#is the nursed my old mum thing a cover story

[rowanthestrange]

Ok, you’ve all had time to digest “Mrs Flood as in the biblical one that killed everything where the ark will then recreate everything” right?

I have had a brain blast and am about to make an upsetting amount of sense to you.

The above. ‘Mrs’ - She’s married. She knows what a TARDIS is. She knows where the cameras are. She points Ruby towards the TARDIS. She knows who The One Who Waits Is. Has suddenly evil vibes like she’s in league with Sutekh. She’s kind of a cow. She causes problems on purpose. She’s always hiding. She isn’t making your tea.

I think Mrs Flood is the TARDIS.

[seafoamwaffle]

Next Stop: Pelican Town // Stardew Valley AU

Ever since @norinenglish posted about their stardew ranchers fic concept I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head, so I've decided to make it everybody's problem.

I'm not going to be following the farmer's story beat for beat, instead, I'm just taking it as a loose inspiration and seeing where it takes me. Is there going to be more? Who knows, certainly not me!

First draft of Jimmy coming to the valley can be found under the cut :D

The bus travelled down the lonely highway, the slight unevenness of the road sending Jimmy’s head bumping against the window. There were endless mountain ranges just on the other side of the glass and peaking between the small crevices he could even see the ocean. Verdant grass covered every inch of the place—such a far cry from the dull greys of Zuzu City. 

Which, he supposed was the point. Looking back at it, it was only a matter of time before the city chipped away at the last bits of himself until all that remained was just a shallow husk of a being. It was too loud, too full, too much. 

Though who was he kidding? He could blame all his recent troubles on the city all he wanted, it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was no guarantee things would get better in Pelican Town either. 

Positive thoughts, Jimmy, warned Pearl’s voice somewhere in the back of his head. Positive thoughts. 

Right. Things at least—probably?—couldn’t get any worse than they had been. And now he at least wouldn’t have to burden his cousins with coming all the way out to Zuzu City to keep an eye on him. 

It had been their idea to have him move back to Stardew Valley in the first place. Grian had suggested he stay with him up in the spare bedroom of his cabin, though Jimmy had resisted the idea with all his might. He’d caused them enough trouble as it was. The last thing they needed was to have him leeching off their kindness at all hours of the day and invading their personal space. 

After that conversation though, the incessant need to move out of that city to get away increased tenfold, until his small apartment full of stuff that wasn’t even his own began closing in on him, until there was no longer enough space for him to even breathe. 

“What about Gramps’ old farm?” Grian had asked as they were lounging on the couch one evening. “You wouldn’t have us breathing down your neck all the time there and we’d be a few minutes walk out if you ever needed company.” 

“Have you been to that place at all in the past few years? It’s so overgrown you can barely get to the house!” Protested Pearl. Her legs were draped across the both of them while she nursed a bowl of popcorn in her arms. 

“Okay, so it needs a little bit of cleaning up—”

“Understatement of the year.” 

“—but it would solve our conundrum here, right Timmy?” 

Two sets of eyes turned to stare at him as Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pretended he’d still been paying attention to the long-forgotten movie playing in the background. 

“I… I think I’d need to sleep on it.” 

Up until that point he hadn’t thought about the old ranch much. Though he had spent most of his early childhood there, he and his mum moved to Zuzu City after Grandpa passed away. He can’t even remember if they ever came back to visit, although that’s not exactly something he could ever blame her for. What was there to return for besides memories now painted over by grief?

He had loved that place to bits as a kid. How could he not? It was a pocket of the world that always felt as if it had been carved out just for him, endless fields and meadows he could run around until he could no longer catch his breath, chasing around friends whose faces he could barely recall anymore. And the animals—the chickens, the cows, the goats, creatures that at times understood him better than any person could. He wanted to become a vet because of them, though that dream was now long forgotten, locked away with every other ambition. 

It had been the happiest he’d ever been. 

That realisation had hooked its claws underneath his ribs and refused to disappear, reminding him of its existence with each breath he took. 

He could have that again if he gave it a try. 

At first, he attempted to squash that idea down as best he could, to lock it away in a small box tucked at the very back of his mind. It tasted too much like the sickly sweetness of false hope and he wouldn’t—couldn’t let himself be overtaken by it again before he inevitably came crashing down into reality. 

But it was too persistent, growing louder and louder the further down he attempted to push it. So, when he had gone through the few things he still owned from back then and found the deed to the old ranch tucked between photo albums and Grandpa’s old books, it felt as though fate had made the decision for him. 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

It was all too soon that the bus hissed to a halt at a small clearing with barely any indication that there was a bus stop to begin with, besides a ticket machine tucked to the side that anyone could miss easily if they didn’t know it was there. With dread and anticipation both mixing in the pit of his stomach, he stepped out into the open. 

“Timmy!” 

Before he processed what was going on, there was an arm that hooked around his neck, pulling him down enough for Grian to reach and ruffle his blond hair. It took him a moment to pull out of the grasp. 

“What happened to a good old-fashioned hello?” 

“Welcome to Stardew Valley!” A theatrical voice boomed from the side, immediately catching Jimmy’s attention. 

On the dirt path leading to the bus stop stood a man dressed in elegant reddish clothing. He leaned heavily on an ornate cane while his other hand held a matching tophat. A wide smile overtook his features. Behind him he caught a glimpse of Pearl, sitting on a wooden fence.

The stranger made his way over to them. “I’m Scar, mayor of Pelican Town.” He offered a small bow, before placing the tophat back on his head and offering Jimmy the now free hand. 

“I’m—I’m Jimmy Solidarity.” He stumbled over his words as he shook the hand of this clearly important man. His brain wasn’t going to let him forget that for weeks to come. 

If he noticed anything amiss, Scar didn’t comment on it. “I’ve heard a lot about you! It’s not every day someone new moves it. It’s quite a big deal! The entirety of Pelican Town is anxious to meet you.” 

The words sent Jimmy’s stomach tying up in knots and though he attempted to cover that up as best he could, the pitying look Pearl sent his way told him he hadn’t done a good job at it. 

“How ‘bout we take him to the cabin first, yeah? I’m sure others are gonna be able to wait until he gets settled in.” 

Scar’s smile never wavered. “Why of course, of course. Just follow me!” 

An uncanny feeling crept up his spine as they walked down the dirt path he must’ve walked through thousands of times as a child. It seemed much smaller now, the wooden fences surrounding it were much worse for wear. Something so familiar growing into something foreign. 

They stopped once they reached another big clearing and oh—he’d thought Pearl had been exaggerating about how overgrown the property had become. But weeds and debris stretched as far as he could see and where there used to be fields full of crops now grew sturdy trees. 

And the house… Well, it looked as though no one had set foot in or around it in more than a decade, which he supposed must have been the case. 

“Told you it was bad,” Pearl half-snickered, though there was no real malice in her tone. 

“You’re exaggerating! With enough time this can all be fixed up easily.” 

“Says the carpenter. The house looks like it’s being held together with duct tape and Gramps’ old stubbornness! Are you sure this is even safe to stay in?” 

Grian waved a hand in dismissal. “I went to check it over a few days back. It’s not a luxury hotel or anything, it’s covered in about an inch layer of dust and I’m pretty sure most of the wiring and plumbing needs to be redone, but it’s not going to collapse at a moment's notice.”

“Reassuring,” Jimmy chimed in, though his gaze wouldn’t leave the old house. It stood tall, with warm-toned wooden walls and a big front porch leading to the reddish front door. The attic window had been broken, with plastic stapled on from the inside to prevent rain from soaking the inside. 

This was what had become of his childhood home. A broken, empty mess. 

“I mean, it’s got character, it’s rustic!” Scar jumped in.

“Crusty’s a better way to put it—” 

“Listen,” Grian jumped in, cutting off whatever Pearl was about to say. “I’ll help you get it back into proper shape as long as you’ll get all the materials, deal?” 

Jimmy mumbled something vaguely affirmative as he continued staring at the overgrown ranch in front of him. 

It was going to be one hell of a fresh start

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Ten

“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo. "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

March 10th, 1990, 11:54am

Seventeen year-old Oliver Ward sighs, glancing mindlessly out the window of the old retirement home and fighting a yawn.  

It isn’t that he doesn’t love his Saturday mornings spent with his ninety one year-old companion, because he does.  In fact, most Saturdays he forgets that this is even an extra credit assignment at all.  He knows, of course, how terrific this is going to look on his college applications-- but he doesn’t think of it like that.   Over the past month or so, he’s befriended the older gentleman he’s been assigned by his AP psychology teacher, and the old man has taken a liking to him as well.  Most Saturdays, Oliver loses track of the time because he finds himself lost in some story the old man is sharing with him.  

This Saturday, however, Oliver doesn’t much feel like socializing.

It isn’t anyone’s fault but his own. Not really, at least. The previous night had been spent tossing and turning in bed, with a total of two non-consecutive hours of sleep. He’s exhausted, he’s bummed, and he’s pretty sure he’s lost the girl of his dreams.

“Awful talkative today, aren’t you?”  The older gentleman speaks in his thick accent from his spot on his recliner, drawing Oliver from his thoughts and startling him.

Oliver turns, softening when he sees the man’s understanding smile.  He chuckles sheepishly. “Sorry, Mr. Styles. Got a lot on my mind I guess.”

The gentleman— Mr. Styles— nods knowingly. “Well, I figured as much,” he says. “And I know how that goes. Do you want to talk about it?”

Oliver sighs again, moving closer to Mr. Styles.  “I’m afraid it’ll bore you, sir.  And I’m not sure you’d understand.”

Mr. Styles grins a dimpled grin, with a twinkle in his eye.  “Try me.”

That’s something that Oliver loves about Mr. Styles. He’s never judged Oliver, no matter how silly he thinks he sounds, and honestly he gives better advice than anyone Oliver has ever known.  He seems to have an air of mystery about him-- he always has-- and Oliver is sure that Mr. Styles knows at least two secrets of the universe that he’s keeping to himself.

So he shrugs, taking a seat on the bed beside the old man. “Okay.  So. There’s…. a girl.”

Mr. Styles nods understandingly. “Always is, isn’t there?”

“She’s the grade below me. She’s my best friend, but lately it’s been…. I don’t know, kinda more than that?  I  think?”

“Mutually?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Oliver fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah. We’ve been hanging out and stuff.  Even kissed a few times.”

Mr. Styles wiggles his eyebrows. “Oooh, I see.”

“But lately I feel like…” Olivier sighs. “I don’t know. Like she’s getting bored with me.”

Mr. Styles sits back further in his seat, reminiscent of a therapist in his comfy chair. “What makes you say that?”

“I think she wants me to like… commit.”

“Ah.” The old man chuckles. “I see.”

Oliver eyes the older gentleman, curious as to how Mr. Styles could possibly understand any of this. As far as Oliver knows, Mr. Styles has never been married. A few times, he’s mentioned a girl from his youth, but never anyone after that. All Oliver knew about the girl is that she up and left, leaving poor Mr. Styles alone and heartbroken. And truth be told, Oliver had always found it silly how Mr. Styles had never moved on from that.

Oliver shrugs. “Anyway… I dunno. She’s been playing hard to get recently, like maybe she’s bored with me?  Like, she flirts and stuff, but then when it doesn’t go further I feel like she gets annoyed.  And...I want to commit, but what if I’m getting mixed signals, you know? I mean like, what if that’s not actually what she wants? You feel me? What if I ruin what we have going by trying to label it?  And besides,” he sighs, “I find out soon if I got into Syracuse. And if I did get in, I would start there in the fall. What if she doesn’t want to do the long distance thing?”

Mr. Styles chuckles wittingly, but not in a condescending way.  “Well first of all, son, I think you’re completely overthinking this.”

This brings a smile to Oliver’s face. “I have been known to do that.”

“That being said, you seem to really like this girl.  And from the sound of things, she likes you as well.  Am I wrong?”

“Well, that’s the thing.  We’ve kissed and stuff, but like, what if I’m reading it wrong?”

“How can you possibly read a kiss wrong?”  Mr. Styles grins.

Oliver sighs.  “You’re right.  I know.  Feelings are just… really hard.”

“Who is the lucky lady anyway?”  Mr. Styles settles further into his seat.  “Can’t say I recall you ever mentioning having a girl.”

“Her name is Roni,” Oliver says.   “Well, Veronica. She goes to my school.  I think I may have mentioned that.”

Oliver has launched deeply into the backstory of how he and this girl met, completely unaware of the way that Mr. Styles’ face has gone entirely ghostly white.  The old man is frozen in his chair, unblinking, and hardly listening to a word Oliver has said.

He doesn’t even realize he’s cutting Oliver off when he speaks.  “I’m sorry… what did you say her name was?”

“Roni?”

“Last name?” Mr. Styles presses.

“Uhh… Elliot?”

If Mr. Styles didn’t look ill before, he certainly does now.  Oliver takes notice of this, rising to his feet. “Mr. Styles, are you alright?”

Mr. Styles blinks a few times, his breath heavy as shakes his head.  For whatever reason, he won’t look at Oliver now.  He looks at the wall, out the window, at the floor-- literally anywhere but at his young companion.  Oliver begins to grow worried, and he steps towards Mr. Styles, putting a concerned hand on his back.

“Should I call the nurse?”

It’s when Oliver asks this that Mr. Styles seems to regain some sense of consciousness back.  He blinks up at Oliver, almost like a curious little child, and shakes his head-- as if reminding himself to be present.  “No,” he says quietly.  “No, don’t call the nurse.”

“You’re scaring me,” Oliver admits.  “Where did you just go?”

Mr. Styles swallows thickly, eyes growing misty.  “You said… Veronica Elliot?”

Oliver nods.  “That’s right.”

The way that Mr. Styles scans Oliver’s face makes him grow anxious, and it becomes apparent that Oliver wants to let go and perhaps take a step back.  He’s a good kid though-- one who genuinely cares for Mr. Styles-- so he stays put.  “Sir?”

Mr. Styles lets out a shaky breath, obviously still processing everything that’s going on, before looking back up at Oliver  “I just--”  He trails off, noting for the first time the worry in the young boy’s eyes.  He softens just a bit.  

“Yes. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Oliver says.  “I can call the nurse, it’s not a big deal!  I just--”

“No,” Mr. Styles says, suddenly seeming more like himself than before.  “No, there will be no need for that, son.”

Oliver hesitantly relaxes, still keeping his eyes trained on Mr. Styles’ face. “What just happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Mr. Styles says, the slightest bit of color slowly returning to his face.  “I just… knew her mum.  That’s all.”

“Oh!”  Oliver seems to take this as an acceptable answer, obviously relaxing again.  “Yeah.  Her mom died like, five years ago actually.  It was super sad.  Car accident.”

“Five years ago,” Mr. Styles repeats, more to himself than to Oliver.  “God.”

“Yeah,” Oliver says, nodding.  “She’s okay! Lives with her grandparents. They’re super cool.”  He smiles suddenly, as if remembering something.  “They like me a lot.”

Mr. Styles smiles absently.  “I’ll bet they do,” he says gently.

“Anyway,” Oliver sighs,  “I don’t know.  Do you think I should go for it?”

Mr. Styles takes his time with his answer, still trying to process everything he’s hearing.  Oliver seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, which is good because he doesn’t notice the dampness of Mr. Style’s eyes.

What Oliver doesn’t know is that Mr. Styles is reliving every memory he has with the same girl Oliver is fretting over.  Mr. Styles is suddenly twenty-five years old again, in 1925, dancing in his living room with the girl from the future, and he’s young and head over heels in love with her.  He’s remembering everything that the young girl had told him about her timeline, about the boy named Oliver who was waiting in the future for her-- who befriended her shortly after her mother passed and asked her to be his girlfriend just before he graduated.  

This all checks out, and it makes Mr. Styles’ heart feel something it hasn’t felt in ages.  He blinks a few times, trying to clear out the moisture in his eyes.  

“Well,” Mr. Styles says, after a long pause.  “I think that… life is too short to let something so good pass you by.   Do you really like her?”

“So much, Mr. Styles.”  Oliver nods eagerly.  “And I think she likes me too, I’m just scared.”

Mr. Styles shakes his head, doing his best to cover up the shakiness in his own voice.  “Don’t be.  You need to make this girl your own.  You never know what tomorrow holds.  You don’t want to lose her, and spend the rest  of your days wishing you still had the chances that you have now.”

Oliver can tell that Mr. Styles is deep in his own head now, and he debates even speaking at all.  Mr. Styles continues on.  “Can’t even begin to tell you how much I wish I could go back and change some things.  Make some better decisions.”

“I know what you mean,” Oliver says, even though he really doesn’t.  How could he?

“And,” Mr.  Styles says, making an effort to sound less philosophical--less introspective-- and more human, “from the sounds of things, she really likes you, too, son.”

Oliver smiles.  “Yeah?”  

“Yeah.”  Mr. Styles swallows a lump in his throat.  “Take my advice, and don’t mess this up with her.  She sounds like a once in a lifetime kind of girl.”

“But what if--”

“No more ‘what if!’”  Mr. Styles sounds more stern than Oliver has ever heard him, and it takes Oliver aback.  “Get her.  Love her.  Love her now. You don’t realize how important she is, Oliver.  These feelings are real.  These feelings make life worth living.  You can’t pass them up because you’re too scared.”

“And if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“She does.”  Mr. Styles softens as soon as he speaks, as if realizing he’s being far too blunt.  “Oliver, she does.  Trust me on this one.”  

Oliver opens his mouth, then closes it.  Mr. Styles somehow seems to read his mind, and he continues speaking.  “Make her your girl.”

“You really think I should?”  Oliver asks quietly.

“I know you should.”

After a brief pause in which the two stand seemingly at a hold, Mr. Styles clears his throat  gently.

“Don’t let her pass you by,” he says, for emphasis.

Oliver smiles, nodding his head in finality.  “Alright,” he says.  “You’re right, Mr. Styles.  I can’t let her pass me by, can I?  I really like her, and--”

“And I know she likes you, too.”

“Yeah.  I’m gonna call her.”  

Oliver moves like he’s going to leave the room, stopping abruptly as if realizing that he’s here because of school.  The two seem to have the thought at the same time-- that Oliver is getting college credit just for spending a few hours a weekend with Mr. Styles, and they laugh awkwardly together.

“Sorry,” Oliver says.  “I didn’t mean to--”

“You know what you can do for me, son?”  There’s a smile on Mr. Styles’  face, but there is a serious edge to his tone of voice.  “Genuinely?”

“Anything,” Oliver says.  “Anything you need.”

“Bring her in.”  Mr. Styles smiles, contrasting Oliver’s confused expression.  “Bring her in, and let me meet her.  Hm?  Would love to meet her.”

“Yeah?”

Mr. Styles nods.  “Yeah,” he says, somewhat absently, but with a smile for Oliver nonetheless.  “Would love to see the young lady that’s done such a number on you.”

Oliver laughs, and even Mr. Styles lets out a personable chuckle-- as if he’s in on some joke that Oliver didn’t know he was keeping.

“I suppose I could bring her in,” Oliver says,  “but again, I don’t want it to be weird--”

“It won’t be,” Mr. Styles says.  The playful gleam still lingers in his eyes.  “What, am I not interesting enough for her?”

Oliver laughs.  “No, no! She’ll love you!”

The words hit the old gentleman’s heart in a way that Oliver doesn’t notice.

She did love him.  She does. She just isn’t aware of that yet.

“I hope you’re right,” Oliver adds. “About all of this, I mean. I hope she does like me and I’m not just… I dunno, reading too far into it?”

“I can assure you that you aren’t, Oliver.”

There is no trace of doubt on Mr. Styles face, and it makes Oliver both nervous and reassured.  He smiles.  “Alright then,” he says.  “I’ll talk to her.”

Mr. Styles relaxes into his chair, nodding his head in finality.  “Alright then,” he echoes.  “Good man.”

Oliver returns once again for his weekly visit the following Saturday, only this time, he’s hand in hand with his new girlfriend of four whole days.  He’d taken Mr. Styles’ advice and asked her to be his after confessing everything he was feeling for her.  She, of course, felt the same way, and though it didn’t come as a surprise to Oliver it did come as a great relief.

Roni hadn’t seemed as thrilled to go share the news with Mr. Styles, however, once Oliver brought it up.

“Why did we have to come so early though?” Sixteen year-old Roni whines, as she and her new boyfriend Oliver make their way into the Senior Citizen’s home.  “Like, couldn’t we have come in the afternoon?  I’m sure Mr. Style wouldn’t even know the difference.”

