#i told myself i was gonna try to stop addressing you in my writing like you're going to read it but here we are

[3-vi-3]

you probably don't remember my face by now but

i wonder if you remember how it felt being loved by me;

if you remember me at all or if you chose to forget because you would rather not

[scarletqueenx]

chapter five - witch city

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Since you had told the Winchester brothers that you weren't going to join them on the next hunt, Dean had been trying to hide his concern for you. You had decided to go to the address Bela had left written down for you in hopes of finding answers. You didn't know exactly what answers, but if they were about your older brother or the demon that had possessed him, you needed to find them.

Part of Dean's concern came from where you wanted them to leave you while they headed to Albany, New York for a vampire case. Truth was, you felt the same way as he did. It seemed like a twisted joke that the address where you were supposed to find answers would be in Salem, Massachusetts, of all places.

Witch City, people called it, due to the trials that took place in 1692.

"Are you sure you don't want us to go with you?" Dean asked as he stopped the car in front of a motel.

"I'm just gonna visit an old friend. I'll be fine." You assured him. "Besides, you guys need to go to New York and stop those vampires before more people end up dead."

"Yeah, I know. It's just... it had to be Salem of all places?" Dean sighed, looking at you through the rearview mirror. Sam couldn't help but smile with amusement at his brother's obvious concern for you.

"Believe me, I thought the same thing when my friend sent me the address." You admitted, leaning forward against the back of their seats. "But she doesn't know anything about hunting or the supernatural."

"Okay. Just... call if you need anything, okay?"

"You know, you're really cute when you worry." You said before leaving a kiss on his cheek. That gesture caught Dean by surprise, making him blush slightly. "Sam, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"And who's gonna make sure you don't do anything stupid?" Dean asked.

"I'm not going on a vampire hunt."

"No, you're going out with your friend."

"Yeah, and I know how to protect myself from pervs." You assured. "Be careful, okay?"

"You too." Dean sighed.

You smiled slightly, waving goodbye and grabbing you duffel bag to leave the interior of the Impala. Once alone, Dean noticed his brother's gaze on him and an amused smile on his lips.

"What?" He asked, letting out a annoyed sigh.

"Nothing." Sam answered, looking away from him. "I thought you were mad at her about the crossroads demon."

"I was. I am. But I also know her well enough to know when she's lying. I don't know what she's hiding, but she's not going to visit an old friend." Dean stated, starting the car up again as he watched you walk into the motel lobby.

"You think she's gonna try something else to save you?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you'd like her to." He sighed. "It's okay, Sam, I get it. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay."

Sam looked back at him.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you live your life. You're stronger than me." Dean declared, leaving the motel parking lot. Sam cleared his throat. "You are! You are... you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for... putting you through all this, I am."

Staring at him with narrowed eyes, Sam lost his patience.

"You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself."

"What?"

"I don't want an apology from you! And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, well, excuse me." Dean snorted.

"So would you please quit worrying about me? I mean that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you're dying!" Sam exclaimed. Dean said nothing but smirked annoyingly. "So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?"

"I think I should call Henry. He'll make sure Freya doesn't do anything stupid." Dean spoke again, changing the subject completely.

"You are unbelievable." Sam snorted angrily, rolling his eyes and turning his gaze away from him.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After Dean informed Henry that you had made a stop in Salem, the man wouldn't stop calling you. However, you decided to ignore his calls for the time being. Your head focused on what you had gone to do in the Massachusetts town.

Although you didn't know exactly what you were looking for, you confusion only grew when you saw that the address Bela had given you led you to what looked like a mental institution.

"Hi. I didn't expect you to call me back so soon." Bela admitted when she answered your phone.

"Okay, what is this? A bad joke?" You asked angrily. Your hands gripping the steering wheel of the car you had rented and your back leaning back against the seat.

"I know what it looks like, but that's as far as my leads got me."

"What leads? Why the hell were you investigating my family?" You questioned as your eyes traveled back to the mental institution.

"Someone paid me to do it."

"Who?"

"I don't reveal my..."

"Oh, cut the crap." You cut her off. "You brought me here, so talk."

Bela sighed, taking a breath of air before speaking again.

"A woman name Christine Lockhart." She answered. "She lived in Salem when she hired me. She wanted to know what happened to Laurel Holloway, your mother."

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her I didn't investigate normal crimes or disappearances. I explained that my job was to sell supernatural objects and she offered to pay me with something very valuable in addition to informing me of the necklace I stole from your father."

"So you took both items and left the investigation." You assumed.

"Oh, no. I kept my deal." Bela assured you. "But your father, or whoever, covered up very well everything about your mothers death. Would you mind telling me what happened? I know you were 10 years old at the time."

"I'm sorry, it's a family secret."

"Whatever." Bela sighed. "I didn't find anything, except for a donation record. From your father, to that mental institution."

"I don't understand." You frowned in confusion.

"Neither do I. But after Christine died, I stopped investigating."

"Christine died?"

"Uh-huh." Bela nodded. "The same day I went back to Salem to tell her what I knew. Her daughter Maddie found her stabbed to death in her kitchen."

The resemblance of Christine's death to your mother's was obvious. And so your curiosity only grew. Did Christine know your mother? And if she didn't, why did she care enough about the circumstances of her death to hire someone like Bela to investigate it? Why was her father donating money to that mental institution? And on top of all those questions were the doubts that the crossover demon had given you. Was all this related to Carter?

Without a word, you ended the call, grabbed one of your fake badges and exited the interior of the vehicle to head to the building located on the opposite street.

You had a slight suspicion, a suspicion that didn't quite fit with what your father had told you all those years before. You didn't know where your older brother was. After the incident your father had made sure to erase traces of his existence and send him away from home, away from Peter and you. But after the crossroads demon's comments and Bela's information, you couldn't help but make your own conclusions.

"Agent McVie, FBI." You said to the receptionist at the mental institution, flashing your badge. "I'm looking for what I believe is one of your patients. Carter Holloway."

The woman nodded, looking down at the reception computer.

"I'm sorry, we don't have anyone by that name here." She then answered.

"Oh, that's okay." You murmured, frowning in confusion. Then an idea popped into your head. You quickly pull your wallet out of your jacket and showed her a picture. "Uh... do you know either of these two men?" You pointed to her brother and father in that old family photo you had managed to save after the incident.

The woman shifted nervously, as if she recognized one of the men. Or maybe both of them.

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that."

"Why is that?" You frowned.

"It's confidential."

"Confidential, right." You sighed, putting the photo away. "Well, I'd like to speak to the director of this place."

"Sorry, she is not here right now. You can come back with an order."

"Right, I'll do that. Thanks." You assured before leaving the building.

With the doors of the institution closed to you for the time being, you decided to investigate your other lead, Christine Lockhart. And for that you had to find her address. So, with your phone buzzing from your father's continuous calls, you headed for the motel where you'd decided to stay.

"Want to tell me why you weren't answering your phone calls?" Henry asked when you finally answered one of his calls.

"Because I know what you were going to tell me." You sighed, resting your head on your hand with exhaustion. You had been searching for hours and had found nothing on Christine.

"Then listen to me and get out of Salem."

"Why?" You frowned. "What are you hiding from me, Dad?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"If it has to do with Carter, I think I do have to worry." You stated.

"Carter is not a problem." Henry assured.

"No? Then, why do demons care so much about him?"

"You talked to a demon?" He asked. His voice sounding alarmed and concerned. "Pleas, tell me you haven't made a deal."

"I haven't made any deals, but apparently you did once."

"That was a long time ago and I never got to close the deal. It was a stupid idea, and I'm glad I didn't do it."

You sighed, staying in silence for a few moments, looking at the photo in your hand. A family photo of you,  your parents and Carter on your ninth birthday. Your last good and happy birthday until the one you had spent years later with Dean. It was a bit ironic to think that at the current rate you were going with the investigation you would surely spend your next birthday alone.

But Dean wouldn't let that happen, would he? He'll come back for you before that could happen. At least the Dean you had known years before wouldn't let you spend your birthday alone. This Dean... Well, you weren't so sure you knew him.

"Do you know a woman named Christine Lockhart?" Henry sighed at your question, running a hand over his face.

"She was one of your mother's best friends." He answered. "Why?"

"She died the same way Mom did."

"I know." He sighed.

"It had to be the same demon, Dad. I think I'm close."

"Maybe you are." Henry admitted, knowing how important this was to you. "But it wasn't Carter who was possessed that time. It couldn't have been him."

"Because he's in that mental institution, isn't he?" You asked. "The one you donate money to from time to time."

"It's for his own good. He was traumatized..."

"We all were." You cut him off.

"Yeah. But you didn't see him like I did."

"Yeah, I guess I didn't." You sighed.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Reviving the memories of that night wasn't good for you. It wouldn't be good for anyone knowing how traumatizing it had been for the whole family. Except, perhaps, for Peter. He didn't remember anything, he was just a baby. But like you and Carter, the little boy had also lost his mother.

You and your father had sworn never to tell him anything. You had promised. But you wanted to tell him, you wanted to tell him once you had made sure you had killed your mother's killer.

During all the hours of searching, you had failed to find anything about Christine Lockhart. No one by that name lived or had ever lived in Salem. So there were only two options. Either Bela had lied completely, which was more than possible. Or Christine had another name.

So, as you suspected, you came across the case of a stabbing murder five years earlier. A woman named Andrea Summers had died murdered in the kitchen of her home, with several stab wounds found on her body. Her 21-year-old daughter, Hope, had found her and called 911. The case was still open, with no clear suspects or leads.

"Hi." You smiled as a slightly older girl with brown hair opened the house door you had just knocked on. "Agent McVie, FBI"

The girl narrowed her eyes, looking at the badge you flashed at her.

"Hi." She responded, confused.  "Can I help you?"

"That depends. Are you Maddie Lockhart?" You asked.

"I'm sorry, I think you've made a mistake." Taking a nervous step backwards the brunette tried to close the door but you placed a foot in the way to block her.

"I just want to ask you a few questions." You insisted.

"Yeah, I don't think so. Like I said, you made a mistake." She answered, using all her strength to try to close the door.

"No, I didn't. I'm Laurel Holloway's daughter."

"And you expect me to believe you just like that? You could be..."

"I could be... What? A demon?" You cut her off. "You can test me if you want. Salt, holy water, whatever you have on hand will do."

Maddie sighed, slowly opening the door again. "What do you want?"

"Like I said, I just want to ask you a few questions." You took a step back. "Talk about your mother and mine and why they knew each other."

Agreeing to talk to you, Maddie stepped aside letting you into her home and leading you into the main living room. Your eyes roamed the room, noticing the pictures above the fireplace and next to the table lamps beside the sofa.

All the pictures were of Maddie, but she was always accompanied by someone. Always the same person. A woman who you assumed was Christine. She was a beautiful woman, and one who seemed to have raised her daughter all by her own.

"Laurel and my mother met at summer camp here in Salem. They became friends very quickly, along with another girl named Harper." Maddie explains, handing you a cup of tea as you both sat on the couch. "My mother told me that Laurel moved to California to attend college and that's where she met her husband."

"My father, yes. I've heard that story many times. He needed a tutor for his chemistry classes and my mother needed a history tutor. They fell in love instantly, or so they said." You smiled wistfully, remembering how as a child you used to ask your mother to tell you that story over and over again.

"My mother always envied their relationship. She... got pregnant with me by accident. My father... well, he left her when he found out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My mom was the best mom in the world. I was lucky to have her." Maddie admited with a faint smile.

"That other woman, Harper, do you know her?" You asked after taking a sip of tea.

"No. My mom always avoided talking about her. I don't know why, though."

"Mine never talked about any of them." You admitted, looking down at the cup of tea.

"Well, my mother didn't talk much about that camp either." Maddie said. "She talked about Laurel, remembering her as a very good friend. She always regretted that their relationship drifted apart."

"Why did they drift apart?"

"No idea." Maddie shrugged. "I always thought something had happened in that camp. That that's why she never talked about Harper." You nodded thoughtfully, while Maddie tilted her head in confusion. "If you didn't knew any of this, the how come you're here?"

"I heard what happened to your mother five years ago." You explained. "My mother... she died in a very similar way."

"She did?" Maddie frowned.

"Yeah." You murmured. "I guess I wanted to know if you knew anything. They never found my mother's killer and I... I can't get the image of her body out of my head."

"Yeah, neither can I. The police here didn't do much. There wasn't any evidence in the house, and... they just dropped the case. I've done everything I could to put it behind me, you know?" She explained.

"Yeah. No. I understand. I shouldn't have come here to stir all this up. I'm sorry." You nervously answered.

"Oh, no. It's okay, you can come back anytime." Maddie quickly assured you. "I'm glad to put a face to the daughter of the woman my mother talked so much about."

You smiled slightly, not knowing how to respond to her words.

"Uh... One more thing." You said, pulling the family photo out of your jacket pocket. "Do you know him?" Maddie frowned, leaning forward to look at the photo with more clarity. Recognizing in it a younger version of you and Laurel, and fixing on the boy the you were pointing at.

"No, I'm sorry. Should I?" She asked, looking back at you.

"No. Uh... I'm sorry about what happened to your mother." You repeated, setting the teacup down on the table and standing up. "And thank you for your time."

Maddie smiled, standing up and shaking your hand in goodbye before walking you back to the door.

Knowing you had to find more information, you grabbed the false police order you had prepared and headed back to the mental institution where you now knew for sure that your older brother was being held.

