son of a bitch. You humiliated me!” She couldn’t help the way her voice steadily rose as she became more and more angry. “You have ever since that fucking ‘prank’ on day three.”

“Come on.” Jake threw his head back, sighing through his nose. “You’re still mad about that? It was a fucking prank.”

“You came into my dorm and dumped a bucket of ice-water on me in my sleep!” There was no mistaking Tatum’s tone for anything other than yelling at this point. “Do you realize how violating and frankly immature that is?”

“Immature? That’s rich coming from you. You cut holes in all of my boxers!”

“I was just trying to help facilitate you being the manwhore that you are.” Tatum remembered that particular slight. Jake had pinned a pair of her panties to the bulletin board in the Mess, so when Tatum had been switching her laundry and found Jakes in the dryer she’d picked out all of his boxers, taking her scissors to them, cutting off the flap at the front before putting them back. “I shared a wall with you. You think I couldn’t hear every time you brought a skank to your room?”

There it was again, that panty-dropping smile. Jake had moved off of the door as they argued, but in his pause in their back and forth he leaned forward again, bracing a hand back on the edge of the door frame. “You ever think I wanted you to hear?”

Tatum opened her mouth, ready to spew some vile retort, but the words dripping from Jake's lips settled and Tatum realized what he said. “Wh-What? What’re you even-What?!” 

Every thought and retort suddenly disappeared and her mind went blank. She was so stunned that as Jake eased the door open and slowly prowled closer into her room, Tatum just dumbly backed up. Step by step he backed her into her room, shutting the door and flipping the lock with a neat snick.

“I think you heard me.” Jake said lowly. “And I think you heard me fuck every girl I brought back and imagined it was you.”

Tatum felt her mouth go dry in the same second her panties were instantly soaked. The worst part? He wasn’t wrong. Her bed shared a wall with Jake’s and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t slipped her hand down her sleep shorts a couple times imagining Jake’s sinful mouth against her clit or his dick inside her instead of her own fingers. Tatum watched the way Jakes eyes dipped down to her throat as she swallowed thickly, trailing down to her chest, the way her low cut tank accentuated her breasts, especially the way her crossed arms pushed them upwards. She kept her eyes stubbornly on his face, resisting the urge to let her own eyes wander. She attempted to rebuild her resolve, huffing a breath through her nose.

“I don’t-I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about Bagman.”

“It's Hangman.” Tatum watched as Jakes eyes dipped to her lips

“Whatever.”

She barely got the word out before Jake’s mouth was on hers. It was a rough and aggressive kiss, all tongue and teeth. His grip was rough on the back of her neck, holding her face to his, the other held fast to her hip. With a quick move Jake had her pinned back against the door, the sudden force against her back causing her to gasp. Jake took the opportunity to sweep his tongue further into her mouth, holding her against the door with his hips against her own. Mindlessly her hands brushed up and down his torso, nearly moaning at the hard muscles she felt under her palms. Filthy thoughts flooded her mind. Images of grinding her clit against the ridges of his abs and pecs, his large hands that were gripping her hips guiding her movements. She let hands travel under his shirt, nails scraping against the smooth skin she found there. 

Jake removed his hands from her, pulling his shirt over his head letting it fall to her bedroom floor. Tatum greedily gulped down air as she finally let herself take in the glory that is shirtless Jake Seresin. Tatum pulled her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes dragged from his face down his chest and his torso,down to where there was a noticeable bulge in his jeans.

“I think,” Jake motioned to the corner of his lips. “I think you got a little drool there.”

Tatum grabbed Jake’s jaw, bringing him down to within a hair's breadth of her lips. “Do me a favor.” She leaned forward, nipping his bottom lip. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

Tatum kissed Jake hard, the hand on his jaw threading up into his hair, keeping him close as she pushed him back towards her bed. Tatum yelped as Jake wrapped his arm around her waist, spinning them around so she ended up on her back on her bed Jake hovering over her. Her breathing became shallow as Jake’s hot mouth trailed down her jaw and began to nip and suck down her neck, pulling a low moan from her as he bit at her collarbone. Tatum’s hands found their way to fumble with the button on his jeans, pulling them and his boxer down just enough for his dick to pop out, slapping against his lower stomach. Before she knew it, Tatum found herself on her stomach, a mouth full of her own pillow, Jake kneeling behind her. 

Tatum heard Jake curse as his fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts, surprisingly nimble fingers undoing them before ripping them down her legs. The air was cool against her glistening pussy, her arousal coating her inner thighs. Tatum was glad her face was buried in the pillow because she was sure it was bright red, embarrassed how aroused she was. She shivered as one of Jake’s calloused fingers trailed up her sides, pushing her tank top up, pulling it off with Tatum’s help.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Jake mumbled into the back of Tatums neck as he trailed kisses down her spine. “Wanna know a secret?”

Tatum could barely make sense of the words Jake was mumbling over the pounding rush of arousal. The most she could muster was a halfhearted hum, jolting suddenly as Jake’s thumbs brushed against her pussy lips, spreading them apart. Tatum let out a moan as Jake’s cock rubbed up and down her slit, brushing against her clit that had been throbbing since he had slammed her against the door. Jake’s hands gripped her hips, lifting them up, up, up, using a knee to spread her legs apart. Tatum let out a shuddering moan as Jake’s cock pushed its way into her, she could feel every vein and ridge as she clamped down on him. Jake moaned lowly sinking in until his hips lay flush against her ass, one hand braced on her spine keeping her chest pressed to the mattress. 

She shuddered as she felt his tongue trail up her spine, draping himself over her and pinned her hands to the bed above her head. “Every time I fucked some girl,” Jake pulled out until only the tip of his cock sat inside her before snapping his hips backforward, bottming out in one harsh stroke. “I’d imagine I was fucking this sweet pussy instead.”

Tatum moaned loudly as Jake harshly fucked into her, his crude words only making her wetter, letting his fat cock slide easily in and out of her. She was shoved forward with each hard thrust into her pussy, her hands pinned to her pillow by Jakes, the only thing keeping her from being fucked up the bed. She felt the air flow before the sting of Jake’s hand against her ass cheek. Tatum bit her lip hard enough to taste blood to keep from crying out. Fuck, the pain mixed with the pure arousal of him sliding in and out of her at that rapid pace. Three more times his hand came down in rapid succession, each slap more stingy than the last. This time Tatum did yelp, but it quickly turned into a moan as Jake set a punishing pace, hips slapping against her sore ass. 

“How many times did you touch this pussy wishing your fingers were my cock? Huh?” Jake growled in her ear.

Tatum nearly whined at the empty feeling as Jake pulled out but it was caught in her throat as he manhandled her onto her back before slamming back into her. Her eyes fluttered closed, mouth dropped open as his warm hand wrapped itself around her neck, fingertip resting over her pulsepoint; Tatum was sure if Jake pressed a little harder he could feel her pulse pounding like a hammer.

“Does my girl like that, huh?”

Tatum’s eyes snapped open, jaw clenched as she fought up the building pressure low in her belly. She locked her thighs around his hips, swiftly flipping them over. She looked down to see Jake looking up at her with a vaguely shocked expression. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand was across his face with a loud slap. 

“The fuck did I tell you?” Tatum braced her hands on his chest, rocking her hips back and forth, matching his harsh pace. She smacked him again, leaning forward so most of his cock slid out of her. She smashed her mouth against his, shoving her tongue into his mouth. 

She moaned into his mouth as his hands gripped her hips so hard she knew she’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips tomorrow. She let him slam her hips back down onto him, thrusting his hips up to meet her grinding down on him. The way his pubic bone rubbed against her clit had the warm feeling growing in her belly, a coil on the verge of snapping. Tatum dug her teeth into Jake's bottom lip as she rode him hard until finally she felt that coil snap, a keening moan swallowed by Jake’s mouth. Her legs shuddered as Jake’s thrusts became more and more erratic until she felt him lift her off him, fisting his cock until he came over his stomach. 

Tatum knelt, panting on the bed as she felt her heart rate go back to normal. She felt a hand on her thigh, looking down at Jake still lounged before her, sprawled on her bed. She narrowed her eyes, cocking her head to the side.

“This is a one time thing.”

There it was again, that shit eating grin. “That’s what you say now.” His hand trailed higher on her thigh.

“No one would ever believe you anyway.”

[secrets-of-everwich]

13-1 Callie’s Final Statement, and Final Thoughts

[Click]

[Electronic hum underlies recording]

{Callie}

Hello, and welcome to this – final – secret of Everwich. Just like every other episode, my name is Callie Hewitt, recording on the 27th October 2021. This will be the last official episode, though I may do a reading of Charles’ journal. I’ve been through all the other statements, and I think I’ve managed to gather a semi-conclusive map of the last month or so.

Let’s begin.

As you know, I began this podcast on the 27th September. Unintentionally, exactly a month ago. However, my personal interest in Everwich began years ago, when I was small. I’ve already said I live in Everwich Manor, where all this weird stuff started. My parents decided to turn it into a tourist attraction to bring in some money, so I grew up helping out with the tours. I found it fascinating. But my fascination for the Florences, and therefore the secrets that Everwich holds began when I found a secret compartment in my bookshelves.

I think I mentioned before that I live in the same room that Charles Florence lived in. Some of the furniture is the same, in surprisingly good condition, the bookshelf being one of them. I was clearing out the old books to put some of my own in, and I found a loose board. I was only about 10, so I tried to pull it out. It was a bit like a puzzle box, I had to press in the correct area to get it to come out. But what I found was another book.

‘The Arachnid: A Philosophical Study by Charles Florence’

I’m a big spider fan – they’re so cute! – So I decided to have a read. I would have then gone on to find more information about it, but I got ill pretty soon after. However, the ‘study’ ended up not just being a journal of information, it ended up being a journal of Charles’ feelings. I know, it probably wasn’t good to read someone else’s private journal, but it did help me feel less alone. Like, even though 200 years separated us, we were friends… He was going through the same feelings I was, so…

It's probably stupid, though. Anyway, when I got a bit better, I started looking for all the information I could. Eventually, in September, I found a tape recorder, and thought it would be fun to talk through my discoveries. Essays are very hard to hand write for me, so I thought if I talked through everything, I could type it up later.

And that brings us up to now… I promise, I didn’t know everything. I really didn’t know there were caves under the house, or that something was wrong with Emilia. But… I thought that if I revealed that I had the journal, something bad might happen… And I guess I was right, because Xavier- Or something made Xavier steal Adam’s journal. I don’t want that to happen to Charles’. It’s a really special find.

