#i have a track record with my friends for always going for the psychopath

[excelsior9173]

i’m sure it says very not good things about me but i am watching the heathers movie (again) and i am so stupidly attracted to j.d.

he’s sooooo charming (hello that’s the psychopathy) and also christian slater is just. fuck he’s so handsome. i’m literally head over heels from the very first “greetings and salutations” every time i watch this movie

[fairyhaos]

❍ ultimate boyfriend material // lee dokyeom

dokyeom x gn!reader (ft. bsf!hoshi), 3k+ words

tags: elementary teacher!dk, fluff, crack, established relationship, bi disaster hoshi bc i said so 😗✌, literally just for fun idk what this is lmao

warnings: swearing, alcohol + food mention, yn has only had bfs before, a bit rambly pls bear w me

summary: in which you bring your boyfriend seokmin to yours and soonyoung's monthly dinners, and it ends up going way better than anyone had expected.

You glance upwards to see Soonyoung looming forebodingly over you like a disapproving shadow, and you sigh.

"Soonyoung. Look. It's going to be totally fine. Seokmin is really, really sweet."

Soonyoung doesn't cease in his looming, continuing to glare darkly down at you as you take your shoes off, having just entered his house for your monthly dinner chats. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but your current track record means that I don't believe you in the slightest."

"Come on, my taste in boyfriends isn't that bad."

Soonyoung squawks, breaking his intimidating façade in an instant. "Isn't that b— your last boyfriend tried to hit on my girlfriend! Whilst both of us were right there!"

You cringe a little at the memory, before waving off his words. "This time won't be like that. I promise."

"Oh, it better not be like that,” your best friend says darkly as he leads you through his apartment. “I held back last time, but if this guy is as much of a douchebag as the other one, then I’m punching him all the way into space.”

“Seokmin won’t be that bad at all, I promise! Also, please don’t punch anyone,” you beg, trailing after him into the kitchen. “You know how much of a wimp you are.”

Soonyoung simply ignores your jab at his strength with a sniff. “Well, we’ll see how good of a boyfriend this Seokmin is, first.”

Every month since graduating and having to move away due to your respective jobs, you and your best friend, Soonyoung, set aside one Saturday evening where you meet at one another's houses, have dinner, and complain about all the ridiculous things that have gone on in your life whilst the two of you were apart. 

They were fun, easy ways to destress, and you loved catching up with your best friend. But after the first disastrous dinner all those years ago where you'd brought your then-boyfriend to meet Soonyoung, every few months, the monthly dinners became a sort of hell the revolved specifically around the idea of your boyfriends acting up terribly and Soonyoung staring at you with less and less faith in your ability to choose a suitable romantic partner for yourself. 

This time, you'll be introducing your fourth boyfriend over the course of the several years of these dinners, and it's safe to say that you're a bit nervous. 

“This Seokmin guy already has some notes in my bad books right now, though,” Soonyoung says as he brings out the snacks, pouring chips into little fancy dishes. This time, it's his turn to host, and he likes pretending these are fun, formal affairs. “He didn't even show up with you. Where is he?”

You sigh, picking up a few dishes and following Soonyoung out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“I told you, he has a work thing,” you explain. “He's always really busy, but he'll be here, I promise. He promised me that he'll make time for this.”

Soonyoung snorts sceptically. “Well, that'll be a new one,” he says. “Your boyfriend not even showing up.”

“He will show up!” you say, and then roll your eyes. “Come on, Soonyoung. Don't judge the guy. You haven't even met him yet.”

“Oh, I'm judging alright,” Soonyoung says, shaking his head. He flops down onto the sofa. “Though I have to say, the bar is practically on the floor, right now. After seeing the kind of guys you date, I'll be blown away if he's not some kind of psychopath.”

You groan as you sit down next to him, immediately attacking the chips. “No matter what you say, my first boyfriend wasn't actually some psycho.”

“And neither was your second, huh?”

“Wh—no! Come on, Soons, all my boyfriends were actually quite sweet,” you argue. “The second guy paid for everything for me when we were dating.”

“Yeah, and then you broke up with him at our dinner and he smashed his own phone out of anger then tried to steal my silverware,” Soonyoung points out. “Why even try to steal my silverware, anyway? I own, like, five forks, and that's it.”

You look at Soonyoung, curious. “You own five forks?”

He waves a hand. “Yeah. But anyway, my point is, my expectations are very low, but that doesn't mean my standards are. If he's a bad person, even if he’s not as bad as the others, it doesn't matter. I'm kicking him out. You might have bad taste, but you still deserve better.”

With another long-suffering sigh, you rub your forehead. “Soonyoung, I promise you. Seokmin is actually a decent guy. You'll love him a lot, too, I'm sure of it.”

Soonyoung eyes you sceptically. “I'll believe it when I see it.”

“I swear to God—”

Three, neat knocks on Soonyoung’s front door interrupt you, and both of you stare at each other, eyes wide. 

“That's Seokmin,” you say, and immediately leap up from the sofa to go greet your boyfriend. 

“Hey, let me go see the guy first, I wanna see if he's actually all that gr—”

“Seokmin,” you say a little breathlessly, having already opened the door before Soonyoung can leave the living room and get to his own front door. When he gets there, though, he slows down, surprised. 

Seokmin beams at you, all shining eyes and gentle care. His hair is wind-ruffled, as if he'd run all the way from the bus stop in a hurry, and he's apologising profusely for being late but you simply wave his words aside, kissing him on the cheek placatingly and then laughing when he gives you a kiss on the nose in return. 

He's cute, Soonyoung realises, astounded. You look really cute together. 

Well. As Seokmin smiles at you and pinches your cheek adoringly, Soonyoung is at least able to quite happily cross off Not a psychopath on his list of worries over your boyfriend.

“Here, this is Soonyoung!” you say, leading Seokmin by the hand further into the house as if you own the place, pointing to where Soonyoung is standing at the end of the hall. “Soonyoung, meet Seokmin, my boyfriend.”

Seokmin smiles at him, expression turning a little nervous as he gives Soonyoung a wave. “Hi! It's nice to meet you.”

He holds something out to him, and it's then that Soonyoung notices the bag in Seokmin's hands that holds a rather expensive bottle of wine, and his eyes widen. 

“I kind of panicked and bought the most expensive one I could see,” Seokmin said, shoulders rising bashfully even as he smiles. “But I couldn't exactly come empty-handed, so, uh, here you go?”

Soonyoung shakes himself out of his daze, and gives a smile back, because it's somehow weirdly impossible not to when this guy smiles at him like that. 

“Thanks,” Soonyoung says, accepting the wine. None of your other boyfriends had ever brought round gifts before. “And don't stress about it. If it doesn't taste good, then we can always bust out the cans of beer,” he jokes, and Seokmin beams, relieved. 

You watch the entirety of the short exchange and can't help but smile, excited that maybe, this time, things will go well. 

“Well,” Soonyoung continues, and then gestures towards the living room. “Would you like to have this wine along with some snacks before we have dinner?”

───────────── ⏰

For the rest of the time that you're talking before actually having dinner, Soonyoung observes your new boyfriend like a hawk. 

Whilst he was, admittedly, briefly awestruck by how cute this Seokmin was (none of your boyfriends were ever cute: ridiculously handsome, sure, but cute was definitely new) he couldn't afford to let himself be swept away by that first impression. Your second and third boyfriends had originally been nice, after all, until they were… not. 

“So, Seokmin,” Soonyoung says in his ‘Y/N’s Boyfriends Interrogation Tone’, leaning forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you cringing in embarrassment. “What do you do for a living?”

Seokmin blinks at him from over the rim of his wine glass, round-eyed innocent as he takes a sip then beams. “I teach at the nearby elementary school! Working with kids is like daily marathon training, I swear, but they're all so cute so it makes it all worthwhile.”

Soonyoung raises his eyebrows, surprised. 

Elementary school teacher was definitely not a job he'd expected from one of your boyfriends. It wasn't a profession that really made much money, and all of your exes had been… well, rolling in cash.

“They all absolutely adore him, too,” you add, leaning forward with a smile. “You should see him with the kids. They’re literally all over him the minute he walks into the room.”

Seokmin laughs, embarrassed at the obvious admiration in your tone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m around them literally every week, so I guess it’s inevitable that they grudgingly accept me.”

“It’s not just grudging acceptance,” you say, waving a hand. “I’ve seen them! They literally love you so much.”

“You saw them for one afternoon,” Seokmin says, but he’s smiling at you, all fond. “And most of the time they were fawning over you, saying that you were so pretty and there was no way you’d date someone like me.”

That makes you laugh, evidently pleased by Seokmin’s adorable little compliment, and Soonyoung stares dumbfoundedly as the two of you continue bantering. It’s almost like he’s not there. He’s a bystander, observing from the outside whilst you smile at your boyfriend and recount that time you visited him at work (you’ve visited Seokmin’s elementary school and yet Soonyoung didn’t know he existed until a week ago?), and your eyes are practically sparkling as you look at him, and Soonyoung feels very, very astounded.

Never before has he seen you look so comfortable with someone outside the close friends you already have. It’s quite cute.

And also sucks a little, because now Soonyoung has to begrudgingly contemplate whether to move ‘Lee Seokmin’ firmly into his good books.

“Alright, okay, okay,” Soonyoung interrupts the two of you as you giggle about something that had happened with Seokmin’s students. “I see that you didn't tell me about Seokmin when you visited him at school once, but I guess I'll let it slide.”

You roll your eyes as Soonyoung takes a brief moment to pout in annoyance. “Because he and I had only just started dating, then. I didn't want you scaring him away with that terrifying face of yours.”

Soonyoung eyes you, unimpressed. “I'll have to know that this terrifying and handsome face is exactly why I keep getting hired as a choreographer again and again.”

That makes you scrunch up your face, evidently disagreeing with his statement, but you don't get to retort as Seokmin leans forward then, eyes bright and keenly fixed on Soonyoung. 

“Oh! Y/N told me you do choreos for idol groups, and teach classes,” Seokmin says. “That's so cool.”

The awe is so pure and present on his face and Soonyoung can't help but preen a little. 

“Thanks! I've worked with a few notable people, yeah, but I love teaching classes more than anything else,” Soonyoung says. “Teaching budding dancers is always so fun for me.”

Seokmin shakes his head, amazed. “I'm terrible at dancing. My kids were having a recital today—which was why I was late, and I'm so sorry about that—and I've been teaching them the dance for the past several weeks. If there's one thing I've learned from it, though, is that dancing... isn't exactly my best skill.”

He says it so dramatically, face dead-serious like it's the gravest matter in the world, and Soonyoung can't help but laugh. 

“I'm sure that's not true,” he assures, but he sees you shaking your head fervently, a smile on your face.

“No, he's actually the worst in the world” you say, and Seokmin pouts and cries out in protest. “Baby, it’s true! You and I both know it.”

“Y/N’s exaggerating,” Seokmin says, almost embarrassedly, in Soonyoung’s direction, making you laugh. You take out your phone, beginning to scroll through something. “I’m not that bad. Just a little bad.”

“I mean, anyone can get better with some training. And Y/N really does like being dramatic, so—”

You shake your head, turning your phone towards Soonyoung. There’s a video playing on your screen, taken from a darkened house party, loud music playing from the speakers. “Just look, Soonyoung. You’ll see what I mean.”

Soonyoung watches the video, which evidently turns out to showcase Seokmin’s dancing skills. The cameramanship is shoddy, and it’s obvious that it’s you recording, your barely-suppressed laughter sounding so fond as you record your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend who, genuinely, really is rather bad at dancing. In kind of a cute way. But still really, shockingly terrible.

“Well,” Soonyoung says, after a moment. “Well.”

Seokmin is still pouting. “Can I use ‘abstract dance’ as my excuse?”

Both you and Soonyoung laugh at that, and you lean over to your boyfriend to coo over him and pinch his cheeks, placating him in an adoring tone and. Even though Soonyoung should feel annoyed at the blatant affection, he can’t help but smile.

Okay, so Seokmin is cute, and a little bit funny, Soonyoung observes. His regard of this guy has gone up, just a little bit.

“You two are really adorable together,” Soonyoung admits, before clasping his hands all business-like, preparing to go back into interrogation mode. 

You beam at his comment, and look over at Seokmin proudly, who also seems a little relieved. But Soonyoung isn't quite finished. He wants just a little more information before he fully decides what his opinion of Seokmin should be.

He leans forward. “So, how long have you been dating?”

“Only about three months,” Seokmin says. Soonyoung is about to frown and comment on the short time, before Seokmin grins, all sunshine-like and takes your hand. “But we’ve known each other for a lot longer than that.”

“Seokmin used to be my neighbour, back when we were in middle school,” you say, and Soonyoung’s eyes widen comically fast. “He’s… well, he was the ‘cute neighbour boy’ that I was always telling you about.”

Soonyoung jaw drops open in an instant, feeling like he’s had the wind punched out of him at the abrupt revelation. 

‘Cute neighbour boy’ was the son of the family that had lived next door to you back when you and Soonyoung were younger, and you would arrive at school every day to tell him about the latest adorable conversation you’d had with the boy next door from over the backyard fence. Soonyoung had teased you endlessly for it, but you’d insisted it wasn’t a crush and that he was just some friendly boy who always made your evenings a little sunnier with his nonsensical, cute tales.

Soonyoung hadn’t really believed it, but ‘cute neighbour boy’ moved out of town before he could ever remind you that he wanted to meet him, and your conversations moved away from the topic after that. 

“You’re cute neighbour boy?” Soonyoung asks raspily, his voice having stopped working due to his surprise at this turn of events. “You’re—and you met him again?” he says, turning to you in amazement.

Seokmin laughs, rubbing his nose bashfully. “I was walking home after work when we met again, and I just knew Y/N on sight. I was… I kind of fell in love, all those years ago, so I was so glad that we were able to meet again.”

“Then we started talking again, became friends, started dating… and now here we are,” you say, and look over at Seokmin once more, stars in your eyes. “I’m glad I found you again.”

Seokmin visibly melts. “I’m glad I found you again, too.”

You smile, eyes crinkling, and Seokmin’s eyes crinkle in sync, fondly reaching over to pinch your cheek before his thumb smooths over your cheekbone, affectionately soft.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung swears softly to himself as he watches the way Seokmin handles you so gently, like you’re something so precious to him.

A cute, funny guy who works with kids and looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky? 

Looks like Lee Seokmin has definitely made his way into Soonyoung’s super-duper good books.

“Right,” he announces suddenly, causing the two of you to jump. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I hope you guys like roast chicken.”

Seokmin beams at him. “That sounds great! Do you mind if I use your bathroom first, though? And I’ll need to wash my hands. Dealing with kids is not the cleanest job in the world.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Soonyoung gestures to the bathroom. “Door on the left.”

Seokmin excuses himself, bowing to Soonyoung and sending another smile your way before heading out of the room. Soonyoung watches the way you watch him go, looking at him like he’s the reason the world still spins every single day.

God, you’re so in love. But, Soonyoung has to admit, he kind of sees why.

You finally turn to look at your best friend once Seokmin has left the room, eyes sparkling.

“So,” you say, the anticipation. “What do you think?”

Soonyoung can’t hold his polite and put-together facade any longer.

“Holy shit,” he bursts out, and you laugh, delighted. “Y/N, where did you find him?”

You grin, the relief and love clear in your face as you shrug teasingly. “Just out and about. Why? You jealous?”

“Very,” Soonyoung groans. “Wow. I never thought someone like that even existed, let alone that it’d be my best friend who ends up bagging them.”

“What can I say? I have excellent taste,” you say. 

Soonyoung shakes his head, amazed. He can’t even argue with you anymore. Seokmin is the epitome of boyfriend material. He’s just the most incredible guy in the world.

And that makes him utterly perfect for you.

He furrows his brows, thinking deeply, before suddenly lurching forward and holding you by the shoulders. Soonyoung looks you dead in the eye, serious.

"Y/N. Can I date your boyfriend too?"

That makes you splutter out a laugh, shoving him off. "What the— no! Get your own boyfriend!"

Soonyoung whines, but he's smiling, and you can't help but smile too, because all of this is Soonyoung being his lighthearted, teasing self, which is just proof that he approves, that he thinks Seokmin is good enough for you, and it makes your heart feel light. 

He edges closer to you again, nudging you in the side. "Okay, but seriously, if I asked him... do you think he'd let me—?"

You smack his face away, laughing. "Hey. Back off. Seokmin’s mine."

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[ragingbookdragon]

If All Of The Kings Had Their Queens On The Throne

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language, Slight Angst, Mature Themes

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of the previous fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

When the door to The Haunt didn’t immediately open, she frowned and clicked the button. “Hey! Lemme in!”

For a moment, there was nothing, then she heard, “Apologies Miss Wayne. Ghost-Maker is busy training. Shall I alert him?”

She sighed. “Nah, just let me in and I’ll get him.”

“Of course.”

The doors split open, and she walked into the base, immediately rolling her eyes at the colors, or better yet the lack of color at all. She had no idea what spurred him to pick white as one of the main colors in everything he wore and used, but God if it didn’t make him look like a psychopath. A snort passed her lips at her little joke, and she wandered around the desk setup and through one of the curtained areas until she heard boxing gloves meeting a punching bag.

Gently tugging the curtain aside, she paused, leaning against the doorway, and watched his back. He was shirtless and had headphones in, as he usually was and did when he trained alone, and his muscles rippled each time he threw a powerful strike. She couldn’t help but watch him; he’d always been so diligent when it came to his training, and if she hadn’t known him better than she did, she would’ve assumed all he did was train. She was very fond of it though. Very fond of him.

“You going to stand there or are you going to get a set of gloves and spar with me?”

She shook herself from her thoughts to see him rounding the bag, throwing a devastating kick; she snorted. “No thanks, Ghost. I just got over having a cracked skull.” Walking over, she neared the space, but stayed just far enough that she wouldn’t get struck.

“I’m actually here to invite you over to the manor tonight.” She said, watching as his eyes flitted to hers behind the mask. “I take it you know.”

“About the little pool party Bruce throws for everyone? Yes. I keep hearing about it over the Ghost-Net.”

She smiled. “It’s a lot of fun, Ghost. You’d have fun.”

He scoffed. “What? Being surrounded by every single hero this side of the galaxy? No thank you, (Y/N). I’d rather not.”

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the punching bag and held it, looking at him. “You’re not going to make any friends if you spend all your time cooped up in here.”

“I’m not looking to make friends,” he retorted, throwing another punch that sent shock-waves through her arms to her core. “I’m here to clean up Gotham.”

(Y/N) gazed at him. “Sure I can’t persuade you?”

“Positive.”

She shrugged. “Then you leave me no choice.” Leveling him with a strong expression, she warned, “As the newest member of the Batfamily, you have to attend the pool party. It’s tradition and anyone who doesn’t, has to take patrol routes for everyone for a month straight.”

Ghost-Maker stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. “You’re lying.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath dramatically, “Ghost, I never lie.” She looked to the ceiling. “Icon, run the conversations from my phone named, ‘Bat-Chat’ and tell him I’m not lying.”

After a moment, the AI’s voice came over, clear and positive. “Miss Wayne is correct, sir. Record texts have shown that those who do not attend the parties thrown by the family for the other superheroes are subject to various torture techniques.”

“What!” (Y/N) shouted. “No, we don’t!”

“You said on June eighth that your brother Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be swirlied for missing the party.”

She sputtered. “I was joking! We don’t swirly each other. We just force our patrol routes on each other.” (Y/N) glanced at Ghost-Maker. “If you don’t come, you’re going to take patrol from me, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Duke, and Damian. You really wanna patrol all month by yourself? All that territory? Think of the time and energy it’ll take, Ghost.”

Ghost-Maker stared her down for a minute, mulling over his choices, then he finally sighed, resigned to his fate. “Fine. I’ll come over tonight.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Nope, you gotta get ready now. We’re arriving together.”

“You annoy me.” He griped, bypassing her to the doorway, and she followed him towards the stairs and to his bedroom where he entered the bathroom and got in the shower. She waited on the bed, gazing around his room while he showered.

“Who all is attending this party? That you know for sure.”

(Y/N) blinked, taking a moment to think. “Uh, all of the Justice League, the Titans and Teen Titans, the Outlaws, a few Green Lanterns…and probably a few anti-heroes but we’ll see.” She shrugged. “So pretty much everyone we interact with on a normal basis.”

“I heard Harley is coming too.”

“Yeah, she’s technically part of the family at this point.” (Y/N) said. “She’d be upset if we didn’t invite her over.”

Ghost-Maker stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and she stood from the bed, wandering in behind him as he lathered his face in shaving cream.

“Trying to show out in front of everyone, Ghost?” she joked, leaving back against the door-frame of the small cabinet behind them.

“Bruce doesn’t keep himself kempt all the time. I do,” he remarked, flicking out the straight razor; he raised it to his jaw, and she hummed warningly, causing his brown eyes to meet hers in the mirror. “What?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’m just worried you’ll cut yourself.”

“I’ve been shaving my face since I was fifteen, (Y/N).”

“So that scar on your cheekbone isn’t from cutting yourself?”

He gazed at her. “You know why I have that scar.”

“I do.” She answered, then leaned away from the wall, shifting until she was sitting on the bathroom counter in front of him. Taking the razor, she tilted his chin up and carefully, scraped it down his cheek before rinsing it. “I gave it to you when you called me a coward.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to hit me that hard.” Ghost-Maker replied, coffee eyes focused on her face; she felt exposed under his knowing gaze.

She chuckled. “I think that was the first time I really surprised you that I wasn’t just my brother’s twin sister following him around to make sure he was safe.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking you were. You never joined in the training.”