The same receptionist attended you upon your arrival, but soon the director of the center appeared before you to take you to the high security room where Carter was being held. Your nerves only grew with every step you took, knowing that after 14 years you would once again see the face of the man who had murdered your mother. And not only that. Carter had also chased you around the house with a baseball bat in his hand. And...

You memories were interrupted when the door to the visiting room opened before you. Handcuffed to a table in the center of it was him. Carter, dressed in a white robe, as white as snow and mimicking the color of the room's padded walls, raised his gaze to meet yours. A gleam of confusion appearing in his eyes as he recognized his little sister. Who wasn't so little anymore.

"Hi, Smarty." Carter smiled at you. It was hard for him to see you so grown up. The last time he had seen you, you were a scared ten year old girl and now you were a much braver woman. And the seriousness on your face showed it. Though hearing that nickname come out of his mouth, you couldn't help but feel like a little kid all over again.

"Don't... Don't call me that." You voice trembled as you spoke for the first time, but you still tried your best to pull yourself together quickly as you walked to sit in the chair placed on the other side of the table, directly across from him.

"I thought you would never come to see me." Carter admitted, watching you closely. "Dad said you hated me."

"Not I... I almost killed you that night, Carter. And you... you... I was traumatized. And Dad never told me where he'd taken you." You explained.

"I'm a taboo subject at home, aren't I?" He smirked, looking down. "At least I've accomplished something in life."

"Don't joke."

"It's the only thing I can do, sis." He shrugged, looking back at you. "Be honest, does little Peter know that I exist? No, I'm sure he doesn't. Dad must have erased all traces of my existence. Drawings, home movies, that Christmas ornament I made for him at school. What a dick." You remained silent, which was confirmation enough for him. "What are you doing here, Smarty? Sorry, you don't want me to call you that."

Taking a breath of air, you were finally able to look him in the eyes.

"Have you talked to any demons lately?" You asked.

"Yes. There's a crossroads here in the west wing hallway. I go there every night." He smiled sarcastically. You rolled her eyes, annoyed by his response. "No, I haven't spoken to any demons since that night. This place is strangely protected from demons."

"It is?"

"Uh-huh. There's symbols written all over it. But they're invisible."

"If they're invisible, how come you...?"

"It's not just me. You could too if you wanted to. All it takes is a little bit of magic and..." He explained, extending his arms until he reached your hands. You tried to pull away from his grip, but Carter was still stronger than you.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You cut him off.

"Magic, sis. It's what started all this." Carter answered, releasing your hands and leaning back against the back of his seat. "It's why the demons were after mom. She made a deal, promised she'd never use her magic again and neither would her children. She broke the deal, and they sent a demon to kill her. It's why I'm here, why you're traumatized, and why Peter grew up without a mother."

"So you're saying Mom was a witch?" You raised your eyebrows in confusion.

"Ding, ding, ding. You're just as smart as i remember."

"Okay, you're crazier than I thought."

"Crazy? Crazy for what?" He asked in disbelief. "Because I can still hear his voice in my head? Because I remember how helpless I felt as that demon used my body to torture you, kill mom and haunt our baby brother? Okay, I'm crazy, but it's not my fault. And what I am saying is the honest truth."

"I don't believe you." You stated firmly, standing up.

"That's okay, I'm not the one who came all the way out here looking for answers." He shrugged. "You should talk to Dad, or that friend of Mom's. Chrissy? Caitlin? Cl...?"

"Christine." You completed, interrupting him. Carter smiled, looking up at you.

"That's the one."

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

You hadn't done much research on the false identities of Christine and her daughter Maddie. Andrea and Hope Summers were false names under which they were registered in the city, with which they had signed over ownership of their house and car and with which they donated money to the psychiatric institution. But it was not only that, Christine was also part of the board of the center and a doctor there, she had been in charge of admitting and treating Carter personally.

So it was no surprise to you to find the house empty. With no car in the garage and the doors unlocked due to Maddie's rush to escape. But you also knew she couldn't have gone far, and because of the roadworks, there was only one way out of town.

Seeing your car in the middle of the road, Maddie slammed the breaks on before she ended up crashing into it. You were leaning against your rented vehicle, arms crossed and a serious look on your face.

"Going somewhere?" You asked.

Letting out the air she was holding, Maddie got out of her car, staring at you in disbelief.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"Well, it's not the first time someone has asked me that." You shrugged. "We're not all very mentally stable in my family, but I guess you already know that."

Maddie scoffed, walking over to you. "Okay, I lied, but you can't blame me for it. The reason my mother died was because she helped your father to hide your brother."

"Why would your mother want to investigate the circumstances of my mother's death if she already knew them?" You asked with confusion.

"When your father brought Carter here he didn't explain much. A demon had possessed him and killed your mother, but he didn't mention anything about a deal." Maddie explained. "My mother hired Bela to see if she could find anything else."

"Bela didn't find out about any of that, how did your mother figure it out?"

"Carter confessed to her the day before she died." She answered. "He said he heard him. That the demon had told him he was after my mother, that it didn't matter if she knew because she was going to die very soon."

Maddie's explanation seemed plausible, and from the look in her eyes you knew you could trust her words this time.

"Do you know why my mother made that deal?" You then asked, dropping your arms on each side of your body.

Maddie nodded slightly.

"It all happened at that summer camp. There was a massacre, a boy went crazy and started killing all the kids and monitors there. Your mother was the only survivor, and she made the deal for my mother to be saved." She explained. "When she broke her part of the deal, the demons killed her. They left my mother alone, but... something changed. And they killed her too. I was there that night, hiding while they interrogated her to tell them where Carter was hiding, and when she didn't answer I heard them stab her to death."

"You said 'they'." You pointed out, confused. Maddie nodded. "Was there more than one demon in your house that night?"

"Two. They disappeared after that. I don't know why."

"Well, they're back, at least the one that killed my mother is. He set me up and tortured me. But he didn't ask me any questions."

"I understand that you want revenge, they destroyed your life. But I want nothing to do with all this." Maddie stated, before walking to her car to pull a backpack out of the back seats. "Here, this is the only interesting thing my mother had about the supernatural world.  It's all yours. I don't want it, I was going to throw it in the ocean."

You frowned, opening the backpack to find a mysterious book along with a knife whose blade had various symbols written on it.

"I'm serious. I want nothing to do with the supernatural world. I'm not a hunter or a witch or anything like that. I've only seen two demons in my entire life."

"You think you can describe them to me?" You asked, looking back at her. "I studied art, maybe I can draw a portrait and identify them."

"I've got something better. I studied photography." Maddie said. "It was dark that night, but I was able to take three pictures. They're all yours. They're inside the book inside an envelope. I hope you can find them, send them back to hell or kill them, I really do."

"I'll do it for my mother, and for yours." You assured, closing the backpack.

"I appreciate it, I really do. But like I said, I want nothing to do with any of this."

You nodded, giving her a slightly smile.

"That's ok. Thank you."

Maddie nodded, getting back inside her car to leave the city that had been her home for her entire life, not knowing exactly where she would be headed. You watched her disappear down the road, your head filled with more doubts and questions. Each thing she found out about her mother or the demons complicated everything even more.

When you went back to the motel, the first thing you did was check out that mysterious book. On its brown leather cover was a strange mark formed by several geometric figures. The pages inside were ancient and rustled when opened. Dust covered them and hid the words and figures written in black ink. Blowing the dust from them, you couldn't help but cough. You eyes narrowing as you saw what was written inside the book. Words and drawings that even you weren't able to understand. That certainly looked like a witch's grimoire. And the most intriguing thing of all was the name written in small print on the back cover of it. Ophelia.

You stayed up all night, studying and searching for the meaning of every word and drawing written on it, until sleep overcame you.

That same night, in the safe room where he had lived for the past fourteen years, Carter had one of his recurring nightmares once again, although this one was different. After five years of peace, the voice of that demon was once again echoing in his head. Threatening him about the near death of his little brother.

Meanwhile in Albany, New York, Dean Winchester was awakened by the ringing of his phone. With his eyes still closed and half asleep, the hunter grabbed the phone and held it to his ear without looking to see who was calling.

"What's up?" His voice sounded sleepy as he spoke.

"Wake up, you idiot. My sister is going to spend her birthday alone." Peter Holloway's voice on the other end of the phone made Dean wake up quickly, confused by the fact that he was the one calling him.

"She won't. Her birthday is tomorrow and it's four in the morning, what are you doing calling me you should be sleeping, you little runt?"

"It's one in the morning here." Peter pointed out. "You better go to her before midnight."

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" Dean grunted, sitting up in his bed. "I'll be there."

"Before midnight."

"Yeah, yeah. Before midnight." He assured the kid. "Anything else?"

"Well..."

"What is it?"

"Would you buy her something from me?" Peter asked. "I've only spent one birthday away from her, but I was still able to send her something. Now you guys are traveling and I don't know where to...."

Dean sighed.

"What do you want me to buy her?"

Peter smirked before answering him, giving him all the necessary indications to make sure his sister had a memorable birthday.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

When Sam and Dean arrived in Salem it was still October 30, but you weren't in your motel room even though it was two hours before midnight. You were at the mental institution, having managed to sneak in to visit your brother, posing as a nurse and taking advantage of the fact that the receptionist who had received you the day before was off duty.

"You look very convincing, sis." Carter smirked at the sight of you dressed as a nurse.

"Shut up." You grunted, closing the door behind you and setting the food tray on the only table in the room. "Why the hell do you eat dinner at 10:00 at night?"

"I don't. If you don't eat on time they bring it back until you do. And I have to eat to take these precious blue pills." Carter explained, approaching you to show you the small plastic cup filled with pills. "What are you doing here? If I'm not mistaken your birthday is tomorrow, or did you like it here and want to keep me company? Sneaking into my room like when you were little and thought you saw monsters in your room."

"Those monsters don't scare me anymore." You assured him.

"That's clear, or else you wouldn't be talking to me." He smiled, walking back to his bed.

You narrowed your eyes, watching him closely. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I think I've been like this for 14 years."

"I'm serious. You looked a lot better yesterday. Today you're pale and the circles under your eyes... Did something happen?"

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "I had my session in the electric chair today morning."

You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Just the usual nightmares." He then explained.

"Just that? You sure?" You insisted.

"I would never lie to you, Smarty." He assured giving you a little smile. "Have you talked to Maddie?"

"You know her?" You frowned.

"I've seen her in dreams." Carter explained like it was the most normal thing. "And that book too. Tell me, what does it say?"

"I didn't come here to talk about that."

"No, you came because you don't want to spend your birthday alone. I can still see through you, sis. You're like an open book."

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes once again. "I wanted to say goodbye. I don't know if I'll ever see you again."

Carter smiled sadly.

"Oh, I have a feeling you will." He answered, looking down at his hands.

"Is that a threat?" You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows with disbelief.

"No, it's a warning." He said, looking back at you. "Be careful, Smarty. He's still out there and he's not alone."

"I don't get it. Mom broke the deal and he killed her, okay. Then he went after Christine because the deal was made to save her life and he wanted to restore what should have happened in that camp. But why does he keep coming after us?" You asked pacing around the room.

"Because we are special?" Carter answered as if it was obvious.

"Special how?" You asked, confused.

"Ask dad."

"Everyone keeps saying that." You complained with a grunt. "You've said it twice already."

"Mom was the only one who knew and she told him." Carter explained.

"But you know."

"No. I know what that demon told me. He also told me he wanted that book back so I hope you know where to hide it."

"This is the safest place against demons, so..."

"You hid it here?" You shrugged. "I like the way you think, Smarty."

"Don't smile so much, you won't find it." You assured him.

"We'll see about that."

"You're locked in the high security wing." You pointed out.

"And you snuck in." He shot back.

"Tuchè." You sighed.

"Look at that, we're back to being a team." Carter smiled.

"We never were."

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." He shrugged. "We should never have been born. Deals with demons go way back in our family."

"What does that even mean...?" A noise in the hallway interrupted your question.

"I think you need to leave."

"Yes, I suppose I do." You sighed "Be safe, okay?"

"Aw, I'm glad you still care about me." Carter smiled making you roll your eyes. "You take care of Peter, okay?

"I always do. Why do you...?" There was that noise again. "I've got to go." You said a quick goodbye, leaving the room to retrace your steps before you were caught inside your brother's room.

Even after leaving the institution, you still wondered why Carter would be concerned about Peter's safety. He barely knew his little brother. That caused a knot of fear to appear in your chest, forcing you to dial his number as you drove back to the motel.

"It's not your birthday yet, you've ruined my special midnight call." The young boy complained when he answered the phone. You sighed with relief as you heard his voice.

"I'm sorry, buddy. It's just... I was worried." You explained. "Is everything okay at home?"

"Well, it's a lot quieter without your music playing 24/7." Peter admitted. You smiled slightly at his response.

"Use the radio I bought you."

"It doesn't sound the same as your vinyl records."

"You know they are..."

"Banned territory, yeah, yeah. Relax." He cut you off. "Hey, It's midnight!" Peter exclaimed as you pulled into the motel parking lot. Your eyes quickly meeting Dean's Impala. "Happy birthday, sis."

"Thanks, buddy." You smiled.

"I love you."

"I love you." You answered him. "And happy Halloween, by the way. Save me some candy, will you?"

"You know I won't."

"Well, at least remember to take a photo with this year's Halloween costume." You asked.

"I will." Peter assured you as his eyes traveled to the kitchen door. "Dad's here, do you want to talk to him?"

"No. I'll call him later." You replied as you saw Dean leaning against you room door. "I love you, buddy. Bye."

