#and i just got my first friends set in probably three to four years today

[toastingpencils37]

Whoever has been making banger Lego Friends sets for the past year or two needs to get a raise. Seriously

[honeipie]

plsplsplspls make the toast a series 😭

NATURALLY

izuku midoryia x reader

synopsis: going somewhere old to start something new

authors note: your wish is my command! i’ll probably make one more part beacause of one line i specifically wanna use LOLL

one | two | three | four

"izuku" inko's voice was light, but stern as she carried two mugs over to the small coffee table in her apartment. the same apartment that he had grown up in. of course, he had tried to buy her a house as soon as he received his first paycheck, but she refused. insisted that she didn't need much room for just herself. plus, she loved the little bursts of nostalgia she would get every so often from doing simple things. like making izuku's favorite cookies in the kitchen, or even walking by his old room which she kept perfectly intact. if someone walked in there they might've thought that he was still a teenage boy, but he wasn't.

there in her living room sat her son in his early adulthood. he almost took up half of the loveseat due to the growing muscle on his body. though even due to his increase in size, he shrunk down hearing his mother say his name.

she sat down next to him placing the mugs right on the coasters he had set out "you haven't answered my question"

izuku brought his two fingers up to rub the bridge of his nose "no, we're not together anymore" he mumbled in embarrassment and shame. it never felt good to tell anyone a relationship they invested time and money into didn't end up working out.

she frowned placing a hand on his back to rub slow circles "you got divorced after one week? izuku that can't be right.."

"no, no we didn't get divorced. we were actually, um" he was trying to figure out how to word this correctly to where he didn't sound insane "we were never officially married"

she stopped rubbing giving him a skeptical look "izuku what do you mean you were never married?"

he sighed leaning his elbows against his knees "we were supposed to sign the official marriage papers during the reception in front of everyone then send them in the next day. after that fight though? we just decided to not do it anymore"

"how did the press take it? i haven't seen anything"

"the press didn't know about the engagement or the wedding thankfully. we wanted a peaceful time to plan the wedding. they’re posting a breakup message for the both of us later today though. better to nip it in the bud now”

she nodded her head going to resume in rubbing his back "so when did you officially decide to call it off"

"yesterday"

"any specific reason? or a buildup of many?"

he paused for a moment, mulling over the answer "she would say one specific reason. i would say it built up over time" he shook his head in disbelief "couldn't even agree on that"

"what would she say the one reason was"

a lump caught in his throat at the question. such a simple fucking question that he didn't want to answer. but he knew if he didn't she would be a pain about it.

"y/n"

inko hummed at the very familiar name. you had been over mulitple times in the past years with and without her son. the two of you had grown close and she was like a mother to you. honestly, she had wished that izuku had gotten with you in the first place. would've saved a lot of time and trouble.

"well.. was she a strain to your relationship"

izuku scoffed, almost offended she even asked.

"she was never a problem for me-"

"well of course she wasn't a problem for you. that was your best friend"

"exactly! if uraraka couldn't understand that then it couldn't have worked between us. y/n was one of the first people to believe in me. i owe her a lot and i can't just let her go like that"

inko moved her hand from izuku's back and went to hold his hands instead "face me honey" izuku shifted his body so he was now facing his mother. growing older everyday, but still the strong woman he remembers when he was younger "i just wanted to apologize. for not bring able to give you a normal childhood with two parents in the home"

izuku's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion at her sudden apology "where is this coming from? mom it's fine. you did the best you could and i appreciate that more than anything else you could've done"

she patted on of his hands with a smile "i know you do sweetheart. but i'm mostly apologizing because you couldn't see what a real marriage consists of. the person you marry is one of the most important decisions you will ever make, but the easiest at the same time. love isn't enough to hold a marriage together, you need to be best friends before that. when you love someone on a surface level all you want to do is make sure they're happy. they won't tell you if something is bothering them. they'll follow you blindly into anything. when you marry your best friend you hold them accountable because you want to see them succeed in all that they do. it might make you fight sometimes, but at the end of the day it's worth it. because you have someone by your side you know that will stick it out with you for the rest of your years to come. that's what a marriage should be like"

".. so you're saying i should marry y/n?"

"i'm saying give it time. you don't need to jump back into another relationship immediately after this. what you should be doing is taking time to reflect on what you want, and when you're ready, how y/n makes you feel. and if you do feel something? let it flow. what happens will happen naturally”

---

the smell of hot glue filled your senses as you picked up a seashell from your pile. currently, you were at inko's house doing your monthly crafting sessions. who cares if you hadn't talked to izuku in four months? at least you had his mom.

last month the two of you had went to the beach to crochet, and ended up walking along the beach picking up seashells as you talked. that's when she let you know about the unspoken details of the breakup. you tried to hide your feelings with a stoic face and a simple 'wow'. though inko wasn't buying any of it.

she was currently letting you in on all the work drama she was currently having "i don't know why they want to get in my face like i'm the problem. ma'am, you have an STD, i'm a pediatric nurse. please let me do my job"

you threw your head back in laughter which drowned out the sound of keys jingling in the door.

"hey mom? i got those vegetables you were talking about. don't these tomatoes look fake?" he stopped mid-sentence seeing you sitting there on the floor with the same expression.

"oh no, i must've double booked you two" inko got up taking the bag from izuku's hands "you see every month y/n and i do crafty stuff together and it happened to land on the same day i told you i would make the stir fry"

you gave izuku a quick smile before turning from his lingering gaze "it's okay okaasan. i'll come back another day so we can finish it" you started to gather your things, but inko shook her head "you are staying for dinner. this recipe cooks for four and i am not eating all these leftovers"

you wanted to argue, but knew it would fall onto deaf ears "okay then"

“izuku honey. finish mines while i start on dinner”

“alright” he went to sit on the couch, knee almost brushing onto your shoulder. izuku watched as you placed one of the shells onto your frame carefully. getting the idea he started to do the same exact thing.

you could cut the tension with a knife. silence wasn’t something you were particularly used to with izuku.

“heard you and ochako broke up”

and at this moment he could start listing the things he loved about you.

1. you weren’t afraid to be blunt with him

both of his eyebrows raised and he blew out a puff of air “you don’t hold anything back”

“never did, never will”

he chuckled at your words glancing over at you. there was a slight smile on your face he could tell you were trying to hide. there was a slight slump to your shoulders though as time went on.

he continued with the project figuring he would wait until you spoke again.

like clockwork you turned looking directly into his eyes “can we talk?”

2. you made room for open and honest communication

he nodded placing the picture frame down carefully “yeah, unplug the hot glue and we can go in my room” you nodded unplugging the glue guns and heading over to his old room. he followed after you but not before turning back to his mom “we’re gonna talk”

she gave him a nod, but then quickly turned around when it finally registered “talk? like the talk? the talk so that you two can get together so i can finally have grandbabies talk?-“

“if i say yes will you stop it with that?”

“yes”

“then yes that talk”

she shooed him off into the room as if it was him holding them up. he rubbed the back of his neck while walking inside. with the other hand he closed the door with a soft click.

“how much of that did you hear?”

you shrugged going to sit on the bed “i didn’t hear any of it if it makes you feel better”

“it does actually” he sat himself down next to you with a huff. kirishima would probably kick him right now for how unmanly he’s being. forcing you to step up and take charge of the situation. he just wanted to test the waters out and see how you felt first.

“i guess i just wanted to catch up. really see how you’re feeling. cause i know you posted on the media you ended everything on good terms, but is everything really okay? i mean you broke up with the woman you thought you’d be spending the rest of your life with. it’s okay to be upset”

3. you genuinely cared for him no matter what

“i-“ he cleared his throat from the unexpected voice crack that had arose “sorry, i’m pretty fine now actually. i just feel guilty for making ochako feel embarrassed about the whole situation. other than that.. i really don’t think we were meant to be anyways”

“what do you mean you didn’t think you were meant to be anyways? why’d you propose in the first place then?”

he shrugged taking off a loose strand on the all might themed duvet “i don’t think i knew what marriage was about. but i was informed very recently on what it is about and my vision changed” he watched as you turned to look at him with eyebrows raised.

“oh yeah? changed to what?”

“you”

your playful demeanor dropped immediately. his words truly sinking into the both of you. he attempted to scoot closer to you, but you backed away hesitantly.

“izuku we can’t do this. where you break up with ochako and come running to me? i’m not a second choice you know that right?” this is what you had always wanted, but at this moment it didn’t feel that way. with the current circumstances how else were you supposed to feel?

izuku’s eyes widened when he heard that and redness quickly creeped up his neck. he held both hands up shaking his head “that’s not it i swear! you were never my second choice. in fact, you were always my first. i could just never admit it to myself that maybe, maybe we could make it work romantically. i- i am attracted to you and everything like that! maybe i was with uraraka for so long that i didn’t notice what was right in front of me”

your throat had gone dry. was this really happening? the boy you’d been crushing on for eternity is finally asking you out after leaving his longtime girlfriend. totally normal, and totally not a chance you were willing to give up.

you wasted no time grabbing both of his cheeks and pulling him down for a kiss. startled was an understatement as he felt his lips connecting to yours. though as he realized what was truly happening, he wasn’t complaining. he shut his eyes moving one hand to your cheek and the other on your waist.

despite the quick start, the kiss was soft and slow. tongues gently brushing together in steady movements. when you pulled away, there was a goofy smile on your face. izuku trailed more kisses from your cheek, to your jaw, right down your neck.

4. you were a damned good kisser

“you’ve got a lot of work to do. i hope you know that”

izuku hummed nodding his head “i’m willing to work for it”

“hm.. izu?”

“yeah” he mumbled clearly not wanting to your time be interrupted.

“i’m not saying this doesn’t feel nice, because it does, but can we save it? for one your mom is on the other room. and two? all might is staring dead into my soul”

he pulled away face bright red turning to the poster you were talking about. there he was in all his glory. all might standing there in his signature hero suit, beady blue eyes staring directly at the viewer. izuku turned back to you not being able to contain his laughter. you were right behind him leaning your head on his shoulder in a fit of giggles.

5. you were his best friend

taglist! @sagejin @crybabyl0l @yoihoshi-maki @reads-stuff-quietly @aejabba @valenspuppy @v3n7s 🫶🏾

let me know if you want to be added!

[terresdebrume]

I think I want to point at the elephant in the room today

The problem when we have the ever more frequent conversation of how to keep a fandom alive after the show it's based on stops airing is that we tend talk about it in a way that ignores the very real differences between the juggernauts of old fandoms like Star Trek and newer shows like Dead Boy Detectives, namely:

1. The difference in amount of material

2. The accessibility of said material

Part of the reason why Star Trek or The X-Files still have active fans so long after they aired is because those shows had multiple seasons with an average of 20 episodes each. For the X-Files' 11 seasons that's about 200 episodes each with their own storylines, themes, interesting ideas and frustrating mistakes right there to inspire Fanart, fic, meta, and any number of fanwork. I'm not even going to do the math on Star Trek: this show got about a bazillion shows

Dead Boy Detectives, and a lot of genre shows nowadays have like... Eight episodes. Ten, if we're lucky. Fandoms for procedurals or more broadly appealing shows fare better (Lone Star comes to mind, or sitcoms for example) because networks tend to keep them online longer, but genre series get ever shorter with ever fewer opportunities to really grow an audience... Think of all the shows that got popular on Tumblr in the past few years and tell me how many got a proper season? Shadow and Bones was cancelled. My Lady Jane: one season. Gentleman Jack, two (three?). Good Omens: maybe 3, depending on how the network handle the Gaiman situation. The Umbrella Academy got four seasons. Stranger Things, with 5 seasons and 42 episodes managed to equate roughly 2 seasons of the X-Files (probably not even that if you account for episode length). The Witcher currently has 3 seasons for 24 episodes.

Contrast this to shows like Dead Boy Detectives with, again, eight episodes. Maybe 16 if we get really lucky, but I'm not holding my breath. This is just materially WAY LESS soil for a fandom to grow in. It's not that people aren't motivated, it's that as much as you want to keep it going, there's only so much to say about 8 episodes! George Rexstrew, who plays one of the leads, even recently admitted that he's running out of things to say about his performance, and who can blame him? So after a while, you gotta turn to AU which by definition are always going to be potential hits and misses, since they diverge from what brought people to the show in the first place.

I know we're all real good at spinning yarn but sometimes it gets really hard not to run out of fiber.

As for accessibility: the Big Olds benefitted from two things. One, they were broadcast on much wider-reaching channels, if not from the start, then when they eventually made it on public networks. They had a regular play time, and you could stumble onto them by accident, this getting interested and picking it up. And two: the popular shows had a decent chance of getting tape or DVD sets, which made them easier to own and show to your friends so they could binge the story and join you in the fandom

By comparison, look at the barrier of access for Dead Boy Detectives:

Need to have a Netflix account

Need to see it somewhere in your recommendation (good luck if you come in more than a month after it released)

Need to see people talk about it as they binge (need to be in the right place at the right time, and by that I mean where fandom happens since Netflix has a habit of doing zero advertising for new shows)

Need to keep paying for a Netflix account if you wanna rewatch, or figure out how to do a piracy, which is getting more difficult and riskier every year

Need to be willing to get invested in a forever unfinished story

And when on top of that the writing in the first episode is, let's say it frankly, far from the best, that is a LOT of obstacle to overcome for a pretty small sandbox

So like, yeah, sure, we should be willing to keep making a fandom happen after a show ends, but at some point we can't ignore that the effort it takes to keep fandoms alive is getting way more intense than it used to be

[loulovingho]

Uncle Eddie (part 5)

Our Juniper is growing up 😞 You can read this chapter below, or on ao3. All parts can be read together or as individual stories.