“I learned better watching then doing.” (Y/N) rinsed the razor and tipped his head back as she drug the instrument down the exposed skin of his throat. “Most people are fearful when someone holds a razor to their neck,” she murmured, carefully shaving his Adam’s apple.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Her hands stilled ever so slightly as she gaped at him. Normally he would’ve said, “I don’t feel fear” but now he said he wasn’t afraid of her. She wanted to hope it was because of what had occurred the last month, her confessing her feelings, him replying that he couldn’t love her like she did him—he’d not totally ruled out caring for her, at least that’s what she saw his words being. They’d not talked about it more than that night, merely going back to work, but she could tell that Ghost-Maker’s demeanor towards her had changed a minute amount. He watched her more. Was…softer with her.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” She rinsed the razor and looked over his face for a moment, then she grabbed the towel and wet it, gently brushing over the shaving cream still on his face. Patting his face dry, she nodded. “Looks good. No nicks.”

“Thank you,” he approved, but didn’t move, keeping his eyes on her and she couldn’t help but look down, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

Her eyes widened when she saw the expanse of his chest though and she reached up, fingers delicately tracing a jagged and raised scar in the middle of his chest. Even healed it looked angry and a bolt of sadness hit her in the heart.

“You’re sad.” He noted. For a psychopath who didn’t feel empathy, he was actually good at discerning when people felt sad—or maybe it was just because he’d known her so long.

(Y/N) nodded, whispering, “There aren’t many scars on mine and Bruce’s bodies that look like this one.” Her fingers moved to one on the right side of his ribs and she frowned. “We’ve always had someone to stitch us up, or we did it for one another. But I can’t help but wonder…” her eyes met his. “Who did it for you? Who stitched the ones you couldn’t reach and do yourself?”

Her chest hurt. “Who was there for you when I wasn’t?” she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the center of his chest. He was so warm, and she sighed, willing herself to not tear up. “I’m sorry, K.”

“For what?” he questioned, a hand coming up behind her, palm resting against the back of her neck.

“For leaving you behind,” (Y/N) answered, deciding then to wrap her arms around his waist, turning her face so her cheek rested to his chest. “I should’ve stayed with you.”

Ghost-Maker made a noise in his throat, and she wasn’t sure if it was agreement or bitterness. “And if you had, you wouldn’t have raised your family.”

She sighed. “Yeah…I know…but even during that time I couldn’t help but wonder how your journey was going. How you and your tech were evolving throughout the years.” (Y/N) pulled back slightly and looked at him. “I used to imagine what it’d be like to be there with you. To fight beside you. To live out your dream with you.”

His hand shifted from the back of her neck to cup her cheek and he tilted her head up, leaning down to kiss her. She closed her eyes, arms shifting from around his waist to wrap around his neck and his free hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him. Ghost-Maker shifted, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw as his fingers dipped under her thigh, pulling it up until (Y/N) got the hint to cock it around his hip.

“K,” she breathed as he sunk his teeth into her neck, biting hard enough that it had her inhaling sharply, fingers twisting in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him smile against her skin.

“What do you want?” he asked, pressing surprisingly gentle kisses to where he’d bit as the hand that was on her cheek lowered to push up the blouse that stopped at her waist. His fingers dipped underneath, rubbing against her skin and he asked again, this time firmer, “(Y/N), what do you want?”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she could barely think, could barely form words. “I—”

A shrill beeping startled the two of them, well, her more than him, and she finally got herself to breathe. “That’s Bruce calling.” She uncurled one of her hands from his neck to reach for the phone in her pocket, but he caught it.

“Call him back.” Ghost-Maker said, grabbing a fistful of her blouse, starting to pull up.

(Y/N) shrugged his hand off. “If Bruce’s calling, it means he needs my help.” He pulled away and giving her a look, one she met firmly. “I need to take it.”

They gazed at each other for a moment and then he harrumphed, pulling away from her, and walked from the bathroom to his closest.

She sighed and pulled out her phone, answering it. “Hello?”

Are you on your way yet? The party’s already started and everyone’s asking where you both are.

Clearing her throat, she replied, “Yeah, he’s getting his swim trunks.” She glanced out the doorway. “You own trunks, don’t you, Ghost?”

“Do I somehow give you the impression that I’m incompetent?” he shot back, and she rolled her eyes.

“Ass.” She put the phone back to her ear. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”

Be careful. Love you.

“We will. And I love you too.” She ended the call and hopped off the bathroom counter, flicking off the lights as she walked out, seeing him throwing a bag over his shoulder.

“I’m ready to be bored out of my mind.” He grunted and she rolled her eyes again.

“Oh, shut up. You’re going to have a great time. I promise.”

Ghost-Maker glared at her as he pulled the white and black mask over his eyes and nose. “And how do you know?”

(Y/N) grinned, shoving him in the stomach as she walked past him. “Because I’m going to be there all night.”

***

“See!” she chirped as he sunk into the hot tub. “This isn’t so bad.” She handed him a drink. “Free drinks, laughter, and swimming. Fun, huh?”

He grunted, sipping the margarita she’d given him. “Your family and their friends are loud.”

(Y/N) looked over his head towards the other pool, grinning as her eldest nephew threw her youngest into the pool, then turned and threw his best friend. Laughter peeled from the entire group in the pool.

“Yeah…but that’s how you know they’re having a good time.” Her eyes drifted to Bruce who was fondly watching Jason and Roy grill, occasionally laughing as one of them told a joke. “Feelin’ good, Bruce?”

He took a sip of his brandy, sinking until his shoulders were covered by the running hot water. “Feeling great, (Y/N).” he held out his drink. “Put some ice in there? Please?”

She smiled and pulled her legs out of the hot tub, and really, it wasn’t exactly a hot tub because most were above ground, but Bruce being who he was, had redesigned it so that it and the pool were both in ground and connected.

Taking his glass, she rose and wandered over to the bar where a few of her friends were pouring drinks and chatting. “Hey Clark. Diana. How are you both tonight?”

Diana smiled and raised her wine glass. “I am well, (Y/N). How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” She said. “Clark, put an ice cube in here, would you?”

He did as she asked and dropped one in with the tongs. “I’m still surprised you got Ghost-Maker here. I assumed he wasn’t going to come.”

Her eyes flicked back over to the hot tub, and she watched Bruce tip his head back as he laughed, Ghost-Maker chuckling too; she smiled. “He’d never admit it, but he’s glad he came tonight. Anti-social as he usually is, he likes being included in things.” (Y/N) smiled at them and winked, walking back over.

She took her seat back on the side in the middle between Bruce and Ghost-Maker, handing her brother his brandy. “Clark licked all over the rim of your glass, Bruce. Just letting you know.” Feeling particularly childish, Bruce raised the glass to his lips and licked all around the glass. “You’re a child.” She remarked, then glanced to her side, seeing one of the Green Lanterns coming down the way.

“Kyle!” she greeted. “Join the fray!”

The artist smiled, then looked at the men in the hot tub. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said, and Bruce waved.

“Come on in.”

(Y/N) patted the wall between her legs and Kyle walked down the steps, shifting until his back pressed against the wall and she dropped her legs over his shoulders, fingers carding in his hair. “How’s it been going on Oa?”

He shrugged, sipping his beer. “It’s good. Can’t complain too much about saving the universe.”

She smirked. “Uh huh…and what’s this about you and Soranik?”

Kyle choked a bit on his beer, coughing slightly as she giggled. “It’s uh—complicated.” He tipped his head back, resting on her thighs so he could look up at her. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

(Y/N) sighed wistfully, combing back his hair. “Ain’t nothing changin’ but the weather…and the usual telling off the men in front of you for continually betting each other who can do the more stupid shit.”

At that, Kyle’s head tipped up and he first looked at Bruce, then to Ghost-Maker who merely drank from his margarita. “Uh…who’s that?” he asked quietly, and she snorted.

“Kyle, this is Ghost-Maker. Ghost, this is Kyle Rayner, the torch bearing Green Lantern.” She smushed his cheeks. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Ghost-Maker gave her an amused puff. “He is handsome, I’ll give you that.”

Kyle was glad the water had already flushed his skin because the way the man had flirted had made his cheeks warm. “Thank you.” He glanced back at her. “Is his name…?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he takes anonymity to a whole new level.” She tugged at a strand of his hair. “Did you know that only me, Bruce, and a few others know what he looks like and what his entire name is?”

He blinked in response. “That’s…hardcore secret identity, right there.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have any friends.” (Y/N) shot Ghost-Maker a grin. “But you can call him Ghost for short. It’s easier than the mouthful of Ghost-Maker.” The vigilante in return merely rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. “So, Kyle, have any new graphic novels in the works?”

“I do actually. Haven’t written them down but here’s an idea.” He brought up his hand out of the water and a green flash appeared in everyone’s vision. “See how you like it so far?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh in disbelief. “This is so cool.” She grabbed the construct comic book and flipped through it. “Who’s the main?”

“Haven’t named her yet. But she’s a transgender, pansexual Native American who solves crimes as a superhero.” His cheeks flushed. “I know it’s ironic because we’re superheroes, but I couldn’t help it, you know?”

She nodded, seemingly impressed. “Figured out which tribe yet?”

“I was thinking possibly Cherokee. Or Mohawk.”

“I’ve got a MTF Kanienʼkehá꞉ka friend who lives in Quebec.” She said. “I’ll give her a call about working with you on this.”

Kyle lit up like the morning sun. “Really, (Y/N)? You’d do that?”

She looked down at him and shifted her thighs a bit, bumping his head. “Of course. You’re one of my best friends.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he grinned, and she chuckled.

“I love you too, loser.”

Suddenly the speakers thumped, and her head shot up, looking towards Tim and Bart who were giggling. She pointed at them. “HEY! THIS IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG!”

They merely giggled more and suddenly everyone was singing along to the raunchy song, well, the teens and young adults were but not her and the older people.

(Y/N) shoved Kyle off as she got up and ran towards the speakers. “WAP IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG TO PLAY AT A POOL PARTY! THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT! TIMOTHY JACKSON, YOU GET BACK HERE WITH THAT IPHONE! TURN IT OFF!”

***

She smiled sweetly at her family and friends passed out in the living room, pillows and blankets thrown everywhere, arms slung over bodies, heads on stomachs and backs. It was nice to see them all so comfortable with each other, so tightly knit; it reminded her of a better time.

Most of the adults had gone home though some had stayed in extra rooms. She was sure that her brother and him had gone down to the cave to have it out just for the hell of it, but she was rather tired and decided to call it a night—though it was actually one am.

Closing the door behind her, she didn’t bother to go shower, planning to do it in the morning as she started stripping. First went the swimsuit cover, then the top and bottoms. She kicked her flip-flops off into the corner of the room and stretched her arms above her head, a quiet groan passing her lips as her joints and bones popped.

As she lowered her hands, a hand clamped around her mouth and another wound around her waist, tugging her back and she gasped against their palm, starting to struggle when she heard them chuckle. The sound, combined with the familiar smell of sandalwood wafting up her nose told her who it was, and they smiled against her ear. “Worried?”

She reached up and yanked his hand from her mouth, hissing, “You’re lucky I didn’t turn around and punch the shit out of you, K.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind her ear and she shivered against his chest.

“What are you doing in here? I thought you and Bruce went to go spar?”

Ghost-Maker hummed, the hand around her waist starting to squeeze the flesh of her side. “We did. He said he was tired and went to bed.”

“And you didn’t go home?” her voice kicked up a notch when his other hand slipped from her grip and slid down her front.

“I didn’t want to go home.” He pressed his front against her rear and she gasped, one of her hands coming back to grab at his thigh, digging her nails in to keep him there. He smirked as she ground back against him. “Seems like you don’t want me going home either.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “Something’s up with you tonight. You’re being a lot more…passionate than usual.”

He nipped at her neck, fingers delicately dancing over her abdomen. “I don’t like that Green Lantern friend of yours.”

“Who? Kyle?” she questioned confusedly. “Why?”

“He’s very free with himself towards you.”

At that, it was crystal clear, and she spun in his arms, looking at him, though she had to strain to see his face. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” He griped, though the way his jaw set, told her the truth.

“You are!” she laughed. “You’re jealous that I’m close with other men. That’s adorable.”

Ghost-Maker stared at her for a split moment, then he bent down and grabbed her legs, throwing her over his shoulder. (Y/N)’s gasp turned into a laugh as he marched towards the bed and tossed her onto it, watching as she rolled onto her back and laughed some more at him.

“God, you’re green, K.” she giggled, watching with hooded eyes as he shucked the swim trunks down to his feet and crawled onto the bed.

“I’m not envious of a glow-stick who’s never gotten this far with you.” He countered, grabbing her ankles; he yanked her down the bed and underneath him and she gazed up at him.

“Do you wanna know how many men have gotten this far with me?” (Y/N) challenged and Ghost-Maker stared into her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how many because once I’m done with you, you won’t remember anyone but me.” He lowered his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, trailing downwards and she panted in anticipation when,

CRASH!

They started, and this time, he did too, both turning to the door, then to each other.

“What the hell—”

“OH SHIT! SOMEONE PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

(Y/N) grunted. “Oh my God, what did they do?”

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE! OH MY GOD SOMEONE CALL NINE-ONE-ONE! OR THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!”

“AUNT (Y/N)! DAD!”

She rolled out from underneath Ghost-Maker, ignoring his grabbing for her and she hurried to her door, yanking the bathrobe from the hook on the back. Slinging it on, she turned and pointed at the man. “Once I’m done out here, I’m coming back and you’re not going anywhere for a few hours.”

He smirked as he collapsed onto his back, taking himself in his hand. She almost burst into flames at the sight, and he purred, “You might wish to hurry, (Y/N). Wouldn’t want to miss anything.” His words tipped into a groan as his hand shifted along himself, and she scowled at him as she pulled the door open, his erotic frame illuminating in the hall light.

“You’d better watch it, K. We both know how mean I can get when I miss out.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! reading your blog has become a sort of guilty pleasure for me. Thanks for everything, it’s so clear that you put a lot of time and energy into your content. I was wondering if you have any johnlock fics that feature a particularly well-written or memorable original character? I always love to see how authors integrate their own character creations into johnlock stories!

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhh!! This is a GREAT request, because I like well-written OC’s in fics, so yeah, this is a great list to make. Here’s what I recall from my bookmarks. Please add your own faves, friends!

MEMORABLE ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock's in love, or in lust, or both--unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John's been invited to a wedding--unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he's honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock's got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w., 1 Ch. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, POV John, Embarrassed John, Adorable Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you're coiled like a spring and ready to be ... sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don't mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

Matters of National Security by mistyzeo (E, 8,465 w., 1 Ch. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Jealous Sherlock, Dating, Bisexuality, Arguing, Stupidity, Teasing, First Kiss/Time, Hand Jobs, Frottage, RST, Idiots in Love) – John starts dating a male client of Sherlock's, and Sherlock can't figure out why he's so incensed about it.

High Tide by stardust_made (T, 8,540 w., 1 Ch. || Jealousy, Angst, First Kiss) – A little favour Sherlock stupidly agrees to do for Mycroft leads to John meeting a handsome, affluent man, who is going out of his way to woo him. Sherlock struggles with the situation and with his own reactions to it. Part 1 of The High Tide Series

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w., 1 Ch. || Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock's perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua (M, 12,757 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, POV John, Phone Sex, Texting, Masturbation, Long Distance, Drunk Texting) – What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once: Flirting. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there. He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

Vessel by Rhuia (E, 15,695 w., 1 Ch. || Cancer, Medfic) – That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w., 1 Ch. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John, Past Abuse, Insecure John, Reassuring / Caring Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Understanding Sherlock) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w., 4 Ch. || Post-TRF, John has a Kid, Angst, Reunion, Falling in Love, Open Ending) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Maintaining A Personal Life by Gingerhermit (E, 24,284 w., 6 Ch. || Alternating POV’s, Bisexuality, BAMF!John, Jealous Sherlock, Romance / Drama, Sort-of Case Fic, Peril & Angst, Love Confessions, Toplock, Soft Idiots in Love, Post S3) – Sherlock and John discover some interesting revelations about each other’s sexuality, which lead them both to question the assumptions they've made about one another for years. In the midst of their mutual discoveries, a dangerous psychopath looms on the side-lines who threatens to destroy their new beginning.

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can't help but wonder if he's imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn't getting cold feet about the wedding... Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst, Promise of Forever) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Albion and the Woodsman by Glenmore (NR [E], 54,437 w., 50 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst, Family, Drug Use, Depression, Sherlock POV, Light Humour, Reconnecting, Declarations of Love) – Sherlock and John are devastated after Mary Morstan makes her final moves. Sherlock relapses at the crack house, John walks around the world … and a lot happens in between. Parentlock, in the good way.

Wars We Fought, Things We're Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w., 10 Ch. || Post S3 / Post TAB, Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST/URT, 3G, Mild Peril, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case, Protective Mycroft, Infant Death Pre-Story, Friends to Lovers) –  Five months after John's world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Great Sex Olympics of 221B by XistentialAngst (E, 58,611 w., 10 Ch. || First Time/Kiss, Experiments / Sexual Experimentations, Multi Pairings, Voyeurism) – John Watson thinks Sherlock Holmes should admit that he, Watson, is more of an expert on sex than Sherlock is. But Sherlock refuses to concede the point. He comes up with an experiment plan that will resolve the issue. The results will determine who wins the prize. But sometimes even the best thought-out scientific study has unexpected consequences.

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Secrets and Revelations by Hisstah (E, 83,535 w., 9 Ch. || Sentinel / Guides Omegaverse AU || Adventure, Violence, Anal / Oral, Omega!John / Alpha!Sherlock, Case Fic, Politics, Mild DubCon) – Dr John Watson has some major secrets that he's kept from his flatmate, Alpha Sentinel Sherlock Holmes. Now the Sentinel Tower is after him. Can John stay out of their hands until he can reveal his secrets to Sherlock? Part 1 of Secrets and Revelations

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w., 71 Ch. || Future AU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w., 21 Ch. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

The Swan Triad Series by Pennin_Ink (T, 121,660 w. across 3 works || Swan Lake AU || Magical / Fairy Tale AU, Romance, Falling in Love, Pining, Psychological Torture, Transformation) – Sherlock and John grow up spending every summer together. Their mothers' attempts to play matchmaker only fuel their mutual resentment and scorn. But then, one summer.

Colors by Quesarasara (E, 140,537 w., 17 Ch. || Pleasantville-Inspired AU || Soulmates, Colour Bonds, Alternating POV, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Case Fic, Medical Procedures) – Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys. When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color. We're all searching for the person who brings color to our lives. John and Sherlock are no exception. Part 1 of The Colors 'Verse

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton  (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own. (SC’s version of Sherrinford may as well be an OC; he’s well written and different from Canon)

Sketchy by serpentynka (E, 184,053 w., 83 Ch. || Post-TRF, Post-Mary, John Whump, Slow Burn Love Story, Case Fic, Art, Porn With Feelings, Switchlock, Travelling, Career Change, Family Secrets, Illness / Health) – What (and who) will be left when nobody cares about your Work? A slow-burn fic with cases, places, mistaken identities, unfair choices, essential changes, violent feels, blatant lies, fearless portraiture, family secrets, high-risk bespoke gifts, durable friendships, bedtime stories, foreign travel and tongues, sickness (and health), and the significance of things which are slow to unfurl -- but cannot be ignored. Oh, and...porn. Part 1: Sherlock takes on an obvious case (barely a 4) and meets someone who will force him to re-examine what it means to see. Part 1 of Sketchy

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (E, 326,887 w., 31 Ch. || Omegaverse || Omega Sherlock / Alpha John, Friends to Lovers, Dub Con, Reproductive Rights) – In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through. Wasn't he? A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Could you talk about the Statute of Secrecy? Or the Ministry’s corruption in General :)

Well, those are two different things. Given that I believe I have an ask floating somewhere in my inbox on the Statute, I suppose we’ll talk about the Ministry of Magic today.

I feel like this is such a broad topic though that I’m not quite sure where to start. I guess I’ll just throw spaghetti at the internet wall and see what sticks.

The Ministry is a Reflection of Society Who Never Admitted They Were the Death Eaters

In the ministry of Harry Potter’s era the Ministry is hopelessly corrupt and filled to the brim with spies (more on this in a later section). Lucius Malfoy, very high up in an unofficial capacity in the Ministry and owner of the Ministry’s mouth piece: The Daily Prophet, was a known Death Eater with a very flimsy excuse.

How is he even able to wield so much influence, you ask? Well, I think it’s not just because of Fudge picking the wrong friends.

I think most the population probably does believe Lucius Malfoy is innocent the way Fudge does. I think it’s a very small subsection, i.e. Dumbledore’s lackies, who go “Nah, ain’t buying it.” I think that, in 1981, when it came time to reveal just how many were Death Eaters and how far this went many people just couldn’t handle it.

Because it was to the point where the nation wasn’t battling Death Eaters, Death Eaters were the nation. Look at the members, these are and were the most influential and prominent families in the country, who combined hold a non-small minority of seats in the Wizengamot. More, these were only the participants, combine those who given anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment (which I believe are pervasive even among those who claim they fight for the rights of muggles and muggleborns) and you get a nation that is suddenly facing a huge cultural issue that was never previously acknowledged.

We’re talking an entire purge of the Wizengamot, of the Ministry, of the major families and cornerstones of this society. The Black family is completely and utterly destroyed.