"Bye." Was all you could hear before he hung up the phone as you left the interior of the rented car. "What are you doing here?" You eyes watched Dean with confusion.

"It's your birthday." He pointed out with obviousness. "You didn't think I was going to let you spend it alone, did you? Sam's off to buy a cake. But in the meantime... do you feel like going for a drive?" He pointed to his car. You frowned, even more confused than before, but quickly nodded, following him into the Impala. This time settling into the seat that Sam usually occupied.

The drive wasn't very long until Dean slowed down in a large open field. You frowned even more confused. The ride had been quiet, though not uncomfortable. Each of you had your heads in different thoughts. Thoughts that neither had the strength to share with the other yet.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Dean chuckled at your question.

"No." He assured, opening the door to get out of the vehicle. You followed him close behind, interested. "Do you remember the birthday we spent together? We went stargazing near Lake Michigan in Chicago."

"Of course I remember. It's my second favorite birthday." You smiled making Dean frown. "Don't make that face. Peter has really good ideas. He's got you beat by a few points."

"Well, if I had to lose to someone..." Dean sighed which caused you to smile. "I haven't had much time to think of a better plan this year, and I wanted to relive that day." He explained, pointing to the sky. The smile on your lips only grew as you saw the stars in the sky, accompanied by the full moon that made the Halloween atmosphere even more magical.

"I love it." You assured, looking back at him. Dean quickly smiled back, feeling how his heartbeat started racing.

"Peter also asked me to buy this for you. It's his birthday present." Dean cleared his throat, pulling a small package out of the back seats of the car. You smiled, grabbing it with excitement.

It was a cassette of your favorite Fleetwood album signed by Stevie Nicks herself.

"He did an exhaustive search and luckily found a seller in New York. It honestly scares me what he can do." You laughed at Dean's confession, your eyes looking up at him tenderly. "I don't think my gift is on his level at all, but... I hope you like it." Dean commented, handing you a small package. You smiled, clutching it in your hands and slowly tearing it open as you both settled on the hood of the car so you could look up at the stars.

"A brand new journal." You observed, your eyes sparkling with joy at the sight of the brown leather-covered notebook decorated with various patches from different music bands. Mostly you favorites, though there were some of Dean's favorites as well.

"I noticed you were finishing the most recent one, so I thought...."

"I love it." You assured him, cutting him off and giving him a loving smile. Dean quickly returned the gesture, happy to have gotten it right. "Thank you."

For the next hour, you two lay on the hood of the Impala, admiring the stars in comfortable silence until Sam called to inform you that he had dinner and needed the room key to get in, forcing you to go back to the motel to meet him.

It may not have been your best birthday due to recent events and discoveries, but you were happy not to spend it alone. That thought scared you to death, since it had never happened before. But this birthday had been special nonetheless. You felt you had found a closure by seeing you older brother again, and as you shared dinner with the Winchester brothers, you felt like you had found a new family.

Keep Reading: Chapter 6

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[axel-skz]

Going ahead doesn't mean you're going to get there first

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write just for fun. Which means don’t stress about it and writing at my own pace. BUT IT IS SO HARD! I feel so bad that people are waiting. Then I give myself the reality check that no ones on the edge of their seat waiting. Then it’s depressing. Then I forget and repeat that cycle. Short term memory loss coming in clutch. I like how these are usually just bits of my life story lmao. ||| I’m away from my ipad atm so I’m gonna give an honorary mention to the 5 star album instead of shuffling a song today. STREAM!!!!

You have been away on a business trip and miss jisung so much. (No, it’s not smut)

(Ok but could he be any cuter?!)

You had a business trip. A freaking 2 month business trip. Your life had been a nightmare. Especially being away from your beloved, Hanji. You were in constant meetings and it was absolutely exhausting. It was the worst timing too because han had just got time off.

You hadn’t told him but you planned to surprise him. He had a week left of being free and you planned to spend the whole time with him. It would be so nice to finally relax and spend the whole time wrapped in blankets and the arms of your favourite human. Comfort personified.

He had this unique ability to make you feel stress free. Which was hard for you because you were always thinking about work or tasks you had. Not with him though, he was smart and it was impossible not to get lost in his eyes.

Oh, and don’t even start with his cheeks. You poked his face once for fun and next thing you knew, you had been there for half an hour, pinching his cheeks.

These thoughts weren’t helping you with the feelings of homesickness but that would all go away soon.

Your jet lag was kicking your ass as you made your way into your apartment complex. You were still so excited to see him though. The excitement gave you the capability to ignore the fact that your nose was blocked but could still smell airplane food the whole time.

You opened your door and looked around to see if he was there. After putting your bags in your room, you looked around to find that he was in fact, not home. You set up everything for a nice surprise but got surprised when he called you.

‘Hey sweet cheeks,’ you said enthusiastically.

‘I feel like my final words might just be me telling you not to call me that,’ he sighed.

‘I can never let go. You know this. It’s too cute a name,’ you said defiantly.

‘We can argue about this when you get back to your apartment and open the door to let me in. I’m tired and I’m cold.’

Your heart stopped, ‘my what who?!’

‘Your apartment? I got the address from your work buddies. I wanted to surprise you but you aren’t home and I waited like half an hour. Now I’m getting stares from people. Some guy gave me money thinking I’m a hobo. I’m never wearing these jeans again.’

You were frozen for so long he started to question if you were still there. You broke out of your semi conscious state and said, ‘ji… I’m not there… I came home to surprise you for the week…’

He froze then laughed, ‘good one! Now come open your door.’

You turned the call to a video call and he could see you in the apartment.

He scowled, ‘I’m exhausted and sleep deprived for no reason?!’

‘I love that we both had the exact same idea…’

‘Yeah, great, we’re both stupid,’ he laughed.

‘Well, a couple that does… stupid crap together, stays together,’ you chuckled.

‘You stay there, I’ll get a flight back. This will take a while so don’t move,’ he winked.

‘I’m not staying in this one spot for the next 5 hours ji,’ you said while squinting.

‘Get yourself a partner who will stay fully still for you for 5 hours cus you said so…’ he dramatically clutched his heart.

‘Do you wanna be single in the next five minutes? Because I can make that happen,’ you deadpanned.

His eyes widened, ‘I love you the most in the world! You are not allowed to leave me! You could never subject me to dying alone!’

‘And you call me dramatic,’ you laughed.

It took him an extra day to come home because flights had been delayed. When he finally got home, he was exhausted. It was good he had experience in flying a lot since he had to as an idol.

You hid when he finally got home because… why not torture someone who is so clearly exhausted and near the point of death.

He came in with the last bit of his energy coming from his excitement to see you. He yelled your name as he looked around and couldn’t find you. He stood still and you were so confused.

Then he sat on the sofa and broke down… he was crying… he sniffled as he got his phone and called you. Your phone rang in the apartment and he jumped.

You then popped out of your hiding spot and scared him a second time.

He jumped again then looked stunned to see you. He stared through teary eyes, ‘if you don’t hug me now for atleast 5 days, I will die.’

You felt so bad and ran over to give him a hug. He fell back onto the sofa and you guys cuddled for the rest of your time home. Just as you wanted. You made it up to him with all the different kinds of chocolates and sweets you brought back.

‘Y/N, you’re pure evil. You and minho hyung would get along great.’

‘One more thing we have in common.’

He looked puzzled, ‘what’s the other thing?’

‘Our love for you.’ This made him give you a big smile.

And for the greater good of everyone, jisung did not die :))

REMEMBER TO LIKE AND REPOST 😈 SEND ANY REQUESTS YOU MAY HAVE

Feel rich and boujee (idk if thats how you spell that and quite frankly, im too lazy to google it) with me.

[threehuskiesinatrenchcoat]

Hey I just thought of something 🤭

Ok so what if Graves and Alejandro had met before but like younger like 15 years old Alejandro Mets Graves (also 15 years old) when Graves’s family is on vacation in Las Almas and Phillip is like Alejandro’s bisexual awakening and he tries to talk to him, but his English is kind of bad so he can’t really talk properly but Phillip can understand him perfectly but his vacation is up but they always send letters to each other until they both join the military and lose contact with each other until the game they meet again and Alejandro is talking to Rudy about how he looks familiar (same thing, vice versa but with Graves’s shadows 🤭)

im sniffing around in very old asks that i forgot about during my months long disappearance (i died and came back wrong) and found this and even tho it's REALLY late i still wanted to post this i like the way you think.

i can just imagine how awkward they are (like teenagers generally are) (especially queer teenagers) trying to navigate whatever it is. ohhh he's so cool i hope we get to hang out more and watch the sunset and maybe hold hands a little huh why? no reason. alejandro leaning hard into learning english, definitely not to be able to talk to the pretty boy he met and doesn't have a crush on. religiously keeping up with the letters, sending each other gifts and fun trinkets. graves going through a tough time in his twenties and them joining military, and alejandro is so bummed out that they stopped talking and graves doesn't write back. writing his newly created email in the last letter, just in case, and, well, moving it to digital would be faster and convenient, right? nothing ever comes of it, though (graves didn't even get it - he doesn't live at that address anymore).

so there's this very familiar looking guy and he's not sure if it really actually could be _the_ guy, but he's not sure he should ask what if it's like creepy and how's he gonna go about it like "hey by any chance didn't you have a pen pal in late 90s" and rudy is so done with it like dude it's not weird just ASK, but what if he specifically didn't want to talk to him anymore that would be so _Awkward_ and-

and graves definitely knows it's his alejandro, he just feels too guilty for what he's about to do to bring it up and give him hope. couldn't resist putting my trans hcs into this but i put it under the cut

alejandro not recognizing him because he deadass just doesn't know how he looks like. vaguely familiar yeah but it's not like he can roll up and ASK about stuff like that. of course he knew abt him being trans, he told him himself in a very personal and emotional letter a couple years after they met (and several more after that, because ale had questions and no one else to ask). also i think the top tier wholesome comedy is him taking the info like "i guess im bi then lol" totally chill like nah nah ur good i gotta figure out stuff about MYSELF now he's not even sure he knows the name he settled on in the end. which is also why he didn't even know where to start searching if he decided to (maybe he just didn't want to have a relationship anymore and he shouldn't bother him?)

[gigantomachy1916]

for the fic writer asks: 9, 17, and 19 :-)

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

Mmm not every single day but I have written 37 out of the past 38 days, between 200 and 11,000 words each day! Got a streak going (almost... shouldn't have skipped that day). Sentence from today:

Grasping a handful of Floo powder, he stepped through to the Zabini home, where he was immediately greeted with the pungent stench of marijuana.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

They don't have diners in the UK! Also the exhibits of the Atlanta aquarium, and the mechanics of hopping trains, and the fact that gamma ray bursts are the most energetic processes in the universe, though I didn't end up using that last fact.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

Ummmmm I'm gonna give you a long teaser cause I can't fuckin help myself, I've been working on this fic for SO LONG and wishing I could share it. Here's part of a scene from what's currently Chapter 5 of Fuel to Fire under the cut.

............

Sirius grabbed onto the front of Remus’s robes with an intensity that frightened her, eyes blazing. “You found the traitor?” he demanded. “Did you kill him?”

“I wouldn’t let them,” Mary said. “We need him to prove that you’re innocent.”

Turning to look at her, Sirius asked, “Them?”

Oops.

“Severus helped me,” Remus admitted.

“Severus Snape?” Sirius demanded. “What the fuck, Remus!” He still hadn’t let go of his robes, and Mary was getting a little nervous.

Deciding that, since scolding Snape had worked surprisingly well, she’d try it on Sirius too, Mary folded her arms and told him sternly, “Snape is my friend. Well, I’m a bit mad at him right now, because he didn’t tell me you were innocent at first. But he’s going to help us clear your name, so you can’t fight with him. Okay?” He seemed a little mentally addled, maybe because of being a dog for so long, so she was trying to keep things simple.

Sirius stared at her for a moment before turning back to Remus incredulously. “Snivellus is the Fawn’s friend?” he repeated. “Remus, what? How the fuck did this happen? What is she talking about?” Then something seemed to dawn on him, because he turned back to stare at Mary, betrayal in his eyes. “Is he here? I thought I smelled someone else, but I forgot, in all the…” He broke off, clearly unsure how to sum up ‘Mary and Remus petting him and calling him a good boy and convincing him to turn back to human.’

At that point, of course, Snape decided to make things even more difficult and step out from behind a tree, a rather obnoxious smirk on his face. Because he couldn’t just be nice, no, he had to revert to acting like a damn teenager at the worst possible moment. “Black,” he drawled.

Sirius was on his feet in an instant, advancing on Snape, and Mary quickly rushed to put herself between them, wondering where the fuck Sirius had gotten a wand from. And now Snape had his out, too. She stood with her back to Snape, her hands extended in Sirius’s direction, trying to stop him. “I told you, Snape is my friend!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “And I’m… I’m going to be very cross with you if you hurt him after he helped me find you!”

Looking a little uncertain, Sirius at least hesitated, and Mary, wanting to press her advantage, said the first thing that popped into her head: “Don’t be a bad dog!”

And for a moment, Sirius actually looked abashed, giving her what could only be termed ‘puppy dog eyes.’ Behind him, Remus burst out laughing, and even Snape snorted over her shoulder. “Yes, Black,” he taunted. “Don’t be a ‘bad dog.’”

Mary rounded on him at that. “Theíos!” she hissed, hands on her hips, not even realizing she’d reverted back to their old form of address. “You promised to be nice!”