So, onto the last month. Me starting the podcast seemed to happen at around the same time as Xavier getting- possessed? Is that the right word? By that spider. Xavier found the key, and went down into the basement, only to have a spider crawl on it, and get possessed by the parasite. Meanwhile, I was locking myself up in my room, talking into this.

On the 1st October, Emilia also got possessed, because a spider made its way into her house. This begs the question, how far do the spiders go? But I have a theory. The spiders seem to call the basement of Everwich Manor their home, and I presume they travel through the caves. I checked the photos I took, there were little holes in the ceiling. Big enough for the spiders. I think the caves were their burrow, where they got into people’s houses. I also checked the map. Assuming Jill Harris and ‘Harvey’ live on Lilacs Lane, where Jill got attacked, then all 4 of these people who we know for definite have been possessed by the parasite live on top of the cave tunnels – Xavier in Everwich Manor, right on top of their home, Jill and Harvey on Lilacs Lane, and Emilia on North Street. I’ll get back to the caves later.

A day or so later, Rin, Ash, X and Emilia all went to Everwich Manor, and X showed Ash the spiders. I think… I think whatever was using X’s body at the time was trying to possess Ash too. Don’t worry, I double-checked, Ash is A-okay in terms of spidery-ness. Considering they had the most accurate statement in terms of the spiders being present, and tried to stop everyone being possessed, I think he’s good anyway. Whatever it was, it didn’t work, probably because Ash ended up having an argument with X, and stormed off. It's lucky, really… I think if Ash had been possessed too, none of them would have survived this last month…

Throughout the following week, Emilia was working on some kind of experiment, something she has no idea about. As you know if you listened to the last episode, Emilia doesn’t remember anything, and she seemed really genuine about being sorry about that. I genuinely don’t know what that was about, there’s nothing in Adam or Charles’ journals that say about someone making some kind of chemical formula. This is new. So, I guess I’ll move onto the next major event.

We’ve heard a lot about the events of 11th October, when Rin, Ash and X discovered Emilia was possessed, and tried to get her to no longer be possessed. Somehow, though, the spider escaped, and went straight back to her when she was asleep. She says there might have been a person. There’s a tall figure that keeps coming up, but everyone is insistent that it’s not Xavier. I’d say it was the Everwich Ghost, but the Everwich Ghost is a short, 12 year old boy, so… I’m really confused about that, to be honest. But it’s weird… If it were just Asher spotting a random figure that could be explained by Ash thinking someone was the Everwich Ghost when they’re just a normal person, but considering Emilia saw a figure that didn’t sound like ‘anyone she knows’, X saw a ‘tall figure’…

OH, how could I forget?! I’ve seen a tall figure too! When I was in the graveyard. It’s weird… I’m not going to go looking for them, though. That’d be an easy way to get killed, disappear, or get possessed. I’m dropping this investigation. Genuinely.

The next few weeks are a few sightings of this figure, and me getting obsessed with the caves. I worked it out, I was in there for nearly 24 hours. It… It didn’t feel like 24 hours… And nobody noticed… But that was partially because Emilia and Xavier were very much possessed, and so Ash and Rin were distracted… And I’m sure – almost positive – the caves changed layout when I was in there. I walked around the same corridor at least 10 times. It’s a maze on the map, but not that much. But that night, while I was in the caves, Emilia became lucid and tried to kill the spider, injuring herself in the process. She’s okay now, as we have confirmed. I’m not sure what changed, to be honest. But something did, and I’m glad it did.

From there onwards, I’ve got a lot of conclusive statements about what happened.

So… I guess that concludes the Secrets of Everwich. I’m really not going to make another episode, with the exception of an episode reading out Charles’ journal. I think you, dear listener, whoever you are, deserve it.

Goodbye, and  thank you for listening to these Secrets of Everwich. I hope you enjoyed.

[Click]

[Click]

[Radio static]

{Voice}

I’m- -orry… G-dby-.

[Click]

[perfectarmony]

Unless Nadia is going to be TCL's big bad in S3, I've seen enough of her this season. She's taking up too much screen time. What do you think? Tx.

Hey Anon, and sorry for the delay!

I also have been wondering about Nadia's future in s3 for a while now 👀 and the truth is - I haven't come up with a definitive answer.

Despite knowing that Eva was working on a new project since a little before TCL stopped filming, my heart dropped when I saw Deadline's tweet announcing that she had a new role. I immediately gasped, and freaked myself out before even reading the headline properly - long story short, it's a movie that has no impact on TCL, and I don't think they would kill Nadia just now.

Anyway, I like her as a character on her own - so I wouldn't mind watching her thrive with La Habana and Fast Lane.

What I would want to see in that case though is her - not her relationship to Kamdar or Arman - but really her as Nadia. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I guess the love triangle might be why you're getting tired of her?

If they go down that route - kill Kamdar and let her take over his empire - they would still have to keep her story tied to Arman and Thony's business in some way. So unless they work with/for her and becomes their ''bank'', or she is indeed pregnant (do not freak out, it most likely won't happen but since it's still a possibly, I have to put it here), the big bad theory could also make sense!

She surely would make an interesting villain, but what I can't wrap my head around is : how do we get there? I can't picture her putting Arman or Thony in danger on purpose, so what could change?

Too much power?

Will she realize that Arman just used her to get rid of Kamdar, and that's her last straw? She's now willing to help, but still doesn't know that the FBI is involved, that Arman only charmed her to get the key card, and I'm not sure she'll take it well when she realizes that he more or less used her...

Or she loses everything after all when Kamdar dies and feels betrayed because Arman didn't mention Garrett? I mean how is the FBI supposed to just close their eyes when she takes over?

And of course, what would then make Arman turn on her?

Honestly anon, I don't know how the season is going to end for Nadia - but I'm pretty sure she'll agree with Thony's plan, and will work with her in the 2 hour finale. I can't see her going to prison either because someone else already has that privilege 🤧 so right now, I guess I'll just let the show surprise me 😏

[battyshopkeeper]

Never Grew up

“Being Bruce's childhood friend has always been painful.”

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

Word Count: 1034

Contains / Warnings:  Angst/No comfort, Established friendship, also didn't notice how homoerotic I made detective stuff sound.

Bruce had invited you to his hideout after asking for some classified files you had access to, something he rarely did but his new mission called for all hands on deck and that included you, someone he knew to be outside of Gotham's corruption.

With that you were happily spending the entire day with him, helping him with deciphering codes, bouncing theories between each other as you both naturally slipped into a comfortable yet quick rhythm. Turning out results that would've made anyone say you were made to work with each other.

Even then you were able to crack a few jokes much to Bruce's deadpan face but that just made you even more determined to make him smile while still focusing on the job. It wasn't until you finally made the most painfully unfunny joke in your life that Bruce finally let out an auditable chuckle.

"Oh my God, that's what made you laugh- Out of everything? Your sense of humor is so broken." You looked up from your papers in disbelief as his face slipped back to it's usually expression, "That was a pity laugh."

"Bruce doesn't do pity laughs! Who are you, imposter?" You tease while poking him with a pen, the tips of his mouth tugging up. "I got specific taste in my comedy, I'll admit."

"I mean it was bad when we were kids but it must've deteriorated as you got older-" You stated before exchange the files you've been working on, looking over at each others work in silence, the room now being filled with the noise of papers being flipped and the scribbles of pens.

Your words still lingered in his mind, leading to a walk through memory lane. Memories of you playing as kids unknowing of the grim future that bled into teenagehood, it was at that time that he lost what little friends he had, yet you were the only one that stayed. Fighting to be by his side when everyone would have given up. He always hated remembering that time- all the horrible things he said in an attempt to push you away.

You noticed the taller man slowing down, soon setting his pen down making you nervously look around, before you could ask what was wrong he spoke up.

"You've been here... with me for a long time, haven't you?"

You anxiously placed the files down, all you attention on him now "Of course... You can't rid of someone like me easily. I stick around much to everyone's surprise." You gesture at yourself, before you could ramble on he interrupts you.

"Why?"

Was all he asked yet you could feel the weight of that simple question with his tone. You paused with furrowed brows "Uh well... I care for you and that's not something I feel often about others. We've been through hell- I guess we're both a couple of broken people stuck together by chance." He says quiet while looking down at you, taking a step closer as he whispers softly "You don't have to stay then. I don't want you to gain hope for someone like me, especially if it'll hurt you." "Hurt me? Oh Bruce- I knew exactly what I was signing up for when I started hanging around you." You let out a bittersweet laugh before it quickly died at the sight of his face in it's usual melancholy.

"There might be a day that you lose me." He states.

"I had that fear before, the closest I've felt was when you started isolated yourself. I felt that fear so intensely. But I'm happy I did because at that moment I decided you were worth keeping in my life." You glance up at him noticing his eyes trailing down your face only to fixate on your lips "I want you here with me...In someway."

"You're too good for me."

There was a moment of silence, the air almost becoming suffocating as you just stood still. Years of tension like this never made it any easier, underlying feelings always becoming clear as they came to the surface for a brief moment. Even then both of you never brought it up, almost like an unspoken rule. These moments where meant to be hidden, a secret between you both that just built up the longer you stood by his side.

He leaned forward making your breath hitched, lips so close yet never touching. You looked up at him with pleading eyes for a kiss, a kiss that would finally break years of meaningful stares, like a proper confession. But it didn't come as he turned his head, pulling away while you let out a shaky sigh.

"I know what I just said but...I can't do this. Not like this." You break the silence as Bruce glances at you before his eyes lock onto a wall, avoiding your gaze. You walk up to him, pulling him closer by his forearm as a desperate attempt to get his attention.

"We can't keep doing this, we can't keep talking like it's normal when we look at each other like that- when we almost kiss!" You scoff at him before raising your voice again when he doesn't respond, "At least acknowledge it!"

"You're the one that wanted to stay. I didn't ask you to."

You grow more frustrated by the second while he goes back to continuing his silence, not even bothering to look at you. You could feel yourself tearing up much to your embarrassment as your voiced trembled.

"Bruce, what even are we?"

"Just friends."

Was all he said, those two words hitting you like a bullet as you couldn't help but freeze, it took a while before you slowly started nodding in bitter acceptance, "Is that what you really want?"

"It's what I need." He states.

That was all you needed to hear, turning around before making your way to the elevator door hastily.