Oliver chuckles.  “It’s Mr. Styles,” he corrects, “With an S.  And he seemed really excited about this! This is the time he gave me, so this is the time we’re here.”

“Why was he so excited anyway?” Roni asks, picking at a hangnail on her thumb.  “He doesn’t even know me.”

“No,” Oliver says, “but he knows me.  And he helped me out a lot! Gave me a lot of advice about you.  Least I can do is introduce him, you know?”

“I guess,” Roni mumbles to herself as Oliver checks in at the front desk.

Everyone here seems to brighten at Oliver’s presence.  All the little old ladies know him by name, and he’s quite the charmer.  It’s one of the reasons Roni likes him so much, really.  He talks so fondly about his Saturday’s spent here, and Roni can’t think of a single person his age who would enjoy it as much as he does. It’s cute the way he gushes about Mr. Styles, and how he had mentioned him when he’d asked Roni to be his girlfriend-- officially-- four days ago.  

Truly, Roni feels like she owes a lot to this Mr. Styles, and she really can understand why he would want to meet her.  The least she can do is thank him for telling Oliver to man up and commit already.

Oliver clips his badge to the collar of his shirt and gives Roni a little visitor’s sticker on which he’s scribbled her name with a green sharpie.  He’s dotted the “i” with a little heart, and it makes Roni’s cheeks grow hot when she notices.  He smiles, nodding his head towards the receptionist and interlacing his fingers with Roni’s.

Roni follows her boyfriend down the long hallways, into the elevator (where she has a mini makeout session with him because, come on, who could resist him when he’s looking this cute?) and onto the third floor.

He leads her out into the hallway, trying his best to dismiss how flushed and messy he looks (honestly, Roni takes pride in her work) and giving Roni’s hand a subtle squeeze as they walk along.

Roni looks at the doors as they walk, subconsciously counting the numbers in her head  304, 305, 306… each room an entire home to these people.  Each room a final resting place for all of them.

Oliver stops walking in front of door 310, and suddenly Roni grows nervous.  Her stomach seems to do cartwheels as Oliver smiles down at her.  “You’re gonna love him,” he says quietly, as if to reassure her.  “He’s the coolest.”

Before Roni even has time to reply, Oliver is rapping his knuckles against the large wooden door.  Two quick knocks, followed by one that seems out of rhythm with the other two.

After a few seconds, nothing happens. Roni shifts her weight to her other foot and waits, somewhat impatiently, wanting nothing more than to go home and make out with her boyfriend.  Oliver seems to feel her energy, giving her side a few playful yet charged squeezes that make her giggle.

“No!” she squeaks, squirming out of his grasp.  “Don’t do that here!”

The door opens as Roni is mid giggle, and she and Oliver are met with a little old man, hunched over and looking at them with a warm and expectant smile.  He’s dressed nicer than Harry’s ever seen him dress, and on his head rests a little gray cap that’s probably as old as he is.

“Oliver,” the old man says by way of a greeting.  And then he looks at Roni.  

The reaction he has to Roni is strange to say the least.  It doesn’t make Roni uncomfortable by any means, but something in his demeanor shifts, and he seems to grow a hundred times more serious.  His stare is intense; so much so that it makes Roni shift her gaze.  His eyes seem to grow strangely misty, and his jaw begins trembling-- as if he’s about to cry.

He looks at Roni like he’s known her all his life, and it’s strange.  She almost feels bad that she doesn’t recognize him as well.

She clears her throat, trying to lighten up the now tense silence.   ‘Hi!” she says, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and holding out her hand.  “I’m Roni.”

Mr. Styles swallows audibly, his trembling jaw hardly calming as a smile tugs on the corners of his lips.  “Roni,” he says.  He takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze, never once removing his eyes from hers.  “How wonderful it is to finally meet you.”

Roni looks at Oliver, wondering if he feels the same intense vibes that she’s feeling as well.  She laughs awkwardly, unsure of what else to do. “I’ve--uh-- heard a lot about you, Mr. Styles!”

Mr. Styles grins, an old hidden dimple flashing amongst the wrinkles of his cheeks.  “All bad, I hope,” he says, and now Oliver laughs.

“Of course,” he says.  “I had to let her know what a menace you were!”

Mr. Styles laughs, sounding suddenly young and full of life again.  He moves slowly to the side.  “Come in, please.  Make yourselves comfortable!”

Roni and Oliver share a glance and a quick smile before they enter the room.  It isn’t much, but it’s cozy.  Roni is surprised when she’s met with a delicious vanilla smell emanating from a candle in the corner of the room. (Not that she’d been expecting the place to stink, of course, but she absolutely had expected it to smell like old people, which it did not.)

“Wow,” Oliver says, as if even he is surprised with the state of the room.  “Mr. Styles, you cleaned this place up nice!”

Mr. Styles grins.  “But of course,” he says.  “You have to when you have a pretty girl coming over!”  He looks at Roni.  “Does this boy not clean up for you when you’re spending time together?”

Roni giggles.  “He does.  Although I have to say, the vanilla candle is an excellent touch.  I don’t even think Oliver owns a candle!”

Mr. Styles shakes his head, a playful smile on his cheeks.  “What a shame.  Oliver, you best buy some candles for your lady!”

Oliver and Roni both laugh.  “Vanilla is my favorite,” Roni comments.

“Somehow I had a hunch,” Mr. Styles replies with a playful wink.

With every passing minute that turns into an hour, the three grow more and more comfortable together. It isn’t weird, or forced, and Roni marvels at how easy it is to talk to Mr. Styles.  He asks her questions about her life, oddly fascinated by every word that comes out of her mouth.  The way he watches her with his undivided attention makes her feel important.

He plays music from a little tape recorder that sits in the window of his room.  It takes him a moment to figure it out, and Oliver has to help him a bit, but he finally gets there.  Roni doesn’t recognize any of the music playing (nor does she realize the way Mr. Styles watches her reaction to a few specific songs very closely), but she enjoys the tunes nonetheless.

He shares memories associated with each song; what specific stories each song calls to his mind. And Roni listens, fascinated with every single one of them, realizing that she could genuinely listen to this old man speak about his youth for days.

A stack of books on the nightstand near his bed draws Roni’s attention at some point, and she rises to her feet to go examine them further. Mr. Styles notes her movements and smiles, almost  knowingly, to himself.   She thumbs at the one on the top of the pile, a small menu from some pizza place marking his spot towards the back of the book.  She cocks her head to the side to get a better view of the books title:

Alternate Realities: by Lawrence Leshawn

She blinks a few times, the concept of an alternate reality very new to her.  Without thinking, she picks the book up and scans the back of it.  She glances back at the pile, noting the various ones on time travel, meditation, and astral projection.  Time travel being the only topic of the other three books that she’d ever considered before, this discovery of books feels like a landmine of information.

“Bit nerdy, innit?”  Mr. Styles’ voice pulls Roni from her thoughts, and she turns to him, still holding the book in her hands.  His eyes twinkle.  “Is that what the kids are saying these days?  ‘Nerdy?’”

Roni giggles.  “It is.  But this isn’t nerdy.”

“Ohh,” Mr. Styles says, playfully brushing away her words with his hand.  “Come now.  Yes it is.”

“You’ll never get Roni to agree with that,” Oliver speaks up.  “Haven’t I told  you before?  She’s super into all that!”

Roni feels her cheeks go hot with embarrassment, but Mr. Styles’ only smiles at her.  “No kidding!”

“I mean…” Roni trails off shyly, worried she’s about to make a fool of herself. “Yeah.  Kinda.  It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Mr. Styles replies quickly, a hint of gravity to his words.  “Never say that.”

Roni debates telling Mr. Styles everything; about how she’s trying to find her mother, about how she’s already tried (and been unsuccessful) multiple times, and about how he is the first person (other than Oliver) who hasn’t actually thought she was silly for this at all.

But she’s only just met Mr. Styles, and she doesn’t want to bombard him with her own personal life story just yet-- nor is she certain he would really care.  So she only shrugs, a soft smile spreading across her cheeks.

“Yeah. I just… think it’s neat.  That’s all.”

There’s a look on Mr. Styles’ face that seems to say that he’s interested, but he doesn’t want to push her.  He waits patiently for her to continue, but when she doesn’t, he tries pressing just a tiny bit.  “Any particular reason?”

Even Oliver is watching her now, waiting for her answer even though he’s already known for a while. He offers her an encouraging smile, and Roni hesitates briefly before speaking   “I just want to go back and see my mom again.  She passed like five years ago and I just…”  She trails off, feeling silly despite the understanding looks on both Oliver and Mr. Styles’ faces.

“I understand.” Mr. Styles speaks up after a few moments of silence.  Roni doesn’t notice the all knowing smile on his face, or the way his eyes have grown damp.  She doesn’t catch the way he swallows down the lump in his throat.   Or how he looks at her the same way she looks out the window: pensive and lost in thought.

“Anyway,” Roni sighs, halfway through a laugh.  “I don’t know.  Oliver is the only one who believes me and even then, I’m not sure he really does.”

“I do!” Oliver laughs, shrugging almost defensively.  “I do.  I just don’t know if they’ve like… I dunno, developed some way to time travel yet.  I don’t know if technology has come that far, you know?  What  do you think, Mr. Styles?”

Both Roni and Mr. Styles seem to be deep in their own little worlds, but it’s lost on Oliver as he waits for a response from the older gentleman.  Mr. Styles smiles to himself, chuckling gently.  “I think it’s entirely possible,” he says, voice quiet.   “And I hope miss Roni never gives it up.”

Roni smiles, turning to face the old man.  “You really mean that?” she asks, stepping towards him.  “Like, you really think it’s possible?”

“I can promise you it is,” he says.  “I’m certain of it.”

Roni, realizing she’s still holding the Alternate Realities book, holds it up and gestures  at it with her free hand.  “What about this stuff?  I’ve never really heard of it.”

Mr. Styles grins, obviously glad she’s asked.  He shifts in his seat, speaking slowly.  “Have either of you ever heard of a parallel universe?”

Roni and Oliver both shake their heads, and Mr. Styles raises his eyebrows.  “No?  Well.  It’s a plane of existence, similar to the very one we’re living in right now now, that co-exists with our own.  It is said that there are multiple.”

“Multiple… existences?” Roni questions.

“That’s right,” Mr. Styles continues.  “Not much is known about them.  Especially considering that it isn’t even known if they exist or not.  But if they do, it is said that some are wildly different than your current existence now, while others are exactly the same with only a few minor differences.”

“Gnarly!” Oliver exclaims.  “So like, somewhere out there, I exist but I’m a billionaire?”

Mr. Styles chuckles.  “It’s possible.”

“Wait wait wait,” Roni says, significantly less convinced than her boyfriend.  “So you mean that somewhere out there in the world, there’s another Roni?  Who has no idea I exist?”

“We don’t know.”  Mr. Styles shrugs.  “Maybe.  Or maybe she knows all about you.”

Roni shakes her head, trying to wrap her mind around all this new information.  “That’s nuts.”

“Not really,” Oliver offers. “Kinda makes sense if you think about it.”

“So wait” Roni says, setting the book on the dresser and walking to stand by Mr. Styles.  “I told you why I’m into this.  Why are you into this?”

The old man goes quiet, smiling a tight lipped smile and hesitating as if really giving thought to his answer. “I like to think that in another reality, somewhere in time, I’m with my honey.”

Roni softens.  “Oh, I see.  Did she--”  She’s about to ask if Mr. Styles’ girl passed away as well, but she thinks better of it, unsure as to whether or not that’s an appropriate question.

Mr. Styles chuckles quietly, knowing exactly where Roni was going with her question. “I lost her,” he explains, because it isn’t technically a lie.  “Many, many years ago.”

“Oh.”  Roni frowns.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”  At this point, it’s impossible for him to hide the way his voice cracks.  Roni looks at him, then averts her eyes, as if she feels guilty for hearing it.  Oliver sighs, stepping forward.

“Mr. Styles--”

“You remind me of her,” Mr. Styles says, ignoring Oliver.  The look on his face makes it seem like he’s got more on his mind.  

“Yeah?” Roni steps towards Mr. Styles, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He sighs, reaching up to place his hand on top of hers.  “Yeah,” he says. “More than you’d even believe.”

“Wish I could’ve met her.”

Mr. Styles grins up at her, swallowing thickly and patting her hand.  “Yeah.  She was my honey.”

He takes a deep breath, looking away from Roni and glancing out the window.  There’s a charged silence.  Oliver squirms uncomfortably, but Roni stays right where she is, waiting patiently for Mr. Styles to continue.

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Mr. Styles says.  He smiles up at Roni.  “Wherever she is.”

“Maybe she’s with my mom,” Roni offers.

Mr. Styles closes his mouth, blinks back a few of his tears, and nods his head.  “Perhaps she is.  Wouldn’t that be something.”

“I didn’t mean to like… make you sad or anything, Mr. Styles--”

“You didn’t, darling.” The old man shakes his head.  “Don’t be silly.”

Somehow, Roni doesn’t believe him.

The subject is swiftly changed and the rest of their visit goes by relatively smoothly.  Mr. Styles is back to his cheery self before Roni can even think twice about the interaction they’ve just shared, and soon the three are laughing and chatting away like best friends again.

All too quickly does their visit come to an end.  They say their goodbyes, although it’s obvious that Mr. Styles doesn’t want their time together to be over.  He looks almost emotional to be saying goodbye to Roni, something that neither of the two teenagers seem to understand.

After he gives her a warm embrace, careful not to hold her too long or, heaven forbid, make her feel uncomfortable, Mr. Styles pulls away, holding Roni at arm’s length.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Confused, Roni cocks her head to the side.  “For?”

“You’ve made me feel young again.  I cannot even begin to express how badly I needed this.”

Roni smiles.  “Oh.  You’re welcome then!”  She giggles.  “It was so nice meeting you, Mr. Styles.”

“The pleasure was all mine, honey.”  His hands tremble as he lets go of her.  He turns to Oliver.  “You bring her back to visit sometime soon, alright?”

Oliver chuckles.  “I will.  But don’t go liking her more than you like me, now.  I’ve been here way longer.”

Mr. Styles laughs.  “Sure,”  he says,   “but she is prettier.”

Oliver slings his arm over Roni’s shoulder.    “Well I can’t argue with that, can I?”

When they finally do go their separate ways, Roni and Oliver playfully chase each other out to Oliver’s car-- blissfully unaware of the way that Mr. Styles watches them from his bedroom window with tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. They don’t know that Mr. Styles doesn’t leave his bedroom for the entire rest of the  day-- to the point that the caretakers at the home begin to worry about him.  

They don’t know that Mr. Styles has just reunited with his honey,  after nearly sixty-five years of looking for her, and that she has obviously no idea herself.

Oliver continues his weekly visits to Mr. Styles room for a few more weeks, noting that he is completely unlike himself, until mid April when Mr. Styles passes away.  

Oliver attends his funeral.  Roni, visiting a cousin out of town, does not.

Both Roni and Oliver eventually forget about the old man completely,  moving on with their lives and living together in blissful ignorance of  just how odd time can be.

It isn’t until ten years later, in April of 2000, that Roni  seems to recall the little old man, realizing with immense sadness how significant he really was.

With a heart shattering sob, she hopes that he’s with his honey, somewhere in time, just like he said.

------

December 31st, 1999, 11:54pm

It is ridiculously bright when Roni tries to open her eyes.  

She opens her eyes too quickly at first, immediately regretting it and squeezing them shut again.  The act of closing them once more, however, pushes a hot tear that’s been waiting for release from the corner of one eye  

And suddenly, it all comes flooding back to her.

Harry, 1925, Violet LaRue, the ocean, her mother…

She is so overwhelmed all at once with emotions that she grows sort of nauseous, and she sits up immediately to try and stop the spinning of the room around her.  

The room --her and Oliver’s shared bedroom-- looks completely untouched, as if she’d never left.  There is hip-hop music booming downstairs, lots of chattering, and a smell in the air that can only be described as drunk people.  The silence in the room, however, contrasts the chaos that’s occurring downstairs, and it makes her head pound.

Roni looks around slowly, noticing the skimpy, revealing party dress she’s wearing that clings to her every curve. It looks untouched as well, albeit a bit disheveled, and she reaches a cautious hand down to smooth it over her lap.

She hears Oliver’s booming laugh downstairs, and the sound feels like a stab to the heart. He must be completely wasted. The clock on the wall reads 11:54pm, and she knows she has to get back down to the party before the clock strikes midnight.

Never in her entire life has Roni felt anything like the feeling she’s currently experiencing.  

Surely she couldn’t have dreamt it all.  It was real-- Harry was real, and seeing her mother was real.  Besides, the fact that she’s even crying right now tells her that she had to have been experiencing something physical.  

Which reminds her…

Roni rises to her feet and makes her way over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door.  She pulls the neckline of her dress down, and feels her own breath catch in her throat when she finds what she’s looking for.

There, in the exact spot on her chest that she’d been anticipating it to be, is a bruise left by Harry.  The last remaining physical reminder of his existence.

With a shaky hand, she gently brushes her thumb over the purpling skin.  It stings, just a bit, but it’s real.  It’s there.  And it’s too much for Roni to handle.

Grateful for the cover of the commotion downstairs, Roni can’t help herself but to let out a pathetic sob as everything comes flooding over her.  How could she have been with Harry not even five minutes ago?  And her mother?  How was her mother just there and now suddenly she’s gone again?  

How can she be expected to go on in a world where neither of them exist, and she’s the only one with knowledge of what she’s just experienced?

She collapses to her knees, eyes closing and another choking sob echoing from her throat.  She reaches up to wipe her damp eyelashes, mindful of the fact that sooner or later she’s going to have to go downstairs and face everybody again— which she can’t do with a face full of runny makeup.

But right now she doesn’t care.  Right now, she’s overwhelmed, and upset, and deeply, deeply missing the love of her life.

It’s been ages since she’s cried this hard, and it feels somewhat therapeutic, although it doesn’t fix the terrible ache in her heart. Her throat hurts and her chest heaves. She reaches up to cover her own mouth to quiet her wails as her heart feels like it’s physically breaking.  

She misses him.  She misses him so much.

On top of that, having her mother so close to her after so long without her--only to have to leave her once more-- is more painful than she had ever anticipated it would be.  

Roni remains like this for another minute or so, until she’s drawn by her thoughts when she hears her own name faintly downstairs.  Someone asks where she is, and Oliver slurs out that she’s been gone for a while.  When someone suggests that he go find her and he jubilantly agrees, Roni panics.

“Shit.”  She reaches up and wipes at her snotty nose; stumbling awkwardly to her feet and making her way to the mirror once again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  

Roni scrambles to fix her hair and wipe away the splotchy mascara stains under her eye.  She prays that Oliver is too drunk to even notice that she’s crying, and she swallows down the intense heartache still in her throat.  When she’s at least somewhat satisfied with her appearance, she hears footsteps coming down the hallway— her cue to leave.  With a deep breath, she opens the bedroom door just in time to eee Oliver approaching.

Oliver, with his sweet, drunken smile, immediately opens his arms. “Ronnaaaaaay!” He says, by way of greeting her.  “There you are!” He doesn’t wait for her to respond, instead he just wraps her up in his arms and gives her a big, suffocating squeeze.  He pulls away to press an obnoxious kiss to her forehead, and it breaks Roni’s heart even more.  

On any other occasion, she would find this unbearably adorable. But now, the scent of the alcohol mixed with his cologne is making her even more nauseous than she already was.

After a few more wet pecks to her forehead, he squishes her cheeks in his hand and kisses his way down her face, pausing only once he reaches her mouth and realizes it’s wet and salty.  He pulls away, not removing his hands from her cheeks, and furrows his eyebrows as he scans her face. “You been crying?”

Roni knows that if she opens her mouth, she’ll lose control again. So she only smiles, turning away and giggling softly as she nods.

Oliver doesn’t seem to find this as humorous as Roni does, and he tilts his head so that he’s once again in her line of vision. “Heyyy, hey,” he coos. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She sniffs, trying her hardest to keep her light smile on her face. “It’s nothing,” she says, throat raspy and voice hardly above a whisper. “I promise.”