“I haven’t hexed him yet,” Snape pointed out, sounding rather like he was sulking. He sniffed slightly and leaned backwards, away from Mary. “You reek of dog.”

(Behind her, she heard Sirius demanding, “Did she just call Snivellus her uncle? Remy, what is going on?” His voice was genuinely distraught, like the very foundations of the universe were unraveling beneath him.)

“That’s enough, children!” Remus snapped in the exact tone of voice he used when her class was acting up. “Sirius, Severus is Mary’s Head of House. He looks after her, and he helped me recapture Pettigrew.Yes, it’s strange, I thought so too at first, but he’s nice enough to her.” He stressed the final two words, making it clear the statement did not apply to anyone else. “Severus, if you cannot stop actively antagonizing Sirius, kindly go back to the Castle and leave us to talk. We have a lot to discuss, and we are not going to get anywhere with the two of you at each other’s throats.”

Both men turned to glare at him—Sirius out of betrayal that Remus would defend Snape, and Snape out of indignation that Remus would dare tell him off. Mary gave Remus a grateful smile, glad that she wasn’t the only one with any sense in this situation.

“I will not go back to the Castle without Miss Potter,” Snape argued. “Black may not have killed Pettigrew or those muggles, but he is clearly volatile. I will not leave her alone with him.” Completely ignoring the fact that Remus would be there too, of course.

“I am not volatile, I just hate you,” Sirius retorted, and Mary rolled her eyes.

“If it’ll stop you guys from killing each other, fine. I’ll go back to the castle with Professor Snape, and you,” she addressed Remus, “can find me once you’ve filled Sirius in on everything.”

Remus seemed fine with that plan, but Sirius was not. “Hang on!” he protested, grabbing Remus’s sleeve. “You’re not just going to let him take the Fawn somewhere alone, are you?”

“Merlin and Morgan!” she swore, fed up with his attitude and with being talked about like she wasn’t even there. “My name is Mary, and I don’t need Remus’s permission to follow my Head of House back to the Castle. Besides, if Snape wanted to kill me, he’s already had plenty of opportunities. I’m alone with him in his private lab basically all the time.” Sirius only looked more outraged at that, so she simply turned on her heel, giving Snape an unimpressed glare. “If you’re quite finished being rude to my godfather, you may escort me back.”

Snape huffed at her audacity, and possibly at the fact that she was clearly imitating him in her haughtiness, but he did so, placing a rather possessive hand on her shoulder and pushing her quickly along, which only sparked another outraged noise from Sirius behind her back. Anyway, he retracted his hand soon enough, wiping it on his robes and complaining, “You are absolutely covered in slobber. Honestly.”

“Yeah, I guess Sirius really likes to lick,” she agreed, and he gave her a look of such utter disgust that she had to laugh.

“That is perhaps the single most repulsive thing you could have said.”

[brooke-burnes]

Brooke's Journal Part 1

Origins: "The Worst Birthday I've ever had"

I think the only way I'm gonna be able to cope with this is if I detach myself from it. If I treat it like it's something that happened to someone else, a crime scene I only ever saw pictures of, at an address I don't recognize, it feels less... personal.

Even if I know for a fact that it was.

Well, no matter how little I wanna talk about it, I'm probably gonna regret not writing this down.

I was going home late after work. A few of my co-workers made me a cake to celebrate my eighteenth birthday. It was good. They talked me into staying late with them to decorate the office for the winter holidays. Something about how my desk was always decorated the best. I doubt any of us were expecting that me staying late would save my life.

As the bus pulled up to the stop, I noticed the red and blue lights around the corner. It wasn't until I actually rounded the corner that I realized they were in front of my house.

I remember being confused and concerned. This is the point where everything becomes a bit of a blur.

They almost didn't let me in. It took a few minutes of convincing. I think Red Hood was there. He really didn't want to let me in.

Walking in was really jarring.

Everyone was in the living room. It looked like they were decorating the tree.

This would have been my second year celebrating Christmas with them. The only family that would want me around for more than a year. The only family I wanted to be around for more than a year.

It followed the Joker's typical M.O. in a few key ways: the "haha"s written on the walls, green purple and red spray paint, and the sides of everyone's mouths cut like that one Yo-Kai. That said, I'm honestly not convinced it was the Joker. He's not exactly the type to make home visits without being damn sure Batman would show up.

That aside, the entire house was completely ransacked. Furniture was destroyed, a few doors were torn off the hinges, plates and glasses were shattered on the floor.

By the time I went upstairs to my room to see what had survived, Batman had showed up. He and Red Hood insisted on sticking with me. I'm honestly grateful for it.

Upon opening the door to my shared room, a click sounded and before I could react, a bomb went off. I'm damn lucky batman was there. He used his cape to shield me from the blast. I remember wondering what the hell it was made of to be able to block a fucking bomb at point blank and have all three of us get out of it without a scratch.

The worst part was after the smoke cleared.

On my wall, in bright red paint, were the words "where did you go?" along with my deadname.

Everything of mine was torn to shreds. All I could salvage was a silver bracelet with red roses that was under my bed. I don't even remember where I got it.

That's not even the end of the story.

After all that, Batman told the commissioner to "call their mutual friend" and "let him know the bat's calling in a favor". Then he turned to Red Hood and told him to keep an eye on me until "he" got there. He drove off while I got taken to the police station, and I was wracking my brain trying to think of what I was gonna do, who was I going to stay with, my phone had died on the bus ride home and I didn't have any family I could reach out to anyway.

As I was spiraling I heard a car pull up outside, and moments later, Bruce Wayne sat down across from me.

He offered to let me stay with him until I could get on my feet, and without anywhere else to go, I accepted.

I write this entry from my bedroom in the manor. I have nothing to my name but the clothes I wore to work that day, the few things I had in my backpack, a bracelet I found under my bed, and my smartphone (but no charger).

At this point, I'm not sure what I can do. Tomorrow I'm going to get a charger, call my boss, and figure out where the hell I go from here.

-Brooke Alexandra Burnes

[ozimagines]

Hello, this was very much inspired by your Holly and Fiona drabble: would you consider doing a "dating would include" between Fiona and Beecher? I think that Fiona would make for a fun step-mom for Holly! Maybe Beecher and Fiona end up as cell mates after Chris dies or its an AU where Chris is less murderous and more accepting of Beecher's choices? Thank you and I hope that you are feeling better!

And the Fiona love continues absofuckinglutely I’ll write this piece!!!Honestly the chances are better that Beecher would marry Fiona in real life than it is for Keller to be less murderous 😂 So he’s dead in this. But yeah this ask made me so happy. Plus I wrote Fiona St. James (the actor that plays Fiona) on TikTok and told him your idea and he said it sounded awesome! So it’s actually had the rare honor of being actor approved! Thank you so very much for this ask!❤️❤️

Tobias Beecher dating Fiona Zonioni would include… part 1/?

He made parole. Felt like a damn dream again. Only Keller wasn’t there to wake him up. He was found innocent of killing Keller, but he didn’t feel innocent. He knew their love was till death do us part, but it never felt so real until it was.

He was signing for his belongings. A watch. A picture of his family, now half gone, his wallet.

“Didn’t feel real until now, huh?”

Beecher’s eyes flitted to Fiona. She was also signing for her belongings. Lipstick and a compact. A string of pearls and a hand fan. It had her initials on it Fiona J. Zonioni.

“Yeah. Just been wanting it for so many years and now it feels different.

“Because he’s not here?”

Beecher agreed, looking away to stop from shedding a tear.

“Your journey to who you are is an inspirational one, Beecher. Prag to stag. Geek to chic. It’s a classic.” She signed and started loading her belongings into a frilly pink purse. “I’ve enjoyed watching you succeed.”

“Thanks, Fiona.” He grabbed his items and put them in his suit pockets.

They walked each other to the door.

“What’re your plans?”

Fiona sighed and shrugged.

“Try to get back in the drag game. If I’m not too old, anyway. Father’s gone now and mother won’t speak to me. Hurts.”

“Sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”

“Don’t be, I stabbed the bastard.”

Beecher furrowed a brow and Fiona explained. Her dad always beat on her mom. Never laid a hand on her or her sister, but made her mom pay for it.

“One night, it was worse than usual. I told him to stop and he didn’t. So I did what I had to for her. And now…” she looked away. “I’m not sorry. I’m sorry it had to be that way but I’m not sorry I did it.”

“Can’t relate. I’ll hate myself for Cathy Rockwell forever.”

“And Schillinger?”

“I didn’t mean-“

“And Metzger?” She asked slyly.

“Didn’t know you knew about that.”

“The gays were a gang for a reason, Beecher, only we didn’t deal in drugs, we dealt in secrets. We kept yours for years.”

Beecher thanked her, though he wasn’t sure why. She smiled and patted his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be alright, Beecher.”

They stood at the gates together and Fiona chucked.

“Adam and Eve. The first man and woman in Eden.” She said, and left it at that. Their respective rides were waiting for them.

Beecher went to shake Fiona’s hand but she tutted and brought him into a tight hug.

“Remember who you are, Beecher. Always.”

“You, um… you can call me Tobias.”

“Are you a Theo or a Toby?”

“I’m a Toby.”

“How sweet. I’m a Fifi when I’m in a good mood.” She started to leave when Beecher stopped her and scribbled something on one of his sign out papers.

“It’s my number and address. Come over sometime, I’ll have you for dinner.”

“I’d like that Bee- I mean, Toby.” Fiona blushed which is something people rarely saw her do and said her goodbyes, rushing to the car with another girl looking just like her. Beecher assumed it was her sister.

Beecher got home that day; no one told Holly he was paroled. His mom just held a dinner for her and he walked in. Everyone cried. It was an emotional day.

That night, as he settled into his own bed, alone, his phone buzzed.

Night, Toby 🫶👑

He smiled.

Goodnight, Fiona. :)

He had her over for dinner a couple weekends later. He told Holly a friend was coming over. A friend she didn’t know.

“This person is someone I knew… in Oz.”

Holly couldn’t care less, her dad was home, that’s what she wanted.

“Is it going to be that guy you dated?”

“How do you know-“

“Gramma and Grandpa were talking. Said he might be the reason I was kidnapped. I know he wasn’t. You wouldn’t let that happen.”

Beecher was in constant awe of his daughter’s perception.

“No, it’s… she’s…”

“She?”

Beecher sat Holly down to explain some things to her. He said some princes want princesses, but some want other princes.

“I know what gay means, Dad.”

“Oh well… some princes like to dress like princesses. But they still like to be called prince. Some like to dress like a princess and like to be called-“

“She’s trans. You could just say that.”

Wow. Gen Z was really something else.

Holly helped him make dinner. She insisted on making pasta. Beecher asked several times why.

“Women like pasta. It’s romantic.” She shrugged and Beecher laughed and said okay.

There was a knock on the door. Beecher nervously went to answer. Fiona was the only person out of Oz that he invited over. He hoped it wasn’t a mistake. He opened the door to see Fiona.

She was wearing a sparkly red gown, hair done up curly, eyes a smoky purple color. Beecher was blown away by how good she looked when left to her own devices.

“I overdressed, didn’t I?”

Beecher smiled large and shook his head.

“You look FANTASTIC Fiona.” He helped her in and took her black coat.

“Aren’t you the gentleman?” She teased, but accepted the gesture proudly. She flashed something in a Tupperware container.

“I made cannoli. I hope you like it because I spent like fifteen hours on them and trashed my kitchen.”

Beecher smile and assured her that they would love them. Holly peeked out from the kitchen. Her eyes went wide and Beecher was afraid she was going to say something insensitive.

“Whoa! You look just like Jessica Rabbit!” She cheered excitedly and Fiona popped out her fan and dramatically hid her face.

“Child, you spoil me. She’s just who I was going for!” She grandly extended one of her gloved hands to the kid. Holly took it and kissed the top like she’d seen people in old movies do. Fiona was delighted and make a squeaking sound.

She pretended to be receiving her fans and extended her hand a few more times until she came to Beecher, who took the hand and mimicked Holly, kissing the top but letting his lips linger for a second.

“Chanel #5?”

Fiona put a hand over her mouth.

“And you know your perfumes?” She leaned down to Holly, as if explaining a secret. “He’s not going to be single for long. You have to be his bouncer. Make sure they’re good enough for him.”

Holly fake saluted and both Fiona and Toby laughed. He guided her to the dining room, which was made up quaintly.

Toby pulled out a chair for her and she sat down gracefully, which Beecher wasn’t sure was possible being how she was poured into that dress.

Holly pulled out her dad’s chair, and he sat down with a smile.

She left to go get their food.

“The royal treatment. I’m impressed, Beecher, most kids I meet are selfish assholes. Miss Holly’s already more of a gentleman than some of my lovers.”

Beecher accepted the compliment in the spirit in which it was given. Holly served their pasta, and Fiona clapped excitedly.

“Oh, good. I love pasta!”

Holly gave her dad and ‘I told you so’ look and sat down.

They chatted, sharing things about each other they never knew out of Oz.

“Dad can do a Rubik’s cube in like a minute!”

“Really? That’s quite impressive. Can he do this?” She turned her head and touched her nose with her tongue and turned around. Holly laughed and Beecher just stared. He realized in seven years, he never really knew how funny and charming Fiona could be.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said suddenly, and realized, how it sounded. “If you want to, I mean.”

Fiona thought for a second.

“I ever tell you I’m Chucky Pancamo’s cousin?”

Beecher choked on his drink and Fiona smiled.

“Well, I am. Distantly. We went to family reunions together. Never talked much but we knew each other. Took care of me in prison though.”