"Then fucking act like it." You slam the vintage gate, the noise echoing across the cave as Bruce stayed still. Fighting every urge in his body to run after you. A memory of your teenage self doing the same thing crossed his mind.

Almost as quick he had a bitter realization.

'We never grew up, did we?'

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls: Season 1/Episode 6 ("Rory's Birthday Parties")

This is the only proper way to watch Gilmore Girls.

A win in the "continuity" column: if you fast forward to season 5, her birth day is the same.

(a mugshot would say "Lorelai Gilmore" not "Rory", but I digress). Another interesting bit of continuity: Rory and I were both born in 1984. I was born in February, she was born in October, but she graduated high school in 2003, while I graduated in 2002. So it would seem apparent that her October birthdate had her miss the "cut off" for kindergarten (she hadn't turned 5 yet when other kids born earlier the same year were going into kindergarten, and in the US, you typically have to be 5 to start kindergarten). Idk these are just the kind of things I love to think about even if no one else does. It also leads me to a theory about Jess' birthdate but I think its too confusing to explain lol

I can't think of anything LESS Rory than a plastic light up neon bracelet. I'm actually at a loss to think of any character in the entire show who'd wear something like this. Maybe Madelyn and Louise, lol.

A list of the men (and it's only men) on Gilmore Girls who have run away to California: Jess, Dave Rygalski, Max Medina, Christopher. Was this Amy Sherman Palladino's favorite plot device for male characters? Not even New York, which is a lot closer? Like they have to run far, far, away, as far away as possible while not leaving the country? It's very mysterious. Like there's a swirling vortex out in California sucking them all in. Somewhere in the distant year 2003, Jess and Dave Rygalski find each other again in California and become best bros. In my heart I firmly believe it. "Christopher calls once a week (I doubt it) and we see him at Christmas and Easter (maybe). "

Fuck me sideways, this is so gross. Rory tells Paris they can both attend Harvard, because it's a big school and they'll never run into each other. If they do see each other, they'll duck. They then proceed to not only attend the same college and work on the school paper together, but live together the entire time. They both sound sad at the prospect of not seeing each other after high school. My favorite Married Couple!

Now Paris is asking Rory if Diet Logan is available. Not a day after Paris witnessed him sexually harassing Rory at her birthday party, her immediate thought is "I want that for myself"?" Ick, ick, ick!

Fuck me sideways, I love late 90's/ early 2000's shit! I love being a Millennial and recognizing shit I grew up with! I love that I was the same age as Rory when this show was made! This, my friends is an ancient Apple computer called an I-Book! I'm giddy! Honestly it seems a bit sad that Rory has no friends besides Lane and eventually Paris (until they try to shoe horn in those other two girls, Lucy and the other one, at Yale near the end, which felt very forced) and both of her parties are attended by nothing but grown ass adults. I mean, there's nothing wrong with having only two close friends (and it's only one friend currently, who seems to have been her only friend her entire life). Quality over quantity right? Having only one friend her own age for most of her life while the rest of her social circle consists of her mother and grown adults who constantly tell this very ordinary girl that she's so special and perfect and can do no wrong and treat her like a princess. This will definitely not have any impact on Rory Gilmore's psyche anywhere down the line. No siree, Bob...

I mean, maybe it's not entirely her fault. Rory, Dean, Lane, and Lindsay are the only teenagers (or even CHILDREN) who seem to exist in Stars Hollow and the times that we see a SH classroom, the students look 35. I remember somebody saying "I don't think Amy Sherman Palladino has actually seen a child before."

Wow, that cake...sure is something.

Michel using a phone to avoid socializing at a party years before it was fashionable. The party hat is the icing on the Rory-Face-Cake! A true icon.

Edward Herrmann barely cleared this doorway.

I stand corrected. Ladies and gentlemen, here are some random ass 35 year old teenagers and one random old man who were kind enough to come to Rory's party. Go introduce yourself Rory. They look so friendly.

Did we ever hear Miss Patty's full name again? This is interesting.

Okay Miss Lacosta, go take a cold shower or something, you need to chill. Bad enough you were hitting on Kirk.

The iceman cometh. Emily: I could see the way he (Luke) looked at you. Like you were going to give him a lapdance. You're pleased that the ice man looked at you like a porterhouse steak! Okay, ALL the old ladies need to chill for a bit.

OMG! IT'S "THE" BRACELET! The one Jess took! Dean just strung a quarter through a piece of leather and called it a "medallion." This fucking clown. "I bought the medallion and I cut some leather straps and drilled a hole in it." Yawn. Who the fuck cares. Lorelai "tore up the entire town" and yelled at Jess, and Rory "had a heart attack" looking for this fucking quarter on a string. Rory: "It's beautiful. It's amazing." Yawn. It's certainly no "I wrote in the margins for you." Every "crime" Jess Mariano has ever committed was in some way justified. Stealing change from Taylor Doose? Not guilty. "Stealing" a quarter on a string that Dean made? Not guilty.

Lorelai is thinking "Hey, that's MY boyfriend!" The Good: Lorelai and Emily going shopping together. Randy old ladies. Michel being anti social. Dean doesn't show up until the last two minutes. Dean's stupid bracelet made me laugh so it's going into both the bad and good columns. The Bad: Diet Logan sexually harrasses Rory and Paris gets jealous. Forrester and his fucking moronic stupid gifts. Rory has no friends her own age. The New: Stupid fucking quarter on a string bracelet is seen for the first time. We learn Rory's birthdate and Miss Patty's full name. Deliciously Nostalgic References & Sightings: Old school Apple I-Book computer.

[dramaphan]

pls, tell the car story - 🐸

Buckle up, it’s a long one!!

Let me set the scene for you. It’s my night off. I have slept all afternoon and evening, and woken up at somewhere around midnight, and I am starving. However, I live in a small town in the middle of piss off nowhere, and nothing is open past 10pm except for one timmies that doesn’t sell food overnight. So I decide to hop a few towns over to the nearest 24 hour McDonald’s and get myself a mcchicken and some waffle fries.

It’s also worth mentioning here that my car has a push button start, not a traditional key. So I hop in the car, chuck my keys in the cup holder, and off I go.

I’m now on the highway, cruising along at a slick 120, and I happen to notice that there’s a bunch of garbage in my cup holder I should get rid of. Papery shit like receipts and straw wrappers and whatnot. Biodegradable. So I decide to be a little naughty and litter just this one time. It’s only paper! It’s fine! So I reach into my cup holder and grab a big fistful of shit and toss it right out the window.

It is at this point that I hear something fairly heavy hit the ground and jingle off into the distance. It is at this moment I realize I have fucked up.

Now, this is a divided highway, so I can’t just turn around, or I’d be driving into oncoming traffic. Not that there’s really anybody else around at 12:30am but still, I don’t wanna get the cops called on me. Apparently my car will still drive without the keys, which is good to know, but I can only assume that if I turn off the engine for any reason, I’ll be fucked.

So at this point I make a bit of a reckless decision. My keys are somewhere behind me, maybe in the middle of the highway, maybe in the ditch somewhere, who knows! Not me!! And I have no option but to go fuckin find them, because I cannot call anyone at this hour of the night and admit to being the most braindead man alive. So I throw my little Honda in reverse, and start backing up down the goddamn highway, occasionally pulling over whenever another car would come by. My theory here was that I would eventually go past my keys again, and I’d be able to see them in my headlights.

So I reverse to a point where I think I must be getting close, and I hop my little ass out of the car, and start walking. Nothin but my iPhone flashlight and 10% battery to guide me. I abandon my running car on the side of the road, and I spend roughly 30 minutes stumbling in and out of the ditch, all over 3 lanes of highway, up and down the same stretch of road a million times. It’s well after 1am by this point, and I’m ready to give up my search. I feel like I’ve gone too far, I’m cold as hell, so I give up, and start heading back to my car, which I guess I’ll have to sleep in now since my apartment keys are also long gone.

It’s during this walk of shame that another car goes past me, and in their headlights, I see a flash of something shiny in the Center lane. It cannot be anything else. What else could it be!! So I dash out into the middle of the highway, and sure enough, my keys are right there waiting for me, barely a scratch on em.

Realistically I should have wrote off the whole night, but I did in fact still go get my mcchicken, because I think I had fucking earned it

And to right my wrongs, I even picked all my stupid garbage back up. Don’t litter, kids. Not even if it’s just paper!!

[jcmorrigan]

NOPE. I’M BRINGING THIS INTO THE FANDOM TAGS BECAUSE I HAVE REWATCHED STUFF AND I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS.

I’ve seen the “Victor is Chaser” theory multiple places, and I’m not sure exactly where it came from or what evidence it has. Maybe it’s already been proven canon and we’re just waiting on confirmation.

But I’m starting to think something different.

The two scenes I went back to were when Chaser informs M that Vanora has awakened, and where M asks Chaser about what it would take for them to stop loving someone. And there are some...very odd statements here if it is Victor.

Chaser tells M that they heard Vanora was alive from “a reliable source.” Really? Because Victor was THERE when she turned up. He by that time had welcomed her into the house. If he’s playing double agent, I can see why he’d want to cover his tracks, but still...it’s weird. Especially since the email sent to M indicates that they’re looking for something “on her” (which now likely has to do with her memory power). Victor had such an easy opening to just...bring her in, if he were working this.

But then there’s the question of what it would take for Chaser to stop loving someone. M asks Chaser if they have someone they love, and Chaser replies by deflecting the question and calling it stupid. Then giving answers that indicate, yes, there is SOMEBODY. I feel like at this point everybody at Myers knows that Victor and Vincent are a nigh inseparable duo. Why would M ask Victor that question when he KNOWS the answer is yes? And why would Victor deflect when he knows M knows?

There are tons of possibilities here. Maybe it is Victor and he’s really trying to cover his tracks. Maybe it’s Draco, who was there at the time. Zalmona? Maybe! Can’t rule it out! Claude? We know nothing about him, so might as well be!

But...I’m starting to get a feeling. And this might be my bias toward a certain character. Hoping against hope. This is either going to be spot-on or the most laughably wrong theory you’ll hear in this fandom ever.

As of chapter 4...there was an Easter Egg that kinda just got brushed off. But I don’t think we should have. Because...this might literally be a photo of M with his Chaser:

Look. I didn’t think Albert was going to show up here at all. I thought he was just going to stay contained to TWDAK, and that’s the biggest thing holding me back - there’s no Easter Egg for using his name as Vanora’s alias, so I’d thought that was a confirmation that for all intents and purposes, he doesn’t exist here except as worldbuilding.