“It’s not nothing,” he says, wiping at Roni’s damp face and gently guiding her back into their bedroom.  He’s thoughtful like that-- he doesn’t want Roni to feel it necessary to squash her emotions should anyone walk by.  He knows she wouldn’t want anyone else to see her crying like this. He doesn’t close the door fully, leaving only a crack, before turning to Roni.

She doesn’t say anything, but the way he’s being so ridiculously sweet to her is making her want to cry harder. This isn’t fair; not fair to her and definitely not to him.  She crosses her arms over her torso, feeling ridiculously vulnerable under his gaze.

He gives her a sympathetic smile, and there’s a look in his eyes that comes across almost as if he knows what’s going on.  She lets out a little half laugh/half sob, and she feels closer to him than she expected to in this moment. She speaks.

“Are you gonna say something?”

Oliver cuts her off, speaking only a half second after her. “You tried that time travel junk again, didn’t you?”

His words feel like a slap to the face, but they aren’t exactly wrong.  She stays frozen, mouth agape, and then wilts.  

“Yeah,” she whispers, because what else is there for her to say?

“Ohhh, babe.” Oliver steps towards her, wrapping her in his arms. I told you it wasn’t gonna work.”

Roni knows she should have expected that kind of response from him, but still.  Ouch.  

For a split second, she almost loses it.  She almost tells him everything; about how it did work, about how she’s actually been gone for a little over a week now-- not just a few minutes--, and about how hard it was to find her way back. She wants to mention seeing her mom, and she wants to rub it in his face. “You were wrong! You were wrong about it all! I saw my mom! She hugged me!”

It’s when she considers telling him about Harry, however, that some sense is knocked back into her.

Just the mere, brief thought of Harry makes her want to break down again, and subconsciously the mark on her chest that Harry had left begins to sting.  She chews the inside of her cheek so hard it hurts.

“I’m sorry, honey.”  Oliver’s use of the pet name that Roni had grown so used to hearing from Harry’s mouth makes her nauseated.  She tries to break free from Oliver’s grasp, but he holds her tighter.  “I know how much you wanted it to work.”

“Stop,” she whispers.

He doesn’t hear her.

“I know you’ve tried for years, but haven’t you been through enough heartbreak?”  Oliver sighs.  “I really think it’s time you give it up, Ron.  I don’t know why you won’t just listen to me about this stuff.”

“Stop it.”  Roni finally does break out of Oliver’s embrace, and in his drunken state he blinks dumbly back at her.

“Did I say something?”

“Fuck’s sake,” she says, wiping the tears on her cheeks.  “You’re right, okay?  I’m an idiot.  I’m done trying.  I quit.  Is that what you want to hear? Can we fucking stop?”

Oliver frowns, hesitantly taking a step towards Roni.  “Babe, I didn’t mean--”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Roni says, harsher than intended.  “Okay?  Drop it.  Please.  I’m begging.  I just want to go to bed.”

“But it’s almost midnight.”  Oliver is pouting now, and although it should make Roni soften a bit, it only makes her angry.

Oliver takes a more definitive step in Roni’s direction.  “I don’t want to start the new year fighting with you, babe.  Can we just go back down to our party?  We can talk about this tomorrow.” He shrugs.  “Or not! We don’t have to ever talk about it again if you don’t want to.  I just want to bring in the new year kissing you, surrounded by our friends.  So can we just… please?”

Roni scans his face, feeling more and more on the verge of breakdown with every passing second.  She closes her eyes, wishing she were anywhere but here, and covers her face with her hands.  “God,” she groans, before taking a big breath and opening her eyes again.  “Fine.  Sure.  Let’s go.”

Oliver smiles softly, holding out his hand timidly for her to take.  “Sure you’re not mad?”

It isn’t Oliver’s fault.  Of course it isn’t.  So how can Roni be angry with him?

She sighs, trying to bitterly laugh off a tear that’s threatening to roll down her cheek and ignoring his hand.  “Yeah,” she says quietly.  “I’m sure.”

“Not sure I believe you,” Oliver chuckles, “But okay.”  He steps in, closing the gap between him and Roni and puckering his lips.  He speaks in a babyish voice that, in any other circumstances, would absolutely melt Roni.  “Gimme kiss?”

It makes Roni even more upset than she already is, but who is she to deny Oliver? He is none the wiser as to what’s going on, and she can’t exactly drop this bomb on him right now. Not when he’s drunk.  Not when there’s a party going on downstairs.

Not when they’ve been together for so many years with absolutely no problems before this.

Before Roni even has time to process what’s happening, Oliver is taking her wrist in his hand and pulling her impossibly closer to him.  He kisses her, softly at first, and then a bit more passionate once their lips are fastened together.  

It’s Oliver who is making all the effort then; tongue maneuvering it’s way into Roni’s mouth as seductively as he can manage.  Roni would have no objections to this in any other situation.  In fact, she would welcome this.  The normal Roni would suggest she and Oliver skip out on the midnight countdown altogether, in fact, and elect to stay up here bringing in the new year whilst fucking like rabbits.

But not now.  Of course not now.  In fact, probably not ever again.  How could she ever go back to Oliver now?  After Harry?  After everything she’d felt for Harry?

How could she have done this to Oliver?

She gently pushes Oliver off of her, hoping he doesn’t note the tears in her eyes.  “Please,” she says quietly.  “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”  Oliver giggles,  “Kiss your boyfriend?  You scared our friends will catch on?  Start thinking we might have crushes on each other?  Assume you think I’m hot?”

Roni knows Oliver is playing around, but she genuinely is not in the mood for that right now, and she’s afraid that if he says much else she’ll snap.  She groans, leaning in and pressing the most bland, unemotional kiss to his lips.  “Lets go,” she says.  “Please.  We’re going to miss the countdown.”

She begins making her way out of the room with Oliver close behind her.  “I expect a much better kiss than that when the ball drops!” Oliver says. “Much, much better!”

Roni’s heart is pounding in her ears so loudly she can hardly hear herself think. Her face grows hot while the inside of her body feels cold.  She’s having a panic attack, no doubt about it, and for once she’s glad that everyone is going to be too drunk to acknowledge it.

“Ron?”  Oliver asks as he and Roni begin descending the stairs. “Hey, Ron? Baby… will you stop a minute?”

“I don’t want to miss the ball drop,” Roni says, refusing to turn around and trying her hardest to sound like her breathing is under control.

Oliver stops her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart,” he says tenderly. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Roni insists, more urgently than intended.  She sighs (the shakiness of her breath incredibly obvious to both of them) and softens as best she can.  

“I’m not being weird,” she repeats. “Just tired.”

“You know if something is going on you can tell me, right?” Oliver sounds more sober than he has in hours, and the way he looks at Roni makes her insides shake with guilt.

She opens her mouth to speak, but has to forcibly stop herself when she almost says Harry’s name. She scans his face, so genuinely concerned and yet ridiculously kind, and she swallows down the vomit rising in her throat.  “Yeah,” she says “I know.”

Oliver smiles.  “Okay then.”  He gives her shoulder a squeeze and follows  her lead back into the living room.

Roni feels like she’s in a dream as she moves;  like her body is here physically but her mind is elsewhere.  In the strangest way possible, her brain feels small and disconnected entirely.   She can see everyone cheering when she and Oliver walk in.  She can feel her friend put a red solo cup filled with alcohol into her hand.  She can hear her name being called, but she doesn’t register it.  She doesn’t register anything that’s going on at the moment, actually.

Her attention is briefly caught when she hears people start counting down, signaling that the ball is about to drop.  Their exuberant voices sound far away, however, as if she’s hearing them from the next room over.  Her face feels cold and her hands feel sweaty, and she thinks maybe if everyone would scoot over a bit she’d be able to breathe better.

“18….17…. 16….”

Someone accidentally bumps into Roni, knocking into the cup in her hand and sloshing a bit of its contents onto her dress.  No one reacts; in fact, no one else even notices. Oliver gives her hand a quick squeeze, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arm around her waist.

“...12… 11….”

Roni’s ears burn.  She knows where she is, but she cannot, for the life of her, focus on a single thing.  Her heart is hurting.  This doesn’t feel right.  She shouldn’t be here.

Slowly, the room around her begins spinning.  Roni wobbles a bit on her feet and Oliver catches her, probably chalking her wooziness up to her being as drunk as he is. She almost wishes she was, because maybe that would make everything hurt less.

“...8… 7…6”

Roni’s throat feels like it’s closing in on itself, and her mind seems to be running far behind her actual body.  She tries to blink herself into some clarity, glancing around the room.  She’s looking--hoping-- for someone who she knows damn well isn’t there.  Someone who couldn’t even try to be there.  The only person she cares to see at this point.

“...3...2...1…”

The entire room erupts in cheers, which definitely doesn’t help the throbbing in Roni’s brain, and the song Auld Lang Syne blasts from the tv.  There is nothing but chaos surrounding Roni, and she almost gags at the feeling of the lump in her throat.   She opens her mouth to say something, but is promptly cut off when Oliver pulls her in by her hips, fastening his lips to hers in a kiss that feels a far too enthusiastic for Roni’s taste.

The way he’s holding her by her hips would be enough to make her swoon on any other occasion. But now it makes her feel suffocated, and she doesn’t even close her eyes as she gives Oliver a half-assed kiss back.

No one else in the room seems to be aware of what’s going on.  They’re all too drunk, too busy making out with their respective partners/fuck buddies/love interests for the evening, to seem to care or even notice at all that Roni’s eyes are wide open.  The guilt, the pain, the longing for Harry-- all of it wraps itself around Roni’s heart and squeezes like a python.

Oliver pulls away, a dopey smile on his face.  “Happy New Year, baby!”

He looks so thrilled; so beyond naive to not only the fact that she’s hurt him in what she’s certain will be an unforgivable way, but also the fact that she is more concerned with missing Harry than feeling much else at all right now.

“Roni?”

A voice from off to the side catches her attention, and she turns in slow motion to see her and Oliver’s mutual friend, Zach, squinting at her.  “Ron, you don’t look so good.”

“Wait, yeah,” comes Zach’s girlfriend, Skye.  “Girl, are you okay?”

Roni hears their questions.  She hears them, but she doesn’t process them.  Zach and Skye aren’t the only people who seem to be concerned, as more and more people around them quickly catch on.

“Sweetheart?” comes Oliver’s voice, and Roni turns, almost drunkenly.

“Is she drunk?”

“Did she take something?”

“She looks green!”

“Baby?” It’s Oliver’s voice that breaks through the deafening noise the most, although Roni still can’t even really process what he’s saying. “Roni?  Hun, can you hear me?”

“Everyone step back!”

“Let her breathe!”

“Can someone get her some water?”

“Ron?”

Her breathing is so shallow now that she can actually hear herself gasping for air.  She feels like she’s choking.  She hates this.  She hates these people.  She doesn’t want to be here.

Where she wants to be is with Harry.  Alone with him, in his tiny apartment that isn’t even half the size of the room.  The year 2000 nothing but a vague memory, something she knows is so far in the future that  she’ll never have to worry about it.  She should have stayed.

Goddammit, she should have stayed.

As she looks around the room at these people who she should love-- who she should be thrilled to be surrounded by-- she realizes that she’s never felt more alone.  Not a single one of them would understand what’s going on. How is she supposed to continue on into the new year-- the new millennium-- feeling so isolated in her own feelings?

“I can’t breathe.”

She can feel herself saying the words, yet her own voice sounds so fuzzy and far away.

“She can’t breathe!” someone repeats.  “Everyone back up!”

“Can we get her some water?”

“Ron?”

It’s too much.  It’s all too fucking much.

Roni’s knees wobble a bit before she feels them buckle.  The last thing she sees before hitting the ground is Oliver worriedly scrambling to catch her.  

And then everything is dark.

[no-nottoday]

Offer Of A Lifetime - Dope Series (Jin)

Doctor!Jin x Mafia leader!reader

Word Count: 1342

A/N: This is my first story on tumblr. Let me know what you think. 

“Dr Kim, we have a patient for you. Eight-year-old girl who fell down the stairs at school. The school rushed her to the hospital.”

Seokjin looked up from his computer to the nurse that had come into his office during his break. Technically, he still had twenty minutes left but it wouldn’t be a day at the hospital with a reduced lunch. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking at the nurse.

“What’s her condition? Concussion, injuries etc?” He asked as he saved his work and locked his computer.

“She won’t let anyone near her. She won’t talk to anyone.”

Seokjin got up from his chair and rubbed his eyes. After a long shift he wasn’t in the mood for incompetent staff that couldn’t deal with patients. He passed the nurse and noticed her blushing. Not another one. He knew the nurses gossiped about him. His relationship status was their favourite topic. Followed closely by his bedroom activities.

“What room?”

“Oh uh, she’s in one of the private rooms. E2, down the hallway.”

“Private… who is this child?”

“I’m not sure, Dr Kim.”

Jin shook his head and walked out of his office. He turned down the hallway to one of the private sections of the hospital. As he strode down the hallway he wondered why the staff had thought he would be the best for this situation. Sure, he was good with children. He was one of the hospital's main paediatricians, but he worked more with teenagers than little kids.

He stood in front of the private room this mysterious girl was in. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door before looking through the window. He could see a bundle of cheap duvet covers on the bed and suspected that the girl was trying to hide away. He shook his head before opening the door. The bundle on the bed stopped moving around.

“Hello. My name is Dr Kim, but you can call me Jin. What’s your name sweetie?” Jin asked softly. The bundle moved around before the side of the duvet slowly lifted before being pulled back down. Jin chuckled. “You know. I like to hide away from people too.”

The duvet lifted once more before a small voice spoke out, “it’s scary. I’ve never been to a hospital before.” The duvet dropped once again. Not before he caught a glimpse of chocolate brown eyes.

“Oh no. You don’t need to be scared. I’ll look after you and make you all better. Doctor’s promise.”

The duvet slowly moved back to reveal the young girl. She blinked away the tears in her eyes and Jin felt a strange sense of protectiveness over the girl.

“What’s your name sweetie? Or should I make one up?” Jin put his hand to his chin and hummed. “Maybe Cinderella or Aurora. You’re as pretty as a princess.”

The girl giggled before shaking her head. “Nope.” She popped the ‘P’. “It’s Karina. Karina (L/N).”

Jin paused. Where had he heard that name before?

Suddenly the door burst open, and a woman rushed in and hugged the little girl. The girl cuddled into the woman. Jin’s heart was touched at the affection between them.

“Karina. You’re ok. Thank god.”

“I’m ok mum. Dr Jinnie was looking after me.”

At that the woman turned to him. “Thank you. She’s like me, not a fan of strangers. Rarely does she warm up to people.”

Jin felt weird. The woman wasn’t frowning at him but wasn’t smiling. He was just about to question it when her phone start ed ringing.

“Hello. Oh Carlos. Why the hell wasn’t the family doctor notified that my daughter was hurt and why wasn’t she sent to the house infirmary. Instead, she’s in a public hospital scared.”

There was a pause and the woman’s face grew slightly angrier. “What do you mean the doctor is injured and taking leave. Why?” Another pause. “Because you and Andreas got in a fight. Fantastic.”

The woman hung up. She took a deep breath before putting a smile on her face.

“I’m so sorry about that. My brothers were idiots and injured the family doctor and in turn, Karina had to come to the hospital apparently.” She turned to her daughter. “I’m sorry sweet pea, I should’ve been there for you.” She kissed the top of her daughter's head before turning back to Jin. He suddenly felt shy under her gaze. “Thank you for taking care of her. She’s very nervous of new people especially after being adopted into the family.”

“It’s my job, looking after the young people and children that come to the hospital. It’s what I trained for.”

“You seem good at it. My name is (Y/N) (L/N) by the way.”

Jin was shocked. That’s where he recognised the name from. The most powerful family currently and he was looking after one of the children. He gulped if he had done something wrong...She smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong. To be honest you work better with Karina than the family doctor ever has.”

“May I check her over?”

They both turned to the girl who was looking between the two of them, grinning. Jin felt a blush rising from his neck to the tips of his ears.

“I don’t think she’ll mind. I need to go settle the bills anyway.” (Y/N) turned away from Jin and to Karina. “Let me know if you need me.”

With that, she left the room. Karina turned to Jin and poked one of his cheeks. “You like my mummy don’t you.”

“Uh, no. It’s nothing-g like um that.” Jin stuttered, blush deepening.

“It’s ok. She likes you too. She doesn’t normally act like that to strangers. Has to be careful, you know.”

“I’m sure she does. Right, back to you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok. It wasn’t a bad fall. I’ve had worse. I didn’t hit my head if that’s what you’re wondering. I just felt faint because I hadn’t drunk water.”

“Ok. Well, I’m going to do some checks anyway to make sure. I need to take your blood pressure.

“Mmhm. So, do you have someone or not. You should go out with mummy.”

“You don’t give up, do you. Anyway, sit still while I put this on you. Make sure to relax.” Jin wrapped the small Velcro fabric band around her thin arm. He waited for the results before the machine beeped and he noted the results down. He undid the band from her arm and put it away.

“My arm hurts. It was so tight.” Karina complained, rubbing her arm.

“Oh no. We can’t have that. How about I get you a sweet and that’ll make it better. Sweets always make things better.” Karina giggled and nodded. “Ok, well let me go hand in these results and I’ll go find one.

“Sweets, my goodness you’re being spoiled.”

“Mummy!”

“Thank you Dr Kim.”

Jin blushed. “It’s no problem. I’m just glad she’s feeling ok.” Jin stared at (Y/N) who was hugging Karina close to her and stroking her hair. It made Jin smile.

“Dr Kim. There’s a new patient that’s just come in that you need to see.” A nurse stated from the doorway.

“Noooo Dr Kim.”

“Of course, nurse Jihyo. I’ll be right there.”

“Karina. He needs to go see other patients.”

“But. I don’t want to share him with other people.” Karina frowned. Jin and (Y/N) started laughing. “Anyway, someone might steal him from you mummy.” Jin started coughing at that whilst (Y/N) laughed harder.

“I need to go.” Jin stated. Eyes down, face burning.

“Of course.” (Y/N) nodded. As Jin started to leave, (Y/N) stood up and cleared her throat. ”I do have a proposition for you Dr Kim. Would you like to be one of our family doctors. More specifically, the paediatrician for the family. Everything would be paid for, and you would travel around the world with us. It’s up to you.

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s ok. Here’s my number, call me if you’re interested.”

[theobxhummingbird]

A helpless moment when you found me. -Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: It all starts with a few cups of orange juice, and ends with 1 liter of tears. Luke Patterson needs to find a way of winning her back into his life.

A/N: @beautifulblogsblog enjoy this little emotional Luke x Reader imagine, my very very emotional self put together. Thank you for suggesting this story. 🤗🤗

(GIF CREDIT TO OWNER)

It all started, when Sunset Curve started to get known by bigger audience. All the teenage girls were crazy over the four, cute boys; they even got called on TV to promote their album; sold t-shirts and played a few shows out of town. All in all, the bandmates succeeded in making it to the side of the buses, or on the lock screens of many phones.

Luke’s dream was to have his music, listened by many people around the world; and it worked, which had him talk about it for days. And it was all going well with him, until everything about his music career started to blind him. Bobby, Reggie and Alex were doing great, not too much dedicated into the music, well, not as much as Luke. It touched him so much, the need of his music being heard, as well as his name, that he even freshly made up from a fight with his mum. Emily and Mitch were understanding parents. At the beginning, they didn’t accept the idea of his 17-year-old son, playing in a rock band, but when they all sat down to talk about it, the wild waters calmed, and they were able to speak the same language.

 Luke, wasn’t only lucky to have two amazingly supportive and understanding people in his life, but one more, who always had the time to sit down and listen to what he had to let out of his heart. She, who was his first text in the morning, and last text at night; she, who was his few missed calls; she, who was the whole sunshine he could need in his life. She, who loved him with her entire heart; more than herself. He was thankful. He was so thankful, until she became the person that would wait for him to text first or call first, rather than bothering him. She became the place he’d come to, if he needed a person to tell all his matters to. But what she became, that caused her the entire pain in the world, was becoming the one who always waited for him at the table they reserved for their date.

And, together with his promise of never letting her hanging again, Y/N hopefully waited at the table. Her sixth ordered cup of orange juice, had the orange line at the bottom of the cup, letting the waiter know, she had finished another one. Other than a big vase of flowers, and empty eating supplies; that once used to be filled with delicious food, now there was nobody else at the table. She checked the time, and he was now four hours late.