“Never realized you all talked.”

“We didn’t. But there was one guy before you got there, Derek Vaughn. Mean, nasty man. Always gave me trouble.” She shrugged with a smirk. “Until he didn’t.”

“Wow.” Was all Beecher could think to say. He told her he was starting to realize he didn’t know Oz at all.

“Oz was different for me than for you, Beecher. It’s… always different for people like me.”

She turned away to avoid from being seen as weak, biting her knuckles for a second. Holly kicked Beecher under the table and gestured toward her. Beecher put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“We’re out, Fiona. And we’re gonna stay out.”

“Not for nothing, Beecher, but our definitions of the outside world are also different.”

“I can admit that. But, Fiona, you’re you. Just always yourself. I envied you for years for that. You’re yourself even when it’s hard. It’s an admirable trait.”

Fiona smiled.

“Takes practice.” She tasted the pasta and remarked on how good it was. Beecher gave Holly all the credit. She beamed proudly as she explained it was a recipe she learned on TikTok.

They had Fiona’s cannoli with dessert. Holly had never tried one before and was blown away by how good they were.

It came to her bedtime, and Beecher hugged Holly tight.

“Goodnight, Holly Jolly.” He kissed her head and tousled her hair. Holly looked to Fiona.

“Goodnight, Miss Zamboni.”

Fiona snorted at the butchering of her last name but she thanked the girl all the same.

“Goodnight, Miss Holly.”

Beecher turned to Fiona and asked if she wanted a nightcap, and at her scandalous expression, clarified he meant a cookie and some milk.

“Why do we have figures if not to build on. Yes, Toby, I’ll take a cookie.”❤️

Toby asked what kind she’d like and she said “surprise me, darling.”

He decided on the cookie; his most complex one. Dark chocolate and sea salt with dried strawberries. He even warmed the milk up for her.

“Realize I should have asked what kind of milk you want. Holly drinks hazelnut and coconut milk. When I was a kid and someone said milk, they just meant milk.”

Fiona giggled at his boomerism, and took the tiny plate, staring gratefully at the pristine cookie. She took a piece off with her fingers and dipped it in the milk.

“Mmm dark chocolate strawberry? And sea salt? Is that what you think of me?”

Beecher told her he didn’t understand and she explained with a glee in her voice that Audrey Hepburn said you can always tell what a man thinks of you by the kind of gifts he buys you.

“Or in this case, cookie flavor. I want to know if you chose randomly.”

“No. It’s my most complex flavor. It’s salty and sweet and bitter and fruity. It’s so many things in one.” He said, trying to justify his choice, unknowingly flattering Fiona more than she had ever been.

“What’s yours?”

“Guess.”

“Chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin.”

“Why oatmeal raisin?”

“It’s not for everyone but it’s yours and you own it. Plus it’s unreasonably sweet.”

He smiled and defeatedly showed her his oatmeal raisin cookie. 🍪 Fiona did a little victory dance that got them thinking of Busmalis.

In fact they thought about a lot of their prisoner friends and foes alike, all discussing where they ended up and what they deserved.

“Robson has aids.” Fiona informed and Beecher lamented that he didn’t feel sorrier.

They got closer and closer on the couch, laughing at some of their old prison stories. After a particularly good laugh about Jewel Schillinger becoming devoutly Jewish, Beecher found he hand his hand steadying himself on Fiona’s thigh.

He apologized one he realized.

“You’re fine, Tobias.” She waved it off but relished the burn of warmth where his hand was.

“You’re so much different than I thought. And I thought I knew you after seven years.”

“I’m complex. Like the cookie you selected.”

“Yeah.”

He asked if she would come over again and she said she wouldn’t miss it.

He walked her to the door and helped her with her coat. She let, giving him a hug, and he found himself kissing her on the cheek.

“I’m so sorry Fiona, I don’t know what came over me.”

“You missed.”

He asked what and she merely grinned and slowly placed her lips on his. It lasted only a second, but the warmth of her lips burned him inside.

“Goodnight, Tobias.” She pinched his cheek, caressed his face, and left.

Gentleman though he was… he did enjoy watching her walk away. 😶‍🌫️

He talked to Fiona every day. Always texted or called or visited in some capacity. Steadied him to talk to someone who knew his experiences. He found he very much enjoyed getting to know her.

One night, she invited him to one of her shows. He couldn’t believe the artistry involved, even if the lewdness of her act made him blush.

She’d come out dressed as Marlene Dietrich. A variation of the suit she wore in Morocco. Fiona was smoking in a sparkly, woman cut suit and it turned Beecher on more than anything.

She worked the crowd. Was good at what she did. Smiling and waving and blowing smoke in everyone’s face.

When she came to Beecher’s table, she smirked and leaned down, kissing him on the lips, hiding herself with her hat. It was something out of a dream.

Beecher waited until the end to give Fiona the flowers he brought. Hyacinths.🪻🪻🪻Pink and purple.

He knocked on the dressing room and entered at her request.

His smile disappeared when he saw she had a man in there. A handsome, shirtless man. Fiona pushed him off her when Beecher entered.

He was crushed and didn’t understand why.

“These are for you.” He said lamely, and she accepted them graciously.

“Thanks for coming, Toby.”

“Always, Fiona.”

Beecher was hurt that Fiona had a lover. He wasn’t sure why he was. They certainly weren’t romantic. Flirty, sure, but Fiona was flirty with everyone. Maybe that’s all it was?

At dinner that Friday night, Beecher broached the subject.

“Who was… I mean… the guy in your dressing room?”

“Damien? Oh, you know, e pluribus unum.” She said with a wink, and Beecher flinched. Fiona noticed.

“Any reason you’re asking?”

“…just curious.” Toby said, continuing to eat his meatloaf. Fiona dropped the subject till after dinner.

“Were you hoping to meet Damien? Because while he’s entertaining in other ways, I hardly think he’s the type for scrabble night.”

They did words with friends on their phones together. Fiona won every time. Like… every time.

“No. Sorry if I made it awkward by asking.” He took a bite from his cookie and muttered something. Fiona asked him to repeat.

“Maybe this time don’t battle a mouthful of cookie.” She teased.

“It’s just… you’re so wonderful, Fiona. I’d hate to think of you entertaining people who don’t deserve you.”

He’d expected Fiona to thank him and tell him she can watch out for herself. Fiona did not react this way. She got angry. Quiet angry.

“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Beecher. That said, it hardly seems like your business.” She sniffed and left it at that, but Beecher kept pushing.

“Does it make you happy? The dressing rooms and random men-“

“Beecher, enough.” She stood up, gathering her things.

“Fiona I didn’t mean-“

“I thought you were different, Toby. Don’t think I don’t know what I am to you and everyone else. I’m a back up. Someone to flirt with just enough to keep them around but when it’s time for romance it’s always someone else. You’re just that way. Just mad that your second place has other options.” She opened the door, careful not to wake Holly.

“Fiona, please don’t go. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that. You’re not my back up-“

“You’re right. I’m not your anything.” She sniffed as a tear rolled down her face. “I’ll never be Keller.”

She left and Toby stayed up that night and cried for the first time in a while.

Holly saw him despondent the next morning. He was making her breakfast but with none of his usual talking.

“When’s Miss Fiona coming over again?”

“…probably not for a while, pumpkin.”

“What’d you do?”

He chucked darkly and figured he had nothing to lose. He told her that he’d kissed Fiona. That he’d really fallen for her. That he saw her with another guy and got jealous.

“Do you want to date her?”

“I think so.”

“You have to make a grand gesture. Like in the old movies. Something big and romantic to let her know you’re not just interested when someone else is.”

He thanked his daughter for having the brain cells he didn’t.

Fiona was with her friends, telling them about Beecher while she was getting ready.

“Men are pigs.” She stared flatly. “Thought this one was different. But we kissed a month ago and nothing until he sees stupid Damien in my room. Damien! Of all people! The kid with fewer brain cells than my left tit! That’s who Beecher’s jealous over.”

She was narrating to no one at this point but it didn’t matter. She fixed her mascara, trying not to cry again. She’d wasted enough time on that jerk.

Suddenly, music played over the loud speaker. It was coming from the stage. Singing, but not the usual boisterous melodies. Something sad and soft. Took Fiona a second to recognize the song.

“I got it bad… and that ain’t good.”

She sprung to her feet, grabbed a robe, and made her way to the stage with the other drag queens.

Beecher was there, in his father’s old suit, red rose in the lapel, singing softly into the microphone. She stopped at stage left, just watching him. He turned to her, and changed the song.

“Dream lover, where are you, with a love, oh, so true. And the hand that I can hold to feel you near as I grow old?”

She smiled softly. Dream lover.

“Because I want. A girl. To call. My own. I want a dream lover… so I don’t have to dream alone.”

The other guys cheered him on when he finished, and he would have thanked them, if his eyes had left Fiona even for a second.

She stepped forward, arms crossed. She pretended to still be angry.

“Causing a scene at my work?”

“Needed to see you. You haven’t played your word in days.”

She shrugged and went to turn away, when Beecher stopped her and touched her face gently, forcing her to look in his eyes.

“I love you, Fiona. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. You’re more than enough. Too much. Much much too much. But I’m greedy, and I want it all. You’re not my backup. You’re not second place. And you’re right, you’re not Keller. But I’m glad. Because I’m not the same Beecher either. I love the way you are around Holly. I love the way you make pasta arrabbiata, and I love that you sing to yourself in Italian while you do it. I love that you laugh at my jokes, even the ones that aren’t funny. I love that you’re so strong. That nothing ever stops you from being yourself. I love-“

“You done?” She asked, deadpanned. He nodded and turned to leave. She stopped him with an arm on his waist. “Because I’d like to start. I love the way you are with Holly too. I love that you call cookies a nightcap and that you make terrible, terrible dad jokes all the time. I love that you love salad and to you a salad isn’t just lettuce and dressing. I love you too, Toby.”

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, but he took full advantage and dipped her in his arms, absorbing her muffled squeak as he did so.

He waited for her to finish rehearsal and they left together, holding hands the whole way to his house.

“Don’t you have to explain this to Holly?”

“The suit was actually her idea.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Smart girl. Though if she were really smart, she’d have told you to pick up something chocolate and something shiny too.”

Tobias smirked triumphantly

“Check under your seat.”

Fiona pulled out a box of chocolates and a jewelry box with a shiny silver bracelet in there.

“I was looking for a necklace but Holly insisted girls like bracelets.”

They giggled the whole way home.

“Oh, Tobias, you missed my turn.”

“I was actually hoping you’d spend the night.”🔥

“Oh… I… OH.” Fiona understood what that entailed.

“Not that I’m not tickled pink by the proposal, honey, really I am. But… I look a little different without all my effects. You do know that right?”

Beecher pulled into his driveway and sat with her for a second.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”😔

“Fiona, right now, you look like a million bucks. I’m gonna take you upstairs and make up for seven years of not ravishing you. And in the morning, when I see you without your makeup, and jewelry, and fancy dresses, I’m gonna kiss you and make you coffee and bring it to you in bed. That’s what’s gonna happen.”

Fiona, for the first time in her life, was speechless. 😶

“I…”

“I’ll also take you back to yours if you want. Your choice.”

She thought for a moment and in a flash, leaned over to him and kissed him passionately.

“Mmmm lets see what you got, Daddy.”

They exited the car, but before the entered the house, Beecher stopped her.

“I want this to be perfect.” He picked her up and carried her through the threshold. He carried her all the way to his room, laid her down in the bed, and started necking her.

He turned her over, placing his body weight on her and kissing her neck.

She was releasing soft “oh”s with each breath.

Fiona had been fucked many a time before but she would be hard pressed to tell you when the last time someone made love to her was.

That’s what this was. Each silent, squeaky thrust.

“Sorry if I don’t get hard. I’m back on estrogen.”

Toby chucked and husked in her ear.

“Did you honestly feel like you have to apologize for anything? Because you don’t.”🥵

They slept together that night in every sense of the term.

When they awoke the next morning, checked was spooning her, face in her neck. He took a deep breath of her natural scent.

She stirred. Tobias stared at her face for a long time. The masculine jaw and the womanly cheekbones. The soft eyes and the pursed lips. Her tanned skin and curvy body. She felt him staring and woke up.

“Hey.” she greeted him with a lower voice than usual. Beecher smirked. “Still like what you see?”

“Somehow, and impossibly, more than before.”❤️

He kept his promise, kissed her on the lips and went downstairs to make her coffee.

Holly saw him holding two coffee cups and smirked.

“I’m the greatest wingman ever. Where would you be without me?” She boasted to her dad’s blushing face.

She helped him make the coffee. Beecher was just going to bring it black with some creamer and sugar on the side.

“Don’t you know anything, Dad? She’s cool. Too cool for regular coffee. Make her a Frappuccino.”

Beecher couldn’t even pronounce the words she was saying so she signed and took over, sliding the blender past her dad.

Beecher carried his regular coffee and Fiona’s concoction.

Holly insisted on copious whipped cream.

“Can I come give it to her, Daddy? Please?”

Beecher told her sure but they had to make sure she was dressed first. Holly winked at him and he grimaced.

They knocked on the door.

“Honey? Are you decent? Holly wanted to say good morning.”

She told them she was and they wanted. She was sitting there in Beecher’s robe. It was everything I bush power not to take her for round two right then and there.

“Hi, Miss Fiona! I made you a hazelnut Frappuccino!” Holly gave it to her and then gave her a big hug.