Eddie was pretty sure that this was the most nervous he'd been in his entire life.

Standing on the Buckley-Kinard porch, flowers in one hand and a poorly wrapped birthday present in the other, he let out a deep breath as he waited for someone to come to the door.

When the door finally opened and Tommy stood in front of him, he felt about two feet tall.

“You are in some deep trouble, Man,” Tommy said, shaking his head.

Technically, he deserved it. It was all his fault.

Juniper's tenth birthday was the first time she would have both parents, and her Uncle Eddie, off work for the whole day. Everyone was going to be at the party, even all of her very annoying ten year old friends, but she was most excited to show off her firefighting family, which very much included Uncle Eddie.

Except Eddie, after a very long and exhausting forty-eight hour shift, was asked by Smith if they could trade shifts. “I only have a twelve on Saturday, and I'd be willing to take your twenty-four on Sunday.” And damn if that didn't sound like a good bargain at the time.

It wasn't until he got back from a call on Saturday and checked his phone to see three missed phone calls and five texts from Buck that it hit him.

He was supposed to be at Juniper's party.

He was an idiot.

And should probably get his brain checked for forgetting the one thing she'd reminded him about over and over to the point of Eddie having to beg her to please stop reminding him.

So now he stood at the door with apology flowers and a present that would have been awesome yesterday, but would probably mean nothing today.

“Am I even allowed in the house?” Eddie asked, Tommy already moving to the side to let him in.

“Well, technically Evan was closer to the door when the bell rang, but he went out back instead of answering.”

Eddie stepped inside but stayed in the entryway while Tommy closed the door. “How mad at me are they? How mad are you?”

“Mm,” Tommy hummed, thinking it over. “I'm down to about a four, but that's because of all the downright pathetic texts you sent me yesterday after Evan wouldn't respond to you. Juniper is probably a nine, but I think she's more sad than mad. Evan is... Well, Evan is Evan, so.”

“So I'm in really deep trouble.”

Tommy nodded. “Oh yeah.”

“I guess I should get started on my apology tour then.”

“Good idea. The five apology texts you sent last night are enough for me, by the way. I'd start with Juniper today if I were you. Evan won't forgive you until she does.”

A sigh. “She in her room?”

“Yeah. Good luck.”

*****

Eddie knocked on the open door, standing in the doorway until Juniper hopefully gave him the all clear to enter.

She was facing away from him, sitting at her desk and carefully applying polish to her fingernails. The knock caused her to swivel in her chair, but the smile she had faded quickly when she saw Eddie there. She turned back around.

“I thought you were Papa,” she grumbled out.

“No, just me. Can I come in, Chewy?”

She shrugged. “Free country.”

For all the ways she was turning into her own person, she still contained so much of her dads attitudes.

Eddie walked into the room and over to her desk, setting the flowers down beside her. “That's part of my apology,” he explained, then he set her gift on the other side of her. “That's for your birthday. Your nails look very nice, by the way.”

It was something she had been getting into lately. She loved trying new polishes. Right now she was applying a shimmery blue, and she had done so almost perfectly. She practiced on Tommy a lot. His toes had a new color every week.

The present Eddie had gotten her was a new polish kit that had come out. It was apparently a huge deal with tweens... and she was supposed to have it yesterday so she could do all her friends nails.

“I don't know if- if you know this,” she said, twisting the cap back on her polish, “but my birthday was yesterday.”

Eddie went over to her bed, tossing some stuffed animals to the side before he sat down. “I know, Juniper,” he started, hoping she'd eventually look his way, “and I'm sorry. I made a stupid mistake, I know I did. There's no excuse, but I am sorry.”

Juniper sighed. She stared down at her nails, watching them shine as she moved them around. “Papa told me I should forgive you.”

“That's nice of him.”

“Daddy told me it was, um, it was up to me.”

“That... sounds like your dad.”

“Then Papa told Daddy that people make mistakes, and a- as long as people really try to do better and mean that they're sorry, we should forgive them.”

“That's good advice,” Eddie agreed.

“Then Daddy told Papa that certain mistakes shouldn't be made in the first place and people should make an- an effort to show up.”

“Well, everyone has the right to feel however they feel,” Eddie reasoned.

“Then,” she continued with an exasperated breath, “they kept talking back and forth so I just came in my room.”

Sometimes Eddie wished he could be a fly on the wall to see what kinds of conversations happen in this house.

This was not one of those times.

“Well, Chewy, I- I hope you do forgive me, but I understand if you need more time, okay? I'll make it up to you however I can, but if you want me to leave you alone for a while I will.”

When Juniper didn't respond, Eddie got up and started for the door. “I'll see ya, Juniper.”

“Wait.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to see that Juniper was facing him now. “Yeah?”

“Are you really sorry?”

“I'm really sorry.”

“And you promise you won't do it again?”

“I-” Eddie paused, “I promise I will do my best to make sure I never make you sad again.”

Her eyes narrowed. “That is- is not the same.”

“It's the best I can do, Kid.”

She eyed him for a minute before seemingly coming to a conclusion. “Fine. I forgive you.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. You said you'd make it up to me, right?”

There's always a catch.

“Yes... Yes, I did.”

She smiled brightly, folding her hands together. “Can we go to Fun Zone today? It's a trampoline park and it's like th- the best place to go ever! Can we go?”

Well, that didn't seem like too much of an ask.

“Sure,” he replied. “Let me clear it with your dads first, but I'm sure it'll be fine.”

She clapped excitedly, her nose scrunching up with her grin. “Yay! I'm gonna get ready!”

Eddie glanced at his watch. “We'll head out in a few minutes, okay? I gotta talk to your dad first.”

The look on Juniper's face changed. “Ohh,” she grimaced. “I think Daddy's more mad than me. Here.” She hopped off her chair and picked up the flowers Eddie had given her. She pulled out one of the miniature roses and handed it to him. “Give this to Daddy. It might help.”

Under any other circumstance, Eddie might have laughed at the serious expression on her face, but not this time. After all, Juniper got her stubbornness from somewhere, and that somewhere was definitely Buck.

*****

Tommy was on the couch reading a magazine when Eddie came out to the living room. “How'd it go?” he asked.

“I've been officially forgiven,” Eddie informed him. “Although it did take a bit of a bribe. We're gonna go to some trampoline park thing after I talk to Buck.”

Tommy perked up at the mention of the park. “You mean Fun Zone?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Tommy snorted. “Oh, she's good. She is good.”

“What?” Eddie asked nervously. “Why?”

“On Sunday's kids get endless free ice cream. Endless ice cream, trampolines, they've got zip lines, obstacle courses, rope climbing, stuff like that. Add it all together and-”

“And she's gonna vomit in my truck.”

Tommy nodded. “I'd take a bag.”

“She's punishing me, isn't she?”

“We must all pay for our sins, Eddie,” Tommy replied, dramatically flipping the page of his magazine.

“Is Buck outside still?”

“Mhm.” He nodded toward the rose in Eddie's hand. “Flower for him?”

“Junie's idea.”

“Hm. Probably should've gone for the whole bouquet.”

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie turned for the sliding doors and headed out back.

Buck was sitting on the porch, staring out into the backyard ever so solemnly.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie began with a slow approach toward him.

Buck said nothing, turned slightly to fix his gaze further away from Eddie, toward one of their trees.

“Just letting you know, I already talked to Juniper and cleared everything up.”

Still no response.

Eddie sighed. He scooted a chair beside Buck and sat down. “Buck, I'm sorry. I was overly tired when I took that shift and the party slipped my mind.” He held the flower in front of Buck's face so he couldn't avoid it. “Juniper accepted my apology. Can you?”

Buck stayed unmoving at first, but after a few seconds he took the flower from Eddie and stared down at it. “You only brought me one flower?”

“Buck.”

Finally, Buck turned to him. “That was a really crappy thing to do, Eddie. Junie looks up to you, she'd been telling all her friends about her Uncle Eddie. Told them you were the cool uncle that taught her Spanish, and then you didn't even show up.”

“Buck, I-”

“And I worked on that damn party for two months. You remember all the clipboards.”

“I do.”

“A vintage, early 2010's birthday party? That was the theme I was given! Whatever the hell that even means! Tommy and I spent two months figuring it all out, but all she'd ever talk about was the fact you'd be there. Tommy and I are just her dads, Eddie, you're the special, cool one in her life. You let her down.”

As if Eddie didn't feel bad enough already. “I know, Buck. I know I let her down, and let you guys down too. I'm sorry.”

“You should be,” Buck replied, face tense.

They were both quiet for a minute, until Buck's posture slowly relaxed.

“You know I wouldn't care so much if it was just me, but you hurt Juniper,” Buck explained. “She still enjoyed her party, but she was really upset you weren't there.”

“I know, Buck. I really am sorry, okay? I'm gonna take her to Fun Zone today for a few hours and- and maybe we can have all her friends come to the station sometime soon? Give them a class on fire safety and show them what we do.”

Buck thought for a moment, twirling the rose between his fingers. “And you'll be the one giving the class,” he replied. It was less of a question and more of a command.

“Yes, I will give the class.”

Buck sighed. “Fine. You're forgiven.” He pointed at Eddie, “Never do it again though.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “Wouldn't dream of it.” He groaned as he stood, his bones creaking in ways they never did when he was younger. “I gotta see if Juniper's ready to go. Mind if I steal your kid for a few hours?”

Buck shook his head. “No, but... Wait, did you say you're going to Fun Zone?”

“Yeah.”

“She's gonna puke in your car.”

Eddie closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever he had just gotten into.

“Yeah, I... I know.”

[coyotelip]

starchaser (+ onesided moonwater) microfic: salt, hypnotized || MCD || @into-the-jeggyverse @taylorswiftmicrofic || wc: 687

Every Saturday, the same man comes to the restaurant. 

They are a fairly prestigious restaurant, so regular customers are not uncommon, but this man is particularly eye-catching. He is always dressed in a perfectly tailored suit over a black shirt. In fact, all of his clothes are black, which suits his pale skin and black hair. He books a table for the same time, arrives exactly 5 minutes earlier, orders the same dish with the same wine. 

He is always alone.

This sets him apart from others, because such prestigious places are used for dates or meetings with partners to impress. However, it seems that the man has no one to impress. He is sitting at a far table under a painting of a forest landscape, eating his meal slowly and with manners and watching the candles on the table. 

He seems to be hypnotized, sometimes he can take a sip of wine and roll it around in his mouth, watching the flame at the end of a long candle for a couple of minutes. 

Remus is equally hypnotized by these moments, but it's not the candle, it's this man, his slow and graceful movements. And although he is dressed in black, he acts on Remus like a flame on a moth. He wants to get closer, wants to hear his voice and smell his cologne. 

However, the man's table is not assigned to him, and Remus does not even get the opportunity to ask if he needs some water or the bill, or to say bon appetit or good evening. 

So he stays in the corner, hypnotized by the unattainable flame, running through hundreds of questions in his head and wondering why. 

◇◇◇

Every Saturday, Regulus comes to their place. He comes to their restaurant, at their time, sits at their table, orders their favorite dish, and spends exactly the same amount of time as it took James on their first date to charm Regulus completely. Thirty-three minutes.

He recalls how the wine tasted the sweetest on those evenings together, how everything around them disappeared for him, and they existed in their own bubble, sharing events in their lives, discussing colleagues and friends. They met their anniversaries, birthdays, and celebrated promotions at work here.

James proposed to him here. At this table, with a bottle of this wine, five years ago. He hid the ring in the salt and made Regulus laugh with this incredible performance.

“Oh, I think the salad is under-salted today... Mm, something is wrong with this saltine, could you please take a look, dear?”

“Oh my god, it's probably just empty, call the waiter and they'll replace it”

“I don't want to bother them with something so stupid, but look, for me?” James' big eyes does wonders on Regulus, so he couldn't refuse and took the salt in his hands, unscrewing the lid.

Only to find a silver engagement ring with an emerald inside instead of salt.

Four years ago, they got married.

Three years ago, they bought a house on the outskirts of town because James wanted Regulus to have a studio at home.

Two years ago, their house burned down with everything inside. With James inside.

And the most painful thing was that Regulus was left with nothing, not a single thing, because the house had everything. He didn't care about the documents or his studio, all of which could be repaired with money. However, he did care about the things they had earned together, about their photos and books with notes, about gifts from his husband, about his things. He cared about James's body, which remained there, right in front of the door, because he hadn't managed to get out before he lost consciousness.

Regulus was left with only memories, and he decided to drown himself in them, finding no other way out.

And every Saturday he came to their restaurant, sat down at their table and ordered their meal, hypnotized by the candle in front of him, begging for the little flame to swallow him up and take him away with it, just as it had once taken James away from him.

[blogurlnotfound]

Drumming - Doctor Who x Reader

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts. any gender reader, but makeup mentioned.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

The Pretty Woman AU no one asked for.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Prostitution, Older Man/Younger Woman

Chapters: 2, 3, 4 (WIP)

AO3 Link

For @whatishowedyouinthedark because she wondered when we were going to get a Pretty Woman AU. Well, my dear, that day is today.

• $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ •

Chapter One: If I Got Me a Wealthy Man

Feyre tried not to let the dread and panic choke her as she walked down the street.

Everything had been fine until that text. The one from her landlord informing her that no, she could not extend her late payment any later, and yes, she would be facing eviction if she didn’t cough up the now three thousand dollars she owed for both this month’s and last month’s rent.