Until Chapter 4 referenced him three times. Once in that image. Once in an RMU flashback when Victor asks Vincent if Albert pissed him off again. And once when Victor and Vincent went on their date and one of their prominent conversation topics was making fun of Albert and his FISH FACTS.

And again. This could just be me wanting my murder dork to show up. It could just be a series of elaborate cameos for the Albert crowd. But if he is Chaser...well, let’s take a look at those two conversations again.

Chaser heard “from a reliable source” that Vanora was on the move? TWDAK ends with Albert calling Vincent to basically ask what’s up. If Vincent didn’t know Albert was involved with Myers somehow, he could’ve said something to the effect of “I’m dealing with an amnesiac woman, and promise not to tell, but I trust you with this...”

Chaser was asked if they loved someone. Chaser deflected the question, called it silly. Albert claimed over and over again he wanted nothing to do with Vincent until Taylor called him out as a liar on that fact. In any case, Vincent certainly doesn’t seem interested in him anymore. He’s with Victor now.

Chaser was asked: if that someone’s body were destroyed, would you still love them? Vincent’s body was in fact destroyed, so this implies Chaser has some connection to Vincent.

But then...M asks what about the loved one’s memory. And he doesn’t just say total amnesia. He says if the loved one forgot about all your time together.

What we know about Albert is that he went to the graduation party that Vincent and Victor skipped out on. He was fixated enough on Vincent to draw him several years later, and Vincent never showed up to that last party to bid him goodbye. Not even to insult him. We know he did maintain this fixation. Vincent...basically forgot about him.

M asks: if the loved one’s body was beyond repair and they forgot about your time together, would you still love them?

In other words: your Vincent is not only a cyborg now, but he doesn’t care about you anymore. So don’t bother going back to him.

There are a couple other things that stand out to me, though. All this time, M has been the CEO of Myers. Victor and Vincent were his underlings. Albert was the CEO of an entirely different corporation. It’s more likely for Albert to have met M on his level - at social functions, etc. - than either Victor or Vincent, which at the very least explains the heck out of the photo.

M was also working on not only cyborgs, but the ability to read people’s thoughts and memories. He acquired Voorhees because he needed the bioengineering tech to make the cyborgs. But I wonder. Was Voorhees also a specialist in the neuroscience Myers needed? All they ever mentioned was bioengineering. You know what corporation did in fact do some groundbreaking things with neuroscience? Krueger. Because Albert figured out how to get into people’s dreams and make them question reality. It seems very possible to me that Myers also reached out to Krueger to network and borrowed some of Albert’s advancements in that field to create entities like Vanora.

And going back to the photo - we have M being all smiles while Albert appears to be dead inside. Chaser, to me, seems very...oddly subservient to M. He’s almost afraid to answer some of the questions honestly. That’s...kinda the dynamic I’m seeing in that photo. The overboss, and the guy who has to like him or else. Remember that back at RMU, Albert was usually the ridiculous one and Vincent the one who was just absolutely done with his shenanigans. And here, he’s...sullen. Exasperated. It could be a friendly teasing thing, but it really doesn’t seem like the persona he presented when talking about how he would consistently best Vincent.

I wonder: were we basically led to believe Albert would stay in his lane and his own game so that we wouldn’t suspect him as the identity of an anonymous character?

Finally, this isn’t evidence per se, but TWDAK ends with Albert finally figuring out how to send emails, and VTSOM begins with Chaser sending an email. Hilarious if true because M would be like “Huh. I didn’t know he could do that.” but also is this poetic symbolism?

I’d jokingly said to a fellow fan “Well, maybe if Victor and Vincent had invited him on their date, he wouldn’t be taking selfies with their mortal enemy.” But...what if that’s the entire point? His favorite person abandoned him on the last night they could’ve seen each other, and if he considered Victor a friend, Victor skipped out on him too. Maybe Vincent’s not the only person looking for revenge in this saga.

[dastardlydandelion]

my thoughts on fear street 1666 now that i finished scrubbing all the toilets, got to go home and watch it

holy shit. that movie. wow. 

it wasn’t as fun as the other two. didn’t employ the same campy tropes. didn’t present itself in a flourish of period typical style. while i enjoyed the first two films paying homage to classic horror tropes and making the most of the stylish side of their respective environments, i am v grateful and relieved that 1666 *wasn’t* as fun as the other two and actually presented the horror of puritan fanaticism and witch accusations more srsly. imo it portrayed that grave, twisting dread that the subject matter calls for. i appreciate that bc i think i would’ve been uncomfortable if they attempted to do smth more campy with the time period given what we already knew abt the circumstances of sarah’s death even before the film. 

more of me blathering on and on abt fear street 1666 under the cut: 

the twist actually worked on me this time. they actually got me on this one, u guys. i rly watched this franchise believing sarah fier was possessing ppl and wreaking her vengeance on the town, but this whole time it was the fuckin’ goodes. nick, i never liked u, i think ur more interesting than i did before before when u were a generic as generic gets asshole, so now ur somewhat more interesting but even bigger of an asshole than i gave u credit for. ur literally the worst asshole of assholes, ur a walking infected hemorrhoidal rectum of a human being. 

don’t get me wrong, i always thought sarah was going to be portrayed sympathetically. i never doubted that. my theory was that sarah was going to be a sympathetic villain. i thought 1666 would’ve revealed why she cursed shadyside. i figured she would’ve cursed her townsfolk for turning their backs on her, maybe, or hurting/killing hannah, or using her for her witchcraft and then getting angry if it backfired on them, or smth like that. i thought we were going to watch a story abt sarah’s descent into darkness and while she’d defo be a tragic villain, she rly would be the person behind the possessions...but it wasn’t even her. she and hannah were just vulnerable to the town’s suspicion and persecution bc they were queer women who didn’t behave the way society wanted them to behave. and they were blamed for evil actually wrought by heterosexual men in power, and when sarah realized there was no way out of it, she took the blame upon herself so hannah was spared and she cursed only the goode family?? 

THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER. FUCK. THAT IS SUCH A BETTER STORY. kudos to this trilogy for being more intelligent than it ever had to be, when it could’ve just skated on the notoriety of the fear street series, the style, and billing notable cast members. 

so yeh, i defo 100% appreciated the goode men from wealthy sunnyvale being revealed as the true villains. i actually got my wish of nick getting killed in the face. i love that sarah possessed deena to do it herself!!! and deena!! oh man, i love deena so much. she was wearing a homebrew vest to protect herself made of fear street novels + duct tape, u gotta love it. ig she wanted to prepare herself since sam stabbed her at the end of 1994. on that note, she’s v active in this film for someone who has a fresh abdominal stab wound and i mean, the situation defo calls for it, but i hope she remembered to properly dress it and take a couple ibuprofen or smth. shit, i’m gettin distracted again. okay!! 

i loved errything that went down in the mall. i adore that josh and adult ziggy got more time to shine. i was so! so! happy at martin’s inclusion on the action. he deserved that after the way nick treated him in 1994. our occupations are also p similar so i defo relate to martin on that front. i loved it all the neon and blacklight stuff at the mall. that part was v stylish, that was p cool. spraying the killers with the blood so they kill each other!! yes! that was perfect!! it was incredibly practical and enjoyable for me, as a gore fan, to watch. 

i liked the sticky note on the wall at the end from deena and josh’s dad, that he had a job interview. i wonder if this is bc the curse of shadyside has been lifted with the end of the goodes?? 

yk, i feel like now knowing what we know abt the actual evil, i gotta wonder how much re-watch value there is to be gleaned from this trilogy. for example, in 1978, nick liked ziggy and didn’t want her to die. he performed cpr on her even tho she’d been stabbed a fuck ton of times and tbvh, the chances of success of resuscitation depending on what exactly it is was ziggy succumbed to seem v slim. at first i attributed this to a suspension of disbelief bc this is fiction (and to be fair crazy do happen sometimes irl, ykw, sometimes reality can surprise u) BUT now i’m sittin here like...was the cpr successful bc nick’s deal with the devil gave him the power to do that?? did his bargaining of others’ souls and offering them up for possession grant him the ability to have some control in that situation somehow? at least more than a normal human being should?? idk. it’s a thought. 

what else, what else? 

i feel like outta the three, 1666 had the most tension overall. i was p gosh darn emo abt the relationships. deena and sam’s relationship i’ve cared abt since the beginning but the contrast of them getting the opportunity to have it and be together, in parallel to the way sarah and hannah’s ended just moves u. or, it moved me at least. sarah tells hannah they’ll go somewhere and kiss in broad daylight before kissing her in almost total darkness, and then the film ends on deena and sam kissing in the sun. i was also glad deena and josh’s sibling relationship got touched on a lil bit more. thought it was cute that she tried to cook for him and produced smth that just dead ass looks inedible. i also thought it was sweet that ziggy reunited with nurse lane. she can do that now, she can leave her house without fearing the return of the curse, and she deserves it. <3

i’m impressed with the trilogy overall. each movie easily could’ve been an r-rated goosebumps episode and imo all were certainly better than that. i feel like each film was better than the previous, but personally enjoyed each one. some things were p predictable but i think much of that is intentional. 1994 and 1978 were clearly paying homage to classic slashers and familiar horror tropes. i personally didn’t find the predictability off-putting bc i recognized what they were trying to do, and felt the quality in the other elements made up for it. i was genuinely shocked by the actual villain reveal, i personally didn’t predict that. again, i always thought sarah was going to be sympathetic and i never liked nick at all, but i didn’t suspect sarah was just. dead ass *not* going to be a villain or that he was going to be the big bad. 

really dug the style of these films. loved that we got an interracial lesbian couple who made it thru the trilogy without either the predatory lesbian trope or the byg trope happening. i liked most of the characters we got to know and the only character who *rly* grated on my nerves was the villain who got stabbed in the eye. 

gosh, i want more fear street movies!! if i had to pick one outta any of the slashers featured, i’d want to see ruby lane’s story. i would like to see this production team milking the most outta the environment in the 50s, the style of the 50s, music, and whatnot. i enjoyed nurse lane even tho she was super bad at murder, so it’d be cool to see her again and who she was before her daughter got possessed and killed 7 ppl. also, ruby sings when she kills?? 

that’s weird and creepy and neat. totally down for it. 

[dotthings]

The gaslighting needs to stop. Systemic power imbalanced in the tv industry are real. Network interference is real. Erasure and unkindness towards marginalized characters is real. 