“Take it easy on my dad.” She whispered in Fiona’s ear. “He doesn’t always say the right things, but he tries.”

Fiona nodded, and held Holly’s face in her hand, kissing her forehead softly.

“Thank you, child.”🫶

Fiona went to say something then turned her head. Holly and Toby shared a look. She was crying.

The both rushed to her sides.

“I’m sorry, Miss Fiona. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Holly said quietly. Fiona tutted and brushed away her tears to comfort Holly.

“You didn’t, my sweet thing. And he didn’t. These are good tears. Happy tears.” She sniffled. “Despite my face right now, I really am happy.”

“Is my dad your boyfriend now?”

Fiona giggled through the tears and stopped Beecher when he went to tell Holly that was an inappropriate question.

“I hope so.” She touched Beecher’s hair and stroked his face. “I could do much, much worse than Tobias Beecher.”❤️🫶

[lingerxng]

"Come here. We aren't done yet."

Guy squinted. "Beg pardon?"

"You heard me." Nohemi hadn't broken her stride. "We aren't done yet. I need a favor."

"Why should I give you one?" She could hear the scoff in his voice as he hurried to catch up.

"Because I just bought you new clothes and gave you new armor," she said, pulling open the door to the tavern the four were staying in.

"Aye, because*you* won't let me handle any money."

She stopped, fixing him with a flat look. "Fine. How about because I'm loaning you that body?"

He held her gaze for a moment, deliberating, then relented and stepped in. Nohemi led him to a table in the corner. It was midday now; too early for lunch, so no one would bother them, hopefully. Guy got them two ales while Nohemi dug in her bag, pulling out a parchment, a pen, and ink, all newly bought, and setting them at the seat across from her.

Guy looked... unimpressed, handing her one mug. "What's this?"

Nohemi took a breath. Then a drink. Then another breath. She made eye contact with Guy. "I'm about to be very vulnerable with you."

"Oh, gods."

"I have a favor to ask. I could have asked Silv or Jade, but I'm asking you. I'm asking you, Guy-- dear Guy--"

He was starting to look a little smug.

"--because you are an asshole."

The expression collapsed, and Nohemi took no small delight in it. She continued. "I don't like admitting my faults. So this is going to be hard for me. I'm asking you this, because you don't give a shit about me. We aren't friends. You aren't going to get emotional, like they would. And I *really* need someone who's just... who's gonna be impassive about this."

Green eyes fixed on her, face unreadable. It was still unsettling, seeing those eyes in a face she knew so well. She didn't think she'd ever get used to it; hopefully, she wouldn't have to.

Finally, Guy nodded. "What's the favor."

"I need you to write a letter for me."

"Can't do it yourself?"

"No. I can't write. Or read."

Her voice had an edge to it, like she was daring him to say anything. Guy McCheer, with his ivory tower education; Guy McCheer, so certain he was better than everyone; Guy McCheer, who took pleasure in punching down.

He didn't say anything. He fixed Nohemi with a look for a few long seconds, then unscrewed the inkwell, dipped the pen in, and poised his hand. "To whom am I addressing this letter?"

Nohemi swallowed, and began to dictate.

"Dear Ms. Tigenon,

"I am so, so sorry.

"I have spent weeks trying to find the words to say this, but I still don't have them. It is my fault. You know this as well as I do. And for that, I am so, so sorry."

She took a breath, staring at his hand as he scribbled. She had no way of knowing if he was actually writing what she spoke. She had to trust him. Had to trust that she *could* trust him.

She cleared her throat.

"I know--" She bit her lip. Started over. "I know nothing I say or do can bring him back. I am not asking forgiveness, or penance. This doesn't fix it. But I'm enclosing some money to help. You deserve it more. It's all I can give."

She took another steadying breath, quickly wiping her face. Nohemi was not about to cry in front of him. "I wish I could change things. I wish I could have taken his place. I don't know if it will bring you comfort, but know that I have to look what I did in the face every day and live with myself for it." She saw his hand falter, just for a moment. There was no scratch on the paper, but Guy took a second, looking up at Nohemi, before continuing his notation.

Another wipe to her face. "It won't fix things. But I'm bringing him home. As soon as I can, I'm bringing Taavi home.

"...From, Nohemi."

It took a few moments for Guy's hand to catch up, but he hesitated at the last moment. "Do you want to sign it?" he offered, glancing up.

Nohemi shook her head. "No, uhm. I told you, I don't know how."

"Not even your name?"

"No, Guy, not even my fucking name."

"Alright, alright..." He held one hand up defensively, then carefully scribbled out one final word. He blew on the paper carefully, letting the ink dry before it could smear. It was folded and sealed with a piece of wax Nohemi pulled from her pocket and heated over the candle.

He looked thoughtful as he handed over the sealed letter. Guy opened his mouth to say something, but Nohemi took the parchment from his grasp, mumbled a "thank you", and left back outside.

[furrywerewolfpizza]

Chapter three

A weird birthday

The feeling of hands rocking me awake making me a little startled. Sis made sure I don't fall off and hit myself. She leaves me so I can get dressed, I awake at approximately one hour before six to brush my teeth. After showering away all the makeup, I removed my shower cap. Marilyn Monroe, said dimensions are a girl's best friend so I added necklaces with my dress.

A nocking sound echoes on my door, it kept going until I stop curling curls, when I opened the door mom stood bereft of speech.

"Ohhhh...sweetie, you look precious."

"Really," I say,

"Let me fix the top,"

She flips my hair using her fingers.

Mom said dad whas on his way but got stuck in mud. Something's wrong, very wrong about that I don't wanna worry her.

"Don't worry moma," I rubbed her back.

My sis smiled kind heartedly as always not desturbed, or disappointed.

"He'll be here,"

I fixed my Marilyn dress straps, "How do I look? Should I...lose the Ferragamo sho-"

"Ya you better. Your ass is gonna slip."

"Mom, language. You are a bad influence."

I told her while applying red lipstick and looking in the mirror, I switched my hills to white flats. "Move it people out of the room," sis was already gone not standing by my door any more.

"See you before dinner moma,"

I said hugging her.

Angela wished me a happy birthday and started her car driving me beside leafless trees, I admired them. Dad used to take me to his brother's cabin, he would climb the bark with me but failed everytime. I pulled out my note book when I made it to school and dashed my way to English class. I fill nerves about going alone, nobody knows me. People in the hallway stared, I wondered why they did.

A boy wearing a white and blue striped vest walks up to me, he's fallowed by another boy. "Hay I'm Troy. This is James. I never seen you around."

The boy said flirtatiously,

"What, I...

"Look at that she's speechless." James laughs making me nervous, I wanna hide and jump out the window.

"I'm just trying to find English, excuse me."

Troy boy stops me and pushes my back against the locker, not hard but vigorly. Dangerously close, he slips on a banana pile. Eruption of more laughter came from students filling the hall,

"Grosye." I spoke in Haitian. Bothe socked with embarrassment ran away. My backpack was already placed in my locker so I move leaving Troy and his dweeb friend. I've dealt with situations like this, usually I stand hopping someone would help but not this time. Worse start of my birthday.

Ms. Gray, handed work assignments about the fiddler on the roof to every student. I frown when I look at my homework, oh brother. Gray plays the film as we write notes, my tutor told me sounding out adjectives about fillings helps me, he believe it builds character. He reads to kill a mockingbird to me after school, I was approved in a early college program. I hand Mr. Ron a sheet with my address and mom's number. "Bye Mr. Ron,"

After Ron waved goodbye I walked into the hallway. When grabbing my bag I saw a paper on the wall for gem, Hawkins is having their 1984 snow ball. My family loves parties with fancy things, mom always planes every event. I could meet new people, make new friends.

As I work on my math homework after school, the science teacher and Will's friend held up two fingers in a bye-bye gesture. I have to talk to him, end are weird energy. "Hello,"

He smiles than walkes away, "West is clear too, Will?" Silently speaking through headphones.

I caught up with him carrying my backpack.

"Hay! Wait. Your that Henderson kid, right?"

"Yah," the boy laughs awkwardly as if I broke the fourth wall. He holds a walkie talkie, "New girl. Science."

I wave and walk away with contentment. Friendships take time. According to my year in fifth grade, I must be aware, I must bend the social rules. That's what I'm born to do, people always see me as a mysterious girl. Angela took a night shift so mom will be picking me up, she wants to practice level one spells. I beat her everytime, the game goes one way. Objects are disband in other places by the alphabet. I start my timer by twisting it near sixty- minutes, and tossing my bolo knife in my bag as well.

[officialtayley]

Hello! Nobody asked me but I just wanted to muse. Too embarrassed to not be anon but promised I'm not here to be controversial or anything !

I wonder whether H's 180 switch up on the use of her public platform has come from maybe some feelings of embarrassment or guilt, like maybe she's (for whatever probably misguided reason) felt a bit embarrassed about sticking her neck out and has now decided that she'd rather be a bit more Dolly P and make change with quiet actions. Like she's told herself to shut up and just learn, did the Dolly interview, and then Palestine bits the news and she's just like....aight imma sit this one kut. I'm not saying I agree at all and I think we all have a duty to have been sharing and speaking up, no matter how big our reach - I shared stuff to my 500 ig followers and saw one friend go from "I'm not political I'm just a mama who wants the kids to be safe" to regularly sharing "write to your MP!" stuff after I started sharing! So imagine what H could do!

Like I'm still a huge fan but every time I see her/the band post and it's not addressed The News™ in any way, I just feel like "come on, PLEASE! We know you've seen the discourse!" and I don't even expect them to say anything now, it's too awkward and weird to come back from, but it's just like....ugh. but there must be something going on in her head for whatever reason which has made her decide that she really does want to turn off the news and at least not add to it with her voice, which is really shit but I have to remind myself that even if she made a name for herself standing up for things, it doesn't mean she has to do it forever and won't do it again I guess. Besides it's much easier to stand up for palatable things like gay rights and BLM I guess when it doesn't take as much unlearning/won't invite as much vitriol? I dunno I just be talking. I'm not trying to cause more debate and am absolutely not disagreeing with anything you've ever said, I'm just having to tell myself that there must be something that's made her decide to be quiet (not just Palestine related but thinking of her Dolly statement) and hopefully she'll be vocal and brave again one day, or we'll find out she uses her wealth like Dolly does in quiet activism or something.

Sorry this isn't anything new, I just hope she kind of "returns" to us soon and it stops feeling quite so icky. Gonna listen to Idle Worship a few times and just stare at some photos of Taylor or something idk

i get you and that's kinda how i think most have been feeling. it's not like we hate her or anything, it's just confusion because she didn't gradually just stop or something, it was very sudden and i think people expected it to last a long time since she was so passionate about it.

she's still kinda there. before bmld recently she did the usual racism bad homophobia bad speech along with smth about someone running for resident next year is also bad so idk... it's just weird i guess.

[writerslock]

chapter one- who he never was- introduction

I’m not sure how to start this off.

The doctors told me it would be better to write all this stuff down to help with my memory, but I've never been good with introduction paragraphs. or introduction thoughts in this case, so i’ll start with the basics. My name is Anastasia, and I'm 16 years old. I have a lot of personalities, but my favorite one has to do with the fact I love love. if that makes sense. I love the feeling of love, I love loving others, i just.. I love love love.

I'm inferring that at least, as almost all of the posters in my room have a quote about love. My assumption is confirmed after seeing that the lights that adjourn the first clump of posters are hearts, and after skimming through my white bookshelf covered in dust, 99 out of the atleast 100 books have to do something with love.

I was told that I suffered a concussion during a crash I was involved in during the summer. my mom refuses to let me know what happened, telling me it will come when it comes. i don’t remember a lot to be honest, which is why i’m snooping around my own room, like a creep, but i guess not a creep in a way? I mean, the person i’m creeping on is myself, and technically I have permission. or is it just the creep in me- you know what, i’m just gonna stop talking.

back to what i was saying. I remember some names, and only two people including my mom, and also some feelings associated with it, but other than that, I can't remember jack shit. However, I still know all of the bracelet patterns I learned at summer camp in 5th grade. camp chattanooga 1, concussion 0. After I scour the underside of my bed, I find a box full of letters. all addressed to PEOPLE. WITH NAMES! AND STORIES. thank god past me had a passion for writing. The only issue with that is, some of the things I've made up or changed for, you know, my stories.

for example, test subject one. Wait, I hate that name, it makes me sound crazy. crush 1? no, basic. I know! victim 1. eh, it sounded better in my head. Whatever, code names don’t matter right now

victim one, carmen-

my first boyfriend, despite his name making him sound like a girl. I know this is a code name , but I know why I picked it. He had a girly name. That also made him sound like a summer boy.I had boyfriends before, but he was the real one, the one that stuck. We dated for a month in 7th grade, but he broke up with me shortly after. He wouldn’t even tell me why, had to find out a year later (by also being nosy). in the letter, one of the main points is an argument.. that happened a year after we dated.

what.

I don't know what to do with this information.

It feels like it’s pointing me in the right direction, but also pointing me right to a dead end. Also note that his name is on multiple letters in this box, and I have a hunch that there’s other things leading to him hiding in this room. I'll take this letter to one of the only people I remember, my best friend steve. she’ll remember something.

our weather might be bipolar, but i feel like recently august has always been hotter than it should. I'm wearing leggings, my white sneakers that have turned off white because of how dirty they've turned, a white tank top that was way too overpriced but made my boobs look good, and to top it all off, a zip up gray jacket. a cliche august core outfit, but i'm somehow still crisping up like a marshmallow.