People were and remain throughout the 1990′s, desperate to believe it was not as bad as it was or isn’t as bad as it is. If Lucius Malfoy says he was never really a Death Eater then he was never really a Death Eater.

The Ministry is Lousy With Corruption and Spies

What’s hilarious to me is not only is the Ministry incompetent. It is positively flooded with spies. Given the ministry’s overbloated, it’s not even a sizeable minority of employees, but nonetheless every major department has at least one person (if not more) who works for somebody else.

Most work for Tom Riddle. He seems to have intelligence in every department. Through Lucius, who is working pretty much as an unofficial aide to Fudge, he has access to Fudge, complete control of the Daily Prophet, and a voice on the Hogwarts’ board of governors.

Through Rockwood, Tom has direct access to the Department of Mysteries which Lucius is then able to take full advantage of.

Lucius is able to set up an ambush in the Department of Mysteries, getting escaped convicts into the building with the none the wiser, and, had his sole purpose not been a prophecy that only Harry Potter and the Dark Lord can touch, he would have been able to take what he liked. (Though it was always odd to me that the plan was to get Harry Potter to do it, when the better solution would have been to polyjuice Tom Riddle into someone else, set up a tour with the department, and then Tom wanders off conveniently to pick up the prophecy. My theory, I suppose, is that chasing after the prophecy was mostly an exercise in punishing Lucius. And then Lucius fucked up.)

And of course, in book seven, Tom Riddle makes a puppet minister. Point being, to me, it always said a lot that in Book Seven Tom just sort of walks into the building and says, “I’m in charge now” and everyone says “okay”. There was no second Wizarding War, it was a bloodless coup that met zero resistance from anyone but angry school children. 

But that’s Tom’s spies, we also have other spies. Who am I talking about, Dumbledore’s folks of course.

Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley are all spies, they just don’t have the introspection to even realize it (which really tells you something about the state of corruption in the ministry). They all work for the ministry, yes, but they in fact pass on information to and serve another master, whose goals do not always align with the government and was a hop skip and a jump away from overthrowing the government at any given moment.

And they don’t even really realize they’re doing this! There doesn’t even seem to be a thought of “I’m doing this for the greater good”, they don’t seem to acknowledge that what they’re doing is very very very bad. Arthur, in fact, is appalled when Percy refuses to do this (well, he’s upset for a lot of reasons, such as that he thinks Percy is spying on Arthur for the minister, but in there is also that Percy refuses to help out with the Order or follow Dumbledore without question). 

Harry paints the Dumbledore’s Army threat that Umbridge saw as something utterly ridiculous, but honestly if I was the ministry I would be worried about this. Dumbledore’s people have infiltrated the ministry just as deeply and badly as the Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s known for recruiting children into his vigilante organization, I don’t know what he’s doing with an army of schoolchildren but I can smell a coup coming.

Anyway, I’m getting off track, point being though that corruption is not only expected and accepted by the ministry, they cannot recognize what it even is. They’re at the point where paying bribes is allocated in their budget.

I Don’t Blame the Ministry For Not Thinking Tom Riddle Was Anti-Jesus

Fudge is designed to get a lot of flack for his outright denial that Voldemort had returned from the dead. He, and other denier characters, are meant to be fools with their heads in the sand who can’t see the obvious.

I ask what about it was obvious?

The only witness to Tom Riddle’s resurrection, Harry Potter, has a known history of erratic behavior.

The previous year, he’d performed illegal magic on his muggle aunt and run away from home. During the previous school year, Harry was revealed to be a parselmouth in a time when the Chamber of Secrets was presumably opened and the mystery was never fully solved (remember, that it was a possessed Ginny never comes to light for more than a few people.) Beyond that, since his first day of school, Harry is routinely in and out of detention, constantly out after curfew, and only seems to not be in serious trouble because he’s openly favored by Dumbledore (who gives him hundreds of points for breaking one of his school rules, during the Philosopher’s Stone fiasco in first year). In 1994, Harry is entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament under very suspicious circumstances.

We know why all this happens to Harry but from the outside he looks like a delinquent. In fact, he kind of is a delinquent. 

Point being, the only witness is not only Harry Potter (who is already sketch) but it’s Harry Potter holding a dead body of a rival in the tournament.

And he’s claiming that a man who has been nearly fifteen years dead, a man who held the nation in terror and Harry Potter is beloved for destroying, has returned from the grave and conveniently murdered Cedric.

Why is Cedric dead? Well, you see, he and Harry both touched the goblet at the same time because they were going to share the reward. The goblet, a national treasure, was turned into a portkey so that Voldemort could kidnap him.

Why didn’t Voldemort just kidnap him at any other point during the year where he’s guaranteed not to get tag a longs or the wrong kid? Uh... VOLDEMORT IS BACK (for the record, I think it’s because Barty got hung up on the goblet scheme and was determined to ruin his father’s day.)

Where is Voldemort at this very moment? Being evil, somewhere, that is not right here. No, Harry has zero evidence this happened.

Frankly, I wouldn’t believe Harry either.

And when Dumbledore goes about promoting this as sound evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned, it starts to get even sketchier. Rather than sounding the alarm, Dumbledore is using this boy’s madness to stir the public into a panic that he, perhaps, plans to take advantage of.

After Dumbledore does that, I would suspect that, even if Harry does give me a memory of the graveyard scene that his head had been tampered with by Dumbledore.

And it’s so convenient that, of all the names Harry picked, it’s Voldemort who killed Cedric. It seems like a ploy to not only deflect the fact that he murdered Cedric but 

Harry’s very upset when some don’t take him at his word but Harry’s also a dumbass and a psychopath. He hates everyone who doesn’t agree with him.

More importantly, necromancy isn’t a thing in the Harry Potter universe. People don’t rise from the dead. Horcruxes exist, but they’re extremely rare, and it seems like no one ever really makes use of them.

So, yeah, not unreasonable that Fudge didn’t immediately go, “My god, Voldemort has risen from the dead! LIGHT THE BEACONS AND SUMMON ROHAN!”

So yeah, it’d take me seeing Voldemort waltzing through the Department Mysteries to go “... Goddammit, this man is more unkillable than Sheev Palpatine.”

After the Epilogue, I am Certain It’s Still the Same Damn Ministry

People hate the epilogue, but in a way, I love it, because it confirms many of my headcanons: these people don’t learn a goddamn thing.

Nothing in their society seems to have changed. Instead of one set of families holding all the power it’s now a new set of families and friends holding all the power. The difference being that they are now all in some way connected to Harry Potter.

Nepotism’s still the name of the game, we still see only human children boarding the Hogwarts Express so you know shit hasn’t changed for the goblins, Draco Malfoy’s alive and well and holds a position in the Ministry that Kingsly graciously allows him to have, it’s just now you have Hermione writing all your laws for you.

The Wizarding World is still the Wizarding World in every single capacity. The only difference is that Voldemort is dead again. Hooray.

Harry and friends simply don’t have the introspection to even realize it.

[anxiousstark]

S1 06 | Co-Captain

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2091

Warnings: Mentions drugs, child abuse, swearing (always).

A/N: I’m sorry but this is a filler chapter, an IMPORTANT one. Y/N’s past start coming back, her mom’s story is quite significant, and the mention of his dad. NEXT WEEK WE FINISH SEASON 1! THINGS START GETTING FCKING INTERESTING!

Scott had told us last night what happened to him. Peter and Derek had gone to the changing rooms, searching for him. Peter had shown him what happened to the Hale family. It was a truly sad story. Stiles told him what happened in the hospital, including what I did. But he hadn't told him that while Peter was showing him his past, I was shaking in Stiles's bedroom while he searched what creature I could be.

"What's up?" Stiles stopped the jeep next to Jackson and his car. He was accompanied by Chris Argent, someone who looked like an asshole. He was.

"Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Scott. Your friend, here, was having car trouble. We're just taking a look." He replied with a smile on his face. His blue eyes weren't warm, they were cold, transmitting uneasiness.

"There's a shop right down the street. I'm sure they have a tow truck." Scott pointed down the street. I just silently sat on the back of the jeep, observing Chris.

"Yeah. You want a ride?" Scott opened the door while Chris turned his face to look at Jackson. "Hey, come on, Jackson. You're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself." Jackson started walking towards us, and Scott came out of the car to let him in.

"Hey, boys." He turned the engine of the car on, it was working. "Told you I knew a few things about cars." Then, he went back to his car, driving away.

"What, are you following me, now?" Stiles got out of the car while I decided to stay inside, rolling the window down so I could hear them better.

"Yes, you stupid freaking idiot. You almost gave away everything, right there." Scott started screaming. Seems like his 'anger issues' were still there.

"What are you talking about?"

"He thinks you're the second beta."

"What?"

"He thinks you're me!" Scott grunted, punching Stiles's jeep. Uh oh, he touched his baby.

"Dude, my jeep."

Scott ignored his best friend and continued speaking his mind to Jackson. "I can hear your heart beating from a mile away, literally! Now he thinks that there's something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you too!"

He turned to the jeep again, to hit it. But Stiles stopped him. "Okay, how about we step away from Stiles's Jeep?"

"This is your problem, not mine, okay? I didn't say anything, which means you're the one that's gonna get me killed. Okay, this is your fault." Jackson couldn't control his temper, pushing Scott against the jeep, making it tumble a little. I decided to go out, standing next to the owner of the said jeep.

"Can we stop hitting my jeep?" Scott pushed Jackson away from him. "Yo, all right, yo, guys, stop. All right?"

"When they come after you, I won't be able to protect you." His gaze landed on his best friend. "I can't protect anyone."

"Why are you looking at me?" I put my hand on his back, rubbing it to help him calm down. He had concluded that Scott couldn't protect him if he didn't have the power.

"You know, now you have to do it. Get me what I want, and I will be fine protecting myself."

"No, you won't! Just trust me. All it does is make things worse." His eyes were desperate, but Jackson didn't seem to care. "Yeah, I can run really fast now. Except half the time, I'm running away from people trying to kill me! And I can hear things like - like my girlfriend telling people that she doesn't trust me anymore right before breaking up with me. I'm not lying to you! It ruins your life."

"It ruined your life." He smiled wickedly. "You had all the power in the world, and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned 16, and someone bought you a Porsche when they should have started you out with a nice little Honda. Me? I drive a Porsche." He turned around, determined to go back to his so-loved car.

"You aren't a werewolf." I decided to speak for the first time that day. Jackson stopped on his track. "You are something. I don't know what, but you are something." I choked, it was Stiles's turn to rub my back. I wasn't human anymore, and I hadn't had enough time to sit down and talk about it with someone. "And I am too." I stepped in front of the other two boys. "You were there that night." I simpered. "Do you remember that day at school? You asked me if my wound was hurting, you told me you felt different, that you weren't the same Jackson anymore." He turned around to look at me, jaw clenched. "I told you that all that was because you were a teenager. The changes a teenager goes through, you know?"

"Are you done?" He interrupted. "Don't wanna be here anymore."

"I lied." His attention was back on me again. "I lied, Jackson. I could smell you. And you smelled like the dead." He got into the car, driving away.

Stiles grabbed the milk from the fridge, deciding to take it with himself to his room, until he saw his dad sitting on a table, documents all over it. "Whatcha doing?"

"Work."

"Anything I can help with?"

"You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice." He didn't have to think it twice, grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey.

"Any leads?" Stiles was going to grab a document when his father slapped his hand away. "Wait. Before we get into that topic. Did you know that Melissa was going to bring Y/N?" He bit his lower lip.

Sheriff Stilinski nodded, drinking his alcohol. "An old workmate had that case. The case of Y/N McCall." Stiles waited for his father to go on. "As you know, Scott grew up without his father but seems like that man wasn't in her life neither. She only saw him a couple of times for what I know." He wrote down some information about Derek Hale. "Her mother was a disaster. My friend carried that case. He freed her from jail one time."

"Jail?" Stiles drank milk again.

"Drugs. An entire criminal record related to drugs; driving under the influence, getting into fights while high..." He coughed. "Then," Noah Stilisnki gazed at his son for the first time that night, ignoring the paper works that were on top of the table. "Child abuse." Stiles dropped the bottle, thankfully it was empty. "Y/N went to court with bruises a couple of times, nothing more than that. But still, abuse."

"Didn't they took her away? What are social services for? Didn't they protect her?" His eyebrows furrowed while he glanced at his dad, who was now looking at the documents on the table.

"They called Y/N's father to court, hoping he would take responsibility for his daughter like any father would do." Stiles's mouth was agape. "But he didn't. The judge decided that the environment wasn't the best one for a child. But, still gave an opportunity to her with the condition of going to rehab."

"Did she?" The teen asked, immersed in the story.

"No, she left Y/N on the front door of one of her friends, who was also into drugs in the past. However, that friend was clean."

"She said her mother died."

"She did." Noah stared at his son. "In jail. She died in jail. She...uhm, ended her life." Stiles was shocked. He had to talk to Scott. She wasn't there to make Scott mad, she was there because she had nobody.

"Why did she end up in jail?"

Noah shook his head. "She was on drugs, and...Uhm, she murdered someone. Then, she took her own life in jail."

Stiles could feel his heart beating loudly. He couldn't imagine how she felt.

Someone knocked on the door, and I came out of my room to see Melissa all dressed up. "Hey." She grinned at me, eyes shining with happiness. "You look beautiful." I offered her a grin, she thanked me, looking back at Scott.

"Scott! Get the door. Scott! For the love of God, please! Hey. What are you doing? Aren't you gonna invite him in?" She was like a teenager on her first date. Not surprised if we remember that she once was married to the man who put his dick on the woman that I should call mom.

I walked down the stairs when I heard Scott talking to her mom's date. He must feel strange, but I was curious to know who he was.

"I'm ready, I'm ready. Sorry again." It was Peter. Peter Hale.

"Mom."

"Yes? Sweetheart?" She was grabbing Peter's arm. I could tell she wanted to go out with him, and have a delightful night. But we all knew why Peter Hale was here. It wasn't because he had fallen in love with Melissa, or because he wanted to get to know her better. It was because of Scott and me.

"Have a good time." The door closed in our faces. "Don't say it."

I did anyway. "Are you going to let your mom go on a date with that demented psychopath?"

"Look, he told me that if I said something-" He sighed. "And what do I tell her? That her son is a teen werewolf, and that dude is-" He had difficulties breathing. "And Allison is upstairs-"

"Scott." I interrupted. "Calm down, okay?" I bit my lower lip, trying to think of something. "Give me your phone." He was confused.

"C'mon!" When he handed me his phone, I called the only person who could help me. "Stiles? Hi! Uhm, I need your help."

I explained the situation to Stiles while we followed Melissa and Peter. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I grunted. "I wish I was." I tried to get comfortable in the passenger seat. "Here they are." I glanced at him. "What do we do now?"

"We hit."

"Uh?"

Both of us got out of the car. Melissa's face becoming red when she saw Stiles. "Oh, are you kidding me? Stiles!" Her gaze fell on me next. "Y/N?"

"Mrs. McCall?" Great acting, Stiles. "Wow, this is - this is just crazy. What a coincidence, huh?" He looked at me for a second. "I mean - I do not know what happened. You guys just came out of nowhere."

"Came out of nowhere! We were parked on the side of the road, Stiles."

"How crazy is that? I mean, we should probably call the cops, you know, do like an accident report thing." I nodded my head while grabbing Melissa's hand. Please, please.

"I don't think that's necessary." Peter interrupted, looking around.

"Are you sure? I think I'm feeling a little whiplash." He touched his neck.

"Whiplash? You hit us!"

"I don't know - there's something definitely wrong with my neck." Melissa started screaming at him, and Peter went far from us, he was probably communicating with Scott, who had followed us.

I went closer to Peter, hearing him talk about Jackson. "Don't get close to her." He turned around. smirking at me. "Be a man." I glared at him. "Melissa has nothing to do with all this. Be a man, go for the ones who have something to do with this."

He grinned. "What are you going to do, sweetheart?"

"I was not the one held against a wall with a hand on my neck, choking to death." I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look intimidating.

"You don't even know how you did it." He came closer to me. "But I know-how. Don't you want to know? Don't you want to know what you are?" He tried to brush my cheek, but I slapped his hand away. "You, my dear, are very powerful. More than you think. Maybe even more than Scott. When you learn what you are and what you can do, you will be a great weapon."

"I'm a person, not a weapon."

"Aw, sweetheart." He pouted. "You aren't a person anymore, and you know it." He whispered the next thing, but of course, Scott was listening to him. "You could be stronger with me. Be part of my pack."

"She already has a pack." I hear Scott's voice in my head. How did he do that? "She is part of my pack."

[whynotwinnie]

Tímida: Roger Taylor x OC series

sorry guys i’ve been m.i.a. with second semester starting i’ve been stressing with class and all that but i had this chapter for awhile now and i decided to finish it. also i’m trying to work on “wounded” the kylo ren series but i fell into a bit of a writers block for that one. .-. i’ll work on it soon. but here is this roger taylor fic you can use ben hardy’s version of roger if you would like. :) thanks for reading.

 MICKEY

Waking up groggy you checked your alarm clock, 12:00 in the afternoon you have definitely seen worse you groaned as you got up from your bed. 

You had always followed a very specific routine in all honestly it just made sense living on your own had definitely impacted you and your mental health so sticking to a routine made it feel like your life was always on track, when it certainly was not. 

The first thing on your non-existent schedule was coffee, no matter the time you always needed some sort of caffeine when you are tight on cash it was tea at home, but when you were able and that was most of the time you went to a small coffee shop that was about a fifteen-minute walk from your studio apartment. 

After doing the basic self-hygiene you grabbed your tote bag filled with your work stuff and started walking to the directions to Beachwood Cafe.

The walk is always quiet and calm, but it always gave you little bits and pieces into other people’s lives. Like the old lady watering her plants or the way, the housewife takes her toddler for a walk in his stroller. The sense of familiarity comforted you. 

“Hello there.” 

You whipped your head toward the direction of the voice, this was not part of the routine you had never seen this man before, his shoulder-length blonde hair and ridiculously blue eyes were unfamiliar yet comforting. He was confident yet nonchalant with his greeting.

“Hello,” you said with a small smile he looked down at you smiling.

You continued to walk seeing Beachwood in the distance.

“Were you going to get a cuppa?” you nodded your head “That is so crazy because so was I.” he picked up his pace so he can open the door for you. 

You muttered a small thank you and walked in, Beachwood was a small but very popular coffeeshop the owner Dayla has became a very good friend of yours and always brightened up your day with a joke or two.

“Mimi, how are you love?” she asked from behind the counter.

“I’m good Day how are you?”

“Can’t complain if I say so myself.” she said grinning “Let me guess Caffe Latte and a pastry?”

“Yes ma’am, it’s late in the day you didn’t run out of the pastries yet?”

“I just took out a fresh batch right now, I knew you were going to have a late start today.”  God, you loved this woman.

You stepped aside to get your wallet from your bag 

“What would you like young man?” Dayla asked the man who walked in with you.

“I’ll just get a cup of tea please, Oh! I’ll get her order as well” he said as he saw you handing money to Dayla.

“That’s okay!” you said feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Please I insist.” He said practically throwing the money to pay for your order at Dayla.

“Please let me-”

“Mimi! he said he insists go sit down,” Dayla said looking at you wide-eyed.

You looked at both of them and walked to the seat you usually sat at and what a surprise the man came with you.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he said motioning to the seat across from you.

“Go ahead,” you said

He sat down looking out the window and then back at you. “I’m sorry I realized I never introduced myself I’m Roger Taylor.” he said extending his hand out to you, you grabbed it.

“I’m Mickey… well it’s not really Mickey but it’s just easier to pronounce.” Stupid you should’ve just said Mickey.

“May I ask what your real name is?” Roger said still holding your hand

“It’s Mikaela but Mickey is fine.”

“Can you say it one more time, I want to make sure I got it right.” he rubbed his thumb across your knuckles.

“Umm… yeah it’s pronounced Me as in me and you, Ki like eye but with a K in front of it and Yella like yell with an A after… That sounded really complicated actually you don’t have to-”

“Mikaela?” he said slowly looking up at you for confirmation. 

“Yeah!” your heart skipped a beat it is so nice hearing your name.

“Nice to meet you Mikaela” he said as he brought your hand up to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

Fuck.

Of course, at the exact same time as that happened, Dayla came with your drinks. She set your drink down smirking and left without saying another word.

“Is it safe to assume that you are not from here?” He asked while blowing on his tea before taking a small sip.

“Yeah, you can say that. What gave it away.” You said smiling from your coffee cup

“You’re just different from everyone not in a bad way either I like it. Where are you from.”

Oh god, I can die happy right now.

“Well, it's a bit of a long story.”

“I don't have anywhere to be.” He said his blues eyes burning into yours

Oh wow, he's so hot

“Oh in that case. I was born in a small town in Spain. Spanish was my first language so that’s why I talk funny.”

“I like the way you talk.”

He did not. Your face was definitely red.

“How does a girl from Spain come to London?”

“Ummm sheer luck I suppose.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Was it hard learning another language?”

“Learning English was super difficult sometimes I feel like I dont know what I’m saying, but English is my third language my second was Italian.”

“Italian? Where do you find the time to learn two extra languages?” He was genuinely in disbelief

“Well my mom was from Spain and my dad was from Italy so I just needed to know both and they’re pretty similar to each other so it wasn’t that hard.

“What do you do for fun?”

“What do I do for fun?” I repeated thinking hard

“Yes, you obviously must have loads of friends.”

“Well… I do have friends, I just can’t think of one at this second.”

This is embarrassing now he thinks I’m a loser

“Don’t worry I don’t have many friends either but consider me as your friend Mickey.”

“What about you? What do you do for fun?” I need to change the subject oh my god.

“Well, I’m in a rock band.”

“A rock band?!” You said a little too loudly

“What about me isn’t rock and roll Mickey?” he said laughing

“Not in a bad way of course you don’t seem like the type to be singing in front of a crowd,” I said shaking my head 

“Well, I suppose you got that right I’m on the drums in the back so the audience can’t really see me anyways.”

“I’m sorry I’m not trying to make fun of you I just got caught off guard, does your band have a name?”

“Sm- Queen,” he said shaking his head.

“I like the name Queen, are you playing soon I would like to see what I’m missing out on.”

“We’re actually recording our first album right now, the recording place is not too far from here about a block or two further down. So we’re going on a small break until we’re done with the album but I believe the next one is in three weeks.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it then.” You said sipping your coffee

“Actually I was hoping to see you earlier than that.”

You immediately choked on your coffee, making a scene by coughing into your napkin.

“That wasn’t the response I had hoped for,” he said passing you his napkin so you can wipe your tears with.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I wasn’t trying to be mean I just- well I would like to see you again as well.”

“Really?,” He said smiling, and you swear you could melt from his smile alone.

“Yes, of course.” You smiled back.

He then prompted to drink his cup of tea until it was finished and left money on the table.

“Great then I’m going to leave before I can mess up this perfect first moment. By any chance do you have a pen on you?”

You shook your head yes and looked through your bag handing it to him.

“This is my number, we’re recording until 6 today so anytime after that call me and I’d love to talk to you more.”

You felt your head spinning with how fast he was talking and moving.

He plucked your hand up and gave you a small kiss on it again, he then walked to the door before saying.

“Promise me you’ll call me,” he told you while he grabbed the door handle.

“I promise I’ll call you,” you said softly

“Perfect,” he said while he winked at you and then left.

He gave you one last look through the window and then left, once he was out of view Dayla came to the table.

“Who was that?” she said, collecting her tip that Roger left her.

“His name is Roger. I met him today.”

“Today! You’re joking.”

“I swear Dayla I met him minutes before coming here?”

“He can be a psychopath! And here you are chatting with him after knowing him for 30 minutes.”

That stopped you.

“He is not a psycho he was so nice and funny, and did you see how hot he is Day?”

“Yeah well murderers can be funny and hot.”

“Do you really think he’s a murderer?” you asked in a exsperated way.

“No, I was just kidding he is really hot and besides who would want to murder you?” Dayla said as she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Wow that doesn’t really make me feel better.”

She stood up grabbing Roger’s empty cup “Girl you know I was just playing I say go for it and have fun, anyone would be lucky to have you.” she bumped your shoulder with her hip and left.

Your mind felt overwhelmed with all the excitement from today you even almost forgot that you had some work orders to do you tried to push Roger from your mind as you grabbed your journal and sketchbook from your bag. You looked back at your notes reading on what your client wanted: a floor-length gown but not something too flashy something to show off their arms and their cleavage. Perfect. You spent your time designing the gown having fun with it since you probably wouldn’t have another gown piece for months. After finishing you went on to your smaller orders feeling yourself getting into the groove of things.

Looking up from your sketch you noticed how dark it got outside and how empty it now was in the cafe. You decided to call it a day, well that was until you go home, and then you would start making the gown. You noticed the clock when you were telling Dayla good night. 6:58 Damn time really flew by and then you remembered the number you had in your bag.

The walk home went by to fast your thoughts about what you would say to Roger once you called made you nervous to the point that your keys kept slipping from your hands as you were trying to open the door to your apartment. 

You purposely threw your jacket on the phone hook so you didn’t have to see it and went to the bathroom you looked at your appearance baggy jeans, an oversize t-shirt that you also slept in, hair a mess, and no makeup. You shook your head, no way Roger was being serious about you calling him he was so much more put together and out of your league completely. You could just imagine all the beautiful women that he has been with, no way you could compare. You sighed walking out the bathroom ready to get started on your order. You grabbed the different fabrics you needed for making the gown and when you went to grab your sketchbook Roger’s number fell and slowly fluttered down to the floor like it was taunting you. You stared at the paper hard groaning when you opened it reading that he wrote “Roger <3” following his number. You did promise him you would call…

Your heartbeat picked up when you approached the phone dialing each number slowly wishing a catastrophic event would happen and end the world so you didn’t have to finish dialing. It didn’t happen. You put the phone to your ear and hear the first ring, and then the second. This was stupid calling him in the first place you removed the phone from your ear and were half a second away from hanging up when you heard “Hello?”

Shit.

You couldn’t just hang up now. 

“Hello, is this Roger?”

“It took you long enough.”

[mc-i-r]

Thrill of the kill

Chapter 10

Masterpost

Ship: intrulogical

Pov: Virgil

Tw: guns, shooting, blood, dead bodies, yelling, suicide (by cop)

Let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 1794

A/N: As promised, here is the last chapter of Totk. I'm so proud of this and seeing everyone who reads it has made me infinitely happy. Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoy the super long last chapter!

“We’ve got ‘em. They’re at a bank downtown, holding everyone inside hostage. If we hurry we can diffuse it before it gets too bad,” I said, leaning on the doorframe to Roman’s office. He quickly got up, following me out of the station and to the car. We mixed in with the flood of police cars exiting the precinct, heading downtown to finally catch those maniacs.

“What have we got so far?” Roman asked on our way up there. I kept my attention on the road, following the back end of the police car in front of me.

“They planned out a bank robbery, a big one at that. I won’t be surprised if this is their last, if I’m being honest with ya. We profiled that they would stop at nothing to get away with it and if that means suicide by cop then so be it. They’ve been escalating for a few months now so keep your eyes open. This one is gonna be big,” I said. We turned the final corner, both of us practically jumping out of the car. I found one of the first responding officers, asking what the current situation is.

“So far, they’ve locked the door from the inside with chains and sealed off all the exits. We counted around 50 to 60 hostages inside. They moved them to the middle of the building but that’s all we know so far,” he said. He got a call over his walkie talkie, stepping way to answer it. I turned to Roman, sighing and running a hand down my face.

“It’s worse than I thought. They’re not gonna let those hostages live,” I said. Roman tiled his head like a puppy in confusion. Dammit, why does he have to be so cute?! Virgil, not now.

“Why do you say that?” he asked. 

“Because, Roman, they’re psychopaths. They feel no empathy. No remorse for anything they’ve ever done. They don’t care about those people and they don’t care about the money. They’re only doing this because you need money to survive, no other reason. They aren’t going to let those people go, Roman. I know it,” I said, gesturing to the door. I started pacing, trying to figure out the best tactic to cool down the situation. None of them were good options.

“We need to set up communications. It’s the only thing I can think of. We need to get in their heads somehow. You! Yeah, you. Can you help me set this up?” I ask, calling out to a random officer. He nodded and came over to where me and Roman were trying to set up the communications operation. “Thank you….?”

“Oh, Officer Heart. But you can call me Patton,” the officer said, the cheery character extending a hand for me to take. I don’t do handshakes so Roman stepped in, shaking the man’s hand.

“I’m Roman and this grumpy man is Virgil,” he said. I glared at him, elbowing him in the side.

“Ow! Hey, what was that for!?” he said, grabbing his side. Patton just snickered, hooking up a few wires onto the recorder and phone. 

“You know what it was for, Princey, don’t act dumb,” I said, turning back to the task at hand.

“‘Princey’?” Patton asked, raising an eyebrow. Me and Roman both answered at the same time.

“It’s what I call this idiot.”

“It’s his special nickname for me.”

I let out a huff of air as Patton giggled, hooking in the last wire. I pressed the power button and the line went live.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you two to be quiet, okay?” I said. The both nodded and I punched in the number for the bank, picking up the phone and putting it to my ear. I heard it ring;

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Bingo.

“Eh? What d’you want?” a nasally voice sounded from the other end. It took all my willpower not to grimace. 

“Who is this?” I asked. It's best to set the scene first before getting into negotiations. 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Virgil. Detective Virgil.”

“Ooh, fancy. So, Detective Virgil, what brings you here this fine day?” the obnoxious voice sounded from the other end. I’m going to have a headache by the end of this. 

“Oh, you know, just a couple of serial killers robbing a bank. The usual.” A shrill laugh rangs over the phone, making me pull the phone away from my ear to save my eardrums. “You never answered my question. Who is this?”

“Remus Prince at your service,” he said. That name made me pause. It was...familiar somehow. Remus, Remus, Remus. Prince. Remus Prince. Roman Prince. 

Oh. My. God.

It’s Roman’s twin brother.

Oh no.

“Do you plan on coming out anytime soon?” I asked. I had to keep my cool and try not to freak out that my crush’s partner’s lost brother is currently holding a bank hostage with his psychopathic boyfriend. 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. I sighed. ‘This is going to be a long conversation.’

“Then tell me, Remus, why the bank robbery? Why now?”

“Well, I was getting quite bored and thought a good ol’ bank heist would do the trick.”

"So you don’t have any friends to visit?”

“Friends? HA! I haven’t had a friend in years,” the eccentric man laughed. 

“Well I’m sure it’s hard to make friends when you murder them.”

“That was rude,” Remus pouted.

“So is murder,” I said, deadpan. “How do you plan on getting out of there? We’ve got all the exits covered, front and back.”

“I’m sure Logan will think of something. He always does.”

“So Logan is the other one? How long ha-”

“Hang on there sunshine, gimme a moment.” he interrupted. The line went silent for a second, the sound of distant yelling coming through on the other side. There was a gunshot, then another, and another; the sound echoing off the concrete walls. Several officers shouted, trying to advance forward to bust into the building. That would only panic them, making them shoot at random and kill more people than necessary. 

“DON’T MOVE IN!!” I yelled, commanding the officers to take a step back. I put the phone to my ear once more.

“I had to take care of something. I’m sorry, you were saying?” Remus said nonchalantly. I wondered just how many people he’s killed in his lifetime for this to be normal. I didn’t like that thought very much. 

“How long have you two known each other? You and Logan I mean,” I ask. I hear a humming noise come from the other end, indicating that he was thinking.

“About three years now,” he responded. 

“So you haven’t seen anyone except him for three years?” I asked.

“Nope!” he said, popping the ‘p’ once again. “And I’m not complaining either. I mean...have you seen that man?”

“Not even your brother?” I asked. The line went deathly silent; so much so that I thought he had hung up. The light on the monitor proved me otherwise though, as well as the burst of gunshots that came from inside. I heard the phone disconnect and I slammed the phone down in anger.

“Dammit! We almost had him,” I yelled. I started pacing again, trying to work away the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

“What happened? Why were there so many gunshots?” Roman asked, looking more confused than concerned.

“I must have struck a nerve. We need to move in soon or else this will end more bloody than we hope for,” I said. I tried to walk past Roman but he held an arm out, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

“Hey, are you good?” he asked, voice having dropped to almost a whisper. It was sweet how much he cares. If we weren’t in a hostage situation right now I probably would have finally confessed. 

“Yeah, I’m good. We just need to get them out of there,” I said, walking past him and to the line of officers. 

They had formed a barricade around the entrance of the bank, many of them already aiming their guns at the glass doors. I made my way over to them, joining in the line and aiming my gun as well. A minute or two later, Roman joined me, Patton following closely behind. I was getting ready to give the command for S.W.A.T to enter when two figures approached the door, both carrying guns, one undid the chains on the door while the other pushed the door open, both of them aiming their guns at us. 

I held up the signal for ‘hold fire’, analysing the two psychopaths that now stood in front of us. One officer yelled for them to put their guns down, both of them ignoring the command. They were almost in a daze, ignoring the outside world. The same officer warned them, saying that they would open fire. Again, they didn’t comply. Instead, they made their way closer to one another, guns still aimed at the line of officers. Their lips collided with one another, fingers pulling the trigger and opening fire. I ducked behind part of the barricade, shielding myself from the incoming bullets. They were doing it. They were actually doing it. 

They were going to die.

I took a breath and peeked around the barricade, watching as the two serial killers were almost riddled with bullets. Still, the two stayed locked in a kiss, holding on to each other. In their last moments, they pulled apart, both whispering something that was lost to time. Then, their bodies fell to the ground in a pool of blood, limp and growing cold. 

I never forgot that day. The day two lovers were caught in the whirlwind of bullets, how their love faded just like the life from their eyes. The day dozens of bodies are hauled out of that bank, their loved ones weeping at the sight. The final look they gave us before their bodies were torn to shreds. It was peaceful almost, like they had prepared for this since the moment they met. I suppose they had; having a plan in case things went wrong. It wasn’t just me that was haunted by that day. Roman almost broke down when he found out it was his brother, often visiting the crime scene and replaying the last moments of his lost brother’s life. I found him coming to my apartment almost every day, sobbing and almost collapsing from exhaustion. It was a sad day, one that ruined too many lives to count. It did help me realize something, something that I never forgot in the many years to come. 

People really will do anything for love.

Taglist:

@whattheremus @falsemood @braingoburr @midnightstorm-underthe-moon @martini46

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Rachel Eliot: The Infodump

Here’s just a big info dump on my oc Rachel, with explanations of canon characters & her relationships with them — it was written for a friend who hasn’t watched The Society so it should be comprehensible even without being familiar with the fandom!  I’m just very excited about her lmao!  However it does contain spoilers for the show!

Her twin brother is Sam Eliot, the deaf & gay character (in other words, obviously my favourite) — he's about the nicest person in town tbh

their older brother campbell is a piece of shit and a psychopath (however it's very hollywood-sensationalized and really the only thing I sort of dislike about the show, so I'm debating if I might go for a more realistic route or fully lean into that and go angsty as fuck)

she's a lesbian, and she's dating a guy on the football team named Grizz (best boy, literally a human ray of sunshine) — they started dating when she was 14 and he was 15; when she was 16 and he was 17 she told him she was a lesbian and his reaction was basically "oh thank god, I'm gay — also I have a crush on Sam", however neither was ready to come out, so they're still dating as far as everyone else knows

canonically speaking, Grizz isn't out and has slept with girls in the past and his plan has always basically been "pretend to be straight until I graduate, go to university, come out, never look back", and I thought it would be an interesting dynamic to play with in terms of they very much are soulmates and love each other so much, they have slept together and they're comfortable kissing to keep people off their backs, but neither of them are any less gay for choosing not to come out yet bc fuck gatekeeping in queer communities

and she's in love with Becca, who's Sam's best friend!  Becca (spoilers!!!) is pregnant and refuses to tell anyone who the father is, and when she tells Sam about her baby (and her fear of what people will say if there's no father), he immediately offers to step up and be the father; both in terms of helping to raise the baby and in terms of "you can tell people that I'm the bio dad and that we experimented or something"

so needless to say, the baby will have a very confusing family tree —  "this is my mom becca and my dad sam and this is my other mom rachel who's also my sam-dad’s sister and this is my other dad grizz who used to date my mom-aunt rachel"

In terms of her personality/interests/hobbies:

Rachel is an artist and a writer!  She's about to be done her junior year of high school when they end up in this parallel world

Grizz is her best friend and her safety net, Campbell is pretty much the only person she's afraid of, she has bpd (undiagnosed at that point, but I know it about her!), and she's got a bit of an atlas complex!

at first she has no intention of really trying to be a leader in their new society — she'd rather just stick by Grizz's side, and when she can't do that then she's helping Sam try to investigate how they ended up in the town!  When Grizz gets put in charge of taking a team into the forest that now surrounds them, to look for land for farming, she's the first to sign up and is his second in command on the team, because the idea of being in New Ham (their town) without him terrifies her

When they return, things are kind of a mess, and that's when she gets this sort of "someone has to do something, and I guess I'm the one who has to do it" mentality, particularly about dealing with Campbell (it's not that Campbell has a soft spot for her by any means, but rather that if he's going to hurt someone then she'd rather it be her than anyone else and maybe, just maybe, if she survives his game for long enough, she'll find a way to win)

she's self sacrificing to a fault, keeps her emotions locked down tightly with everyone but Grizz (and eventually Sam & Becca) but cares *so much* about everyone around her, and she's pretty much constantly 0.2 seconds away from having a panic attack

and she's an honorary member of the football team bc of Grizz!  She usually hangs out with them (which can be really hard bc Campbell also hangs out with them often-ish) and even though the three who aren't Grizz can all kind of be assholes, they do actually care about her and see her as a sort of little sister

And, she becomes the historian for their new society!  Her cousin Cassandra is the first mayor and I have this moment between them planned when jobs are being assigned where Rachel just goes up to her and goes "I want to write" and Cassandra says something about like "I know you do, and I want to go to Yale, but we can't do that right now" and Rachel just being like "No, I want to write.  We're either going to be found, find a way home, or die.  And someone, someday, should know what happens to us.  I want to write it all, I want to record it."

her job comes to include recording & tracking of all of their resources, writing a newsletter (that gets posted in the few central areas in town since paper is a limited resource) that recaps everything that's happened and has a schedule for town meetings, movie nights, meals, etc, and any new laws that get put into place, and then her half-journal almost (except she tries to record everything that's going on not just what's going on for her, and she tries to keep it unbiased) about every single day and everything that happens in town and how people feel about choices that get made and whatnot

[p-artsypants]

Integrity- Chapter 8

Ao3 | FF.net

Monday morning rolled around with a cool, all encasing fog. The gray mist that settled in between buildings, blotting out sunlight, and casting a refreshing coolness on everything blanketed underneath it.

It was glum.

Ladybug had escorted Gabriel to the police last night, as they had planned. Though he was drunk, Gabriel was well behaved. This allowed Ladybug to convince the Police to stay quiet about his arrest. Of course, it was inevitable that the media would catch wind of it, and it would be all over the news. 

But she just wanted to have a few days to prepare to announce it herself, and to give Adrien some time with his mother. 

He hadn’t come home last night, not that she expected him too. He may be gone for the rest of the week. Maybe longer. She couldn’t blame him for staying away. 

She just missed him already.

“Hey Marinette,” Alya greeted warmly. “Where’s Sunshine? He’s gotta get rid of this fog!” 

“Yeah dude, where’s my dawg?” Said Nino. 

Marinette smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. How much truth could she spare? This was Rena Rouge and Carapace after all. Surely they were trustworthy. Would Adrien mind?

“Um…he’s with his mother.” 

Nino and Alya just stared at her, dawning horror creeping on their faces. 

“He’s dead?”

“No!” Marinette scrambled to explain. “No, no…We found his mother yesterday. Well, he found her a few days ago, but we couldn’t do anything about it until last night.” 

Alya blinked a few times. “Okay girl, you lost me. You often lose me, but this is like—a whole other dimension. Can ya back up a touch?”

“I’ll tell you guys everything after school, but you have to promise me not to tell anyone.” She leaned closer. “This is just as secret, or even more so, as your secret identities.” 

Alya rapidly blinked again. “Wh-what?! What are you—how do you—What!?”

“That’s all I’m saying for now.”

“You can’t just leave us there!” 

“That’s all that’s safe to say here. Just...just trust me. Okay?” 

Alya took a long breath. They’d been through this before. Her trust was constantly being tested by Marinette. The absences, the tardiness, the forgetful ‘oh I have to go water my hamster’ ness. “Girl...I did trust you. But...are you going to finally explain what’s going on?” 

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything. If you’ll just be patient with me.” 

Alya exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay. I think that’s worth it.” 

They travelled together upstairs and into the classroom, where several other students milled about quietly. It seemed they hadn’t recovered from the turmoil from last week. 

Faces turned to her, weak smiles in place. Sincere enough, but lacking luster. She didn’t really blame them. She felt like that too. 

After some time, Miss Bustier arrived, and settled everyone in their seats. 

And then there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in.” 

Miss Bustier invited in the devil, and the mother of the devil. 

Lila. Lila was here. 

“Hello, Madam Rossi, are you vouching for Lila’s tardiness?” 

“On the contrary,” the woman said coldly. “Lila won’t be attending your class anymore, or this school, for that matter. But before we leave, I wanted to make sure she apologized to those she wronged.”

My my, what an interesting turn of fate. Lila stood in front, arms crossed, and full of spite. 

“Where’s Mr. Agreste?” Madam Rossi asked. 

“He’s not here,” Marinette supplied. “He’s visiting family.” 

“Ha!” Said Lila. “That proves it! If he wasn’t guilty, he’d be here!” 

“Hush, Lila. I’ve heard enough from you.” Her mother spat. “You, what’s your name?” He looked at Marinette. 

“Uh, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” 

“Marinette—first of all, I want to apologize to you and your mother. She called me with concerns and I blew her off. In fact, I didn’t know there were any problems until I received a court summons at my workplace. Not only was my daughter lying to me about her after school activities, but she lied about the school being closed to take an extended vacation!” 

There were scoffs of disgust from around the room. 

“Mama...” Lila whined. 

“I said be quiet, child. Your lying has gotten too far out of control and I’ve had enough of it. It’s time your friends knew the truth. And you’re going to tell them. Now.” 

Lila swallowed. “Um...I didn’t actually go with my mother abroad for several months. I was at home. I told her the principal was akumatized and the school was closed.” 

“Now, about Marinette?” 

Lila groaned. “Marinette was right. I didn’t bully her at all. I made all that stuff up...” 

“And regarding Adrien Agreste?” 

“Adrien...never touched me. I lied. I was mad because I was fired from Gabriel for harassing Adrien.” 

“Anything else you want to get off your chest?” 

“No.” 

“Well, that’s a shame.” Madam Rossi huffed. “What do you have to say to Marinette?” 

“...I’m sorry.” 

“For?” 

“For lying.” 

“Not good enough, Lila. Try again.”

Lila hissed, like apologizing was actually, physically painful. “I’m sorry for tattling on you to your mom. And I’m sorry for trying to get you expelled.” 

Marinette pushed her luck. “...and for turning my friends against me?” 

“AND for turning your friends against you.” 

Eh. Good enough. 

“Now, Marinette,” said Madam Rossi. “Lila must apologize to Adrien, but she’s being sent back to Italy right away. Will you record it and make sure he sees it?” 

“Of course, ma’am.” Marinette took out her phone and turned on the camera. “Ready when you are.” 

Madam Rossi nudged her daughter in the ribs. 

“Adrien...I’m sorry I lied about you touching me. I’m sorry I lied to get into modeling with you. And I’m sorry I kissed your cheek without permission...and I'm sorry I spied on you.” With a little shrug, that’s where she ended it. 

Marinette stopped recording and leveled a glare at Lila. “You’re not really sorry, are you? You wouldn’t think anything was wrong if your mom wasn’t here making you apologize.” 

Lila didn’t answer, but her dead-eyed glare spoke volumes. 

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh you think you’re so smug! Just because my lies caught up to me first! But you’re just as much as a liar as I am, aren’t you, little miss goody goody?” 

Maybe she was being petty. Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe she really didn’t like being called a liar. 

Either way, she held back just long enough to look in her purse. 

Tikki gave her a firm nod. 

Time to be selfish. 

“Tikki, Spots on.” 

In a whirl of pink, Ladybug sat in Marinette’s seat and the room went dead silent. 

Except for Alya, who was making some choked wheezing sounds. 

“Happy now, Lila?” Ladybug said calmly. “Yes, I lied, and flaked, and ditched my friends. I hated every minute of it, but I knew fighting akumas came first, and everything else came second. I couldn’t tell a single soul until Hawkmoth was defeated. Not even my partner.” She leveled her gaze on Lila. “But you? You just lie because you can. You have no plans, you just lie and then lie again when someone calls you out on them. You don’t care. You never cared. All you care about is yourself. That’s the reason you got caught. I chose to reveal my secret because it’s safe now.”

“Shut up!” Lila barked. Then she actually threw a punch at the hero of Paris. 

Naturally, Ladybug dodged it like she had been moving in slow motion. 

“You’re the worst! This whole time I thought there were two stuck up, nosy, holier-than-thou bitches in Paris. But now I see it’s only one. You don’t deserve your fame or your powers! I could have had everything! Popularity! Friends! Adrien! Fame! Even powers like Hawkmoth promised me! But you had to ruin it for me! You always ruin everything! I hate you! I hate you!!” 

“Alright, we’re done.” Said Madam Rossi. She wrapped her arms around Lila, as she continued to wriggle and scream. “I see now that Italy isn’t going to be a good idea either. We’ll find a nice, quiet...resort for you for a little while.” 

But Lila just continued her screaming and kicking. Her mother had to forcibly pull her from the room. 

The door shut with a slam, Lila’s tantrum muffled down the hall. 

And then, Ladybug stood there, keenly aware of the actions she had just made in front of all her classmates. Even Miss Bustier was slack jawed. 

“I expect all of you can keep a secret of this magnitude. It would be best if you never even saw me transform.” 

Still silence. But Marinette dropped her transformation and sat down. 

Alya was the only one able to find a voice. “Why now? What changed?” 

“It’s safe now.” Marinette explained. “Relatively speaking. I’m certain that there’s people out there who still want to hurt me. But if we all keep this to ourselves, I see no harm.” 

“What about Lila?” Asked Alya. 

“Well, she does have a track record for faultless honesty. Who wouldn’t believe her?” Marinette said sarcastically. 

“Safe?” Nino asked, finding his voice. “Safe how?”

It was the sweetest truth in the world. “Chat Noir and I defeated Hawkmoth.” 

The sentence was like electricity, jolting the room with excitement, cheers, and hugs. Students scrambled to hug her in gratitude. 

“How?! When?!” Barked Alya. “There was no akuma! How did this happen!?”

Miss Bustier sat at the edge of her desk, resigned that there would be no learning today, but she really didn’t mind. 

“Espionage.” Marinette said, matter-of-factly. “And to be honest, it was mostly Chat. We just officially arrested him last night.”

“Who was he? How did it happen?! I need details!” Alya nearly screamed and grabbed her by the collar and shook. 

“Alya, calm down.” Marinette laughed. “I’d love to tell you all the details, but…I haven’t told anyone else yet. I have to address the public and write a speech…but I don’t even know where to start…”

Miss Bustier clapped. “Marinette! I have an idea!” 

She looked to her teacher, skeptical. “Yes?”

“A writing assignment for the class. You give us the details, everyone will take notes, and we’ll help you write the speech! It would be an excellent exercise for writing from an interview.” 

Marinette paused, crossing her arms and looking forward towards Adrien’s seat. 

Again, the news about Gabriel was going to be public at some point. If she could get it out quickly before the other media beat her to it, she might be able to manipulate the story in her favor. As angry as she was with Gabriel, his motive was fine, and he showed…remorse? Maybe he could be redeemed and maybe Adrien could have his family back one day. 

“As long as everyone promises to not talk about it to anyone, I don’t mind sharing the details.” 

There was another cheer around the class as everyone gathered their phones and notebooks to take notes. 

Miss Bustier clarified for everyone, “If you’re recording Marinette, the video promptly gets deleted after the assignment is over. It does not get posted on any social media, or get sent to anyone. This is for Marinette’s safety, do you all understand?”

“Yes, Miss Bustier!” Called the class, unanimously. After the dreadful behavior with Lila, no one was eager to get on Marinette’s bad side again.

Marinette stood at the front of the room, recounting what had happened, with the smallest twist of having Chat Noir as a separate character. If someone did blab, Adrien’s identity would be safe. 

“Adrien’s the hero of our story.” She began. “Gabriel Agreste was arrested last night at 10:30, coming peacefully and quietly. On Thursday night, he confided in his son, that he was in fact, Hawkmoth, and that his assistant was Mayura. He disclosed his purpose was to save the life of his wife Emilie, who had fallen mysteriously ill. He was under the assumption that the only cure was using Chat’s and my Miraculous. It is unknown where he got this idea from. Adrien was skeptical enough to flag down Chat Noir as he was doing a late night patrol. He explained the situation to my partner. From there, they waited until Monsieur Agreste went to sleep, before stealing the Miraculous off of him. Chat then delivered the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous to me, and further explained the situation. After consulting my resources, we visited M. Agreste and told him it was likely we could still save his wife without the need for our Miraculous. He then willingly gave himself up and apologized. He has been taken into police custody.” 

“Excuse me, Ladybug,” Alya called out, just like in a real press conference. “What happened to Mayura? Is she in police custody as well?”

“I don’t know about that. The police are aware of her involvement, but she was fired by Gabriel earlier this week. She wasn’t with him when he was arrested.”

“Are you going to go after her?”

“No. She no longer has a Miraculous. This is not a job for us anymore.”

Someone else raised their hand, Nathaniel. “How much do you want us to elaborate on Adrien’s involvement?”

“I only have Adrien’s best interest at heart. While I know he’d rather not be mentioned at all, I think it’s extremely important for the media to know that he was not complicit in his father’s actions.” 

“Where is Adrien now?” Asked Chloe, more out of concern than for the assignment. 

“He is with his mother while she gets treated. I won’t disclose that information to the public.” Then she added as a side note, “but if you want to know, ask me later, Chloe.” 

Chloe just took a relieved sigh and nodded to her. It seemed all the previous animosity between her and Ladybug, or even Marinette, had faded with all this new information. 

“Where are the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous now?” Asked Kim.

“Someplace safe.” Marinette smiled. “There’s no fear of someone else getting a hold of them.” 

“Are Ladybug and Chat Noir retiring now?” Asked Rose, full of emotion.

“Ladybug will continue her patrols, and try to help around the city. I haven’t talked with Chat about what he wants to do.” 

Alya raised her hand again, her eyes shining with excitement. “Any chance of auxiliary heroes getting to join you every once in a while?”

Marinette shrugged. “Perhaps.” There was no reason for them to, but with Gabriel behind bars, there was no reason for them not to. “Any other questions?” 

The class was frantically scribbling down notes, but there were no more raised hands. 

“I have plenty of off the record questions!” Alya called. 

“I’ll answer those later,” Marinette asked. 

“Alright,” began Miss Bustier. “These speeches will be due…Wednesday? Does that work for you, Marinette?”

“That should be perfect.”

“Wonderful. Then I won’t be giving anymore literature homework until then, because I want everyone to focus on this. Please write at least one page, double spaced. But more is fine. Ladybug has the right to edit whichever one she picks.” She glanced at the clock. “Goodness, that was almost the whole hour! I’ll give you the rest of the hour to talk among yourselves.”

—

While stories don’t typically have a happy ending in real life, Marinette was happy to note that things were working out nicely. The fog remained the rest of the week as Adrien stayed away from Paris. Juleka, of all people, ended up writing the most articulate, emotional, and accurate speech out of the bunch, and Ladybug presented it at a press conference with the Mayor. 

Stories of all sorts of accuracies came out of it from the media, but conspiracies were loudly silenced, as Ladybug’s speech in full was available to everyone. Gabriel had yet to make any statements of his own, but his lack of urgency only lended itself to the official story. 

It was over.

Gabriel’s trial would come in time, and Ladybug and Chat Noir would both be expected to testify, but the fight against Hawkmoth was over. 

Despite revealing herself to her family and classmates, Marinette felt light. Unburdened, and guiltless. The raised grades were a bonus. 

There was just one thing missing.

Adrien.

It had been a week since he stepped into that portal with his mother. He hadn’t taken his phone with him, but she never received a message from his baton. Not even a confirmation that he made it safely. 

After several days of solid dependence and partnership, she missed him terribly.

Then finally, late one night, she awoke to a flash of light on her balcony. She was instantly awake, throwing open the door to investigate. 

Belle Noir stood there, alone, and looking exhausted. 

“Adrien?” She asked softly. 

“Miss me, My Lady?”

“Unbelievably.”

Adrien dismissed his transformation and dragged himself over to her room. 

“So what happened? How is she?”

“Still asleep.” He landed on her bed, and took off his shoes. “Not likely to wake up for a while still…but she looks better. They told me to go home, since being around her and watching was making me ill.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just need a shower and a good night’s rest. Can I sleep next to you? I really missed you.”

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”

After showering and shaving, a nice clean Adrien flopped onto Marinette’s bed. He inhaled deeply. “Hmm, I missed this smell.” 

“Weirdo.”

“Smells like bread and cinnamon and pretty girl.” 

“Do you want to hear about all the trouble I got into while you were gone?”

“All of it…if I can stay awake.”

So Marinette told it all, starting on Monday morning with Lila, and leading all the way up to the speech, which she showed him on her phone. 

“You just transformed? In front of everyone?”

She shrugged. “Not my brightest move, but Lila was accusing me of lying too…I just wanted to get it out in the air. I don’t regret it.”

“Did you tell anyone who I am?”

“Nope. I thought about telling Alya and Nino, but your identity is yours to tell. Or to keep a secret. It’s totally up to you.” 

Adrien had his eyes half closed, the comfort of the bed and the warmth from his girlfriend relaxing him to sleep. “I have some ideas.”

“Care to share?”

“No. Too tired.”

“Okay kitty.” She giggled. Then she shuffled down to lay beside him, before he latched on and nuzzled her. “Hmmmmm My Lady.”

“Goodnight Kitty Cat.”

“Night. I love…”

“I love too.”

—

In the morning, Marinette woke up to an empty bed. For a moment, she worried that Adrien coming back last night had been a dream. But his suitcase was open and rifled through. 

Confused, she got up and got dressed, and then came down for breakfast. 

“Morning Miss Hero.” Sabine said fondly.

“Morning mama…did you see Adrien this morning?”

“I didn’t, but your father did. Said he got up really early to take care of some stuff.

“‘Stuff’ huh? Sounds vague.” 

“I don’t know. But he said he’ll meet you at school. So instead of interrogating me, you can go to class and find out for yourself.” 

“Oh I suppose!” Marinette said, dramatically. Then she took a seat at the table and started pouring herself some breakfast. 

“They’re talking about the Hawkmoth story again.” Sabine gestured to the muted TV. “Some people are calling for a reinstatement of the guillotine.”

Marinette scoffed. “Yeah, maybe if there had been any lasting damage, maybe. But as it stands, no one died, no collateral damage…maybe some trauma I guess.”

“You’re being awfully defensive of the man you’ve been fighting the last year.” 

Marinette shrugged. “I just…want Adrien to have his family back. I know Gabriel has to face punishment, and jail might even soften him up to be a better dad when he gets out. I just want him to be able to have his dad in his life…even if it’s just a little bit.”

“Even after all this, he doesn’t hate his father?”

“I couldn’t say.” 

—

The fog had lifted. The morning sunlight was warm and bright, the birds chirped, the flowers bloomed. Adrien was back in Paris, somewhere, and all was right with the word. 

Marinette almost skipped to school.

Half of her class awaited her by the steps, and when she came into view, they all started calling for her. “Marinette! Marinette!” 

“Carry your bag to class?”

“Carry you to class?”

“Guys guys,” she laughed. “I’m flattered, but you don’t need to keep pampering me. It was fun last week, but we’re cool now, okay?”

“We just wanted to let you know that we were sorry and we appreciate you!” Said Rose, enthusiastically.

“I understand. And I forgive you. The cards, and the back rubs, and the foot rubs, and the manicures…I got it. But I don’t want our friendship to revolve around you guys just worshipping me. And I especially don’t want to be treated like this because of who I am. Let’s just…all go for ice cream this weekend?”

“Fine, but I’m paying for your ice cream!”

“No! I want to pay!”

Marinette chuckled to herself and led the throng of followers into the school. Maybe…one more week of being spoiled wouldn’t hurt. Right?

“Have you heard anything from Adrien?” Nino asked, as he asked everyday. 

“Actually, I did! I’m fairly certain he’ll be in class today too!”

Nino pumped his fist. 

“What should we do to make him feel welcome?” Asked Rose. “We were pretty crappy to him last time we saw him. After all he’s been through…”

Marinette looked over the remorseful faces staring at her. They wanted to make things right. 

“I think apologies, hugs, and just being there for him will be enough. I think he’d appreciate affection, but not being treated like he’s fragile. He’s incredibly strong, you know.” 

They all nodded, but she could hear them conspiring with each other about cards and a cake. She wasn’t going to fight them on this. Adrien needed his friends, and sincere ones at that. 

Walking into the classroom, Marinette’s eye immediately fell on the very expensive handbag on her desk. Chloe sat at her own desk, admiring her nails. 

“Is that—?”

“A Hermes Birkin Togo Handbag with gold Hardware? Why yes, it is.” 

“Why is it on my desk?”

Chloe shrugged. “what, that old thing? I got it, but it doesn’t match my wardrobe, so I figured you would appreciate it.” 

“But…this is new this season! It hasn’t even been released yet!”

“Well, it’s old to me. Give it to your mom if you don’t want it. It’s no skin off my nose!” 

Marinette gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you Chloe, this means a lot to me. Especially after all that happened.” 

“Are you talking about my silly little tantrum? Puh-lease. Even I’m not immune to the allure of pretty jewelry. But it won’t happen again, I’m over combs.”

“Well, I’m crazy about this bag, so thank you.” 

Chloe’s mouth twitched before she said, “you’re welcome.”

Alya and Marinette spent the rest of the morning gushing over the bag, because regardless of who it came from, it was a nice bag. Miss Bustier came in and started the lesson.

It was then that Marinette realized Adrien still hadn’t shown up. 

“I thought you said he was coming today?” Whispered Nino.

“I thought he was. He doesn’t have his phone on him anymore either.”

A few minutes passed before a black blur whizzed by the window. It back tracked and Chat Noir landed on the ledge, knocking on the window. 

“Chat Noir?” Miss Bustier asked as Kim opened the window. 

“So sorry I’m late! I was packing up some of my mother’s belongings to take to her later.” He stalked across the room, with Adrien’s bag draped over his shoulder. Then he stopped at Marinette’s desk, before stooping to kiss her on the lips. “Good morning, My Lady. Sorry I left without saying anything. I woke up early and I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“It’s okay.”

“Claws in.” 

And then it all clicked. The class went ballistic. There was screaming, hugs, well-intended punches, and overall excitement. 

Miss Bustier rolled her eyes fondly. “Guess I’ll have to remove your absences too, to be fair.” 

“Oh, sorry. When Marinette told me she revealed her identity to the class, I knew I had to too, and even more dramatically.” 

“You’re such a goober.” Marinette teased fondly.

“But I’m your goober!”

[zahrajackson]

TASK 003: THE HARGROVE TAPES

“You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”

Zahra leaned back in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. “Of course not.” She wasn’t even looking at Hargrove, attention instead on digging through her handbag for some gum. “It’s always good to have records. I’d hate for my words to be misconstrued.” She looked up to give a sugary sweet smile before popping a stick of gum in her mouth to start chewing.

“Let’s start with this… ‘Candy Girl’ nonsense. What do you know about her?”

Zahra gave a half-hearted shrug. Between her mindless chewing and her attention meandering around the room, she was the picture of impatient boredom. “Not much. I know that she’s, like, obsessed with me and my friends in a psycho stalker kinda way.” She paused here, tone sharpening as she locked eyes with Hargrove. “And I know that her nonsense almost killed my cousin and hijacked a memorial for my best friend. So I’d appreciate if you could be a little less dismissive, sir.”

“And whose idea was it to throw the party on the beach? You all claim it was supposed to be a small event, but I hear quite the crowd showed up. Who invited them?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be a party. It was supposed to be some kinda nostalgic, end of summer thing. You remember when us kids would take over your lake house for a sleepover back in the good old days, right Mr. Hargrove?” The smile was back, accompanied with an obnoxious pop as she blew a small bubble in her gum. She tilted her head in contemplation, letting him listen to her chew for a moment.

“I reckon some asshole must’ve overheard us planning it or something and decided to to make it a free-for-all. You of all people should know how college kids are. Apparently they made posters and everything.”

“Why do you think you got taken to the library? Why not the other location?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Zahra scoffed. She doubted that the location was that significant - unless this was some roundabout way to traumatise them into not going there? Which was kinda ridiculous. The composition of the groups... well, it might have had more impact, but figuring that shit out wasn’t her job. “Maybe the people assigned to library duty have a grudge against me. Maybe it was just random. Track the creeps down and ask them.”

“You say someone was ‘murdered’ in front of you… and none of you tried to stop it? Why?”

Zahra barked a sardonic laugh. “I’m flattered by your faith in us, sir.” The honey coating her words made the condescension a little more veiled. She wasn’t really trying to antagonise him that much, but this was a ridiculous question. She leaned forward to rest clasped hands on the table in front of her, catching his eyes again. “It was fast and unexpected - we didn’t even have the opportunity to do anything. And, I don’t know if you’ve ever been abducted, threatened, and trapped but we were terrified. All that, then two people are stabbed in front of us? Trying to take on the people with knives seemed like a stupid fucking move. Respectfully.”

“You said the last - shall we call it a ‘challenge’? - required you to spill a secret. Insinuates the lot of you are keeping them, doesn’t it? So… what is so sacred to you that someone you’re claiming is a psychopath would want you to share it?”

“Everyone’s got secrets. I’m sure you do.” And it’s funny that you think anyone would spill their bullshit in a recorded conversation when those secrets are already being used to blackmail us. “And how much they matter to me doesn’t really matter considering the whole psychopath thing, does it? Like, I could have embarrassing first grade photos out there and a weirdo would probably think that’s sacred enough to try and use them to mess with me. Knowing secrets is probably just an excuse to screw with us.” She gave a dismissive shrug, blowing another bubble in her gum so another pop would punctuate her statement. “Are we done here?” she asked as she stood up, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got places to be and, all due respect, you’re not the police.”

[riaflicke]

The saying went something like, monsters are created not born. And that was exactly how Ria Flicke felt about the demon - or demons, plural, depending on the day - inside of her. It wasn’t always dark, but it was fed enough that it grew and grew until she didn’t know what it felt like to not have the darkness inside of her.

Some of the creation was self-inflicted. It wasn’t like she knew how to walk away from a bad situation or how to let the light win out, no, she let the darkness win and that was her own fault. Over the past few months of alone time and wrestling with questions and curiosities, she managed to figure out how and where the darkness was cultivated, fed and nurtured by the people that were meant to protect her.

AUGUST 17th, 2010, FAIRFIELD, CONNECTICUT (14 years old)

Move in day for Faircrest Preparatory School. Day one of one million of learning to be a spy. Mariana thought that it would be a good idea for Leon to drive Ria to move in. After all, he worked at Faircrest, and she thought it’d be good for the younger Flicke to finally get to know her father. 

Needless to say, it did not get off to a good start. Ria knew two things: her mother was cryptic about her father and the only way to get adults to pay attention to her was to be annoying. And she had lots of questions for Leon which meant she would be extra annoying. 

“Don’t put your feet up there,” Leon turned over to his daughter, who had perched her feet on the all white car dash. “You’re going to get it dirty.” “What?” Ria didn’t dignify him with even a glance, she instead focused on picking a scab on her calf. “Maria-” “Ria.” “Maria,” Leon huffed, “Take your feet off the dash or we’re not leaving this driveway… What did you do to yourself anyway?” “Fell off my bike.” “Don’t you know how to ride a bike?” Picking at the scab until she got it to bleed again (because it definitely made her dad cringe), “Yes. I let go.” “Why?” “It made mom freak out.” She finally moved her feet from the dash, pleased with the furrowed brow her father now had. “And why in the world would you want to do that?” Leon asked in a deadpan tone, clearly frustrated with his daughter’s antics. “It proved mom cares. Somewhere. She got worried.”

The frustration on Leon’s face morphed into one of pride, but in the blink of an eye it was back to neutral. “You’re already thinking like a spy. What has your mother taught you so far?” “Nothing, I’ve known for all of like, three months.” “Alright. Well, we have about six hours ahead of us-” “Joy.” “Don’t interrupt me, Maria. I can’t have my daughter not knowing anything about spyhood. You’re already starting Faircrest at a disadvantage.”

That spoke to the competitive side of Ria and all, but she thought that this ride would be a way to get to know the man she’d wondered about for years. “You’re going to spend six hours talking to me about spy stuff and not like… anything about me?” “I didn’t say that. Anyways, I’ll see you all year on campus, we have plenty of time to get to know each other.” “Ooookay. Weird, but, fine, talk to me about your spy life or whatever…” Her voice trailed off into silence.

Leon glanced over at her, “What were you about to say?” Chewing on her bottom lip, Ria was silent for a little longer before speaking up. “I wanted to ask you a question.” “Fine, ask it then.” “Do you love me?” The words sounded sharp to hide the fear inside. “I don’t know.” Sitting up straighter, the blonde’s face dropped, “How do you not know? I’m your daughter.” “We just met.” “So?” “So,  I need time to decide.” “Do you think you ever will?” “We’ll see.” And he wouldn’t. ‘I love you’ were three words he’d never say. “Fine… Tell me about this spy shit.” “Language.”

JUNE 8th, 2010, FAIRFIELD, CONNECTICUT (17 years old) Whether she wanted to listen to her father or not (spoiler: she didn’t!), Ria wanted to be top of her class. Success was something she could control. Success gave her purpose. Success made it all worth it. So as much as she hated Leon Calder with everything in her being, she kept note of all of his rules and the subsequent tests and trials in a tiny leather bound notebook. It was a pale pink, embossed with “Maria” on the cover - which she had since scratched up with pens and keys until it only read Ria.

With graduation on the corner - and a four year break from spyhood (her parents hated that one) on the horizon - she flicked through the pages, a walk down a very bumpy memory lane.

Rule 1: Control the conversation What’s it mean: - Have conviction in what you say - Stand by your words, even if they’re questionable - Don’t get stuck in webs of lies - Take pride in attention - good or bad - throws people off their game when you embrace an insult

Rule 2: Head not heart What’s it mean: - Don’t lead with emotions ever - Look at things logically bc that’s trustworthy, emotions are fickle - Tears are weakness - avoid at all costs!!!

8/30/10 - first week @ faircrest, dad got me a xanax prescription. told me it’s better to feel nothing than something. haven’t tried it yet 2/1/12 - (middle of soph. year.) - i think i’m addicted  4/29/14 - i’m graduating in 2 months. Idk how to feel bc i don’t think i’ve felt anything in four years. 8/2/14 - i don’t trust my own head

Rule 3: Don’t have a blindspot What’s it mean: - Falling in love means youre caught up in another person - Getting caught up in another person is a weak point - A lover will betray you or will be used against you - Lust =/= love, lust is ok.

11/1/13 - i don’t think ive cared about a single person ive slept with. like at all.

Rule 4: Know what you’re walking into What’s it mean: - Awareness is key - Evaluate every situation in full - ALWAYS keep your guard up or you’ll get backstabbed

12/21/10 - was @ home for christmas, dad snuck up behind me and threw a knife. i ducked in time. said i need to get better at awareness. Wtf.

After twenty or so blank pages, one page of the notebook had a few words written on it in all capitals. They were written more cleanly than the notes and scribbles of yesteryear, clearly written by an older Ria with stronger penmanship.

I THINK IM A MONSTER.

SEPTEMBER THROUGH NOVEMBER, 2020, ROSEVILLE, VA (24 years old)

The fires the year prior had been the first time that Ria remembered crying in over ten years. Something cracked inside of her as the buildings and all she’d used to ground herself started to fall and crackle apart. It was what pushed her to look inside of her. To know why she held so tightly onto the lessons and learnings from two people that couldn’t care less about her. It was what sent her to therapy. 

There were no diagnoses to be found, apart from a self-inflicted dependence on unhealthy relationships and her vices. She lacked the remorse and violence to be a psychopath, and she didn’t have the swings of anger that hallmarked aggression disorders. What was there instead was a shell, a guard that presented itself as sociopathy - but she knew what she was doing, she had remorse, that was where the questions began. How could you display every trait in the book but be ‘normal’ inside? 

The revelation of Blackthorne as a school for assassins had opened up even more of a can of worms, but she ignored it until the start of her third year, as she continued to try and understand what was going on inside of her head. Leon had gone to Blackthorne, yet the alumni didn’t seem to recognize his name. Something was up.

With the help of one of her Faircrest friends, Tobi, she was able to find more on her father. More on his employment records and his history. He’d begun going by his middle name after graduating Blackthorne, Leon Calder instead of Malcolm Calder. Hardly a criminal offense. He had a cross listing with the MI5 (expected, she knew her parents met in London) and a private agency ‘Atkinson Associates’. Further digging revealed it as a hitman agency, one that her father was still actively employed with. 

Once she had that, and access to the files of the company, she went to dig on her own - not wanting to pull anyone else deeper into the mess. The employee roster and files were what she really wanted. Clicking on her father’s, she read through the notes, feeling a gross pit building in her stomach as she learned more. Kill count: 117. Use for: High profile, quickturn jobs. Works both individually and with partners.

Noting that the word partners was linked, Ria clicked on it, skimming quickly over unknown names until she settled on the name of a former partner. One she knew too well. Mariana Alice Flicke.

“No…. no no no…” But she couldn’t stop, she had to know more about her mother. Kill count: 2. Use for: Track erasure and evidence destruction. 

She didn’t know if it made her feel better or worse that her mother was typically non-violent… Even if she condoned the violence. Blue eyes kept scanning the profile of her mom. Employment Terminated: September 30, 1995 Reason: Pregnancy.

“No wonder he hates me so fucking much.” She took Mariana out of the field, she took his partner away… But that wasn’t her fault! Hovering over the word pregnancy, Ria’s brow furrowed. Another link. There was no reason that needed to be linked. Everyone knew how pregnancy worked!

After a long stare off with the link, she finally clicked on it. The curiosity eating away at her. It pulled up what looked like an incomplete profile, one with nothing but the key statistics. And she didn’t even need to read them, they were ones she knew by heart. Name: Maria Grace Flicke Date of Birth: June 6, 1996 Start Date: To Be Determined.

She wanted to stop scrolling, but her hand kept moving, the answers were finally there. Whether she liked them or not. 

Current Status: 

Atkinson Associates Case study 001.:  Nature versus Nurture

- Developing the mindset of an assassin from day one - Utilizing upbringing to control later characteristics, thought processes, and disposition

None of her mania was an accident. It was all part of a bigger plan that she never wanted to be a part of. Each demon was planted inside of her by the people that were supposed to love her most.

And the only way she could deal with this was to let out an ear-piercing wail.

[bungeegumsurprise]

Fire force request

Can I request a story with Karim with reader on their first date?(or something else lol)

Thank you?

A/N: I was giggling to myself like a giddy little schoolgirl while I wrote this. I am not ashamed XD I hope you enjoy!

(Oneshot) AU! But First, Our First First Date: Karim Flam x Reader

Karim possessed all the polar opposite of qualities that you looked for in a boyfriend.

He was THE ass’s ass to the people he was meeting for the first time, short-tempered, and always happened to be conveniently sporting a seriously long stick of serious seriousness up his butt whenever someone cracked a lame joke.

So how did you end up outside in the middle of Tokyo’s sweltering Summer, standing in a field of dead grass with that very same man?

You remembered how your best friend Hibana, who also happened to be the sole female owner of the popular club that featured only the best exotic male dancers-or how she preferred to call them as “gravel,” that was across the street from your workplace, successfully lured you into what would be the last blind date you ever went on.

Every time you and Hibana met up for drinks after work, she couldn’t stop going on about a guy that she’d known since they were kids because his family happened  to live in the house next to hers, that was also totally into you.

Though her description of him when they first met was, “The annoying brat had the nerve to call my beautiful plump breasts fake, and poked them with a random dirty stick he found on the side of the street. The cocky little thing turned his head off to the side with an unamused look on his face when I threatened to barrage him with my “clematis,” and smirked at me after saying, ‘You don’t have the balls to do it, or should I say, the breasts to do it. You faking fake faker.’”

Her pink pupils looked like she had used her powers to set them on fire from the way she swore to get her revenge on him someday.

But Hibana being Hibana, she didn’t think it was necessary to tell you that the one she was setting you up with, was the tall man with an athletic build, that had an undercut of black hair and a semi-long dark bluish-gray fringe he kept combed towards the front. Not to mention he was also the young bartender that had been working at her club since it opened a few years back, that you couldn’t stand to be sitting next to for than five minutes without wanting to set him flying out the window with your third-generation pyrokinetic powers, who went by the name of Karim Flam.

 -

You had finished getting ready for your blind date after closing your flower shop for the night and walked across the street to head over to Hibana’s club to meet your date.

You walked past the parking lot that was at its usual full capacity and to the front of the long line of people waiting to get in.

“Hey (Y/N), Hibana tells me you have a hot date tonight. Didn’t you say you’d run off to another country, change your name, and live in a cabin somewhere far away in a mountain where no man could ever find you?” The club’s bouncer Obi greeted with a playful smile and unclasped the gold steel clip from the matching pole to pull back the red velvet rope, “But I think this one might be a keeper. I’ve worked with for a while now and the kid’s alright. Horrible sense of humor, but makes a killer martini.” Obi immediately sucked his lips inwards and shifted his eyes back and forth in panic, realizing he had said too much.

You narrowed your eyes at a nervously sweating Obi that held the dark blue door open, “Obi-“you said almost like you were scolding him, and stood on your toes leaning forward to meet his eyes. “Don’t tell me Hibana set me up with him-“

“I swear, it’s not him! I know how much you two hate each other; I promise!” He nervously laughed as you descended your heels back onto the ground, taking a few steps past him and stopping before you walked in.

“Well, if it does turn out that you’re lying, and Hibana finds out that you slipped up and spoiled the surprise that she worked so hard to plan…” He gulped. “Well, I guess I’ll just wish you good luck now just in case she feels like having one of her gravel parades.” You innocently feigned, and patted his shoulder as you entered.

Obi’s shoulders relaxed, “Whew. I almost told her it was Karim. Hibana wouldn’t let me live it down or let me live at all if (Y/N) found out.”

The music continued to boom in your ears as you maneuvered your way through the tight crowds of bodies dancing under the flashing lights and met Hibana at the bar.

“(Y/N)!” She yelled, greeting you with an embrace as you sat onto one of the tall red bar stools next to hers. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“You wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t!” You laughed, giving her a knowing look.

“Will it be the usual?” The current bartender on shift, Benimaru, asked before turning around to the machine of fountain drinks.

“Thanks Beni,” as he pulled the front end of the white towel he kept on his shoulder, wiping off that soda that sprayed onto the outside of the glass, and placed it on the table with a coaster.

You took a long sip of the chilled glass filled with vanilla coke and crushed ice, through the black straw. “Are you sure about this one Hibana?” You turned towards her, “Because the last guy you said was “into me,” the one that you completely “forgot” was also a wanted criminal, was a total psychopath! How did you forget the face of the man who was revealed to be not only a trained assassin, but also worked as the hitman for that lunatic Joker, when the name “Takehisa Hinawa,” was plastered on every wanted flyer and every news broadcast all over Tokyo just a few months prior?”

You eyed the woman sitting next to you who preferred to dress in a mid-thigh length, light pink satin slip dress that was two shades lighter than her shoulder-length hair, against her beautifully tanned skin, along with a pair of white stilettos, at any given time of the day. From her track record, you felt seriously unconvinced that Hibana wouldn’t be setting you up with yet another dangerous man, as you stirred the straw around the inside of the glass.

Hibana took a sip from the crystal glass filled with whiskey, “Well he’s not dangerous, or anywhere near skilled enough to be a criminal, I can tell you that much.”

“That’s not a lot-actually, that’s nothing to go on. Can’t you just tell me who it is already?”

“My shift’s over Hibana,” Benimaru interrupted as he wiped off his hands on a towel and pushed past the counter’s swinging door.

“Perfect timing, you’re date’s here! You can keep me company as I finish my drink, Beni.” Hibana got off the stool and hurriedly pushed a grumpy looking Beni towards the main part of the club.

“Don’t call me Beni, you fiend of a woman!”

“Wait, Hibana! Where are you-“ You reached your hand out but was instead met face to face with your date that was about to start his shift.

Your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger to the person you had a hunch but prayed that you were wrong about. “You-!”

“Ugh, don’t tell me-That Hibana-“ He smoothed a hand over his annoyed face before walking behind the counter.

“Why did I have a feeling that it was you?” You sighed and took another sip of your drink. “I’m leaving,” as you dug in your purse and placed the money for your drink under the coaster before slipping on the strap of your purse and sliding off the stool. “Just tell Hibana I wasn’t feeling well and went home before you got here,” you turned around and waved a lazy hand.

“Hey wait a second!” Karim reached over the counter and grasped the back of your forearm, “I’m the one that asked Hibana to set me up with you,” Karim confessed as he released his hold on your arm when you paused for a brief moment before turning back around.

You looked him in the eyes and sighed. “Is this a joke Karim? You and I both know we can’t stand to be in the same room with one another without losing our tempers. You’ve hated me since the moment we met, so tell me Karim. Why am I here?” Your eyes followed his that looked downwards at the floor lost in deep thought, doubtful that whatever he said could change how you felt towards each other.

He breathed, “I’m not good at expressing how I feel with my words. They always get misunderstood and don’t come out the way I mean them to,” as you stood stilled in disbelief but allowed him to finish.

“I have a habit of putting up my guard whenever I first meet someone. You know the thing about Rekka, I’ve been like this ever since; and I guess the reason I’m always being sarcastic and tease you a lot, is because I’m comfortable around you. Even though we argue a lot, you’ve never once looked at me like the culprit.”

“So, that’s your reason?” Karim looked back up at you confused.

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t your fault for Rekka ending up the way that he did. You tried your best to save him, and at the end of the day, that’s all we can do,” as Karim gave you a saddened half smile.

“And! If you wanted a date, why didn’t you just ask me? Why go through all the trouble of making Hibana brag about you and drag me here?” You slightly tilted your head and waited for his answer.

“Because! I thought you’d turn me down, and by the time I realized I should’ve asked you myself, it was too late. It didn’t matter how much I begged her to help me, she wouldn’t help unless I paid an amount equal to the gravel I was or some crap, so I let her take whatever she wanted from my paycheck. I was going to ask you out last week and when I told Hibana I wanted my money back, she said she already blew the money from half my paycheck on some stupid shoes.”

“Pft-“ You both looked to each other for a moment before laughing at the same time, “That’s Hibana before you. There’s no refunds when you offer her money to do anything.” You shook your head at your best friend who still acted like the child from when you first met.

Karim rubbed the back of his neck, “I know. There’s no coming between that woman and her shoes. I’m pretty stupid right?”

“I think that might’ve been the first honest thing you’ve said today,” you joked.

“Then here’s the second most honest thing I’ve said today, I like you (Y/N). Will you go out with me?”

You purposely hesitated for a second longer just to see his cocky smile waver the slightest, “Yes.”

“What took you so long woman! Geez, you were about to give me a heart-attack!”

 A Few Days Later

“Can you tell me what we’re doing out here Karim?” You felt like you were going to melt into a human puddle for how unbearably hot it was outside, “It’s in the middle of freaking Summer. It’s too hot!”

Karim chuckled as he unzipped the large bag he was lugging around on his shoulder the entire way and pulled out his special instrument, “I want you to aim the biggest ball of your flames at me.”

You looked at him bewildered. “Is all this sun going to your head?”

He pulled his earphones over his ears, “Come on, just do it. Trust me!” as he positioned himself.

You had no idea what he was planning, “O-okay, here goes!” as you took a deep breath summoning your flames that started out as a spinning sphere that instantly expanded into something of a giant burning meteor, and raised it over your head as you launched it at Karim with all your might.

You watched as Karim held his ground and waited for the perfect moment for his instrument to inhale in all the fire as he rung his bell loudly. The sounds waves from the bell fluctuated the air in your flames, the heat expanding and compressing within the valves of his instrument repeatedly, and when the sound waves expanded, it drastically changed the temperature of your flames by cooling it  down.

A frigid gust of wind blew as your fire extinguished and you waited not knowing what to expect. You could hear the sound within the instrument stiffening as Karim aimed the other end of his instrument towards the ground.

“I heard you’d never gone ice-skating!” He called from the other side of the field.

You grinned, “I haven’t!” You watched in awe as the brown grass beneath you froze over into a giant field of solid ice to form your own personal ice rink.

Karim happily smiled as he ran around the rink towards you while holding two pairs of skates. “How’s this as our first officially official first date?”

[stranger-writer]

A Bowers’ Bet (Part 3)

Sorry for the long wait on this one! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: When Henry and Patrick make a twisted pact on who can steal Derry High’s most inexperienced student’s virginity first, they think it will be their most exciting game yet. But what happens when one starts to develop feelings, while the other is determined as ever to win, no matter what or who is standing in their way? A Bowers Bet (Part 2)

On Saturday morning, Juliet’s parents left for an overnight for one of her father’s business trips. Her mom typically went along with him, but only if it consisted of a night or two and if Jennifer’s mother was going along as well. Juliet met her close friend Jennifer through their dads since they both worked for the same company. Their families were persistent in upholding their respectable, high status in Derry. Jennifer’s mom, Theresa, was a lawyer, a very dignified woman that Juliet quite admired. However in Jennifer’s case, having two successful parents who were hardly ever home meant coping with her loneliness by excessively and maybe even purposely, using her parent’s credit card when they were gone. 

Juliet knew a shopping trip was in order, Jennifer always planned one whenever both parents were out of town. Even though the two girls have been best friends for years, their personalities couldn’t be any more polar opposite. Jennifer’s track record of guys is impressive while Juliet’s is clean, Jennifer cheerleads while Juliet is in literary club, Jennifer is the life of the party while Juliet has only been to two in her lifetime. But that’s kind of what makes their friendship work. They each have a tendency of balancing each other out and sometimes bringing out different side to them that no one would expect.

Juliet has the devil on her right shoulder and the angel on her left as she sat in the car with Jennifer, deciding if she should tell her about Henry or just keep her mouth shut. Deep down she knew what her reaction would be, but maybe if she explained everything from the poem and how wonderful last night went, she’d understand. Although at the moment, Jennifer was much too preoccupied with going on and on about how Gretta was sabotaging her by making the cheer team wear their hair entirely up instead of having the option to do half up, half down.

“The whole school is going to see my huge fucking dumbo ears because she needs the attention taken off of her horrendous overbite,” Jennifer hisses before changing the radio station. Juliet quietly chuckles at her as the only sound between them is the low hum of Mick Jagger and the harsh wind from the windows being slightly open.

 “You’re quiet,” Jennifer states in her typical blunt manner, eyes on the road, being able to read Juliet without even having to look at her. 

“No I’m not,” Juliet defends, staring out the window, knowing if she as much glances towards her direction she’ll crack.

“Juliet we have known each other since we were eight. At this point, I know you almost better than I know myself. Tell.” 

Juliet slowly turns her head towards her while biting down on her lip, trying to hide her immense blushing and smirk just from the thought of Henry before letting out a soft giggle. Jennifer begins to gasp, knowing the look on Juliet’s face means only one thing. “Stop it right now! Who’s the guy?!” Jennifer rushes, her eyes widening with pure anticipation.

“Well...,” Juliet hums smiling, causing Jennifer to slightly swerve the car a little too far to the right.  

“Juliet,” Jennifer warns in her typical voice that means “stop beating around the bush and say it.” 

“W-well it’s just like, Ugh-I don’t know, i-it’s nothing serious yet, but-”

“For fucks sake Juliet, I hate when you stutter like that kid Bill Denbrough, just spit it out,” Jennifer demands, her patience running thin.

“I went on a date last night with Henry Bowers,” Juliet responds, causing Jennifer to slam on her brakes in the middle of the neighborhood, causing Juliet’s body to be yanked to the point where she almost got rammed into the glove compartment. “Jesus Jennifer,” Juliet scolds, rubbing the back of her neck from the sudden jolt she experienced from the abrupt stop of the car.

“Henry Bowers?” Jennifer pronounces the name slowly, her tone in disbelief mixed with a whole lot of judgement and well, repugnance. “Have you lost your mind? You were too scared to ask the waiter for ketchup last week, but you went on a date with Henry fucking Bowers? Please tell me you only went because he had you held up at gunpoint.”

Juliet knew how unbelievable it sounded coming out of her mouth, but how could she convince her that it was one of the best times out she’s ever had?

“I get it. I know his reputation, but he’s-he’s different, I swear, he-”

“God Juliet, don’t be so naive,” Jennifer interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Henry is known as Derry’s scum for a reason. He’s dirty. He’s gross. And even worse,” Jennifer pauses, her nose scrunching in disgust, “He’s poor.”

Juliet’s fingers begin to rub her temples in distress, immediately regretting her decision of even mentioning Henry to her in the first place. Jennifer finally takes her foot off the brakes and continues driving, but her rant was far from over. “I mean come on Jules, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. That whole gang is fucked up. They only flirt with girls like you for one reason.” Jennifer states, having a hard time deciphering how she should choose her words without being a little too brutally honest.

Juliet snaps her eyes away from the passing houses from the window and swung her head to face her. “And what’s that?” Juliet persists defensively, her eyes piercing at Jennifer.

Jennifer huffs, her stare intent while looking out onto the road contemplating what to say next. “Because you’re an easy target,” Jennifer murmurs, her voice low, but more calm. “You have never been seen at school with a boyfriend or really any guy for that matter and they can smell your inexperience from a mile away. He’s using you. I’m sorry, but guys like Henry don’t fall for girls like you.”

Juliet could feel some tears begging to break loose, but she pushes the feeling aside. “You mean girls who are at the bottom of the school’s hierarchy?”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You’re beautiful and smart and kind and deserve somebody better than Bowers. I’m just telling you his intentions can’t be good. Him and the other ones hit on every girl that has a pulse,” Jennifer responds, sticking an unlit cigarette in her mouth before she continues on and says, “They see someone shy and untouched like you giving them a chance and go fucking ecstatic.”

“That’s not true,” Juliet mutters, shaking her head in defense while staring down at her hands nestled on top of her lap. “Henry told me he would never hurt me and that I was safe with him.” There was a part of Juliet that could feel herself sounding like one of those girls she would roll her eyes at in a cheesy romance movie. Was it honestly too good to be true?

“I know you try to live your life trying not to be noticed, but guess what? You are. People see you. Henry sees you. He sees someone fragile, someone who he thinks he can easily control and manipulate.” Jennifer responds before taking a puff of her cigarette.

“You are always telling me how I should loosen up and try to put myself out there more, and now you’re giving me shit for finally going out with someone?” Juliet chides, her voice slightly raising. Juliet could tell she was getting irritated because she started talking not only loudly, but with her hands.

“Yeah Juliet, but that wasn’t secret code for me telling you to go out with the school’s biggest psychopath and not even tell me about it beforehand. What the fuck were you thinking?” Jennifer scolds, her tone harsh, making Juliet recoil in her seat. An awkward and tension-filled silence immerses in the car, causing the two close friends to suddenly feel distant.

Jennifer finally breaks the stillness and says, “Look. We’re going to the mall. Let’s get you a cute outfit for Gretta’s party tonight and you can come with me and you’ll see that you’re more than capable of meeting someone who isn’t a total delinquent.”

Juliet wanted nothing more than to decline her offer that sounded like a demand than an option, but it’s bad enough she had to keep Henry from her mother, she didn’t need Jennifer added onto the list and on her case about it as well. She thought maybe if she just went for a bit and pretended for Jennifer’s sake, she’d make everyone happy.

“Fine,” Juliet huffs, slouching back in her seat while crossing her arms.

Juliet is used to having to deal with what life throws at her alone. Between having a mother and best friend who shares similar traits of being dismissive and controlling, she felt like she was always more worried about pleasing other people instead of worrying about what actually made her happy. Henry gave Juliet a certain kind of attention that she wasn’t used to receiving from anyone. He made her feel understood, special, pretty enough, smart enough, but most importantly, Henry made Juliet feel like being herself was good enough. Juliet wasn’t going to let anybody get in the way of that. Not this time.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The last party Juliet attempted going to was last December. Similar to now, Jennifer begged and convinced her how much of a good time it’d be until it resulted in Tyler Brian barfing all over Juliet’s lap mid-conversation. She can only hope that history won’t repeat itself.

The black dress Jennifer picked for her was slightly sexy, but not too much to where it strayed far from Juliet’s character. The sweetheart neckline was cute with a very tiny black bow that was attached right in the middle. It was also a quarter sleeve and babydoll style. Jennifer pleaded that she wear heels, however, Juliet absolutely refused because she didn’t want to meet anyone new in the first place and her leather black booties would go just fine with it. To no surprise, Jennifer handled not only her wardrobe, but makeup too. She blushed and hollowed out her cheekbones, glossed her lips, and applied some cat eyeliner to enhance her eye shape, which surprisingly Juliet liked, even if she did still have to wear her glasses over them. 

Juliet’s knee was uncontrollably bouncing up and down the whole ride there. She could already hear the music blaring from outside before they even drove up to the house. Her heart almost jumped in her throat though when she saw the infamous Trans Am parked in the sea of cars that were in Gretta’s driveway, causing her leg to stop shaking. Oh no. As soon as Jennifer parked along the sidewalk, she turned the ignition off and began clapping her hands fast in an excited way. “We’re here! You ready?”

No.

“Yeah!” Juliet exclaims in her best, fake eager voice she could muster.

When they walked inside the large, red brick house, Juliet immediately sees a staircase decorated with people from school either talking, smoking, or making out. Her eyes shift to the left where it was the Keene’s living room, but was currently being occupied as a dance floor flooded with sweat, alcohol, and hormones.

Juliet didn’t want to admit to herself that she couldn’t help but feel somewhat paranoid Henry was here. Would he be happy to see her? Confused? Angry? “Let’s go grab a drink,” Jennifer yells in Juliet’s ear because of the blaring music, interrupting her thoughts. Juliet nods as they walk down the hall to where more couples were lingering on the sides of the wall, kissing.  

When Jennifer walked into the kitchen, she was immediately greeted by Gretta and a few other girls as well as a group of boys who hollered at her as soon as she stepped in. Juliet lingered by her side.

It wasn’t hard for Juliet to not feel Gretta’s typical judgemental stare as she eyed her up and down. Moments like this was the reason why Juliet would never want to be able to read minds. “Interesting seeing you here Juliet,” Gretta sneers in a tone that could only be described as condescending and then says, “Nice dress. For once it doesn’t look like something your grandmother picked out.” This causes a fit of giggles from her posse that are attached at her hip.

“Nice frizzy ponytail that you wear every single day,” Jennifer quickly intervenes before grabbing Juliet’s hand to lead her near the sink where all the glass bottles of drinks were laid out. “Your ability to be quick on the spot never fails to impress me,” Juliet smirks while nudging her shoulder with hers, earning a wink from Jennifer.

“Here,” Jennifer offers, handing Juliet a red solo cup. “It’ll ease the nerves,” she grins with a mischievous glint in her eyes before taking a sip. Juliet gave her a small smile, deciding it would be best to at least try it. Her eyebrows raise immediately at the strong concoction Jennifer mixed together, deciding it would be best to not finish this unless she wants to be found blacked out on the front lawn.

“Shots time!” Peter Macintosh shouted, his cheeks flushed from what was most likely the high amount of alcohol he has already consumed. He was a heavy set guy, who for some reason always looked sweaty and wore his jersey pretty much everyday. He was only useful on the team for his size since he could tackle just about anyone. This was Juliet’s que to relocate elsewhere for a few minutes.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick,” Juliet says while lightly grasping Jennifer’s arm.

“Use the one upstairs. The bathroom that’s down the hall is always where Tommy Johnson and Pam Kirkland are fucking each other’s brains out,”Jennifer informs, physically shuddering at the thought of when she had accidentally interupted one of their sessions last time.

“Good to know,” Juliet chuckles, shaking the vivid thought away before nudging her way through the intoxicated crowd that was beginning to form. Once she reached the staircase and begins walking up them, she couldn’t help the strange feeling like someone had their eyes on her.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Any fucking time now Criss,” Henry huffs, waiting for Vic to hand him a cigarette while he was pulling one out of his pack. He was in his usual, typical annoyed stance with his arms crossed while leaning against the house, impatient as ever. Him, Patrick, Vic, and Belch were huddled outside on the back patio smoking, each with a beer bottle in their hands. 

Casey Fletcher walked by them and Belch couldn’t help but turn around to get another last glance at her ass before turning back around to face his friends. “Is it just me or is there a lot of hot chicks here tonight?” Belch asks, swigging his beer back.

Vic nodded, seeming to still be mesmerized at Casey’s backside as Henry only shrugged. Belch and Patrick give each other a knowing look, seeing how that reaction wasn’t a normal one for Henry. This would be the part where he agreed and told them what he’d like to do with a girl who had an ass like that. But tonight he was off and they could all tell.

“What’s the matter Bowers, don’t see a bitch here we can share like last week?” Patrick taunts. Henry rolls his eyes, remembering the dumb blonde girl whose name he didn’t even know because well, he didn’t even ask. She wanted to take turns which resulted in Patrick having his first go and once he was finished he tossed her right over to Henry.

“All I see are a bunch of easy sluts who try too hard,” Henry utters under his breath, checking briefly over the girls who are standing on the other side of the pool who were unshamefully giving, as the gang would call it, their best “fuck me” eyes. 

Vic snickers before he mumbles, “Somebody’s whipped,” causing a breathy chuckle from Belch and Patrick.

“The fuck you say?” Henry asked, but it was in fact a warning.

“He said your whipped man,” Patrick responds for Vic before he continues and says, “Pretty little Juliet most have swept ole Henry here off his feet. Awh, how sweet is that?” This causes an amused reaction out of the boys. Patrick knew what he was doing. He wanted to get a rise out of Henry. He wanted to edge him on. Rile him up. Make him do something that could work out in his favor. 

“I ain’t fucking whipped alright. Has anyone forgotten that she’s just a fuckin’ bet? All I got from last night is that she’s just another needy bitch with mommy issues who’ll jump at the chance to spread her legs if it means adding some excitement to her boring life,” Henry responds, the words tasting disgusting coming out of his own mouth. He didn’t mean what he said, but he refuses to have his friends, especially Patrick, thinking she has even in the slightest, meddled her way into his stone cold heart.

Patrick however, knows his bluff. He hid in the woods and eavesdropped last night when Juliet and him were in the treehouse. He knew that she in fact wasn’t exactly easy considering she freaked the minute Bowers touched the waistband of her panties, but secondly, he knew Henry opened up a bit about his dad to her. Patrick couldn’t tell if that was a ploy to get her to feel bad for him or if he was being genuine. However his lack of eagerness to get any action tonight is evident that Henry might in fact be developing the worst F word in his book. Feelings. 

“Sounding a little cocky there Bowers,” Patrick responds, crossing his arms over his chest.

Henry laughs before saying, “Says you. At this point you should honestly just call the fucking bet off. She was all over me last night and I think she's made it clear that she wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole. Face it Hockstetter, I’ll have her underneath me by next week.”

If Patrick wasn’t certain before, he is definitely certain now. He could see what Henry was trying to do. Persuading him to call the bet off so he can walk away hands clean with the girl who he thought was just another mediocre virgin to fuck in Derry. No. As far as Patrick is concerned, Juliet belongs to him. Henry can try to convince Patrick all he wants that he has no chance, but he remembers that look Juliet gave him in the movie theater. He sees how she’s into Henry regardless of his well known, fucked up reputation. Henry and him were one in the same. Patrick knows the kind of girl Juliet is. She’s attracted to people who are broken, people who need to be fixed. That’s the only reason why she instantly fell for Henry first, because she thinks there’s hope for him. Patrick has no problem playing his part until she sees the truth.

“If you think she’ll easily fuck you first then why call the bet off early? Isn’t that the whole point why we made it in the first place?” Patrick retorted, his cheshire grin growing from ear to ear. Henry could hear the teasingness in his tone and realized that Patrick could sense what he was trying to get at, so Henry attempted to play it off the best way he could. “I’m just sayin.’ You got a lot of catching up to do Hockstetter. Thought I’d be nice and give you a little warning to save you from the embarrassment later,” Henry smirks while patting him on the back.

“I appreciate that,” Patrick responds, reciprocating the action by giving Henry’s shoulder a friendly pat, but instead he doesn’t release his shoulder and pulls him in closer, his mouth inches away from his ear. “But the only one who’s going to be embarrassed here is you when I’m balls deep inside your little girlfriend’s tight virgin pussy, wrecking her fucking insides.”

Henry has to physically bite his tongue on the right side of his mouth to prevent from attacking him on the spot. At the end of the day, Juliet is technically a bet that Henry conjured up in the first place. Henry couldn’t show any possession over her, no matter how much he likes her, no matter how crazy it drove him. He releases an amused huff, wishing he could actually drown him in the pool.

“But for now,” Patricks states, his tone a lot more uplifting as he wipes the shoulders of Henry’s jacket, “Let’s play with what we’ve got right here.” He grins, referring to one of the girls that was staring at them earlier with his pointer and middle finger.

Henry knew if he turned down the offer, he’d look like the biggest bitch of all time. What guy says no to pretty girls practically yearning to get any sort of attention from them? But the thing was that these girls weren’t Juliet. They didn’t look like her, act like her, or even laugh like her, but all Henry could do is play along and keep the twisted mentality that whatever Juliet doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

The brunette Patrick beckoned over, whose name was apparently Tracy, seemed to be the most interested in Henry, however, she was quite the talkative one. She wasn’t getting Henry’s not so subtle signs of disinterest in conversation as he responded to everything with a monotone one worded answer and the habitual way he continuously kept flicking his pocket knife in and out. Patrick and Vic actually got so bored they ended up ditching Henry and thought walking over to the other side of the lawn to watch a drunk Peter barbecue Doritos was a much better source of entertainment.

Patrick and Vic started to make their way back to Henry, Tracy, and Belch, passing the patio’s white french doors again until Vic’s clunky, black combat boots come to a stop. 

“Oh shit!” Vic busts out laughing, which causes Patrick to turn around and see what the hell was so funny. Patrick stalks slowly towards him and mimiks his stance. “Look who showed up,” Vic smirks right as Patrick sees Juliet on the other side of the clear glass door. He licks his lips, taking in her appearance. Her all black, short dress is enough for him to already feel a slight hard on in his jeans. Her hair was down and loose like usual, with her petite glasses still adorning her face, but the fact that she was wearing clothes that actually fit her and the more heavily applied makeup made the two boys have no choice but to gawk at her for a minute. 

“Damn. She looks hot,” Vic observed, crouching behind a bush so the two could have a closer look without their ogling being too obvious. “But I wonder what she’s doing here. I’ve never seen her at parties and I know Henry didn’t invite her.”

“I don’t know why the hell she’s here either Vic, but it must be my lucky fucking day,” Patrick mutters, staring at her intently. He could tell that regardless of how good she looked, she was uncomfortable. The way she kept glancing at the ground and the nervous way she was toying with her necklace was a clear sign that she didn’t wake up this morning and say “there’s nothing more I’d love to do today than go to a wild high school party.” Patrick felt sort of jealous, hating how he wasn’t behind the cause of her anxiety at the moment. Soon though.

“I gotta go tell Henry, he’s going to absolutely lose his shit,” Vic chuckles all giddy, getting ready to stand up before Patrick grabs him by the collar, yanking him harshly back down.

“Don’t say a word to him that she’s here or I’ll fucking cut your tongue out and make you wipe my ass with it. I want to see the look on that fucker’s face when he sees her here himself,” Patrick sternly warns, not wanting to tell Vic exactly what he has planned.

“Alright, Jesus I won’t. Let go of me dick bag,” Vic shrugs, nudging Patrick’s grip off him. Vic brushes the knees of his camo pants and starts to walk back towards Henry again. He couldn’t feel Patrick’s presence near him and his senses were proven right when he turns around and sees Patrick stepping into the house, closing the door behind him. Vic quietly snickered to himself, knowing it was only a matter of time before shit was about to hit the fan.  

When Patrick enters the house, he spots Juliet down the hall. He watches and follows behind her closely before she reaches the steps and carefully walks up the stairs while holding the banister. As soon as she gets to the top, that’s Patrick’s que to begin heading up there as well.

……………………………………………………………………………

Juliet started analyzing the Keene’s bathroom decorations, realizing exactly what she was starting to do. Quit stalling, she thought to herself before shaking her head and giving herself one last glance over in the mirror before opening the door.

As she was walking she heard what sounded like a muffled scream coming from one of the rooms on the right hand side. She stopped and slowly tiptoed her way closer to the door until Juliet heard a girl’s moaning and then it all clicked. Oh.

“Sounds like fun,” a voice says, making Juliet frantically spin around to see none other than Patrick Hockstetter.

“Patrick, hey! I didn’t see you there,” Juliet smiles nervously, having no clue how someone with his height can have this special talent to pop up out of nowhere.

“Listening in?” he questions with a smirk, the sound of the headboard banging into the wall now apparent.

“No! Oh, god no,” Juliet laughs, running a hand through her hair. “I was using the bathroom and came out and heard a girl screaming and got nervous for a sec, but uhm- yeah I, uhh, thinks she alright,” she chuckles, making Patrick simper from her innocent response.

“So what brings you here?” Patricks asks.

“I just told y-”

“No, I mean like the party. I’ve never seen you at any before,” Patricks states, leaning on the side of his shoulder and resting his head against the wall.

“Jennifer wanted me to go with her so I thought I’d just come for a little while,” Juliet explained, not wanting to get into detail as to why Jennifer insisted on her being here tonight.

“Henry didn’t invite you?” Patrick asks, his eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. Juliet shakes her head, feeling stupid that the boy she just went on a date with last night was at the same party, but she was trying to almost avoid him for reasons she didnt know why. 

“Huh. Weird,” Patrick quietly mutters under his breath. sliding his shoulder alongside the wall to inch closer to her. His response suddenly made Juliet feel self conscious. How come he didn’t ask her to go to Gretta’s party? Was he embarrassed of her? Maybe he knew she didn’t go to parties and thought it’d be stupid to even ask?

“You’re not having fun are you?” Patrick observes, a sly smile forming on his lips.

“I mean I’ve only been here for about fifteen minutes, 7 of those minutes I’ve spent in the bathroom so…” Jennifer bites down on her lip, suppressing a shy smirk which made it extremely difficult for Patrick to restrain himself from pushing her into one of the empty bedrooms. 

“Does Henry even know you’re here?” Patrick asks, and it’s like Juliet can feel he already knows the answer.

“No I haven’t seen him yet. Like I said, I really haven’t been here very long,” Juliet explains, twirling her necklace between her fingers. Patrick notices the nervous habit and begins to feel exhilarated.

“Well he’s right downstairs. Let’s go surprise him, he’ll be thrilled to see that you’re here, especially since I heard you two uhh...really kicked it off last night,” Patrick winks, grabbing her wrist and leading her down the rest of the hallway. Juliet felt confused in the way Patrick said that, but she couldn’t even think clearly with Patrick practically dragging her so fast that she almost tripped going down the staircase. Once they reached the bottom he motions for her to take the lead as he stands directly behind her. 

“Do you know where he is?”Juliet turns her head to ask him.

“Last I saw he was talking outside to some girl named Tracy,” Patrick responds casually, pretending to search for him in the living room, knowing exactly what he was doing. Juliet couldn’t help but feel the tiny pit in her stomach grow in size. She didn’t know if she was being completely played or acting totally crazy over a boy she has gone out with only one time. 

“C’mon. Maybe he’s still out back,” Patrick says in her ear before walking in front of her as she follows close behind. He opens one of the french doors and she takes in how there’s quite a lot of people out here as well. Between the ones hanging around the perimeter of the pool, or the guys to the far right playing some sort of drunk version of football, Juliet briefly glances around the area. That is, until her eyes suddenly land on Henry’s back. His arm is wrapped around some girl’s waist. She’s whispering something in his ear, causing Henry to smirk as he pulls her in closer, his mouth inches from hers as he says something Juliet can’t hear, but it causes her to start kissing down Henry’s neck.

Patrick notices Juliet has spotted them because of her obvious stare and her face that portrayed nothing but disappointment. “Well that’s not Tracy,” Patrick clears his throat as if what he’s witnessing is awkward, even though he’s the one who perfectly managed to make Juliet catch Henry in the act. 

Suddenly, Belch and Vic walk up to them, the look on their faces completely different. Vic’s was more friendly while Belch’s was full of concern.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun,” Vic mocks in his best shakespearean voice he can summon while giving a bow.

Juliet swallows her utter dismay and smiles at Vic. “Impressive,” she smirks, causing Vic to grin back at her. Belch interjects when he says, “Hey Juliet, Henry would be so happy to see you here. Let me go get him, I know he’s around here somewhere.” This was his poor attempt to try and cover Henry’s ass, but he knew in that moment it was most likely too late.

“No.” Juliet demands, her voice so stern that it almost surprises herself. The three boys gaze at her in a bit of a shock. “Let’s go say hi to him together,” Juliet offers, putting on a brave face. As much as Juliet just wanted to go home and cry in her room, she realized she was over everyone thinking she was like some china doll that’s could break easily. Her heart may feel broken but it was her mission in that moment to make sure no one saw the cracks.

“O-Okay,” Belch stutters, watching in bewilderment as Juliet takes heading towards Henry. The unknown girl is still draped all over him, but Juliet wasn’t annoyed at the poor girl having a good time. 

Once the three of them approach him, Juliet gently taps him on the shoulder, causing Henry to turn around. His initial face was of pure annoyance until he realizes who’s standing behind him. He quickly yanked his hand away from the blonde’s side and his mouth opened slightly, but no words were coming out.

“Juliet,” Henry observes, taking in her appearance while also in complete shock that’s she even standing in front of him in the first place. A million thoughts and questions were racing through his head, making for once, Henry Bowers actually speechless.

“Hi,” Juliet responds, her voice soft, deliberately acting like she was unfazed. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before the unknown girl helps breaks the ever present tension when she says to Juliet, “I love your dress! I almost bought the same one at the mall, but they didn’t have my size.”

“Thank you! My friend actually picked it out. You see, she wanted me to come to this party to meet someone because I went out with this guy last night who she thinks is a total waste of time. Told me I could do so much better,” Juliet looks so her eyes are now instead staring right into Henry’s. “Turns out she was right.” 

This results in a fit of breathy chuckles coming from Patrick and Vic while Juliet maintains her cool. Henry’s piercing blue eyes were like daggers into hers, but she never once glances down at the ground. Juliet gives him one last glare before turning swiftly around and walks straight back to the house. The most horrible and pathetic part of this whole situation was that there was a part of Juliet that wanted Henry to chase after her. Unfortunately, he never did. Juliet didn’t know why her heart was beating out of her chest or why the back of her neck felt slightly sticky or why she was breathing so hard, but she knew that she could not stay at this party for another second.

Patrick jogs after her, not wanting to lose her in the crazy crowds of people inside. When he steps into the kitchen, he quickly catches her wrist.

“Where ya goin’?” Patrick asks.

“I’m going home,” Juliet states, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Didn’t you come with Jennifer?”

“Yeah, but I actually live close by so I’m just going to walk,” Juliet responds while her eyes casually search the area for any signs of her best friend. Things were bad enough with Henry, the last thing she needed right now was for Jennifer to see her talking to Patrick Hockstetter of all people. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Patrick demands.

“You don’t need to do that Patrick, I’ll be okay,” Juliet tries to convince him.

“Sorry princess but I’m not taking no for an answer. Your face is too pretty to be on a missing person's poster downtown,” Patrick places his hand at the small of her back, using that as an advantage to guide her through the small crowd of people so they can reach the front door to leave. Juliet didn’t particularly want Patrick’s company, especially now, but he did have a decent point. 

“Okay, just let me find Jen to let her know I’m going,” Juliet explains before Patrick gives her a nod. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Juliet scouted through the living room first and luckily spots Jennifer on the couch, sitting on Ryan Novack’s lap. “I’m leaving,” Juliet states, making Jennifer get off the jock’s lap, analyzing her intently.

“What do you mean you’re leaving, we just got here.”

“I just don’t really feel that great and I think it’d be best if I went home,” Juliet lied, hoping Jennifer would be easy going. Hoping.

“First about Bowers and now this. Catching your little lying habit from your hillbilly boyfriend?” Jennifer hisses, crossing her tan arms over her chest. Juliet stares at her offensively before Jennifer continues on and says, “Although I guess I shouldn’t talk since I forgot to mention how the Bowers Gang are notorious for getting laid at parties.”

Suddenly, the light bulb goes off in Juliet’s head as she connects all the pieces together. “You brought me here on purpose,” Juliet utters, almost as if she’s saying it aloud to herself.

“Don’t give me that look. I mean how else would you be able to see what a pig he is? You should be thanking me.” 

 “I should be thanking you?” Juliet chuckles in disbelief. “Okay then, thank you for dressing me up and bringing me here to only make me look like a total ass. Congratulations, you proved me wrong. Henry is a total jerk and you’re a complete bitch.” 

Juliet has never spoken to Jennifer like this before in her life, but Juliet’s blood has been boiling since her encounter with Henry and Jennifer wasn’t helping simmer down the heat. Juliet shook her head at Jennifer and darted out of the living room as fast as she could, leaving Jennifer quite dumbstruck. For some strange reason, Juliet didn’t feel bad for saying exactly what was on her mind, even if it hurts her. The only thing that made her heart feel heavy is that the two people she cared about deceived and lied to her in just one single night. And unfortunately, the lanky boy waiting for her outside wasn’t any different.

……………………………………………………………………………

The night air was a little chillier than usual, making Juliet cross her arms over her chest to warm up her hands. Patrick notices the small sign and takes off his leather jacket and drapes it over her shoulders.

“Oh. Thanks,” she smiles at him before slipping her arms through the sleeves. A small smirk plays at her lips when she says, “It’s a perfect fit.” It was comical how huge the jacket was on Juliet. The sleeves were so long that you couldn’t even see her hands.

“It looks good on you. Ya know I’m really digging this whole look you got goin’ on. It’s sexy,” Patrick smirks, tugging slightly at the bottom of her dress.

“It’s definitely different, but I think you pull it off a lot better than me,” Juliet teases, referring to his similar all black ensemble of boots, jeans, and a thin long sleeved shirt. 

“Are you saying I’m sexy Jules?” Patrick smirks while throwing his arm over her shoulder. As shocked as she was, Juliet started to feel a sense of comfortability with him. Nobody besides her family or Jennifer called her Jules, and for some reason hearing Patrick use the nickname gave Juliet a sense of warmth that she didn’t think Patrick was capable of. Juliet thought to herself that Patrick could have easily let her leave the party alone, but he wanted to make sure she was safe whereas Henry let her walk away, not caring whatsoever about where she went or how she felt.

“Patrick?”

“Princess?”

“I want to apologize,” Juliet states, keeping her eyes straight forward as they walked while Patrick looks at her slightly confused. “I just feel like I’ve been rude to you lately and that I was quick to judge you before even actually getting the chance to know you.”

Patrick was beaming with pure ecstasy. He had her right where he wanted her. 

“Don’t sweat it sweetheart,” Patrick responds, petting her head. “If it makes you feel any better, I seriously underestimated you. I didn’t think you had it in ya to tell Bowers off like that.”

“Neither did I,” Juliet chuckles before she says, “But you were right and tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry.” 

Juliet suddenly feels tiny droplets of water speckle across her nose before she realizes that it’s starting to lightly drizzle. In a literal instant, the light drizzle turns into harsh, downpour rain.

“Shit,” Juliet hisses before Patrick grabs her hand and they both begin to run down the sidewalk. They sprint for a few blocks, each step like walking into a giant puddle until Juliet steers Patrick towards the white house that’s hers at the end of the cul-de-sac. They race across Juliet’s soggy lawn and up her creaky wooden porch steps when they finally make it to the front stain glass door.

They both stood there, catching their breaths while taking in each others sopping wet appearances. “This is the second dress in a row Hockstetter. I’m starting to think you’re some kind of bad luck charm to my nice clothes,” Juliet jokes, referring to when he spilled soda on her just last night and now this. Patrick leers at her, his eyes studying her face to her wet hair to the droplets of water on her exposed skin to the way her makeup is slightly smudged. She looked messy and it made Patrick’s appetite for her all the more unbearable. Juliet feels his thumb graze over her knuckles and that’s when she glances down and realizes her hand is still interlocked with his. 

“I’m sorry,” Juliet awkwardly apologizes, slipping her grasp from his and instead placing her hand on the door knob before she rambles on and says, “Please, come in so you can get dried off and wait until this rain passes. It’s the least I can do.”

“If you insist,” Patricks smirks, gesturing his hand out for Juliet to walk first. She obliges and he follows, making sure to lock the door behind him. 

@kola95

[homestuckexamination]

The format of that description looks to 100% like the real thing :O Did you spend a lot of time making it look as similar as possible, or is it part of a fan adventure or something like that? (Because I would totally want to read it if it was real)

I kinda wrote it on the spot back when I made it! She’s actually repurposed from an older OC of mine that I’m using for other things, so I had a solid idea about how she was already, and simply adapted it to an Alternian setting.

I HAVE considered making a Fanadventure in the past, but noooo way, I don’t have a team of people and it’d be way too much work for a side project X3. I would love to get involved in something big and Homestuck-y, but as a hobby, running four different blogs and doing art keeps me busy enough as is. Most of my OCs are either for Fun, or for planned Fan-Session RPs I’ve had with my friends, so there’s nothing really public around!

Also, I found my documents, so I now remember their Classpects and have all of their descriptions here!

Rhoxym - Seer of Doom

Jamita - Thief of Rage

Your name is JAMITASELKEE.

You think everyoneshould TAKE A STEP BACK and CHILL THE FUCK DOWN. Born as one of the rare JADECASTE, you have no shame in admitting your status as a RUNAWAY, and in fact,REVEL IN IT. You hold a PROFOUND BELIEF that everyone was put on this world fora purpose, and you are OUT TO FIND YOURS. Everything in nature, everything inlife, has a CONNECTION, a MEANING, and the more time you spend searching forthe MISSING PIECES IN YOUR LIFE, the more you have come to notice how ABSURDYOUR ENTIRE SOCIETY IS.

Everything from theCASTE SYSTEM to your SOCIETAL CONVENTIONS make absolutely no sense to you,which is why you’re lucky to be part of the ONLY CASTE IN YOUR SPECIES able towithstand the SEARING HEAT OF THE DAY, allowing to wander when NO ONE IS OUT TOFIND YOU. Furthermore, ever since your awakening as a RAINBOWDRINKER, you havehad no problems scaring away PROSECUTORS and even occasionally IMPERIAL DRONESthat wandered too close. You like trying to make others SEE THE WAY YOU DO,preferring REASON over VIOLENCE. However your INTENSE, OCCASIONAL THIRST FORBLOOD makes it hard to keep encounters CIVIL all the time. But that’s okay,your LUSUS helps you trap unsuspecting Trolls and Lusii for you to FEED ON. HerQUICK SANDS were the first thing that taught you patience and calm in diresituations, and for that you are EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO HER, allowing her todevour the CARCASSES OF THE DECEASED, DRAINED BODIES YOU LEAVE BEHIND. LususCarcasses. Not Troll Carcasses, God dammit, you TRY TO NOT DRAIN THOSE OF YOURSPECIES COMPLETELY.

You are as much of aROOKIE PHILOSOPHER as you are a CONNOSIER OF FINE BLOODS, and without manymaterial possessions, some of your favorite past times involve HEATEDPOLITICAL, RELIGIOUS AND PHILOSOPHICAL DEBATES. These are the only times youtend to get CARRIED AWAY with more long winded messages and stronger emotionalresponses. You believe any ARGUMENT or GRUDGE can be solved with aHEART-TO-HEART, and often AUSPISTICE BETWEEN YOUR FRIENDS, even when they don’task for your help. SPECIALLY when they don’t ask for your help. You tend toKNOW BETTER than they do after all.

Your search for newENLIGHTENED HEIGHTS and your PURPOSE IN LIFE has led you to the occasionalconsumption of PSYCHOSOMATIC STIMULANTS, but with your lifestyle, it has becomeincreasingly difficult to find any of the GOOD STUFF around. You’re so closethough. You have been tracking your BLOODLINE for SWEEPS, and have spent DAYSIN DEEP MEDITATION over the plan PARADOX SPACE has for you, and you just FEELlike something is just about to UNLOCK YOUR CHAKRAS AT ANY MOMENT. But untilthen, you will just KICK BACK, RELAX and LET THE ECHOES OF NATURE FLOW THROUGHYOU.

Your username is transcendentMediator,and you kind of. don’t care about small talk. until you find something you careabout™.

Shikra - Bard of Doom

Your name is SHIKRAOMYINE and you have been VERY, VERY BAD.

Those of your blood,at the bottom of the HEMOSPECTRUM, are often treated with disrespect, and madeto face all sorts of ABUSE AND HUMILIATIONS, but out of all rustbloods you’repossibly the one with the MOST ROTTEN LUCK out there. You must have really donesomething extremely wrong in a past life, because KARMA is always a BITCH whenit comes to you.

As such, you’ve oftentried to SEEK REPENTANCE in order to sate the FORCES OF FATE ATTEMPTING TO DICKWITH YOU. And somehow, every single time, it BACKFIRES TREMENDOUSLY. But it’sokay. You’ve gotten USED TO IT with time. You have learned well that fate issomething you can’t stop. That NO ONE CAN STOP. Karmic destinies,predestination, they’re shackles tying civilization down, leading it down thepath of inevitability, and you’re pretty much just ALONG FOR THE RIDE ASEVERYTHING BURNS AROUND YOU.

You have NOCONVICTION when it comes to fighting fate, but if you believe it to be yourdestiny to do something, or see someone resisting their own fate, you will GOFUCKING NUTS and PUSH THEM THE WAY THEY ARE MEANT TO GO, no matter what thatfate of theirs may be.

Your room is aCOMPLETE AND UTTER MESS, you don’t remember the LAST TIME YOU CLEANED IT UP,but then again you also barely remember the LAST TIME YOU TOOK A SHOWER. Whybother after all? Everything is going to end up the same way in the end.

While some may callyour outlook on life FATALISTIC and OUTRIGHT WRONG, you have been using thisdemeanor of yours to HELP OTHER LOWBLOODS, specially other rusties, to ACCEPTTHEIR ULTIMATE FATE. You have held several congregations in your hive for thosewho have given up, and HELPED SPEED UP THEIR DEMISE. It feels good relievingsomeone of their SUFFERING.

…

Yeah.

You may be a bit of aFUCKING PSYCHOPATH.

Your username isominousEntropy, and you come across… as somewhat manipulative at times… haha…?;)

Tiamat - Page of Breath

Your name is TIAMAT SAAVAN, and you can’t remember the last time you TOOK AN ABLUTION. 

Not that there’s anyone around to MAKE YOU DO IT- And even if they were, what COULD they do about it? You’re probably one of the BIGGEST TROLLS YOUR AGE in just about every way, from the IMMENSE MANE that rivals that of HER IMPERIOUS CONDESCENSION’S, to your POWERFUL LEGS, which you have cracked QUITE A FEW LUSUS SKULLS with. You like HUNTING PREY, but if there’s anything better than that, it has to be MESSING WITH IT FIRST. OTHER TROLLS make particularly fun targets, when they find a SEEMINGLY LOST GIRL, alone in the JUNGLE. You get FREEBIES by TAGGING ALONG with them, but occasionally, you have also DRAGGED THEM BACK TO YOUR HIVE or ATTACKED THEM depending on the circumstances.

The area you live in is YOUR TERRITORY, which you inherited from your CHOLERBEAR LUSUS when you BESTED HER IN WILD, FERAL COMBAT. She was an overbearing burden either way, but taking your ONLY PARENTAL FIGURE so early in life, and in such an isolated location, had… CONSEQUENCES. DRONES don’t patrol this far into the Jungle, which also means you’ve spent a good chunk of your life ISOLATED FROM CIVILIZATION. Your Hive isn’t even in Imperial Records, having been CARVED through the years from a FALLEN, ANCIENT TREE, first by your Lusus and then by you. You have NO EXPERIENCE with social interactions, and yet, ironically, because of this, you possess a MATERNAL, NURTURING INSTINCT practically UNSEEN in most of Trollkind.

It was only last sweep that you got your hands on a PALMHUSK from one of the Trolls wandering too far into the woods. TURNING A NEW PAGE in your life, realizing that there’s more to the world than you thought it was, you’ve been… Trying to make friends. But sometimes you just need to STEP BACK and CATCH YOUR BREATH before you burn yourself out. 

Your trolltag is untamedPersuasion, and you. not really good. with big words yet. :( but you. try. :3

Lilith - Lord of Void

Your name is. 

Your name- 

… 

You have some PROBLEMS. 

Your name is LILITH MIRREA and you’re a completely AVERAGE TEALBLOOD.

You cannot exactly RECALL how most of your LAST WEEK has gone, or your ENTIRE LIFE for that matter. Everything BLURS together when you spend most of your waking hours in AUTOPILOT.

Your peers know you as an EXEMPLARY LEGISLACERATOR IN TRAINING. You have been STUDYING ALTERNIAN LAW from a young age, got yourself a NICE HIVE for you and your BLIND ANACONDA MOM, and proceeded to… Wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Night after night, you READ ALTERNIAN LAW. You TALK TO YOUR PEERS. You present yourself as the PERFECT ALTERNIAN CITIZEN, PERFECTLY RUTHLESS when needed, PERFECTLY COMPLIANT when required, PERFECTLY AVERAGE, PERFECTLY FINE. 

PERFECTLY DEAD INSIDE. 

You swear hardly a SINGLE ACTION you’ve done in your life has been your own. You STRUGGLE ENORMOUSLY with concepts regarding IDENTIY and WORTH, in a world that has proven to encourage keeping this SOUL-CRUSHING DAY-TO-DAY of yours. You have NOTHING you care about. You have NO ONE you trust enough to TALK ABOUT THESE THINGS, and you lack any semblance of WILL or DRIVE to accomplish anything in your life.

So you just keep going. The PERFECT ALTERNIAN ROLE MODEL. You KEEP WAITING. So that maybe something will eventually FILL THIS VOID inside of you. But… GOOD LORD.

You don’t know how long you can keep this up.

Your trolltag is listlessConduit, And you really talk in a sort of disinterested manner because like I dont know I guess some conversations are okay from time to time maybe

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 20: Mr. Robot 2x12

Watched the finale of Mr. Robot S2 tonight. I... was probably too tired to really appreciate it, but here are a few notes anyway. Mostly about Dom and Darlene lol.

Seeing Elliot as Mr. Robot is so weird. Rami as Mr. Robot, I guess I should say.

So either Tyrell also recited the red wheelbarrow poem to someone else, or, and I assume this is right, Elliot passed it on to Dark Army. I feel like that’s the biggest immediate hint that this takes place in the past--later obviously they’re not at Coney Island but sometimes it’s hard to remember things from one scene to the next imo.

I don’t know if I have the brain for this.

Darlene. :(

What an intro, though. Great resolution to the cliffhanger of who died (not that it would have been really realistic for Darlene to die this early but like...anything is possible).

Santiago trying to be the bad cop. The Patriot Act doesn’t negate the Constitution for citizens like talk like you’re the smartest person in the room all you want Constitution > statutes is still how it works.

All these USA references--imo probably not what will age best from this show. “Characters like you aren’t welcome here.”

“We’re going to be best friends.” Well....she’s not entirely wrong, timeline aside.

I completely forgot about this whole Scott Knowles pretending to be Tyrell thing. Sooooo boring.

Maybe it’s supposed to be another personal thing that has greater implications politically but...idk he’s really only fucking with Joanna, who is boring and unimportant. I guess it could be a double fake out meant to make the ending more suspenseful. A lot of people had been arguing since s1 that Tyrell was another personality, something I always thought was batshit insane and unbelievable. However, just because he’s real in S1 doesn’t mean he’s still real. So, you have Elliot convinced he’s dead and Joanna convinced he’s alive, and then apparently proof he’s alive--you see him--and then a hint he may be dead--all of the evidence he was alive has been thrown out.

Doesn’t make Joanna any less boring though.

Back to the good stuff.

“Babe.”

“Just two crazy, wacky Jersey girls.”

Cisco might have been the love of her life :(

I feel like Darlene may finally be, if not Dom’s match, at least someone interesting for her for once. Some kinda challenge at least.

Dom has some physical evidence here and there but mostly she’s building her case by just breaking people. Flipping person after person after person. Fingerprints can be wiped off but everyone you encounter who remembers you...

“This is Olympus! We are Prime!” Ugh Tyrell stfu so boring.

On the one hand, that’s pretty dumb of them, putting all the paper records in one place. On the other hand, yay for print saving the day as I always say it will. (Well, almost saving...)

Santiago is trying so hard not to let Dom get anywhere. Too bad for him he’s up against the only actually smart person in the FBI.

“I know her. I am her.”

This scene is so good: the slow, unhurried pacing; the flickering lights; the music; the dramatic hallway walk; all the people amazed that Dom caught Darlene and is gonna show her everything; Dom’s speech; Darlene’s face; how the audience should have seen all of this coming but (at least in my case!) didn’t at all; the Romero reveal; the board itself. A masterpiece!!

And yet for all that they were so wrong about Tyrell. He really was not ever that important.

Trying to parse this convo between the hacker and Mr. Robot. Kinda...makes it sound like the hacker created the big picture and then created Mr. Robot in order to iron out the details and deal with the unpleasant stuff. Or assigned him that role. Mr. Robot who is perhaps farther from the real Elliot than the hacker is?

The stay in your realm thing...he has a certain role he was created to play, and now he’s trying to overstep those bounds.

I love how Elliot thinking Tyrell isn’t real and then being proven wrong is like this big joke on all the people who thought he was always a personality lol.

“I’m the only one who’s real” is literally a psychopathic thing to say.

I also like the subversion and twisting of S1′s finale. Instead of Elliot possibly shooting someone else, he is himself shot, and instead of the big reveal being that another character is his alternate personality, it’s rather that another character is NOT.

I feel like the hacker is already getting to this place where he’s....becoming too dominant. Overstepping his bounds and purpose.

Mr. Robot blinking out but Tyrell staying the same because he is, louder for those in the back, real.

“You did this to yourself.” But not literally. Iconic.

So the ending originally kind of made me wonder if Angela had been a double (triple?) agent the whole time, and ALL of this was in service of whiterose...but I don’t think so. I might have tried to follow the thread of that theory once but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t track. I think she was turned by hypnosis in part 1 of the finale, and then the Dark Army got her number to Tyrell, but he’s never met her before and doesn’t know who she is, other than another contact he’s supposed to trust.

Extra scene! I really was 100% convinced that they were talking about time travel when I first saw this lol. I feel utterly played but not in a bad way. It’s like..the show is smart and so you have to try to think of things in a complicated way. But sometimes they just aren’t that complicated! There isn’t always a conspiracy. Tyrell wasn’t sending secret gifts to his wife. He also wasn’t a hallucination or extra personality. Romero wasn’t shot by the Dark Army or the FBI. Time travel is not possible--or even on the minds of some of these characters. Angela wasn’t a double-triple-super-secret-agent-spy: she was trying to get justice for her mom, genuinely, sincerely. You’re primed, just as the characters are, to see conspiracies, to see complexity, to believe everything and everything, but some things just are as they appear on the surface. It’s never knowing which is which that fucks you up.

At any rate, I’m taking a break to finish the 3% before watching S3, which  have seen before, but don’t remember very well. Very excited for the 3% though!