I’m more on the canon analysis end of things personally, but I assure you the fans trying to figure out WTF happened here and account for stuff that objectively, even the people more skeptical acknowledge is weird and points back towards network interference, try to debunk their own theories. They are telling you that, they are transparent about their information, if you don’t feel like playing detailed murder wall, then don’t, but to deny there is a very very real power imbalance behind the scenes that hurt marginalized characters and fans, and hurt the story, is toxic. Stop it. 

Things like the Spanish dub and people who have worked on the show coming out of the woodwork to support Destiel should be a clue. Latin America believes it’s a mutually requited love story, canon confirmed from both sides, because that is what aired on a big tv network there. And watch out for that US-centric thinking that somehow thinks this doesn’t count. (Also plot twist: the US is the restrictive market. Wake up).

My wheelhouse is more canon analysis so I’m going to say now that the gaslighting about canon, about aired canon, about confirmed canon, about implied canon, seems to me a whole lot of toxic detached-from-reality hand waving so hard to still, STILL!!--try to deny the validity of Destiel. I’m glad some of y’all think this is merely hilarious, and after not showing up and not being supportive and not sticking your neck out at all to protect Destiel shippers from bullying, you came back just to eat the popcorn because it amuses you and I’m supposed to think that’s pro-Destiel supportive or something, or it’s people who have no horse in the race who just want fandom entertainment so everything’s a joke while they reinforce the exact attitudes that let this kind of systemic oppression perpetuate and get away with erasing marginalized voices in the tv industry, in fandom, in stories. Nice work, people. Your holier-than-thou attitude is real convincing. 

Then there’s the people trying to convince everyone it’s convincing to play false equivalency cha-cha and as if people only see this as canon due to a) 1 slash joke b) they stared at each other that one time c) drapes. Because old school fans are so proud that in their day, nobody wanted their queer ships to be canon and Destiel is just like *insert whatever slash ship of the past that had about 1/10th of the loud textual material and canon development Destiel has*. You want to try to argue against the epic nature of the text on Dean and Cas, hey give it your all, but it’s not going to hold up. If I started listing off the immensity, things that are textual plot points, it would be a 3,000 word essay. Stop playing false equivalency. Stop trying to artificially yank this back into the past because you can’t handle the textual validity of Destiel.

Deal with the fact that this is not an easily classifiable situation.

Even if in the end the same old systemic crap stifled its full due, and that’s the part that is tiresome, Dean and Cas deserve better than have their actual canon content demeaned.

After the story we have seen. After 12 seasons of deep-dive development. After Cas was finally openly confirmed as queer, and in love with Dean, in the final season, 2 episodes from the end, and Misha echoed it, and from Dean’s side, because full confirmation on Dean’s side is being held down, Jensen protected a romantic reading, protected people’s right to see Dean as in love with Cas not having a chance to speak his heart. Protected the right to that reading within the ambiguity that he knows is as far as the canon was able to take it. After the ship became canon confirmed as at least unrequited love story. Whether Jensen ships it or not, he has been very loudly and openly protective of fan readings and has been very openly excited about 15.18 and the handprint, he knows this is a great story and he’s been openly excited about how excited and joyful fans were about that episode. 

But what we have seen on our screens, what the story told us, transcends the muzzles placed on it. What we have seen is a mutually requited love story. We already saw in action how Dean loves Cas. We are left with, in the end, the silencing of Dean Winchester. Gosh I wonder why the silencing of Dean Winchester. Why was it necessary. Why was he not even permitted to speak at all, to anyone, to confide about how he even felt about Cas’s love confession. Why did Jensen have to do the heavy lifting to meta it for us. Why did Cas have to be left fully out of the series finale on a show he was so key on for 12 seasons, as a 3rd lead. Why is that? Because the only thing the creative team would ever be allowed to do by corporate is friendzone it and they didn’t want to friendzone it. 

So we are cursed with ambiguity from Dean’s side. And if the series finale had done better by Dean’s story, including his death, and by Cas’s story (instead of shoving him out of sight), if it hadn’t erased Eileen and Saileen, if it hadn’t failed Sam’s story, if it hadn’t been a regressive, awkward mess, most shippers would have accepted ambiguity if Dean and Cas has been given at least the respect of a reunion, if Dean had at least been given the chance to partially speak even if it couldn’t be removed from ambiguity. But the system was too scared of it. It had to be held down and muffled hard.

It was yanked out of the story artificially in ways that don’t match Destiel’s narrative importance before the series finale and don’t match 12 seasons of storytelling. It’s artificial. It is a silencing. And it shows. 

That sudden silence was a scream.

"The writers” were for it. “The writers” wanted to tell that story even if network interference prevented it. Some of us were gaslighted and smeared and bashed just for pointing it out, and we turned out to be right.

DESTIEL IS CANON. And the parts where fans still have to rely on interpretation for have ample, AMPLE, story evidence and external evidence--that has nothing to do with deeper dive murder walls, it has to do with support shown, and confirmed information--all point to a mutually reciprocated love story.

How many more times do shippers have to be proven right before people stop this. I was bullied for several seasons just for saying Destiel was a purposefully crafted a valid textual reading, by my own lane. For asserting it was a love story designed to dodge under network radar. I was bullied for years before that by antis, who didn’t like seeing people love this ship too much, who didn’t like that I refused to get down on my knees and label myself as delusional just for seeing it, for refusing to bow down and say “it’s only about 2 brothers so I am wrong to say Destiel matters too.” 

The unkindness in this fandom over all this continues to be overwhelming. Get your shit together.  You worship your favorite actors and then they show you up every time by being kinder and more open and understanding than fans manage to be. Jensen and Misha are showing you how to roll and people are ignoring it in favor of continuing to try to silence and demean Destiel shippers.

For Destiel shippers, don’t let all this gaslighting and shaming nonsense and the systemic corporate nonsense that wants Destiel silenced knock you off from your reading of canon. It was valid. It was real. Thanks to the magic of bleedback effect, now it was always textual, the subtextual has been transformed retroactively, and it’s from both Dean and Cas’s end. If you still feel doubt on Dean’s side, because we didn’t get the same loud explicit confirmation, go back to the text itself. If you believed it already for Cas, if Cas’s confession to Dean only validated what you already knew, why can’t you see it for Dean, because it’s already there. 

[cakeemoji]

very random headcanons where the obey me! characters are my chemical romance fans / stans

this is what happens when your past fandom and current fandom collides (sorry not sorry)

lucifer

knows about them because satan switched out his classical records for an MCR one

he doesn’t like them much

if he got into them, he might have a mikey bias (it's the whole 'i have to put up with my brother's shit' kind of thing)

he would be more of a casual fan - he can understand why his brothers and MC like my chem but they’re just not his kind of music

even so, i feel like he would be able to recognize which era a certain pic is from based on the members’ hair

he doesn't care about the lore or the band members' lives, like he really doesn't need to know who french-kissed who to piss off homophobic jocks on stage in 2007

mammon

his fav album would have to be danger days and he listened to some of the other well-known songs

his fav song would be "vampire money" because it has the word money in it and because it goes so hard ?>??!!

no, he doesn't know that the song has to do with the band turning down an offer to make a song for a twillight movie (not yet at least)

he also likes "na na na", not because of the "take the cash and i'll keep it" line but also since he likes the energy the song has !!

he’s a danger days enthusiast and defends the album + songs (no sing slander in this household!) because it’s his fav

he’s a fun ghoul kinnie

if he took the time to get into the members, he would be caught in between frank or gerard's lane (it has to do with their stage presence)

leviathan

tbh my chem isn't his kind of music

BUT he listened to "i'm not okay (i promise)", "welcome to the black parade" and "teenagers" and thought they weren't that bad for a group of normies

okay so maybe he got into them. that's fine.

he adores the danger days cinematic universe (he kins party poison) and has his own killjoy persona :]

watches the live performance & turns into a totally different person whenever mama is played

ironically makes those "yeemo" jokes because they're hilariously stupid and for the lolz (g-note jokes, uses those weird nicknames, etc.)

“ROFL pickle gerard???? peak humour LMAO” “levi please shut up”

he doesn't have a bias but he's grown fond of gerard's work (music or art/comic work, either or)

owns the funko figures and those hot topic collectables

he shops at hot topic with belphie

satan

his favourite albums have to be i brought you my bullets... and three cheers !!

his fav songs are "demolition lovers" and "i never told you what i did for a living"

mainly because he likes the concept of the two lovers and thinks the tale is quite tragic

loves looking into the lyrics and reading between the lines ('oh, how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying' and ‘juliet loves the beat & the lust it commands / drop the dagger & lather the blood on your hands romeo’ are his favs lines)

he switches out lucifer’s classical records with MCR ones to piss him off

cried to the g-note before

mikey stan. he's a mikey stan.

tbh he’d stan pete wentz and ryan ross too 

he's read unholyverse and thinks it's a work of art

he’s an ft. willz theorist. 

tbh you could ask him about any mcr theory and he’ll give you all the details. the scrapped paper kingdom album? it’s beautiful. the smashing pumpkins theory?? yes, that’s absolutely canon we predicted mcr’s return

asmodeus

only knows about MCR because a certain someone was blasting danger days and asmo fell head over heels in love with "destroya" after hearing the moans in the song

in fact, whenever someone plays destroya, he moans along to when gerard & frank do in the song just to piss everyone off

destroya is now banned from being played in the HoL

but it's okay, he still has F.T.W.W.W. and its "c'mon, c'mon, kiss my battery / c'mon, c'mon, i'll be your android girl"

"gerard way gender envy ♡"

bought the hipdot x MCR make-up palette

has done album-inspired looks, i just know it.

has probably seen that one "gerard way many moans and groans" video

he came across a frerard kiss compilation and became infested in gerard/frank's relationship

may or may not be a frerardie / gerbertie

hell he might as well be a petekey truther too

“okay but listen to me, you do not just make out with your friends on stage in front of your fans! [...] huh, maybe i should start doing that.”

beelzebub

he saw the music video to "the ghost for you" and teared up because seeing mikey die reminded him of the celestial war and :(

ray toro stan!!! also listens to his solo work and loves after the laughter

"sing" or "save yourself, i'll hold them back" has to be his favourite songs

he watched "life on the murder scene" and laughed at when ray stuck his hand in the cupcake (though it was a total waste of good food <//3)

but seeing the band in the documentary on stage and having fun reminded him of his brothers & all the time they spend :D

ALSO he would definitely practice his drumming skills to their songs

and maybe blast them during his workout sessions

belphegor

“satan i found a new song that lucifer would despise. [plays teenagers]”

he likes them and thinks they're neat (MCR rocks his socks!)

tbh his music taste is a mess

he definitely rocked out to the black parade when he was in the attic ("dead!" was dedicated to lucifer <3)

“sleep” is one of his fav songs (take a guess why)

"famous last words" is his favourite music video

also cried to the g-note a couple of times

absolutely loses his shit whenever “welcome to the black parade” come on - i mean, who doesn’t??

he owns merch - specifically the shirts you can get at your local hot topic

he definitely likes the used as well and his fav album from them would have to be lies for the liars

majority of MCR’s songs are the anti-lucifer league’s anthems

simeon & luke

luke only knows about mcr because simeon played that one yo gabba gabba episode that mcr was featured on because MC said it would help them learn more about the human worlds culture / children’s programs and stuff

therefore "every snowflake is different (just like you)" is luke's favourite MCR song

he cried once he found out they broke up after discovering who they actually were 3 hours later

this was also the start of luke’s rebellious phase

it was not a good three weeks for simeon, or for anyone, honestly

solomon

he’s okay with them - they’re just not his thing?

he would be neutral on whether he likes them or not

BUT he adores the band’s aesthetic

and he's grown a strong love-hate relationship with "destroya"

"asmo, destroya is not just a 'funny haha moaning song'. it's a fight song about being pitted against all odds and finding the lack of faith in yourself, watching everything turn yourself into your own enemy.” “what’s that solomon? sorry i can’t hear you over the sound of gerard’s moans ah ah ah ah~”

he enjoys watching their music videos tho (there's something about the MV for helena that makes it so compelling)

barbatos

he's like the no. 1 mcr stan

asked for a day off once march 22nd came around (as a joke)

lord diavolo asked why, barbatos gave his reasoning and he got that day off.

his favourite album is bullets because gerard's funky screams manage to send chills down his spine

like the part where he goes "just because my hands around your THROAT-" yeah. man, i love that part.

just like satan, he enjoys analyzing the lyrics and looking for deeper meanings :]

this might be ooc but i can't help but think that he'd try to search for a timeline where mcr didn't break up in 2013

diavolo

he overheard MC listening to one of MCR’s songs

he doesn't know much but he knows what good music is when he hears it!

“lucifer, i think it’s time for a study of human world music traditions!” “where is this coming from”

“welcome to the black parade” is his favourite song !!!! like the lyricism?? the transitions??? honestly gerard’s vocals and - wow - everything about it.. he gets why barbatos & the others like them so much

march 22nd was close to becoming a national holiday /j

upon hearing MCR's return, he tried to get reunion tickets for barbatos (and for MC + the brothers too!)

he succeeded <3

yeah they were at the LA return show i just know it

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over�� but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. ���This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.

[justasillybear]

Is that a Dog?

It all started, as did many of the things that went wrong in Percy’s life, by not asking the right questions.

In his defence, it hadn’t seemed necessary to ask Grover anything other than “Can I have one” when his best friend and roommate had pulled out some freshly baked brownies from the oven.

First mistake.

The second mistake was sneaking two more brownies while Grover hadn’t been looking.

It could be said, as Percy would later point out, that Grover was the one responsible for everything that happened after that. Months later Percy would look back on that moment and realise Grover hadn’t even attempted to warn him that there was weed in the brownies. Then he’d shake his head and think wow Grover really screwed me over. But that was months away.

In the present, Percy felt like he was floating, everything felt bright and new, and Grover was driving him to go get a milkshake. How could he be mad at Grover when he was the reason Percy felt so at peace? He could hear Grover’s Michael Franti CD playing, and his soft voice singing along, not quite drowned out by the loud honks of irate drivers stuck like them in New York traffic. If he were in a clearer state of mind, Percy would likely have realised that Grover had also eaten one of the brownies and shouldn’t have really been driving. But he wasn’t, instead he let his eyes drift out the window up towards the perfectly blue sky. So blue it almost looked like the ocean and Percy wondered if he just reached up would he fall in and-

What?

Holy. Shit.

“A puppy!” Percy screeched, starting out of the window and at the car a few places ahead of them to the left. He turned to Grover and pointed to the little golden retriever that was poking its head out of a car window. It’s tongue was hanging out of its mouth and Percy felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t known it before, but now he realised that was what he’d been missing in his life.

“Nice spot, what a cute dog.” Grover approved, peering over, his eyes looking slightly red and heavy-lidded.

“He looks... Like he gives good hugs”. Percy mused. He desperately wanted to test out his theory. Percy sent up a quick prayer asking for help, and was elated to find the traffic moving. He waited with bated breath while their lane moved forward until they were parked next to the dog. “Fuck yes!” he virtually screamed. Today was the best day!

“He's so tiny?” Percy mused, eyes continuing to stare dreamily over and then… the puppy looked at him and BARKED. And Percy just knew he was calling out to him. Asking to be petted.

Percy unbuckled his seat belt and rolled down the window, decidedly ignoring Grover’s confused exclamations. “He wants to be petted!” Percy offered as he reached out to touch soft golden fur. The dog yipped happily in response, pushing his small wet nose into the offered hand. Percy could feel his eyes growing misty again. He loved dogs so much. He’d always wanted one growing up, but Gabe had never allowed it. His mum had felt bad about it, getting him a fish instead which he’d loved - but it wasn’t the same. Don’t get him wrong, fish were awesome and that gift had been one of the reasons he was now studying marine biology. But… no fish had ever given him this moment. The moment where they look at you with adoration in their eyes and promise to love you forever. Percy hoped the puppy knew that Percy felt the same way.

“Um, Luke. A stranger is petting your dog.”

Percy looked up from the deep blue eyes of his new ride-or-die bestie and saw a blond girl who looked to be around his age staring at him like he was crazy (which Percy thought was a little rude.)

“Is he your dog?” Percy questioned, reluctantly removing his hand away realising that he should probably have asked the owner’s permission before sticking the upper half of his body out of the car to pet their dog. Even a dog as friendly as this, with beautiful and kind blue eyes.

“No. He’s-“

“Mine.” A deep voice cut in, pulling Percy’s attention to the driver seat of the car, where a young man with bright blue eyes, soft golden hair, and a truly wicked smirk was staring at him. The guy looked around 19 with a gnarly looking scar trailing down from his eye to his chin. Which … Damn! The scar should have detracted from how unfairly attractive he was, but instead, it made Percy want to lean over and touch it. He wondered how it would feel. If it would be rough?

Focus Percy!

“Wow, Annabeth, you didn’t say he was cute”. Percy felt his cheeks flush, and he could hear himself spluttering out nonsense for a good few moments, searching for an appropriate response.

The guy kind of looked like his dog, which was weird. What was even weirder was that the realisation made Percy want to reach out and pet his hair too, to see if it was just as soft as his dogs.

“Uuuh, noo..what, not? I’m not… you’re the one that’s. I don’t – cute! Grover. This guy thinks I’m cute?” Percy managed eventually, much to the growing amusement of the man in question. He quickly averted his eyes, turning to Grover who stared back giggling softly. Traitor.

“Percy, you’re very cute. Now you need to sit back down. We could move at any moment.”  Grover managed between breathy giggles. He didn’t sound very concerned, so Percy decided it was safe to ignore his warning for now. If Percy had to choose between personal safety and the opportunity to spend time with a cute dog and an equally cute owner, well, safety didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay, Grover,” Percy said in a peaceful tone, turning back around to once again pet the head of the puppy, “but I’m in the middle of something very important right now.” At this Grover’s laughter got louder.

“You!” Percy pointed at the driver, “Have a nice face. And smile. And eyes. Grover and I are going to get milkshakes, would you and your puppy like to join us? We could hold hands and talk about your dog and how all three of you are rocking the blond blue eyes thing-”

“Percy the traffic is moving…” Grover butted in.

“Grover, a moment!” Percy begged, yelping when Grover started to inch the car forwards with the traffic, Percy’s torso still half out of the car. Luck seemed to be on his side today however as the other lane was also moving slowly alongside them, so Percy decided to just continue to pet the dog's head. He shot a quick glare at Grover for good measure though.

“Hey idiot, you need to listen to him and get in the car. What if traffic picks up?” the girl warned, mumbling to herself about high idiots.

“Percy is it?” the driver asked, drawing Percy’s attention away from Grover and back to his unfairly handsome face. Percy could feel a grin stretching across his lips.

“How’d you know my name?” he wonders, feeling pleased. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the older guy, all deep and slow like he was savouring each syllable. The guy laughed at the question.

“Your boyfriend there’s said it a few times.” He explained, and Percy nodded vigorously in understanding, and then begun to shake his head equally as energetically. “Grover? No! He’s like… a brother. Definitely not my boyfriend.” Percy explained forcefully, He really didn’t want the hot guy to get the wrong idea. Grover was his best friend, but he’d rather jump into the harbour than date him.

“Why the harbour?” the guy asked through chuckles. Percy hoped he’d keep laughing, the sound was making his head feel as light as the brownies had.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup, green eyes, you did. And I’m sorry, I’d love to hang out more, but I need to drop my sister off at her girlfriends.” He said, pointing a finger at the girl in the backseat. Percy turned to look at her with sad eyes. The girl with golden curls looked like she couldn’t decide if she should smile or scowl. He was disappointed to note her eyes were more grey than blue.

“Oh, that’s sad.” Percy pouted, retreating back slightly into Grover’s car. Before he was fully in, the guy reached out a hand to stop him. He had nice hands, they were large and calloused, and Percy wanted to hold one.

“Wait. Um, maybe I could give you my number, so I know you got home alright? My name's Luke Castellan. C-A-S-T-E-L-L-A-N. We could get that milkshake another… less traffic-bound time?” Luke asked, looking nervous for the first time, making Percy grin. He quickly whipped out his phone and typed in Luke’s details.

“yes! .” He cheered, once to Luke, and then once again to the dog who was still nuzzling his hand. “So, I’ll see you both soon?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Percy.” Luke teased and Percy felt himself nodding.

“Promise,” Percy said firmly, sliding back into the car to Grover's relief. He waved at Luke once the window was rolled up, pleased to see the guy was still staring over at him. He looked like he was saying sometimes but Percy couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it made the girl in the backseat lean forward and smack his shoulder. Luke waved one final time before turning his eyes back to the road. His face looked bright and carefree, and Percy wanted to look at him forever. Then the traffic moved and Luke, and his puppy, were gone.

Percy tried not to feel too sad, but he wished he’d taken a picture.

“Only Percy-fucking-Jackson could get a guy’s number after molesting his dog while high in traffic.” Grover giggled, and Percy allowed himself to be dragged away from his thoughts.

“What can I say. I’m irresistible”. He stated, smirking over at his best friend. Grover just continued to giggle. Laying back in his seat he looked back up to the perfect blue sky and thought of Luke's eyes. Luke Castellan, Luke Castellan, Luke-

Maybe he wouldn’t blame Grover after all.

[akria23]

I’m kinda obsessed with the aspect of the last half DSN. I think I’ve anticipated the second half of this series for a long time. Personally I feel that the 2’d half makes or breaks a good show. You you stay the coarse you can bore many of your viewers, if you dip into the wrong lane you will displease many of your viewers. It’s only kicking the story into overdrive that you stand a better chance. With DSN’s fast pace & story structure of solving conflicts within atleast an episode & a half I wondered how this would effect storylines in the last half. Like I said before there’s a few storylines still to come into play and fill up the end of the series -

Leo’s family - I don’t think they’re gonna be the cause of any real angst but I do feel like they’ll take up screen time & affect the mood - it’s kinda hard to mix angst with comedic elements (not impossible but difficult all the same). And I think the mom at least will have a number of scenes because of engagement with both Leo/Fiat & Leon/Pob. They’ve already set the playing field for viewers to love her.

Fiats Family - so far they’ve kinda scattered this conflict throughout the series and will probably continue to do so until it comes to its own big moment. I’m sure it’s gonna get its big due. I kinda wish it wasn’t tho. Somehow most series always pull the ‘just bear with your parents & they’ll come around’ tropes and I hate it. Some parents are just trash that you have to separate from. I don’t like way series tend to ignore the trauma and identity issues bad parents cause their child and then still end with an all’s well ends well approach. I wanted Fiats family to keep the energy because I feared they push the ‘misunderstood/strict’ parent trope and here we are! Hopefully we atleast get some accountability in the dialogue.

— I’m actually surprised that they saved the family stuff for the second half. It’ll have its own a notional moments but I’m still surprised at that choice.

Leon/Phob - the advancement of their relationship & any conflict which I’m sure they’ll be some.

Girl? I can’t remember clearly but I think there was another girl saying she liked Leo (from one of the old trailers…?) maybe I’m remembering wrong…I kinda hope I am because why would you place a random pursuer near the end? After everything LeoFiat has gone through she shouldn’t be able to cause any real harm by trying to come in the middle because they should’ve learned to communicate by the end. Def when someone has already tried to verbally stake her interest and the energy she received was a united front it would be weird to have it any other way near the ending half.

The one I’m most torn on is Curly. I find myself at a theory dilemma when it comes to him because the big theory that wraps itself around my brain doesn’t mesh well inside the framework of the story, but it remains regardless because my only other theory doesn’t feel…perfect either.

When I first saw the original trailer for the show I thought the ordeal with Curly would just turn out to be some kind of blowout built on miscommunication & misunderstandings. However the pacing, structure of the story, and Mame’s character writing style now has me questioning that. MAME isn’t the best at layering her characters, often she shows them for exactly who they are in their first introduction. This is why no matter how many ppl said that Leon’s antics would be a certain way in the last episode - I didn’t agree. Same for buying into the concept that Pob was pursuing Leo - it didn’t fit what his character was shown to be. On top of that she tends to over ‘perfect’ one of her main leads to the point where they don’t get to be flawed in persona. This happened in both LBC & TharnType so I can’t help but wonder if that’s the current case with Leo in DSN. So I question if we’d really see a storyline where Leo’s jealousy becomes so outrageous that it causes yet another dispute in the relationship - even if that jealousy was pressed by taunting. Plus I feel like this would just put them back to conversations they’ve already had. However even after saying all that - I remember that Mame does love the jealousy trope 😌

After the the last episode I wondered if the plot would actually be Fiat having been taken advantage of in the past but I argue against this one even because it’s way heavier than the story structure really calls for. But I also feel it would give that big angst moment without Leo & Fiat being at odds and without making Leo the bad guy for the intense emotions he’s exhibiting. Changing the presented emotions from petty jealousy to protective measures.

We have atleast 3 or 4 crying scenes left if they all make it and we’re about due for one so it would make sense for Curly to be one & be a big conflict section, considering he’s the mid-point conflict. But I’m unsure, before the last episode I would’ve said Mame wouldn’t have gone here simply because they’ve intentionally moved in a way to stay clear of any topic that would cause them possible backlash or fandom upset.

When it comes to curly I can’t pin down which theory I want to go with because I’m not 100% comfortable with either. I can’t figure a middle ground. It’s not often I’m stuck between my own theories not comfortable leaning into either, so maybe it’s a testament to the story structure or maybe I’m just not comfortable with the addition of either plot. I really don’t want another episode of - Fiat did something of poor taste in the past that affected Leo but he’s sorry now and will be a good boy from here on out. Been there done that, seen them have the conversation enough times to buy the shirt. The first theory would be shallow enough to fit into the structure of the story but it would just be its own sort of repeat of conflict we’ve already seen. While the other theory just feels too heavy. I don’t know how they’d solve a heavy issue in an episode. So far the show has intentionally been light and fast paced. I don’t think Curly situation will drag too long.

So I find myself at a fork in the road. Although I’m a bit anxious about this episode and episode 7 - because I find the mid episode make or break how good a story came across for me - I’m also interested to see how they choose to transition into the second half of the story.

[peterxwade24]

Into the Mari-Verse

For Maribat March 2021 day 12 prompt Second Chance (sort of. if you squint hard enough).

I know this one is late (like four days late) but i hope you enjoy it regardless.

Enjoy ~

Ever since Marinette was little she’d always wondered if there was more than just her universe. Her parents had always chuckled at her, simply letting her get wrapped up in what they believed to be an obsession with science fiction.

When Marinette was ten years old she’d already consumed nearly all of the media about other universes or realities. She decided instead to begin writing about her own reality. She simply let her mind wander, writing down everything that crossed her mind.

She was eleven when she met a kind, if opinionated, old man who didn’t tell her that her ideas were useless and better suited for boys like her Nonno Roland. She could look past his opinions on how she dressed and how she acted so she could have someone who didn’t think her stance on the multiverse theory was dumb. His name was Master Wang Fu and he taught her different methods of meditation.

---

Three months after she turned eleven, one month after she met Master Fu, she woke up in a place she’d never been in before. Luckily she had her phone on her so she could quickly search for her parents’ patisserie.

The first article she found was about a fire. The fire took not only her home and her parents’ business, but also her parents. The second article she found was about what happened to her after. She learned that she’d been shuffled around from home to home for a while before some American billionaire, Bruce Wayne, took her in and legally adopted her, giving her several siblings as well as a new grandparent and an aunt.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a large dog, identified as Titus by a family photo on one of the newspapers’ websites, jumping on top of her and a call of “Copycat?” from her doorway. She turned to look at whomever was at the door, a boy maybe one year older than her identified as Damian by the same family photo.

“Hey, Damian.” She could tell from the way he was looking at her that she usually called him something else.

“Did you hit your head? Should I retrieve Todd?” Damian turned on his heel and went in search of ”Todd”.

Marinette looked at that same family photo, taken by a Ms. Lois Lane, to learn who exactly “Todd” was. She learned his name, Jason Todd, and put a face to the name. Her vision started to get cloudy and she felt herself slump forward.

The last thing she heard was a distressed call of “Pixie?!” before she woke back up in her bed above the patisserie.

---

It had been nearly two months since she had woken up in the Wayne home, having done her research on them in the time since, when she woke up in a different room in the manor. She glanced down, seeing dark skin like Damian’s from her last visit, before searching out a mirror. She looked at herself in the mirror, seeing features she vaguely remembered from Damian prominently displayed on her own face. She glanced down, seeing a black outline of praying mantis peaking through the neckline of the shirt she wore. She decided to get dressed, figuring this other version of her would appreciate the forethought when she woke back up in her body. She pulled on a dark purple high neck shirt with a matching dark purple high-waisted skirt over a pair of gray sheer tights and a pair of purple heeled boots, in an outfit inspired by Starfire.

She left the room, striding through the house as though she owned the building. Her thoughts were cut off by a call of “Man-eater?”

Marinette recognized the voice from the last time she was in the manor. “Jason.” She didn’t get to see the surprise on his face as in the next second her vision was clouding over and she seemed to fall into the wall.

---

The third time Marinette woke up in Wayne Manor, Damian was wrapped around her while their turkey, Jerry, was asleep at the foot of the bed. She gently ran her fingers through Damian’s hair, noticing that their skin tones were almost identical this time, and smiled. She looked up at a barely there sound by the bedroom door and saw a man who she figured would look nearly identical to Damian if he was asleep. She dug back through her memories, recalling that the man in the doorway was named Bruce (the same man who’d adopted her the first time she’d woken up in the manor) while another man, similar to Bruce, appeared just over his shoulder with a smile on his face. Marinette smiled back at him before several sets of too loud footsteps sounded behind the two men, causing her to clap her hands over her ears.

She didn’t hear anything they said as she faded away from this reality, having put together after the first time that she was traveling between realities and inhabiting that reality’s Marinette.

---

The fourth time, Marinette woke up in her bedroom in the patisserie, or what she assumed was her bedroom. She ran her hand through her hair, finding it much shorter than she remembered and when she pulled her hand away there were dark red strands of hair caught between her fingers. She figured maybe she wasn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng this time simply from the red hair, but she also knew she wasn’t related to Damian due to her pale skin. She watched as her phone lit up with a notification from Chloé, followed by a notification from Nino and finally a notification from Kim before her vision grew cloudy and she drifted away from this reality.

---

The fifth time, Marinette jolted awake in her bedroom, a scream dying on her tongue. She looked around her, seeing a sickly green coloured broken heart floating beside her head. She also noticed the teal colour of her hair, figuring that something had happened to cause her to want to change her hair. She looked at her phone as it lit up with a notification from Chloé, which was one of two common things between this reality and the last. She faded quicker from this reality than the last few, not understanding why until she talked to Master Fu about it.

---

Marinette sat across from Master Fu in the main room of his massage parlor. Her head was bent while she waited for him to finish his tea.

Master Fu looked at Marinette, could see the residual magic from the Rabbit miraculous left on her being. He raised an eyebrow as he caught a glimpse of reisual magic from the Snake miraculous around her head and frowned. “Do you believe in magic?”

Marinette nodded, looking at the older man. “Of course. One can’t believe in alternate realities that run parallel to their own without acknowledging the existence of magic.”

Master Fu suddenly got up and moved to an old looking gramophone, pushing a series of buttons until an ancient looking jewelry box rose out of the gramophone. Master Fu carried it over to the table and opened it to reveal sixteen animal themed pieces of jewelry.

“These are- where did you find these?” Marinette looked up at Master Fu, her eyes shining a pale indigo.

Master Fu smiled at Marinette. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Despite never having come in contact with these jewels you seem to have tapped into the abilities of some of the beings held in this box. It is my sworn duty to protect them. Will you join me in protecting these jewels from harm and reclaiming the two lost jewels?”

Marinette nodded, holding herself back from reaching out for the jewels. “I will join you.”

---

Marinette awoke in Wayne Manor again, this time wearing an ouroboros snake bracelet with yellow citrine eyes, and she instantly knew something was different. “Sass, scales slither,” she uttered as she looked around the room seeing nothing beyond the darkness.

She was cloaked in an aqua green light and when it vanished her eyes glowed yellow allowing her to actually take in her surroundings. She uttered “second chance” as she turned her bracelet engaging her ability as she waited for the sense of wrongness to approach.

Her vision clouded over once again as she faded from this reality, wondering where she’d end up next.

Vipère awoke in her place, her eyes flicking from left to right, before she sighed and slumped back down onto her bed. “Sass, scales rest.” Vipère was cloaked in an aqua green light and when it disappeared, Martha was in her place. “Sass, is anyone else in the room?”

“No Guardian. There isn’t.” Sass responded.

“Thank you Sass.”

@maribatmarch-2k21

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Clark Kent imagine

Author note: I cannot remeber writing this..and since i haven’t wrote anything for a while. I figure hey why not!!!!! So Sorry if it doesn’t make sense LOL 😂😂 I will be posting more soon promise.!!

Did i proof read: .... I honestly dont remember writing this soo.. you BET your tooth i didn’t proof read

Rating: fluffy!

Fandom: DC

God your such a big Dork!”

Laughing loudly your sides hurt , Clark just tripped and slide right into a lamp and somehow managed for the shade too be on. His head. You reached over helping him chuckling softly tracing your hands over his broad shoulders making sure he wasn’t hurt. Those Hurting Clark was physically impossible. You still worry.

He chuckled softly saying sorry, you just laughed giving him a quick kiss on the shoulder as you shifted too move too your sofa.

Loving Superman had it’s perks and downsides, the biggest one was that Loris Lane was Furious that you “stole” her profit. Clark always said that Louis never abused their relationship too get articles or too gain more popularity. But she was literally the Only reporter in the entire City that Had Full access too the most talked about man in the entire world.Getting raises left and right when She got a “in-depth “ conversation with Superman and ally he deets on a attack. Whatever way Clark spelt it out. You hated that she abused her relationship for gain at work. It felt wrong. She was literally Sleepign with the subject too information.

It didn’t help that your relationship with her was tense even before you knew she knew about Clarks double life. You were one of the few humans too know about Clarks ability before he became Superman. You grew up right down the road from Clark, same grade, best friends all thru school. Clark would show off his powers too you when you were younger and you were the only one outside he’s family too know. After he left and ran off too find himself you stayed and helped his mom and then Superman arrived and you reconnected with your oldest friend and you moved toot he city after a awful breakup and you just always were around. And Louis hated it. You tried too be friendly towards her. But once Clark discovered she was In bed with lex Luther. (Right in the middle of the Act.) he was furious And heartbroken and he broke up with her and you were secretly glade you didn’t have too pretend too be friends with her anymore.

Dating the man of steel happened so naturally you can’t even remember when it started or how it started who made the first move it just felt Right. Clark was smiling cupping your face looking at you “what you thinking about?”

Poking his stoumch you look up at him grinning, “how I’m so lucky too have my Dork.” He chuckled reaching over kissing your head. “I have too go surveillance with Bruce you be alright tonight?”

Nodding your head weakly. You were use too having too share Clark with the world. Honestly how can you complain when he’s Saving the literally world?

“Oh Ask Bruce How The Hell do you connect the light too the speakers? Too do that flashy thing.he’s instructions Suck!”

He chuckled saying okay.

He walked off. As you grinned excited too have the apartment too yourself. You walked over too your room getting out of your Jeans and into Shorts and a shirt of clarks you always steal it had he’s favourite football team. Making dinner for you, and a dessert. You grabbed your Tablet (making sure too put sticky tack on both lenses after reading how easily the cameras’ are hacked you always put Sticky tack on it if your gonna watch something in the tub.

Getting the Tub ready you started binge watching a the musketeers. When you finished having a relaxing bath you got into your cloths again and watched it on the tv. The actors were Hot as Hell. And the voices. Melting! Clark had that affect on you. He’s voice was smooth and deep and Hot. Those every aspect of your boyfriend is Hot.

You looked around realizing the place was empty as you went too the freezer as you pulled out your container of Icing. Before retuning too the sofa and warming it up as you had your spoon from your ice cream and mixed it as you watched tv. An hour passed when jumped gasping at some scenes. Then you heard the deep chuckle of your boyfriend.

“what are you doing?” You turned looking at Clark seeing him in his uniform as you had a spoon sticking out of your mouth as you spoke, “I’m- what are you doing here? I thought you were going too be late?”

“I came too check on you- what are you watching?” Getting up as you grabbed the icing container as you spoke, “Mustkeers.- what- aren’t you suppose too be hanging with a bat?” He chuckled walking over pulling you into a deep kiss it was unexpected as he pulled back as he spoke, “good icing.” You laughed hitting his softly as he grinned holding your head. “You smell nice.”

“had a bath with my good stuff.” He chuckled softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“thank you.”

“For. Bathing?”

Clark chuckled kissing your forehead as he spoke, “No for being you.”

“thank you?”

He kissed you again before dashing off as you got ready for bed.

Standing in the shower in the morning getting cleaned you turned seeing Clark standing in the bathroom smiling as you spoke ‘what?”

Seeing him pulling off his Shirt, which even after a year of dating. Still left you breathless seeing him shirtless. He was curved and caved from the Gods! It still took you back that he was yours. That this guy. Who looks like a god, has powers As if he was one. Was your you giggled seeing him quickly undress and Joining you in the shower. Quickly pulling you into a deep Kiss,

Perfection can only last for so Long.

It was wrong place at the wrong time. You were In a Church helping your friend choose a location for her wedding when a machine came Crashing into the Chapel destroying it. And the impact flung you backwards and you were pierced thru the stoumch by a pipe it slipped thru you like butter. You were pinned too the wall as you looked up seeing Lex Luther appear from the robotic machine he laughed loudly seeing you.

Superman arrived instantly you saw him just in time too loose vision from loosing so much blood. You heard him screaming No! As you drift.

Clark Dashed over too you seeing you impaled and pinned too the wall. He’s screams broke windows of the church as he fell down onto his knees realizing that you were gone. The girl who Never treated him like anything then a boy. The boy she has known her whole life. Who once learning about everything about him. Simply asked if she kissed him could she get the ability too be super strong. The girl who use too help him practice how too control who would sneak over too play with him. Who was his first kiss. The women who idea of a fun night in is. Watching a fantasy show and be bare legged and as comfy as possible. Clark felt his soul breaking seeing you. The Girl he was going too marry.have a family with.

“Opps.”

Luther said giddy seeing Clark in so much pain. Before Clark could find the strength too move. Luther dissapeared.

Clark screamed NO. You were gone..

Weeks passed with No sighting of Luther, Bruce ended up going toot he funeral, so did Diana , and Berry who you once meeting the flash instantly wanted too bet that Clark was faster. And you and him would have in debut conversations about Harry Potter. Wonder women was close with you also. You worked in a museum , and she would telly you stories a bout the greek gods. And the Amazon women. Cyborg was amazed a girl of this time. Couldn’t figure out how too do anything technical. You were as clueless as a 80 year old man trying too make a call on a smart phone.

Arther arrived toot he funeral with the others as he stood up too talk.the funeral was beauitful, and the wake was Sad. Clark’s Mom invited all the justice league too her house. Where Clark was staying since Luther has been MIA.

“when I first met that feisty women. She asked if I could really talk too whales and asked what they liked talking about. Then she told me I this insane theory of whales being fictional. Apparently that girl lived on the coast for two years. And Never saw a whale.Clark took her too my dads lighthouse and I got a few too pop up too show them off. I never seen a happier person in my life. She acted like a kid on Christmas Day .she was- something special.”

They all chuckled as Clark was silent holding his hands tightly as Diana stood up. “When I first met Y/N. she was covered head too toe in dirt and Mud. She was playing football with Clark.- She looked like the happiest girl in the world. I knew excatly at that moment she was madly in love. I remember looking like that at Steve. She asked me too help scare Clark it was- apparently her mission in life too scare him Once.-“ Diana went quite Seeing Clark was stiff. She knew excatly how he felt. Hallow inside with going thru the motion.

Bruce was about too speak when the front door opened. Seeing Y/N covered in dirt. You stood in the front entrance covered in dirt wearing the dress you were buried in. You coughed loudly as Clark Rushed over too you griping your face tightly, “how- How is this possible?”

“what the hell happened?”

Everyone looked at each other stunned as Diana heard a fast beating sound.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Clark was crying too hard too hear anything as Diana stepped over as she kneeled down pressing her ear too your stomach.

“it’s a heartbeat.”

“WHAT?” Gasping loudly as Clark was too stunned too take any of that information in. But your ears were working. “Shut up no it’s not! I- I was. In the church wasn’t I when that bastered- how- I woke up in the graveyard what the fuck! Is going on?!”

“how did you get out of the grave.. you were just Barried this morning.”

Rolling your shoulders you shook your head, “I woke up up above ground.. I wans’t- you buried me? What the Hell why!” You hit Clark as he gripped your face tightly as he spoke, “you scared the Shit outta me! How- I don’t understand you were died.”

You rolled your shoulders, “Don’t look at me! The last thing I remember was being in the church.. what- what happened?”

“you died..But I think your baby protected you.”

That’s when Clarks ears started working as he turned too wonderwomen. “Excuse me? Baby?”

“Oh Boy..’