I wanted to walk to be more aesthetic, but immensely regretted it a mile in, forgetting that even though it’s considered walking distance, it’s still 3 and a half miles.

As I walk into the small, low key library she works for, the century old bell rings throughout the store, alerting all of the college students just trying to study and the prestigious book worms I've entered the area.

As I walk up to the counter slowly, I scope around for steve. tilting my head to get a better angle around the shorter bookshelves, I still can’t find her anywhere. I end up walking up to the counter for help.

average height, brunette is at the counter. He has a lot of cologne on, as I can smell it from far, but it’s surprisingly not suffocating. it smells like he just came back from the beaches of Florida, so what’s he doing here? for some reason, it feels like he fits it but is a total outlier all at the same time. He doesn’t even notice me, as he seems preoccupied with sorting the $1.25 bookmarks they sell by color on the counter.

“hello welcome to legre scriptum-

…

anastasia?..”

oh shit.

[bylightofdawn]

I'm so mentally boomed from work. I chased this fraudster across like 6 accounts, found multiple fake ID's they are sending in, multiple closed accts using different IMEI and different addresses across like 4 states. I legit was starting to feel like Charlie from Always Sunny meme.

This was me when I finally had to drag myself out of the rabbit holes I'd gone down. And this was IN BETWEEN taking constant calls. So I'd find another correlated fraud thing and get a call and have to stop what I was doing and then pick it up again afterward.

And I love it, I love getting to play detective and piece together all this stuff together. I love my job, I just hate how underpaid and overworked I am. If the idea of going back to college didn't exhaust me I'd actually consider trying to go into a field tangential to this because I'm good at what I do, I'm methodical, detail-oriented and I catch stuff a lot of other reps overlook. I say that knowing I prolly sound arrogant as fuck but I have the case work to back that shit up. I think part of that is because I spent ten years as a printer and it kind of trained my eye to pick apart things critically, yanno? Lord the tales I could tell but cannot tell because of NDA's.

Anyway I am mentally drained, suffice it to say. I feel bad I haven't really written anything today, so I'm going to force myself to try and write just a little bit, but my heart isn't in it if I'm being honest. It's still raining sporadically and all I want to do is curl up under the covers and sleep.

I have been thinking a lot and I think I am going to pause on writing Seeds and work on something else. I have like a 15 chapter buffer so it's not like I HAVE to finish it this week or this month.

So I think I'm going to work on that post Cody defecting Bad Batch fic idea I had cause it's going to be atmospheric and moody and I feel like that will spark some joy.

I also need to just give myself some grace here too, I'm burned out. even if I can't write another word on Seeds for the next six months and I run out of buffer chapters it's not like you're getting fucking paid for this, El. It's not the end of the world. People wait months for chapters or even years. It's just a major fear of mine that I won't finish it and I've done all this work and gotten so close to the end.

But realistically, it's not going to happen. I know I will inevitably bully myself into finishing it. I don't need some self-entitled shithead commenter to be all "Where's the next chapter, bro?"

There is literally nothing they can say that I won't have prolly told myself already because I am forever my own worst critic. And this year is about my trying to NOT be my biggest critic or if not that at least give myself some grace and to not beat myself up constantly for my perceived failings and letting it spiral from you failed as a fanfiction writer to you failed as an person because that's not a healthy headspace to be in and I refuse to keep putting myself through that hell.

And lord lemme tell you what a day to day battle that shit is. Because no one can catastrophize like I can. I legit failed to type my PW in twice at work today and my brain immediately went to "Did I get fired and they haven't told me yet and all my credentials are invalidated?" despite having JUST SIGNED INTO MY VPN SO OBVIOUSLY NOT. But that's where my brain immediately went. So yeah, that's a work in progress. I'm trying though.

Okay I'm going to put on the Halo ODST soundtrack in the background because I think it's gonna be some fire background music for this fic and I'm going to start cracking on with it.

[mirceakitsune]

Tales from a spirit that could not be broken

For the most part I've stopped making journals like this. Something happened a few days ago that has been stuck in my mind and kept pushing me to write those thoughts down. Even when I know it addresses an audience alien to myself and beings that are fundamentally different… 99% of people reading this will likely not get close to getting it. And I try not to belittle anyone in saying so, it's just a rational realization in knowing how things stand: It's not to consider myself better, better or worse are subjective terms… I'm just someone that exists in different ways and to serve different purposes. But at least for my own sake and the feeling pushing me since, I will write it.

About a week ago we celebrated the resurrection based on the Romanian Orthodox Easter. It may surprise some to hear this, but I am in fact going to church on occasion at least during the Easter celebrations… now that after years of living under the lies fed by a compromised religion, I better understand who / what God truly is and that he has nothing to do with the caricature painted by this culture. On the night of the resurrection of Christ, what they call the miracle flame comes on in Jerusalem… not gonna debate whether this flame is just another human trick or a breach in the veil that higher beings have allowed to occur, my rational mind is still thorn yet open. The flame is flown to other Orthodox nations by plane which includes churches in Romania, at midnight local priests offer it to people around the church to light their own candles, which then pass it on until everyone lights theirs and goes home with it.

In my case I do this with my mother and some old family friends: After we light our candles we typically go and visit them for a few hours, picking colored eggs to smash against each other then eating them as is done traditionally. We spent a few hours chatting about various things… from normal stuff we all agree on, to friendly arguments on worldly stuff that would get me banned in ghettos like Furaffinity for merely mentioning them again. The fact that me and my mother are from a version of reality parallel to the world some of our friends diverged into isn't what I want to get into right now, at least not in terms of what I'd typically rant about; It's another discussion that emerged from those arguments that relit a fire with me.

At some point my friend told me that in life, you need to go with what you're told and do what you gotta do to put food on the table, how what matters before anything else is having what to eat and drink to survive. I told him I'd happily rather die than live like a robot, that I don't care to survive at any cost, that I will be here as long as existence wants and allows me to then move on. He replied that you have to live as a robot in order to survive and it's foolish to think otherwise, giving me all the serious and rational sounding tropes I've heard so long ago. There was no point in upsetting him, as with most such things we agree to disagree… he's a good being and I'm happy to know him regardless, at this point I'm not even upset at him at all it is who he is; I left it be, yet it's not something I could put behind in my own mind.

This brought back memories from my teen self, back when I once went out with the few friends I ever interacted with: I remembered how instead of even saying "hello" to me, most would introduce themselves by asking "what is your specialty and what will you do in life"… I remembered how alien it felt and how it repulsed me. Our conversation was a reminder of two things: That I don't belong here regardless of the reasons for which I was sent, and that humanity will never change on its own but forever be the life form they are since thousands of years ago. Humans are animals, who at worst live for survival and at best for simple purposes… somewhat domesticated and with complex brain power (far too complex for what they should have) yet choosing to remain mere creatures of this world in making no attempt to surpass the illusion created by their minds. As I said the goal isn't for me to be a butt and get off to belittling others, but to a great extent it's not something I can avoid: It's impossible that I could lie and pretend I don't know it, when merely seeing what they are and feeling its energy is like the soul equivalent of drinking rat poison. It's not something I can use words to explain further; You'd need to experience it to know… I suspect only a handful can get close to truly knowing why I'm saying this, maybe I'm wrong in this assumption and there are others out there but if there's one thing I know it's we're incredibly few. Among the rest I'm well aware most will happily interpret this to convince themselves I'm as crazy as they already believed… and you know what? I think I prefer it that way and it makes it all the more fun!

Know what makes me smile in the face of the misery and tragedy that is your world? The fact that I beat it… I already won. You see… it doesn't matter what your culture, your governments, your police forces may or may not do to me; For at least 20 years you tried your best, yet you could not break me, and in the end you never will. The war was first and foremost for our minds and souls: You tried to shut down open communications so none that is different and could pose an inconvenience would risks remembering themselves… tried to scrub even art off the face of the web hoping I'd forget myself and what I resonate with whenever you felt there's something you couldn't control me over… endlessly echoed the same lies in a hall of mirrors hoping they inevitably become truth with enough voices screaming them… as all that failed and you failed to make me feel guilty just for existing, the last resort was to kick me out of any place I frequent or relied on to eliminate the danger you decided my existence posed. Yet in spite of the worst your evil could throw within the limits of this day and age, I'm still here and never once gave in. The most your crying army could do is making me live in a different time… part of me still in the early 2000's with the creativity and false hope we had back then, another part in a future that may never exist or be decades ahead of the present time… what can I say it's fun to be a time traveler.

The reality is that unlike them, I have seen the light… a light most will go their entire lives without even comprehending, at best they lost the memory the first few years after biological birth. You feared me because the existence I remember disturbs the comfort of the darkness you live in, in a handful of cases the systems of power some rely on to continue playing God with the rest. The most evil are disguised as the kindest of them all, yelling of how they love you and just want to keep you safe as they bite their tongues to hide how badly they want to make you serve them. The sincere but naive think you fought for something great because you glued yourself to a highway to protest the pollution of some oil company… easy to be a hero when you do what your peers are doing and everyone has your back, often after the media rather than your own heart decided on the little momentary cause you're fighting for. You hide those empty lives behind more and more fake complexity, using ever advanced toys or scientific concepts to make the nothingness seem as something extraordinary. So logical and scientific they never bothered to look up something called universal law, the thing observable science is based on and emerges from… among many things it includes something called free will, a rule they've raped to hell and back during the past years thinking there would be no consequences whatsoever. Black is white, up is down, cold is warm… the dinner keeps on going as everyone stuffs their faces with whatever is left, commenting on how good each food tastes and the fancy details behind how it was made, floating in a void where nothing exists beyond the table as the table chairs and everyone attending slowly sink into the chasm of shit.

I don't know what exactly will happen from here on: I don't have access to information about the most likely course of events this world is about to take. What I do know based both on what I see happening in the open and means that never let me down, is that the party's about to be over soon and it's not gonna be pretty; What's coming will be unpleasant for everyone, even I won't escape it either since the approaching trainwreck is global. But it's a necessary step, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Today's world exists in error, a still medieval society possessing modern technology it can't even understand or handle… this is not what 2020 and beyond were meant to be, fundamentals that are decades overdue were kicked down the road till the can can't be kicked any further and the pile comes crashing down.

I'm not going to say more of what I know or think or believe: I've already given enough ammo to certain people… then again me caring what others think has been one of the things I myself had to get past, as such it's all in good practice. But what I did want to say is how happy I am throughout any and all of the depression… that in spite of an entire world that's been not only alien but hostile, I won for both myself and others who come from the same patch of existence as myself: Once this momentary spectacle of an existence is inevitably over, it's what I'm taking with me and going back to… a temporary existence I will also triumph over anyway. I know you have no idea what I actually am, which is logical as for all those years I became an expert in knowing how to stay silent and act like everyone else; I still have fun wondering how various people will react, between the ones who would embrace it and those who'd fight or flee and the ones who simply wouldn't give a damn… as time goes on I care less and less still: Jesus had to deal with far worse when he faced humanity's true nature on the cross, so did priests tortured in Communist prisons even here in my country during the very year I was born… when did they even know how to give up? When you remember you're not the pile of flesh you see in the mirror and your time here is a temporary illusion where things don't happen at random, it's a far more detached view of the horrifying fire raging below when you look down, even when some try to make it so bad it gets to anyone every once in a while.

[blondrichclosetwitch]

Psychic Jakk 3/9 after waiting at a bar3/9/17

(her tone is very coquettish throughout this scene; this is due to the fact that originally fake stella told me about a past life where she was my lover and jakk"s wife, and the karma we had together )

Should I go get his picture? OK hold on a second.

(She goes and gets it)

. Should I use this pendulum? No I should use this one, OK hold on.

Jack! Hi babe I went to the bar and I tried to find you and I couldn’t find you. I really want you to come over. Will you come over? Please? (This happened dozens of times. At least thirty.)

Please?

I’ll sing you songs. We’ll have sex. And I’ll calm you down.

Stella and I are here, we’re talking and we’re waiting for you. The house is messy, sorry.

I’ll make it better tomorrow while you’re at work but just come over.( She gives the address as if he doesn't know it)

and I’ll leave the rest.

That’s all you have to do, just get here.

Say yes. Come home. Is that a yes? That looks like a yes.

Stella is smiling for Brown eyes at you and I’m smiling my green eyes at you and you’ll get to see all the pictures i use to talk to you people.

And you’ll get to see how big stella'‘s plant is, her angel wing. But you should hurry up because I have to leave at 9:30 in the morning for therapy. So we can have sex before 2 a.m.

It’s just a girl and a cat, you’ll fit right in.

Won’t that be nice?

We haven’t had it *alllll* day. I’m sure you’re ready.

Are you walking around?

It’ll be nice, I promise. It’ll be a nice christening. It’ll be just what you would want it to be. You can turn off your brain. I’ll take care of you

Remember when my bag got stolen and I had no weed and you stopped by on your way to have date day with Blond and you dropped off some weed off for me so I wouldn’t be crazy? Well, think of this as payback. And the sooner you get here the sooner my back will stop hurting because you’ll be here.And you’ll get to hear my voice and you’ll get to see me for real.

I don’t even know how you see me.

But I would like to have sex with you before I go to sleep.

I also was totally bored having strap on sex with that guy today. I actually thought to myself this is really boring.

And he did try to put his hand on me, I don’t know if you caught that part.( psychic Jakk always wanted to be in the room for sessions so he could see; he got jealous a couple of

Times, and made me write to one and say I would never see him again. )

I was like “nope!” he was like “can’t I go down on you? “ And I was like “nope. None of that”. Hands-off. I am saving myself.