The amount of respect and love Y/N had for Luke, kept her sat on that chair for four hours. And she wouldn’t have even moved, if it wasn’t for the waiter who let her know that there’s a couple that reserved the table after them. She managed to pay him for the drinks, and her trembling body made it out of the now, least favorite restaurant on her list of date places she and Luke went to; well if he came, they would’ve had a great time and she wouldn’t have to put it at the least favorites, just like the one he left her the last time.

With the second time of leaving her hanging, Y/N thought he’d learned from the mistake he made and they wouldn’t need to argue with each other. This---this was another disrespect for her, and God knew where he was. No text, nor calls appeared from him, and it made her more worried, than mad that night.

And like for every person, there’s times where unluckiness catches us in a trap. Suddenly, all that happens that day or night, is bad. It not only ruins our day/night, but it ruins our life and us in whole. It started to pour. Immediately, it soaked Y/N to her bones, and the only escape she had, was to run in those puddles that formed in the cracks of the pavement, and hide under and awning of a bar that was not too far from where she was. Y/N pulled the sides of her jacket towards each other, trying to warm herself, by blowing and rubbing her hands together. The bar seemed to still be opened, but she couldn’t really be sure because it was hard to see from the foggy window. She wiped away the fogginess with her elbow, revealing a surprising picture; one, she couldn’t really believe. Luke, Reggie, Alex and Bobby, all gathered around a girl. Her hair strands, were stuck to her face, and her face was traced with water lines, but not from the rain; she was now, fully in tears. As if four hundred knives were stabbed in her back, Y/N turned her back, and stepped out in the rain---after what she saw, there was nothing that could hurt her more.

She was a slave to the heartache, and it controlled her in every way. Y/N’s broken figure, entered the empty hallway of her home, but luckily her parents were asleep to even see her in that state. And it was for their and her best, even Luke’s, because they were very protective over their daughter. She didn’t even change into pajamas, neither did she dry her hair. The covers were pulled over her body, and she was fast asleep, getting the warmth, of her cold body and warm breathing.

Like others say though, the mother instinct is never wrong. She was fast awake when she heard the doors open. Tip toeing away from her sleeping husband, so he doesn’t argue about leaving their so in love daughter, to live her teenage love years, she slowly opened the door of Y/N’s room. She quietly gasped at the state she was in, and sat on her bed, feeling the soaked clothes she was sleeping in. And it wasn’t only from the rain, but now from the sweating that soaked her pillow. Y/N was shaking, and her cheeks were burning red.

-Wake up, wake up! -she shook her husband. He jumped out of bed, and followed her to their daughters room.

-Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. 

No answer. The next thing, her dad picked her up and rushed to the car in his pajamas, her mother following him. The car drove away from their house, and her dad was driving fast to the hospital. He carried her in his hands, until the medical staff took care of her. She was frozen and her lips were bruised. They put a breathing mask immediately, and her heart rate was very low.

It was a nightmare of a night for the Y/L/N family, and it scared Y/N’s parents, that her mother had to also be taken care of. Her dad got himself a cup of tea from the canteen and sat outside the hospital room, waiting for his wife and daughter to get better. And he waited, until the doctor called him to his office.

-Y/N hadn’t eaten properly for days, and stress reacted even more. Also, she got soaked, which completed the state she is in now. Your daughter needs to eat, Mr. Y/L/N and stay away from stress as much as possible. It’s not a joke, it’s a life we’re talking about; a life of a young person. Here’s the pills she needs to drink for her curing. She’ll be held in the hospital for two days, then we’ll release her home. 

Her dad bought the pills, as soon as he left the office. And the man wasn’t stupid, to not understand that the stress, might involve Luke as well. He didn’t call him though. If the boyfriend of her daughter, was wise enough to check up on his girlfriend, he would’ve called himself. So, he was back to waiting.

Luke on the other hand, was at home. Sweaty from the big performance he had to do that night. And, we would all blame him for leaving Y/N alone, but the reason behind him leaving her hanging, is heartwarming from one side for another person, but painful and risky for Y/N. He changed into clean, and dry clothes, and sat on his bed, to see what Y/N’s up to, and explain what happened, that he couldn’t even text, nor call her. No answer. He called her dad, her mum, but none of them answered. So, he went to bed thinking they’re all sleeping, though, something kept aching his heart, that he couldn’t close his eyes as soon as he placed his head on the pillow. He kept tossing and turning, but it didn’t work, until finally, he found the best position, and fell into a deep sleep.

Y/N’s mother woke up before her the next morning, and stayed listening to her daughter, repeating Luke’s name in her sleep. Though, she also didn’t want to call him, thinking the same way as her husband. Y/N didn’t still open her eyes, and as much as the doctors and nurses wanted to, and even tried waking her, she wasn’t waking up. Her mother now went to treat herself a cup of tea, after the night she had.

-Mrs. Y/L/N? -said a voice from behind her. She turned around with a confused expression, but it dropped when she saw Reggie; Luke’s bandmate, who she met once at a show the Y/L/N family went to, to support Luke.

-Hello Reggie. How are you?

-I’m great Mrs. Y/L/N, actually how are you, is there something wrong?

-Yes Reggie, there is. Y/N is going to be held here for two days. Yesterday she came home soaked, and got sick so we had to rush her to the hospital, because she couldn’t wake up.

-Ca-can I see her please? -his eyes were filled with tears and worry.

-Sure. Come with me. -she placed a hand on his shoulder and walked him to the hospital room. Unnoticeably, he sent and SMS to Luke, quickly sending away what happened to Y/N, hoping his friend will come to take care of his girl.

-Oh no, Y/N. -he said, taking a hold of her frozen hand.

After getting out of the shower, Luke finally looked at his messages, and it took him a second to slip his shoes on, and basically run to the hospital with his wet hair.

-Y/N Y/L/N! -he breathlessly said to the person at the register.

-Room 200. -she said, and he tapped the elevator button, but couldn’t wait for it, so he took the stairs. When he got to the hallway, where her parents were stood, his heart dropped at the scene. Both of them in pajamas still, with barely any sleep, because of him.

-Mrs. Y/L/N. -he said in tears. 

-Go Luke, go next to her. We’ll talk about it later. -she rubbed his back, and he wiped away his tears, and entered the room, where Reggie was waiting, who jumped up and left, so he could be next to Y/N.

-Oh, my beautiful girl. I’m so sorry, it’s my fault.-he brushed away some hair from her face, and trailed his hand down her cheek. He took a hold of both of her hands, kissing them many times, and grabbing the sheets of the bed, so he could quietly cry in them. A warm line was traced under his eyes, and it disappeared at the corner of his eye.

-Don’t cry. -her raspy voice, made it to his ears, as his head shot up.

-Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry-

-Don’t be Luke.-she turned her head to the window, where her parents were stood. She blinked as an approval of them entering the room. 

-Baby. -said her mother, and went to kiss her temple, followed by her dad. -How are you feeling?

-I’m feeling better. Can we go home now? -she lifted herself to sit up, but her mother pressed her down back on the bed.

-The doctor said two days. Tomorrow you’ll be home anyways.

-Fine then. Let’s follow what the doctor said, I guess. -she sent a sad smile towards her parents. They saw what the situation was, and left them alone, even though Y/N’s look begged them not to leave her alone with Luke.

-Can I explain myself? -he asked softly.

-Of course. -she positioned herself, so her back could rest against the pillow.

-We had to do this last minute show, Y/N. It was for a kid’s operation money for aboard, and they needed to be sent that night. They asked us, and we couldn’t say no to that poor family. For else, you know I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes.

-I’m glad the kid’s got operation money. Hope he’ll, heal as soon as possible.

-I’m so sorry, baby. -he said, wiping his tears away and rubbing his wet hands off his jeans, -I’ll leave you now, because it’s obvious you don’t want me here. I’ll come later again, love you so much princess.

She opened her mouth to talk, but Luke was out the door, and he stopped to look at her from the window, but she pretended as if she’s looking out the other window in the room.

-If you loved me, you could’ve at least stayed. I don’t want you to go. -she whispered through her tears. It was the most painful feeling of her life, listening to him say that she doesn’t want him. She wanted him. And it hurt her more and more, knowing he’d done something beautiful for another kid. But he sacrificed her life, and happiness. The part with the girl at the bar, stayed as a question mark in Y/N’s head.

Y/N’s dad had a talk with Luke, and when he explained everything that happened, he couldn’t only be on his side, rather as a father, he took Y/N’s side first, then giving the right to Luke. 

-The choices you make in a relationship, you make for you and your loved one. A relationship is led by two people, and whatever they decided, it should never affect only one person. I know how much you love my daughter, it’s all written in your eyes kid. But I love her more than any other guy could ever love her. She’s a part of my soul, and even if one fiber gets damaged of her, I’ll ruin this world. Make up with her, please, I don’t want to see you grieving for each other. You’re a great couple, and it’s really sad to see her alone in that room over there.

It stayed with him the whole day, those words by Y/N’s father. He sat on his bed, and the only thing that couldn’t make him so helpless was writing. He took his music notebook, and started writing what he felt towards the girl, who was now being begged to eat. It worked after a few tries, but she was able to put some proper food into her system. Alex, Reggie and even Bobby came to visit her. Though, there was a girl waiting at the door; the same girl from the bar.

-Who’s that over there? Why is she standing alone? 

-It’s my girlfriend, Rose. -said Bobby.

-Ah huh. -she said, a sigh of relief was supposed to follow, but instead her heart relaxed, knowing Bobby probably wanted the boys to meet her while they’re there. 

After they left, not too long after, Luke came as promised. This time, he really came, together with his guitar, and bags of fruit he bought.

-You parents said you can’t have any tough food, so I thought your favorite fruits are a great idea. -he left them on the table, and sat down next to Y/N’s bed.

-You came. -Y/N said, holding back a big smile. He looked really handsome, even though he didn’t even try to. It was what had her attracted to him the most at the moment.

-I came to sing you to sleep. -he said, and positioned his guitar. Y/N slipped down to her laying position, and patiently waited for him to start singing. When he did, she realized that the words are completely new, and unknown to her, which meant he wrote them freshly. And he did. He wrote her a song, about how he’s sorry and if he’d take back the time, he’d fix everything, but still remain the Luke she loves.

After he finished, Y/N applauded and rested her hand on a writing, carved onto his guitar.

-Why ‘Y/I’ (Y/I= your initials)? -she traced it with her fingers.

-For Y/N Y/L/N. My Y/N Y/L/N.-he smiled.

Y/N sat up and rested her back against her pillow, as few tears fell down her face, quickly wiping them away so Luke doesn’t notice. He still thought she was mad at him, with the right to be, so he nodded his head and sat up to leave the room, just like he did earlier, although this time, it wasn’t clear if he would come back again. Y/N swiftly lingered her fingers onto his, and it gave her life; his touch.

-I-I need you...Let’s make up. -she said and swallowed her tears. Luke slowly spun around and sat on the bed. She cupped his face and wiped away his tears, as he did the same, resting their foreheads on top of each other.

-I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry for doing the same mistake again. Please forgive me and give me the chance to make up to you. I love you so much,

-It’s fine Luke. It all was gone with another day. Let’s focus on the ones that are coming. I love you too, so much. And the song was beautiful, I can’t even explain to you.

-Yeah? Well, since we made up and sang a song, you must now eat at least one orange, okay?

-Okay fine. -she said lazily, and Luke managed to peel one for her. She made a sour face when she tasted it, and Luke placed a kiss to her lips, getting a taste of its bitterness and making a face as well, which made her laugh. For the first time since the day before, she managed to remember what laughing feel like. As well as crying, and going through pain, all because of the one boy, she loved with her entire life. Mutually getting the same love, from him; her Luke Patterson.

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

Okay so with Piper and Ethan? How do they meet exactly? How does the stroy actually begin.

“Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight—“ Ethan placed his car keys into his front pocket as he walked through the doors. Pushing on the glass, a smear of strawberry jam left behind from his thumb— crumbs on his dress shirt as he swallowed the last bit of his soggy cold breakfast, half a piece of toast Lexi didn’t finish.

Monday mornings were always the toughest, always the earliest. Always, in Ethan’s case, the worst day of the week. Back to back classes and a steady stream of pre and post pubescent teenagers disregarding the information he tried desperately to teach them had Ethan, by the end of his mondays, screaming to the heavens above to just give him one kid that listens to him. 

Ethan sighed as he watched the crowd in the main hallway get bigger and bigger. A fight— a growing amount of teenagers egging the two boys at the centre of it all on. Screaming “fight, fight, fight, fight.” As they did so. Ethan manoeuvred himself through the teens, pushing past to break up the fight. His laptop case hanging off his side.

“Hey! Hey! Enough—Anderson, hey Oliver, that’s enough— that’s enough—“ the second Oliver Anderson turned around and collided his scrunched up fist into Ethan’s nose had the entire crowd dispersing with accidentally perfect videos on their Snapchat and Instagram stories. Ethan groaned, covering his nose as he looked up. Hunched over slightly as Oliver stood before him. Shocked that he’d just punched, on accident, his Media and tech skills teacher. Mr Dolan.

“Mr Dolan—“ his knuckles stung. The other guy, John Harrison, saw his opportunity and ditched out. Not ready to be dragged down to the principals office by his ear. This time anyway.

“Principles office, now Oliver.” 

“I’m so sorry I—“

“Don’t make me say it again, get to the principles office now.” Ethan shoved at his shoulder slightly. Kicking the kid into gear.

“Don’t call my mum.”

“You punched me in the face kid you’ll find yourself lucky if calling your mums the only thing we do— it’s a Monday morning! Why’d you have to punch me in the face on a Monday morning.” Ethan held his head up. Walking Oliver to the principals office. Ethan liked to give kids the benefit of the doubt, it’s something his dad always did. But today was not that day.

“Are you saying if I’d done it on a Wednesday—“

“Shut up Anderson.”

Principal Yang was calm on the phone, informing Pipper Reid, a 32 year old single mum of one out of control teenage boy. A kindergarten teacher, listening to how her son had started a fight on school grounds, she wished there was a way to keep them so small. So innocent and fragile.

“I can’t leave till lunch Mr Yang—“ she sighed as she watched her little ones play in free time from the door of her classroom. “Can you uh, keep him in some sort of detention till I can get there?”

“Mrs Anderson—“

“It’s Miss Reid actually, Julian c’mon, you know this, it’s Miss Reid, has been for a long time now.” Pipper sighed. “Just let him sit and stew for a while till I can get there, he shouldn’t be acting this way. I—I don’t know what’s gotten into him, his a good kid.”

“The absence of a fatherly figure during these times can sometimes—“

“Don’t tell me I’m not doing my best! Because you know I am, Oliver’s a good kid.” Piper didn’t mean to raise her voice. “I’ll be there a soon as I can.” It was Lexi who calmed Miss Reid down when she hung up.

“Miss Reid? I know you’re busy but I wanted to colour and I didn’t want to take the good pencils off your desk without asking, so may I please borrow the good colouring pencils?” It made Piper smile bright as she leaned down to pinch Lexis nose softly— not know her dad who had the same one was nursing a swollen one her son a decked him with earlier that morning.

“Course sweetheart.”

“Yeah she won’t be in till her lunch break.”’Yang sighed as he rung up the phone. Ethan groaned as Oliver smirked. Slumping back in his chair across the desk from where principal Yang sat. Ethan leaning on the bench behind him.

“I told you that—“

“Listen kid, this is serious, the police could get involved if Mr Dolan here wants to press charges of assult.”

“I’m a minor though!” Oliver growled.

“Juvenal detention exists for a reason champ—“ Ethan huffed through his swollen nose. “Can’t have a kid with a mean hook like yourself roaming the halls doing damage to anyone who tries to get within a foot of you.” Ethan was being sarcastic, but it struck a nerve in Oliver.

“You suck you know that, all my friends always talk about how cool your are, how you’re one of the better teachers, but in reality your just a fucking looser who can’t take a hit.” Ethan lunged forward while Yang held him back— it wasn’t one of Ethan’s finest moments. The kid was 15.

“I can’t wait till your mother shows up—“

“She probably won’t! She’s got priorities! She works.”

“why’d you punch me?” Ethan pressed.

“It was an accident!”

“You turned around and got me right in the nose—“

“YOU GRABBED MY SHOULDER!”

“To stop you from laying into another student!” Ethan hissed. Principal Yang sighed as he watched the two go back and forth in his office.

“Alright that’s enough you two, Oliver, go down to detention and just sit there—face the wall, do some homework, play in your phone I don’t care just don’t bother anyone till your mother arrives and we can reconvene and discuss appropriate punishment, Dolan?” Ethan raised his eyebrow in response as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Go do what you do best, teach.” Ethan flared down at Oliver who barley hard the heart to look at Ethan.

“I’m not doing because you told me to I’m going because I like my next class Julian—“

“Dolan just go—“ Me Yang chuckled as Ethan bellowed down the hall over his shoulder.

“I’m coming for your job Mr Julian Yang and you know I’d do it better!!”

Ethan Dolan was a good teacher, he enjoyed what he did. He liked being able to mold the minds of a younger generation— even if most of them didn’t want a bar of what he was trying to teach. There were some though, and they always made it easier.

“Alright, now when we’re filming, lighting is important—without good lighting, you don’t have a good short. If the light is coming from behind you it’s gonna cast a shadow over you, so it’s best if—“ a knock at the door interrupted Ethan’s class. Oliver shoot small and hunched over in defeat. Ethan knew it was time, he was ready to give this kids parents or parents if you will a piece of his mind. “Excuse me everyone, continue working on your settings, lighting, exposure and all that fun stuff— I’ll be back soon and don’t even think about messing around mrs Johnson is next door and the walls are incredibly thin.”

He was ready, he’d been waiting for this, Ethan nose was throbbing and he was ready to give Oliver’s mum a piece of his mind. Until he saw her. Sitting in the same chair Oliver was sitting on earlier. A lot younger than he thought she’d be, around if not the same age at Ethan.

“Oliver!! What did you do what has gotten into you!” Pipper hissed as he slumped in the chair beside her. “Mr Dolan—I’m do sorry, he’s normally a very good kid” Ethan was speechless from the get go. Rage no longer there.

“It’s uh—it’s Ethan actually.” Oliver scoffed.

“I just don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“Kids, what are you gonna do am I right?” Pipper settled into her chair a little deeper, not so on edge after Ethan didn’t lose his cool. Me Yang sat stern, locking eyes with Piper.

“I’d encourage Oliver to seek out anger management, but physically assult on one of my teachers is unacceptable. The police—“

“Look we don’t need to get the police in here do we Julian?” Ethan interrupted. “I’m fine, everyone’s fine.”

“We can’t let this incident go without punishment, mr Dolan.” Yang sighed as he looked at Oliver who couldn’t handle his mother’s eyes staring him down in disappointment.

“I’ll take him under my wing— a mentor type situation, keeps him on the straight and narrow and everyone goes about their lives without records.”

“I don’t wanna spend him with you!” Oliver hissed as Ethan sighed.

“You and I both don’t have an option kid— you punched me? This isn’t a joke—why were you even fighting that guy anyway?” Ethan asked as Piper looked at her son. Asking again:

“Why’d you do it O?” Oliver broke— he cried in front of his mother, principal Yang and Ethan, it broke his heart.

“John said dad left because you stopped putting out, I didn’t mean to punch you Mr Dolan— I just I was blind, he sucks and no one says shit about my mum. Ever.” Oliver sucked up his tears. Me touch guy once again. Ethan sighed as he tapped Oliver’s shoulder:

“I would’ve done the same kid, looks like your stuck with me.” 



[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Tomorrow I’m posting a hidden moment about what happens once the kids are at school and two former marauders are left alone. Stay tuned! -Danny

Words: 4,225 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Better Off’ -by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Chapter Six: Hidden Nightmares.

"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and his magical eye swivelling around to gaze into the side of his head. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it was looking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin.

"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ron with his normal eye, "authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you..."

Mel took her friend away from Moody in case he decided to continue trying to scare him to death.

"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks as she walked past them. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" said Ginny.

"Like the ability to behave myself."

"Same reason why Mel didn't get a badge," Emily walked past her daughter. "I hope this works as a lesson..."

"Sure does, now I know I'm doing something right," Mel smirked.

"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked.

"No one would have made me a prefect! I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge."

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."

"What about my dad?"