And, at any other time, this might’ve been doable. Difficult, but doable. Normally her sisters were there to help pay their fair share of the rent and cover for each other any time one of them was a little short. But now that Elain had moved out to live with her boyfriend, and Nesta had disappeared to lord knew where again, their little sister had suddenly found herself on the hook to cover everything herself.

And she was struggling.

She was already working two jobs and even then she was just barely getting by. Even if she managed to fit in a third job somehow and started today, by the time she received her first paycheck she would’ve already been booted onto the streets.

How did one even make that kind of money in a few days? Become a hit man? Did she need to become John Wick for a night? She briefly considered drug dealing…until she realized that she didn’t actually know any illegal drug suppliers. Which was, you know, probably important.

She ended up going with the next best (and illegal) thing.

Which was how she ended up here, on the street corner on the bad side of town, wearing the shortest, sluttiest thing she could find in Nesta’s closet. After all, how difficult could it be for a nineteen year old to find some horny old men to pay her for sex?

Rather difficult it turned out.

Three hours in and she was now beginning to regret her hasty decision. Three hours and she hadn’t seen a single man wander past and give her so much as a creepy stare. Instead, she’d had the local corner shop owner ask her four times in the last hour if she wanted to come inside.

“You look cold dear,” the woman insisted for the fifth time as she closed up shop for the night. Feyre suppressed a shiver as the early spring air gusted over her bare legs.

“I’m alright,” she said while trying not to let her teeth chatter. That probably would’ve been a dead giveaway that she was not, in fact, alright. God, why hadn’t she thought to bring a coat?

Because coats hide the goods, that infuriatingly rational part of her brain supplied.

Not that anyone besides Mrs. Nosy had seen the goods the entire time she’s been out here.

“It’s fine,” Feyre continued. “Really. I’m just waiting for a friend.”

This might’ve been convincing if it hadn’t been the exact same story she’d given this woman every time she’d asked. Said woman looked at her disapprovingly, but seemed to sense she wouldn’t be winning this battle and so left with a parting, “If you say so dear.”

Forty-five minutes later, Feyre wondered where she’d gone wrong in her life. If it hadn’t been apparent before that she was ill-dressed for the weather, then it certainly was now that the sun had set. It had to be near freezing.

And still she hadn’t seen hide or hair of a single horny man ready to throw money at her. She’d barely seen anyone out here really, save for passing cars and the odd homeless person muttering to themselves. God, had she picked the wrong day or something? Did she miss the memo? Was there a prostitute group chat she wasn’t a part of that told everyone which street corner was the busiest? Did prostitutes even have group chats?

These were the questions she was asking herself when he appeared.

“Excuse me, do you know the way to the Four Seasons?”

Feyre startled.

A man had joined her under the flickering street light. A man who was talking to her. And asking for directions.

A handsome man.

…Maybe even too handsome.

“Oh, umm…” she blinked at him stupidly.

“I’m sorry to ask, but I seem to be a bit lost. I swear I was downtown an hour ago but now I’m not really sure how I ended up here. I’d just call an Uber but unfortunately I left my phone at the hotel so…” He smiled at her sheepishly as if to say, ‘what can you do?’.

Feyre studied him thoughtfully. He was tall and impeccably dressed. He certainly looked like someone who could afford to stay at the Four Seasons so that part of his story was likely true.

Which also meant…the wheels started turning in her head.

“…And what’s that worth to you?”

It was cruel. Normally Feyre would’ve just walked the poor man to his hotel herself or offered for him to use her phone….but she was desperate. And from the looks of his shiny shoes and expensive peacoat…he could afford it.

The man looked at her then. Really looked at her, with her ill-fitting cheap dress and haphazard attempt at gaudy makeup…and something suddenly seemed to click in his brain.

“I see.” And he did. His entire demeanor had changed. Where once he had seen a young college student who could give him directions now he clearly saw her for what she truly was.

A whore.

Even if only for the night.

“Do you?” Feyre lowered her voice as she straightened her spine a little. Anything to make herself appear older. Sultry. Unconcerned. As if she weren’t about to be homeless in five fucking days.

“How much do you charge?”

The question caught her completely off guard when it absolutely shouldn’t have. This was exactly why she was here. And yet, when actually faced down with a living, breathing man ready to pay for her services she couldn’t think of a single fucking number. What did sex workers usually charge? It’s not like she knew a lot of prostitutes she could ask. And what if this was the only man she managed to snag in the next five days? She needed to get as much out of him as she could. She needed…she needed…

“Three-thousand dollars.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she desperately wanted to take them back. Was she fucking insane? Nobody was going to pay three-thousand dollars for her!

“Three-thousand,” the man repeated. His face was infuriatingly blank. Was he angry? Upset? Convinced this was all a joke?

“Yep,” Feyre confirmed, figuring she was already in too deep. Might as well commit.

After all, the worst thing he could say was no…and then she would have to go ask that nice homeless man who’d been circling the block for tips on how best to survive on the streets.

“Per?”

She blinked. “…Purr?”

Like…like a cat? Was that something he was into? Was he seriously asking if she would be willing to purr in his lap like a kitten for three grand? Because if so, the answer was definitely-

“Per hour? Per night? Per week?” The man clarified, face still blank.

“Oh…” She suddenly wished lightning would strike her dead right then and there. “Umm, per night?” It came off as a question even though she hadn’t meant it to.

“Three-thousand dollars for the entire night.”

Feyre was deeply annoyed by his ability to make his questions not sound like questions. As if question marks didn’t even exist in his vocabulary.

“That’s…what I said.”

Maybe she needed to revisit the drug dealing idea again. Surely that was easier than standing in front of this stranger and negotiating her worth like she’d never done it before. Which…she hadn’t. But still.   

He stared at her for a moment with those intense dark eyes of his. She couldn’t really tell under the flickering light, but she thought they looked almost…purple? Violet maybe? Which was stupid because neither of those were actually a real eye color.

“Tell you what,” the man said pulling his hands out of his pockets. In his right he held a leather wallet that looked as if it were brand new. He plucked several bills out and held them out to her. Her heart stuttered when she saw the number 100 on each of them. “I’m afraid I don’t have three thousand dollars on me at the moment, but I do back at my hotel. I’ll give you five-hundred now if you agree to take me there and the rest when we get back to my rooms. Do we have a deal?”

Feyre felt faint.

She hadn’t actually believed he’d give her three-thousand dollars! That was just…a Hail Mary! A dumb, impulsive shout into the void!

“Just to get you back to your hotel?” She asked, eyeing the bills greedily.

“Just to get me back to my hotel,” he confirmed.

She took the money.

• $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ •

As they made their way downtown, Feyre thanked her past self for having the foresight to wear her ratty converse instead of squeezing her feet into Nesta’s too-small heels. Not exactly the sexiest shoes ever, but they were saving her from the blisters she likely would’ve had by now after walking the last six blocks so she wasn’t about to complain. And it wasn’t like men were going to be staring at her feet all that much anyway. Or, at least, that’s what she had assumed.

Because he was staring at them.

She’d caught her strange companion (Rhys, he had introduced himself as shortly after she’d snatched the money out of his hand) staring at her shoes at least three times now. If she were anywhere else, doing anything else she might’ve confronted him about it, but he had also just paid her five-hundred dollars and was planning to pay her another two and a half grand more once she got his ass back to his ritzy hotel so she was willing to bite her tongue.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my coat?” He asked her for the second time in the last twenty minutes.

And even though she was freezing her tits off she was just stubborn enough to give him the same answer she had last time.

“I’m sure.”

He kept doing that. Offering her things. Asking her questions. Normal questions. Like how old she was and how long she’d lived here.

It was kind of freaking her out.

She had lied of course. She couldn’t exactly have some strange man knowing who she was or where she lived. This was only temporary after all. What would Nesta think if she knew her baby sister had dressed up like a hooker and propositioned a man on the street corner? What would Elain think? No, better none of this got back to them. Better she got her money from him as soon as she deposited him at his destination and then went home and forgot all about this hare-brained adventure of hers.

Thankfully they wouldn’t have to travel much further. The buildings had gone from old and neglected to shiny and new rather quickly. Once upon a time Feyre used to come here often to visit her father in his swanky office in the financial district, but those days had come to a very sudden close after the market crash. Now she was lucky to come here whenever her job at the local bistro needed extra help on the weekends.

She spied a passerbyer give her a judgmental look as if to illustrate just how much she no longer fit in here anymore. Or, you know, it was probably the skimpy dress she was wearing in freezing temperatures. Who could say really?

The entrance to the Four Seasons wasn’t all that difficult to find amongst the busy streets of downtown. Honestly, Feyre sort of wondered how on earth Rhys had managed to get lost when all he’d really done was walk in a straight line away from his hotel for about a mile. It almost felt a little unfair to be taking so much money from him over something he could’ve easily figured out himself but, then again, any man willing to throw three-thousand dollars away over something so minor probably deserved to get scammed.

The man in question stared up at the entrance and then back at her curiously, as if surprised she had actually kept her word and done what he had asked. Then, without a word, he opened the door and waltzed inside.

She stood there for a moment, not sure what she was supposed to do now. Did he expect her to follow him up to his room? Or did she wait outside and hope he returned with the money? Thankfully, he saved her from fretting for too long because she saw him reappear, holding the door open for her.

“Aren’t you coming?” He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say ‘well?’.

She supposed that was as good an invitation as any and followed him inside.

The lobby was enormous. That was her first thought. Her second thought was that she absolutely did not belong here. Everything looked so…expensive. And white. Spotlessly white. White walls. White marble floors. White furniture and decor. White, white, white. Rhys, however, seemed completely unfazed by all the luxury around him and headed straight for the gold elevator, Feyre scrambled after him and desperately hoping her grubby shoes weren’t leaving dirty shoe prints on the pristine floor (they were).

They were quiet on the ride up and she watched the number slowly rise and rise and rise the higher they went. Just how far up was his room? When she saw the number go past forty her mind really started to boggle. What on earth was past the fortieth floor?

The fucking Presidential Suite, it turned out.

No wonder he was willing to throw thousands of dollars around for some directions. This place had to cost at least three times that just for a single night!

Rhys, oblivious to her inner turmoil over his clearly considerable wealth, wandered in almost aimlessly, dropping his coat on the back of a chair and loosening his tie as if returning home after a long day at work.

“Make yourself comfortable. Give me a moment and I’ll grab the rest of your money.”

Your money. As if it were already hers and he was just returning it to her.

She just nodded dumbly, but he was already disappearing around the corner into what she assumed was the bedroom. She tried to do as he said and briefly sat down on the couch…only to shoot back up moments later, afraid to sully the spotless brocade with her…with her what? The miasma of poverty she carried with her?

“Here,” Rhys reappeared carrying a large stack of crisp hundred dollar bills and handed them to her without fanfare. “That should be twenty-five hundred but feel free to double check. I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of what you’re owed.”

He was right. She should count the money just to be safe. She needed it to keep the roof over her head after all.

She didn’t.

Because it suddenly occurred to her…she had the money now to pay this and last month’s rent…but what about next month’s rent? And the one after that? She still had to cover Elain’s portion of the rent now that she had moved out. And Nesta was still M.I.A. and thus unavailable to pay her half. So where did that leave Feyre? Stuck covering the entirety of their fifteen-hundred dollar rent bill all by herself for the foreseeable future, that’s what. She needed some sort of buffer to fall back on while she waited out the last few months on her rental agreement and Nesta figured her shit out.

She needed more money.

And, she thought as she looked up at the handsome man before her, it looked like she might just have someone willing to give it to her.

“Is that all you want?” She tried to sound sultry but Feyre had a feeling she sounded less like Jessica Rabbit and more like Velma from Scooby Doo. Awkward. And incredibly young.

Rhys gave her a strange look. It wasn’t turned off exactly, but it also wasn’t exactly turned on. He seemed…searching. Like he was trying to figure her out.

“Isn’t that all you want?” He asked, turning the question around on her.

“I could…do more,” she said clumsily. “For a price of course…”

He didn’t answer her, just hummed thoughtfully. She pressed forward, hoping he just needed more convincing.

“You could have me for the whole night this time. I can do whatever you like…”

“How old are you?”

The question caught her completely off guard. He had already asked this on their walk and she had already given him an answer. She’d told him that she was twenty-four but it was clear now that he hadn’t believed a word she’d said. And, looking up at his inflexible features, it was even more clear that this time he wanted a real answer. A truthful one.

Feyre glanced down nervously. Would he continue if he knew her real age? Her real name? Her real reason for being here? Or would he kick her to the curb?

She really, really needed the money.

“Nineteen.”

He nodded, as if this were what he’d been expecting.

“And is your real name Vivian?”

“…No.”

“And would you rather I called you Vivian?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered meekly.

“Why were you on that street corner Vivian?”

She hesitated. Did she tell him the truth? She’d already divulged more than she likely should have…but he was being strangely sweet to a random stray he’d found on the side of the road. So what was the harm in giving him at least a little more? Not all of it though. She wasn’t that stupid.

“I was going to be evicted and needed the money. I still need the money.”

“I see,” and just like before, he did. He wasn’t pitying exactly, but he had a look of understanding. “And do you want to have sex Vivian?”

The answer to that question should’ve been ‘no’. She absolutely should not have wanted to have sex with a much older man just so she could pay her rent. It was wrong. It was illegal.

And he was really hot.

And nice to her.

“Yes.”

Shockingly, he didn’t immediately turn her down. He just said, “Are you sure?”

“Will you be paying me?” This was, after all, why she was here. Even if she also selfishly wanted to know what he looked like without his clothes on. If she had to earn her paycheck on her back, at least it was underneath somebody who wasn’t a completele asshole and looked like he stepped out of a perfume commercial.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Then I’d rather earn my money, if you don’t mind.”

He just nodded.

And that was that.

• $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ • $ •

They didn’t immediately jump into bed, as it turned out.

As she soon discovered, there were negotiations to be made. Prices to agree upon. And limits to discuss. Honestly it felt a lot like that Fifty Shades movie she had guiltily watched on her laptop and then told everyone she hadn’t seen.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?”

Truthfully, her sexual experience was rather limited so it was hard for her to answer that question. She’d only ever had sex with two people a handful of times before deciding that maybe she just wasn’t that into it. But he was also paying to use her body so it really didn’t matter what she was into. Just what she absolutely wouldn’t be able to stomach.

“Just…no kissing.”

In hindsight, it seemed like a stupid rule but it felt right to her. Sex was sex. But kissing made it…real. Like feelings were involved.

He didn’t argue. Only gave her a curious look before moving on.

Finally, he handed her an even larger stack of bills than before.

Five-thousand dollars.

Between that and the money he had given her previously, she was officially eight-thousand dollars richer. It was enough to make anyone feel a little faint.

“So you just…have this kind of cash on hand?” Feyre blurted out, a little breathless.

It was still mind boggling to her that anyone would throw this sort of money around willy nilly, as if it weren’t life-changing. Because that’s what this was for her. It was a life preserver. He was saving her and he didn’t even seem to know it.

Rhys raised his eyebrows.

“Not always. Usually I just use credit cards.” She noticed he hadn’t actually answered her question but knew better than to push. He probably thought she was planning to rob him or something.

As if you aren’t already? Her brain screeched, still unable to process that anyone was willing to spend this kind of money just to get inside of her. If you asked her, she was worth like…a hundred bucks and maybe a pizza. Maybe. Not…eight-thousand fucking dollars. And for only the one night!

Feyre took the money and held it in her hands like a live grenade. It felt wrong to just stash this in her purse instead of immediately dashing to a bank or ATM to deposit it but she’d made an agreement and, damn it, she was going to stick to it.

“So…how do you wanna do this?”

By now, Rhys was lounging on the couch in the living area, watching her intently as if she were a fascinating creature and not a very broke and awkward teenager.

He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Whelp. In for a penny, in for a pound.

She sat on his knee and shifted clumsily, trying to find a more comfortable position, but Rhys fixed that quickly by pulling her against his chest so she could hear his heart beating against her ear.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, as if they hadn’t just spent the last forty-five minutes discussing exactly that.

“Of course.”

He could’ve touched her anywhere. Her breasts. Her ass. Between her legs. And yet it caught her completely off guard when he went for, not any of those, but for her hair.

He was…stroking her hair.

She went still.

Bit by bit she felt her muscles go lax and limp. She felt a bit like a cat being stroked into a nice, long nap. It was…nice. Soothing.

“Good girl.”

They were such simple words. So normal. A little condescending even. But god, they lit up her brain like a fucking Christmas tree.

Oh, she thought as gooseflesh broke out along her arms. So it’s like that then?

Feyre pressed her nose to his throat and filled her lungs with the scent of salt and citrus and expensive cologne as she tried to suppress the shiver that suddenly took hold of her.

She felt…restless.

Squirmy.

That hand kept stroking her hair, unconcerned with the bomb he had set off in her brain.

“Look at you,” Rhys murmured into her ear. “I knew there was a sweet girl under all that bravado.”

She felt his other hand skim down the length of her, the slope of her shoulders and the curve of her waist, before coming to rub innocent circles into her thigh.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” He whispered, petting her hair with one hand while his other finally began to sneak under the hem of her skirt. “Are you soft and wet for me?”

Her heart thumped against her ribcage like a hummingbird trying to fly free.

Oh she was certainly wet alright, a fact he soon discovered when she heard his pleased groan as his fingers made contact with the gusset of her panties.

“My good sweet girl. You need this don’t you?”

Feyre shivered as lust crawled through her veins like fire. He hadn’t even really touched her yet and she could already feel her heartbeat throbbing away in her cunt.

“Please,” she begged against his neck.

Those fingers petted her over her panties. Softly. Gently. Like she were a wild animal that needed taming. Her clitoris felt flush with blood and heat. Jesus, this was already hotter than anything she’d ever done and he’d barely even touched her. 

“That’s it…”

She just sighed.

Between one moment and the next she felt his fingers slip under her panties and brush against the curls there. Self consciousness suddenly gripped her. Should she have shaved?Didn’t men hate pubic hair? Her last two partners had. Perhaps there was still time to make an excuse and then go find a razor in the bathroom and-

“So soft for me here.”

Okay. So maybe he didn’t mind it so much.

His fingers sifted through her pubic hair until they found the burning seam of her. They dipped inside and she tried hard not to gasp when they brushed over the pulsing little bead of her clitoris.

“And so soft for me here too…” She felt ready to combust when two of his fingers burrowed their way inside of her.

His erection pulsed underneath her, hot and hard, but shockingly Rhys, unlike every man she’d ever met, seemed in no hurry to attend to it. Perfectly content to whisper in her ear and plunder her insides while he ground his palm against her clit.

“Don’t…don’t you want to have sex?” Feyre gasped against his throat.

She felt a gust of laughter against her skin. “My sweet girl, what do you think we’re doing?”

And then, just as if to prove his point, he curled his fingers inside of her.

In theory, Feyre knew what the g-spot was. She’d heard it spoken about in whispers in the girl’s locker room, as if it were a myth. She’d read about it in the romance novels she told Nesta she totally didn’t steal from her. And yet, none of that could’ve prepared her for what it felt like to actually find out that it was very real and ohJesusohGodohfuck-

Her body seized. Her legs kicked out. Her toes curled.

“There you go,” Rhys crooned sweetly, petting her through her orgasm. “Such a good girl. You’re so pretty when you come.”

She was shivering.

Why couldn’t she stop shivering?

Rhys lifted her as if she weighed no more than a kitten. Only moments later she found herself laid down upon a plush white bedspread. His room. He had taken her to his room.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” She whispered, suddenly sleepy.

“Is my sweet girl so desperate for my cock already?” He asked, amused. He pulled the covers out from under her and then laid them over her, cocooning her in a cloud of warmth.

“Why don’t you come over here and…uh…find out,” Feyre replied with a yawn.

“We have all night for that,” he pointed out as her eyes began to droop.

“Yeah…that’s true…”

Maybe he was going to let her nap and then wake her up later? It was getting late after all. And his bed was so very comfortable…maybe just a quick power nap first…

She was asleep long before he kissed her on the forehead goodnight.

[probably-writing-x]

Mi alma

Summary:

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any but please let me know if you think otherwise <3

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request, I loved writing it! Espero que mi español es bueno, puedo hablar y entender español pero no es mi idioma principal así que podría haber algunas problemas con las palabras. Entonces, se paciente conmigo por favor mis cariños <3

———

It was an odd feeling when you could feel someone slipping away. Like little pieces of them were breaking off right in front of your eyes, no way of escaping it. And, only when you realised, would the decision have to be made - do you let them go, or do you hold on and piece back all of the fragments you’d started to lose?

~~~

The phone had been ringing six times and still no answer, the same buzz buzz with every ring and not once breaking off to give you a familiar hello. He never took this long to pick up his phone. When he saw your face pop up on the screen, it rarely took him more than two rings to answer. No. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably just busy.

But the phone rings out again and there’s still no response. You hang up and set your phone down on the table, checking the time. Half an hour later than when Rafe had said he’d be here.

Had something happened? Maybe he was just held up and he’d be knocking on your door in no time to explain everything. But he was never late without reason, and your mind couldn’t let you stop overthinking it just yet.

It’s another fifteen minutes later when you get a text from Rafe and you’re sure you’ve never read a message so quickly in your life.

Can’t make it tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow

Is he serious? That’s all you get? Four unanswered calls, forty five minutes late, and this is all he gives you?

You and Rafe had been together since you were fifteen years old. That was three years ago now. You had practically grown into yourselves, together. You were graduating high school together, planning futures, it just worked. But recently, perhaps the last couple of months if you really thought about it, Rafe hadn’t been himself. He answered with shorter responses, he made less plans, he cancelled plans, he was distancing - you could tell. And you were certain it was the worst feeling you’d ever known; to feel like your love was slowly disappearing.

Your hands are trembling before you get a chance to stop them, and you clench you fists to fight back the feeling, letting out a shaky breath. Your friends would tell you it was naivety, or perhaps that you were just trying to convince yourself of something you knew not to be true - but you just knew Rafe, and you knew there was more to this than him just distancing. You knew he loved you. And you knew this wasn’t him.

~~~

The following afternoon, you were finishing up at the gym, and Rafe would always meet you afterwards so that the two of you could do something together. When you step out into the parking lot, part of you is so certain that he won’t be there. But, much to your relief, his truck is parked up in its usual spot.

“Hey!” You smile as you open the passenger door, “How are you?”

You lean over the space between your seats to kiss him, but he doesn’t turn his head towards you so you recoil with a slight flush to your cheeks.

“Is it okay if I just drop you home? I’ve got some stuff to do today,” Rafe says coldly, placing a hand on the back of your chair so that he can reverse out of the spot.

As his head turns to check behind him, you notice the tension in his jaw, and the darkened circles beneath his eyes like he is completely drained. He doesn’t make eye contact with you either, and you’re certain that any touch between the two of you would practically make him flinch away. You swallow the lump in your throat and fiddle with your hands in your lap.

“So, my Mom was thinking we could have a party next weekend, sort of a before-college kind of thing,” You explain, “I wasn’t sure at first but I thought it could be nice, we could invite some of our friends, a little gathering before some of us leave.”

You’d be leaving for college in a month, and you’d been accepted into Duke. It wasn’t too far away, and the plan was for Rafe to visit you as much as he could - you’d already bought him his own towel and toiletries and extra pillow for your room. He wasn’t going to college, his plan always being to go into work with his father. But you’d known that since the two of you had started dating and it hadn’t seemed to be much of a concern until recently. Until Rafe had started acting like the two of you were on a countdown towards the inevitable.

“I’ll have to check if I’m free,” He says coldly, looking deadset on the road in front of him.

“Well, it was just an idea,” You swallow the lump again, “I’m sure we could find a day that would work.”

“Yeah, sure,” Rafe says, not bothering to indicate into the road that led up towards your family’s home.

He pulls up in front of the gates and puts the car into neutral, still not tearing his eyes away from the road.

“Rafe.”

He doesn’t turn around.

“Rafe!”

His gaze flicks to you slightly but it still refuses to meet your eyes.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing, I’ve just got a lot to do today.”

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you won’t look at me,” You shake your head, “Or why you cancelled last night with no explanation. So can you tell me what’s happening or are we going to sit in this car in silence?”

He doesn’t say anything. You clench your fists to stop your hands from shaking, watching as time seems to slow down in the space between you. It’s like you’re looking at him but not seeing him. Like the boy in front of you was not the boy you knew, and you were searching for a way to bring him back.

“I don’t know, (Y/N).”

The pain inside of you seems to shift towards an anger then. You deserved to be annoyed. This was your boyfriend, and he wasn’t acting like that right now.

“Okay, well you let me know when you figure it out,” You grab your bag from the footwell, your hands shaking a little as they push open the door and you slam it shut behind you, hurrying towards your front door like you were practically running away from him.

Part of you is screaming at him to get out of the car and run after you, grab you and tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. But you instead hear the sound of the engine rev as it leaves the driveway, leaving an oddly uncomfortable coldness in its absence.

~~~

“Hola mama,” You smile tiredly as she comes through the front door, poking your head up from where you were laying against the arm of the couch watching Gilmore Girls for the past few hours, “Que tal?”

“Hola mi cariño,” She comes over and kisses your head, “¿Estas bien? ¿Rafe no está aqu��?”

“No, hoy tiene muchas cosas para hacer, pero no entiendo de verdad,” You sigh, pressing your head back down against the arm of the couch.

She squeezes your shoulder, “Ay guapa, los chicos son el problema - siempre.”

You smile just lightly as your Mom disappears upstairs, commenting something about how she was tired and would probably sleep as soon as she got to her bed.

It was dark outside now but you hadn’t checked your phone to question what the time was, your Mom coming home probably meant it was already past ten and so it had been at least five hours since you’d heard from Rafe. Your heart was aching for him to come back to you.

There’s only so much waiting you can do though, right? And you take yourself to bed soon after, willing the sheets to warm up without the feeling of his arms around you.

~~~

You’re not sure which part it is that wakes you up, the breeze sweeping through your opened window, or the sound of his feet hitting against the window frame as he clambers through. But you flinch awake and turn in bed, panicked, to see Rafe climbing through your window - the same way he had done when the two of you first got together, before your Mom thought it was acceptable for him to be staying the night.

“What th-“

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Rafe frowns, dragging a hand through his hair.

His eyes are tired beyond their years but he looks youthful and innocent in his joggers and sweatshirt.

“Of course you woke me, it could’ve been anyone,” You hiss into the dark, flicking on your bedside lamp to see him clearly.

It casts a shadow on his face that intensifies the circles under his eyes.

“Anyone? Who else do you have climbing through your window?” He smirks a little, like a piece of himself coming back, “Should I be concerned?”

You roll your eyes and drop down onto your back, turning away from him in the bed, “What are you doing here Rafe?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” He says, kicking at a nonexistent mark on the carpet underneath his feet.