For my gorgeous boyfriend who hopefully I’m going to be seeing this evening. (Coquettish)You don’t want to let me down! Not after I saved myself! Do you?

Don’t you want my hands touching you? Don’t you wanna feel it for real?

(Pause)

My baby.

And ______ ____ _____.

I even took a shower after my last client so I would be clean for you. Thinking ahead. (Flirting) Made sure I was back here in time, never late for you, so thoughtful.I waited 2 1/2 years to have sex with you… Do you want to really make me wait?

How do you want me? You just gonna let me throw you on the bed, is that it? I will. Though we should move the futon in the other bedroom it’s a bigger bed.

Not tonight. Until we get a queen. That should be our bed. we’ll move it tomorrow. Of course then we’ll not have a couch (laughed ) temporarily. Do you like that idea having a bigger bed? A firmer… Structure… To throw you down on?

Are you on your way here? Oh look I’m taping this conversation (laughing ) that’s a good one. I can send it to you, we can listen to it. You really should hurry.

Are you getting closer?

(Laughing )come on babe. Time to come home. Time to have sex with your girlfriend. With your witch whore life partner. Would it help if I stripped in front of you? Would it make you get here any faster?

Would it help if I kissed your picture again?

Did you like it when I did that?

(Sing song) It’s been 25 minutes… Are you coming?

Are you coming over? How long are you going to make me wait? Do I need to put on sexier underwear for you?( Starts putting on underwear ) are you happy with those? No I don’t like those.

You’re supposed to be here. How many blocks away are you? One block? Good. Because I’m ready. Are you ready? Get here and fuck the shit out of me or vice versa. I’m giving you till 140. Oh! You’re close arent you? I can feel it. You’re close aren’t you? You’re almost here.

Is that you?

Really? You’re teasing me. You fucker. (Exasperated sigh ) are you here?

Are you for real here? I’m gonna go look. Are you outside?

(A long silent period.)

(Exasperated ) are you a spirit?

This isn’t Jakk??

Is it ever Jakk?

With the music it’s Jakk.

Where is Jakk now?

Is he…..is he still at a bar?

Yes?

(Solemn) he’s drinking.

Is he……: wasn’t he going to move in with me tonight?

(Sighs exasperatedly)

Should I just go to his work tomorrow?

(End tape)

New recording 95 3/10/17

… To me, and he was like… “My job is at stake… “. Did I imagine that?

(Sighs)

What… But I don’t understand. Is that, was that a spirit a trickster spirit?

What about… Did jack, did jack actually, but when Stella has brought Jack to me that’s real right?

What about…. What about… So what about that day when jack protected me and told me to go to the tree and do the tree ritual after the 19th after Blond‘s birthday and I sang all the Fleetwood Mac in the park was that jack? OK yes that was jack.

And what about… and is Jack actually sick?

He is. So him communicating with me is partially due to, he’s in between worlds right? Let me look something up. Why does he keep playing me suffragette city? (at that moment I heard “bam” in my head—-I was reeling a bit at hearing myself ask about suffragette city but the bam was wild)

(Reading from google) “Just put my spine out of place.”

What is suffragette city?

Oh. She’s controlling him.

She’s controlling him with sex?

Why is she like doing something… And she was bringing me into their sex is that right? Was she pretending to be me? But he’s not having sex with her anymore is that correct oh boy. And she is pregnant. So does he still work at Lafayette? So that’s where I have to go. And I should go there tonight. Are we going to be safe? Are you guys going to keep us safe?

Ok.

Is there anything special… I feel like you want me to do a spell. Laughs oh OK… Help me figure it out. (She goes into the back bedroom )

Ok.

(To be clear I knew nothing of magic but I trusted random & gina)

Spells of magic is that where I should go?

Under… Let’s see. Under love spells, under love spells? Under attraction spells,… You want me to look under attraction spells?

Do you know what you’re looking for? All right. (She starts listing off the spells listed)

(Incredulous) Lust from blood? Are you sure? You will need the following items for this spell: this spell is not a substitute for consent. See if your partner wants the same thing you do. Charge the persons arm, make the connection. Focus on their heartbeat which should be speeding up. Remember just because you’re ready doesn’t mean your partner will be. So you want me to do this when, you want me to do this in the restaurant?

(Incredulous)You want me to do it in the restaurant.

Just like focus on the blood in his body and then focus on his heartbeat? That’s all I do?

That’s it? That’s the spell? OK that’s easy. Fine not a problem.

Is there anything else I need to know right now? Blonde? She just doesn’t know I’m working anymore, I mean she thinks I’m trying to be a waitress now, right?But she’s still gonna try to make my life hell? So I’ll have to do my own laundry from now on.

Got it.

Can I bring him home tonight? Is it time? Can I go back to talking to him now? I should go to flat iron and try to go work, should I just go use my Maggie ad? OK talk to you later thank you. You!

(End tape)

[passingdaysthings]

03.5.2023 - Oh boy, peace?

Today is Sunday 

It seems like I really like writing on Sundays, and as usual, I read my last post before writing this one. Taylor and I slightly discussed why I deleted the pictures and videos, and I told him, it was just awkward for me when he would flirt with Victoria. This was something he decided to address only after drinking quite a bit. It seems like he didn’t think it was hardcore flirting, but I said I thought it was and it make me feel awkward. The man literally said he wanted to buy her flowers for Valentines, and he asked her to be his Valentines. Tbh, I didn’t think much of the Valentines thing, and it was more of the flowers thing. He wanted to send flowers to her even though that is not something he would do for anyone. I also told him it was just weird for me because she is my best friend, and she knows about our “friendship”. I guess it’s not weird to him because he probably thinks she doesn’t know anything about our “friendship”. I wonder if he will start acting weird or changing how he acts since I voiced my opinion about it. I really wish our friendship could go back to the regular friendship that it use to be. None of the sexual talk, no sleeping together talk, and just completely delete those 2 months of very relationship type stuff. I may have deleted the picture I sent, but then we just sent new ones. Life would be so much more peaceful if I could just stop this, but I just can’t help it. Why am I like this? I’ve never been like this before, and to be honest, Taylor could go date someone else, and I wouldn’t have much thought about it. I think I need to stop trying to understand Taylor too because that is not going to happen since he never speaks his mind. I need to get over it. I must really be bored or something to let these things continue bothering me enough to write about it.  

Onto other things, I am really annoyed with how my school teaches class because I feel like I am just getting the definition of things and no example. It’s like they expect to know how to work a problem based purely on knowing the definition of something. Like sir? Can I get an example or something related? I just don’t understand why school is taught so different from how things would be taught in real life. I am 100% that I will have to go through training at my future job regardless of what I learned in school. No way I am gonna start a new job, and they just throw me into the deep end without training. That’s how school is currently so it makes no sense to me. Thank you for the example, now would you please work on a problem similar to the one on homework. That would be useful. Also, I hate that homework is graded for correctness rather than completion. My problem with that is homework is used for us to practice what we learned in class, and mistakes are gonna be made because it is our first time learning or doing a problem like that. I don’t understand why it’s graded for correctness like an exam or test. I think that homework should be done, graded based on completion, and then feedback should be given so that our mistakes are something we can use to study for the then graded exam. That just makes way more sense to me. I think I am doing fine though, but it’s annoying how hard I have to work. I would have to say that I am pretty proud of myself for how well I am doing for someone who hasn’t done Calc 1 since high school, and has never taken calc 2, calc 3, dicrete math, and linear algebra untli now. From what I know, most of the people in my program already have a background in this, and I am really part of the minority that hasn’t done any of this before. I am iffy with my python skills though because I googled a lot of that stuff. I have learned that coding is a very interesting thing that no one seems to really know how to do, and everyone resorts to asking others on the internet about it. I am also pretty sure that I signed myself up for a hard time next quarter because I am taking 2 classes which consist of Prob and Stats for Data Science and Python Software Dev. 

Reasons for incoming poor mental health: 

1. I am pretty harsh on myself so I get pretty upset when I don’t understand things right away. Prob and Stats was a class I struggled in during undergrad and Python is very new to me. Failure is happening. 

2. I have been getting distracted pretty easily, but I think that I have just thought of a solution. I am going to use Tracy’s room as my work room. 

3. I definitely won’t have time to play video games so I think the lack of friendship will take it’s toll. Ofc, I will still have my volleyball friends so it won’t be too bad. 

4. I get annoyed when things are taught the way they are currently being taught. I hope that it gets better. I don’t think it was that bad the first quarter. 

I think that is enough for this post because I need to get back to watching Khan academy videos since the async lectures from class are useless. 

-P

[emptylotfiasco]

⬆ -1 ⬇ 💬30

Thew1cked1: Okay. Fucking Okay. lets pretend for the sake of the argument that ANYONE believes the load of horseshit that you just spat out. and to be absolutely, honestly real, NOBODY does. I have no clue WHY youd need to be told that, but in case for some reason you needed that spelled out: nobody believes your horseshit. ACTUALLY you probably DO need it spelt out, because people like you are so honest to god stupid that you geniunely SERIOUSLY BELIEVE that all of the fucking garbage you spewed actually happened.

>TheW1cked1: and let me be clear. it is NOT because the stuff you said would involve magic. I AM AN ACTUAL WIZARD. I KNOW HOW TO FUCKING DO MAGIC. Youll find that I'm the ONLY ONE on the internet who does. and if you even try to gotcha me by mentioning some culture exclusively practiced in the modern day by white girls with unwashed vaginas that you didnt know existed I will cast a spell that will make your brain MELT and gush out of your fucking ears and mummify you from the inside out. thats right. i know how to do that. I CAN do that. because I'm an actual fucking wizard and you're not.

Evilbeetle69: Anyone on this thread smoke weed? a puff of the good stuff every now and then? I suggest you try it HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW

>TheW1cked1: oh my fucking god kill yourself.

>> Evilbeetle69: Why would I do that, when I could instead give your mother cancer? And GIVE HER CANCER I HAVE DONE! MWAH HA HA!

>>>TheW1cked1: You gave some woman I've never met in my life cancer. good job. I REALLY cared about that. You REALLY GOT ME Evil. GOOD FUCKING JOB. How am I EVER gonna live another guiltless day in my life knowing some stupid broad FROM FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO died of lung cancer. I have no choice but to BROOM BLAST myself.

>>>>Evilbeetle69: Actually... IT WAS PROSTATE! HAHAHAHAHA!! MWA HA HA HA HA!

>>>>> TheW1cked1: YOU CANT GIVE A WOMAN PROSTATE CANCER YOU FUCKING SHART BLOODED GEED

>>>>>>Evilbeetle69: Zeus, my aquaintaince in the arcane arts, you should know by now that there is nothing beyond the realms of wizardly magic! MWA HA HA HA!

>>>>>>>TheW1cked1: STOP. FUCKING. REPLYING TO ME.

>>>>>>>>Evilbeetle69: How could I when you get so delightfully mad? haw haw haw haw!

TheW1cked1: fucking okay. Even If i wasn't one hundred percent sure you were a faker (i will get into reasons for this later but its obvious to ANYONE whos actually done real magic once in their fucking life) youre really fucking deranged and you need professional help. its a failure of every possible world infrastructure that a fucking psycho like you was allowed to roam free and you should be fucking detained or encased in concrete like a vat of radioactive waste and dropped into the ocean. anyone whos rage boner has reached acrobatic fucking feats of autism should not be allowed to work with children. and actually the fact that youve been trying to kill one for 500 years makes me think that if this was to be taken seriously you would be in jail right now.

>TheW1cked1: I HOPE EVERY CELL IN YOUR BODY SPONTANEOUSLY STOPS RESPIRING AND YOUR GENITALS FUCKING IMPLODE. HANG YOURSELF YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING SPECIMEN OF LIFE

>>TheW1cked1: That was my own comment.

Thew1cked1: Not like the literal child who murdered multiple people isnt a jackass too (probably also made up like the rest of this fucking story) but if i couldnt kill him the first time around i would fucking give up and do anything else with my life. arent you a fucking adult or something. dont you have a job and money. why the fuck are you like this. im not even gonna address any of the false timeline assasination stuff because what the actual flying fuck

Thew1cked1: Anyways. ESH i guess. but i cant fucking bear to think about this for another moment without popping a vein so im inclined to say YTA just because i hate you and i think you should fucking die.

Thew1cked1: to anyone else looking at this: just dismiss this as the stupid fucking creative writing schlock it obviously is. because this person OBVIOUSLY wants attention and knows that lying on the internet gets you it nine out of ten times. as if anyone could take this shit seriously when in the middle of this soap opera bullcrap they throw out that apparently they fucking. have the whole world trapped in a time loop. and if this chick is really using battle worlds she should have full control over every element of her world. just. STOP. IMAGINING YOUR ASSASSINS EXIST. ITS THAT FUCKING EASY. But obviously she cant do that because you shouldnt be able to BRING A GIANT CHUNK of the world into your fucking brain space. nobody fucking does that. thats not a thing. people like you make me mad at the world. to think im the only thing standing between drooling mouthbreathers like you and the total annihilation of the world makes me want to neck myself. what the fuck is the point. what is the point of anything. i fucking hate magic and i hate you

>Evilbeetle69: 217.127.228.134. <- your ip address!

>>Thew1cked1: Why. holy fuck. why

CrazyyAndyy: Anyone here smoke weeeed

Write an r/AmITheAsshole post told from your OC’s perspective. (Bonus: include replies from your other OCs.)