"Matthew was a brilliant student but Dumbledore knew that giving him the badge would've been like given us green light to go around doing whatever we pleased," Sirius grinned.

"Again, same the reason why Dumbledore didn't give you a badge," Lupin smiled.

"You really think I would let my friends do mischief without any consequences?" Mel feigned indignation.

"Yes," The three adults replied.

"Well, I think I'll sort out that boggart before I turn in... Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, all right? 'Night, dears."

Mel walked into Harry just as he was getting up and she stumbled backwards.

"Sorry," He said quickly.

"It's fine..."

"You all right?" Moody asked them.

"Yeah, fine."

"Lovely dinner," Mel smiled tensely.

"Come here, I've got something that might interest you," He told them.

From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one... Thought people might like to see it."

Harry took the photograph and Mel leaned closer to take a look.

"There's me," said Moody. "And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side... That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom — Poor devils, better dead than what happened to them... and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously... Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him... shift aside there–

That's Edgar Bones... brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard... Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young... Caradoc Dearborn vanished six months after this, we never found his body... Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever... Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat... Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes... budge along, budge along... That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke..."

It was the first time she'd ever seen of her grandfather. He looked a lot like Dumbledore, but he lacked the warm gaze and the fancy robes. He had the same hair colour as her though, and there was a similarity between his nose and her dad's.

"That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally... Sirius, when he still had short hair... and... there you go, thought that would interest you! Eh?"

Five people were staring up at them: Petter Pettigrew, Lily and James Potter, and her own parents.

"That's great," She tried to sound enthusiastic. "Look at that..."

"Yeah," Harry's voice sounded heavy. "Er... listen, I've just remembered, I haven't packed my..."

"What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?" Sirius asked loudly from the table.

Harry left so quickly she almost thought he'd disapparated, she understood though, that picture was full of ghosts, and for some reason, she felt kind of responsible for them– maybe Harry felt that way too, after all, it was him Voldemort was after...

The adults surrounded the table and stared at the picture, there were tons of quiet exclamations and nostalgic chuckles as they examined it, but what made her leave the room was the way she knew her mother and Sirius had finally found their friends' faces staring up at them, she could see something dark and heavy falling on their features.

Mel didn't feel like sticking around to hear stories about when they were all young and alive, when Peter was still Peter and not the traitor that had gotten his friends killed. It was stupid to remember something they couldn't have back.

She was in the main hall when she heard someone crying.

"No! No... riddikulus! Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS !"

Mel ran up the stairs and found Harry looking at Mrs Weasley... She was sobbing above a second Harry, only that this one was dead.

'Boggart', Mel thought.

"Harry, we need to get help–"

"Mrs Weasley, just get out of here!" Harry's eyes fixed on the vision of his own body. "Let someone else —"

"What's going on?" Lupin rushed in followed by Sirius and Emily. Moody was right behind them."Riddikulus!"

Mrs Weasley wept harder.

"Molly– Molly, don't... Molly, it was just a boggart," Lupin patted her head gently. "Just a stupid boggart..."

"I see them d-d-dead all the time! All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it..."

She had been dreaming the same thing that summer– hell, her boggart had been the same thing years before that! Seeing it again that night caught her off guard. A thousand different images of Harry trapped in the cemetery came to her, the pain she'd felt that night, the memory of Cedric's body laying on the grass...

She tried to get out of the room as fast as possible.

"D-d-don't tell Arthur– I d-d-don't want him to know... Being silly... Harry, I'm so sorry, what must you think of me? Not even able to get rid of a boggart..."

"Don't be stupid," said Harry, sounding impressively calm.

"I'm just s-s-so worried– Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this... and P-P-Percy's not talking to us... What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," said Lupin. "This isn't like last time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to — Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing it — look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time, you weren't in the Order then, you don't understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one..."

"Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius. "He'll come round. It's a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology..."

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," Lupin looked up to Emily and smiled a bit, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?"

"Certainly not!" Emily kneeled beside her, hugging her by the shoulders. "Not after all you've done for us! After seeing how much you care about Harry! You're one of the best friends I've had in a long time, I would never abandon your children..."

Harry turned and locked eyes with Mel. He had a distraught expression on his face as he watched her cover her mouth, struggling to breathe.

One time when she was six, Mel had to be taken to the nurse because some kids cornered her in the playground and she lost it; a teacher carried her out. When her mother arrived they told her Mel had suffered a panic attack.

A panic attack wasn't exactly a good omen nor the best way to spend her last night before going back to school, but she had no control over it.

"Deep breaths, Mel..." Harry muttered, quickly making his way towards her. "It's okay–"

The boy tried to touch her and that stirred her into action. Mel slapped his hand out of the way and ran out before someone could stop her. She ran up all the way to Buckbeak's layer and she locked herself there until her crying stopped.

"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs Weasley yelled.

Mel let out a pained groan, her head was pounding after last night and all she wanted was to get to the train so she could take a nap. Mrs Black's portrait was howling, but no one tried to close the curtains since the house was loud with voices coming from every floor, all gathering their stuff before leaving.

"I'm dying," The girl leaned on her mother's shoulder. The woman ran her fingers through her hair tenderly.

"You had a rough night. Been years since you had one of those..."

"It was the stupid boggart," She muttered. "I'm okay now. I'll see Erick, so that's kind of cool..."

"You and Harry haven't talked, then?"

"Mum..."

"I'm not trying to force you–"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

A dog ran into the hall, looking rather lively.

"Oh honestly... well, on your own head be it!"

Mrs Weasley, Emily, Mel, Harry and Sirius all left the house together.

"Where's Tonks?" Harry asked.

"She's waiting for us just up here," said Mrs Weasley.

"Wotcher, guys," Tonks -disguised as an old woman- winked at them. "Better hurry up, hadn't we?"

"I know, I know... but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis... If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again... but Fudge wouldn't let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days... How Muggles can stand travelling without magic..."

Sirius was having the time of his life though, running around chasing pigeons and barking loudly. Mel and Harry laughed at his antics, Emily rolled her eyes and mumbled something about him being a child.

As they walked through the streets watching Sirius chase cats and go crazy with the poor birds, she felt Harry glancing at her from time to time. Mel knew he only wanted to help, and perhaps he was a little hurt about the way she'd reacted last night. However, she was far from even acknowledging that she'd cried in front of so many people.

"I felt it, you know?" Harry said when no one was paying attention. "Your panic attack..."

"I figured," Mel said numbly. "It's the lifeline... doesn't matter, I have it under control."

"I could've helped," He insisted. "When we were little–"

"We're not little anymore," She replied sternly. "You handle your stuff, I handle mine. That's what we agreed on."

Harry's jaw clenched, he didn't speak after that.

It felt like a type of rebirth when she crossed the platform and found herself in front of the scarlet train.

"I hope the others make it in time," said Mrs Weasley.

"Nice dog, guys!" called Lee Jordan.

"Thanks, Lee," said Harry.

Sirius made a show of himself, acting as the perfect puppy.

"Mel, come here for a moment," Emily drew her away from the group, looking anxious.

"What is it?"

"I didn't say anything until now because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable during your stay but... oh, well..."

She noticed how her mother glanced at Sirius, who was rolling around at Harry's feet.

"Mum... Are you and Sirius... a thing?"

Her mother hesitated.

"I know you've noticed how... I mean, we've... we're not exactly together."

"Oh," She frowned. "Why not?"

"What?"

"If you want to be a couple, then be one."

"I... you... you're not upset?"

Mel gave her a small smile. "You deserve to be happy. I want you to be happy. If being with Sirius gives you that, I have nothing against it. He's a good man– bit stubborn, but he treats you well, right?"

"He was always a good friend..."

"I hope all goes well, then."

The woman stared as if she'd mistaken Mel for someone else.

"You have more of Matthew than you could ever have of me, you know?" Emily beamed. "I'm thankful for that."

"Sirius would be an idiot if he rejects you, to be honest."

Her mother laughed.

"Don't get your hopes up about this, though..."

"I trust you," Mel brushed it off, hugging her one last time before going back to the group.

Five minutes later Lupin was wishing her a safe journey. Mel held onto him tightly, his scent filling her lungs.

"I'm going to miss you lots," She mumbled against his chest.

"You'll see me soon," Lupin rubbed her back. "Now, just because you weren't made a prefect doesn't mean you're allowed to misbehave. Make us proud."

Sirius ran up to her and crashed against her legs, she kneeled and hugged him as well.

"I'll miss you too, Snuffles... look after my mother while I'm gone, okay?"

He barked, snuggling his face closer to hers.

"Well, look after yourselves," Lupin told the rest of the teenagers. "You too, Harry. Be careful."

"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," said Moody. "And don't forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."

"It's been great meeting all of you," said Tonks. "We'll see you soon, I expect."

"Quick, quick," said Mrs Weasley as the whistle blew a second time. "Write... Be good... If you've forgotten anything we'll send it on... Onto the train, now, hurry..."

For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry's shoulders, but Mrs Weasley shoved Harry away toward the train door hissing, "For heaven's sake act more like a dog, Sirius!"

"See you!" Harry yelled from the door.

The black dog chased the train barking madly until they turned, then he vanished.

"He shouldn't have come with us," Hermione murmured.

"Oh lighten up, he hasn't seen daylight for months, poor bloke," Ron shook his head.

"Well, can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. Are you coming with us, Lady?" Fred asked.

"Maybe later," She shrugged.

"All right, see you later!"

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked.

"Er..."

"We're — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione said awkwardly.

Suddenly Mel felt really bad about not going with Fred and George.

"Oh," Harry tensed next to her. "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said the girl. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Fine– Well, we... might see you later, then."

"Yeah, definitely. It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather — but we have to — I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy."

"I know you're not," said Harry.

"I'll tell Erick you say hi, Mel," Hermione offered, thinking that would ease her mind.

"Brilliant," She said without much excitement.

"Come on," Ginny spoke, Mel felt immense relief as she turned to look at the girl, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

"Right," said Harry, and he looked as pleased as her.

After a while of silent walking, they ran into Neville, which was even better, more people to talk to.

"Hi, guys– Hi, Ginny... Everywhere's full... I can't find a seat..."

"What are you talking about?" said Ginny. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here —"

"I don't want to disturb anyone..."

"Don't be silly," Ginny chuckled. "She's all right."

They all followed her inside.

"Hi, Luna! Is it okay if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.

"Thanks," said Ginny.

In the middle of all the movement of putting away trunks and pets, Mel and Harry somehow found themselves seated together. The girl thought it'd look suspicious if she were to move now, it would confirm that she was actively avoiding him.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter."

"I know I am," said Harry, frowning slightly.

Her eyes then moved to the next person, which happened to be her.

"You're a Dumbledore."

"Yeah, people keep saying that," Mel said.

Luna moved to Neville. "And I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody," He said.

"No you're not," said Ginny. "Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," sang Luna.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?" Neville asked them.

"Another Remembrall?" Harry teased.

"No– I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago... No, look at this... Mimbulus mimbletonia."

"Sick!" Mel beamed. "Er- in a good way..."

"It's really, really rare," said Neville excitedly. "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My great-uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

"If you do manage, I'd love to have one," Mel eyed the plant with interest.

Harry did a strange noise next to her and she stared back, daring him to speak.

"Does it — er — do anything?" He asked, glancing nervously at her.

"Loads of stuff! It's got an amazing defensive mechanism — hold Trevor for me..."

Neville put the toad on Harry's hands. Luna was staring again.

Neville held the Mimbulus mimbletonia up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, chose his spot and gave the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill.

Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant, thick, stinking, dark-green jets of it; they hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna Lovegood's magazine. Ginny, who had flung her arms up in front of her face just in time, merely looked as though she was wearing a slimy green hat, but Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing the escape of Trevor, received a face full. It smelled like rancid manure.

Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst out of his eyes.

"S-sorry," he gasped. "I haven't tried that before... Didn't realize it would be quite so... Don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he added nervously, as Harry spat a mouthful onto the floor.

Mel cackled, cleaning her face without an ounce of grumpiness.

"That was amazing!"

The door of their compartment slid open abruptly.

"Oh... hello, Harry. Um... bad time?" Cho stared at the lot with an anxious expression.

"Oh... hi," Harry quickly tried to clean his face.

"It's a terrible time," Mel said brightly, "We stink."

"Um... well... just thought I'd say hello... 'bye then."

Cho Chang was blushing when she closed the door. She heard Harry groan and fall back on his seat.

"Never mind," said Ginny. "Look, we can get rid of all this easily. Scourgify!"

"Sorry," said Neville timidly.

"Don't be, that was really interesting to watch," Mel smiled.

Neville blushed at her comment.

"I'm starving," Ron walked in, Mel quickly made room between her and Harry, which he took without even noticing.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House," said Hermione. "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron.

"Malfoy," replied Harry.

" 'Course," Ron made a face.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione to Mel. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

"Cheating of course," Mel shrugged.

"Who's Hufflepuff?" Harry asked.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione. "Oh! Erick seemed fine, Mel– couldn't talk to him because of Malfoy, of course..."

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," Ron explained, "and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something..."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!"

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all."

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For heaven's sake, Ron —"

"He's not being unfair, is he?" Mel defended him. "If anyone deserves detention, that's them..."

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," Ron then pretended to be the Slytherin. "I... must... not... look... like... a... baboon's... backside..."

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. She laughed so hard that her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs, and onto the floor.

"That was funny!"

Her prominent eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the ludicrously prolonged laughter of Luna Lovegood, who was rocking backward and forward, clutching her sides.

"Are you taking the mickey?"

"Baboon's... backside!"

"Hey, Lovegood," Mel grinned. "We're going to be great friends..."

"Can I have a look at this?" Harry asked Luna. He was staring at the magazine she'd dropped. "Mel, have a look at this, will you?"

He was showing her an article over Ron's shoulder.

SIRIUS - Black As He's Painted?

Notorious Mass Murderer OR Innocent Singing Sensation?

For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black's audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the dementors.

BUT DOES HE?

"What is this?" Mel asked, her voice slightly shaking with contained laughter.

"Hang on," Harry said distractedly. "This one's about Fudge.."

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister of Magic five years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to "cooperate peacefully" with the guardians of our gold.

BUT DOES HE?

Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be.

"It wouldn't be the first time, either," said a Ministry insider. "Cornelius 'Goblin-Crusher' Fudge, that's what his friends call him..."

"Anything good in there?" asked Ron.

"Of course not," said Hermione. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna. "My father's the editor."

Mel had to bit her lip to not make a sound.

"I — oh. Well... it's got some interesting... I mean, it's quite..."

"I'll have it back, thank you," Luna took back the magazine and buried her face behind it.

The door to the compartment opened again.

"What?" Harry snapped at Malfoy.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention... You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah, but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

The group laughed. Mel felt something crawling up her chest, ready to pounce.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione.

"I seem to have touched a nerve... Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Get out!" said Hermione sharply.

Mel's heart skipped a beat.

Dogging.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​

[palettepainter]

I’ve got post vaccine (moderna gang) shivers so I need to express fluff headcanons to spread good vibes

When Ecto was planning to propose, he had to keep it so hush hush because Higari can easily find things out. He didn’t tell anyone but higaris mother and his own parents. He was very happy that Higari was actually surprised with the proposal. Higari wears the rings on a necklace- his quirk doesn’t exactly make wedding rings easy to find.

As much as Higari prefers being a support hero, search and rescue jobs that go smoothly it’s very rewarding. He often checks up on those he’s managed to rescue, keeps in touch with some too. There’s this lovely older woman who he rescued from a crumbling retirement home who sends him baked goods every holiday. He visits her every month for tea.

When Ecto is sick, Higari cares for him easily. Even when Ecto acts like he isn’t sick. He’ll make him soup, make sure he’s resting, cold compress on his forehead. As stubborn as he is, ecto appreciates it.

Higaris favorite memory with his dad is digging around in the yard with him. Since they had the same quirks, it worked out. He showed him how to carve tunnels without the ground crumbling, or just played around in the dirt. There’s a picture of Higari when he was three, covered in dirt with his head peaking out of a hole. His dad was grinning, sitting near by like he was cheering him on. Sometimes, especially on days where thinking about his dad is hard, he’ll tell Ecto stories.

As someone who also got shivers after getting a vaccine I know the feeling, how you’re doing well!

Ecto proposing, Yes! I love the idea of Ecto proposing to Higari, and his rugged flirting smirking self just crumbles in the face of Ecto holding a ring to him. Ecto’s eyes are so full of love and he has such a soft grin on his face that Higari can’t help but tearing up, he tries to think of something flirty to say back, but he just can’t. He’s overwhelmed - probably ended up tackling Ecto in a hug with a big kiss, which threw Ecto off guard, thinking at first maybe he’d overwhelmed Higari when he started crying.

Higari wearing is around his neck, also yes. Higari’s wedding ring is the only thing that he will spend careful hours cleaning and polishing at the end of each day to make sure it stays in good condition, wears is around UA proudly - though I imagine for interviews outside of UA or when he’s called out for hero work he leaves it at home in a special box on his dresser or safely tucks it away in a drawer in the design studio, as much as he loves wearing the rink around his neck he dreads the thought of loosing it in a rescue, or having some nosy reports pester him for answers if they catch sight of it. 

With Higari’s gear I’m a firm believer he’d be a great rescue hero in say like natural disasters or if a building collapsed. With his giant robotic suit and his know how on construction he could easily map a safe route to evacuate citizens from an unstable building, or quickly find a way to clean up after a land slide. Need to move a giant tree? No problem he’ll move it no prob. Citizen can’t move because they’re leg hurts? He can carry em out to safety. Kids they rescued are bored while they’re waiting for parents to pick them up? Higari tolerates them clambering about on his hero suit like it’s a jungle gym

Anything with Higari caring for Ecto or vise versa is so wholesome! In my NGAU I imagine Higari prolly knows all the tricks to help when someone is sick, he grew up in a big house with tones of little siblings, as kids they got sick a lot with how often they played in the garden and mud, they’ve all got very strong immune systems so it’s rare Higari or his siblings get sick - but Higari still knows all the tricks to help nursing someone back to health. He remembers to give Ecto some medicine, make him some soup, hot water bottle if he’d cold, flannel if he’s too hot and plenty of liquids. A teenie tiny part of Ecto might even enjoy all the attention, appreciating Higari’s concern. Too bad Higari is too stubborn to actually treat himself when he’s sick, with how little he gets sick he doesn’t take it all that seriously - thankfully Ecto is a patient man with many clones, so is willing to drag Higari back to bed if needed XD

And the last one with his dad...

Anon: Are you trying to make me cry-

In my NGAU Powerloader’s dad was all over him, spoiled Higari so so much. Spent many lazy afternoons slacking off work when the missus wasn’t looking to play around with Higari (bragged for like a week straight that he got his quirk, proud dad moment). Higari’s mother came out into the garden to see how the boys where doing, she finds her husband and toddler son covered head to toe in dirt and mud. She gets angry at them, insisting the two need a bath if they want to have dinner. Toddler Higari hated baths from the day he was born apparently, and it’s only until dear old papa gives him a bath is he willing to get clean. His dad puts bubbles in Higari’s hair, and Higari splashes bubbles onto his dads beard, who then makes a silly face to make Higari laugh. Too bad only one hour after tea the two got dirty again-

The first time Higari used his quirk was when he was outside with his dad. His dad was working on fixing up the shed, Higari sitting in a small play pen outside with some toys while his dad stood close by, able to work while also keeping an eye on Higari. Higari, bored of playing with his building blocks, begins to drag his little hands at the ground, and before he knows it he’s tunneling his way to freedome beyond the bounds of his baby playpen. This kind of scneario probably ensued:

Kaigo (PL’s dad): Phew *picks up tool box and turns around* Alright sweetpea, time to go back insi- *freezes when he sees the playpen is empty, and no baby in sight* W-WHAT?! *drops tool box, and rapidly looks around* Uh- H-Higari?! Sweetpea?! Where’d you go?? Come to dad, this isn’t funny! *rushes around a bit*

Higari: *tunnles his way up to the surface in his mothers flowerbed, a small pile of dirt with a flower sticking out the top sitting on his head*

Kaigo: *searching in the bushes* H-Higari?! Higari! Where are you?! *mumbles* Shit I took my eyes off him for two minutes! Where the hell could he-

Higari: BAPA!

Kaigo: *jumps and whirls around*..*heaves and sigh and rushes over* Oh thank god! *scoops him into his arms for a hug* You stupid lil’ ankle biter! Don’t you ever do that again! *holds him out at arms length* How in the world did you even get out??