You don’t say anything, the same anger still coursing through your veins like it had done when the two of you were in the car. You deserved to be angry. You deserved to be angry. You deserved to be angry.

“Just get in and go to sleep,” You mumble, practically burying yourself against the pillow under your head.

It never felt like this between you. Even in your biggest arguments, and there had been a fair few when you were young, it was never like this. Rafe pulls off his jumper and leaves it on the back of the chair at your vanity, peeling back the covers on the other side of your bed so that he could get in beside you. He’s silent and so are you, the sound of the mattress moving seemingly too loud in the enclosed room. You feel him close behind you, his arms moving cautious like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you. Rafe draws one arm up, over your waist, and pulls himself closer to you so that his chest presses against your back. His arm is loose and uncomfortable like he’s not sure where to place it anymore.

You swallow down the nerves in your throat once again, taking in a deep, shaky breath. He seems to feel you settle a little and pulls you tighter to him, burying his face in the crook of your neck, your hair fanning over his features. With a deep inhale, it feels like another piece of him comes back to you, slowly but as if it had never even left.

“I love you,” You whisper into the air, perhaps not even to him but just to the moment, to the pieces of him that were returning.

“I love you.”

It’s a relief. A confirmation that your heart needed. Explanations could wait for another time. Now? His arms were around you and his heart was returning just a little back to yours.

~~~

When you wake, the tiniest surge of panic runs through you, but it halts almost instantly when you feel the weight of his arm still around you, his head still exactly where it was hours before.

You shift slightly and he moves his head away, looking down at you with eyes as tired as they were the day before. Wiggling around his hold, you turn yourself to face him.

“Did you sleep?” You whisper, moving a hand up to run through his hair, messy over his head.

He nods but doesn’t say anything, his eyes floating shut like he’s trying to savour your touch.

You don’t want to say anything that will drive him away, like your words have the capability to flick a switch in him that hadn’t existed before the last few days. Your fingers remain in his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek, slowly. Rafe tilts his head and kisses your palm, his fingers wrapping around your arm as he starts to trail kisses down your hand, your wrist, your forearm, up towards your shoulder, up towards your jaw, pausing before they reach your lips.

It’s you that seals the contact, moving your head the slight inch forward to connect with him. You both barely move at first, settling just there like that’s all you need. His hand cups your cheek and his other hand wraps around your waist to draw the small of your back impossibly closer into him. Your voice hums against his lips before he pulls away from you, dropping his forehead to lean against yours, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Can you tell me what’s happening Rafe?”

His face contorts into something you can only explain as a wince, like it pains him to even consider it.

“Please,” You frown, “These past couple of days you’ve been scaring me, I feel like I’m losing you.”

He pushes his forehead into you just a little more like he’s drawing more of you into him, “I don’t want that.”

You pull away enough to look into his eyes, “Then tell me what’s going on. We can talk about this.”

Rafe relaxes the tension from his shoulders and rests his head back down onto the pillow just a few inches away from you, turning onto his back and tucking an arm underneath his head, staring up at the ceiling. You stay laying on your side, watching his movements, his features, the way the morning light hits his eyes.

“I went out with the boys two days ago, before we had plans, when I texted you saying I couldn’t make it,” He begins, “We just had a few drinks, started talking about the future and everything. And they were talking about you, and Duke. And you know I hate when they talk about you anyway but they just didn’t stop. They were just going on and on about how things are going to change when you go away and I stay here. And it made me realise…”

He pauses and turns his eyes to look at you momentarily before pulling away.

“You’re going off and you’re going to do all of this stuff at college, and I’m so proud of you, but I-“ He clenches his jaw, “I can’t be what you deserve, and maybe I never have been.”

“What are you-“

“You deserve someone that’s going to give you all of the same life and energy that you give to people. The same brain, the same kindness, the same patience,” He shakes his head, “I’m not like that. I don’t know all of this intellectual stuff like you do, I have a short temper, I don’t think about other people as much as I think about myself, I get angry, I lash out, I-“

“Rafe, stop!”

He pauses, looking at you like the words hadn’t just come from your mouth, a tone he’d never heard slip past your lips.

“Where is this coming from?”

“You’re going to Duke and you’re going to meet-“

“Rafe.”

You force yourself to sit up in the bed, looking down at where he lays beside you. His eyes look down, making them almost look shut.

“I’m going to Duke, we knew things were going to change, okay? We prepared for that. But what is all of this? You suddenly don’t think you’re good enough for me?”

“I don’t think I ever have been, (Y/N), I’ve just not wanted to admit it,” He looks up at your then, his adam’s apple bobbing as he does.

You bite down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, drawing every ounce of strength you could muster so that you could make it through this without crying.

“Why do you think that? Do the past three years mean nothing?”

“No, god, no,” He shakes his head abruptly, “I just mean…”

“Rafe, I don’t care about what your friends think. They’re not us. If they want to say that we won’t work, they can think that. Does it change anything between us?” You furrow your brows, “Why can’t you see that? I’m here, and I’m always going to be here, for as long as you tell me that you love me, I’ll be here to show you that I love you too. Do you know that?”

He nods just slightly, just the slightest drop in his head as enough of a confirmation to you.

“Do you know that I love you, Rafe?”

He closes his eyes then, like he wants to savour the words.

You settle back down to lay against the mattress, tucking your arm under your head to match his exact position, staring up at the ceiling as you tear your eyes away from him.

“A este hombre le quiero besar la tristeza y el miedo para ver si entiende que lo quiero por lo que es y no por lo que pueda esperar de él.”

Rafe leans up onto his elbows then, looking at you with the slightest of smiles on his lips, “I must’ve missed that in Spanish 101.”

“I want to kiss this man’s sadness and fear to see if he understands that I love him for what he is and not for what I can expect from him,” You comment, turning your eyes to him.

He drags himself to you, lifting up onto his arms and turning over so that he hovers above your form, “Tell me it again.”

You hum and bring your hands up to cup his face, pulling him in so that you can kiss every inch of his features, speaking the words again between each break in contact.

“Por lo que es y no por lo que pueda esperar de ella,” Rafe finishes for you, dipping his head so that his lips connect with yours longingly, safely.

“Te quiero con todo mi alma,” You remind him, drawing him into you so that you can wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tightly like it’s the first time you’ve seen each other in forever.

You feel him smirk against your neck, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, “Tell me it again.”

[blogurlnotfoundwhoops]

Doctor Who x Reader

PLEASE READ HERE :)

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP Wednesday

A longish one for a WIP but have been toying with this conversion for a fair old while and it contains one of my most persistent headcanons for Scott.

Set in mine and @sofasurf’s ‘Scott finds a friend he can talk to’ story but you don’t need much of the backstory for this part only that ten years beforehand he saves her in Bereznik but thought he’d failed and made things worse and got her killed.

Is fairly dialogue heavy and that might need some adjustment and it possibly suffers from not including the first half of the conversation but that is less well progressed is is more backstory dependent so I’ll leave it out for today and… <insert more disclaimers and self deprecating blathering here> eh… *throws words*.

If you read it me know what you think? Do you agree?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“So… we covered my fatal flaw and I think we’ve established I would be a very tragic but ultimately tedious Greek hero. Your turn… what do you think yours might be?”

“Probably the same as yours.”

“Uh uh no, that’s cheating, you don’t get to steal mine. Pick your own. Or… I guess you could pick Dare but I warn you I have some pretty evil ideas for those.”

He spun the question card between his finger and thumb for a few moments then placed it down carefully and picked up the cafetière and topped up their coffee cups in a transparent effect to buy time. Estera was surprised to see him absent-mindedly adding a lump of sugar into his. Scott never had sugar! She was about to question this deviation but he suddenly spoke up:

“Alright I’ll tell you but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“Because I’m not good at explaining these things and it might sound like something it isn’t. But it’s not that. It’s just… people tend to panic.”

“At this rate you’re more likely to freak me out with the disclaimers, Blue. But sure, I promise.”

He emitted a short sharp laugh and then downed half his cup of coffee, his eyebrows twisting comically as he registered it tasting sweeter than usual.

“I live in the here and now.”

Not what she was expecting. Estera did her best to maintain a neutral expression so as to not give him reason to think she wouldn’t keep her promise.

“Ok. Tell me why you think that is a flaw.”

His lips twitched silently as he appeared to be about to speak then caught himself three or four times before:

“I mean I don’t have a very clear concept of anything beyond now. I don’t imagine my future like most people seem to… like my brothers do.”

She went to speak but held back sensing there was more.

“I’ve never really pictured myself as old, for example. Or with kids… I do love kids, you probably figured that out by now… but I figure I had my shot at parenting with Alan and Gordon and… well they turned out ok I guess so… you know… I did my bit there.”

“I think you’d be a be a great father.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it! Sorry that sounds weirdly big headed… um… I mean I think it would come naturally to me but I just can’t… see it? I don’t think I’m destined to see it.”

“Why not?”

“Dunno. Just always had the feeling I wasn’t here for the long haul? Live fast die young, you know? Had a bit of a hedonistic streak in my late teens which, uh, the less said about that the better I think. But then after… when I thought you…”

He paused and downed the rest of the cup and returned it to the saucer with a clatter than made them both flinch

“Sorry! Uh, when I thought you were dead, that I’d failed you by storming into a situation like the arrogant flyboy I was” he held up a hand to forestall her objection “And I still didn’t die out there against all the odds… Well, I figured that whatever time I had left I had to use it well. I wanted to make up for failing you by helping as many people, doing as much good as I could. Actually thought about training as a paramedic but then Dad came up with the Big International Rescue Idea and everything suddenly made sense.”

Estera was struggling to keep the promise about not freaking out.

“Are you saying you’re only planning to be here as long as you are useful?”

“No! No, see, that’s not what I mean. I would never… I have no desire to, stop. That’s not what it is. I know I’m needed. I can do good. I want to be here. I’ve not got a death wish, whatever Virgil yells at me down the comm.”

Estera suddenly had a vivid recollection of the voice in the cave, before Scott had cut him off. At the time she’d thought the almost-growl she heard over the comm had betrayed barely-contained irritation and had wondered a little at the professionalism of that but now she’d met Virgil… now she really thought about it she wondered if in fact the tension in his voice had been fear.

“So why would you say that is your fatal flaw?”

“I guess maybe it means when I have a decision to make in the moment I only make it based on that moment. Can I make a difference or not? Can I save them or not? I believe my brothers have other considerations, dreams they instinctively hold on to, which complicate those decisions.”

“I see.”

She sipped her own coffee and watched him slump into his chair.

“You think I’m crazy don’t you?”

“No.”

“But…?”

“But… nothing. I can see how your logic works and it matches what I’ve seen of your personality and your actions.”

“Mmmmm and you’ve told me off for it before.”

“I have.”

She nudged the last scone in his direction and then cleared her throat.

“The part I don’t agree with is that not being able to see past the short term means you won’t have… or don’t deserve a long term. I wonder if you’ve been telling yourself a lie all these years because you were afraid of not being able to predict every outcome of your actions. So you told yourself that if you don’t see it it doesn’t exist so it doesn’t matter.”

He frowned, but didn’t disagree.

“What future do you see for your brothers?”

He snorted “Oh, Virgil will have about twelve children if he has any say in it.” His shoulders relaxed as he smiled fondly “Gordon too would love a family I am sure of that. John… I think when space gets too much for him, academia will call. Alan… I don’t know yet. He’s a little too much like me” Scott’s jaw twitched slightly “but I’m trying to encourage his other interests, he likes racing cars and his gaming stuff. And he’s smarter than any of us so he could be anything he wanted. Maybe he’ll make incredible discoveries or be an explorer.” He chuckled affectionately “Or he’ll go entirely rogue and be world president or something.”

“I’ll remember to stay on his good side then!”

“Probably for the best.”

Scott chuckled and the smile remained on his face but seemed to leave his eyes. He had stopped eating the scone but was rapidly turning it into a pile of jammy crumbs. Estera reached over and took hold of one of his sticky hands, resisting the urge to pull out a wet wipe to deal with it.

“Ok how about this… can you imagine yourself watching them achieve these dreams and cheering them on? Being crazy uncle Scott who allows the kids to do all the dangerous stunts their parents would ground them for… buying John’s incomprehensible books to display in your bookcase and pretend you totally read and understood, and cheering Alan on as he’s inaugurated?”

The genuine smile crept back on to his face. “Yeah.”

“Hold on to that then. Next time you’re out. As a reason to stay. Until you find your own.”

He looked up at her in surprise and appeared about to say something when he was thrown nearly off his chair by a small human cannonball slamming into his side.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

The Disappearance of Bobby Krauser

[Another transformation story, I've been having a lot of ideas, so there could still be a lot more stories coming in the following days]

Today might have just been the worst day for Bobby, certainly the worst for a good while. The day had started like any working morning did. Alarm went off at 4am, went to his kitchen to make a coffee, sort out his backpack with food and tools he'd need for the 12 hour shift. He'd been in this routine for 2 and a half years, work was at a factory that made food products for some Belgium-based brand. 48 hours a week he worked per block, four days on, four days off. The pay was good too, even though he was still a temp worker after so long. He'd managed to finally move out of his mother's house at the age of 27 thanks to the money he was earning from the constant work. In many ways it had made his life better, but as a side effect it had made him into a bit of a workaholic.

Bobby had gone to work, same as usual, started working in his section of the factory at 6am, his job was to watch the conveyor belts and set the machines right if something went wrong and the alarms sounded, like a carton getting stuck on a diverter or a cardboard box not being taken off the pile correctly. It was easy since he'd learned all there was to know about the job. Only trouble was he'd tried applying for a full time job over the past year, three times.

During his first work break he sat in the canteen, he was approached by one of his co-workers Kyle. 'Morning Bobby, how are things?' Kyle asked. 'Hey Kyle, I'm good thanks, what's up?' Bobby asked, looking up from his phone. 'So I know you've been wanting that machine operator job for a while now' Kyle began. 'Only for about a year now mate' Bobby chuckled. 'Yeah, see I told a friend of mine about the job… and they've taken him on' said Kyle. Bobby's smile fell at the mention of this. He looked at Kyle. 'I'm really sorry Bobby' stammered Kyle. Bobby sighed and shook his head. 'That's fine I guess, I've only been passed over 3 fucking times now' said Bobby passive-aggressively, looking to his phone. 'Look man, my friend really needed a job and I mentioned it to him' said Kyle nervously. 'And that's fine, really. I'd probably have done the same. Well I can't really do anything about it now can I, this has to be fine' grumbled Bobby, not making eye contact with Kyle. Kyle looked down sheepishly. 'Anyway, I've gotta go. See you around' said Kyle hopefully. Bobby waved his hand and watched Kyle as he left. Bobby sat back in his chair and sighed. 'Fucking hell' he breathed, looking at the ceiling. He looked over at the clock and saw he was needed back in the factory in the next 5 minutes. He packed his stuff up, washed his hands and returned to the factory. The rest of the shift went as average as it could be, around 3pm his team leader, Luke entered the factory and asked Bobby to come with him to one of the meeting rooms. In the room was one of the ladies from the agency he worked for. Bobby and his team leader sat down.

'Right, Bobby. Long story short, we're letting you go' started Luke. Bobby's face sank. 'Why?' asked Bobby, sitting up in his chair. 'We've come to realise you're not happy here' said Luke. 'Luke, I've been here 2 and a half years, I've never been late, if I didn't like it here I'd have found work elsewhere long ago' said Bobby firmly. 'We've also had another applicant for the job you applied for and we've got a really good feeling about him' stated Luke matter-of-factly. 'So you're just going to throw 2 year's training down the toilet for some guy off the street?' asked Bobby, trying not to get over-infuriated. 'Bobby, we're grateful for all you've done for us, but we just don't need you anymore. You can leave straight away, we'll give you a week's pay' said Luke. Bobby looked to the agency lady and back to Luke. This was unbelievable. 'Well can I at least finish my shift today, we clock out in 3 hours and I'd hate to leave my team in the lurch' said Bobby. 'No Bobby, you can leave right now' said Luke firmly. Bobby got the hint, they really were kicking him out the door. 'Susan here will help you find other work, I'm sure you'll be fine at your mother's for now' said Luke. 'I moved out of my Mum's 2 years ago Luke, how do you not know this? You're leaving me in a flat with no secure job future' argued Bobby. 'Oh… well, you'll find something better' said Luke. Bobby rolled his eyes. 'Well, guess I'd better go get my things from the locker room then' said Bobby, getting out of his chair and leaving the room. On his way to signing out, he saw Kyle and decided to busy himself with the clocking machine. 'Bobby, I just heard, I'm really sorry' said Kyle. Bobby looked to Kyle, he really wanted to say what he thought of him, but shook his head. 'It's alright, I just hope your friend's as good as everyone's making him out to be' said Bobby. 'But it's just you have your flat and all' said Kyle. 'And the agency will find me other work, don't worry about me Kyle. That's my job now' said Bobby, and he proceeded to leave the factory building. On his way home he checked his phone, a few of the other factory workers had caught wind of what happened and had messaged him on Facebook. It cheered him up, being asked to keep in touch and them passing on their anger about how Bobby had been handled. But he put his phone away, he needed to do something about this predicament.

Arriving home his first thought was to fire up his computer and print off some CVs, then head into town and look for work. So he put the kettle on and got to work on doing that. He popped a handful in his backpack and headed into town. It was funny, his work life had just vanished, 4 hours ago he had a job, and now here he was keeping an eye out for shop windows that said 'Staff Wanted'. Maybe he could've just gone online and saved some trouble but he just needed some fresh air to clear his head. He stopped by a few shops and supermarkets, those that would accept CVs got one, but most places told him to apply online. It really was a sign of the times, back when he'd started his work career it felt a lot more normal to meet someone in person at a shop and hand them a CV. Approaching one alleyway, he came across a small building that used to be a café that he used to frequent before it shut down about a year ago. The windows were darkened and a sign above it read 'Enrique's Escapist Emporium'. Bobby reckoned this place can't have been open all that long, but there was a 'Staff Wanted' sign on the door and the sign said 'Open' so he shrugged his shoulders. Why not.

Walking inside, he heard a small bell ring as he opened the door. The room beyond was dimly lit, and he could faintly hear a radio playing near where the serving counter was. Squinting, Bobby could see someone sitting there and began to make his way over. The person sitting at the counter was caught up in a crossword, funnily they looked as if they belonged to a gym more than a dainty little shop. They put down their reading glasses and crossword and smiled at Bobby. 'Good afternoon, how can I help you?' they asked. 'Uh, hi. My name is Bob, and I'm looking for a job' said Bobby, smiling. The guy smiled and chuckled. 'Well if that's not the most Quentin Tarantino thing I've heard all day' the guy remarked. 'Have you got a CV on you, Bob?'. Bobby paused for a moment and then took off his backpack, rummaging through it and handing one to the man. Who took it and looked. 'Bobby Krauser' said the man, reading the top of the paper. 'Oh yeah, that's me' said Bobby. It was strange, this person seemed well-mannered and decent, but something was making him feel nervous. Maybe it was the lack of light in the room. 'Have a seat please, Bobby' said the man, gesturing to a small wooden chair. Bobby took a seat and waited in anticipation. 'Oh please, make yourself comfortable. I'll begin your interview shortly' said the man. Bobby took off his backpack and coat and tried to calm his nerves.

'Tell me about yourself then Bobby, you from around here?' the man asked. 'Oh yeah, I was born at the hospital on the other side of town' said Bobby. The man smiled and nodded. 'And you're… 28, 29 maybe?' he asked. 'Yeah, 29. Reaching the big 30 next year' said Bobby, chuckling. The man looked at him and smiled. 'So, you've been a cleaner, a kitchen assistant and a factory worker then?' asked the man. Bobby nodded. 'Oh I also worked at a game shop for a few months, so I did retail for a while' added Bobby. The man nodded and placed the paper down, putting his hands together and taking a good look at Bobby. 'So then Bobby, do you have any questions for me?' he asked. 'Uh, well is your name Enrique? It's just I know the shop sign says Enrique's Escapist Emporium' said Bobby, pointing to the front door. 'Yes that's correct' Enrique smiled. 'Ah, have you had this place long?' Bobby asked. 'We opened a couple of weeks ago, moved from up country but I rarely stay in one place' Enrique answered. 'I see. So what is it you do here exactly?' asked Bobby. 'Here we sell whatever the customer wants' said Enrique vaguely. Bobby looked on confused. 'That seems to be a broad range then' chuckled Bobby nervously. Enrique shook his head. 'Not at all. May I ask you a question, Bobby?' asked Enrique. Bobby thought for a moment. 'Sure, go ahead' said Bobby. 'What do you want?' Enrique asked calmly. 'Well I want a job if you've got one going' replied Bobby, shrugging his shoulders. Enrique chuckled softly. 'I like you Bobby, you're funny. I mean what do you really want, out of life?' he asked. Bobby thought for a moment. 'Take your time' said Enrique reassuringly. 'I… I want to be happy again' said Bobby, looking to the ground. This response made Enrique raise his eyebrows. 'How do you mean, Bobby?' asked Enrique.

'Well, I think in recent years I've become a bit cranky. My last job just let me go a few hours ago. I moved out of my Mum's after years of her telling me I needed to get a proper job, then I needed to get myself a place to live. I just wasted 2 and a half years as a temp worker at a factory, my friends that I have tell me I've become passive-aggressive. I've got a lot going on in life and… I just wish I could be happy, like I was back in school' Bobby lamented. Enrique looked at him sadly. 'Well from what I've seen Bobby, you're funny, friendly and kind-spirited' smiled Enrique. Bobby smiled. 'Thanks Enrique, but you've only just met me. I was here to make a good first impression' said Bobby. 'But you've been genuine. I can tell you've been through a lot, but you seem to bottle that away well' said Enrique observantly. 'So do I qualify to work here then' asked Bobby, trying to bring the conversation back around to the reason he came in. 'I suppose I could take you on, but I feel you're more in need of your happiness first' said Enrique, standing up. Bobby came to realise that Enrique was a pretty tall guy, easily 6'3, towering over his standing height at 5'2. Bobby had the chance to see he had a very muscular build, biceps and triceps galore, he wondered for a moment if Enrique had to turn sideways to get through the front door when he entered the shop. Enrique walked off to the back room, Bobby could hear him rummaging through the shelves. He wondered if he should get out of there, he began to feel nervous again. Their conversation had gone unexpectedly deep. What exactly did Enrique mean by 'giving him his happiness'.

Enrique returned with a small box. 'Sorry to have kept you waiting Bobby, it's still pretty cluttered back there' Enrique chuckled. He placed the box on the counter and sat back down. Bobby and Enrique looked at the box, then Bobby looked to Enrique who was looking at Bobby searchingly. 'Bobby, I'm going to give you a choice and I really want you to think hard about this' warned Enrique. Bobby nodded nervously. Enrique sighed and began. 'Think of this as Pandora's Box, Bobby. Your happiness lies within it, however it comes with a price' said Enrique. 'Oh, just let me get my wallet-' began Bobby jokingly, but Enrique shook his head. 'Bobby, for the short time I've known you, you strike me as a lovely, wonderful person. You are probably loved and cared for by so many people. Even if you don't see it yourself, there are those that genuinely care for you. You open this box and Bobby Krauser ceases to exist. You'll become someone new, you might be happier, but you won't be beloved Bobby anymore' said Enrique ominously. Bobby looked to the box, then back to Enrique. 'And what's the other choice Enrique' asked Bobby, sweating nervously. 'You remain Bobby and continue as Bobby. You may even work here and travel as Bobby. The choice is yours'

Bobby considered his options, a fresh start at life as someone else. He could leave his old life behind, leave everything and everyone he knew. He'd sometimes thought about how if he'd died, he'd love to know who would mourn him. But on the other hand, him actually vanishing would make that thought a reality and he thought of his family, his friends near and far. The alternative was to live as himself and just pray that life magically got better over time. Bobby looked at the box, looked to Enrique and placed his hand on the box. Enrique sighed sadly but nodded in acceptance. 'Very well then, you'd better open the box' said Enrique. Bobby curiously lifted the lid and peered inside. There was a single, dusty purple bottle with a cork in the top. He picked it up, there was no label on it. He looked back to Enrique. 'What is this Enrique?' Bobby asked. Enrique folded his arms and looked to it sadly. 'It's a gel, it'll help you become who you're going to be' said Enrique. He stood up and went to the front door, turning the sign to say 'Closed' and locked the door. 'You'd better come to the back room' Enrique said. Bobby stood up and followed Enrique.

Inside the backroom was a bizarre sight. There were shrines lining the walls with pictures of various nameless people, surrounded by candles and garments that presumably belonged to the framed people. 'People come here seeking escapism, Bobby. Much like yourself. They may not wish to be remembered, but I never forget them' said Enrique, looking around. 'So, when do I stop being me?' Bobby asked. 'That bottle. Remove your clothes and rub it's contents all over your body' said Enrique. Bobby shrugged and did as he was told, removing his shoes, socks, trousers and t-shirt. He opened the bottle and began to rub it's contents all over him. Soon he was all lubed up and glistening in the candle light. He turned to Enrique who had also removed his clothes and gelled himself up. They both looked at each other for a moment. 'Such a beautiful soul. Farewell Bobby Krauser' said Enrique. Bobby looked at him confused. The next thing Bobby knew, Enrique's big, slimy hands grabbed his jaw and prised his mouth open. He moved his right hand into Bobby's mouth and pushed down, to Bobby's surprise, his neck began to expand as Enrique's fist and forearm slid down into his chest. Bobby's knees buckled and he was kneeling on the floor before the giant man. Bobby looked into Enrique's eyes as he placed his left arm into the gaping void that was now Bobby's mouth. The sound of stretching elastic filled the room as Enrique raised a foot and lowered it into Bobby's mouth. The foot and leg snaked down, to fill out Bobby's skinnier leg, making it bloat out three times it's previous size. Bobby was amazed, this was a crazy way to go out. But if he was going to become Enrique, he just knew he was going to love it. Enrique lifted his second leg into Bobby's mouth and moved him around to align with his own body. By now Bobby's feet and legs were darkening, expanding and squeaking, becoming massive. Bobby already had Size 11 feet, but with Enrique invading them, they shot to a ridiculous 18. His legs thickened like tree trunks and Enrique began to pull Bobby's body upwards. As Enrique continued to slide into Bobby's body, everything just got bigger. Bobby's relatively flat ass become like two big watermelons and his already six inch dick became an absolute monster of a serpent with two basketballs hanging below it. His belly compressed against Enrique's impressive washboard abs and his arms became enormous. By now Enrique was nearly entirely inside Bobby, all that was left was to match up the chin and lift his head over his, completing the transformation. Enrique stood in the middle of the room, huffing and panting, an absolute hulk of a man. Skin still bubbling and contorting, Enrique grabbed his dick and began jacking it hard. Picturing Bobby's kind face in his mind, he roared the most animalistic roar as he shot a huge load worthy of several giants. The cum pooled on the floor and began to shape as a new form emerged. A new man was birthed from the warm sludge, he stirred and gasped as he took his first breaths. Enrique stood against the wall panting and sweating as the new man began to explore his tanned body. He was a bit more built than Bobby had been, dare he say even more handsome. The man's eyes were bright with new excitement and amazement. He looked at Enrique, who was starting to look more like how he did before he slipped into Bobby and gave him a hug.

'Enrique, thank you, thank you so much' he cried. Enrique smiled. 'Here is your happiness, as promised' Enrique said. The man smiled at Enrique. 'I think from this day forward I'll go by Gabriel. Always liked that name' said Gabriel. 'Well Gabriel, the world's yours now. Be who you want to be. Go start your new life' said Enrique. He found some clothes out for Gabriel and put back on his own clothes. They both left the backroom and Enrique unlocked the shop door for him. Gabriel felt the wind on his new face and sighed with contentment. He sauntered off and Enrique returned to his shop. He looked to the counter and saw Bobby's backpack and coat. He sighed and picked them up, looking towards the back room. They were mementos now, belonging to a man that no longer existed.

-

A few months have passed since the strange disappearence of Mr. Bobby Krauser. Many have suspected suicide, but no body can be found. Those that remember him hope that he may one day return and remember the best of times they can recall with him. Police managed to find his phone inside an old and long-abandoned café shop that closed a year ago, why it was there is a mystery, though no other leads can be found in this investigation. It has been discovered that Mr. Krauser's bank account had been emptied around 7pm the day he lost his job at a cashpoint within his hometown. It is unknown where Mr. Krauser went following his unjustified suspension from his previous job, but if he's out there still, we hope he has found peace. -DCI G. K. Ralser

[kai-anderson-whore]

Sweet serial killer (James patrick march x fem reader)

Summary: you are a ghost of the hotel cortez since 2019 and you only just heard of devil's night

Warnings: mentions of murder, serial killers

A/n: this was rubbish I had it in my drafts for a month or so

You walked into the elevator of the hotel cortez these same walls you walked through since 2019 where you were killed by your boyfriend.

You had both gotten into a huge fight about him cheating on you and he killed you not knowing that you would still be roaming the hotel he planned to stay for a day to clean up the mess but he also never got to leave because of what you did to him.

During your time in the cortez you became friends with Sally a heroine addict who died in the 90s when iris pushed her out the window.

The countess was also fond of you, you both would have late night drinks at the bar till all hours in the morning since you were both well dead you never felt it the next morning.

You would often have a girls night with liz and the countess with glasses of bubbly and having a laugh, but one night you had an invite to something devil's night making you frown your brows.

"Hey liz" you said by the bar gaining her attention "yes dear?" She asked cleaning a glass in her hand "What's devil's night here james invited me" you asked you had met James patrick march before numerous of times.

"Well well well you my dear must be doing a very impressive job here if u got an invite" she chuckled if you were alive she probably would have been frightened but since you were dead she wasn't.

"A good job of what I haven't done anything" you laughed confusingly liz only shrugged "go ask him maybe he'll tell you" she said you finished the last of your drink before going to James's room to asked him.

Walking through the abandoned floor of the cortez made you feel nervous you only been to this floor once when you first died but hadn't returned.

Finally you made it to his room it was empty "James?" You called looking around the room it was still relatively clean for an abandoned room you walked into it spotting the old record player it reminded you of the one that was handed down in your family for years.

"Ah y/n for what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today" the bright voice of James march beamed behind you  giving you a bit of a fright "James can I ask you something" you asked making him raise an eyebrow at you.

"Of course" he replied.

"What's devil's night?".

"Ah devil's night you have been in my hotel for what three years almost four and you still hadn't heard of devil's night" he chuckled you felt a bit embarrassed not knowing what it was at all "well my dear devil's night is the one night a year I get the best serial killers and have well a get together" he shrugged.

Now you were even more confused you weren't a serial killer at all yes you killed one or two people but not enough to make you one.

"But why did I get an invitation I'm not a serial killer" you asked handing him the invite he took it in his hands

"Well you see y/n I'd like you to accompany me to my event plus Elaine would love to have another female there" he said.

"So like a date?" You hesitantly asked making him chuckle "well if that's the way you want to put it yes like a date" he said.

A few days later it was finally devil's night you and James grew a bit more closer those past few days and even accompanied him on his kills.

"I'm nervous liv how is this" you asked straightening you dress "you look incredible" she smiled touching up your red lipstick soon enough it was time for you to go to the room where the event will be in.

You walked into the room to find people already there eyes on you "well well well who do we have here" a woman said smirking walking up to you "I'm Elaine wuornos" she introduced "I'm y/n y/l/n" you smiled.

"I'm John Wayne gacey and thanks Jeffrey dahmer" the other man introduced 'shit is this really happening' you thought.

"Come sit next to me dollface" Elaine said she was Flirting with you "no Elaine we sit at our assigned sets and y/n is next to me" James said appearing out of no where "Hey suck my left tit Clarke gable" she laughed you couldn't help but laugh aswell.

"Now everyone is here let's begin" James said Elaine put on a record 'fade into you by mazzy star' playing it was one of your favourite songs she and Richard were dancing.

"You alright dear your not scared are you?" James asked you shook your head "No not at all they're nice" you shrugged despite what they had done, but to you they were welcoming.

"John old chap how are we" James beamed getting up to greet the last guest to arrive

"Great" John replied.

James handed you a glass of absinth you took a sip almost gagging at the taste 'how the fuck can they drink this?' You thought.

The night went smoothly you chatted with the notorious serial killers dahmer was shy, Elaine teased him that he had a thing for John.

Soon enough it was time for dessert which you didn't know meant that you had to kill someone, sure now with the help from James you were a serial killer a dead one.

Miss evers brought someone into the room "thank you Miss evers" James said pulling his knife out wiping it with a napkin "y/n since it's your first devil's night shall you do the honours?" James asked handing you his knife "Okay" was all you said.

Elaine put on a new record for the third time tonight all eyes were on you now waiting to see what you would do.

You took the knife plunging it into the person's neck almost killing them instantly everyone else joined in taking turns with their usual methods of killing

James called miss evers to clean up as the guys bet their goodbyes soon after leaving you and James "I'm impressed you got on so well with everyone dear" he said A cigarette in hand

He offered you one which you accepted "well I guess I'm one of you now" You chuckled

"A sweet serial killer" James smiled

_________________________________________

[rpf-bat]

For the late night asks:

“…I thought you forgot about me.” “I’m sorry. Today has been… a lot and I– I wish I could have called you sooner.” Johnny/Joel or Johnny/Samy

Sorry this ended up taking a day or two. 😅 It’s Johnny/Samy, and it’s 981 words.

Johnny sat listlessly on the couch and stared at his phone, wishing that it would ring. Samy was in Laukaa tonight, a three-hour drive away. His band was opening for Children of Bodom at the Peurunka Areena.

I should be happy for him, Johnny thought with a guilty frown. That’s a huge venue. Probably one of the biggest venues Lost Society has ever played. I should be grateful to Alexi, for giving them that opportunity.

Instead, Johnny was feeling lonely. This was the first night of a tour across Finland, that would take Samy away from home for the next four weeks.

Come on, Joonas, he reminded himself. It’s not like this is the first tour he’s gone on, since you started dating him.

It was, however, the first tour he’d gone on, since Johnny’s own band had broken up.

In the past, their tours had often overlapped. Johnny couldn’t be lonely, when he was also on the road every night, with his three best friends. And his travels often took him further away. Santa Cruz had been to the US three times, while Lost Society had only been there once.

But even when there was a 13-hour time difference between us, Johnny sulked, I still called him after every show.

Maybe it was his pride that was hurting. He was the older of the two men, and up until recently, he’d been the one with the more successful career.

But now I have no career at all.

When he’d come home from the airport, with a broken nose and a broken spirit, Samy had assured him that it would be fine - that he could provide for the both of them, until Johnny got back on his feet. That had been seven months ago, and Johnny still had no idea what he was doing with his life.

Instead, he’d thrown himself into the role of the doting boyfriend. Waking up early every morning to cook Samy breakfast. Cleaning the house while Samy was away at band practice. Making sure his guitars were tuned perfectly, just in case he wanted to practice some more when he got home.

His whole life for the last half a year had revolved around Samy, because he had nothing else left anymore. And now Samy was gone, and he had no idea what to do with himself.

What was your plan, anyway? Johnny asked himself, wanting to tear out his long hair. Be his stupid little house-husband forever? You should be looking for a real fucking job, and….

He was stunned out of his self-loathing thoughts, when the phone suddenly rang.

“I…I thought you forgot about me,” he confessed in a tired whisper.

“I’m sorry,” Samy sighed, on the other end of the line. “Today has been…a lot, and I..I wish I could’ve called you sooner.”

“What happened?” Johnny asked.

Samy sounded stressed out - not euphoric, like he usually did, after a good show. Johnny wanted to kick himself, for only thinking about his own problems, and assuming that his boyfriend was having the time of his life without him.

“My head hurts so bad,” Samy complained. “It was difficult to get through our set, when I was in so much pain. But, I didn’t want to disappoint our fans.”

“Are you coming down with something?” Johnny wondered, concerned.

“No,” Samy insisted. “That’s not it.”

“Then….what is it?”

“I’ve been trying to, um…to not drink before shows anymore,” Samy explained.

“What?” Johnny blinked. “Really?”

He and Samy had been drinking buddies, since….well, since before Samy could even legally drink. They’d attended countless parties together, and always staggered home together happily, leaning on each other for support. The first time they’d hooked up, had been after a night of drinking. So had the second. It had only been after the third time, when they were both sober, that they’d actually talked things out, and decided to start a serious relationship.

Drinking was just part of the Finnish music scene’s culture, and up until recently, he had never really questioned it.

“I thought I could just stop, and it would be fine,” Samy went on. “But, I feel like shit. My stomach has been upset all day, and I’m sweating like a pig. My heart feels like it’s going to burst.”

“Those are withdrawal symptoms,” Johnny realized. He’d seen them before, when he’d poured Archie’s stash of booze down the sink in their hotel bathroom.

“I didn’t think you could have withdrawal from beer!” Samy confessed. “I thought that was something that only happened to people who did, like, hardcore drugs and stuff.”

“It’s a drug, like any other,” Johnny shrugged. A drug he himself hadn’t been able to kick.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough, to keep doing this,” Samy admitted. “Maybe I should’ve waited until after the tour ends, to make any big changes to my lifestyle. I mean, everyone else is partying right now, and I kinda feel left out. You know how Alexi and Janne are.”

“If you can’t do it,” Johnny assured him, “I’ll still love you just the same, Samy. I never asked you to quit.”

“I know you didn’t,” Samy sighed softly. “But…I just don’t ever want to disappoint you, like he did.”

“Who?” Johnny blinked. “Archie?”

“Yeah,” Samy replied. “His drinking got out of control, and he couldn’t be the frontman his band needed him to be anymore. Honestly, the idea of losing my band someday terrifies me.”

“You’re nothing like him!” Johnny cried. “You never will be. You’re a happy drunk, Samy. You don’t go around punching people when you’ve had a few too many, and you’ve never been late to a gig, or…”

“Still.” Samy interrupted him. “I…I just want to be the man that you deserve.”

“Honestly,” Johnny mumbled, his eyes misty, “Sometimes I think I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

[primal-slayer]

 Brian Krause talks Charmed career

In today's Sci-Fi Blast From the Past, actor Brian Krause looks back at his work on the long-running WB supernatural TV series Charmed and playing Leo Wyatt.

It was back in April that filming on the hit supernatural series Charmedcame to its natural conclusion after eight years, but for actor Brian Krause, who played Leo Wyatt, his involvement in the series isn’t quite over yet. He spent this Monday morning in late August in a studio recording commentary for the eighth season Charmed DVD release, in particular his character’s penultimate episode, Vaya Con Leos.

“Me, Brad Kern [executive producer] and Cameron Litvak, the writer of that episode, have provided background commentary for the 45 minutes of that story,” explains Krause. “It’s basically the three of us recapping the show’s eight years on the air as well as talking about Vaya Con Leos**, the birth of the episode, what it was about, the emotions that went along with making it, and how it could have been the last time we saw Leo. It was wonderful to see Brad and Cameron again and be able to share our thoughts about the whole experience.”**

“What probably sticks out most in my mind about my first time stepping onto the Charmed set was the nervous energy I had of being around Shannen, Alyssa and Holly in a professional venue,” recalls Krause. “I’d known them for a couple of years, but we had never worked together. So I just remember being very nervous because they knew me as their friend Brian, but had never seen me act in person. There I was now having to kind of step up to the plate and wanting to impress them and yet get the job done and not have to worry so much about what the girls might think.

“I’ll never forget that day, though, and the look in Shannen’s eyes of, ‘Now don’t mess up.’ That’s what I remember most; how professional she was about it all and how good she wanted the series to be. She put the ‘pressure’ on to make it a success because she took a great deal of pride in Charmed and the work. Shannen just had a different way of going about things than Alyssa and Holly. It was a positive one, though, and it stuck with me for the whole run of the series, so I give kudos to Shannen for her professionalism.

“When it came to playing Leo in those early episodes, I guess one of the first things I had to get used to was working in the Sci-Fi realm. I mean, I’d done [the feature film] Sleepwalkers a few years before, but that was the extent of my experience in that genre. Also, I had the challenge of playing a real guy who was not quite a real guy. On top of that there was the great unknown. Was Leo going to stick around, or was he just a fleeting love interest for one of the girls? So the trick was to try to be likable enough for the audience to want me to stay and also be a good enough actor for the show’s leads to want to keep me around.

“The dynamic that I especially liked early on was that my character had this secret that no one really knew about. As the story went on, Leo was magical and then he wasn’t for a while. At one point, I wasn’t even sure if he was good or bad. If you were bad on Charmed you got killed, but if you were good that was a good sign. In the beginning, though, no one really knew what Leo was, so for me the question was do I play him as dark, light or slightly ambivalent? In the end we went for ambivalent, and that seemed to work,” he chuckles.

After three years of Charmed, Shannen Doherty decided to leave the series. Her character of Prue was killed off, and in season four, the Halliwell’s half-sister/half-Whitelighter Paige Matthews (Rose McGowan) was welcomed into the Charmed One’s fold. “The show’s dynamic changed quite a bit in year four,” says Krause. “I’ve talked with a lot of fans about it, some of whom stopped watching, while others started watching for the first time.

“Shannen’s character was a straightforward, demon butt-kicker and she and her sisters were hardcore witches in the first three seasons. When Rose joined the show, everything kind of lightened up a bit. The Paige character was very quirky and fun-loving, and I think by virtue of bringing her in to replace Prue, it did change Holly’s and Alyssa’s characters and dialed up their emotional levels on the show. So we went from being this purely demon butt-kicking show to one where it allowed us to show a more personal side of these girls’ lives.

“As far as Leo was concerned, he didn’t interact much with Prue, but he did with Paige, especially at the beginning. Being that she was part Whitelighter, my character sort of showed her the ropes. I was pleased about that because it involved me more in the storyline as well as brought out more of Leo’s big brother attitude with the girls.”

“Overall I was happy with how the Leo/Piper relationship was written, but I also think it developed somewhat quickly,” says Krause. “They were dating and then all of a sudden they were married and before you knew it they had two kids. In real life I suppose that eight years is long enough for all that to happen, but in the TV world it seemed like there was some stuff we missed. Events happened off-screen and not in front of the audience, and we would have to explain what people missed in the way of dialogue in the episodes.

“As an actor I always wanted to show more of Leo and Piper together with their family, but after all it was a series about the girls. I was just pleased to have the part I had in the program.”

At the end of season five of Charmed, Leo made the difficult choice to sacrifice his life with Piper and their son Wyatt and became an Elder in order to better help humankind. A couple of years later another omnipotent group called the Avatars showed Leo that they had a better way to change the world into the ultimate utopia, so he joined their ranks. Unfortunately, their plan had one major flaw and it took the The Charmed Ones to set things right. For a while, Leo was able to hide his association with the Avatars, but the Elders eventually found out and he was stripped of his magical powers. How did Krause have to alter his performance to keep up with all these changes in his character’s life?

“There were different emotions I had to play based on Leo’s situation,” notes the actor. “As an Elder, he was like, ‘OK, I’m a pure being. Everything is great. I love life and am in control.’ When Leo went to the other side as an Avatar, it was out of the same core belief, which was his desire for wanting the best for his family and the world. Then when he was made mortal, Leo was bitter at first, but then felt he had finally been set free. So the through-line for my character never changed, but how he reacted was based on his been wronged or righted by the Elders, Avatars, demons, witches, etc.”

When the eighth and final year of Charmed finally rolled around, the WB Network cut back on the show’s budget, which meant that Krause’s work on the series would be limited to half the season. “That was a big shock and it changed my attitude a little bit as well as my passion for the series,” he admits. “However, when I began work on season eight I realized that negativity wasn’t good for me, the audience or the show. So I quickly got over that and decided, ‘Hey, I need to do my best work, whether I’m here for one episode or 22.’

“Season eight was a very emotional one for Leo. There was the ongoing adjustment to being mortal, dealing with his new role as Mr. Mom, and not being able to help out Piper and her sisters as much. Leo felt all those things and perhaps I felt them, too, based on my reduced involvement in the making of the show. So it was all right there and easy for me to play. That was all due to Brad Kern, who was very in-tune with me and the rest of the cast and wrote for our personal emotional levels and how they fit into the show.

“Brad always kept a close eye on all of us and was a big brother or father figure. He never asked us to do anything on the show if he didn’t feel we couldn’t emotionally handle it at certain periods in our lives. Brad made the right call each time and I thank him for every opportunity he afforded me in season eight to be as natural and believable as possible when playing Leo.”

Thanks to some clever cost-cutting moves on Brad Kern’s part, he was able to bring the Leo character back for the Charmed finale Forever Charmed. “Eight years of a series is a long time and there was a lot of reflection going on and plenty of emotions, especially on the final day of shooting when the Halliwell Manor was blown up,” says Krause. “I think everyone took a moment to stare at the burnt rubble and just couldn’t believe it. It was hard to swallow. The cast and crew really banded together and supported one another in order to get the work done without totally breaking down.”

Krause has no idea what the future holds for him either personally or professionally, but wherever life takes him next, he’ll be bringing with him a part of Charmed. “There are so many things that I learnt from many different people on that show,” he says**. “I grew both as a person and an actor and I’ll always be grateful for that**. We’ll see where I’m at eight years from now. Hopefully I’ll take away some positive elements from that span of time, too.”

[felicitysmoaksx]

You’re one of my favorite writers for Sarah/ Conner and I couldn’t pass up your advent writing challenge.

I would love to see your take on Sarah /Conner taking care of each other after those tough moments on the job.

Like Conner finding out that Sarah as the new intern in the psych department has to speak to the families of the dead and she’s just so exhausted and emotionally drained and he’s just there taking care of her being protective etc

Hi! Thanks so much for the kind words! So I took a version of your idea and went off the rails of what you intended. Also there is an ambiguous ending. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! This is set in my amnesia au, after Sarah is discharged and returns to work. But she still doesn't have her memories.

"It'll be fine," Connor reassured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as they walked across the parking lot to the ED. Her hand was firmly interlocked with his large palm. Whether this was to keep her from running away or not, Sarah didn’t know. There was a secondhand Deja vu running through her too and it was annoying that she couldn’t remember why. “I’ll be around the ED if you need me, which you won’t. But if I’m not around, you’ll have Will, Maggie, April, Ethan, and all of our other friends even if you don’t remember them yet.”

She only remembered two weeks into her ED rotation, so it had been Dr. Choi’s and Dr. Halstead’s idea for her to essentially redo the rotation in hopes of jogging her memory. Sarah didn't think it was quite that simple, but she didn’t have any better ideas, so she went with it.  

Her husband sounded so optimistic that she didn’t want to tell him otherwise. But there was a nervous tug in her stomach that disputed his reassurances.

Spoiler Alert: her stomach ended up being right.

[LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“Too bad, your medical license will be taken away before you even remember how to use it. Seriously, what fourth-year can’t do a groin line?” 

She would not cry. She would not cry. A tear slipped down her face and fell onto her hands as she kept her head low. She didn’t want to face any of the other three people in the room. Even if Dr. Marcel and Dr. Asher were defending her. (No, they weren’t defending her. They were defending their friend. They were defending the Sarah she was before the accident.) 

“Ms. Goodwin, we both heard it. Dr. Lanik was deliberately taunting her.” Dr. Asher explained, shaking her head. 

“What did I even do to him? Dr. Lanik?” Sarah asked, looking for Crockett to Hannah, and finally facing Ms. Goodwin. Both of her new friends exchanged looks, but it was Hannah who answered her. 

“I don’t think it was anything you did to him, Sarah. I think you’re just guilty by association.” The brunette blinked at the other woman’s words. 

“Guilty by association? What do you mean?” Hannah grinned sympathetically. It was a patronizing thing that people did now. Because she didn’t remember anything from the last four years. It grated on Sarah’s nerves and made her want to scream even though she knew everyone probably didn’t mean anything by it. If they even knew they were doing it in the first place. 

“It’s my understanding from Will that Dr. Lanik and Connor really do not get along.” 

…And she was being punished because she was married to-

“I’m here. I’m here. Sorry, got caught up removing a tumor from someone’s lung. What happened?” Her husband burst through the door and Sarah frowned as the familiar feeling of getting called down to the principal’s office worsened. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.” She hoped her voice didn’t shake and give herself away as she stood up from her chair and lied, “I was just telling Ms. Goodwin that today has been a lot for me so I think I’m going to go home.”

Thankfully no one corrected her. She met his eyes just long enough before she avoided them again. In her peripheral vision, Connor frowned. Then after a beat, he nodded. “Okay, just let me get my stuff then we can-”

“No, you stay.” Sarah was already shaking her head. Connor deserved one day where he didn’t have to take care of her, where he didn’t have to be shackled to her because of her amnesia. “I can take the bus. I checked the schedule last night just in case something like this happened.”

“Sarah, we’ll have you work the shift with Dr. Charles tomorrow. Give you a break from the ED.”

“Actually, Ms. Goodwin, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. If today has shown us anything, it’s that I’m more of a liability right now. If you need to fire me, I understand.” 

“Sarah,” her husband said softly, but she ignored him except to give him a sad smile. With a nod to everyone in the room, she passed Connor and patted his shoulder. He was still looking at her worriedly as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

It was only after Sarah was gone that Connor looked at Crockett, Hannah, and Ms.Goodwin in turn because his wife wasn’t acting like his wife. She looked like she was about to cry and she didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Okay, does someone want to explain what just happened?”

[maddieonthemovee]

May 29 - Nara

Today was probably one of the best days that I’ve had in Kyoto! Today we went to Nara. First, we stopped by Nara Park. I bought some crackers to feed the deer with, but it was a l it take scarier than I expected. We were warned that the deer would swarm you if you had any crackers, but I underestimated how bold they would be. I luckily only gathered about four deer, but I had to speed through all of the crackers so that they would leave me alone. I more so enjoyed watching other people feed them and looking at the deer that were just chilling and lying down in the shade of some trees. My friends and I took some pictures with the deer that were lying down, but I was still nervous that they would jump up or bite me or something, so I kept my photo time brief. The park was a lot bigger than I thought it would be, spanning several blocks, and I was surprised to see how freely the deer were roaming the area. Some were just walking along the sidewalk! 

Next, we walked to the Kasuga Takisha Shrine. There were some deer scattered throughout our path to the shrine area, some walking around and some laying down in the grass. Here, they have long paths with pillars that three times a year house lit lanterns. Unfortunately, we were not there at one of these three times, but they have a small room that is kept dark with a blackout curtain and is lined with lit lanterns. This seeks to replicate what it would look like outside with the pathways all lit up; although the indoor replica was smaller, it was still super pretty and calming. I bought a fortune that was rolled up and held in a small wooden deer’s mouth, so now I have a small token to remember the Nara deer by!

We broke for lunch, and I tried omelette rice for the first time! It was really good; I felt like it had been a while since I had tried new Japanese food. We reconvened with the group to head to Todaiji.  This temple was definitely the most impressive and awe inspiring. Its scale was ginormous; I couldn’t believe that this was only two-thirds of its original size. The bronze buddha was also huge. My friends and I were trying to think of an equivalent to its size in America, but the closest we got was the Lincoln Memorial. In general, I have enjoyed how interactive and engaging the shrines and temples have been here in Japan. At Todaiji, there were two main interactive elements. Inside the temple, you could try to fit through a hole “the size of the Buddha’s nostril”, and if you could get through, you would ensure enlightenment in your next life. The line for this was long, so I just watched a couple of my classmates try to get through. The second thing (the first thing I actually did) was that, outside the temple, you could rub a statue and then rub a part of your body that hurts or needs healing, and that it would be healed. 

Our group broke up for the day, so my friends and decided to go to Uji as it was on the way back to the hotel. Uji is renowned for its high quality matcha, so as a matcha fan, I was excited to say the least. I bought some matcha powder for myself and my friends at home who like matcha, and then I bought some tools so that I can start making my own matcha at home or at school. I bought a whisk and a measuring spoon. I was so tempted to buy a bowl too, but I was scared that it would break during the journey home. Instead, I’m hoping to find a set of bowls at either the Asian market I go to at home or the one I go to in Gainesville. One of my friends on this trip likes matcha as much as I do, so we both got iced matcha lattes to close out our short trip to Uji. They were so yummy! We headed back to Kyoto Station so some of my friends could get their Shinkansen tickets for their trip home, and then we headed back to the hotel to relax for about an hour. A couple of us met up later to go to an ice cream bar, and then we ended up going bowling at Round 1, which was a gaming complex with three floors of bowling alleys. I was not expecting bowling to be super popular here, but it seemed that everyone there was leagues ahead of me in terms of bowling skills. I wasted a couple hundred yen trying to win toys at claw machines on the ground floor, but we had to call it quits because the floor was about to close.  Before heading home, we went to McDonald’s. Tomorrow, my friends and I are spending our free morning/afternoon in Hiroshima. I’m looking forward to a meaningful last day in Japan :(

Academic Reflection:

I found it so amazing that the Daibutsuden held the record of the world’s largest wooden building, even though it’s currently only 2/3 of its original size. I remember learning about the Vairocana Buddha in AP Art History and how precise and important its hand positioning is, so I appreciated the opportunity to see something I learned about before UF so up close!

In the reading, I learned about how there are different bodies that reference different aspects of Buddhahood: the Transformation-body, Enjoyment-body, and Dharma-body. Vairocana, the Buddha I saw today, is the Dharma-body, which I read means the “truth-body” or “reality-body”.