#don’t worry about jed. he’s going to be fine i’m sure

[the-casbah-way]

Please tell me Dtl isn’t gonna end with Jed getting fired 😭

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Twenty Four: Unexpected

Mentions of: Dubcon/noncon themes, stabbing, death, and murder, etc.

A/N: some more pervy Johnny for you lmao

Tags: @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @moonshineinasippycup @stwbwwychan @vandeaad @the-fandoms-georgie

“I feel like we haven’t talked in forever. How are you? How is everything?” Rachel asked as the two of you exited the building together and walked to the parking lot.

“I’m good. Work has been pretty good. Jed is a great partner.” You admitted with a shrug.

“I’m sure he is. You guys getting along good?” She asked with a teasing grin. “Yeah- what’s that look for?”

“Nothing. So you guys are close?” You don’t like where this is going.

“I mean, yeah- but..” You scoffed when you noticed Rachel’s smug grin. She’s onto you.

“Will you quit it? He and I are just friends. He’s like a brother to me.” You lied.

Rachel laughed at that. “Bullshit. I’m not dumb. I can tell when two people are fucking, and you and Jed totally are. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. No judgment here.”

Before you could finish your conversation, the two of you split up, and she went to her car, while you walked home. You looked over your shoulder to make sure the coast was clear before you called after her.

“Jed and I aren’t- we’re not fucking, okay?! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night, babe!” She called back. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you walked off, trying to ignore how flustered she had gotten you.

It’s fine. She won’t tell anyone. At worst she’ll just keep teasing you like this. Even if it was annoying, there wasn’t much you could do about it.

—

Once you got back home, you changed your clothes and had a glass of wine to wind down. But you didn’t relax, no. You never relax anymore. How could you when you know he’s still out there, harming more innocent people? Jesse, Lucia and Nate all deserved justice. You weren’t going to rest until you got it for them.

As you ate your dinner, you stared at the bulletin board you put up on your wall, with pictures of Ghostface’s victims, reports of his last sightings, and anything you could find. You managed to make some connections as to where he would find his victims.

You did find quite a few that went to Walleye’s but there were still inconsistencies here and there. All you knew was that most of them were average people, middle class and normal, which makes it even harder for him to figure out who he’s after next.

You stared at the board for a little while, before sitting down on your couch, running a hand through your hair. With all the time you had been spending with Jed, you haven’t been able to focus much on this. But today, he was out sick, giving you more room to think about Ghostface, even if you didn’t want to.

With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the remote, clicking on the TV.

“Breaking news: Couple Marie and Carlton Thomas have been found dead in their home this afternoon.”

You stared at the screen in complete shock as a photo of them flashed onto the tv, listening as it continued. “The couple was found by a neighbor this evening when they noticed that their back door was open and their dog had escaped. They were stabbed to death, both having almost twenty wounds each. So the question we’re all wondering is: could this be another Ghostface murder?”

“We’re still figuring out motives, but the possibility is there. We’re working as hard as we can to catch this guy and all we can say right now is follow the curfew and lock your doors at night, and if you see anything suspicious, don’t be afraid to say something.” The sheriff said.

You couldn’t watch any more of this bullshit. You reached over and shut off the tv, sighing softly. Staring at the black reflection of the screen, you realized someone was standing behind you.

“Boo.” You sprung up from the couch, gasping in surprise. You turned on your heel trying to face him straight on. You moved so fast that you stumbled forward, causing him to catch you.

“Careful there, sweetheart, we don’t want you getting hurt do we?” Ghostface cooed in that same condescending tone. You tore yourself from his grip, glowering at him.

You stepped back into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and raising it threateningly. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

How did he even get in? How did you not notice him? He has been standing behind you while you were watching, and you were completely vulnerable. He could’ve easily killed you, but he didn’t. He was toying with you.

“Oh, come on, Dollface. Don’t be like that. I missed you. And from what I can tell, you missed me too.” He gestured to the bulletin board on your wall, before walking over to you. He took slow steps, like a predator ready to pounce.

Just because he didn’t want to kill you didn’t mean he didn’t want to hurt you..but you knew attacking him would only end badly. You lowered the knife slightly, but didn’t let it go.

He moved swiftly, grabbing your wrist and slamming it against the wall, making you drop the knife. “There you go. Good girl.”

“What do you want from me?” You couldn’t help but ask, angry and fearful. “What? Can’t we just have a nice little chat? You’re the one who pulled out the knife.”

He released your wrist, letting you go. “I think it’s time we catch up. You’ve been doing a lot lately, haven’t you? Had a lot of fun with your little Boy Scout?”

“Boy Scout? You mean-”

“Your little boyfriend? Jeb or Jed or whatever? The one who’s helping you write articles on me? Yeah, him. I’ve been watching you two..and you really seemed to be enjoying yourself, slut.”

You felt yourself grow flustered from humiliation and embarrassment. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Awww you want to protect him, how sweet. Don’t worry, toots. I’m not planning on it. As long as you behave, that is. Though I will say, I am jealous.” You felt his other arm hook around your back, the cool blade pressing into you and making you arch forward and into his touch, and his hand moved from your wrist to your chin, tilting your head upward while he examined your body.

“Such a pretty thing. I wouldn’t mind having you myself.” He pressed his knife into your back, forcing your waist to press against his, feeling his hardness.

He forced your shirt upwards, and you tried to stop him, but he smacked your hands away. He smirked. “No bra? How naughty.”

He eyed your tits, while you squirmed slightly in his grip, trying to get him to stop, but the harsh press of his knife and his groin managed to get you to still. His gloved hand caressed your breasts, before sliding down to your stomach.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna have some fun later.” You could hear the lust and smugness in his voice.

“What makes you think I would want to do any of that with you? I don’t even want to touch you! I hate you!” You hissed in disgust.

“Oh, I know you do. But you don’t have a choice do you? Not if you want your friends to live.” He leaned over and pressed his mask to your ear, his voice lowering. “You think Jed’s good? I’ll have you screaming and crying for me. And you’ll love it like the good little whore you are.”

He slightly ground his hardness against you, and you bit your lip to hold back a whimper. He removed his knife from your back, pressing it against your front instead. With the flick of his wrist, he cut your stomach, causing you to cry out.

“Just something to remember me by. Don’t worry, I’ll be back, and we’ll have fun very soon.”

He let you go, stalking off into your bedroom, and leaving out the side window onto the fire escape.

Yeah, you need to change your locks.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

Thank you so much for all the love so far! I had a feeling before the finale that this could be a great companion to Season 4, and I was right! Really, really hope you're enjoying it - I'd love to hear from you if you are!

The Escape Artist - Chapter 2

River Cartwright had reached the end of an equally challenging six months. Louisa placed a beer bottle down on the table in front of him and clinked the neck of hers against it. 

“You're drinking less.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, trying to.”

“Good. Catherine was one more bottle away from a full intervention.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he claimed weakly.

“Yeah Riv, you were.” She told him sadly. He didn’t meet her eyes, though at least the pity in them had lessened over the last few months.

“Cole seems to be coming out of her shell a bit.”

“Lamb’s taken a shine to her.”

“He’s a softy really.” River scoffed at Louisa’s comment. “He is. He was worried about you.”

“Right, course he was.”

“Fine, don’t believe me.” She shrugged. “It’s not until the shit hits the fan that we realise that we do actually like each other. If only a little bit.”

“Speak for yourself,” he knew she was right. He’d seen it himself when Lamb had summoned him to the pub. Underneath the biting remarks and veil of sarcasm was the backbone of Slough House. The reason none of them, despite their claims otherwise, actually tried or wanted to leave. Unless it was in a box. They all remained unwaveringly at his side. His treatment of Ella was a little more revealing though, similar in a lot of ways to his high regard of Louisa. Above all, regardless of their flaws - and there were many, many flaws - Lamb protected his Joe’s and though he’d never admit it, he cared for them.

“Want to know what I think?” She demanded, leaning forward on her arms to get in his face.

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I am. You’re angry, I get it,” he rolled his eyes and tried to move back in his seat away from her fixed gaze. “I do. I’m angry too, every fucking day. But River, you have to live. You have to allow yourself to have a life and friends - even if it’s just the dickheads we work with. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?” She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Just… just stop sodding drowning in this anger and loneliness and let us in. It doesn't matter who your father is, or what your mum did. It matters how you were raised, that's why you feel so guilty for putting him in a home.” Her voice cracked and he finally looked back up. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. He's OK, he's safe there and he will forgive you, got it?” He nodded silently and she slumped back in her seat. “Good. God, you’re such a knob.”

“Thanks.” He picked at the label on his bottle, “what do you make of Cole then?”

“She’s good, very good. Whatever happened at the Park must’ve been big to get her sent to Lamb.”

“I think someone’s following her.” He said quietly. Louisa frowned and leaned in again.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” River had lost track of the number of times he’d seen the figure at the bus stop. A cold shudder ran down his back as he recalled Jed and his bus stop watching ways. London was packed to the hilt with commuters, the man could be anyone he’d reasoned initially. But then, he couldn’t help but notice him every single time.

“Shit. Have you told her?”

“And say what? ‘Don’t want to freak you out, but I think you’ve got a stalker’?”

“Could be someone from the Park? You need to find out more about her.”

“Me? He baulked, “why not you?”

“You share an office with her. Be friendly.”

“I am friendly,” he grumbled into his beer bottle. 

“Be nicer. Give her those big eyes and cute smile. You never know, it might be a cure for loneliness.”

“Thanks for that,” he responded, mildly offended.

“I do mean it though, if you’ve noticed someone then we should keep an eye out.”

“Yeah, yeah we should. Think we should tell Lamb?”

“Probably better telling Cole first?” Louisa reasoned, sinking her beer.

*

“Earth to Cartwright?” He tore himself from the window to see Ella with her arms above her head trying to get a box of files down from the high shelf he’d put them on. “Any danger of you actually helping?” She’d leaned her whole body into the filing cabinets to stop the box from falling on her head, her voice muffled from leaning on her arms.

“Fuck, yes,” he dashed forward and reached from behind her to grab the box, squashing her further into the cabinet as he did so.

“Ouch, thanks?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He dumped the box on her desk.

“Cheers. Right, I need a coffee before I get started on that lot. Want one?” He dug around in his pocket and handed her a tenner, “I’ve got these,” she told him, pulling on a jacket.

“No, go on.”

“Cartwright, it’s fine, really.” She glared at him, ignoring the money. She had seemed better recently, he thought as he heard Shirley reeling off an order from the next room. As he heard the bottom door slam, he took up his spot by the window again and watched as the man at the bus stop started to follow Ella down the street. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet, he’d pointed the man out to Louisa though, who was also on alert. His phone pinged in his pocket, a message from Louisa who was clearly also wasting time at the window.

He’s followed her to the shop, we have to tell her.

Ella came back twenty minutes later with a cardboard tray of four coffees and a bag of doughnuts.

“My fucking hero.” Shirley cooed. Ella nudged hers and River's door open with her hip.

“Everything ok?” He asked as soon as she was in the room.

“Thanks for the coffee, Ella?” She filled in for him.

“Thank you. Is everything ok?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She frowned, sliding the tray onto his desk.

“Just… anything weird going on?”

“Apart from you?” He huffed. “No, Cartwright. I went five minutes down the road, ordered four coffees and a bag of doughnuts and then I came back. Nothing weird. Why?”

“I think someone’s following you.” He spat out quickly. Her eyes widened and the coffees nearly went flying as she rushed to the window.

“What makes you say that?” She asked, the fear in her voice evident. He watched her frantically glancing at the street below, taking in the faces of everyone milling around. Louisa had followed Ella and remained in the doorway. She scowled at River,

“Ever heard of tact, Cartwright?”

“You told me to tell her,” he said defensively and then turned back to Ella. “I thought I saw someone as you went to the coffee shop.”

“Are they down there now?” She demanded. When she realised he was nowhere near the window she stalked back across the room to him and pulled him by the wrist. “Look, are they down there? How long have you both known?”

“Cole, what’s going on?” Louisa asked carefully, making her way to the window.

“One of you tell me now, is he there?” she hadn’t let go of River’s wrist. “Please?” He scanned the street, the usual bus stop, Louisa peered over Ella’s shoulder to take a look as well.

“No. No they’re not there now. It must have just been a coincidence.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“I can’t see anyone either.” Louisa confirmed.

“You’re fucking spies? Cartwright, if you think you saw someone then you saw someone, right?” She dropped his hand and brought her own up to her mouth and heaved. “Fuck, I’m gonna -” she bolted through the door to the bathroom. 

“I don’t do puke, I’ll leave you to it. Since you’re doing so well at all of this,” Louisa waved a hand around disdainfully. 

“Thanks a lot, real helpful.” He muttered. He left Ella alone until the sounds of her retching had passed, then knocked gently on the door. 

“Got you some water?” The door unlocked and opened enough for him to hand her the bottle. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m ok. Thank you for the water,” her voice trembled.

“Is there anything I can do? I can get Louisa back?”

“No. No, there’s nothing either of you can do.” He took a seat with his back against the wall and waited, the door still closed between them. “You can go now,” she told him in a small voice. He didn’t move. When she finally opened the door, she nearly tripped over him. “Thought I told you to leave me?” She muttered furiously, a small hiccup giving away the fact that she’d been crying. She pushed past him to her desk where she retrieved a packet of chewing gum and shoved a couple of pieces into her mouth.

“Wanted to make sure. You know, you can let me know if -”

“Where the fuck are dumb and dumber?” Lamb’s bellow filled the corridors.

“Wonder who he means?” River asked aloud.

“Cartwright, I mean you and Cole. Arses up here now.”

“Now you know,” she shrugged. “You're dumber, by the way.” She pushed open Lamb’s door timidly and he looked at her for a long minute without a word. She brushed her hands over her cheeks, self consciously getting rid of any tears still visible. It took River clearing his throat for him to shift his attention.

“I want the pair of you to take these files to Molly.” He pointed to two wheeled boxes by his door. “Cartwright, get them downstairs. Cole, sit.” Once River had moved the boxes to the top of the stairs, he turned back to Ella. “Alright?” River heard him ask. 

“Yeah, think so.”

“Think? Don’t do too much of that. You’ll get an aneurysm.”

“I can only dream of such a happy ending,” she muttered.

“I’m serious, you’re not bringing shit to my door are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good, now fuck off before Cartwright gets lost on the stairs.”

“You give him too much credit.” Ella smiled at Lamb’s booming laugh as she left.

“How do you make him laugh?” River asked dismally.

“Told you, he likes me.” Between them, they got the boxes to the entry door and then onwards down the metal stairs and into the street. Neither of them acknowledged that they were both on high alert looking out for whoever River had seen. She felt him tense next to her and startled at the faintest graze of his hand in the small of her back.

“3 o’clock,” he muttered. She looked left. “That’s 9. Do you need a watch?”

“Do you need a slap?” She looked right instead.

“Green cap, blue jacket.” She didn’t acknowledge him. “Well?”

“No idea.”

“No idea what? Do you see him?”

“Is that who you -”

“What do you mean no idea?” He demanded.

“I mean I have no idea who he is. Is that who you’ve seen?” He nodded brusquely. “I don’t know him.” She confirmed confidently. Ella spotted a bus pulling up ahead and for the second time that day grabbed River’s wrist and pulled him with her. “C’mon, I’m not walking for an hour.” They wedged onto the packed bus, just about finding two seats together with enough space to squeeze the boxes in front of them. Their knees bumped together in motion with the bus all the way to Waterloo. With his thigh pressed against hers and his arm around the back of her seat to give them both some extra space, River felt Ella relax. He tried not to think about how comforting it felt to have another person leaning into him. He especially tried not to think about the twinkle he’d only recently started to see in her eyes. At Waterloo, he made her get off the bus and walk the rest of the way, across the bridge and down Millbank to the imposing Thames House building. Molly welcomed them quite literally with open arms.

“Ella Cole! My god, you look…”

“Terrible?”

“I do have some manners,” she scolded Ella. “But you are looking a little on the pasty side. How are you?”

“Doing better, thank you.” Ella glanced briefly at River who pretended to not be listening. Molly’s eyes twinkled in understanding.

“Good. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. How’s the lair?”

“Just call me batman, darling.” She swiftly turned her attention to River. “And you're looking better since I last saw you.” 

“Yeah. Molly, I wanted to apologise -”

“Don't you dare. It's not your place to apologise on behalf of that man, you did nothing wrong.”

“Lamb told you?” He guessed. 

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra, just for you,” she quoted. River stared after her as she turned her chair in the direction of the stacks. “Come on then you two.” She gave very strict instructions on which files to put where, putting them to good use. “Be a dear, Cartwright, and take these down to the last aisle please?” He blanched at the request but gathered up the files and took them to the furthest end of the room. “He’s a good lad really.”

“He’s not so bad.” Ella mused, putting her own files into much closer aisles. 

“Come back soon,” she ordered them as they stepped back into the lift to leave.

“Bye Mol, see you again.” River offered her a genuine smile which she returned. “She seems to like you. They all do.” He said to Ella as the lift closed. 

“I’m nice, not grumpy all the time.” 

“Are you… you barely said a word for six months? Are you for real?” He stared in disbelief.

“I just needed to settle in.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, and now I can’t get you to shut up.”

“Why do you have to be such a dickhead?” She nudged him with her shoulder, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“C’mon, I’ll get you a coffee to make up for the one you didn’t get to drink earlier.” They queued up at a coffee van at the side of the Thames. Ella, to River’s disgust emptied two sachets of sugar into hers.

“I need some sugar,” she explained as her phone rang in her pocket. “Back in a sec.” She moved away, over to the railings, and paced while she spoke on the phone. River watched the tension in her shoulders increase by the second. She seemed to close in on herself before his eyes and as she made her way back to the bench, she looked like an entirely different person.

“What is it?” She ignored him, picking up her coffee which shook in her hands. “Ella?” He asked quietly. She sighed at the sound of her first name falling from his mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” She glanced around the people nearby and then back at him.

“Apparently the bloke in the green cap is someone I should know.” 

“How’d you mean?” River frowned. He watched her shutdown, her good humour and the twinkle in her eye disappear.

“I can’t,” she looked around furtively. Almost fearfully. “I can’t explain. It’s complicated.” He recognised the walls immediately, identical to the ones he’d built. She got up from the bench and hovered impatiently, waiting for him. “Can we go now?” He followed her diligently as she marched back across the bridge to Waterloo and straight onto a waiting bus. She was more closed in on the journey back, he could see her recoiling away from him. She held her body taut so her leg didn’t brush against his. Outside Slough House, green cap, blue jacket stepped across them.

“Mrs Cole. I’m Danny, can I talk to you for a moment please?” He looked River up and down, “alone.” He added. 

“He said he'd sent you.” She said wearily, correcting her posture and standing straight.

“He called you. I'm glad he did. But this isn’t a conversation for your friend to hear,” he must have noted the fear in Ella’s eyes. “You’re perfectly safe Mrs Cole. He’d never want any harm to come to you.” She nodded once and turned to River.

“It’s ok Cartwright, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She told him firmly, he went to protest but she gave a tiny shake of her head. He did as she asked and turned to leave. Green cap, blue jacket took her elbow firmly and half dragged her into the nearest cafe. River waited out of sight in the doorway of the Chinese where he had a direct view of Ella in between the menus and posters stuck to the window. He had no intention of leaving, as she’d requested. She had her head in her hands and when she looked up at the man, he could tell she’d been crying. She shook her head, clearly responding ‘no’ to something she’d been asked but the longer River watched, the more hesitant she appeared. As the conversation looked to be wrapping up, River went to wait at the bottom of the stairs. When Ella rounded the corner and spotted him, she sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Thought I should stick around, in case you were in trouble?” He told her earnestly.

“I don’t need protecting, Cartwright.”

“Want to explain why some bloke who’s been stalking you just wanted a quick chat then?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, Cole. Something’s going on. You’re married, for one? And the phone call?” She brushed past him and headed up the stairs, leaving him to follow behind. She was scrambling around her desk, throwing her notebook, phone and anything else she needed into her bag like a woman possessed. “Cole, just stop a minute -” she went to dart past him between his desk and the filing cabinets when his hand came down on top, blocking her path. She flinched immediately, almost cowering from him, and suddenly it all clicked into place. He recalled every time she'd curled inward at raised voices in the office, the way she startled and jumped every time he - or anyone - was in her personal space, the eggshells she constantly seemed to be treading on. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't know -”

“You don't know anything. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.”

“Am I? Then why do you look so scared?” He moved his arm, clearing her escape route. “Ella,” he said softly, “I'm not going to hurt you. I never would.” She looked up from her feet, he could see the shame and embarrassment blooming on her cheeks. “Talk to me?” She shook her head adamantly. 

“I can't. I can't, I have to keep Clo safe. You don't understand,”

“Help me, then?” She closed her eyes, he imagined her weighing up in her mind the pros and cons of telling him. “Please, Ella? I’ve been fucking shit around here for six months, I’ve been the shittest person to share an office with and I know, I know you have no reason to trust me or believe me. But I want to help you?” He pleaded.

“He's the reason I'm here,” she whispered, tearfully.

“Green cap?” 

“No, he’s just an… associate. He was sent by my ex, Clover’s dad.”

“What happened?” 

“I covered for him. Got the Park off him when they started looking into him.”

“Fuck, El,” he dragged a hand over his face. 

“Don't, don't be nice to me. I don't deserve it. I chose to be part of it, I fucked up and Taverner found out. She sent me here.”

“They didn't arrest you?” She dropped into his office chair, unprepared for the missing wheel, and nearly tipped the whole thing over. River steadied her quickly and sank onto his knees before her. 

“Dad's a copper. They made it go away, sent me here. I haven't seen him for years, he's never even met Clo. I didn't know Taverner had contacted him til they were kicking me out.” Ella put her head in her hands and sighed. “I met him when I was seventeen. Ran away with him, he was older - in his late twenties. He covered up his work for years, I didn't know about any of it. I got a low level job at the Park and he told me to go for it because he knew in the long run it would benefit him in some way. Then he got more and more controlling and involved me in his work, and by then it was too late to get out. I was pregnant with Clo, I had nowhere to go.” Her voice shook, “he'd have killed me. So I just carried on playing the dutiful gangland wife until he got caught and there was only so much of his shit I could hide.” 

“Fuck me. How'd you get out?”

“They got him on a minor charge, something really stupid, and he went to prison. I got away as soon as he went down. But it's not enough,” she rolled her eyes, “he was always going to find me. I just hoped I'd have longer to come up with a plan.” 

“Is that what green cap wanted?”

“To tell me he's out tomorrow and wants to see me,” she nodded. “No doubt wants us back together. He won't let Clo go without a fight, he told me he'd call social services and tell them I drink and take coke around her. If he can't have her, he won't let me.” She rubbed her forearm absentmindedly and River noticed a small scar. She saw him looking and pulled her sleeves down, he hadn't noticed how close they were, she'd leaned towards him on her elbows and he'd raised up on his knees to maintain eye contact with her. She looked away, blushing. “Sorry, I shouldn't have dragged you into this.” He cleared his throat and sat back on his heels.

“I'm glad you told me,” he said sincerely. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing. I’m serious, you can’t do anything about this. I just need you to keep it quiet. The best I can do is try not to bring any shit to Lamb’s door.”

“He knows?” He thought back to the conversation he’d overheard earlier.

“He knows some stuff, same as you.”

“Will he hurt you?” He asked quietly through gritted teeth. Ella hesitated, refusing to meet his eyes. “He will, won't he?”

“Nah,” she tried to sound convincing. “He'll be fine. He'll understand why I left.” She assured him. When she looked at him again, the walls were firmly back in place and she was back on her guard. 

“Ella -” she waved a hand to interrupt him. 

“It's going to be fine, really. Thank you, River.” 

“That's the first time you've called me River.”

“I'm sure it's not,” she brushed off. 

“It is. It definitely is.”

“First and last time then,” she said with a small smile. 

“Hopefully not.” He got to his feet, his ankle clicking painfully as he did. “Ow, fuck.”

“Must be all that running you're so good at.”

“Funny, very funny.”

“I need to go.” 

“Will you be back?” He asked curiously. 

“Course I will,” she nodded firmly. “Slow horses couldn’t keep me away,” she told him, rolling her eyes. He wasn’t sure he believed her.

*

Unsurprisingly, Lamb was already in the pub. Fresh from a marginally less stressful visit to the home, River slid onto the barstool next to him, as had become their routine over the last seven months.

“Old bastard still alive?”

“For another day at least. I did get a bit less shit from him this time though.”

“Maybe he’s starting to enjoy those sponge baths.” Lamb teased. River grimaced into his glass.

“Gross, please don’t say shit like that.”

“Molly alright?”

“You told her about Frank?”

“I tell her a lot of stuff. She’s one of the good ones.” River hummed in agreement.

“I’ve found some things out today,” he started, keeping his intentions vague. “Some things I think you also know? About Cole.”

“Ahh yes. Our little gangland belle. She told you, did she?”

“We met an associate of her ex. Apparently he’s getting out tomorrow, he wants to see her.”

“I’m sure he does. He’ll want to know what she’s been up to while he’s been inside.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing, Cartwright. We can’t do anything unless she asks us to.” They drank in silence, River raised his hand to request another round. ”Keep an eye on her though, eh?” Lamb added, River nodded.

“Will do.”

Chapter 3

[doctorofmagic]

Strange #3 review

In which I’m not getting enough.

The chapter begins as the preview hinted. The only difference that I see is the fact that the Rose is not leading The Blasphemy Cartel as I first assumed. The Rose tells Clea where she can find them but it turns out to be a trap.

They use the Sands of Nisanti, which is becoming an incredible popular spell. I don’t think Jed wrote this after the movie because chapters are written months prior to their release.

Also, it was featured before, as seen in The Oath and Doctor Strange v1, after all.

On a side note, I need to state that the recent news makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable with this story, with all the guns and such. I know, I know, it’s a cartel. But I come from a place where I’m not used to reading “realistic” things. I’m always reading the mystic side of Marvel, a bit of X-Men and that’s it. Stephen hardly deals with this kind of issue and the timing is not that great. Still, this is entirely personal so let’s move on.

The cartel thinks they’ve got Clea by preventing her from using her magic, right? EXCEPT

Love how Clea froze the bullets in midair. SLAY QUEEN

And then she turns them into stone.

This isn’t the same spell from Defenders v3, though. Dormammu turned Hulk into crystal there.

She then proceeds to investigate one of their bases and finds... computers?

Now I have no idea what the Blasphemy Cartel is up to. Also I have zero theories, sorry. So I’ll just go to the next page, I think this one is overall important in many regards.

Solicitations gave us a hint about this. And honestly, I’m a worried about the reason why Wong can’t remember it. What if Stephen did something bad? What if he erased Wong’s memories in order to protect him? WE KNOW STEPHEN IS THIS SHADY.

But also, maybe it’s something from a story in canon, from the many times he did it. Friendly reminder that he tampered with Wong and Sara’s memories back in Sorcerer Supreme with the intention of protecting them. Haha I’m just so fine and not anxious about this matter at all haha

Next, they’re interrupted by a messager. Umar is coming to dinner lmao

Lastly, we finally see the one leading the Blasphemy Cartel, Director None.

Do I know him? Do I know what they want? Do I have theories?

No, I have nothing.

But not gonna lie. This chapter yet again felt so short. It’s a book full of action, that’s for sure. But it’s not enough to keep me going through another whole month (sometimes more when they delay the issue). I don’t know if I’m biased or complaining too much but I really wish Strange was released biweekly :/

When the full volume comes around, I’m definitely going to reread it cause I feel like the pace is good, the writing is amazing, everything is awesome. Except that I’m not getting enough and this waiting is ruining me :’)

Please feel free to disagree with me, I’m doubting myself at this point, which could possibly affect the way I perceive the chapter. It could also be that Stephen is nowhere to be seen currently so I have nothing to look forward to (except MK: Black, White and Blood in two weeks amen)

Overall, the chapter was amazing. Clea is once more CLEAning and I feel that the plots are building up to a nice point. Still... We’ll only know next month :/

[rurpleplayssims]

“Sorry about earlier” Emmy said, deciding it was better to be honest and admit that she might well be overthinking all that was happening between them. She’d been hoping Alon would notice her in this way for months and she was still stunned that he had made his move. “I’m just a bit...”

“Nervous?” Alon offered.

Emmy winched “A bit, yeah.”

“I was nervous too” he told her with kindness. “But it feels right with you. So why stress?”

“So, when did you wanna move in? Before or after the twins get here?” Briony asked her fiancé. 

“I think when you go on your maternity leave” Jed told her. “Maybe sooner. Our house is almost ready. You sure Sylvie’s ok with me staying a few nights?”

“Course she is” Briony told him. “Sylvie approves of you and you’re looking after me.”

“I try my best” he amended. 

She snorted “Babe, you’re treating me better than anyone else has. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I love you Briony” he told her with a heart-warming smile.

She lent forward and gave him a lingering kiss “Meh, you’re alright.”

They both laughed.

“So, are we staying at yours or mine tonight?”

“You can come over to mine” Tyler said. “More privacy that way.”

“You make it sound like my place has paper thin walls!” Victoria laughed.

“It does” Tyler replied, winking at her. “Remember when Emmy said she thought she heard us and we had to play it cool?”

“Oh yeah” Victoria giggled. “Ok fine, we’ll head to yours tonight.”

“I think the day’s going very well” Thomas told his bride. “Putting our feelings about today aside, everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves. You did very well to plan all of this.”

“You helped, remember?” Althea reminded him softly. “But yes, I’m happy that everyone appears to be as happy as we are.”

“You dance really well.”

“What did you expect from a werewolf?” Luke asked with a laugh.

Becky shrugged “No expectations, just glad to know you’ve not trodden on my feet yet.”

“Did you think anymore on the offer that Althea gave you?”

“Gave us, you mean?” she corrected. “Yeah I have...and I’m quite tempted to go for it. Just scared I’m underestimating the task.”

He was shaking his head silently before she finished her sentence. “You’re not underestimating the work. You’re thinking ahead, asking Althea for any and all resources and answers to possible hurdles. I think you’ll be perfect for the role and I’m happy to be your second-in-command whilst Althea and Thomas are on their break.”

“We’d best let them know that we’ve made up our minds then” Becky said, an excited gleam in her eyes.

Matthew was impressed with Sylvie and her way of thinking. 

To some, it was almost cruel but it was just brutally honest. He was surprised by he’d been able to ask her tentatively about her supernatural abilities. He was tactful, deciding not to ask her any questions that would make her compromise her safety.

Sylvie, for her part, was put at ease by Matthew’s common sense and his sense of doing the right thing. But under the surface, she sensed he was hurting and wasn’t willing to let anybody see. 

After twenty more minutes of talking, she broached the subject. “Have you heard from Deidre?”

Matthew blinked, completely caught off-guard by the question. In the past few weeks since she’d been kicked out of town, he’d tried not to think of his elderly friend. He’d not mentioned Deidre to Sylvie so he had no idea why or how she knew about her banishment. But then, Sylvie was a supernatural being who knew things when others didn’t. 

“How did you-” he started to ask.

“I know things” she said simply, confirming his assumption. “Don’t worry, I shan’t compromise her healing or spread it around town, you have my word.”

He cleared his throat “No, she’s...she’s refused to take my phone calls actually.”

Sylvie could see the open hurt and pain in the therapist’s eyes.

She decided that he needed some reassurance “She will heal Matthew” she told him gently. “And when she’s better, she will reach out to you.”

“How is it working at the Chronicle?” Helen asked.

“I only started on Friday for my induction” Dominic admitted. “But Cheryl’s working with Briony and I think she might be keeping an eye on the office when Briony goes on her maternity leave. But I’m looking forward to it!”

“I always liked writing” Helen said thoughtfully. “But I never has the patience for it.”

“But you had the patience to learn to play the violin?” Dominic asked, amused. She’d already admitted her love of music.

[lizziethebibrid]

60. Is it greedy of me to say I never want you to leave my arms?

With JedBen please? This has Ben's speech patterns all over it

ao3 link here

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Ben was pretty sure he was going crazy. And he wasn’t usually an irrational person. Was going against the gods all those years ago a great idea? In theory, it could have been. There was a plan and everything and it was far fetched, yes, but he wouldn’t call it irrational. Even though it didn’t turn out great for him.

But he generally wasn’t worried about himself. He died, he came back. That was his life. He didn’t like it, but he’d gotten used to it. And it was easier this way because if he didn’t have anyone to care about, he didn’t have anyone to put in danger because of his curse and he didn’t have to get worried.

Only things had changed lately. There was no curse on him anymore and he suddenly had people he cared about. He had someone he loved . And that particular someone should have been back twenty minutes ago along with Kaleb, so Ben’s worries? Kind of justified.

So, yeah, when Jed was stumbling into the room, cradling his left arm close to him, his face littered with cuts and bruises here and there and having the audacity to say it’s not as bad as it looks , Ben was pretty sure he was starting to lose his mind for a completely different reason.

“What happened?” he asked, pushing Jed to sit on the bed. He went along with no complaints which was enough for Ben to actually know it was as bad as it looked.

“Yeah, that vampire? Didn’t really want to come along. And I’m pretty sure he has a grudge against werewolves, which I get, okay? But still, rude,” Jed said, his expression scrunching up as he moved ever so slightly.

“Okay, can I trust you to just stay here for a second?” Ben said.

“I’m actually not planning on getting up any time soon, so yes,” Jed answered. It was good enough for Ben who left immediately to go get some supplies.

“I thought vampire blood heals these kinds of things,” he said, kneeling down in front of him as soon as he was back so they were on the same level.

“Werewolves heal pretty fast too,” Jed said. “And anyway, a couple of bruises don’t really require raiding emergency vampire blood supplies.”

“Right and the broken arm?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not broken,” Jed defended.

“It looks broken.”

“Believe me, I know what broken bones feel like,” Jed said with a groan as he moved his arm. “It’s not broken. It is painful, I’ll give you that.”

Ben sighed, trying to be reasonable and chose to just work on the bleeding cuts instead. He didn’t care if they were going to heal soon, he needed to feel useful somehow.

Jed hissed a little when Ben applied the antiseptic, his face scrunching up once again. “Ow,” he said with a pointed look.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. Do you want this to get infected?” Ben dared him to answer.

“Fine,” Jed sighed, giving him the go ahead. “You know what you’re doing?”

“You’d be surprised at what you can pick up when you constantly get hurt and or dead,” Ben said, keeping his attention on the cut.

They stayed silent while he worked, Jed not really complaining even though it must have still stung. Ben eventually pulled back, satisfied and put everything back in place.

“Thank you,” Jed said.

“You need to start taking better care of yourself,” Ben said, coming to sit next to him on the bed.

“Are you calling me reckless?”

“Yes,” Ben said without missing a beat. “You and all your friends. You wanted to fight the gods.”

“We beat the gods.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I think that’s a pretty good point,” Jed said with a little shrug. Okay, it probably was a good point, Ben hadn’t exactly been innocent in that whole ordeal. And he had done his fair share of reckless things during his lifetime.

“Yeah,” he said, staring ahead of them. “Maybe I’m being a hypocrite.”

“You’re not a hypocrite.” Jed nudged his shoulder with his own, uninjured one. “But you were also ready to sacrifice yourself to beat your father so don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”

“But I didn’t.”

“But you would have,” Jed insisted. “If you want me to practice self care you should follow your own advice too. Also, throwing myself at outside threats is kind of my thing, so you’re really killing my vibe here…”

Ben snorted as he turned to face him and found Jed smiling too. “Is that a werewolf thing or a you thing?”

“Hard to say.”

Ben couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him at that, still smiling. It wasn’t too late, but even if Jed wouldn’t really admit it, he was in pain and he didn’t hesitate to just crawl into bed, trying not to put any weight on his injured arm. Ben laid down next to him, pulling him into an embrace, just wanting to make sure that he was there and he was okay. With everything he’d been through it’d be fair to say he had some insecurities.

��Is it greedy of me to say I never want you to leave my arms?” he whispered into the silence.

“That’d be one way to make sure I don’t do anything reckless again,” Jed murmured, making Ben chuckle.

“I don’t know if you could survive that,” he said, smiling when he heard a sound of protest coming from Jed.

“I don’t need much in life to be happy,” he said. “And I think I’d do just fine right here.”

Ben was astonished sometimes at how much his life had changed after all this time in ways he never thought possible. He suddenly had a future, one that actually looked bright for a change. And he had Jed, in his arms. Even if it was just for now. He knew they weren’t actually letting go of each other.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “It’s not so bad.”

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (41)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

My kingdom for something. It is a fairly well-known and old sentence that is used very little today. But... for you it would be: My kingdom for something that relaxes me. What for? Let's say your awakening was... Disturbed. Jed was still sleeping for once; it was quite surprising considering that he is always the first awake to go to work. But you have to believe that his evening was... Exhausting. So, you are the first one standing. And on your nightstand, you found a piece of paper. What is written on it leaves you in no doubt about the identity of the author.

*Hoggins is dead. We see each other tonight, Honey. Be ready. *

That's it. It's done. And now it's up to you to honor your share of the deal. An entire evening with Ghostface. But it is far too early. You wish you had a little more time, just to find an excuse for Jed to not be there. What can you do? How are you going to do? If Jed sees Ghostface... And if Ghostface sees Jed... God only knows what could happen. This is why you are stressed today. But you found the excuse of the festival and the journalists to not worry everyone. Although in itself this is not really an excuse, because you also tense for this reason.

What do journalists in other cities think of you? of your pastries? of the festival in general? Were they satisfied? or disappointed? What will they write about you? So many unanswered questions... For now. Several options are jostling in your head: The first is that they loved everything. They will write a very good review about you, about the festival, about the city. People from other cities would come, even tourists, to visit the city and take the opportunity to go to your café. And if they also appreciate... they could come and live there! So, the city would get a little bigger, and your coffee would be better and better known throughout Ohio.

The second option? It’s that they are... neutral. They didn't hate it but didn't like it either. As a result, they will write a fairly neutral article, which will not change much. Or it will attract a few tourists, who will make Roseville a city where spend your holidays quietly... but nothing more.

And the last... it's that they hated it. After all, and without wanting to offend Jed, journalists are quite particular. They are quite snobby; they have tastes...how to say... Let's say they enjoy luxurious places at poor little country festivals. So, when you send them to this kind of place, they're not necessarily cheerful. So just to annoy everyone, and especially the city, they write negative articles, where they criticize everything, invent fake stories and fake anecdotes just to get revenge. And so, they could do the same with the Roseville festival. They could write an article in which they would criticize everything, tell anything. It wouldn't really benefit the city, just like it would be for your coffee. Because if you want to expand, you need good reviews. But also, good reviews of the city. And unfortunately, it’s not with the Roseville Gazette that this can be done. It has to come from the outside world.

But let's remain optimistic! there's no reason they hated it, right? You were working in the back of the shop. At least you try because with all this stress in you... it’s difficult to concentrate. Amy who saw you from the counter, because she turned to you from time to time, brought you a cup of tea, a smile on her lips.

“I thought it would relax you. Do not worry! I'm sure that everything went well and that we will read good returns in the days!” she said cheerfully.  

“Thanks Amy, I guess you’re right. I should relax and hope for the best. How is it in the café? we have a lot of customers?” you respond with a smile.

“Oh yeah! As usual I want to say. Corey runs everywhere but hey, I feel like it doesn't mind him more than that... quite the contrary.”

“Hahaha It's true. You know, there are people who can't stay in place. They have to move, do something all the time otherwise they get bored and find everything boring. Corey is surely that kind of person who doesn't like to stand by and do nothing, just like me.”

“AMY! New orders are here! Hurry up!” Shouts Corey from the counter.  

“I'M COMING! I have to go back to work! Don't forget boss, breathe and relax. Everything's fine. We had the hardest time. Everything will be fine now.” said Amy before going back to the counter.  

You smile as you watch Amy go back to work. She’s right, you have to relax. But... unfortunately for you, the hardest part has not yet passed. The hardest part is coming tonight. And you don't know what to do with Jed. How to convince him to not be at the apartment tonight? Without offending him? Unless there is a miracle, unless he has to leave on his own to find another scoop or go to the scene of a murder, it’s impossible. But hey... so far, you've been lucky. You could have been killed by Ghostface, and he decided to leave you alive. You could have been the victim of an assassination, and Jed protected you. You could have been there when this guy ransacked your coffee, and yet you were already at home when it happened. So, what could go wrong tonight?

It's better to not think about it anymore. It will happen... what will happen. For now, you need to focus on your job and nothing else. Tonight... it will be a different story. The day went off without a hitch. Customers came and went, some with a smile, others a little grumpy, some were stressed, others confident. There was everything, and everything was needed in this world.

Melina and Mattew arrived laughing, and sat down at a table. Amy took their order and Melina asked her if you were there. Amy told them you were in the back of the shop baking March cakes. You gave them a small greeting with your hand, which they returned to you with a smile. You put down your tea towel and leave the room to go see them. And as usual, they were making fun of each other.

“Only 3 slices of cake? I don't believe you. You are a little glutton, OUR little glutton Mattew. 3 parts is only the aperitif for you.” Said Melina laughing.  

“Hey! I swear to you that I am telling the truth! I didn't want the boss to give me an eternal sermon! You know how he is when you don't respect his instructions... I have often been paying the price...” responds Mattew.  

“That’s true.”  

“My poor Mattew... I hope at least you were able to enjoy it when you got back.” you said smiling.

“Nah, I left my shares to Chris. He must also take advantage of it. With work it's hard right now." responds Mattew

“Awn it’s too cute. He's really lucky to have you.”

“Oh! I almost forgot! Jed asked us to warn you that tonight he will be coming home very late. He must apparently go to the scene of a new murder committed by Ghostface. Another innocent inhabitant who died by his cold and heartless blade.” Said Melina.  

“Oh. O-okay. Poor guy...or girl.” You simply respond.

When I was talking about miracles... here is one. It saddens you to learn that Ghostface is being killed again, but it suits you for tonight. Jed will return very late, until he comes back, Ghostface will surely be gone. Luck is still on your side for now. You talk for a little while with Mattew and Melina before they go back to work, and so do you. The rest of the day was quiet, although towards the end you received the call from Mr. Parkson and your Aunt Marnie.

The first one informed you that everything was finally settled for the succession and that the inheritance had been divided at your request between your uncles and aunts. Nevertheless, they have asked that you receive a share of this inheritance as well, so you should expect an upcoming transfer to your bank account. Mr. Parkson greeted you and wished you good luck for the future, hoping that time will heal your wounds. He also informed you that if he learns something about your parents' death, you will be the first to know.

As for your discussion with Aunt Marnie, it was simple. She was taking news, knowing how you were doing, if you needed anything and if everything was okay with Jed. You couldn't help but laugh at her mother hen attitude, it was so adorable coming from her. Your uncle Joey had finally decided to talk to you on the phone. And just by his voice, you felt that it made him feel better to hear you and chat with you. He was fine, some back problems, but nothing very bad according to him. You still tell him to pay attention to him and to not force too much if he does not want to end up stuck in bed for days. He laughed, saying that you reminded him of his sister, your mother, when she was still of this world. He hung up saying that he loved you and hoped to see you soon. You answer him the same thing before hanging up in your turn.

You walk home, without a hitch, and once in the apartment, you sigh with relief. It feels good to finally be at home. And you'll get even better after a good shower. In any case, you will have to prepare. Ghostface is coming. And welcome him in work clothes... is not really a good idea. So, you take clean things, go to the bathroom and take a shower. You leave the room after a few minutes and decide to prepare food. Since you are not very hungry, because of the stress of Ghostface, a simple salad of tomatoes and cucumbers will be enough. You were doing the dishes, when you heard footsteps that you would recognize between a thousand.

“Well... I really hoped you weren't going to come tonight. I thought maybe you'd be lenient and give me an evening off.” you said without turning your back, hearing HIM chuckling.  

“Sorry Honey, but unfortunately, a deal is a deal. And then... spend an entire evening by your side... I will certainly not refuse.” said Ghostface.  

“Is he really dead? Are you sure?”

“Given the state in which I left him, I can tell you that he is indeed dead. He ended up... like his creator. On a nice wooden cross, crucify by me. If you could have been there... you would have been amazed by my art.”

“You’re a twisted devil.”

“And you’re guardian angel. I am both. Then... Where do we start?” Ghostface replied.

“What if you finally told me who you are? Remember? it was part of the deal. A whole evening with you in exchange for your true identity.” you respond, facing him.  

He sneered before approaching you slowly, but with a determined step. He gently pressed you against the worktop and you could guess through his mask that he was devouring you with his eyes.

“Do you REALLY want to start with that? This is just a small detail... we can deal with that... later in the evening.” he said with a softly voice.  

“Deal is a deal. That’s what you said. No true identity, no evening with me. And anyway... Jed will return sooner or later.” You respond with a provocative look.  

“... Fine. As you wish. But regarding Jed... I don't think... that he will bother us tonight. In fact, he will no longer bother us.”

“What do you mean? What did you do to him??? ANSWER ME!”

Ghostface sneered before exploding with laughter before backing up and closing the curtains properly so that no one outside could see what was going to happen. He went back in front of you, now standing in the center of the room and gently removing his mask. And the face that was underneath... No... That's impossible... you didn't want to believe it.

“J... Jed?” you said shocked.

“Hi...Honey. I’m home.” He responds with a sneaky smile.

You couldn't believe it... you didn't want to believe it. Since all this time... he lied to you. Since all this time... the man you loved, was the one who at night came to see you under this mask.  

Since all this time... your guardian angel... was also the devil you are trying to drive away.

***

(My right arm finally doesn't make me suffer anymore! what a pleasure! Gone is the horrible feeling of being hit in the arm! I will be able to write fully! But I also can't wait to go back to bars, restaurants and more... but for that I have to have the sanitary pass. And it won't be until September. What a hell! The next chapter will be the continuation of this one, but from the point of view of our dear Danny! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)

[pixie-mage]

4,5, O (both + and -) and V -

From this NatM Writing Prompt: [ x ]

(Sorry it took so long, but I had a lot of fun writing this one! It gets a bit emotional in the middle, but I promise there's fluff there too!)

Characters: Jedediah x Octavius Adjectives: Overprotective, Overworked, Vulnerable

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Jedediah really should have noticed it sooner. They had returned from the Smithsonian and been on display for almost a month by now, and the new Night Program was in full swing...so perhaps there were more than a few reasons it had slipped under his radar. But still, he should have noticed it sooner.

It was approaching midnight now. There had been no guests in the museum for a few hours or so, just Larry and the exhibits, and most of them were taking the time off to enjoy the night like they normally did. Emphasis on ‘most’.

Jedediah leaned sideways against the wall of the Roman diorama, his arms folded across his chest and one boot tucked across the ankle of the other. He watched with a subtle frown as Octavius discussed something quietly with Marcus, his second in command, at the edge of the courtyard that marked the center of the display. Octavius’ brow was furrowed, his hands moving with his words, whatever he was saying clearly of some level of importance. Or at the very least, Octavius seemed to think so. But Jedediah could see the dark shadows under the general’s eyes, the tension in his armor-clad shoulders, the odd little eye movements that flickered off to the side at odd intervals...as if he felt like he was being watched, or was waiting for something to jump him.

Octavius looked stressed and worn out, and it was a wonder Jedediah hadn’t caught on sooner. Come to think of it, since they had returned from Washington DC, Jed couldn’t remember more than a few brief, fleeting moments that Octavius wasn’t hard at work doing...something. Anything. Running drills with the Roman army, rehearsing dialogue for the Night Program, discussing some kind of political or military issue with Marcus (or Cyrus...Jed shuddered; that slimy kiss-ass of a senator could take a damn hike in his opinion). And on the rare occasions that Octavius took time aside to spend with Jedediah for fun, he was constantly on edge. He consistently offered alternate choices for their museum adventures that (Jedediah now realized) were less ‘dangerous’ or ‘risky’. He casually (slyly) veered Jedediah away from ideas that involved something less-than-wise. He was being–

...well, protective, almost, Jedediah landed on. Or maybe paranoid.

All in all, it was obvious that something was up with the Roman general...and perhaps it was high time Jedediah did something about it.

Jed pushed away from the wall and moseyed over to the town square, tossing his arm around Octavius’ shoulders with a grin.

“Howdy Marcus!” he greeted the other soldier, who smiled politely at him. “I’m gonna steal Octavius from ya for a while. Hope ya don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Marcus inclined his head. Octavius let out a disgruntled noise of protest.

“Jedediah, please, I have to–”

“Nope,” Jed cut off his protests and steered him about, marching off towards the Roman border with Octavius held tight against his side. “No can do, amigo. We’re goin’ for a drive.”

“Jedediah–”

“Ockie, hush up. You look like you could use a break, so I’m makin’ sure you get one.”

“But Rome–”

“Can last one night without you there,” Jed said. “Your soldiers have been workin’ their tails off for more ‘n two weeks straight. Hell, Billy’s been all mopey over on our side of the wall because he ain’t seen his Roman friends in days. Let ‘em have a night off.”

As if to cement this fact, Octavius caught sight of a familiar pair of archers chattering excitedly near the diorama’s edge, clearly on their way out of the city - much like Jedediah and himself. Octavius sighed, finally giving in to Jedediah’s impulsive adventure.

“Very well,” he said. “I suppose you may have a point.”

“Dang right I do,” Jed grinned, shaking Octavius slightly with the arm still slung around the man’s shoulders. “Get yer Roman ass down that climbin’ rope and I’ll fetch the car.”

Jed left Octavius behind to grab up the rope hanging over the edge of Rome’s border, gripping it in both gloved hands and leaping out of the diorama with expert ease. He didn’t have to look behind him to know Octavius would be following after him.

~

Tonight’s drive was about the same as every other time in the past few weeks that they had taken the car out for a spin. Jedediah drove a little too fast and a little too recklessly, Octavius tried to enjoy himself while murmuring quiet cautions to be more careful, and once or twice Octavius gripped the door handle with such intensity at Jedediah’s more reckless turns that his knuckles were white from the strain.

It was almost the same as when they would drive around before the Smithsonian...but only almost.

Now that he was looking for it, Jedediah was kicking himself for not noticing the difference sooner. Before, Octavius was normally just about as invested in the thrill of their adventures as Jedediah...but much of his enthusiasm was missing right now. Without a second thought, Jed took a sharp right and headed for a familiar exhibit, ignoring the tense expression that flitted across Octavius’ face at his sudden change of direction. He steered the car swiftly into the dimly lit room and parked off to the side, and the moment the car came to a stop he kicked open the door and ducked out of the miniature vehicle.

The room was quiet and empty. Ahkmenrah was almost never in his own exhibit after hours, making this one of the only places in the museum that was relatively still at this time of night. Though Jedediah himself had never asked the pharaoh about it in person, he had a sneaking suspicion that the young ruler wasn’t too fond of his tomb and sarcophagus. Jed imagined being trapped in one place for decades could do that to a person.

The sound of the passenger door opening and closing came from behind him but Jedediah didn’t turn around. Instead, he took a few strides away from the car to lean against one of the massive stone pillars that decorated the exhibit, only turning to look at Octavius once he had his back pressed against the cool stone. He folded his arms over his chest and eyed the other miniature from beneath the brim of his hat.

“What’s goin’ on with you Octavius?”

Octavius, who had been in the process of following Jedediah away from the car, paused mid-step. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then his brow furrowed as he said:

“In...what regard?”

“You look exhausted, Ockie,” Jed said softly, a pained sympathy lacing his words. “You’re workin’ yourself to pieces and you’re jumpin’ at shadows. Now I know you keep sayin’ you’re just busy because we’re still settlin’ into the new Night Program and whatnot, but I’m not so sure I believe you.”

A brief, startled look passed over Octavius’ face like a fleeting shadow, there and gone again in less than a breath.

“I admit, I may be keeping myself a little too busy as of late,” he conceded. He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, his fingers tense. “But - Jedediah, I assure you, I am perfectly fine.”

“Mind tryin’ that again?” Jed quirked an eyebrow at Octavius, who swallowed thickly and looked away.

Jedediah shook his head with a sigh and pushed away from the pillar behind him. His footsteps echoed quietly in the cavernous room until he came to a stop right in front of his - now oddly tense - partner. He tried to catch Octavius’ eye.

“Look, I’m not tryin’ to call you a liar, but you’ve got shadows under your eyes and you’re about as jittery as a cornered cat. Somethin’s up, and I just wanna help.” When Octavius didn’t reply, Jedediah ducked into Octavius’ line of vision to finally meet his gaze. He gave the other miniature a lazy, lopsided smile. “There ya are. C’mon, talk to me sweetheart.”

Despite himself, Octavius smiled wearily and chuckled, shaking his head ever-so-slightly at Jedediah’s antics. Then his smile faded again and he let out a long breath, his eyes becoming closed off just as they had been before. He ran his fingers through his hair once or twice, having left his helmet in the car.

“Yes, alright, so I may be under some stress at the moment...but I’ll be fine. I swear it. I don’t wish to bother you with my trivial worries.”

“Hey now, that’s now how this works,” Jed protested immediately. He planted his hands on his hips. “We’re partners. We trust each other. Right?”

“Completely,” Octavius breathed. “I do trust you, my love. Always.”

“Then I don’t care how trivial you might think it is. If it’s worryin’ you then I wanna hear about it. Comprende?”

A brief moment of silence settled between them. Octavius looked as though he wanted to say something, but the words never left him. As he stood there, conflicted, unsure what to say, his expression slowly melted from the closed off facade he had been wearing for days into something softer…something fragile. A strained and emotional sort of exhaustion settled in his posture, his shoulders sagging, and Jedediah could see the very moment that something behind his eyes began to break. When Octavius finally spoke, it was on a quiet and wavering breath.

“...the hourglass.”

Understanding began to dawn in the back of Jedediah’s mind and his chest tightened. He had a feeling he knew exactly where this was going.

“After we attempted to escape the shipping container, you were trapped in the hands of a monster who held no qualms about harming anyone who stood in his way,” Octavius went on, speaking softly. Remembering. “And though it does not often bother me, our smaller stature was...a disadvantage. You could do nothing to fight against him, and on my own I could have done nothing to prevent your harm. I watched him lock you in that hourglass with no way of stopping it.”

“Wait, hold on – you were there?” Jedediah asked, eyes bugging out in surprise. He gripped Octavius’ shoulders in both hands. “You didn’t mention that before. I told ya to run! I told you to get away from there!”

“And leave you behind?” Octavius shot back. He pressed his palm to Jedediah’s chest as if to push him away...but he didn’t. “I had to be sure you were alright! I had to know where you were so that I could save you.” His eyes were shining as he searched Jedediah’s face for something that couldn’t be named. “That monster gave you all of an hour to live. It was at once the longest and the most quickly-passing hour of my entire life. Had I not been able to get to you in time–”

Octavius couldn’t finish the sentence. His breath caught, shuddering, and he clenched his eyes shut as if to block out the thought.

Jedediah felt as though the wind had been knocked from him. He had almost never seen Octavius so distraught. Octavius was a strong and proud man, a Roman general, and he rarely showed signs of true fear. It didn’t feel right to see him looking so terrified of something that could have been, that never was.

“Ockie, look at me,” Jedediah murmured. He waited until Octavius opened his eyes before cupping his face in one hand. He ran his thumb over Octavius’ cheek gently, a lopsided smile slipping onto his face. “I’m right here. Nothin’ happened to me. You got that? That crazy Egyptian couldn’t’ve done anythin’ to me even if he tried.”

A watery chuckle bubbled up past Octavius’ lips. The hand he still had pressed to Jedediah’s chest clenched slightly, his fingers fisting against the blue fabric of the cowboy’s shirt.

“No, I imagine he couldn’t have,” Octavius agreed shakily.

“That’s what’s been eatin’ at ya since we got back?” Jedediah asked, worry creasing his brow.

“For many reasons.” Octavius let his eyes close again and he leaned into the comforting hand at his cheek. “It seems silly, perhaps, to be so affected by it...but I keep having nightmares in which I am...I am unable to save you.” He shivered. “Often I am either too late, or I cannot break the glass, or Kahmunrah grows impatient and–” He shivered again, a pained look crossing his face, and he pressed his lips together tightly.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Jed murmured, pressing their foreheads together, the brim of his hat tilting upwards because of it. “I’m fine. You saved me. Everything turned out alright, remember? Look–” He brought his other hand to grip Octavius’ fist where he was still clutching Jedediah’s shirt. “–feel that? My heart’s still beatin’ as strong as ever. Might be ‘cause of a magic tablet, but it’s there.”

Octavius nodded. He opened his eyes to meet Jedediah’s blue ones, so very close to his. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Too many emotions were swirling in the depths of his eyes, tears glistening there that had yet to fall. He swallowed, licked his lips. He breathed. Jedediah pulled on a soft, crooked smile.

“Are you with me, Ockie?”

Not quite sure what else to do, Octavius moved in Jedediah’s hold until he was clinging to him tightly, holding him close, his face buried in the crook of the cowboy’s neck. His nose brushed against the blue and red of Jedediah’s shirt and neckerchief, taking in the familiar scent of sand and hard work and the hot sun and something so distinctly Jed that he could not put a name to it even if he tried. He closed his eyes and choked back a sob and clutched at the man in his arms as if he might never see him again. Tears slowly soaked into the shoulder of Jedediah’s shirt, but he didn’t seem to care as he hugged his partner back with every ounce of love he could give and let Octavius revel in the sheer solid proof that he was alive.

Eons seemed to pass before they finally parted (though not completely, as Octavius still had a hand on Jedediah’s waist and Jed was still lightly gripping Octavius’ arm, neither of them quite ready to let go). Octavius sucked in a deep, shaking breath, and when he smiled - almost embarrassed - Jedediah couldn’t help but notice that the shadows beneath his eyes seemed less prominent and some of the visible weight on his shoulders had lifted.

“Feelin’ better sweetheart?” Jedediah asked with a gentle smile. Octavius let out a huffed laugh and nodded.

“Much,” he said. “Perhaps I should have tried to speak about my troubles sooner.”

“Oh ya think so, huh?” Jed teased lightly, a sparkle in his eyes. He tugged at the brim of his hat, straightening it. “I reckon next time you’ve got a bunch o’ ‘What-If’s’ and ‘If-Only’s’ bouncing around in that head o’ yours, you won’t keep it to yourself. Right?”

“Of course,” Octavius smiled sheepishly. “I apologize for not speaking up before now. Nightmares didn’t seem like an important enough subject to bother you with.”

“I don’t care if your complaint of the day is that you’ve got a cramp in your left foot! If it’s botherin’ you, I’ll listen.”

Octavius giggled quietly and brought up a hand to hide his grin.

“Whatever did I do to earn such a caring lover?” he queried, and Jed winked.

“Punched him in the face a few times, I reckon.”

Laughter rang out quietly from the secluded corner of the Egyptian exhibit, unheard by anyone but the twin Anubis statues standing guard. The air was calm.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

“Do you think General Octavius will allow us another night off this week?”

“Fabian, if you’re trying to be subtle, it isn’t working.”

“It was a simple question, that’s all!”

“Oh yes, of course it was. The implied ‘to see Billy’ after ‘another night off’ definitely didn’t exist.”

“MARIUS!”

A pair of archers were making their way back into Rome at the end of a night that had been much more relaxing than any they had spent lately. After a few weeks of enduring Octavius’ much more vigorous training regiments it was a welcome relief to be given even one night of freedom...and they weren’t the only ones hoping that their next night off would come sooner rather than later.

“You are much too easy to rile up, my friend,” the archer named Marius chortled, elbowing Fabian. “But to answer your question, it depends on that cowboy Jedediah. You saw him escorting the general out of Rome earlier, did you not?”

“Of course I did,” Fabian grumbled, still flushed from Marius’ earlier teasing. “General Octavius didn’t seem very willing to leave.”

“Ah, but he still left,” Marius pointed out. “Hopefully Jedediah will be able to pull our dear general out of the sour state he has been in lately. With any luck, he’ll be–”

It was at this point that the pair reached the square, and Marius didn’t need to say anything more because Octavius and Jedediah were both in sight. Octavius was smiling brightly, looking more like his usual self than he had in weeks, and he was saying something to the cowboy beside him that neither archer could hear. Whatever it was, Jedediah’s grin turned into a gobsmacked expression in an instant and within the next moment he was bright red and fuming, blustering and spluttering indignantly beside a now-slyly-smirking Octavius.

“OCKIE, YOU CAN’T JUST – THAT’S NOT – WE’RE IN PUBLIC!”

“...I get the feeling you’ll be able to see Billy fairly soon, actually,” Marius muttered with raised eyebrows. Fabian only nodded, as Jedediah stammered something about:

“Crazy flirty Romans…”

~

Octavius bit his lip to stop himself from laughing, his eyes sparkling with mirth while he watched Jedediah teeter on the edge of an explosion. One might think he had already blown up with how loudly he was ranting on...but Octavius knew from experience that the things that actually put Jedediah over the edge left him unable to even form words, so absolutely dumbfounded and reeling that all he could manage was spluttering angry noises, enraged shouts, and pinwheeling limbs that made it look as though he was fighting with the air itself. While it was a guilty pleasure of his to push his beloved to that point, Octavius supposed that it wouldn’t be a very nice ‘thank you’ to do so right after Jedediah had so worriedly and dotingly helped him through some of his recent fears.

With a soft sigh, Octavius caught Jedediah by the arm and pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to the raving cowboy’s cheek.

“Forgive me cara, I’ve never been very good at holding my tongue around you,” he chuckled. “I was only teasing. I apologize.”

Jedediah stilled, as red as a tomato, but his temper slowly fizzled out. He grumbled quietly and hunched his shoulders with his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“...yeah, yeah, keep yer apology,” he rolled his eyes. “Just - quit sayin’ stuff like that in public. It’s not for other people to hear.”

“I shall endeavour to do better.”

Octavius was still grinning softly when Jedediah turned to look at him, the flush of his face lessening and his expression turning affectionate and a little concerned.

“...are you alright?” Jed asked him in an undertone, aware of the people of Rome lingering around the square. “For now anyway?”

Octavius’ grin softened into a tired smile.

“For the most part, yes,” he nodded. His fingers tightened against Jedediah’s arm. “...I doubt the nightmares themselves will vanish overnight - after all, the thought of losing you isn’t one so easily swept aside...” Jedediah winced sympathetically. “...but it doesn’t feel nearly so real of a concept anymore.”

Jedediah was quiet for a few seconds, searching Octavius’ expression for what he could only assume were signs of falsehood. (Octavius knew it was not for a lack of trust either.)

“D’you want me to stay?” Jedediah asked quietly.

“Stay–?”

“Stay durin’ the daylight hours,” Jed specified. “You can try and get some decent sleep and I’ll fight off your nightmares. And if Larry says anything about it, I’ll handle it. You’ve been through enough.”

A warmth, a fondness, swelled in Octavius’ chest, and he found himself gazing adoringly at the man before him. He had asked himself this question almost a million times by now, but...how did he ever get so lucky?

“I love you,” he whispered, before he could stop himself. Jedediah cleared his throat, his cheeks pink.

“Well...w-well that’s nice an’ all, but...er...is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes,” Octavius amended quickly. “Yes, please. I - I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Alrighty then.” Jed nodded and tugged the brim of his hat down to hide his face, looking thoroughly flustered. He took a few steps in the direction of Octavius’ home, paused, and turned back long enough to add: “...I love you too, ‘Tavius.” Then he was marching off through the crowds of Roman citizens, his fists in his pockets and his hat pulled low. Octavius only smiled.

He would be okay.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[A/N - Hope you enjoyed this one! Sorry again that it took so long to finish it! This time, I wrote them as having an established relationship, mostly because the discord server I'm on voted for that one over (A) mutual pining and (B) Octavius confessing his feelings. Seeing as I don't often write them this way, it was nice to change things up! Plus I feel like it makes Octavius racing against the clock to save Jedediah that much more meaningful. I ALSO GOT TO WRITE SOFT!JEDEDIAH TOO! I've never gotten the chance to write that side of him, so thank you for the inspiration!]

[smokahuntis]

Somnum Exterreri

somnum exterreri

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

Prompt: “don’t worry, I’ve got you”

Warnings: nightmares, fluff, little bit of angst, talk af the dark side

Summery: (y/n) has terrible nightmares, and when Anakin is with her on a long mission he helps her threw them.

“You should get some rest.” Anakin said as they boarded the ship, looking over at her. He could tell she was exhausted from the mission they had done, and he’s sure she hasn’t slept in the three days they’ve been flying, it’s a shock she got threw the fight they had endured.

“No I’m fine...” she said looking up at him and heading towards the cockpit. It was just them and R2. He followed her and grabbed her arm.

“Then shower, you have blood on you.” He said looking at her, he didn’t know why she wouldn’t sleep but if she wouldn’t sleep she could at least do something else. “I’ll pilot...”

“Fine...” she said moving away from him and into the refresher. Once inside the warm water calmed her nerves, she almost fell asleep in shower if she hadn’t been so scared to. But at last she needs to, so when she got out and changed she walked into the cock pit and looks at Anakin.

“I’m going to try to sleep...” her voice was quiet and clearly tired, he turned looking at her and gave a small smile.

“Goodnight...”

“Anakin!” She yelled looking threw the deep fog of Mustafar, the ash was to much for her to handle. The lava to bright for her to see, at least in this state of mind.

She could never really make out what was happening but it was always the same thing. She arrived at Mustafar in search of Anakin only to find he’d turned to the dark side.

“Join me...” he would said and she would easily give in, her fears and anger taking over, her passion for Anakin to much for her to walk away. But they would always come to an end quickly as Obi-Wan came from ship, leaving Anakin to feel betrayed and alone once again.

“Anakin this isn’t what I-“ she was almost always cut off by Obi-Wan slicing into Anakin with his blue lightsaber, almost always she woke up crying.

Like now, she felt the tears roll down her face and before she could sit up arms wrapped around her pulling her into his firm chest. “Hey hey shhh...” he held her tightly to him running his hands up and down her back. Pulling away slightly to see her face, wiping away her tears.

“Anakin...” she whispered out to try and defend herself, almost embarrassed that he saw her this ways.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you...” he said pulling her back into his chest, kissing her head. He hated seeing her hurt or sad. But he had no clue how much it would hurt him to see her loose sleep because of nightmares, specially when he tried to calm them, and saw himself. He was the reason she didn’t sleep at night, and it tore him up inside. “I’ve got you...”

he could feel her emotions calm as they sat there with her head against his chest. His hands moved to her hips moving her onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist, he held her like a child, rocking her slowly. He couldn’t get it off of his mind, seeing himself with yellow eyes and her following him into the dark so easily. Would she really follow him if he turned?

“Yes...” she said quietly, answering his question even tho it wasn’t spoken out loud, she always knew what he was thinking. “I’d follow you anywhere...”

“You don’t mean that...” he said playing with her hair, if she meant that, if she meant she’d follow him to the dark side, it was against the Jedi’s code.

“I do Anakin.” She sat up looking at him. “I don’t know what your reasons are, but I’ve seen this dream over and over again Anakin...”

it worried him, he’d never fall to the dark side and he knew it, but she was known for seeing glimpses of the future. A lot of the council’s decision were made because of them.

“I fear that the day will come, you will succumb to the dark side.” She pushes his long hair from his face and sighed. “When that day comes I will follow you...”

he thought about what he saw in her mind and how easily she went to him, he didn’t understand why she would go with him so easily. They’ve known each other for a long time and he’s always known her to be true to the Jedi, but was she more true to him?

“That would be against the jed-“

“Anakin... a lot of things I have done have been against the Jedi, and I don’t believe that moment is a test of my strength to them.” His brows furrowed at her comment.

“If it’s not a test of the Jedi then a test to what?”

“It’s a test to you Anakin...” she chuckled lightly and let her hand rest on his cheek gently, her thumb running over the scar. “I love you...”

he was in shock, complete and utter shock as he looked at her, he loved her to but somehow he couldn’t find the words to tell her. His mouth was a gap trying to let out any noise or sound, she simply understood tho and nodded.

“I know...” she said quietly and he moved kissing her, a fire burning in them now equally spread out amongst the two Jedi. A fire that was not aloud, the council would have their heads if they know about the passion that plagued them. They would dismiss them as knights if they knew how they were trying so hard to memorize the feeling and taste of the others mouth. She tasted like Honey and wine, while he tasted of black berries and mint.

He pulled away first, moving his hand to push hair away from her eyes and behind her ear. His lips came to her forehead leaving a soft kiss before pulling her back into his chest.

“Get some sleep....”

“But Anakin...” she started and he shushed her.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you...”

Taglist: @fangorl-ali @jediminddicks1000 @monamourani @killerkb123 @retrobhaddie @persony-blog @hxldmxdxwn

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Twenty Eight: Caught

Mentions of: Murder, Gore, Character Death, Paranoia, Manipulation, and Stabbing

A/N: Kinda rushed but whatever..more coming soon!

Tags: @elentiyaiswriting @dead-bxxxtch-walking

@vandeaad @mama-miya @the-fandoms-georgie

Everything has been settled for a little while. There weren’t any murders or messages left in your car and apartment. You were finally starting to feel safe. You knew you shouldn’t. Not when this many people have been hurt. He’s up to something, you know it.

He’s luring you into a false sense of security, and once you finally let your guard down, he’ll strike. But even with that fear, you had to admit, it was nice, to feel slightly more okay again. You were starting to sleep again, and the nightmares were going away.

“It’s so weird, you know? The town’s quiet. The quietest it has been in a while.” Rachel remarked you, her and Jed standing around the coffee machine. For once, work was slow.

“Yeah, for once there’s nothing for us to write about. Maybe he’s finally gone.” Jed shrugged.

You gazed over at Jed, fearing that if he was even mentioned, he would come back. He would be here. Summoned like the monster he was. You didn’t comment, just gazed into the black pool of your coffee, before pouring some sugar into it and stirring.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“I mean, like, what if people are onto him, so he’s running?”

“You think the cops are finally starting to figure it out?”

Bullshit. You don’t buy it. The cops were hardly making progress. If they did, they would announce any developments in their investigation. They would show a sketch, and the only thing they had was that damn mask. If anything, you were the closest one to cracking it, and you were hardly making any progress.

Jed shrugged. “I don’t know. But I hope so.”

“Are you okay?” Jed asked, resting a hand on your shoulder and snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What do you think? You think he’s finally gone?”

You wanted to believe it. That you were safe. That everything’s going to be okay. You wanted to lie. But you couldn’t. Not to yourself, and not to them. “No. I mean, he has so much publicity. He wants the attention. He wouldn’t just disappear. Not without sending some sort of message first.”

Jed looked worried but also intrigued. Rachel seemed scared. “Why would you say something like that? Don’t you want him gone?”

“Of course I do.” You replied, fidgeting with the mug in your hand. “I just- I think we should be careful, that’s all.”

“Aren’t you tired of being careful? Of being afraid? He killed my friends, _____. He’s hurt people. So, I’m going to be happy that we’re finally safe again. You should be too.” With that, she walked off, leaving you to call after and feel guilty.

“Don’t, just give her some space.” Jed stopped you. “This is hard on her.”

“It’s hard on me too. She’s acting like this hasn’t affected me either. Like I haven’t lost anyone.” You said, frustrated.

“I know you have, and I know what you’re going through is rough. It’s just…Rachel has grown up here. This place is her home, and everyone she knows and loves isn’t safe, which is terrifying.” Jed tried to reason.

You sighed. “I know. And I know you guys are probably right. I want you guys to be right. But, I have a bad feeling.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure him out eventually. Killers like that don’t have that much publicity and get away with it.” He did have a point. Not to mention how arrogant he was. Ghostface is smart and he knows that, but he thinks he can get away with everything. He thinks he can hurt you, and use you, that he can do whatever he wants, and that will be his downfall.

“No matter what happens, I’ll do what I can to protect you. I promise. You call me and I’ll be there. Anytime, anyplace, just call me.” He took your hands in his, giving them a soft squeeze.

You smiled at him, leaning in and giving his lips a soft peck. “Thanks, Jed.”

Someone else came in, causing the two of you to pull away from each other. It was time to get back to work.

–

Even after what happened earlier, Rachel still invited you and Jed out for drinks. You would reason against it and tell her that it’s not safe, but you knew that would end badly. She was too stubborn. She wouldn’t listen and she’d just get more mad at you.

Instead, here you were, watching her across the bar, making sure she stayed safe. Jed followed your eyes, catching on to your stare. “Are you going to spend the whole night babysitting her?”

“If it means she’s safe, then yes I will.” Not that it ensured anything. You could follow her home and he’d be waiting there for her. He could be anywhere.

“Look, Rachel’s tough. She’ll be okay. I promise, but if you want, I can walk her home for you.” You sighed, slightly relieved at that.

–

“Are you okay? You’ve been in the bathroom for a while.” You couldn’t help but ask Jed, not even two hours later. He looked pale and he was sweaty.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I ate or drank something funny, but I’ll be okay.” His hands were trembling. You were worried. “Jed, you should go home.”

“But what about-”

“It’s fine. I can look after her. Let’s get you a cab.” You walked him outside, letting him lean against you. You wanted to look after him too, now..but you knew that Rachel would be more vulnerable. Going home drunk with a stranger like she always did but what if she goes back with the wrong one?

“Call me and let me know you got home safe okay?” You hugged him and helped him into the car.

“I will.”

You turned away and walked into the bar. Luckily for you, Rachel was just about to leave. You followed her down the dark road, while she stumbled along with the stranger. Soon enough, she was only two blocks away from her house. Nothing had happened. There was no one suspicious, no strange hooded figures, nothing.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you are safe. Maybe he really is gone.

Suddenly, a hooded figure stalked behind them, and just as you could warn them, the man’s throat was slit. You sprinted over, and you were only halfway there when Rachel took off. He caught her easily, stepping on the back of her ankle and stabbing her in the back, before he faced her right in front of you, holding her back by the hair and running his blade across her throat, forcing you to watch as she choked on her blood and the life drained from her eyes.

Foolish, naive, little girl. You should’ve known.

[halo-jpeg]

I hope I didn’t leave a bad impression with my last ask, gah, I’m not good with social interactions. I wanted to make it up to you by giving you a happier ask! What if slashers (any of them you want to write for) with reader who isn’t an S/O but rather a really good best friend who was there for them since the beginning?

Oh, what was your last ask, if I may inquire? Either way, this idea is absolutely adorable, I’d love to write it!

Michael Myers

Michael grew up with you. Your mother and his were great friends, so the two of you were kind of forced together.

He wasn’t too fond of you at first, but you grew closer as the days passed. It was inevitable.

You grew even closer as school went on, always there to run away from bullies or patch up any wounds thst were given. Sadly, being friends with Michael is a one-way ticket to Freakville.

I can imagine that the two of of you would spend lots of time in his forest together, building forts out of branches and such.

Now, in the current day, you provide shelter for your murderer friend, spending the nights watching movies or painting homemade masks together.

He keeps you safe from anyone and anything posing a threat to you, following you around whenever he can, and making sure you’re never harmed.

You patch up his wounds, feed him, and make sure the police don’t come sniffing around your house. Even if they did, you talk them into leaving without suspicion.

You know Michael could never bring himself to hurt you, so he lets you boss him around quite often with no more than a glare and a huff.

He’s like a tsundere, but platonic. He’d never admit that you’re his best- and only- friend, but it’s the truth, and he loves you like family.

Jason Voorhees

Jason was so, so shy, but something about you made him want to be your friend. You were so... normal, and be admired that.

It took quite some encouragement to actually go talk to you, and he had Pamela at his side through it all. He was so afraid you’d hate his face.

The moment you choose to be his friend he’s attached to you. He’d put all of his trust in you, and he’d see you as a sort of protector.

Ever since he started hanging out with you, less people have bothered him. Probably because he was usually out in the forest with you, away from prying eyes, playing hide and seek or tropical explorers.

You came back to Camp Crystal Lake every year, even after he died. You couldn’t bear to leave the memories. You spoke to Pamela a lot, too, keeping Jason’s spirit alive between the two of you.

When Pam died, you went to the lake to pay your respects at her tombstone. You had never guessed Jason, big, scary, murdering Jason, would greet you with a great big hug.

You moved out to the lake on a whim, and Jason moved in with you, patrolling the grounds at night and helping you with chores or gardening during the day.

He’s just as clingy as ever, but now, he’s your protector, and he always will be.

He doesn’t like when you swim in the lake, but he battles down his fear and acts as a life guard whenever you insist on taking a dip.

You patch up his wounds, making sure he’s clean and healthy, and in turn he keeps any pesky teenagers at bay, as well as keeps your crops nice and strong. He’s a great farmer.

Billy & Stu

Billy and Stu were best friends from the beginning, and they weren’t opposed to having a third party join their group.

Even as kids Billy was super popular, so both you and Stu were in the clear when it came to bullies.

You spent most weekends sleeping over at each other’s houses watching all sorts of movies. Horror, comedy, action, romance- you name it! Because of this, you’re just as much of a movie buff as the others.

When other friends like Sidney, Tatum and Randy came along, Billy and Stu made sure you knew you were still top priority.

They didn’t hide their murderous plans from you for long, unable to bear seeing you so worried for your own life.

Once you knew they were the killers, you couldn’t be angry or scared of them. Although, you did feel slightly guilty as your friends died off around you. Anyone would.

As adults, movie nights are still inportant, and you find yourself watching movies as you patch up their bumps and bruises from their hunts.

They keep you plenty safe, and the three of you together have the best fun. You’re all meant to be.

Danny ��Jed Olsen’ Johnson

Danny was an outcast as a kid- he preferred photographs over people, but something about your face was next to irresistible.

Confident little Danny strolled right up to you one day and asked if he could take some pictures of you and your pretty face.

You and him clicked at that very moment, and he even taught you some of his photography skills.

His mother loved the hell out of you, and was always happy to have you over for dinner.

The night that Danny killed his mother and father, his first instinct was to go find you for help. Let’s just say you were surprised to see a bloody, terrified Danny crawling through your bedroom window at 3 am.

He ditched town for a while, finding shelter and solace in an old shack he’d stumbled upon, you taking up the job of bringing him food and whatever else he would need to live.

His Jed Olsen days were just fine, him showing his face again and living with you until people linked the Jed alibi to the murders. Then he was hiding again.

You hid with him, being the errand boy/girl, and spending most days chilling around with him doing who-knows-what. You were like a sister/brother to him, and he was just the same to you.

He trusts you with his life, and he kills off anyone who bothers you. You can even make requests, like you would to a rad DJ at a party. Although this was different... being murder and all.

Any and all S/Os of yours must pass the ‘Danny Test’, wherein he sees if they’re good enough to date you. Most fail. He’s picky, and overprotective.

Brahms Heelshire

The first day your parents brought you to the Heelshire residence to spend time with their friends, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire, both you and Brahms were reluctant to meet another child.

Living a life of seclusion Brahms never imagined meeting someone hed actually care for enough to consider a friend. He was proven wrong.

He wanted to see you every day, and you wanted the same. You ended up having play dates every second day or so, and Brahms found himself actually growing very fond of you.

The fire was devestating, and you couldn’t sleep for weeks and weeks. In the future, an ad for a nanny job seemed like a shockingly nostalgiac idea, so you took the job to see tbe house where you made so many memories.

Brahms recognized you almost instantly. He basically rushed his parents out of the house so he could see you in action, in a natural environment where you could be yourself. He needed to know if it was really you.

Upon confirming that it was you, (Y/N), he showed himself that same day without fear. All it took for you to burst into happy tears was him saying your name in the same voice he had as a child.

Now, Brahms loves to reenact the old days, having tea parties and playing in the forest like he had as a child. He’s so happy to have you back!

He’s a very jealous man, so he’s never going to be fond of your S/O, but he’ll tolerate you having one as long as you promise not to leave him.

He won’t go in the walls very often anymore because he’s not afraid of you. He also won’t wear his mask much. His trust in you is infinite!

Pyramid Head

Before Pyramid Head became the monster he was, he had a normal life in a human world, with you glued to his side like two peas in a pod.

At school, he would keep you safe from bullies, using his abnormal height and strength to scare them off.

He always inwardly groaned when people would say the two of you were cute together, because neither of you liked each other like that.

The day P.H. went missing, you had been heartbroken. Who knew you would stumble upon him again years later in hell on earth?

When first running into Pyramid Head as we know him now, neither of you recognized each other. How could you, after all those years?

You would have been dead if you hadn’t spoken, and if he hadn’t recognized your voice. He was completely shocked.

Unable to speak, It was more than difficult to tell you thst he was him, your old best friend. After plenty of struggling you finally realize.

Now, he’s your ultimate bodyguard. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you. He knows Silent Hill like the back of his hand, so he’s like a guide as well.

He’ll do his very best to train you to defend yourself. He can’t lose you, not after you’ve finally returned again.

He’s got serious attachement issues, so he never leaves your side. Despite all the défense training, he won’t leave you alone for long.

Amanda Young

Amanda lived a rough childhood, so it was fantastic to have a friend like you to help her through it.

She was defiant, even as a child, so she stood up to anyone who would try to tease either of you. It usually resulted in a harsh beating, but she always walked away alright.

As she fell deeper and deeper into a dark spiral, she ignores your attempts to help, and before she knew it she was addicted to drugs. She wishes she’d have listened to you and your warnings.

When you heard she had been kidnapped by the infamous Jigsaw, you were horrified. You had never in a million years expected her to walk out alive, yet she did.

She kept her mentoring with John Kramer on the down low, keeping that new identity hidden. You were just glad she had gotten off of drugs.

Balancing a stable life with you and enough time with John was difficult and strenuous for your relationship. Sooner or later you grew curious as to where she always was and demanded an answer.

She told you. In a moment of vulnerability she spilled her guts, telling you everything about her gae with Jigsaw and it’s outcome, how she was training to kill. She had cried, afraid you would leave her or turn her in to the police.

Of course you did neither. After a bit of a rough patch where you had to get used to the idea, you and Amanda grew closer than ever. You even helped her with some traps and devices for her games.

You saw how she looked up to John like a father figure, glad that she had someone like that in her life again. John grew fond of you as well, and before you knew it, he was training both of you to be his disciples.

You and Amanda regarded each other as siblings for the rest of your days.

[highdwightofmylife]

Hellu!~♡ Can I request some hc for Danny, Joey (Legion) aaand Trapper on how they would react if their s/o feels dizzy and eventually faints? Nothing dramatic but I am curious how they would react! My english is not the best I am sorry QwQ I love your Blog btw!♡♡ So happy that I found it♡♡

asafhdshdfashf i love you too!!! also your english is better than mine honestly don’t worry

also i feel this ask on a personal level because i have really low blood pressure and an iron deficiency and i used to faint all the time and still do, occasionally  

Headcanons For a Dizzy, Fainting S/O

Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghostface

Can and will be an asshole when it come to your dizziness. If you tell him that you’re feeling dizzy, his automatic response is to grab you and spin you round. He’s an ass, I’m sorry. 

But he’ll only do it for a quick second. As soon as you squeak and tell him to stop, he will. He just finds it amusing, is all.

Does get worried when you faint though. He rushes to catch you whenever you start falling, because although he is an asshole, he also loves you dearly. It’s all hands to panic stations to catch you before you hurt yourself. 

He tries to wake you up at first, papping your cheeks and calling your name. When it becomes obvious that’s not working, he pulls you over his lap and cradles you. 

You don’t know it and you’ll never will, but he talks to you when you’re like this. Tells you about his day, tells you about passing things he sees while he’s waiting for you to wake up. He even, in a hushed, sad little voice, tells you that he misses you, and gently asks you to wake up soon.

Evan MacMillan | The Trapper

If you tell him you’re dizzy, he’ll make you sit down. Will literally force you to sit down. He’s very commanding and he knows exactly how to help. “Sit down, put your head between your knees, close your eyes. I’m getting water.” 

He takes care of you, even if he does it with a somewhat irked face. Your well-being matters to him, he’s just a grumpy shit. 

Fainting can come out of the blue, or you know it’s coming. If you know that it’s coming, you can grab onto his arm in a sudden flash and he’ll immediately know what the issue is. He’ll have an arm around your back to catch you in a hot second. 

He likes to keep you close, so he can easily tell how you’re feeling. He can tell when you’re dizzy, and he’ll instinctively put a hand out to reassure you, and for you to grab onto if you need the support.

Sudden faints freak him out. He tries his best to grab you, but sometimes he’s not close enough and he’s just not as fast as he wants to be. If you happen to hit the floor, he’s hurriedly blabbering apologies at you as he pulls to his lap, despite the fact you can’t hear them.

Just strokes your hair and patiently waits for you to wake up again, making sure you’re in a comfortable position. He always intently watches your face, waiting for a sign of movement other than sleepy breathing. The flicker of an eyelid, the twitch of your cheek. That sort of thing.

Joey | The Legion

Doesn’t notice when you’re dizzy most of the time. You usually have to tell him. But, when he is informed that you’re feeling like that, he quickly grows concerned. He’ll hold you by the arms and try to lead you somewhere he can sit you down.

He can’t quite understand the gist of what you’re feeling because it isn’t something he’s experienced with, but he tries his best! He gets that it must be awful and he wants to try and help. 

He’s a mess, throwing a million questions at you all at once. “What do you need? Water? To lie down? Should I get Sally or Herma-- No, not Herman, am I insane-- Talk to me, what’s going on?” He just gets all panicky. Surprising for someone who’s usually pretty chilled.

When you faint, he freaks at first. Always checks you over to make sure you didn’t bang your head or hurt something -- but he does normally catch you first. Joey has quick reflexes. 

Once he’s sussed out that you’re fine, you just, well, fainted, he calms down. 

Pats your head, blows on your face... Anything he can do to try and keep you cool and comfortable. When you wake up, he’s holding you to his chest and gently telling you how worried he was.

[brinnygetsstabbed]

[ DEADLY AGREEMENT // MOUSE’S MEMORIES]

She made a promise.

She made a promise to get herself into the woods when she could. Be it after Trial or when the others drifted away to do their own thing. To return to that hidden place, where nothing useful is. The edge of survivor territory. 

It’s dangerous, and she knows it’s dangerous. It’s just not compared to the doom looming over her if she doesn’t put herself in danger. There’s no choice. She’ll be hurt either way, it’s just a matter of postponing the pain. But, if she does this now, if she goes, maybe she can escape it for a bit. Make him happy, keep him calm.

Just fulfill the promise.

Her legs tremble with each step, the further she gets from the fire, the darker the world around her gets. Brin hates the feeling of being so alone, yet so surrounded at the same time. She has no bubble, no shield around herself to hide behind. Exposed, an easy target. Still, she pushes forward, going by uneven memory.

Lots of deals, the concepts of arrangements were vaguely thrown onto the table. She does something for him, and he lets her go. He lets her go and with that, he offers a mocking version of security. It’s easier to see the light when he’s not snuffing it out, when she’s still got her eyes. She can see how awful he is. How terrible she is for even listening, for not turning to her real friends for help. This will just isolate her more, only leaving him. The only person she’ll have left to turn to is the person who is hurting her.

the person who is using her. She knows it.

Yet still, she is walking.

The air shifts, the little pocket comes into view. A small area missing trees, a rock sits right in the center. The canopy still acts as a weird roof to this space. She doesn’t feel safe, but at least there’s no immediate danger. Not until he shows up, and he will. She knows he will. He always does.

Brin holds her arms tightly around herself, a slight shiver clings to her bones. Just wait. 

Time gives her room to think, to consider. To figure out a way to escape this, escape him. The game she fell into. It's a trap, and she curses herself for not seeing it sooner. What was so special about him anyway? She shouldn’t be so hooked on a killer’s attention, but she is. And he knows it.

Her thoughts trail off to analyzing him, again. Probably for the hundredth time, despite how much she hates it. Everything about him is so wrong, because it’s so normal. He can be nice, funny, caring. It’s all a goddamn lie, though. He doesn’t care. He can’t. He’s a killer, he’s killed her, several times now. And each time, it’s only gotten worse.

Like a knife dragging up her spine, Brinley’s mind screeches to a halt. Panic surges, the shaking and trembling is much worse. She’s exposed- actually exposed- now. Her eyes dart everywhere, looking for that white mask. 

She hears his sigh of satisfaction before she sees him, “Good, just making sure I’ve got your attention.” His voice is muffled, but finally he steps into view. He’s been hidden, probably watching her for at least a minute now. Bastard.

Her shaking is as bad as it could be, Brin swallows the ball of fear in her throat, only preparing to speak. Don’t say anything, yet, don’t set him off. This can be easy, just… Wait and listen.

He approaches so casually, stopping at the side of the rock, leaning against it. His hand pats the top of the dark stone, very politely asking- probably telling- Brin to take a seat next to him. With so much reluctance, she does. Her muscles tense, coiled like a spring, a bullet ready to fly; she’s ready to bolt. She wants to run away so bad, but being around him makes her crumble instead. She’s exposed anyway, running will only turn this into a very bloody discussion. 

“You’re early, that’s good,” He comments, tone unbearably gentle. Before saying anything else, the mask comes off, and is set on the rock, “I’d hate to have to chase you down outside a Trial, really.” 

Liar. He’s already done that.

Brin says nothing, her eyes are glued to the patchy grass. Only a hum of slight acknowledgment is let out, just to signal she’s listening. He has her full attention, well, her unharmed attention. It’s the eye contact that really hooks her brain. He’s terrifying. Something about silver eyes is so… Intense. It’s migraine inducing. 

Of course that’s not good enough for him, though. No, the selfish prick needs more than her everything. Still maintaining the delicate demeanor, his finger nudges under her chin, bringing her gaze snapping up to his. The reaction is more than immediate. No touch, bad touch, she’s already overwhelmed. Fine, he wants 101% of her attention? He’s got it.

As always, his eyes pierce her, his presence digs into her soul. Like a magnet, she’s pulled in, regardless of the struggle she tries to put up. He looks too smug, too happy with how easy it is to throw her brain into a paper shredder. For a moment, he simply scans her, his face changes to concerned, worried maybe, “Aw, Sweetheart, why are you shaking?”

He should know why, “I- It’s… I’m just nervous, Jed, it’s fine.” Brin struggles to find her voice, when it comes out, it’s weak, just barely a few squeaks of an explanation. 

The vibe changes, with it, a chuckle rumbles in his chest, setting her nerves on a razor's edge. She wants to run, to escape her own skin, but she’s locked in place by conditioning. Fear tactics and pain, but with the glowing lure of the catharsis of comfort. He’s able to turn on a dime, shifting from monster to some sort of guardian. It’s wrong, it’s so unbearably wrong and it hurts, but she can’t get away from it. No matter how hard she tries, “Relax, bunny, I'm not gonna hurt you, I just wanna talk.” He’s facing her more now, looming closer, “I’ve got a little job for you.”

A… Job? Jesus, what the hell does that even mean? The flicker of actual fear in her eyes makes him hum, “Don’t worry, it’s easy.” His reassurance isn’t convincing, “We’re both new here, aren’t we? Why don’t we help each other, then? All I need you to do is act as a sort of… Tracker.” Now she’s just confused, “Stick to a teammate, accidentally damage generators, don’t touch the totems if any are lit. Don’t waste your time trying to get them off hooks.” Ah, so he just wants her to lock herself away and be useless? Her heart hurts at the idea.

Brin’s eyes finally fall, her head turns away, her arms hugged tighter around herself, “I can’t.” She murmurs, finding speaking much more difficult, “I can’t betray them like that, I'm sorry…”

Again, the emotions in the air grow agitated, all this altering is giving the survivor whiplash. This conversation could go a lot faster if he just gave a clear order and left, but he’s never that simple. Quietly, a cooing hush comes from his lips, “Hey, it’s ok. They won’t know, they don’t need to know.” 

… She shouldn’t feel relieved to hear that.

“I can just make them think it’s all me. They’re mean to me, Brinny. Them and the other killers.” Jed’s tone gets hurt, dull, melancholic, “Didn’t the other kids out there push you around? Help me out, sweetheart. In return, I can let you go more often.” 

Cynicism mixed with the hatred of death makes this offer sound lovely. It’s not, it’s wrong. Everything about what they are is wrong. He’s a killer, a murderer and a stalker, and she shouldn’t be so willing to talk to him. To be near him with no one else around. Realistically, it’s horrifying, but in the moment, so many different emotions mix into something she can’t describe. 

Is he even actually bullied by the other survivors? Sure, she’s not always there to see it, but she shouldn’t feel empathy so quickly either. Jed, being bullied? That doesn’t really make him seem scary, just pitiful. Her brain is tearing itself apart just to figure out what he’s trying to do. Is he trying to get her emotions? He already has that. Is he… Trying to seem human? Weak? Is he trying to earn her pity so she’ll help him? Or is he trying to make her dislike the other survivors? To dislike even other killers?

None of it makes sense. 

She can’t answer, she can’t do much other than sit and fester in her own panicked confusion. She wants to know which game he’s playing so she can try and outsmart him, but the possibility of more than one game is what’s throwing her off. It’s already hard enough to constantly have to remind herself that she’s being played in the first place. She’s so desperate to feel something other than danger, and with him having given her that, she just wants it back. She wants the nice Jed, the Jed that serves as the personal bubble she lacks.

But this isn’t nice Jed. He’s scheming and plotting and if she threatens his plans, he’ll get angry.

And when he gets angry, he gets violent.

Brin doesn’t want violent Jed.

A brow is raised at her silence, his outward presence seems to get stronger just by him willing it so. How does he do that? He hasn’t moved an inch, yet somehow he feels so much more intimidating than before, “Ignoring me now, are we?” His tone is subtly scolding, that’s never a good sign.

It makes her practically jump from her spot, taking a wary step back just to have room to think. It’s so hard to think when he’s that close, all attention is glued to him just out of self-preservation, “N- No! Just… I'm sorry I don’t know… I wanna help, I do but-” 

“But what, Brinny?” He asks, cutting her off sharply, “I don’t like it when you lie to me. You don’t want to help me, you just wanna make sure your little survivor buddies keep caring about you.”

Tears bite at the corners of her eyes. The air is hot, it’s thin but so heavy and it’s getting harder and harder to breathe. She’s cowering, another step back, “J- Jed, no, please just listen.” Brin pleads, trying not to cry, “I can… I’ll help, yes, but- But I can’t betray them, I need to help them.” Ok, ok. Her voice finds a slight levelness, the shaking in it isn’t as noticeable. Her desire to help her true friends is helpful in combating the fear his now harsh stare inflicts.

But, like with everything good, it’s short lived.

He strides closer, brow creased in apparent irritation, “Who do you want to help, then?” He questions, “You can’t get greedy and do both, Brin. It’s them or me.” 

God- she’s backing up as he gets closer, soon there won’t be anywhere else to run. The ultimatum is agony. He doesn’t have any right to do that to her, she doesn’t- she isn’t his item. She isn’t a knife, she’s not some tool. She isn’t a spy for his bullshit. Justified anger mixes with fear, leaving a bitter taste in her dry mouth, “Don’t- you can’t… That’s not fair, don’t make me choose.” Please. She can’t do that, she just can’t. That’s why she goes to the others to guide her. 

Whatever she said, it clearly snaps something inside his head. His hand shoots forward, grabbing her roughly by the jaw and pulling her forward, “I’m giving you options here, sweetheart.” Jed growls, glaring right into her soul, “Them or me. Who can really protect you from the other killers?”

That’s not a rhetorical question. She wishes it was, though, because now she’s only got so many seconds to come up with an answer, “...You.” That’s not what she wants to hear. Sadly, that hardly matters now.

“And who can get you out of more Trials?”

“...” For a moment, her brain refuses to speak, only breaking under the pressure of his grip tightening on her jaw, “You.” 

“Who can get you better food?”

It might seem silly, but food matters here. In a different way, obviously. It keeps the occupants of the Fog sane for much longer. Keeping sensations alive, keeping the concept of life itself alive, “You.” 

Finally his hold relaxes, as does his posture, “I do. So won’t you just do this little favor? I’ll still let you go, Bunny, just make a few simple mistakes.” 

Brinley can’t make herself look at him anymore. All of that mental training crumbles under the stress that his eyes bring. She could look into them all day, if only he wasn’t so goddamn terrifying. 

Her hands instinctively grabbed onto his wrist, not even looking to try and pry him off, just clinging to support. Her stomach is tied into knots, those knots are in other knots. She’d puke if she could, but sickness is strange here. So, she’s left with queasy nausea. She can’t do this, not to them, she just- think of the good. The stories, the laughing around the campfires. The little celebrations after they all get out of a Trial together. Those little moments where they’re all just humans, suffering together. Calm silence, small gestures.

That’s what she should be holding onto, that’s the good. Not this, not a killer. If she just told them about what was happening, they’d help. They’d all be there for her. Right? How could she have even considered the concept of working with the enemy just to survive? 

“...N- I just…” Her main objective is escape, just she’s not willing to pay the price. She can’t accept this offer, he’ll treat it like a bloodpact. It practically could be, given all the blood he’s drained from her. No, she won’t be trapped in that agreement, because if she fails at it, he’ll probably torture her worse than before. Worse than a mori. Nothing is worse than being the only one left in a Trial with him, “Please, I- I can help in a different way, I just need time to think.”

Now she’s done it.

Attempting to toss out another, much less scary idea is impossible. His hand shifts, clamping down on her throat. Her own hands grip his wrist harder, nails digging into the cloth of his shroud, “Tick tock, Brinley.” Shit. Full name. No nicknames. Never did she think she’d prefer to be called ‘Brinny’ over her regular name before now, “I’m not interested in anything else. You do this favor, or I’ll hunt you for sport, even outside the Trials.”

No amount of good memories can keep the streak of selflessness going. Trials are already hard enough, sometimes other killers already give her enough hassle. She can’t speak, but she can try, nodding as she does, “O- o… Ok. Ye...s” 

The guilt is agonizing, but if she didn’t answer, he’d probably strangle her to death. Brin wants to keep the dying to Trials, as much as she can.

Her response seems to please him enough, anyway.

Jed hums, letting go of her neck, gently holding her face after she coughs and wheezes for a moment or two, “See? There we go, it’ll be easy, I promise.” He’s back to being sweet. Fear does something wicked to her brain. Sweet means good, no pain, no danger. Fear also makes her want to break down. No pain? Time to go looking for something secure to crumble against. He can see it, too. Fuck, he can probably even sense how close her brain is to shattering completely. Indigo eyes shine with overflowing tears, all it takes to make them roll down her face are more gentle words, “Hey, you’re ok, Sweetheart, you’re ok.”

She’s not ok, but she can be. 

Swaying forward, her eyes squeeze shut, her shoulders twitch in tandem with muted sobs. Nothing matters anymore, she doesn’t have the energy to care about what she just signed off on, she just needs to hide. Jed is the only thing to hide against.

So, she lets herself break down. He’s been particularly good at putting her back together. And then tearing her apart. Over, and over, and over.

Though, maybe with this, that’ll happen less.

God she hopes so.

[broadwaybaggins]

"I'm calling in that favor you owe me. Actually, I'm calling in all the favors you owe me," she said. First line fanfic

"I'm calling in that favor you owe me. Actually, I'm calling in all the favors you owe me," she said.

“I owe you favors already? That doesn’t sound like me.” Emma grinned at Mary as she rifled through her dufflebag, searching for the contraband candy and other assorted junk food that she had stashed there. Lights’ out for the campers had been thirty minutes ago, and the counselors were meeting up to “unwind” after the long day--which meant drinking, s’mores making, and other such shenanigans.

“I’m serious, Emma. Oh, hey, Cheeto me.” Mary caught the bag of Cheetos that Emma tossed her way and opened it in one practiced motion. “I need to know everything you can tell me about that Jed Foster.”

“Ah. Trouble in the health lodge?”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Only if you call him second-guessing every single decision I made trouble. He even asked me if I was sure I wanted to use that brand of calamine lotion on Hattie’s mosquito bites.”

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you about him. He’s a bit...prickly.”

“That’s the understatement of the year. You know what he told me? ‘I know more about these things than you.’ As if we’re not both pre-med and there’s really that many ways to treat a damn mosquito bite. What is his problem?”

Emma shrugged, opening up a bag of Sun Chips. “He usually works here with his girlfriend, but she got a fancy internship in LA instead this year. Didn’t even talk to him about it, so I guess he’s pretty pissed. He shouldn’t take it out on you, though, that’s not cool.”

Mary sighed, running a hand through her bobbed hair. “It’s not. At least he’s decent with the kids. That’s about the only thing that kept me from trying to beat him to death with an Ace bandage.”

“He’s nice once you get to know him, I promise. It just...takes a while.”

Mary considered her thoughtfully. “Samuel said the same thing. I guess that’s as good an endorsement as any.”

“Laaaaaaaaaaaay-deeeeeeeeeeees!” a new voice sang, and Emma watched as Anne Hastings strode into view. She had a tote bag emblazoned with various logos for Broadway shows slung over her shoulder, and from inside it Emma could hear bottles clinking. “I hereby declare this party started.” She took one strap of the bag off her shoulder and began to rifle through it. “What’s your poison? I’ve got wine coolers, Fireball, a little bit of peach schnapps--”

Mary made a face. “Got anything good in there?”

Anne fixed Mary with a withering look. “Excuse me, baroness, but some of us actually have to rely on our paltry counselor’s salary! I was a bit limited in my selections at the local excuse for a liquor store!”

“It’s okay, Anne. I’m sure the others will have something else if Mary prefers,” Emma said quickly, wanting to avoid an argument. She had seen the way Mary had bristled at Anne’s baroness comment, and how Anne’s eyes were glinting with annoyance. “Frank usually brings some Bud Light or something. It’s all good.”

“Fine,” Mary said after a second. Anne responded by reaching for a wine cooler out of her bag and taking a swig. “Come on, girls,” she said, linking arms with Emma and leaving Mary to bring up the rear. “The fire waits for no woman.”

They quickly made their way to the firepit where the other counselors were gathering. They walked quickly and quietly, not necessarily because they were afraid of being caught--the only real danger was if they woke up Mrs. Brannan, whose tiny cabin was right next to the dining hall--but because the act of sneaking around made everything seem so much more fun and exciting.

They were among the last to arrive. Samuel and Charlotte were there, sitting close together, Sam’s guitar propped against the log next to them. Emma saw Alice wearing tiny cutoffs and what was perhaps the tiniest bikini top known to man. Emma wasn’t sure how she wasn’t freezing her buns off. Anne immediately abandoned them when she spotted Byron, launching herself at him as if he were a soldier returning from war that she hadn’t seen in years. 

“How long has that been a thing?” Mary asked as she watched Byron shove his tongue down Anne’s throat. She turned away and reached for one of the Bud Lights that Emma had mentioned. She popped the top and took a sip, grimacing. “Beer is gross.”

“And yet we drink it.”

The arrival of Jed Foster caused both girls to turn towards him. He, too, was clutching a can of Bud that was currently sweating into his palm. A guitar was slung over his shoulder like a backpack. “Hey, Jed,” Emma said kindly.

“My dear Miss Green. How is life in the art barn?”

“Oh, you know how it is.” 

His eyes flickered over to Mary almost nervously. “Mary.”

“Jed.” She nodded at his guitar. “You play?”

“When the moment calls for it,” he said coolly.

All right, this was interesting. Despite her earlier animosity, Emma could see clear interest in Mary’s eyes as she gazed at Jed. Anne would say that Mary had a lady-boner for him, and Emma wasn’t entirely sure she was wrong.

“I’m gonna...get a drink,” she mumbled, leaving the two to work through their mutual sexual tension in their own time. She turned and almost immediately collided with a warm body that smelled of campfire and pine. She knew because her nose collided with his shirt.

“Woah!” Emma felt hands on her upper arms--she’d worn a tank top and was already starting to feel chilly, but the contact caused warmth to go straight through her--to steady her. “My bad. Sorry, Emma.”

“Henry!” There he was, wearing the same outfit as earlier when they’d been in the loft together, but now his sleeves were rolled up a little and he was barefoot. There was a band-aid on his thumb that hadn’t been there earlier. “What happened to you?”

Henry shrugged. “Little disagreement with a bee. Jed and Mary fixed me up. Can I get you a drink? We have quite a selection. Beer, or beer. Or...” he grinned and held up another six-pack, already half gone. “Beer!”

“Anne brought some stuff, but I think she’s...busy.”

“That’s one word for it. Has she worked here long?”

“Yeah, this is her...” Emma tried to think. It was a little hard to focus when he was looking at her like that, the firelight shining on his face. “Fourth summer? Fifth summer? I can’t remember. Fourth, I think. She started when she was like seventeen.”

“What’s the deal with the accent?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Like, is it an act, or...”

Emma laughed. “I can see why you’d think so, but it’s actually real. She’s English. Or half English, at least. I can’t remember which parent.”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”

Henry winced as Byron’s voice rang out through the camp. He had climbed up onto a stump just outside of the circle of logs around the fire and held one of Anne’s bottles high above his head. “Isn’t he worried about waking the kids?”

“Byron doesn’t worry about anything.”

“Your attention please!” Byron bellowed. “Counselors of our beloved Camp Green Wood! Another summer has begun! Another summer of camraderie, friendship, and shenanigans--”

“Get to the fuckin’ point, Hale!” Frank called out, his arm slung over Alice’s shoulder. His words caused a ripple of laughter around the circle.

“Come on, let’s sit down. He does this every year and we need to be sitting for it, it’s a whole thing,” Emma leaned up to whisper in Henry’s ear. They made their way to the circle and sat down on the only remaining empty log, between Mary and Jed and Sam and Charlotte. It was a bit crowded by this point, so Emma ended up with her entire side pressed up against Henry. She said a silent prayer of thanks that she’d stolen a bottle of Alice’s signature Georgia Peach body spray.

Byron put a dramatic finger to his lips. In case the message wasn’t abundantly clear, Anne’s loud “Shhhhhhhhh!”, followed by “Shut the fuck up, Stringfellow!” brought about the desired dramatic silence.

Byron hopped off the stump, still brandishing the bottle. “I hereby declare the summer officially....” he paused for effect. “Started!”

He smashed the bottle against the stump like he was christening a yacht. It exploded, and the assembled counselors let out appreciative claps and cheers that almost drowned out Anne’s screech of “I didn’t put the tarp down! You said you’d let me put the tarp down! YOU ARE CLEANING UP EVERY BIT OF THAT BROKEN GLASS, BYRON HALE!”

“He does that every year?” Henry asked, his expression unreadable.

“Every year. And every year he forget to do it in a way that doesn’t release broken glass everywhere. You can set your watch by it.”

“This place is crazy,” Henry remarked, but he didn’t sound scared off by this fact. Someone was passing around a bag of marshmallows, and Henry took two and handed one over to Emma.

“What kind of marshmallow toaster are you?” he asked. “Let it get nice and golden, or put it straight in the fire?”

Charlotte handed Emma one of the marshmallow skewers, and Emma answered by sticking it right into the center of the flames. Henry looked aghast.

“No!” he cried. “No, no, wrong! You’ve got to do it slowly, gently...”

“It’s no use, Rev,” Charlotte said, nudging Emma with her shoulder. “I’ve tried to talk her out of it so many times. Our Emma just lives for chaos.”

Emma retrieved her burning marshmallow and quickly blew out the remaining flames, leaving it charred just the way she liked it. “You’re both wrong. This is the only way to do it.”

Sam had been strumming his guitar gently, tuning it as Jed worked on his. Mary perched nearby, eating a s’more and pretending she wasn’t watching. Sam gave one final strum and looked up. “All right! Any requests?”

“You promised me some Sheryl Crow,” Charlotte reminded him.

“Later, Char. You don’t start a set with Sheryl Crow.” Jed’s face implied that such a thing was ludicrous. Emma wondered how much trouble she’d be in if she throw her flip-flop at him.

Perry, one of the junior counselors, had been creeping their way. He tapped Sam on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“Huh? Oh, sure, why not.” Sam conferred with Jed for a moment before counting them off. “Okay, one-two-three-four.”

“When I wake up, oh I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you!”

The song was met with a mix of groans and cheers. Henry looked up from assembling his s’more with precision and laughed. “This is definitely gonna be an interesting summer.”

Emma grinned and hoped she wasn’t imagining the way he seemed to lean closer to her as he said it.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (44)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

When you work the next day... it’s better to avoid spending an entire evening having fun. I'm not saying you don't have the right! but only... avoid returning home at 2am. You were already sleeping in the van, Danny had to hold on until he reached his bed. And it only took him 5 seconds to fall asleep. He wasn't drunk, just exhausted. And the awakening... was not the most pleasant. Between the rays of the sun that came to heat his skull and the phone that vibrated, his heart swayed as best he could towards the most bearable.

Surprisingly, he wasn't late. But it wasn't going to take long if he didn't rush a little. He still sent a message to Melina so that she could warn the boss. He got up, took a shower, and then took medication to calm the onset of a headache that hit him. Then he went to the kitchen where he found a note from you next to a plate where breakfast was resting. Danny smiled as he took the piece of paper in his hand.

“To help you get back on your feet for the day. Thank you again for last night I had a lot of fun. See you tonight. I love you. (Y/n)”

“Wow... it's an adorable message. That's the base, but coming from her it makes it even cuter.” said a main voice which Danny knows very well. He raised his head to see Jed, his alter ego, leaning against the kitchen worktop. “It's even amazing that she reacts like this by knowing who you are.”

“Better that it happens like this between the two of us rather than reluctantly sticking my knife in her throat, don't you think?” Danny responds, sipping his coffee.  

“I hope you had a great time last night. And that you thought about finding an excuse for Hembrook in case we were potentially late. Because don't count on me to blow you one.”

“I warned Melina and don't worry, I have a valid excuse. And in a way, since you're in my head, you had fun too.”

“It's true.” replied Jed putting his glasses back on his nose.  

As he took another sip of coffee, Danny suddenly heard whispers... whispers that he has already heard. that very night. And obviously, Jed hears them too. Actually... he has been hearing these whispers for a little while. Since McKellan's murder to be more precise. And it never stopped, quite the contrary.

“I've heard these noises before... that night in my dreams.” said Danny looking at Jed.  

“You quickly forget that I’m part of your mind. What you hear, live or dream, I feel it too. But I confess that compared to you it’s less.... precise. Blurrier. So let the mental psychologist that I am... help you analyse what you saw. Tell me about this dream.” responds Jed.  

“Tsk. Fine. I was... in a kind of... mist. I could barely see the trees around me. I walked, for a long time, but the more I walked the more I felt like I was standing still. Suddenly I hear screams. (Y/N’)’s screams. And when I turn back to her screams, I see like... giant spider legs grab me and take me into the mist. Then nothing.”

“Mist... giant spider legs... If I remember correctly, you don't have arachnophobia? Because I don't see how she can appear and see in a mist. Less how she could catch you.”

“Thank you very much it helps me a lot nerd. Don't you have something more interesting to say? You're supposed to be as smart as I am.” Replied Danny annoyed.

“Well in this case... I would say that you may have attracted a mystical entity to you. And that she is looking for different way to reach you. And Only God knows what she wants from you.” responds Jed.  

“Don't tell me you believe in all this mystical stuff. it's just bullshit to attract people and take their money.”

“I remind you, Danny, that I’m the opposite of you. What you don't believe, I believe. We don’t know if hell and paradise exist, if there is an infinity of dimensions... or if our world... isn’t connected to another. Mystical things are not to be taken lightly. Be careful. Your dream may be a sign, a proof.”

Danny sighed before doing the dishes, taking his belongings and leaving the apartment, while Jed shrugged his shoulders shaking his head and sighing before disappearing. It has always been very difficult for these two opposites to get along, and when that happens, it’s to be noted with a white cross. Danny got into his van and set off for the newspaper. Despite the way he got up a little late, he arrived at work with only 2 minutes late. Without depressing the accelerator, just driving normally. Either there was no one on the road, or he wasn't that late.

He climbed the steps, arrived at the offices, greeted his colleagues, and settled down to begin writing his article. As soon as he starts writing, Danny is unstoppable. A bomb could explode, he would not move an inch. After 2 hours, he stopped, stretched his arms and back, and then got up for coffee. And a part of Neptune's pie that you had delivered with other pastries.

While he was in the break room, drinking a sip of coffee, Danny heard whispers again, the same as those in the apartment. He turned his head to the door at the back of the room, leading to the stock of coffee and other food. What surprised Danny wasn’t the whispers, but a kind of black mist that looked like it was escaping from the door. There are no electrical appliances in this room, nor are there any flammable products. So where does this mist come from? The whispers became clearer, becoming voices. voices... distorted, impossible to say if it was a man or a woman who spoke.

“Danny... Danny... Come with us. Come and join me in the mist... Soothe my hunger... for eternity.” Said the voice.  

“What? How do you know my name?” responds Danny approaching the door.  

“Come with us. You will be able to extinguish your thirst for blood... and mine.” replied the voice as the door slightly open letting the tip of a giant spider's leg come out of it. The same as that of his dream.

“Jed? Is everything alright?” said suddenly a woman voice.  

Danny turned to see Melina in front of the coffee machine, raising an eyebrow at his colleague's strange action. The latter nodded, pretending to have heard noise, but that it may have just been a lack of sleep. Melina nodded, she was obviously aware of the little evening you both had, before having her coffee and leaving the room. Danny glanced again at the door that seemed normal again. No more mist. No more whispers. Maybe it was just his imagination.  

Danny returned to his desk and resumed writing his article until he finished it. He took it out and went to his boss's office to show it. As usual, nothing to complain about. Then, Mattew came to present another article he was writing on his own. He and Danny left the room to return to their posts. Melina joins them a few minutes after.  

“Tell me both. I know it's going to sound a little weird, but do you believe in mystical stuff? You know premonitory dreams and all that stuff.” asks Danny suddenly.  

“No, not really.” said Mattew.  

“My grandmother believed in it; besides she had a gift of Shamanism and communication with the dead. As far as I'm concerned, I believe in it a little, but let's say that I will look for a more rational explanation before going into the supernatural. Why?” said Melina.  

“I thought it was just bullshit...have you changed your mind?" Said Jed with a smile in Danny’s mind.  

“Shut you’re f*ck up.” responds Danny mentally before looking at Melina: “Well let's say I've been having a pretty weird dream lately. And I'm looking for someone who could explain to me what that means.”  

“Tell me more. Maybe I could enlighten your lantern.” said Melina.  

Danny recounted his dream in detail. Mattew listened without understanding too much, sometimes leaning his head to one side or the other and sometimes raising his eyebrows. Melina, didn’t move an inch, listening attentively, closing her eyes from time to time, as if to think on the meaning of all this.

“OK...the reasoned side of my brain would say that... You're worried right now about (Y/N). With everything that has happened... it wasn't easy for both of you. I think the mist and the legs of spiders... represent the dangers that can arise at any time to attack you. And the fact that you get dragged and hear (Y/N) screaming, it would mean that you're afraid of not being able to protect her. My mystic side says that you attract some...negative spirits. Negative entities which try to...get you in their sides. Something so powerful that neither you or (Y/N) could resist. Maybe the revenge of a dead man... Hoggins or McKellan... or Mike. They all had a tooth against you because you were rummaging through their businesses while others would have given up.” said Melina.  

“How amazing. I've already heard that somewhere... Oh, yes! I was the one who told you that just this morning.” said Jed in Danny’s mind.  

“f**k you.” responds Danny mentally. “Well, thanks Melina. I hope it’s just fear and not some mystical thing...”

The rest of the day passed not without Danny hearing the whispers again. But he ignored them. It wasn't real to him. He returned to the apartment and went to his office to observe the now striped photos of Mike, McKellan and Hoggins. Vengeful spirits huh... Ridiculous. And why not death itself while we're at it?  It was your turn to enter the apartment slightly tired but happy. Danny left his office with his bag for his... second job. Ghostface is going out tonight.

“Wasn't it enough for you to kill Hoggins? do you always need more?” you said looking at him.

“Always Honey, always. Did you really believe that I was going to stop and become a model citizen? No no no... Once you dive into it, it's like a drug. You can't stop. But if it can reassure you, it will be a quick and painless death. He or she will not feel anything.” responds Danny with a sneaky smile.  

On his last words, Danny sent you a kiss before leaving. He set out in an uncrowded area of Roseville, making sure he was not seen and annoyed. He put on his Ghostface’s outfit, went up to the roof of a building and with his binoculars he observed the surroundings. He thought back to Melina's word. What if she was right? after all, he had to admit that these voices he heard, manifested themselves when McKellan died. But until now, he had never paid attention to it, it was tiredness for him. That’s all.  

“Tsk. I'm not going to start believing these bullshits... it will eventually pass.” said Danny to himself.

“You should believe it.” said Jed.  

Danny grumbled before looking through his binoculars again. He eventually catches a glimpse of his next victim. Poor little thing who lives her life peacefully, imagining what she will do tomorrow. Unfortunately, tomorrow will never come. After all, it's not as if the inhabitants of this neighbourhood are saints. But what Danny didn't know was that he was being watched. Not by someone. But by something. A thing that, the more Danny killed, the more the desire of this thing to have him in his ranks grew.

Until the day he will take him...and you too.

***

(There you go! We are still approaching the end of DSS little by little and I saw that you were 71 people to follow me! I could never thank you enough for following me all this time! When I compare the first chapters of DSS with the latest writings, I feel like my way of writing and telling has changed. For the better, I hope. And I hope I will continue to offer you stories that you will like! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the other ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya! )

[insomniacsleepwalker]

Normal (Part 1)- An Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

Before

The day starts off differently than usual. For starters, there is a sense of un-reality to it, as though it has been a dream for too long for it to be real, so waking up and proceeding with a morning routine like any other day feels like I am lying about something. I never did plan out the details of what I would do on the morning of. I suppose I never saw the point of over planning given that at that point, it was simply wishful thinking. But alas, here I am, making coffee for myself on the morning of setting out on tour. My movements are also quite hurried as I go through my morning like I would with any other, even though I am not running late, nor am I doing anything out of the ordinary so far, there is a jump in my step and a fidget to my excitement that I can only chalk away as the staple mixture of excitement and nervousnes.

There is a text from him waiting on my phone when I go to pick it up to go through it as I sip my morning coffee.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Hope you’re all set for tour! Drinks on me after tonight’s show!

I can’t help but smile as I text back: Yep all set! Looking forward to it!

There are other messages and emails, mostly pertaining to admin things such as setting up skype meetings with other clients and some agents reaching out with debut pieces. I have to put my phone down for a moment as I lean back, close my eyes, take deep breaths and remind myself that I still have a job to do and that part of the deal with Clara was to manage my other projects along with this one and under no circumstances am I to forget that. The thought does clench at my appetite rendering to nothing more than a bowl of fruit. Knowing my response to the thought of added responsibility, and so to keep myself sane I pretend that it is any other day.

The pretending does get a tad bit more difficult when I have to wheel my suitcase out of my flat, double check the locks and walk into the office all set for travel with my colleagues eyeing me with looks of either envy or curiousity or in a few cases like I am a zoo animal of sorts. I get it. It is a big deal and nobody was expecting me to get the project, including myself, and given the circumstances (some might say the cost, while others would call it perks), of getting a big client is not met with the usual response of celebration. There is one pair of dark eyes which exude nothing but pride, and ones that approach me as I wheel the giant suitcase into my office.

“Today’s the day, then?” Jemimah, or as she likes to be called, Jed, squeaks excitedly as she follows me in.

“Yep, from the looks of it you would think that I was going on a year long holiday to Cancun.” I say.

I take a seat behind my desk and Jed follows, opting to lean her weight on the desk instead of sitting down.

“Don’t mind them,” She says, “They’re just jealous.”

“Should I tell them that I still have to manage all the our other authors at the same time?”

“It might help.” She concedes.

“Christ, I’m bricking myself.” I say, putting my elbows on the desk, “It’s the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.”

“Didn’t you quit being a doctor?” She asks.

I consider this for a moment.

“Nope, this is definitely scarier.”

She laughs and comes up behind me to give me a tight hug. I reciprocate by holding on to her forearm.

“You will be fine.” She says, “Storytelling is in your bones and I have seen you take the most abysmal plots and the sloppiest writing and turn them into best sellers! This guy actually writes for a living!”

“Songs.” I mumble.

“He tells his stories,” she continues, “and he does it well and I am sure that you both will be able to create a masterpiece with his words and your eye for structure. Plus, it’s Ed Sheeran. He could spit on a napkin and that would sell. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about the selling,” I say, breaking away from the hug, “I’m a fiction editor. This is super non-fiction. I am way out of my depth.”

“You have me and a team of other editors a phone call away!”

I throw her a look.

“You have me!” She says after a moment, eliciting a laugh out of me.

“Everything will work out great,” she continues, “you’re going to become a celebrity editor, Clara will promote you, maybe give you your own imprint! You’ll introduce me to your famous friends, we’ll get married and have kids and everything is going to be great!”

I laugh again and we continue to talk about our respective clients and different storylines that we have to balance to make sure that one does not accidently leak into another. Jed is one of the most talented Non-fiction editors out there, and the fact that I have her in my corner gives me some relief. It has occurred to me that perhaps she would be better suited to the project and given that she has no prior connection to Ed, she wouldn’t be getting served as dirty the looks as I am.

“Don’t you have Tom coming in today?” She asks out of nowhere, possibly trying to distract me from my own mind.

“Oh yes!” I say, accepting the distraction as a welcome one, “We have to discuss his recent pages.”

“You don’t like them?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Ah.” She has a knowing look, which I can recognise from a mile away.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “Just a really hot author is looking for an excuse to hang out with you, but other than that...”

I roll my eyes.

“I don’t-“ I begin to groan.

“Sleep with clients!” She cuts me off, “I’m painfully aware, but he isn’t going to be a client when you’re done editing!”

I look at her with a raised eyebrow and she groans in frustration, beginning to make her way out of my office. She reaches the door and pauses suddenly.

“You do find him hot, though, right?”

“Oh definitely.” I answer, quite honestly.

She smiles and raises her eyebrows at me before skipping away. I giggle at her childishness, but can’t help but wonder whether what she is insinuating is true or not. As attractive and flirtatious as Tom is, he doesn’t strike me as the kind who sleeps with a colleague. Not that it matters, since I have no time. It might be a good distraction though.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Ed:

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Cold Feet?

I furrow my brows.

Me: Who told you?

Ed Fucking Sheeran: You’ve been quiet for a while. Would’ve had about thirty different texts from you by now if you weren’t nervous.

I sigh.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Wot’s there to be nervous about?!

Me: I’ve been getting dirty looks all morning. And what did we say about spelling?

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Fuck ‘em.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Sorry, fornicate them.

I giggle again and let myself feel a little more relaxed. This will be good, I tell myself. A new beginning out of my comfort zone and even if it isn’t good, at least I’ll still have Ed.