Higari: *sneezes from the dirt, making the flower fall off his head*

Kaigo:..Wait. Did..D-Did you, DIG your way out?!

Higari: *incoherent baby noises*

Kaigo;...Ooooh you are in SO much trouble young man, you know how many years off my life you just took? Huh?...*scowls as Higari giggles* Oh so you think this is FUNNY?-

Higari: *grabs his nose* BA!

Kaigo:............*sighs* You’re damn lucky you’re cute, you know that?...Uh, how about we DON’T tell your Ma about this, okay?

Ever since then his dad had to watch him like a hawk, one minute Higari was sitting playing with his toys, the next he was trying to dig his way to the other side of the world. When he was old enough his dad did give him some lessons in how to dig safely so the ground wouldn’t become unstable. I imagine Higari may have madea  few tunnels as a kid that where too close to the surface, and his very unsuspecting mum and dad would just sink into the ground collapsing an old tunnel Higari made. And Higari having pictures?? YES. His mum probably has a whole stash of pictures of Higari as a baby playing outside with his dad and her. Including the embarrassing photos, the kind of photos Higari would never want Ecto to see, but his mum showed him anyway. 

Now I wanna write angst with Powerloader and his dad aaaaa-

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

stephanie perkins: ‘anna and the french kiss’

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Then again, if you’ve read any YA book, ever, it’s fairly obvious what’s going to happen.

I was going to go easy on this book; I really was. It’s really unfair how media aimed at a female demographic is seen as frivolous and vapid, and more often than not bashed and bullied when it comes to reviews. “People actually enjoy this crap?” ask the powers that be. “It’s worthless! Pulp! Dreamy-eyed nonsense only complete nimrods could ever like!”

And I take offense to that. There’s nothing wrong with liking romance or happy endings or stories about cute European boys. I was ecstatic when I stumbled across Anna and the French Kiss upon a chance trip to the bookstore. The cover was… meh (Century Gothic? Really? There were no other fonts?). But I’d heard nothing but praise about the book, and I was prepared to stay up all night and into the wee hours of the morning to finish it.

Admittedly, I was far from impressed upon the first reading. The characters were unlikable, the plot would’ve worked better for less shitty characters, honestly fuck these characters am I supposed to like them, fuck Anna, fuck Étienne, fuck Bridgette, fuck Toph, fuck Dave and Meredith and Amanda and Seany and every other stupid character in this stupid book.

The second time around, I expected to not hate it as much as I did when I first read it. It’s happened- I hated Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda when I first read it, and when I read it again, all that red-hot anger simmered down into an overall dislike. I thought To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before was trash at first, and then I read it again, and it got promoted to recyclable waste matter.

I found Anna and the French Kiss horrendous the first time I read it, and then I read it again, and… yeah, it’s still pretty awful.

Le Sommaire:

Anna Oliphant is a seventeen-year-old wannabe film critic who is #NotLikeOtherGirls – so she’s exactly like every other female YA lead. To her credit, she never explicitly says she’s special… everyone around her does.

She has a pretty meh life in Atlanta, Georgia with her mum and little bruv Sean- and then her dad decides to ship her off to France for her final year of high school. I’m not judging Anna for bawling her eyes out on her first day; I’m a huge mummy’s girl myself and I’d probably (definitely) do the same.

Meredith is Anna’s next-door neighbor, who does that thing which only happens in YA where she’s like “Oh, newbie? Let’s be friends!” (Or maybe it does happen irl and I tend to make a bad first impression which is why no one has ever approached me.)

Meredith’s friends are: Rashmi and Josh (who are a couple), and Étienne St. Clair. Guess which one is the love interest.

Étienne is cultured in that white person way where he’s half American, one quarter French and one quarter British. A true international.

But- *gasp*- American-British-French boy has a girlfriend, Ellie.

Anna has an absolutely gorgeous punk rocker (yum) boy with sideburns (yikes) back home named Christopher. Also, Christopher’s nickname is ‘Toph’ instead of ‘Chris’ because he too is #NotLikeOtherGirls. Anna tells us that nothing will happen between her and Étienne.

Anna is wrong.

Meredith has a crush on Étienne. So does the Regina George of the school, Amanda.

Étienne and Anna have some moments ™.

♫ Everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but Anna ♫

I tear my hair out in frustration.

Several other white boys vie for Anna’s heart. Anna remains blissfully unaware (♫ that’s what makes you beautiful ♫). Étienne (who is still dating Ellie, mind you) is unreasonably agitated by this.

Étienne’s mum has cancer btw, which excuses all the shitty things he does, because he’s just a poor, misunderstood boy.

Ellie dresses up as a, quote unquote, ‘slutty nurse’ for Hallowe’en, though- so it’s perfectly okay to dislike her (even though, in the first interaction she had with Anna, where Ellie meets Anna and Étienne, after Étienne takes Anna to the movies, Ellie is perfectly sweet).

Anna, however, is NOT a slut. Amanda is, though. And Rashmi’s cold. And Meredith’s desperate. And Emily’s a slut, too. And her friend Bridgette from Atlanta is a traitor. Anna has an intense case of internalized misogyny.

Anna’s friend Bridgette from Atlanta is screwing Toph, and Anna throws a fit.

Étienne and Anna have some more moments ™.

A truly chaotic series of events befall Anna. She somehow winds up dating Dave (one from the harem of white boys who likes her) to spite Étienne, she gets into a fight with Amanda, more drama ensues, there’s a hint for a spinoff, Étienne and her kiss, Meredith sees and feels betrayed… several misunderstandings and more bullshit later, Étienne and Anna wind up together, because true love conquers all.

Mes Réflexions:

(If the French is off, blame Google Translate.)

Usually, it takes me half a page of my notebook to scribble down my thoughts about the book I’m reading. This motherfucker took me almost an entire page.

Granted, a solid 30% of those notes are me throwing insults at Étienne, but still. ‘STOP STOP STOP YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND YOU DICK’ counts, right?

(That was #17 in my notes, by the way.)

For the record, I like Stephanie Perkins’s writing. It’s not as over-the-top and unnecessarily introspective as Jenny Han’s in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, and the interactions between Anna and her classmates were natural and not the “How do you do, fellow kids?” style of Becky Albertalli’s Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda. The pacing is decent- I didn’t feel like it was too rushed; not the insta-love trope most YA romances unfortunately fall prey to.

And yet. AND YET.

Anna: “What’s your problem?” Amanda: “You.”

Same, Amanda, same.

Anna Oliphant is one of my least favorite leads in a book, ever. Étienne’s even shittier. And it’s not like Nick or Amy Dunne from Gone Girl, or any of the main characters from The Secret History, where readers pretty much unanimously hate them. You’re meant to relate to Anna, you’re meant to find Étienne charming and dreamy. I literally had to put the book away and calm myself down several times- especially in the last quarter of the book.

One of my main gripes with Anna is how… dumb she is. I guess Anna’s “Oopsies, silly me, I don’t know French!” is meant to be relatable to the readers. And some parts (like her not knowing how to order food because she can’t speak French) are plausible, but- sis, you didn’t know how to spell oui? And my idea of a cinematic masterpiece is Kung-Fu Panda, but even a dumbass like me knows that France is the film appreciation capital of the world. And yet Anna, a self-professed film freak, doesn’t?

Of course, Anna’s gorgeous, but she has no clue, because of course she doesn’t- even though she has multiple guys falling head over heels for her.

I’m in a short skirt. It’s the first time I’ve worn one here, but my birthday seems like the appropriate occasion. “Woo, Anna!” Rashmi fake-adjusts her glasses. “Why do you hide those things?”

Étienne is staring at my legs. The scales covering them throb under his intense gaze, and the pincers sticking out of my thighs start clicking rapidly in arousal. My hooves shiver in ecstasy.

… sorry, that’s not funny.

Her friends think Anna’s weird for wanting to write film reviews (which is the most contrived thing I’ve ever heard) instead of being the next Margot Robbie or whatever, but of course Étienne doesn’t and he thinks it’s not weird and cool and that Anna is such a special snowflake.

(Man, I sound like Amanda.)

And then we have this spiel by Anna about how she got into film critiquing (?), because we the readers need to know how special and #NotLikeOtherGirls Anna is.

To this, I say, “Piss off, you pretentious fuck.”

Of course, Anna’s a virgin and she’s never gotten drunk before or worn short skirts- she’s not a slut, she shaves below the knees only.

And would YA really be YA without several hearty helpings of internalized misogyny?

First up, we have the bimbo; the Barbie doll archetype whose only goal in life is acquiring the main guy (who is quite obviously uninterested in her), and making life hell for our protagonist. Amanda Whatsername (is she ever given a surname?) has this coveted role in Anna and the French Kiss. She’s blond (because of course she is); the first time we meet her, she’s in a, quote unquote, ‘teeny tank top’, and she also ‘positions herself for maximum cleavage exposure’. She’s always flipping her hair, getting her grubby paws on Étienne, giving Anna the stink-eye, being homophobic and a grade-A bitch.

Meredith goes batshit when Anna and Étienne kiss, and is very pouty and unhappy during prior Anna x Shittiene moments. Honey… he’s just not that into you. Rashmi’s the Ice Queen reincarnate and halfway to bitchdom. Anna doesn’t go as hard on them as she does on literally every other female her age in the book, though.

Rashmi looks at me for the first time, calculating whether or not I might fall in love with her own boyfriend.

Anna, hate to break it to you, but not everyone’s a possessive fucking weirdo.

About Cherrie, her ex-boyfriend Matt’s new girlfriend:

And maybe Cherrie isn’t as bad as I remember. Except she is. She totally is. After only five minutes in her company, I cannot fathom how Bridge stands sitting with her at lunch every day.

Her lifeless laugh is one of her lesser attributes. What does Matt see in her?

Even Bridgette, Anna’s best friend from Atlanta, isn’t immune to Anna’s anti-female propaganda. She’s screwing the guy Anna used to like, and Anna, the hypocrite, throws a huge fit.

For context: Bridgette and Toph are in a band called the Penny Dreadfuls (why is it with YA books and horrible band names? ‘Emoji’ from Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda was bad enough), and Anna + Matt + Cherrie go to a bowling alley to see them perform. After the performance, Toph announces that he’s sleeping with Bridge, and Anna confronts Bridge… onstage.

“… You’re welcome to move in when I leave again, because that’s what you want, right? My life?”

She shakes with fury. “Go to hell.”

“Take my life. You can have it. Just watch out for the part where my BEST FRIEND SCREWS ME OVER!” I knock over a cymbal stand, and the brass hits the stage with an earsplitting crash that reverberates through the bowling alley. Matt calls my name. Has he been calling it this entire time? He grabs my arm and leads me around the electrical cords and plugs and onto the floor and away, away, away.

Everyone in the bowling alley is staring at me.

I duck my head so my hair covers my face. I’m crying. This would have never happened if I hadn’t given Toph her number. All of those late-night practices and… he said they’ve had sex! What if they’ve had it at my house? Does he come over when she’s watching Seany? Do they go in the bedroom?

I’m going to be sick.

Give me a goddamn break.

Anna, about Ellie:

To my amazement, Ellie breaks into an ear-to-ear smile. Oddly enough, it’s this moment I realize that despite her husky voice and Parisian attire, she’s sort of… plain. But friendly-looking.

That still doesn’t mean I like her.

“Anna! From Atlanta, right? Where’d you guys go?”

She knows who I am? St. Clair describes our evening while I contemplate this strange development. Did he tell her about me? Or was it Meredith? I hope it was him, but even if it was, it’s not like he said anything she found threatening. She doesn’t seem alarmed that I’ve spent the last three hours in the company of her very attractive boyfriend. Alone.

[about Ellie’s Hallowe’en costume] Slutty nurse. I don’t believe it. Tiny white button-up dress, red crosses across the nipples. Cleavage city.

If I didn’t like Ellie before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. It doesn’t matter that I can count how many times we’ve met on one hand.

I fantasize about their break-up. How he could hurt her, and she could hurt him, and all of the ways I could hurt her back. I want to grab her Parisian-styled hair and yank it so hard it rips from her skull. I want to sink my claws into her eyeballs and scrape.

It turns out I am not a nice person.

YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

Emily Middlestone bends over to pick up a dropped eraser, and Mike Reynard leers at her breasts. Gross. Too bad for him she’s interested in his best friend, Dave. The eraser drop was deliberate, but Dave is oblivious.

One of the juniors, a girl with dark hair and tight jeans, stretches in a move designed to show off her belly button ring to Paul/Pete. Oh, please.

And I’m meant to like this character? I’m supposed to root for her?

I’m not saying every girl in the book should be perfectly sweet and friendly- that’s just not realistic. But when Anna has something judgmental to say about every other young female character… maybe she’s the problem.

In fact, the only girl I recall getting a pass is Isla Whatsername. And why do you think?

Brilliant.

And now we have the amalgamation of almost every fanfic boyfriend trope from 2014, Étienne St. Clair. Brown-eyed Harry Styles. I can’t fucking wait.

Étienne could’ve discovered the cure for cancer, or abolished poverty, or volunteered at animal shelters in his spare time. He could’ve been the most virtuous guy around (fret not; he decidedly isn’t). And I still wouldn’t’ve thought of him as the man of my dreams because HE HAS A BLOODY GIRLFRIEND.

I mean, which girl doesn’t want her boyfriend to say:

“I cheated on her every day. In my mind, I thought of you in ways I shouldn’t have, again and again.”

Fuckin’ smooth, bro.

“No matter what a terrible boyfriend I was, I wouldn’t actually cheat on her. But I thought you’d know.”

Such a gentleman!

“So you can keep dating Ellie, but I can’t even talk to Dave?”

Étienne looks shamed. He stares at his boots. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what to do with his apology.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. And this time, he’s looking at me. Begging me. “And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need more time. To sort things out.”

And this gem:

“If you liked me so much, why didn’t you break up with her?”

“I’ve been confused. I’ve been so stupid.”

*me, banging pots and pans together* F U C K Y O U

“Ellie’s not like you, Anna; she’s a slut and a whore even though I’m the one who’s been thinking about another girl inappropriately and I’m the one who gets my knickers in a twist when another man glances in your direction because my masculinity is extremely fragile and I’m a total hypocrite and a dickhead.”

I mean, he didn’t actually say that, but that’s the gist.

WHILE DATING ELLIE: he gets Anna a book of sexual love poems, he calls her attractive (“Any bloke with a working prick would be insane not to like you.”) multiple times, he gets jealous whenever another guy so much as breathes in Anna’s direction and constantly interrupts such interactions, he’s been ditching his friends for his girlfriend but suddenly decides he prefers a new girl over said girlfriend, he thinks bread pudding tastes good- in conclusion, he is a Massive Fucking Prick. Though in hindsight, him and Anna deserve each other. They’re awful.

I had loads more notes taken down (Anna using Dave; “The important thing is this: Dave is available. St. Clair is not.”); the implication that cheating is okay because Ellie is bad or whatever, even though the sudden change in her character seems contrived because she was perfectly okay with Étienne and Anna hanging out before; how my blood boils whenever I read an American book and American girls are like “oOoOh AcCenT!!!1!!1!!”; me reading “DAVE SAYS YER A SLUTBAG” in Hagrid’s voice; the sheer atrocity of the name ‘Étienne St. Clair’ (sounds like a caricature of a French person)… but this ‘review’ is already pushing 3k and I can’t be fucked to expand on any of those points.

Verdict (which is apparently the same in French):

Who needs Christopher when Étienne St. Clair is in the world?

Speak for yourself.

[batbetbitbotbut]

I’m a vaccinator now

England, January 2020

A week and a half ago I qualified as a vaccinator, jabbing just a few patients under supervision to prove I could do it.  Mere days later I had my first full (5hr) shift of vaccination when one of the afternoon vaccinators didn’t turn up.  I had been somewhat concerned about if I could really handle that many hours of causing people pain, even mild pain, even when they want to be there and so do I and it’s for such a good cause. But I didn’t have time to be nervous and I had everything to prove and there’s no way I would refuse.

It went really, really well.  A few shifts later, I’ve stabbed about 500 people so far and will likely stab many, many times more than that over the coming weeks.  I’ve learned a lot about the texture of people’s skin and muscles!  Every arm feels different.

Most of my patients have been elderly, but there is also a good number of frontline healthcare and social care workers of all ages.  Some of the patients who have stood out to me:

The people who ask about taking a photo or videoing during the vaccine, because they're so happy to have it done and want a record of it.

The person in my first shift who warned me she was going to rate me out of 10.  Even though she felt a bit of pain, she still gave me a 10.  (Another person in another shift gave me 20 out of 10.)

The elderly lady whose arm was just skin and bone, not enough muscle to vaccinate.  I took her to a private space and had another staff member on hand to help, and jabbed the lady in the thigh instead.  She was happy to be jabbed and even happier that it wasn't in the bum.

The elderly man who said he liked my voice, which I can be self-conscious of at times.  Vaccination is one part stabby skills and three parts customer service; I’m glad my voice helps.

If patients can't roll their sleeves up enough for the vaccine (which goes in almost at the shoulder) and can't pull the neckline down either, the next solution is to take their arm out of their top and lift the whole thing up on that side.  This exposes any bra quite a lot, but none of the old women I’ve jabbed have cared in the least.

Some patients are prepared, like one or two on previous days who had sleeves designed with cutouts at the shoulders.  Some patients, you think 'did you realise we were going to need to access your shoulder sometime this year?'

The old people with smallpox vaccine scars.  The old men in particular who start telling stories about their time in the Navy and why they'll definitely be fine with any pain.

The young parent who had her 4-year-old son in tow.  I was thrilled that they came to my station.  I got him his own chair and we all had a chat about the medicine that mummy was having today, and he watched the whole process.  His mum was great with him.

The woman in her 80s who had an extreme fear of needles.  She and the clinician who assessed her for the vaccine told me about it, so that I could give her the best care I could.  I didn't take her behind the privacy screen (which hides you from the room but exposes you to the table with drawn-up syringes, another person being vaccinated, etc) until the last possible moment and I did my best to block her view of any sharps, and got her to shut her eyes.  She was crying before I vaccinated her but she still went through with it, and it was over as quick as anything and we got out of there. It made me cry too, seeing how brave she was.

The young social care worker who was also very scared of needles and asked me if I was a qualified nurse, which I am not.  That’s okay; I took her to another station with a nurse performing the vaccinations so that she would be more comfortable and confident, even though the nurse and I had comparable experience giving vaccines.

Something like 1 in 10 of my younger adult patients expressed a fear of needles, while something like 1 in 100 of the older ones did.  If you are nervous or scared: please, please tell the staff involved in your vaccination.  We can help.  We aren’t judging you and we don’t think you’re silly or a nuisance; we want you to have the best experience possible.

The people who said I must be good at darts.

The disabled person who was very distressed by the mass vaccination site environment, but fine with needles.  In this case, I did ask a more experienced clinician to do their jab.  We kept them at the edge of the space and found a quieter zone for them after the vaccine and they did brilliantly.

The staff members I’ve jabbed, especially one who had spent all day as a clinical assessor sending patients to me.  When they presented themself for a vaccination, I kept looking around for who their patient was.

The people with fantastical outfits, especially one with long fluorescent hair.  I’ve had competition for best shoes -- I wear eyebleedingly bright and flowery Docs, but some people have come through with ones covered in glitter that I like very much.

It feels so weird to me that I watch the needle going into the arm every time and it's exactly the same from my perspective, but I never know if I'm causing the person pain or if they didn't feel it at all.  But I’m trusted now. I even trust myself.

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Change

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

One-shot

Summary: You are in college as a psychology major. But lately you have been questioning your whole major. Tom, your boyfriend, has been amazing while you’ve been trying to figure everything out. Finally deciding what you want to do, you’re excited to tell your best friend. Things did not go as expected but you are reminded of how lucky you are.

N/A: Hey ya’ll I hope you are being safe and healthy. Here is a little one-shot for you all.

             Slinking down into your favorite place on the couch you scroll through the DVR, hoping something catches your eye. Finally picking something, you wrap yourself up in blanket and find yourself lost in your own thoughts. Tonight you met up with your best friend to tell her some exciting news but it didn’t happen the way you originally hoped.

“Well hello love,” Tom bends over the back of the couch to place a quick kiss on your cheek. “You’re home earlier than I expected. What did Julie think of the news?”

              What did she think of the news? She didn’t think much of it because she went right into talking about her boyfriend. The two of you met up because you wanted to tell her the news concerning your career change. Julie knows you’ve been struggling trying to find an area of focus in the field of psychology, but what she doesn’t know is that you’ve been thinking about completely switching to something else. You finally knew what you wanted and was so excited to tell her at dinner.

            Going to the gym before dinner the two of you took a few workout classes. About half way through the second class you noticed she seemed a bit worn out. She’s not big in exercise. You didn’t used to be either. Asking her if she’s alright she goes into how she’s just sad cause her and her boyfriend haven’t talked all day. The class resumed, and after you went out to eat with her. You told her the news that you were so excited about, but it was short lived because she continued to talk about her boyfriend.

           Normally you don’t mind. Though most of her stories have been repetitive. Including any problems going on between them. You love her, Julie is one of your best friends. Though, sometimes you wish the conversation could be about something else. Perhaps something in your life like what brought you to this change. Is that selfish? You wonder. It’s not like you want everything to be about you, just a little bit more than it is. At least in these circumstances when you have some news.

“She said she could see me becoming a nurse.” You say without looking at your boyfriend. “How was your day?”

“It was great, like always.” You can hear the smile on his face. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

             You try to tell him nothing is wrong but he isn’t easily convinced. Tom knows how most times your news takes a backseat to your friend’s lives. Any time you mention something that’s not a guy related statement you can’t hold their attention for more than five seconds, but sometimes even talking about Tom wouldn’t work. Though when it comes to them, you listen to everything. You’ve grown accustomed to it, mostly. When it comes to something that matters it gets under your skin but you know you have Tom. So you tell him about tonight.

             Taking a seat next to you Tom wraps his arms around your shoulders. Bringing you against his chest you hug him back. Tom has seen you struggle with yourself over the last few months. He kept reminding you that if it is really what you want then you have to do it. You’ve been worried about it being too late to switch, if you are smart enough for the program, and a million other doubts. Tom has a way of calming your fears and helps show you the rational side of things once you find yourself lost in your own head.

Buzz Buzz

             A text from Julie pops up on your phone. Reaching for it Tom stops you and curls your body back towards his. Whatever it is Tom assures you it can wait till morning. Agreeing you allow yourself to feel his warmth as your body starts to doze off.

“Your phone... your phone is ringing... better pick up!”

             Your ringtone for Julie fills the room knocking some sleepiness out of your system. Tom doesn’t stop you this time. He knows she almost never calls so maybe this time it is really important. You stay in his arms and lean back on him between his legs. Tom’s hand soothingly rubs circles against your arms as you accept the call.

“He broke up with me.” Julie sobs.

“What why? Are you okay?” Your voice comes through groggy as you now struggle to stay awake with Tom’s touch luring you back to sleep.

             Listening to her sobs, you try reminding her that she will be okay. However Julie continues to put herself down, saying she is stupid and that she doesn’t know what she is doing with her life, that no one could possibly love her. Internally sighing, you think about how she always does this and you’ve tried telling her that she is going to meet someone who will be forever. She is smart and will succeed in anything she puts her mind to. You hate that she constantly puts herself down.

“They broke up,” you mouth to Tom. He nods and slowly gets up from behind you on the couch. Tom makes his way into the kitchen and you try to remain sitting up to stay awake.

             Growing more tired, you suppress yawn after yawn when you speak into the phone. You can’t remember being this tired ever before now. The game to stay awake can be fun, but you really just miss Tom’s warm arms around you. You know you need to focus. Shaking your head you attempt to clear any cobwebs that remain.

             You don’t understand why they broke up exactly. Even though they didn’t talk much today, they normally do just about every day and all day. Nothing really indicated a red flag for breaking up. Julie’s boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, does go to college a couple hours away. She can’t go and see him all the time since her work and school is here. You know that was weighing down on them but they were working through it.

             Tom’s hands lightly presses against your back to get your attention. Turning slightly, you see Tom holding a coffee mug out for you. Steam radiates from the hazelnut coffee inside. You smile thinking about how for the last year Tom has been trying to convert you to tea. But your American tendencies make it hard for you to give up coffee completely.

“Julie how about we do an old fashioned girls night?” You suggest. “How is Friday night?”

“Can we do it at your apartment? I don’t want to be at mine.” You look at Tom who is on his phone, probably texting Harrison. “Tom won’t be there right?”

“Umm…” you wait trying to figure out what to say. Tom has some time off before he starts working on his next movie so he is home more. The last thing you want to do is kick him out of your shared apartment.

             Before you have the chance to talk her into staying at her apartment, Tom gives you a thumbs up. Knitting your eyebrows in confusion, Tom tells you that he could hear Julie.

“I’m going to go to London for the weekend, see my mum and Harrison. Let you girls have all the time you need.” Tom bends and places a kiss on your forehead. “But we are going to celebrate when I get back. You finally figured out what you want, and I am so proud of you.”

            You lift your body up enough to lightly press your lips against Tom’s soft ones. Careful not to make too much noise, you cover your phone. Tom’s hand cups your cheek deepening the kiss, only slightly. Somehow you managed to get one of the best men out there, and you have no intention of letting him go.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.

NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@dancingcoolcat​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

__________________________________________________________

There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met.  They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another.  But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.

Her name was (Y/n) (L/n).  And she—is and will always be the love of my life.

For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone.  As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.  

Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best.  In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards).  Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.

And won’t she be surprised when she sees me.  It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.

I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.

*My POV*

April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm.  It had been a long day.  5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor.  I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang.  She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together.  She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.

I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs.  We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.

So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had.  For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.

“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”

“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”

“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.

“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me.  We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.

“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.

“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.

I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.

“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.

“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.

“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.

“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”

“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”

“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”

“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”

“It sure did, thank you my love.”

“Anything for you my life.”

That was a thing between us.  When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself.  For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.

He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him.  I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.

So we both try to be each other’s support system.  We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life.  You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.

“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”

“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”

“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”

“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.

“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.

“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.

“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.

“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”

“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.

“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her.  Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them.  Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.

“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”

“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”

“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.

“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.

I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on.  Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.

“What have we got?”

“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.

“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.

“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.

“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”

“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”

“Lucy….”the man groaned out.

“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy.  I nodded and came up to the man and said.

“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”

“Yes. Where—where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”

“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.

“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Barry.”

“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”

“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”

“I know, I know.”

“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered.  Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm.  Barry hissed and I said to him.

“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”

“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly.  I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.

As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet.  With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.

All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.

“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”

“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.

“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”

“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.

“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.

“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”

“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.

“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.

“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”

“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU.  From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.

Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.

“Nice job keeping him talking.”

“Just doing my job sir.”

*Doctor’s POV*

Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress.  I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive.  But not for himself, for his sister.

This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s.  She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.

Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life.  You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future.  She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose.  Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).

By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery.  His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.

I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted.  I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.

“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her.  I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.

“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”

“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”

“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”

“How did you—”

“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly.  God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice.  I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.

“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”

“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded.  I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”

“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.

“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”

“You mean…..”

“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.

And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.

[thewatermelloncat]

Jinx

Summary: Short fic written from this prompt by Anonymous:

What about the boys living at all getting sick but Allison isn’t around to take care of them so Diego or Vanya (or both!) comes to take care of them and then ends up getting sick from them.

Author’s Note: For the purpose of this story, Diego still lives in the room at the back of the gym.

Warnings: “I mean, is shit even a swear word?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With Vanya and Allison out of the house, Diego had come over for an unofficial boy’s week. Only this wasn’t the typical have a couple of drinks, watch the game, then go outside for a random maybe death-defying adventure kind of boy’s week. Instead, he was stuck inside playing nurse.

Soon after Allison had taken Vanya to meet up with a composer that she had previously worked with, and Vanya had always admired, a particularly bad strain of head cold had swept through the remainder of the academy. No one really knew who got sick first but it was a sure bet that they were both glad to have got out of the house when they did. Though with their absence there was little availability of caretakers with only Grace around.

While their mother is a robot constructed for the sole purpose of caring for the once children, Diego had come back to the academy after a phone call with Allison, them both knowing that their mother couldn’t handle it alone. Although she had protested when he walked through the academy doors, it really wasn’t a problem. The old mansion was better than the cold and dingy room he had at the back of the gym.

Unlike his mother, Diego was faced with the dilemma of contagion. Grace had offered him a shot of something soon after he’d arrived but he’d taken a hard pass on that because: needles. He wasn’t worried about getting sick either, years of a healthy diet and exercise helped him build up a strong immune system.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Over the few days he had been there Five had bounced back quickly with the body of a child, only a lingering cough left behind.

Luther kept mostly to himself up in his room, the virus draining most of his energy. His immune system not what it once was after years away on the moon.

While true to his dramatic nature even when healthy, Klaus was a handful which didn’t make caretaking easy. So, Diego mostly focused his time on him, leaving their mother to look after the two easier patients.

Though despite his brothers all feeling like shit, Diego quite enjoys it. Able to spend quality time with his mother one on one. He’d missed her after he’d left the academy and savours the time that they spend cooking together down in the kitchen, even if it’s just making simple things like soup.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Where’s mum?” Five asks stepping into the kitchen.

“Charging, her battery got low” Diego says as he turns around from the stove. “Do you need her?”

“No” Five shakes his head. “Just wondered.”

“How are you feeling?”

“All right, I guess” his voice still sounds a little scratchy but all other things considered Diego believes him.

“That case, do you mind taking lunch up to Luther?” Diego asks, beginning to dish out the soup into different bowls.

“You sure you don’t want me to take Klaus? Give you a break from him” Five checks.

“Nah, I got him” Diego affirms as he hands Five one of the bowls and a spoon.

Five takes the bowl from him but maintains eye contact with Diego when he doesn’t look away.

“Afterwards you’re coming straight back down here to eat your own” he instructs him and Five nods once in confirmation before turning the leave. “And no jumping!” he calls after him once he disappears around the doorway.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Jesus Christ! Would it kill you to open a window?” Diego splutters as enters the stuffy confines of Klaus’ room.

“I’m dying, Diego. Cut me some slack” Klaus whines from where he is tangled in his bed sheets.

Diego only rolls his eyes as he moves over to the window before pushing it open, cherishing the cool air he breathes in from the outside.

“Why are you disturbing my descent to death’s door?” Klaus asks.

“Why not ascent?” Diego raises before answering, “I brought you lunch. Sit up.”

Klaus obliges and takes the bowl of soup from Diego. “Really Diego, me going to heaven?” he scoffs before swallowing a spoonful of soup. “I’m going to hell where all the fun people are.”

“Suit yourself” Diego sighs as he sits in a chair which he’d pulled up to the bed. “But you don’t need to worry about that yet. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

“Just in time to dote on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Diego. That impenetrable immune system you claim to have doesn’t exist” Klaus says matter-of-factly.

“Haven’t gotten sick yet, have I?”

“Ah, key word is yet” Klaus points the end of the spoon at him.

Diego rolls his eyes. “It won’t happen.”

“Because you’re too stubborn or you’re in denial?”

“You are so lucky I don’t have my knives on me right now” Diego sighs to himself.

“Hey, if you’re going to get violent you can leave me alone with my soup” Klaus objects.

“All right” Diego agrees standing from his chair. “I’ve got to go check in on Five anyway.”

Klaus laughs to himself clearly thinking of something as Diego makes for the door. After almost closing it behind him, Diego hears Klaus’ voice filter through the gap. “You ever heard of jinxes?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Unfortunately, Diego had heard of jinxes. He’d always labelled them down as unlucky coincidences seeing jinxes as a child’s form of superstitious bullshit. But means to say that he was none too pleased to wake up the next morning to find that, as a child would put it, he’d been jinxed.

The pain in his throat that he’d listened to Klaus complain about for days on end isn’t as bad as what was described. More scratchy and dry if anything. That he’d be able to ignore easily.

Though he winces at the stiffness in his neck traveling down through his shoulders as he pushes himself up in bed. That would be harder to push past. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times hoping to ease out the tension, but no luck.

With a deep sigh he pushes himself off his mattress and shuffles over to the bathroom mirror to assess more of the damage.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For the couple of minutes that he’d stared at himself in the mirror, he’d thought that maybe he could get away with no one knowing his impenetrable immune system had failed. Though that only lasted until his lungs revolted and he was bent forward to shield coughs into his elbow. The hoarseness and the sudden onset of the onslaught surprised him and he knew from then that would be something he couldn’t get away with hiding.

Though that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

For all the valiant effort he was about to make concealing his ailment, nothing could get past mum.

As soon as he walks into the kitchen Grace fixes him with a knowing look. For all her characteristics as a robot, she is particularly good at reading people, and not just in the sense of vital assessments.

Diego opens his mouth to draw in the inhale of a sigh but his breath catches and he covers a couple of coughs behind a fist.

“Oh dear” is all Grace says as she comes over to him. Her voice as sweet and nurturing as always.

When she reaches him, her touch is gentle and Diego lets her lead him to sit down in one of the chairs at the table. There is no point in her carrying out a full medical diagnostic seeing as it’s fairly obvious what he’s caught, but she does reach the back of a hand up to place against his forehead.

“38.3°C” she tells him, moving her hand down the side of his face to cup his jaw. “Not too warm.”

“I’m fine, mum” Diego tries.

“Don’t be silly” Grace laughs lightly before moving away from him back to the bench. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When the breakfast plate is placed in front of him, he doesn’t ignore the small cup of medicine accompanying it. Reaching forward he downs it like a shot before taking a bite of toast to rid the taste from his mouth.

For all his resistance to admit that he could fall sick, he knows when he’s been beaten. Though the longer he can keep Klaus from knowing the better.

[mrsorange]

Yesterday

Sitting in front of the steering wheel, Paul watched the old building in silence. He gathered the courage to enter because by doing it his whole life would change. During the half of his life, he had tried to bury what his cousin Angus had told him once. They were thirteen years old and they were arguing over who would ask a girl to go out for an ice-cream. But his cousin had gone further.

“I wish aunt Mary would have never adopted you. Everything would be better without you” these were the words that had broken his heart.

During the following months, Paul had tried to talk to his parents but he was afraid of his father's reaction and he didn’t want to worry his mother who wasn’t feeling feel ok. And then the worst happened, Mary passed away. Full of sadness, Paul decided to bury his doubts. The loss of his mother made the idea of ​​having lost another too much pain to bear.

These doubts came back to his life one day when he visited his father. Paul was helping him with the move when he found a photograph of her mother next to a group of nuns.

“what is this photo of mum?” he asked

“Oh … after we got married, your mother worked as a nurse in London because of the war. It was just a few months; she came back due to sick leave… I mean she came back because you were going to be born” his father answered

“You never told us about that”, said Paul but his father didn’t answer and continued ordering

Paul continued helping with the move and didn’t mention the subject again but that photograph sowed doubts about his origin again. Maybe Angus had told him the true.

Paul returned to touring with The Beatles. He was so busy that he didn’t allow himself to think about it but at night in silence and alone with himself he would do it again. One night he couldn't stand it anymore and called his father.

“Paul what happened? It’s 3 AM “his father asked still asleep

“Dad I need to know” he exclaimed

“What happens?”

“Is it true? ... Is it true that mom was not my mom?”  he said with a broken voice

“where did you get that? “His father asked nervously

“I need to know the truth”

“son, this is not a conversation to have on the phone”

And with those words Paul understood that his greatest fear was true, he stayed in silence by the phone while tears fell down his cheeks.

“Paul ... are you there?”

“yes” he mumbled

“Whenever you have free on the tour we will talk ... if you want I can travel or ...”

“No, I will travel. Maybe next week” he interrupted

Paul continued with the tour, playing in the different shows, traveling from city to city but he could only think in his father. Brian was reluctant to give him two days off to travel to Liverpool as their schedule was very tight between interviews and the next trip to Paris. Moreover, Paul didn’t want to tell him why he needed to travel. He didn’t feel sure about telling him or his friends what was happening in his life. He had not even told Lennon who was his best friend.

Finally, Paul visited his father and had the long-awaited talk. However, his father couldn’t tell him everything about his past as his mother had been very reticent about his adoption. Mary had told him not to make any question and love him as if he were his own blood. So, Jim could only give him a name and an address in London.

…………………………………………

Paul got out of the car in his costume that consisted of a black overcoat, a hat and a fake moustache so that people wouldn't recognize him and for now it was working. Women passed by with bags of groceries, a man smoked on the corner and a group of children played football. Suddenly the ball hit the back door of the car causing Paul to panic.

“I’m sorry Sir” said a Ginger boy taking the ball and running away from there.

Paul tightened the lapels of his coat to cover his face a little and climbed the steps of the old building. At that moment a midwife suddenly opened the door. Paul wanted to speak to her but the woman didn’t notice his presence as she was leaving in such a hurry. She got into his car and disappeared at full throttle.

“Excuse me sir ...  can I help you?”  asked another midwife

“yes, I’m looking for Sister Julienne” answered Paul taking off his hat

“Oh yes, wait here please. What is your name?”, the girl asked

“tell her I’m Mary McCartney's son”

Paul was observing the place while he was waiting in the hall. There was a living room with a fireplace that kept the place warm and in one corner there was a television which seemed strange to him.  who could have imagined that nuns would watch television? He kept looking around the place until he saw a corridor and a blackboard caught his attention. He got closer to take a better look. It was a blackboard with women's names, two or three per row, and some were crossed out.

“What are you doing here?” a voice asked and Paul turned around

“I’m waiting for Sister Julienne” he answered nervously

"Wait for her in the living room. You be here," the girl answered. Paul was dazzled by her beauty more than a midwife she looked like a model. She accompanied him to the living room and she stopped to observe him carefully

“You seems familiar to me” she said

“How strange! this is the first time I visit this place” he answered turning his face

Luckily for him the other girl returned with Sister Julianne and when he saw his legs began to shake. she looked at him and said: “James come with me to my office “

As soon as Paul entered, he sat down and took out of his pocket the photo of his mother in the Nonnatus House and put it on the table. The sister took it and smiled as she remembered the moment when the photo had been taken.

“I think you know why I'm here” he said

“And Mary? “She asked although she knew the answer.

“My mother passed away a long time ago that is why I came looking for answers here” he answered with a broken voice “my father told me very little”

Sister Julienne sat in front of him and taking his hands began to narrate how Mary had become his mother:

“At that time our congregation was not only in charge of births. In the middle of the war we also had to take care of those injured by the bombings. We honestly couldn't cope. That is why we got three support nurses, Henrietta, Sarah and Mary. Your mother was just married and had agreed to come to the wolf's mouth just to help others. In those months that we worked side by side, between guards and waking hours, we became very close. She was looking for some comfort since she had lost her first pregnancy. Every child she saw, she protected him and made sure he was safe and sound. One night while we were having dinner after a long day at work, the siren began to sound and we knew it was time for shelter. We went out with the only things we were wearing to the nearest shelter since we did not have much time.  On the way we met a young woman who was no more than 17 years old. She was screaming in pain while leaning against a car. Between the two of us we helped her to put standing and walk the few steps that separated us from our destination”

“Was that young woman my real mother?” muttered Paul

“It's been so long but I still remember her as if it were yesterday. She had light brown hair and freckles all over her face and now looking at you I can tell you that you have the same look of her, especially her eyelashes “she smiled and continued with her story “It didn't take you long to be born. You were a very cute chubby baby. Despite the sounds of the bombs, that night you slept peacefully while your mother hugged you. Mary and I were next to you making sure everything was fine”

“What was her name?” He asked

“I don't know; she didn't want to tell us her name. I didn’t want to insist too much since we were all shocked and scared by what was happening but in the morning I realized why. When we woke up she was gone.  we looked for her everywhere and then we waited for her to appear here but she never did. So, Mary took care of you. She fed you and sang you lullabies until you fell asleep. she didn’t leave your side for a second”  

Sister Julienne stood up and turned to see the cross that was on the wall:  “I don't know if what happened later was right. I always ask God to forgive me. I did not agree but Mary wanted at all costs to take you with her to Liverpool and that's why she falsified your birth certificate. she called your father and arranged to spend some time in Cumbria”.

“my mother did all that” said Paul astonished by this woman very different from the one he had known

“I knew that with her you would be fine but I did not agree with the way she did it. She could have adopted you legally but she did not want to wait. that's why we stopped talking” she sat down again “I don’t know how she receive the sick leave and after that I never heard from her again”

Paul started to cry. After spending so much time trying to bury all his feelings, he was finally able to vent and know the truth. He didn’t understand why they had hidden his origin from him. Despite everything he loved Mary even much more than before and he would never know the reason since she was not there to answer. Perhaps his mother had been afraid that the police would take him away from her or that his biological mother would appear to claim him. Something similar had happened in her neighbourhood with a little girl called Mildred.

Julienne hugged him trying to comfort him: “forgive me for not being able to tell you more things about her”

“Sister, you have helped me a lot. You don't know how much” he said, turning away from her to wipe his tears and making his fake moustache move”

“James you have something”  she said pointing to his face

“Sorry sister” he said and he took it off “it is part of my costume.  I didn’t want to be seen here”

“I see” she said

“I’m not saying it because of the neighbourhood “he explained “I am famous; don't you know The Beatles?”

“I think the girls have mentioned it” she replied

Paul was surprised because she didn’t know the band in the middle of Beatlemania. He began to tell her about their music and how they had managed to get their first album out. When they left the office and headed to the door they heard the TV blasting.

“Sister can you lower the volume?” said Sister Julianne

“No, soon they will be showing the new song of those boys” replied Sister Monica Joan

“She has already prepared her cookies” said the blonde midwife bringing the tray with the teapot

“Trixie and Barbara also want to listen to the program” added the sister

And at that moment the two girls realized who was the mysterious young man who had come looking for sister Julianne. They both were speechless.

“hey boy, don´t you want to sit and watch the program you too?” said Sister Monica Joan

��I can't I have to leave” Paul replied with a smile

Trixie, the young blonde, approached sister Monica Joan and told her who he was.

“IT CAN'T BE TRUE” she exclaimed with joy “ you have to play us a song, you can't leave like this”

“Sister, James … I mean Paul has said that he has to go” said Julienne

“but it's just a song “she begged him

“well, I can play a song”

“Phyllis has a guitar in her room, I'm sure it won't bother her if we borrow it” said the other girl called Barbara and ran to look for it

 Before the small but very important public that consisted of two nuns and two midwives, Paul gave a small concert in the place where he had discovered the truth about his identity. The truth to which he had run away so long and that in spite of everything he had only managed to bond him more with his mother Mary.

Sorry for the grammar mistakes. English is not my first language

[in-flagrante]

Michelle Dockery reveals how Anatomy of a Scandal is being filmed in the pandemic

Michelle Dockery isn’t going to lie. “I’ve watched more television in the last six months than I have in my whole life!” she says with a laugh.

Same here, Lady Mary. Also just like the rest of us, the actor is having to become accustomed to new ways of working. After twiddling her thumbs for most of the year, the actor best known as Downtown Abbey’s heiress-apparent is, finally, once again gainfully employed, filming London-set thriller Anatomy of a Scandal.

The Netflix drama is adapted from the 2017 bestseller by former political journalist Sarah Vaughan, and is being co-showrun by Big Little Lies series creator David E. Kelley. Rupert Friend plays a married politician accused of raping his aide; Sienna Miller is his faithfully disbelieving wife. Dockery is the ambitious and tough young barrister determined to prove his guilt.

It is a story with powerful contemporary resonance, of the abuse of patriarchal power and how instances of sexual assault are not believed and/or not pursued.

“Certainly there are themes of privilege at the heart of this tale about dark goings-on at Westminster, the underbelly,” says Dockery. “So, yeah, of course, it’s a timely piece and a very important story to tell. So I’m excited to get deeper into it. It’s still early days, but it’s great that we’ve started – and we can keep going!” she laughs again.

Cast and crew are only three weeks into filming, and so far the bulk of her scenes have involved only two actors, helping make the rigorous pandemic protocols easier to follow: Covid tests every other day; daily temperature checks on arrival at the set; everyone masked; 10-hour days, which are shorter than the filming norm.  

“It’ll be interesting to see how they’ll shoot the court-room scenes to make it look as though it’s full,” says Dockery. “They can do one shot and you can see a certain amount of people behind the actors, but you don’t have to have the room entirely full.”

She continues: “It’s a really wonderful cast and I’m excited to get into the real heart of it. And I’m very happy to be in London. My last few jobs have been in the States, so it’s lovely to be [working] at home.”

Dockery is back working in other ways, too. The 38-year-old is the face of a new campaign for Scotch whisky brand Glenfiddich, for which she’s been photographed by Misan Harriman.

The Anglo-Nigerian’s imagery of the summer’s Black Lives Matter protests in London reverberated around the world. That led to him being commissioned to shoot Vogue’s September cover, a triple-fold out activist-themed story – an achievement that, made Harriman the first Black man to shoot a cover for the hundred-year-old fashion title.

“He’s the photographer of the moment,” says Dockery. “What he did this year, I just think he’s extraordinary. And more than ever, this is a time for change. And Misan is really at the helm of that. His Vogue cover is historic, and it’s a real moment.”

And how is her own industry harnessing the positive energies catalysed by BLM? Dockery – who was nominated for three consecutive Emmys for Downtown Abbey and received a fourth for Netflix’s 2017 Western series Godless – says she’s seeing it already. “There’s definitely a change in casting, and behind the camera.”

Personally, too, she recognises the need to question the status quo.

“When you’re reading a script, if there’s no definition over where the character is necessarily from, then it should be open to [actors from] all backgrounds. And I think that is being challenged much more in our industry. That is something that needs to be constantly looked at.”

Dockery spent lockdown at home in northeast London “close by” Stoke Newington. She was snapped on her doorstep in late May with Jasper Waller-Bridge, talent agent brother of Phoebe, as the couple joined in with the weekly Clap For Carers.

“In lockdown, Thursday was the day of the week, wasn’t it?” she reflects. “We really looked forward to it, and it was an opportunity for everybody to come together and applaud what the NHS and keyworkers were doing. It was an important time.”

Equally, it was a boost for blocks of flats, and streets, and neighbourhoods. At a time when we were all necessarily isolated, London, I suggest, never felt closer.

“Yeah, because you weren’t seeing anyone other than the people you were living with,” she agrees, “so it was a time to come out and see everybody else in the street. I got to know my neighbours much more. It was something I’ll never forget.” In fact, she adds, “I still feel like we should be doing it, shouldn’t we?”

That sentiment, of unstinting support for our health professionals and carers, may be born of personal experiences. In 2015 Dockery’s fiancé, John Dineen, died of cancer after a long illness. In her childhood, her mother worked as a care home assistant. I ask if that gave her extra insight into how gruelling it’s been inside the country’s care homes during the pandemic.

“Of course, that was the thing that used to play on my mind: how are people managing? I used to go with my mum when I was a little girl, I’d help her take the food in.

“It’s been a really challenging time for people,” she continues, “and I’m just in awe of the work that’s had to be put in to make sure everybody’s safe, with doctors, nurses and carers doing what they can to make the system still work during a time like this.”

All of which means that our next trip to the 1920s can’t come soon enough. After 2019’s first Downton Abbey movie proved more successful than even seasoned Crawley watchers anticipated (it grossed almost $200 million worldwide, over 10 times its reported budget), a second feature is due to go into production in spring.

“I can’t tell you that much, except that there is potentially a second film. We’ve got that far!” prevaricates Dockery with an audible smile. “It’s exciting to think that we can do another one. It felt like after the first film there was immediately an appetite for a second one.

“I’d be thrilled to get back together with the gang and do it all over again. We have so much fun doing it. But that’s all I can tell you, really!”

OK, but please tell us that granny – the Dowager Countess of Grantham, played by Dame Maggie Smith – doesn’t die.

“Ha ha ha!” hoots Dockery in a cheerfully un-ladylike manner. “I’m not giving any story away to you! You’ll just have to see.”

Michelle Dockery fronts the new Glenfiddich Grand Cru campaign "reimagining a contemporary future for whisky"

https://www.standard.co.uk/insider/michelle-dockery-downton-b78950.html

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: a lot of angst, dealing with a traumatic experience, might be hard to read for a sensitive people  Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

This chapter was the hardest to write so far. I hope you'd like the result of my struggle😊   

I need to ask for your patience😌  

I'm leaving tomorrow to the city that I study in. So half of the day I'll spend packing/ on the go/ unpacking. What's more, from Monday I'm going to have a lot of new things to do. So honestly, I don't know when I'll upload the next chapter of the story...

~ 2500 words

----------------------

Chapter 17

Amy jumped when someone touched her shoulder, waking her up.

She looked around, disoriented about the house she found herself in. Her eyes couldn't adjust to the light, so she rubbed them slightly to have a clear view of the surroundings.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Kamilah's voice woke her up even more than the previous pat on the shoulder.

Memories of the last day hit Amy within a second, making her pay close attention to Kamilah's appearance.

The woman was still weak even if the fever was over, and her skin went back to its natural color. She wore a light grey t-shirt and black trousers. Amy looked over her shirt, searching for any sign of blood, which, thankfully, she didn't find.

The girl smiled proudly to herself. Kamilah was clearly feeling better, and that meant the stitches worked.

Amy stretched her arms, leaning back in the chair. Her muscles were hurting because of sleeping with her head on the table.

"You should be laying and resting," Amy said, pausing to yawn.

"Thank's to you, I don't need to," Kamilah put the cup of coffee on the table for her.

Amy took the cup and smelled the sweet aroma of coffee. It made her smile softly before she took a small sip. It was like a miracle drink for her. The thing she needed the most at that moment.

"Amy," Kamilah's voice serious. "I have no words to express my gratitude for what you did for me yesterday."

Kamilah's words referred only to the previous day's situation. But her expression and eyes were apologizing for the way she treated her during past weeks. Amy knew that, and she also knew that she shouldn't point it out. Especially since it must have been already hard for Kamilah to show such surrender. That's why the girl only nodded slightly, accepting the apology.  

"You don't need to thank me," Amy stood up after hearing Kamilah's words. She started cleaning up the books that she spread all over the table. "Besides, we are not done yet."

Kamilah's eyebrows raised as she considered what Amy had in mind.

"I'm not understanding," the woman said, waiting for the explanation.

Amy stopped what she was doing, paying her attention back to Kamilah.

"I read about feral's bite," she gestured the books as an example, "a lot. And it's not looking good for you. Most of the vampires turned into ferals after they were bitten."

"He didn't bite me," Kamilah reminded patiently.

"Yeah, I know," Amy rolled her eyes, "but according to some vampires, the scratch can also cause turning."

The woman already had an answer to that. She didn't want the girl to worry.

"It is more likely to occur in younger vampires," Kamilah explained. "Since I'm over two thousand years old, there is a small chance that I will turn into feral."

"But, there still is," Amy interrupted, then Kamilah's words hit her mind, making her think. "Wait, you're that old?"

Kamilah smiled slightly and nodded.

"Anyway..." the girl focused on her next words, "I'm a Bloodkeeper, my blood is in some way special to the vampires, so I made a decision." Amy brushed her hair away from her neck. "I want you to feed on me."

There was silence in the room after her words.

Kamilah stayed still, surprised by this offer.

She looked at Amy's exposed neck, feeling the need rising inside her throat. She could hear the girl's pulse, smell the blood under her skin. Imagine how delicious it must taste.

The woman shook her head, trying to control her desires.

"I won't do it," Kamilah said, looking intensively into Amy's green eyes.

Eyes that within a second lost their gleam, because of her words.

"Why?" Amy looked disappointed. "What's wrong with me?"

That made the woman laugh ironically.

"I'm a blood-sucking monster, and you're asking what's wrong with you?" Kamilah couldn't stop the pain in her heart.

Knowing her own nature was one thing. Admitting it was an entirely different matter.

"I don't think of you as a monster," Amy's eyes didn't lie, she was sure of her words. "You helped those people in Paris, you..."

"I killed more in my life, believe me," Kamilah held her gaze, interrupting.

But she couldn't find the fear or disgust in the girl's face.

"It doesn't matter," Amy told, undoubtfully. "What matters is that you changed. And I won't go out of here before you drink my fucking blood."

Amy stood there with arms crossed on her chest, acting more stubborn than ever. Her eyes were sending a clear message: giving up her idea wasn't even an option.

"Oh, Amy," Kamilah couldn't stop a smile after hearing Amy's passionate voice. "What about... I'll consider your offer in exchange for a conversation."

"About what?" Amy felt suspicious and curious at the same time.

Kamilah moved the chair from the table and slowly sat on it, keeping Amy's gaze. She gestured on the other chair, so Amy sat down too, next to her.

"You," Kamilah answered.

"What kind of deal is this when you're getting both things, and I none," Amy laughed, but she made her decision. Everything was worth trying as long as the woman would feed on her and get better. "Okay, ask me anything."

Kamilah took her time to take in Amy's features. She wanted to ask her properly about what concerned her the most. Without scaring her off this time.

"What about..." Kamilah said, "where did you learn how to stitch up the wound."

Amy gulped at this question. She knew that Kamilah wanted to know way much more. The girl considered for a second if she should give up her secrets.

Secrets that she managed to keep safe for such a long time.

Finally, something broke inside of her, and she let go.

"My mum taught me," words left Amy's mouth. "She's a nurse... somewhere," her throat tightened for a moment, preventing her from continuing.

Kamilah gently placed her hand on Amy's. She wanted to add her courage, but at the same time didn't want to push her.

"If it's too hard to talk about, I won't force you," the woman's whisper sweetly sounding in Amy's ears.

For a moment, Amy rethought her words. Under any other circumstances, she would take the opportunity to avoid this subject. But, one look at Kamilah's eyes, which at that moment were showing an unbelievable devotion and support, made her fight her past.

"I have to tell this," Amy closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts. "There is a lot I need to explain to you."

After a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked deeply into Kamilah's. Like she was afraid that after her first words, the woman would disappear.

"Let me start with my name," Amy said, searching for the reaction. She saw a little nod from Kamilah, but no judgment in her expression. "I've had a lot of them, but my first one was Amelia Moore."

Memories of her regular and ordinary at first life hit her immediately.

How she was playing as the kid in the garden under the old weeping willow. Her parents, who were sitting on the blanket which was spread on the wild, not equally mown grass.

Their smiles.

She remembered, with how much love they were looking at each other.

At her.

"I told you before that I moved a lot in my life," Amy continued. "That wasn't exactly what happened."

Screams and loud noises echoed in her mind.

Before her eyes grew a dark forest. Amy felt the cold wind brushing her hair from this night. She remembered how scared she was, being only six years old back then.

"We were on the run," Amy stated a fact, "Ever since I can remember."

"Hide her! I'll come as soon as I can," words of her father when he disappeared into darkness to cover up their tracks.

Sound of her mother's voice when she was humming a song to help her fall asleep. The constant fear that they both would disappear from her life, and she would be left alone.

"And it was all because of me," tears threatening to escape her eyes. Kamilah tightened grip on her hand, trying to keep Amy safe from the shadows of her past. "They would never admit it, but I knew it all along. They were protecting me," she looked at the wall, getting lost in thoughts. "Back then, I didn't know our enemy. Now, I've had the time to think about it. And I'm sure that it had to have something to do with me being a Bloodkeeper."

"Do you think they knew about vampires?" Kamilah asked slowly, she was picking words carefully this time.

"They never told me, probably because they tried to keep me safe from this world," Amy had her chance to be angry at them for doing so. Now, all she felt was gratitude. "I've never seen the vampire before, or I did but never knew what I was up against," she had so many questions to her parents. "We had traveled under different names since then. We had never stayed anywhere for too long."

Amy's gaze moved to her own wrist, looking at the scar. The memory visualized before her.

"You're a brave girl, aren't you?" Her mother's whisper.

Amy could still feel how her fingers were gently stroking her skin. She could understand how heartbroken the woman must have been to do such a thing to her own daughter.

"But why?" Amy was seven years old at that time.

She was shaking from fear and lack of understanding. Those emotions were mixed with endless trust in her parents.

"Do you remember what we were telling you before?" her father sat beside her, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. "You're a special girl, and some people might not understand that. So this mark will..." he waited for her reaction.

"Make a fool of them!" Amy laughed at her own words.

"Amelia!" her mother couldn't stop a grin since Amy was so adorable, even while repeating such awful words at her age.

"I'm sorry, mummy," the little girl hung her head, meaning her words.

Amy lifted her head to look into her father's eyes, waiting for him to explain.

"This mark will hide you," his words full of the pain of what was about to happen.

"Like in hide-and-seek?" Amy asked, but she was a smart little girl and knew when was the right time to stop joking. "Is it going to hurt a lot?"

Her parents shared an uneasy look.

"I'm afraid that it will," her mother didn't lie, there was no need to. "But we got you, you know that?"

"We will always be here for you," her father's words were the last she remembered before the unbearable pain took over her little body.

Amy breathed slowly, getting out of those thoughts, trying to concentrate.

"They must have known that the Bloodkeeper's can not have scars because of the fast healing process," Amy showed the wrist. "Since my mum was a nurse, she knew what exactly had to be done to create one. Despite how badly the skin wanted to be healed," she remembered pain from constant cutting with an infected knife till the scar stopped disappearing. "I was just a child when it happened."

"It must have been so hard and painful," Kamilah's stomach tightened. She couldn't imagine such torture at a young age.

"It was, but it helped us survive," Amy's heartbeat increased at the next memory. "Till it didn't."

"You're going to be fine," her mother's voice on the day of their separation. "And you don't need to worry about us, we will take care of ourselves."

"I'm sorry that I'm the cause of all of this," tears were flowing unstoppably down Amy's cheeks. She was eighteen years old at that moment. "I didn't know that they were the ones looking for me."

"Hey, you don't need to apologize," her father's hand laid on her shoulder to make sure she would listen carefully. "Never, to anyone, do you understand?"

Amy nodded, unable to speak.

"We are so proud of you, Amelia," they didn't call her this name for a long time.

"I'm proud of you too," they hugged each other one last time before separation.

Amy closed her eyes, and a single tear escaped without her permission.

"I trusted the wrong people," her voice shaky. "Going in different directions was our best chance. For me, and for them," she gulped nervously. "It was all my fault."

Kamilah's fingers moved under Amy's chin as she gently made her meet the woman's eyes. When the girl didn't look away, Kamilah wiped the tear with the same hand. She smiled at the girl softly.

"It's not your fault, Amy," Kamilah spoke honestly. "Your parents loved you infinitely. They still do, and you love them as much. There's no one to blame for that."

Amy nodded slightly, words moved straight to her heart.

"How did you meet Lily?" Kamilah asked, trying to get Amy's thoughts to a more positive subject.

And she was right to do so since Amy smiled instantly at the sound of her best friend's name.

"We knew each other since this craziness started," Amy never stopped smiling softly. "Our families were friendly with each other, and even after I was running away with mine, we tried to stay in touch." Amy's heartbeat slowed down, she felt calmer. "Then, I bumped into Lily in the college where I was undercover. Already as Amy Cambell. Starting a new life," she remembered the feeling of safeness when she recognized her best friend after not seeing her for such a long time. "She helped me with making sure that all my personal data was changed and no one would get to know the truth. Somehow, it didn't work," Amy smiled at the woman meaningfully. "After college, we moved to New York, and the rest of it, you already know."

Amy finished her story, and the silence fell in the room. Kamilah wasn't prepared to hear something like that. She couldn't imagine what the girl must have gone through during her short life. Moreover, she was impressed by how powerful and independent, Amy ended up being.

Finally, Amy broke the silence, speaking with difficulty. She took her hand away from Kamilah.

"I get this if you don't consider me worth your attention or trust," Amy exposed herself entirely to this woman. She told her everything, and now she was expecting the harsh judgment from her.

Kamilah didn't leave her gaze, reaching again for Amy's hand. This time, taking it with both of hers.

"You are worth more than you can even imagine..." Kamilah said, "...Amy."

She emphasized the name on purpose. By doing so, she let the girl know that whatever she would decide, Kamilah would follow her lead.

It didn't matter under which name they met in the beginning. What truly mattered was the person that Kamilah had a chance to get to know. And she wouldn't change a thing about her.

Amy smiled at her, feeling the warmth spreading in her chest.

Then, she reminded herself about what this whole conversation was for in the first place.

"I don't want you to turn into feral," Amy said with pleading eyes. "Now's your part of the deal."

Kamilah sighed quietly but nodded.

Ready for what's to come.

Next chapter: 18 (nsfw)

----------------------

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds