#oh look it's suffering hours for hannah apparently

[stolenmorninglight]

At first I read this and was like, "yes, that is a normal and acceptable way to show love, these are both totally normal people and behaviors"

And then I read it again. Re-read the names. Clocked the word "only." Hm.

Off to do more soul searching after being dragged for filth at the hands of a Tumblr post and Dimension 20.

Huh both Evan Kelmp and Riz Gukgak believe the only way to show their love for people is by being useful for them. Huh they're both played by people who normally DM games. Huh weird coincidence

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates- part eight

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: hi, first off i want to say ty for 1k followers i am GOBSMACKED. secondly, this was supposed to be the final part to this series :( but honestly I felt like i didn’t want to carry on this part when i had much more intended for another part, so there will be a part 9 to this series and that WILL be the final part. thank you everyone for being amazing, as always <333

words: 9,336

Visions of the cove came back to Fred as he slept, flashes of gentle waters turning into threatening waves. He tossed his body around for most of the night, struggling to understand what the missing piece was in his half-drunken slumber.

Then the screams had sounded within his nightmare, the sight of the beloved girl sinking into the sand as he found himself bound up on the private beach, unable to reach out and save her. All he could do was shout out for her until his throat ran dry.

“Y/n…” He mumbled as he woke, fearing that the unruly dream had become reality when he looked over to her side of the bed. Empty.

Maybe she was in the kitchen, or maybe she had slept in her room. There were a number of explanations for why she wasn’t beside him that very second, but the man couldn’t help but fear for the worst when he saw the untouched pillow.

“George!” He shouted, the noise echoing throughout the loft. His brother emerged from the hallway as he raced down the stairs with panic.

“What is it- hey! What’s wrong?” “Where’s y/n?” He asked shakily.

“Haven’t seen her, I thought she was sleeping with you?” “She’s not here,” Fred began to pace the living room, worrying about her absence above anything else.

“Then check downstairs she’s probably getting dressed.” As much as George knew he should be concerned about it all, he hated to jump to conclusions- especially when they hadn’t explored every possible reason for her being gone.

The twins wasted no time rushing down to the shop, the alley outside still quiet in the early morning. Fred pushed her door open, staring down at the room before him with a silent cry. George was close behind, quick to catch the other man’s body before it hit the ground.

“Hey - come on, she might have just popped out.” He tried to reason, but even his heart told him differently.

“I can tell, okay… it feels like that night all over again.” “It won’t be, I promise you Freddie- what the hell is that noise?” George’s attention was taken by a faint shout sounding out in the alley, one that they could only hear by the girl’s bedroom window. Fred didn’t seem bothered, presuming that his brother was just trying to distract him from the harsh reality that y/n was gone.

“D-Do you think it was those guys?” He asked from the doorway, his back propped against the wall.

“It sounds like someone’s out there…” George ignored.

“Georgie! I asked you someth-” “Shhh- It sounds like… no... “ “What? I can’t hear anything” “Come on.” The man moved away quickly, leaving Freddie to scramble to his feet alone and chase him through the shop.

“What the hell are you doing, we need to find y/n!” He hissed out, following as George burst out of the front door, the small jingle behind them seeming like an understatement. He followed the noise through the alley like a dog, forgetting that he was only in pyjamas. “You don’t even have shoes on!” The other man tried to tell him, but there was no use.

But the closer they got, the louder the shouts became, and even Fred couldn’t deny it any longer. It was desperate, but subdued, like whoever was crying for help had been doing so for hours now. It was a painful sound when they reached where the person was, both men stopping at the entrance of the particular street to take in the strange sight before them.

“Neville?” Both twins asked, quaintly reminiscent of the way they had spoken his name in unison back when they all went to Hogwarts together. This time, however, was slightly different. This time Neville Longbottom was tied up and gagged, left with bruises all over his face.

“Oh god, what the hell happened to you?” Fred rushed forwards, pulling the strip of fabric from his mouth and untying his hands as he told them.

“She’s gone,” Neville cried, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him, but h-he had a knife, and he knew where Hannah was. I couldn’t warn y/n in time, he’d already taken her by then.”

“Taken! Taken where?” The man urged, pulling his friend to his feet once the restraints were gone.

“I don’t know- he knocked me out once he had her.”

“Well what did he look like- did he mention anyone else? Was it those guys who broke in here?” Fred couldn’t stop asking him questions, constantly thinking up something else that he might need to know about the missing girl’s assailant.

“Hey, give him some space freddie.” George held his brother’s shoulder, seeing how scarily focused his eyes had become. “Why don’t we get Nev back to the inn, then we can all decide what to do.” The man nodded silently, standing aside to let his twin take Neville’s arm and help limp him through the alley and towards the leaky cauldron.

He was too beaten up to help, but they could get the other’s, they needed others. Whoever had taken y/n meant business, so Fred knew that in order to get her back alive, he would need as many people on his side.

“I’ll catch up with you guys!” He called, taking a different route through the streets and ending up back at the loft. He grabbed some clothes and a jacket and made haste to the floo line, taking a single clarifying breath before he announced where he wanted to go.

“The burrow!”

-

Molly Weasley was nursing a hangover in her kitchen, enjoying the peaceful morning and the sun which beamed onto her skin through an open window. Arthur was in his armchair, skimming over the business section of that day’s prophet and cursing the way that Ginny stomped around in her room above him, making him restart the paragraph numerous times.

The girl in question sloped down to her mother, a scowl on her face when she saw a list of chores written on the chalkboard. Ones that she was no doubt expected to do, regardless of the fact that she would be leaving that afternoon.

“Drink this Ginny darling, you’ll feel much better.” Molly held out a beaker to her daughter, filled with some strange blue liquid. It looked like a hangover cure and certainly smelt like one too, but when Ginny tasted the drink, it was hard to hide her disgust. So she held her breath and chugged it down fast, hoping the other two glasses that sat on the counter weren’t also for her.

“See to it that Harry and Ron take them too will you, they’re still asleep I presume?” Molly questioned.

“Nope, both headed out for a fly early this morning, probably stopped by the lake to watch the sunrise, like the pair of pansies they are.” She scoffed, biting back the urge to hurl at the blue liquid’s aftertaste.

“Well then they’ll be fine without these!”

“If I had to suffer through it then so should they.” Ginny argued, seeing a small wince on her mother's face when she slightly raised her voice. “Sorry, I’ll make sure they take it, okay?”

The older woman nodded, mumbling something about laundry before heading off to the garden. Ginny was about to make some coffee, the one thing she praised Hermione for teaching her about, when there was a flash from the family’s floo line, followed by a concoction of panicked shouts.

“What - what is it?” She asked, careering into the hallway to see Fred steaming through the house in search of familiar faces.

“Ginny!” He looked relieved to see her, something that was out of the ordinary for the man. “Where is everyone?” His eyes were wild, scanning around her like he was expecting a ghost to jump him.

“Dad’s in the living room, mum’s outside- hey what’s going on?” She followed him as he went in search of his parent’s, Arthur looked up from his paper when his son walked in.

“Hello Fred my boy, how come you’re here?” The man checked his watch with a frown, only noticing Freddie now that he had shown himself. Arthur had perfected the art of blocking out loud noises in his own home, given the amount of children he had, it was something he had no choice over.

“I need everyone at the leaky cauldron … now!” He announced, pacing about to try and find the rest.

“Tell us what’s going on.” Ginny grabbed his shoulders, pushing him onto the nearby sofa with a grunt. The girl always was stronger than she looked.

“It’s y/n, she’s been taken.” “She’s been WHAT!” Molly screeched, having only heard the end of their exchange as she came back into the burrow with a pile of clean clothes in hand. They fell to the floor in shock.

“Mum! You and dad go to the leaky, Fred will explain more-” Ginny started, seeing that no one in the room was in a right state of mind. “-I’ll go get the boys from the lake.” The two parents nodded, gathering their jackets and heading to the floo.

“I need to get Bill, will he be at work already?” Fred asked his sister.

“He should just be getting in now.” She told him, not wasting a single second before grabbing her broom to fetch Ron and Harry from their lake. “Now GO!”

Fred jumped into action, apparating back to diagon alley and weaving through the hoards of people walking into their bank to start their day. He managed to get into the first open lift, looking very out of place amongst the group of serious businessmen.

“Bill!” He didn’t dare knock on the door to his brother’s office, instead opted that forcing his way inside would express the severity a bit better instead. The man inside jumped at the intrusion, knocking the cup of coffee all over his desk in momentary shock.

“What the hell Fred, what are you doing here?” He frowned, mopping up the mess with silent curses.

“We need to go now, y/n’s been taken… Neville tried to stop it but the guys had a knife.” It took no more than that to get Bill to his feet, following his younger brother silently as he explained more on their way back down to the alley.

“Does anyone know where she could be?” He asked.

“Not for certain, but I have some ideas.” Fred huffed, out of breath from all the running he had done that morning. Still, he kept a fast pace to make it to the leaky before anything worse happened.

The inn was quiet, barely anyone around at that hour of the morning. Everyone was gathered inside, gathering as much information as they could from Hannah and Neville as they waited for Fred to return with his older brother.

“Are we all here?” George asked, letting everyone take a seat before speaking directly to the small ground of their friends and family. “Good. Now Neville was the only one to see the guy who took y/n, he was tall, hooded and held a knife up to his throat.”

Neville sat in Hannah’s arms, obviously still shaken up from being left out in the cold all night. His wife nodded along to George’s words with empty eyes, trying to rack her brain for anyone who took a strange liking to the girl when she still worked for them. Then again, that was the majority of men who came in, it would take months to whittle it down.

“Once he had y/n, the man knocked him out- so that’s all we know. Whoever he was he didn’t want anyone else knowing about it till morning, that’s why he tied Neville up.” Everyone was silent, unsure if they knew anything at all that could help. Still, they wanted to be there to do something to save the girl.

“Has y/n said anything recently that would suggest she was being followed, or did you notice her acting strange?” Arthur spoke up, all of his children shaking their heads.

Fred felt the most useless out of them all. If y/n had known anything, or noticed something was off, she would have told him right? Or was he overestimating how much the girl trusted him, after all, he hadn’t been there to stop those guys from breaking in.

“I don’t think this was a random attack, he knew what he was doing.” Neville’s voice was quiet, even amongst the shared silence.

“How do you mean?” George asked, leaning against the bar in desperate defeat, wracking his brain for where she could be.

“Whoever he was, he knew where to find her- who she was.” “So he was looking for her?” Fred spun round, his neck clicking in the process, even his body hadn’t woken up yet.

“I think he only took me because I saw him outside the shop, and knew I would be suspicious of it.”

The group nodded in agreement. This couldn’t be the same men from the break-in, they were locked up now under Kingsley’s demand. This was a targeted kidnapping, someone had sent this man after y/n. But, who would want her back that badly?

“Her parents.” Fred said, a murmur of understanding waving over the others as it clicked in their minds. “It has to be them, who else would go to such lengths.” “But how do we find them?” Ginny asked. “I mean, no one knows where they live right?”

Everyone shook their heads, murmuring ideas on how they could track her family home down, that was where she had to be.

“Actually,” Hannah stood up, making sure Neville was stable enough before letting go of him. “I might have some old paperwork in my office, I can’t remember for sure if there’s anything on it- but it’s worth a look right?” George nodded, giving Fred a sympathetic look as it was obvious he was struggling to come to terms with the situation. He had just gotten his life back, he was happy, they were happy and they were finally together. And now there was a chance she could be gone for good. It was a lot to deal with.

“Thanks Han,” He mumbled, when the lady passed him, stopping to squeeze his shoulder in meek support.

“Right, can you guys go find Hermione?” George asked Ginny and Ron. “See if she can find any records about the girl, or her parents.” The duo stood quickly, sending a patronas to the girl in question to get her up to speeds before they arrived.

But before they even had a chance to reach the door a flash of blue light fluttered in through the open window, freezing everyone in their steps. The little dove flew over to Fred, who eyes it curiously, no one seemed to recognise it. That was until it started screaming out it’s message in a disturbingly recognisable voice.

“Fred I’m sorry, I tried to fight him-” The voice lowered, as if someone was nearby her. “Come to crag hall,” She was out of breath and shaky as she spoke, all the while the dove floated through the air calmly. “Please be quick, they’re going to- no… no!” She screamed out, the message cut off just as she pleaded with whoever was in the room with her.

There was a tense silence throughout those inside the inn once her voice stopped, no one wanting to speak in case they missed something. But the dove disappeared into thin air, and she was gone again.

“They’ll have taken her wand.” Bill said, mostly to himself, trying to piece together what they knew in an attempt to help.

“Crag hall.” Fred whispered. “She said go to Crag hall… w-where is that?” He searched the room, praying that someone would recognise the name.

“It’s far.” Molly said, all eyes on her. “About three hours from london.”

“But we can apparate, yes?” George pushed her, suddenly more optimistic now that they had a chance to get her.

“Not all together of course, that would be dangerous.” She explained.

“Then we’ll go in pairs, signal back for the next group to come when we know it’s safe to do so.” George announced.

“I’ll go first, scout for any wards.” Fred told his brother, seeing the look of hesitation that George pushed away, knowing there was no convincing him otherwise.

“I’m coming with you.” Ginny said.

“No, it’s too dangerous. You stay back with Bill.”

“She’s my best friend. I'm not arguing about this.” The girl, unfortunately, was just as determined and stubborn as the rest of them.

“Fine, but you stay close- and you listen to what I tell you okay? We don’t know these people, they could be armed.” He took a deep breath, trying to fight away the feeling of impending doom that came along with all the uncertainty.

“Right. Bill, you’ll come with me, then Harry and Ron- mum, dad you’ll be the last okay?” The parents nodded and Molly silently thanked her son for letting her make sure they all got there okay before heading in herself.

Suddenly the inn’s door burst open and a very smartly dressed Hermione stumbled into the group, catching her breath with a small wheeze.

“I’m coming too.” She told them, holding her hand up when Ron tried to protest it. “Ginny?”

“Best friend card and all, you can’t stop her.” She told her brother and he shook his head in defeat, knowing the girl’s were both fiery enough to handle themselves if need be.

“You can come with me and Bill, the second group.” The girl nodded, stripping off her stiff suit jacket and transfiguring her pencil skirt into a pair of jeans. “If anything goes wrong with the trip- if any of you get hurt at all, then you hide.” Fred told them all, taking all the confidence he had within him and spewing it into the small speech. “It would be too risky to try and get back alone, so just stay hidden and we can get you when it’s over.” Everyone nodded, hoping that they wouldn’t need to utilise the advice given.

Fred stood, holding Ginny’s hand and looked over the room.

“Let us know as soon as you see anything,” George told them. The pair nodded in unison, ignoring Molly’s worried gaze as she watched them disapparate from the room with a loud crack.

-

Ginny felt like someone was crushing her lungs when they landed amongst the wall of trees just outside the grounds of Crag hall. The girl had tried to cough out, reaching around desperately for her brother who was struggling to find his feet.

The sheer distance they had travelled was dangerous, especially when it was two of them, but Fred knew as he held a hand over his sister’s mouth that the pain would eventually subside.

“Shhh, Gin.” The girl writhed beneath him as he watched the clearing ahead, where the house stood surrounded by walled gardens. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, not daring to draw any attention to themselves, just in case there were guards patrolling. “It’ll pass… I promise.”

Once she could breath without hacking her throat away, Ginny surveyed the sight before them, trying to plan out how they could approach unnoticed.

“Do you think there will be wards set up?” She asked her brother who crouched beside her, always watching behind them in case someone wanted to sneak up.

“Hard to tell. Chances are they presumed no one knew about this place, so they didn’t bother.” “But the patronus-” “Exactly, with any luck we can try and get through before they’re set up.” He explained.

There was a group of three men stationed at the front gates to the property, unknowing of the Weasleys’ presence.

“No one’s patrolling this side, send a message to George- tell him that it’s clear now- but to watch out for anymore guards.” “What about that lot?” “We have to take them ourselves.” He looked down, seeing a look of apprehension on the girl’s face. It had been a very long time since he had seen her intimidated.

“Hey, if we don’t do it then it’s risking the others- we got lucky.” Ginny nodded along, knowing that they had no other choice but to take them out, and quietly too.

The man took her hand, running a little further along the tree line before heading to the closest side of the walled garden. He boosted the girl up over it, watching carefully as she balanced herself and crouched low above it.

“I’ll take them from up here, catch them off guard- you get them from behind.” She told the man, before sneaking along the high wall.

Fred propelled himself into the neatly arranged flowerbed, suppressing his groan when he landed on his back, hoping that no one had heard the thud his body had made. There wasn’t enough time to think it through though, when there was a surprised shout and the sound of hexes flying through the air.

The noises silenced quickly as the man raced through the shrubbery towards the front gates, but the flashes of coloured light still appeared above the bushes that blocked his view of the fight.

Ginny, however, was someone Fred didn’t need to worry about. She had petrified one of the guards upon sight, before cutting the other two’s shouts with a silencing charm. That had given her an upper hand as she jumped down from the wall to avoid a hex being thrown her way.

Despite using her head, these men were twice her size, and wanted to use that against her. One of them lunged forward, trying to seize her as the other dodged around him with his wand outstretched.

But because of the guard tackling Ginny, it meant he couldn’t risk casting anything towards them in case he hit the wrong one. But it kept them busy long enough for Fred to stun the man from behind, before ripping the other off his little sister with a suppressed growl.

Once he had been stunned and tied up, along with the other two, Ginny sent her patronus to the others, warning them of other possible guards. The two kept to the edges of the walled garden, with the hopes that they could sneak up on the hall without causing anymore commotion.

The building was tall, with a very open courtyard preceding it.

“Through there,” Fred whispered, pointing to the nearest door on the left side of the house. “We should avoid being out in the open.” He told her.

-

Y/n watched out of her bedroom window, wandless and alone, in a room that felt like it had belonged to a ghost. She felt like a ghost, just waiting for the worst to happen. The night had gone by with her knocked out, only to be woken up by her mother’s serpent-like eyes watching over her.

Little words were exchanged, knowing that whatever she said would only hurt her case even more. So the girl opted for silence whenever someone would sit in, only to watch her mope around by the window like a forgotten lover.

Fred. He was all she could think about. She wondered whether he knew the truth, if Neville was okay, if he had been able to tell them what happened. One of her parent’s henchmen had come in while she was casting her patronus, cutting it off when he wrenched the wand from her hands. All the girl could hope was that it actually made it to them.

One of the head maids came into the room, her eyes sunken like she had aged several years in the space of a few months.

“Madam has requested you in the ballroom.” The woman hung a long black dress bag, sealed up, on the back of her door. She stayed firmly in her spot, all the while watching the floor, as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at the poor girl.

“What is it?” The girl rasped out, her throat raw from all the sobbing she had already done. Now it felt like she couldn’t cry again, regardless of what happened.

“Madam would like you to change into this, I must assist.”

The girl frowned, not one for confrontation, especially not with someone who so obviously didn’t deserve it. But it was frustrating how little the maid was telling her. So instead of lashing out, y/n walked over to the bag and pulled on its zipper.

Her breath held in her throat, lodged. Before her was a long, white dress. Hung lifeless before her. Something inside her felt like this was a joke, but then she remembered where she was and her heart crumbled.

“I-I don’t understand?” She turned to the woman beside her, her hands clutching shakily against the silk fabric that draped like curtains.

“This is all I can say mistress.” “Please.” She begged. “Help me… please don’t let this happen.” The girl turned hysterical, her knees failing as she crashed to the floor with a wail of desperation.

It shouldn’t be like this. It should be later, it should be when she wants it, with who she wants it with.

With Fred.

-

The group followed Fred and Ginny’s warnings, watching out for extra guards and taking them down as quietly as they could. One by one they joined each other inside the grounds, in a secluded spot away from the windows.

Fred was adamant to get inside but Ginny had stopped him, reminding the man that what they were walking into was unknown. For all they knew y/n’s parents could have a whole army waiting for them.

“What are you and your wand gonna do against a whole house of people eh?” She had hissed to him, which finally hit home that he couldn’t just rush in and save the girl that easily.

So they waited, and snuck in together, keeping Mr and Mrs Weasley in the rear to watch out for anyone who could follow them.

“I don’t like this.” George had whispered, catching up with his brother at the front of the group. “It’s too quiet.” Admittedly they were walking through what looked to be an old service entrance, the dust and cobwebs indicating that no one had used it in a good few years. But still, houses like these echoed, and yet there wasn’t a single sound coming from anywhere else above them.

-

The girl begged and begged, but she couldn’t escape her fate. The maid had tried to coax her into the wedding dress kindly, warning her that if she didn’t do as her parents said then there would be consequences.

In the end, one of the men who had been keeping watch outside her bedroom ended up coming inside. He had heard the desperate commotion and told the girl to keep quiet. When she, yet again, refused to change the man had stunned her.

When she came to the room was spinning like a carousel, the lights of the chandelier blurring into one on the ceiling. That was when the girl realised she was no longer in the moderate safety of her bedroom anymore.

The silk burnt her skin. It shouldn’t have, but it did and it flared across every inch of her body like a raging forest fire. She tried to move, but someone had her tied again, bound at the wrists and ankles. What a sight she must have been, curled up in a wedding dress and left on the floor of her family’s ballroom.

Her murmurs of confusion alerted two other men in the room, dressed the same as the one who had knocked her out and the one who had taken her from diagon alley.

“Come come sweetie, why don’t we get you on your feet.” His voice sickened her from across the room, he looked at her with a smug sense of pride. It was like he was a hunter and she was his prize catch of the day all dressed in white.

“Where’s Neville?” Her voice was still scratchy, it sounded pathetic against the deep acoustics of the room.

“The quivering mess of a man?” The beast holding her spat, his teeth bared at her cheeks. “I’d barely call him a man-” Another one of them scoffed.

“Now now, we’re graced enough to see a beautiful ceremony today boys, let’s be respectful.” The kidnapper smiled, demanding the attention of everyone who dared speak against him.

“I don’t understand,” She tried to force herself away from the two men’s grip, but they held tight, keeping her as still as they could.

“Well… that’s not for me to explain pretty lady.” He laughed, pacing up and down the room.

“Who will?” The double doors opened behind them, making everyone turn to see. Y/n stumbled slightly, her feet still bound together.

“Let her go, I will not have my daughter married off in shackles.” His voice boomed, louder than anyone else's as he commanded the henchmen to free her. Still they held onto her, making sure she would not run off.

“Father- please!” The girl begged, dropping to her knees, “You can’t do this to me!” “This marriage is happening young lady, whether you’re happy about it or not.” The shrill tone was easy to guess, without her even coming into sight for another few seconds.

“Mother, I’m begging- just let me go… I-I won’t bother either of you ever again!”

“Stand up.” She commanded, her presence daunting even to those watching over her like a prisoner. “You should have considered that before you ran off and tarnished our family name… it is too late for you to redeem yourself- this is our only option.” The woman explained curtly, before taking her place at the side of the girl’s father.

“Besides-” The kidnapper neared her as she wriggled beneath the two men’s arms, lifting her back to her feet. “I’ve heard your groom-to-be  is quite the catch.” He winked.

-

Harry and Ron took down two more guards while George and Fred tried to find their way through the complex labyrinth which was Crag hall, stunning any staff who got in their way.

“Try through there?” George suggested, but it took them to yet another dead end.

“We’re never gonna find her like this, and who knows how the others are getting on.” Fred complained, not wasting a single second before retracing their steps and trying a different direction.

Bill and Hermione came careering round a corner, the older man just managing to get out of the way of a stray hex when the girl pulled him into an empty room.

“What are you doing here?” He asked the two men, but George was already running after whoever had attacked them.

“It’s a dead end, half of this place is empty- George was right, something’s wrong.” Fred huffed, out of breath from bursting through multiple locked doors.

“Maybe they’re all in one place.” Hermione offered up, which was the first good idea anyone had suggested all day. “You know, if they need y/n for something- then everyone would be with her.”

The two men nodded, hearing George’s whistle which signalled that it was clear to come out. He knelt beside the stunned guard, trying to find anything on him that could help. A set of keys jingled against his belt.

“These might work for the rooms upstairs?” He suggested to the small group.

“Bill you go with him, I think me and Fred need to try something different.” Hermione stated, sending the other men off with a quick nod.

“Here,” She handed Fred the unconscious man’s wand. “Don’t want him coming round too quickly and hexing our heads off.” “Not really, if we can help it that is.” He shoved it inside his coat pocket, unbothered by whether it snapped in the process of another fight. “So what’s the plan?” The man asked.

Hermione watched the halls tentatively as she led him back to the first floor.

“If you needed somewhere to hide your daughter, then it wouldn’t be in sight, right?” The girl asked, as if it was a common situation to find yourself in.

“Well… no, so you think there’s a secret room?”

“I’m sure of it.”

The two of them stood under the doorway to the library and Fred wanted to groan, knowing that whenever a plan was involved Hermione would want to do her research before rushing into things.

-

The girl’s sobs were like a moaning ghost, echoing over the large ballroom which held only a small group of people. The man before her was older, she could tell, but that was about all she knew about him. His face was unrecognisable to the friends her parents would have over for big parties, which meant all of this was just a business deal for them.

A knife was placed against her back, the point slicing through the silk dress whenever she tried to move. So she didn’t dare. Her parents had silenced her, bored of hearing the begs for them to let her go.

“It is obvious that none of this needs to be dragged out.” Her father stated, smiling politely at the smartly dressed man who stood before her. “So we won’t dawdle.”

“Of course sir.”

Behind the charm, y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that the sheer volume of it could break through and alert someone. Not that anyone would come, they were out in the middle of nowhere with a household of people fulfilling her twisted parents’ wishes.

“Mr Nott-” Who the hell was this man? “Do you take my daughter, Miss y/l/n to be your lawful wedded wife?”

“I do.” He smirked, obviously quite pleased to have bagged himself a young, unwilling, bride. The girl was sobbing, her eyes blurred as her father turned to her.

“Do you Miss y/l/n, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”

She choked on her words, shaking her head as best she could with the grief running through her body. Whoever was holding the knife behind her stepped closer, sliding the blade slowly across her exposed back, just to remind her of what would happen if she disobeyed.

“You will agree.” Her mother’s voice sounded out, as she lifted her wand to remove the silencing charm with a deep breath. The girl nodded, racking her brain for any way that she could escape this hell.

Her throat untightened, the noise reaching them all as she sighed out in sudden relief. But it was short lived. Here laid her future, presented in the form of this cruel man who wanted a woman to listen to his every need and keep quiet. Never had she missed diagon alley more than in that moment, she begged to be back in the loft with the twins, in Fred’s arms, watching George guzzle down glass after glass of wine until he passed out. That was the life she chose. Not this.

Maybe the knife’s fate was sweeter than this. A sharp, short price to pay for running away. One that would be better than a lifetime of regret. The silver metal was cold against her skin, a constant reminder.

As Mr Nott’s eyes fixated on her, like he had just won her at a fair, the girl decided what was to be. The blade could finish this pain, once and for all.

“I will never marry this man.” The girl spat out, a sudden rush of happiness in herself that she had managed to finally speak out against her parents wishes. The confidence glowed all over her in that moment, the shine on her cheeks as she smiled in the confused face of her, no longer, husband to be.

There was a loud crash from the double doors.

-

“We don’t have time to read over these books Hermione, y/n could be in danger!” Fred reminded her, watching the girl scan over the surrounding shelves.

“I’m not reading Freddie, I’m looking for a way in.” “Huh?”

“All these books, there was something strange about them.” She explained, not stopping to look at the man who stood behind her.

“I thought I noticed something when we first checked in here, but we left too quickly for me to figure it out.”

“What? Hermione what’s in here?”

“These books, every single one of them are their most recent additions. In fact, they’re all brand new, not a single one looks as though it’s been picked up.”

“So, people don’t read books- you do know that isn’t a crime right?” Fred scoffed, but the girl just ignored him.

“Why would anyone fill up a library with new books?” “Because it’s a new library?”

“An old house like this has rooms that date back centuries, none of them look renovated, yet this one has obviously been done up on purpose.”

“Why in here then?” “Because in here, they are hiding something.” “Like a secret room!” “And you’ve got it, finally.”

Hermione found a crank between two of the bookcases, hidden by a large armchair.

“Here help me out.” Between them they managed to use the crank to push the bookshelves away, two double doors hidden perfectly behind it.

“Find anythin- woah!” Ginny said from the library’s doorway, having spotted them on her way past.

“Get the others, quick!” Fred ordered, sending the redheaded girl into a frenzy through the rest of the house.

He reached out for the handles, grunting when they didn’t budge under his weight.

“It’s been locked from the inside.” He huffed.

“Step back, let me try.” The girl beside him offered.

When the rest of the group arrived, both of them were throwing hexes at the unmoving doors. Both exhausted by the amount of shouting and fighting they’d already been through.

“I think we all need to do it, it shifted a little when I started helping.” Fred explained, stepping aside to let his brothers get a better stance. They all held their wands up high, pointed towards the locks.

With one almighty scene of hexes, the two doors flew off their hinges with a deafening crash. The clouds of smoke kept them in the dark for a few seconds, until Fred couldn’t hold himself back much longer and burst through it to get a better look at what was hidden inside.

“Freddie!” The girl screamed. She was on her knees, the white dress pooled around her as she hit the ground. Above her a man was holding her back, doing all he could to stop her from getting away to the safety of Fred.

The man was someone the twins knew, someone that the whole group was unfortunately familiar with. Someone whom Freddie wished he had killed during the war, when he had that chance.

Although Theodore Nott wrestled with her, he still managed to keep a smug look about him when he saw the Weasley’s and their friends stood amongst the ballroom’s debris.

“Let her go!” Fred boomed, ignoring the threatening stances he was faced with.

“I’m afraid there’s already been arrangements made, Weasley, seems you’ll have to find yourself another silly girlfriend.” He scoffed, yanking the whimpering girl to her feet.

Y/n thrashed with more furiosity than anyone had seen her possess in their time knowing her, spitting harsh words to the man holding her captive. Fred was joined by the rest of his group, who fought the other guards viciously, as well as the girl’s parents who weren’t ones to take the sidelines in any fight.

“I’d be more careful if I were you.” Theo hissed in her ear, low enough that no one could hear over the commotion. He held her there for a moment, so she could watch the guards hurl themselves upon Harry and Ginny. She screamed out for them to stop, but it was useless.

The twins made a run for her, everyone else too busy fighting to get the chance, but Theo was quicker. He whipped out his wand before they even had a chance to react, tossing two sharp hexes their way and knocking them to the ground.

Fred tried to get up but it was useless, only his head could move ever so slightly. He turned to her, seeing the fear on her face at the sight of his nearly lifeless body. The sound of her screams were the worst he’d heard, worse than the night of the break-in. Because she wasn’t bothered about her life this time. Now she was screaming out for Freddie, begging him to be okay.

His face moved, his eyes flickered at the last glimpse of her and the girl gasped with relief. There was a small smile on her face, before it was dragged away from the man. A last glimmer of hope, he saw it as, she was his last hope at happiness.

-

When the twins came around they were relieved to see that the guards, along with y/n’s parents, were knocked out and tied up against the far wall.

“Where is she!” Ginny was yelling at them, uncaring of the fact that they were just slipping back into consciousness. Molly was trying to stop her, but it was a futile attempt.

“Theo has her.” George groaned, getting to his feet with the help of Bill and Arthur. Hermione held out a hand for Fred, seeing the way his eyes glassed over at the thought of her.

“She has to be here somewhere.” He whispered, mostly to himself, but the girl beside him heard it still.

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“If they were going to apparate, they would have done it the second we got here.” He explained, barely waiting a second before heading out of the ballroom in the direction that Nott took the girl away.

“You think he needs her here?” “I think the wards that have been set up are keeping her here, if Nott thinks her parents are still alive then he won’t know that they’ve been broken, right?” “Very clever.” She commended him. “But I think there could be something-” “I know. I saw the dress, I’m not that oblivious- but still, he needs her here to have her parent’s blessing if they’re to marry. He hasn’t got that, so he’ll be hiding.”

The man was pacing the halls quicker than he’d walked in his entire life, scanning each room as he passed it in case they were inside.

“Hermione!” Ron called from back down the hallway.

“What?” She barked, noticing how Fred didn’t even stop his search.

“We need to obliviate them, could buy us some time.” “Then do it!” “You’re the best at it, come on.” Ron raced back into the ballroom, hearing his fiance groan behind him.

“Hey, Fred?” “I’ll be fine, just go!” He called back, leaving her little choice as she went to obliviate the minds of their captives.

-

The girl had sat in silence ever since Mr Nott had thrown her into one of the guest bedroom’s, keeping his wand pointed at the door. He didn’t want to lock it. He found great joy in telling y/n how he would hex the first person to come through it, laughing over the thought of their lifeless face.

It was blatant to see how the man played around with lives like they were his toys. But all she could think about was how Freddie was laying on the ballroom floor, his eyes full of helpless tears as she was dragged away.

As much as she wanted him to be okay, she begged that he wouldn’t be the one to open that door and face whatever jinx her captor was going to throw.

“Why?” Her voice was dull, void of any hope or joy.

“Speak up, you’re mumbling.” He spat, barely glancing her way as she lay crumpled against the far side of the room, as far from him as she could get within those four walls.

“Why!” Now she was just angry.

She wanted to see her parents suffer, she wanted to see those awful creeps in pain… but most of all she wanted to see Mr Nott writhing in a pool of his own blood. Fred deserved to see that, she deserved to do it.

“Why what?” The man chuckled, amused by the way she scowled at the back of his head.

“Why bother fighting this hard? What have they promised you?”

“A pretty bride of course.” He laughed, his wand outstretched at the sound of some nearby noise down the hallway. His tone was gut wrenching, making the girl want to vomit on his newly polished dress shoes.

“Cut the shit.” She spat, her bones weak from the hours of being tied up and left to starve.

“Your mummy and daddy never told me they had a feisty one,” He turned, losing interest in the door, and approached her. She had nowhere to go, the balcony door was locked and all the furniture was too heavy to try and break the glass.

“Stop it…” She whispered, sick of fighting him off every few minutes, but his hands still reached up to her face. The man grabbed her jaw, rendering her gaze stuck on his.

“You’ve been promised to me… and that’s all I wanted- now be good and do what I say.” He laughed at the way she gulped beneath his harsh grip, digging deeper with each passing second. The pain was a happy sight to the sick man.

“All you want is to own me.” She almost laughed at this small revelation, a weak and airy one at that.

“Now she’s got it.” Theodore hissed, his hand unmoving from her now marked skin.

There was another noise, reminding the man that he was being followed. So he stood again, leaving her slumped in slight relief to watch the door as the footsteps grew slowly closer. They were hesitant, yet heavy. It was him, it had to be.

“Have you ever been in love?” The girl asked, desperately trying to distract him once again. It could buy some time for Freddie, if Mr Nott wasn’t waiting to throw his hex immediately.

The man’s back stiffened a little.

“Hasn’t everyone been in love once, little girl.” He chuckled, dismissing her question.

“But you haven’t?” She pushed.

There was no answer, he just remained with his wand pointed at the door. Except it shook slightly as he reminisced, unbeknownst to the girl.

“Was she pretty?” Y/n knew she was pushing her luck, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“She... “ He breathed heavily, most likely contemplating why he was even entertaining her curiosity. “Well, it’s me- of course she had to be pretty. I would never settle for less.” His arrogance returned from the sidelines with one deep breath.

“What happened?” “It’s none of your business, now keep quiet.” He could hear whoever was in the hallway getting closer, and the girl’s voice was becoming more and more off putting.

“Mr Nott-” It was the first time she had addressed him all day. “I’m sorry for however you fell out of love, I can’t imagine it was pleasant in the slightest.” He made no reaction, so she kept going.

“Then again, I haven’t been in love before… not before Freddie.” She could see the way his chest heaved more than before as his eyes bored into the wooden doorframe. “So, I wouldn’t know what it is like to lose that love… but I suppose that is a threat as of today.”

Theodore tried to block her out, really he tried, knowing that any second that door before him would fly open and one of the Weasley clan would charge inside to claim his bride as their own.

But all he could think about was her. The one woman he had truly loved, after years of damning the feeling to death, was no longer his to be with. As his hand shook furiously before him, flashes of her perfect smile and devious ways washed through his mind.

She was married to another, by arrangement, his own offer cast aside when the whole ordeal became a business plan. Her father had never seen him suitable from the start, yet he had kept up the naive hope that the woman would see him as perfect enough to disobey her father’s requests.

He wasn’t, however, suitable for anyone it seemed.

“Who was she Mr Nott?” “Shut up!” The man snapped, still unable to concentrate as he had been doing so.

“It will help to talk,” “I do not need to talk to you bitch, now be quiet.”

The footsteps were gone. Or maybe he couldn’t hear them over the sound of his thudding heart. But it panicked him, made him scramble over to the girl in white who cowered at his advance.

He picked her up from the floor and whispered a spell on the french doors behind them, hearing the locks open. The girl whimpered once again in his arms, shivering as the wind rushed inside the room behind them, the threat of the balcony nearing.

“Please,” Y/n whispered, maybe to him, maybe to herself. But it made the man holding her jump slightly, looking down to see her staring at the door with hopeful intent.

For a split second she held such a look of determination that he was reminded of another, suddenly seeing the girl as someone he had loved in the past. It enthralled him how, even faced against a doomed future, she held onto the idea that Fred would save her. He knew the bastard Weasley would do all he could, too. Theodore knew she was loved, something he had never been.

“Pansy…” Mr Nott said airily, watching the girl and recognising her.

“What?”

“Pansy... Zabini.”

The door flew open, shocking them both. Fred was exhausted, his face pale and his body hunched over in pain as he all but fell into the room. There was no time for the girl’s captor to react when he heard the words expelliarmus fall from her lover’s lips.

Nott’s wand flew across the room, despite his attempts to catch it back.

“That was a very bad idea Weasley.” He laughed, remembering why he deserved this. Why he deserved the girl as his own, she was his to show off. To remind everyone that Theodore Nott wasn’t a lovesick fool for anyone.

The man produced a blade, bigger than the one previously pressed into the girl’s back. Now it prodded her side, making her torso tense up once again, yet her eyes softened at the sight of Freddie. Even if he did look like hell.

“Don’t hurt her, you bastard!” Fred spat, holding his hands in the air to show he meant no harm. Anything to protect her, he told himself, as long as nothing happens to y/n.

“Wand down.” Theo spat, chuckling at how easily he’d gained control of the situation.

“Fine, just let her go.”

“No can do, she’s been promised- my prize.” He cooed, feeling the way the girl beside him gulped when he got closer.

All the while, as the Slytherin bragged about his bride to be, Freddie’s eyes remained on the girl. They begged him to save her, to help her, to take her far away and stay with her forever. But she didn’t say a word, just watched him.

“The thing is, Weasley, that your little play thing here- she is just like all the other girls out there… so very disposable.” The knife in Nott’s hands ran up her body, grazing the dress with a light scratching sound. It grated in her mind as she held her breath.

“Please Theo, don’t.” Freddie begged, watching how the blade rested upon her neck. Every shaky breath she took knocked it about, her eyes widening every time.

“All this time she’s been crying and begging and whimpering, don’t you start too.” He sneered, holding the girl’s left arm tighter. “Weak little thing, don’t you agree?”

Fred tried to shake his head, the words not coming out even as he tried.

“Shame. I think she’s purely useless- worthless little y/n?” Theo turned to the girl, her scornful gaze somewhat a shock to him. Still, it gave him a chuckle. “Even her parents didn’t care about her… I see why.”

“Mr Nott?” She asked, her voice like an angel’s to Freddie.

“Yes darling.” Theodore teased, turning back to the redhead with a smug look.

Only to face the girl with shameful horror when she whispered “legilimens”.

He had no chance to fight it, no way to block her from seeing it all. The endless days spent with Pansy at Hogwarts, so in love with one another that it disgusted their friends to no end. She saw how they fought through the war together, side by side, only to be ushered away by their parents when it was clear they were to lose. The girl watched over his memories of the trials, his pleads of being under the imperius curse, his testimony to Pansy’s innocence. Only for the girl to announce her engagement to Blaise Zabini once they were pardoned and allowed to live freely. The girl felt the way his heart broke, over and over, time again. She could feel how little he valued himself, she could see the mask he wore.

“You bitch!”

The knife plunged deep into her side, a ricochet of shouts from Freddie as she stumbled away from Theodore. He ripped it out, the gash in the dress draping open to show off the bloody slit that was now in her skin.

It was a blur, as Fred grabbed his wand and advanced towards the man who held a look of regret over his face. But it wasn’t enough to save him.

“Stupefy”

He slumped onto the balcony railing, his eyes trained on her as she found her footing against the french doors. They were welling up now, covered in hazed tears. With all the pent up adrenaline left inside her she lunged for the man, grabbing his collar and holding his upper body over the edge, threatening to let him fall onto the cobblestones below.

“You remember. I know it all.” She whispered. “Find someone who loves you.” It was a stern plea. Y/n knew that without it, Theodore Nott would only descend into madness.

Fred came to her side when she fell, matching the way the stunned man’s body fell against the railings. The girl’s eyes closed every few seconds, her head misting over as the twin tried desperately to keep her awake.

“Please… y/n…. Wake up…. I need you awake…. I need you.” He begged, fading into nothing as she fell slowly forward into his arms.

Her lips parted as she tried to speak, slowly, but with her last drags of determination.

“Theodore? If you try this again…. With me… or anyone else…” Her breath got heavy as she struggled to push away the pain much longer, the searing sting piercing her side as if she’d been struck a second time. “Then… I’ll push you over.”

With that final warning her eyes closed for good and her body collapsed lifelessly against Fred who couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word as he scrambled around the room for his wand. It took another look at Theo, frozen in his fear to realise what the girl had seen inside his head must have meant something to her. Or else he would have been in a pool of his own blood, on the courtyard below.

“Y/n…” He finally managed. “I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.” Freddie closed his eyes, holding onto her for dear life and ignored the way he wanted to crumble into a string of sobs just at the sight of her. Then they disappeared, leaving Theodore to be found on the balcony…. Alone.

taglist:

@hufflrpuffforfred​

@a--1--1--3​ 

@lilypad-55449​ 

[ffangirlingsince2001]

End of the Tunnel: X

Description: It’s almost been a year since Fred Weasley was lost to the Battle of Hogwarts, and for George Weasley it might as well be an eternity. He is lost in the dark, no color to be found. Until suddenly there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Warnings: fluff (are they solving problems? hell yeah!)

MASTERLIST

***

Not much changed for about a week.

George barely left his bed and Ron did his best to force feed him when the hours got to far in between.

Hannah didn’t fare much better. Hermione dropped off a meal once a day and tried to stick around. Eventually the older girl dragged herself from her bed all on her own, and when Hermione returned one Friday evening, Hannah was standing behind the bar, not a tear to be seen.

“Hannah!”

“Oh, Hermione, I’m sorry I should have let you know,” she said, noting the carefully prepared meal,” It totally slipped my mind.”

“No worries, I’m just glad to see you out of bed.”

“Yeah, I mean I stayed in bed for less time after I was attacked by evil wizards. I love George, but if he thinks that poorly of me then I need to…” she trailed off as she choked on whatever she had planned on saying. It was clear she wasn’t planning to move on anytime soon as she wistfully wiped away the bar.

“He’ll come around.”

“What?” she asked, eyes snapped up from her daydream.

“Nothing, do you need any help?”

“No, Draco’s still around. Do you want a drink?”

“Um, no thank you, I actually have to get back, but I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, sliding the meal into her hands before hurrying out the door.

After making sure no muggles were around she quickly apparated to George’s small apartment. The owner of the flat was still lying in bed, not coping nearly as well as the offended.

“Get up,” Hermione snapped, but neither brother reacted. “I swear you Weasley boys, I said, get up,” she snapped again, this time whipping her wand, yanking sheets from beneath George and tipping Ron’s chair forward.

“Come off it, Hermione. The man’s suffering,” Ron mumbled, fighting with the still tipped chair.

“So is the woman, and yet she thinks you’re never coming back, so you are going to shower, shave, put on her favorite suit and march yourself over to her and beg for her forgiveness.” George stared at her, shifting uncomfortably.

“I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“Hermione, you don’t understand what I said to her, I can’t.”

“I do know what you said, and I know what I’m saying, get up.” She yanked on his arm as he dropped back to the bed and dragged him towards the bathroom. “She’s practically crying at the very mention of your name, and yet she’s up, she’s alive, and she wants nothing more than you, George Weasley.” His eyes were wide, standing in the threshold of the bathroom. “You heard me, get in the shower before I force you in there with my bare hands.” With a wave of her wand the door slammed in his face and the faucet turned on, steam quickly creeping beneath the door.

When she was satisfied the man was doing as he was told she turned to Ron, wand still raised.

“And you Ronald Weasley, will not enable him. No more making excuses.”

“But ‘mione-.”

“No buts, I will not allow self-deprecation to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to him since the war. He loves her and the only thing holding him back is himself, and your willingness to let him drown in his own mistakes.”

“What are you going to do if she doesn’t take him back?”

“She will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she forgave him the moment, he said it.” Ron didn’t know what to say. It had never occurred to him that she had forgiven him, he figured he would simply be cleaning up tears, not helping his brother back to the girl he had wounded. “They always forgive, you should know that better than anyone,” Hermione whispered, glancing down at the ring on her finger. They hadn’t had a chance to tell anyone yet, but it didn’t seem to matter when others were in shambles. He grinned sheepishly and opened his mouth to retort, but George threw open the door, saving him from something he was sure to regret later.

The older man looked different than he had minutes ago. The stubble across his chin had vanished and his hair had been combed. He had put on the suit Hermione had forcefully suggested. The only thing that looked out of place was the misery and shame that lingered in his eyes.

“It’s not going to work.”

“George, it’s going to work.” She reached out her hand to both boys and as they took them, she apparated them out of the front of the bar.

George instantly regretted letting her convince him to leave the house. He was standing on the very street that had led him to such happiness and then to such sorrow, staring at the very sign that had once welcomed him in.

Now it only seemed full of scorn.

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.”

“Hermione-.”

“Find that Gryffindor courage and get in there,” she ordered, thrusting him through the front door. She stepped back to Ron’s side and linked their fingers together. “He’ll be fine,” she whispered, not sure who she was trying to convince.

As George stepped into the bar, he felt anything but fine. He was taken aback by the fact that it was still warm. He thought she would have withdrawn it from him, that somehow the warm glow of the fire wouldn’t reach him. It was surprisingly busy, but then it could have been Boxing Day for all he knew. The door banged shut behind him, the bell he had once been so familiar with, announcing his arrival.

The absolute beauty behind the bar turned, dropped the glass she was holding at the sight of him. He didn’t know what to say, or what to do, because over the week she seemed to have grown only more beautiful. He didn’t know that was possible.

“Draco,” she called, and George almost ran out right then. She had already replaced him with the man he had been worried about all along. But then the blond popped out from the backroom, “Can you take over for a moment?”

Draco looked ready to argue, to offer his opinion on Hannah disappearing anywhere with the man who had destroyed her, but he stayed silent, pulling out the broom to sweep up the glass. All he said was with a sharp dirty look sent across the bar, and it said it all it needed to.

‘I’ve killed for her before.’

She almost rushed over to him and led him through the crowds into the backroom. His heart soared to have her hand in his, and everything vile he had thought since he entered the bar was sucked out of him like a vacuum. The moment the crowd was gone he urgency disappeared and she looked just as nervous as he felt.

“Draco and I never-.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not trying to be Fred, I just-.”

“I know.”

“And I just want you to forgive me, and I want you to hold me, but if you’re here to say goodbye, please make it quick, because I-.”

“Hannah,” he interrupted pulling her into his arms. She melted instantly. “I know, I know it all, and I’m so very sorry, I didn’t mean it, I just let Ron get to me, you’re more than enough, you’re more than I could ever ask for, you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. None of this is your fault, I was stupid and spiteful.” She was crying now. “I’ve been a mess every moment you’ve been gone, and if you’re willing, come back, please come back.” She nodded quickly, wiping away tears.

He kissed her and it was like all the clouds had suddenly vanished. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back with the same starvation. It had been so long, too long, and he never wanted her gone from his side ever again. It was true what they say about not knowing what you have until you lose it. He had lost her, and before this very moment, he was sure it was forever.

Now that she was back in his arms, he was never going to let her go again, not when she fit so perfectly.

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 7: Shall We Dance

• Something I didn’t consciously realize about this film until reading Hannah Hyam’s book is that Astaire and Rogers don’t dance together until nearly an hour in. That hasn’t happened since Gay Divorcee. What was anyone thinking??

• Shall We Dance suffers from a lot of extra crap that it didn’t need, such as extraneous characters, far too many interruptions in the Astaire and Rogers relationship, and a bunch of weirdness like life-sized dolls, life-like masks, and backbending ballerinas. The film also has a lot of wasted potential, including a great score and songs by George and Ira Gershwin. 

The Gershwins were already well acquainted with Astaire and Rogers. The duo had first met when she was starring in the brothers’ show, Girl Crazy, and Astaire was brought in to help with choreography. Rogers was close friends with George and even dated him. Astaire had known the brothers prior, having starred in a few of their shows with his sister, Adele. 

• Our characters/actors: Peter “Petrov” Peters (Fred Astaire), Linda Keene (Ginger Rogers), Jeffrey Baird (Edward Everett Horton), Arthur Miller (Jerome Cowan)

• Around the time I was first really into classic Hollywood films, including these ones, my family and I adopted a new dog. I annoyed my parents to no end by suggesting we name him Peter P. Peters. Don’t know why I latched onto that name but I did. 

• Even in the massive portrait of Petrov, you can see Astaire has his fingers curled in rather than fully extended.

• Astaire’s ballet attire lets us once again see just how skinny he is. 

• Always loved how Peter does a little tap at the rhythmic sound of his name and birthplace: Pete Peters, Philadelphia PA.

• Rogers’ cardigan with all of its baubles is truly awful looking. It will only be out done by a terrible floral dress she wears later. 

• I do however like that she shoves her handsy stage partner into a fountain. Why are men constantly the worst?

• “And why must there always be a kiss at the second-act curtain?” is YET ANOTHER example of these films trolling us. Not once up until this point has any act of an Astaire/Rogers outing included a kiss between them. 

• Linda’s disinterest in even meeting Petrov is based on the assumption that he’s a “simpering toe dancer.” While that’s incorrect, she’s not wrong that he is indeed another man who has seen a picture of her and wants to tell her he can’t live without her. So she gets partial credit. 

• If Peter wasn’t totally smitten before, Linda’s jab, “It’s just a game little American boys play” gets him. 

• As a mixed race number, “Slap That Bass” is incredibly unusual for the era. Astaire was a great admirer of African-American dancers and was strongly influenced by Bill Robinson and John W. Bubbles. I love the blend of all of the voices in this song. 

• The dance portion of “Slap That Bass” gives Astaire a chance to show off more of his innovative mind and choreography. He dances in time with the sounds of the ship’s engine and compels the camera to follow him across and up the vast set. The dance is also special in that we have behind the scenes footage of Astaire rehearsing, thanks to a home video shot by George Gershwin. 

• Peter making Jeffrey believe the boat is rocking may seem a bit unbelievable but having been on a large ship myself, sometimes you don’t realize it’s rocking until you see other passengers weaving or a giant chandelier swaying. 

• I usually skip most if not all of Jeffrey and Arthur’s scenes together. They slow down this film soooo much.

• Like in all of their films, songs are sometimes heard in the background before the actual musical number they appear in. But because this film is scored by the Gershwins, there’s an array of shorter pieces of music that are all their own, such as the whimsical score heard while Rogers and then Rogers with Astaire are walking her dog.

• The dog Peter borrows to give himself an excuse to talk to Linda hits his bark cue perfectly and looks extremely happy about it. 

• I would love to know what exactly Astaire and Rogers are talking about while walking her dog. Maybe they were given lines that were then not recorded or maybe it’s improv. But it seems very natural. 

Rogers did say that Astaire was a wonderful conversationalist and was adept at talking while dancing, something she noted most men couldn’t manage. 

• Wow do I love it when Rogers gets to be extra sassy

Peter: “Isn’t it wonderful being here tonight like this? Still on the same boat together.”

Linda: “Oh, I seldom change boats in mid-ocean.”

• “Beginner’s Luck” is such a charming, fast song that Astaire delivers wonderfully. He hardly seems to take a breath. 

A jazzed up version of “Beginner’s Luck” is the song Peter tried to dance to in Paris but the record kept getting stuck. 

• Something this movie fails at is letting Linda and Peter’s relationship continue to progress before throwing more obstacles in their way. We know from the gossip of the ship’s staff that they have been spending a lot of time together. When we see them, they are having a relaxing evening that’s incredibly domestic: sitting side by side on the deck while she knits and he smokes. Wouldn’t it have been nice to see more of this part of their relationship? 

• Why on earth did Peter think sending Jeffrey to fix the false baby rumors was the right decision? Jeffrey can’t handle a single thing. 

• Infuriated at the rumors that she’s married to Peter and pregnant with their baby, Linda tries to call him. “Operator! Get me Mr. Petrov. What? Don’t you dare congratulate me!”

• The theme of this movie is supposed to be the blend of dancing and music styles. Peter’s ballet and Linda’s jazz styles are one example, George Gershwin’s varied score, which switches from jazz to waltz to foxtrot to classical, etc, is another. But it’s a fairly weak concept that doesn’t quite land and reportedly, neither Astaire or Ira Gershwin was wild about it. 

• I love the new version of “Slap That Bass” that plays as Peter and Jeffrey enter the rooftop club. 

• When Rogers sings “They All Laughed,” she is singing to an off-screen Cary Grant, her friend and sometimes date who was visiting the set at the time. 

She is also wearing a dress with a horrible pattern. It’s supposed to be floral but it always makes me think of amoebas. Maybe it looked better in color?

• Astaire clearly has fun during the part where Peter hams it up a bit with his ballet next to Linda’s tapping. 

• In some ways, “They All Laughed” is reminiscent of “Isn’t it a Lovely Day.” They’re testing each other, trading glancing as they see whether the other can keep up with the increasingly complex steps. Until now, Linda didn’t know Peter could dance this way so her surprise and amusement unfolds slowly as the routine progresses. But he has been grinning since the start because he’s hoping to win her back through this dance.

• This is another duet where it takes a long time before they touch. The first physical contact is just her executing a series of spins with the help of his fingers. And it’s during this part that Rogers finally breaks into a wide smile.  

• When he spins her up onto the piano the first time, she happily waits for him to retrieve her. And when he spins her into a seated position and upright again a few times don’t miss how he looks at her with a wry, slightly mischievous smile. 

• The Linda doll is so creepy and not lifelike. Who was fooled by this?

Also, Arthur is terrible. Jeffrey is terrible too but he’s an idiot so I’m more willing to let it slide. 

• Peter walking out of Linda’s bedroom in the morning in his robe right in front of her fiancé while she is in her negligee is pretty funny. 

• Peter and Linda’s nice day out is just further proof that this movie should’ve spent more time on the two of them together rather than breaking them up every few minutes. 

• “Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off” is a fun song, though Astaire gets most of the good words imo. However, Rogers does do an extra affectation to some of her lyrics and that makes them funnier. 

At one point when she’s singing, he turns to her and for just a moment his face goes soft in that way it does sometimes when he looks at her. 

• Some film historians have labeled this dance as not that great when compared to other Astaire and Rogers numbers. But I’ve always found it very enjoyable and innovative. While Gene Kelly probably takes the gold medal for dancing on skates in It’s Always Fair Weather, Astaire and Rogers did it first, did it well, and deserve some extra credit for a duet on skates rather than a solo. 

Rogers also deserves some extra credit since the idea to dance on skates was supposedly hers. And probably deserves even more credit for doing this dance on skates while also in heels. 

• For some reason I really enjoy that they perform this number in their hats and street clothes. It’s so informal and feels like something you do on a fun date. 

• Throughout this dance, Peter continues to be the playful one, as he’s been in their interactions in the film, and Linda is the more serious one who needs to be coaxed into having fun. Maybe this is why Astaire frequently glances at her and even spends long seconds watching her at different parts as they move into the next series of steps. Rogers is more reserved in her expressions but whenever they are face to face, she appears happiest. 

A few times she looks triumphant, leading me to wonder if they or she had finally nailed a section that was giving them or her trouble. 

• Can’t say for certain but I swear she almost falls when they do the backwards steps. She just baaaarely snags his hand in time. 

They had to film this dance something like 150 times so I imagine there was more than one time where at least one of them did indeed fall. 

• The circular dance they do leading up to the end is based on a dance Astaire and his sister made famous in their time on the stage. 

• Apparently the grassy bank they tumble onto wasn’t padded so those fake grimaces of pain aren’t that fake. Their exchange after the tumble feels very much like married banter to me:

Peter: “Yes, it was my idea.”

Linda: “Have you any more of them?”

Peter, exaggerating: “No.”

• They’re such a good match:

Linda: “Peter, you’ve got to marry me.”

Peter: “Why, Linda, this is so sudden.”

• Oh 1930s Hays Code humor. The cop who overhears their conversation thinks she’s pregnant and pressuring the father of the baby into marrying her. Hurr hurr hurr.

• Heh:

Linda: “I beg your pardon but what are grounds for divorce in this state?”

Clerk: “Marriage.”

• It will never make sense to me that a dance was not planned in this film for “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.” It’s a truly lovely song. I know Astaire and Rogers will dance to it more than ten years later in The Barkleys of Broadway but it’s just not the same. 

It’s also a good reminder in the film that Peter has legitimate feelings for Linda and she does for him but they’re far more conflicted. Though he must sense he’s hooked her in a bit since he becomes very aloof once they return to the hotel in the stupid hope of making her want him more? Idk, men are dumb. 

• “They Can’t Take That Away From Me” carries special poignancy because it became a form of consolation to Ira Gershwin after his brother suddenly died two months after this film was released. 

• Oh Linda’s face when she walks in to see Peter with the loathsome Lady Tarrington is so sad and crestfallen. Ever thought you and your crush were finally on the same page only to find them canoodling with someone else? 

Although, she could’ve knocked first instead of just walking straight into his room…

• The ballet portion of the finale is weird and unappealing in every way. Harriet Hoctor was known for the backbend dance she does in this film. Maybe it was something spectacular in 1937?? but it doesn’t hold up. 

One thing I’ll say about Astaire’s duet with Hoctor, it’s a great chance to see him in a romantic duet with someone other than Rogers and notice how different he acts. No secret smile, no lingering looks, no whispered words, no soft expressions. 

• “Shall We Dance” is another upbeat song that deserves more than being featured in the remaining few minutes of the film. Their dance is far too short but wonderful all the same. Her delight when he finds her always makes me smile. She also executes some impressive full length lunges that I couldn’t do at this moment much less in a dress and heels in the middle of a dance number. 

For a few seconds, his fingers press into the exposed dip of her spine in yet another example of Victorian hotness. 

• And so we finish film number 7. Shall We Dance underperformed at the box office and wasn’t a critical darling. Everyone, the actors included, started to feel the magic was coming to an end. Coming up next is a film I pretty much never rewatch: Carefree. 

[watchmegetobsessed]

Different - Adam Sackler (pt. 1)

honestly, i’ve been enjoying writing this story SO MUCH, sorry for those who follow me for my shawn content, but this is generally a place for my writing! anyway, i hope you’ll enjoy the story!

Series summary: Hannah lets you move in with her and Adam as you are her second cousin and in need of a place to live. Your relationship with Adam starts rocky, but things soon seem to be taking a turn.

Pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

word count: 4.6k

masterlist

You really should have thought that moving in with a couple is the worst possible thing you can do, but it’s not like you had too many choices. If you didn’t want to end up living with some heroin addict weirdo, living with your second cousin, Hannah was the best choice. But Hannah came with her 6’2” boyfriend, Adam, who is almost equally as weird as a heroin addict sometimes, but you try to ignore this small little detail.

After all, you are here, in New York City, living the dream, and no one can ruin this for you. Or you thought.

Living with Hannah and Adam at the beginning went smooth. She seemed happy to have you there, tried her best to help you taking your first steps away from home and Adam… Well, he did not seem too happy that you were there, but he didn’t have too much saying in it. At least he didn’t try to make life miserable for you, he just simply didn’t try to connect with you in any ways. When Hannah wasn’t home you two were like strangers walking around, not even saying a word to each other. At first it bothered you, knowing that he doesn’t want you there, but then you decided to just suck it up and don’t care about him. As long as he doesn’t make life harder for you, he could do whatever he wanted.

The first few weeks went by like this, a lot of adjusting, a bunch of new things, exploring the world. But soon enough you realized that just like every other couple, Hannah and Adam also have their bad days. Sometimes they last for a week.

Sitting on your bed you take your headphone off, the music fades into the distance and the shouting takes its place as you check if they are still at it. Surprise, they are.

They started the fight about an hour ago, you can’t tell what it was really about, they were already arguing when you got home and you just silently ducked into your room, trying not to be in the way and give them privacy by not listening to them, but now you really can’t stop yourself from hearing into tonight’s show.

As you step to your door and lean against it you try to figure out what they are fighting about.

“This is not what I’m talking about, Adam! I’m just saying that you could at least try a little!” you hear Hannah’s voice that’s followed by a grunt from Adam.

“Why? Why should I? It doesn’t worth it, so why should I even waste any of my time and energy on them?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because we are together?”

“That’s not the answer to everything, Hannah!” Adam snaps and you guess he slammed his hand on the kitchen counter judging from the sounds.

You huff to yourself, going back to the bed and putting your headphone back, hoping that they’ll stop sometime soon.

About half an hour later you are forced to leave your room because your stomach is about to start a riot if you don’t eat something, so you decide to peek out. For your surprise, it’s quiet when you stop the music, the shouting has ended. You slowly open the door, you see or hear nobody so you assume that they are gone. Making your way to the fridge you grab everything you need for a sandwich and as you line the ingredients up on the counter you start humming to yourself while making the sandwich.

“Your voice is awful,” you hear Adam’s voice from behind and you jump almost screaming as you turn around and see him stand in the living room, looking at you with that blank expression he always has on and what you can never figure out.

“Jeez, thanks. Didn’t know the kitchen is the stage of The Voice,” you chuckle awkwardly. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Well, I am,” he states matter-of-factly, just staring back at you, and it’s starting to get intimidating.

“Um, alright. I’m making a sandwich, would you like one?” you offer, trying to be nice now that he actually took the effort to talk to you, it’s probably the fifth time since you’ve moved in so you don’t take it for granted.

“You have cheese?”

“I do,” you nod holding up the pack.

“Then yes, I want one.”

Nodding again you get another plate as he walks over to the fridge and you already know he is going to get the milk. One of the reasons you thought that he is a weirdo when you moved in is the fact that he drinks milk as if it was water. Maybe this is why he grew up to be so tall and bulky.

“Where’s Hannah?” you ask, eyes focused on the process in front of you.

“Fuck knows,” he scoffs. “Probably at Marnie’s crying about what an asshole I am.”

You finish the sandwiches and join him handing him his plate. He mumbles a faint thanks before jumping right into it.

“What made her think you are an asshole?” you curiously ask as you start eating in a more low-key way.

“Apparently, not wanting to hang out with her friends is still a constant problem of hers, and I just wish she understood we don’t have to share everything just because we are a couple!”

This has been constantly brought up between them, you’ve heard them argue about this a lot. To be honest, Hannah’s desire to get all her friends and loved ones together into one big happy group has kind of always been a problem of hers as far as you remember. She keeps bringing different people together, hoping they would get along well but sometimes even though you are a common denominator in two individuals’ life, it doesn’t mean they are also meant to be on good terms. Knowing her friends you’re not surprised Adam doesn’t want anything to do with them, they are just simply two different worlds and Hannah should just realize and accept this fact.

“I think you’re right,” you speak up after a short break and Adam throws his hands up.

“Thank you! Finally someone who sees my point!”

“Yeah, I mean… They are her friends, not yours. It’s one thing to know each other but you are not obligated to like them and have them as your own friends.”

“Exactly. But Hannah doesn’t seem to realize this and she is driving me nuts about it!”

“She’ll come around,” you shrug and he gives you a look. You both know she won’t, she is just too stubborn. “Okay, maybe not,” you chuckle.

When he is done eating he just sits there, his head hanging low and as you chew the remaining of your sandwich you take a good look at him. This is the first time you two had an actual, normal conversation where you didn’t feel like he would rather have you moved out by the next day. You knew from the first moment that his personality is quite odd and paired with his tall, dour appearance he has been pretty intimidating, but you feel a change in that now.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Thanks for the sandwich,” he sighs walking up to the sink and he quickly rinses his plate and glass before disappearing in the bathroom, leaving you alone.

Hannah comes home quite late that day, you are almost asleep when you hear them talking, but it’s not loud enough to figure out what they are saying, you just hear the muffled noises through the wall. When you wake up the next morning to leave for work the door to their room is slightly open and as you walk past it you see that they are sleeping, cuddled up, Adam holding her from behind, his hair messily covering his forehead.

The everydays become a little different from that day. The change you felt with Adam seems to last, you no longer feel like he wants you to pack up and leave, it feels like he has a more pleasant attitude towards you and it’s making you feel a lot better. Maybe he was just unsure how to reach out to you and now that you have officially had a short but nice conversation, he feels more comfortable to have you around.

One evening you are in your room, sorting out some emails you need to check tomorrow at work when there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Come in!” you call out thinking it’s Hannah, but for your biggest surprise Adam walks in. “Hey,” you look up as he wanders in, his attention quickly diverted in different parts of the room.

“Haven’t been in here since you moved in,” he states as he eyes your dresser, your jewelries laying on it and the pictures on the wall; some family photos, pictures with your high school friends, you and your dog from back home, you and your best friend, Ella.

“Would be weird if you just hung out in here when I’m not here,” you chuckle putting your laptop to the side and standing up you step next to him.

“Is that you?” he asks pointing at a photo that was taken about fifteen years ago at Christmas. You and your parents are sitting under the tree, you have the widest grin on your face, perfectly showing your gappy set of teeth, three of them lacking at the time. You have your hair in two pigtails and you’re holding onto the teddy bear you just got.

“Yeah. My shiny teeth and me,” you joke making him let out a huffed chuckle.

He examines the pictures for a little longer before crossing his arms on his chest he turns to you.

“So there is this work thing tomorrow for Hannah, she and her coworkers are going out to some bar and she wants me to go, but I really don’t want to.”

“Okay?” you say not really understanding why he tells you this.

“I thought that you could come, so I don’t suffer alone.”

“I wasn’t invited,” you say with a chuckle.

“I’m inviting you now.”

“I don’t think that counts.” Tugging your hair behind your ears you go back to your bed and sit in the middle as Adam stands there, staring down at you intensely.

“I don’t want to sit there all evening listening to their whining about stuff that don’t even matter in life but they think is the end of the world!”

“Then don’t go.”

“You know that’s not an option, Hannah would flip if I said I didn’t want to go.”

“You can’t have this argument forever, sooner or later you two have to agree on something regarding this question.”

“It’s not a question to her,” he rolls his eyes. “Y/N, please! I’ll talk her into letting you come too, you just have to say that you’ll come!”

“Adam…” you sigh and he sits to the edge of the bed as he starts begging.

“Y/N, please! I’ll… pay you twenty bucks! Just please say you’ll come and save me from dying! This is not how I imagined my death,” he whines and you start laughing at his words. It’s quite the sight to see such a huge man begging you.

“Twenty-five and I’ll go.”

“Fucking deal!” he snaps holding his hand out and you just shake it chuckling.

Needless to say he talked Hannah into inviting you as well so the next day you find yourself getting ready to leave with the two of them. You’re just finishing putting your hair up into a ponytail when Adam walks in, knocking on the door, but coming in before you could say anything since the door was already open.

“Here,” he says handing you the money which you take and put into your purse.

“Thanks, now I feel like a prostitute,” you mumble laughing to yourself.

“That requires sex, so you’re good.”

“Thanks for the info.”

“Don’t you dare leave my side while we are there. I can’t hold up a conversation with them.”

“What if I have to go to the toilet?” you ask.

“No peeing or other business on the toilet tonight,” he shakes his head making you laugh. “I’m paying you, so technically I’m your boss tonight, so I’m making the rules.” “I didn’t sign up for this. To be exact I didn’t sign anything,” you joke walking over to your wardrobe to grab your jacket.

“Don’t come at me with this… legal shit. If you dare—Hannah!”

Turning around you see Hannah walking in, suspiciously eyeing the two of you.

“What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, we were just talking about how excited we are to have a nice evening with your cool colleagues!” Adam lies and you have to bite into your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“Really?” she asks narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend.

“Of course!” he gestures with his hands around before grabbing her face and kissing her. “Go, put your shoes on, we don’t want to be late,” he urges and then pushes her out of the room smacking her ass and you just chuckle silently, shaking your head at him.

He follows her out but then turns back giving you one last torturous look.

“Nice saving,” you whisper.

“Thanks, I’m a talented actor,” he says before finally exiting the room, leaving you laughing to yourself silently.

Sitting in the crowded bar with Adam pressed up next to you in the booth you quickly realize he wouldn’t have survived without you. Hannah’s colleagues are… quite interesting to say the least. It’s like they live on another planet, they have such a different view of the world than you or Adam or even Hannah, but she is trying hard to fit in and you’re just sitting there, sipping on your drink trying not to grimace.

“I’m killing myself,” Adam whispers over to you and you nod in agreement.

“Not before I could kill myself.”

He huffs before taking his coke from the table and chugging it down. The people around you start talking about something nonsense and you feel like your brain just zones out, shutting the voices out as you stare at the people dancing on the small dance floor at the back of the place. The music is not that bad, the two drinks you’ve had was enough to set your mood for dancing and you wonder if it would be weird to just get up and do it.

“Hey,” you poke Adam’s side with your elbow. “I wanna dance, this conversation is killing my brain cells.”

“Anything is better than this,” he nods before turning over to Hannah. “Y/N and I are gonna check out the dance floor, I’ll get you another drink on the way back,” he quickly informs her kissing her forehead before you both slide out of the booth and leave before anyone could say a word.

With Adam following right behind you get to the group of dancing people and just let yourself enjoy the music. Adam is an interesting sight as he tries his best at dancing, but you have to admit it’s kind of cute how he throws his limbs around to the rhythm, towering over basically everyone around him.

It’s far more entertaining than being at the table and trying to listen to what those snobs have to say. For a little while you even forget why you came. No money, no deal, no nothing, just genuinely having a good time with Adam. You lose track of time and probably he does too, because when Hannah appears with a not too pleased look on her face you both seem surprised.

“This is so not what I was expecting from the two of you!” she snaps as the three of you walk into the apartment not so much later that night. Once she found you on the dance floor she made it clear she wants to go home, so you said goodbye to the snobs and left.

“What did we exactly do?” he asks, already tired of the conversation. You kick your shoes off and going into your room you put your jacket away before walking out and joining them to listen to what she wants to say.

“You disappeared for an hour!”

“It didn’t feel like an entire hour,” you shrug telling the truth.

“Well it was. And I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Why didn’t you use the time to talk to your colleagues? Isn’t that why you wanted to go?” Adam questions, getting frustrated.

“I wanted you to be there with me! Is that too much to ask for?”

“It is!” he snaps and you jump a little, feeling like maybe you should leave now and let them smooth it out, but you can’t move. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to go out with your friends? That involves your annoying ass coworkers too!”

“This again?” she scoffs throwing her hands up in the air. “I thought we were already over this! You are my partner, so I obviously want you to get along with other people in my life!”

“I get along with Y/N, isn’t that enough?” he asks gesturing towards you and you suddenly feel anxious that now you are involved too again.

“I’m happy you get along with her, but she is not the only person in my life.”

“Okay, then just accept that I’m a socially loser asshole, end of story!”

“I’m not accepting it, because it’s not true!”

“It is!” he shouts and you can tell he has lost all of his patience. “I’m trying so hard Hannah, but I feel like you just keep trying to change me and that’s not okay! I get constantly reminded by you that I’m not enough even if you don’t realize you’re doing this, but this is how I feel and I’m so fucking sick of it! It’s fucking my mind up!” he shouts as you stand there, watching in shock how much anger is in him. You’ve never seen him like this, given the fact that you usually lock yourself up in your room whenever they are fighting, but this time you are watching it from the front row.

Hannah blinks at him a few times, watching him pace the floor back and forth in the living room before she speaks up.

“I’m sorry if you feel like this, it was never my intention to make you feel like I want to change you,” she says in a calm, but obviously hurt tone.

You decide it’s better if you leave them alone at this point, so turning around you go into your room and close the door, fighting the urge to listen on them back. You give them some time to talk while you start cleaning up a bit in your room, putting things away that ended up in the wrong place recently, but soon you hear the front door opening and closing and you can’t stop yourself from checking out what’s going on outside.

Peeking out you see Adam standing in the living room, hands on his hips as he is chewing on his bottom lip anxiously.

“Hey, is everything alright?” you softly ask standing at your door.

“She said she’ll spend the night at Marnie,” he mumbles shaking his head. “She always runs away to fucking… Marnie.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure you’ll figure it out when she comes back.”

He stands there taking a deep breath before shaking his head and running his fingers through his messy hair.

“Yeah,” he nods shortly before turning and taking a look around as if he just realized where he really is. “Wanna watch a movie or some shit? I could use the distraction.”

“Sure, of course!” you nod eagerly, wanting to help, because somewhat you feel like you are the one to blame for this fight. After all, you were the one who wanted to dance, you should have just sit through that hell and wait until Hannah finally wanted to go home.

You make some popcorn and let Adam choose a movie and a few minutes later the two of you are on the couch, watching some action movie, munching on the popcorn, not talking about Hannah anymore.

“How hard can that be?” Adam huffs under his breath nodding at the TV where a guy is twirling a rod around like a ninja before he attacks the enemy.

“It’s all in the wrist.”

“Huh? How do you know?” he asks turning to you.

“I was a majorette in high school, I can twirl a baton, I’m sure it’s similar,” you shrug stuffing some popcorn into your mouth.

“Really? Can I see?” He seems excited learning this new detail about you.

“I don’t have a baton here with me.”

“I have a wooden stick, that could work,” he offers and jumping to his feet he runs into their room and returns with what looks like the leg of a table, handing it to you.

You just shake your hear chuckling as you dust your hands off and standing up you take the stick.

“There are some basic moves, and they can be combined,” you begin to explain as you start twirling the stick around the way you learned back in the days while Adam is watching you seemingly amazed. “You can throw it, move it basically anywhere, you just have to be able to move your wrist, that’s it.”

“Okay, this looks fucking cool. Can you teach me?”

Chuckling you nod your head and handing the stick over to him you stand on his side and start guiding his hand slowly, twirling the stick around.

“Just relax your muscles, you need to let your hand move in a flow,” you explain showing him how he is supposed to do it. After a few tries he does one of the basic twirls and happily cheers at his new accomplishment.

“That was awesome, I should be a majorette!”

“Surely, you’d look cute in the dresses we used to wear,” you laugh as the two of you get back on the couch and you think about all the shiny, colorful dresses you had for shows and competitions. Adam would definitely be a pretty sight in one of those.

You get back to the movie but Adam soon gets distracted again and speaks up.

“So how come you never bring any guys home?”

You’re surprised by the random question and at first you don’t even know what to answer.

“Um, I don’t really date,” you shrug awkwardly.

“Are you lesbian?”

You almost choke on your own breath as you hear his question and you have to clear your throat before speaking up.

“I’m not lesbian.” This is definitely not the way you should ask someone about their sexual orientation, not that it’s any of his business in addition.

“Okay, then how come you don’t date?”

“First of all, if I was lesbian, I could still say that I don’t date. Second… I’m just… not good at it, I guess.”

“You mean sex?”

His blunt questions are definitely making you blush right now, feeling the heat crawling up on the back of your neck as you try to hide how anxious you are because of the topic.

“Not sex. Dating someone is not just about sex.”

“Yeah, but it’s like a big part of it.”

“It is.”

“Then how did you mean it? I’m confused.”

Sighing you have to realize he is not going to ditch the topic until he gets his answers, so you have to explain yourself even though you’d rather just run out right now.

“I’m not… like Hannah in this field,” you start, trying to find the right words.

“Okay, go on,” he nods.

“It’s harder for me to get intimate with someone, physically and emotionally as well. I don’t like the process of getting to know each other, it’s so… forced for me. My first and only boyfriend… I’ve known him my whole life, so there was never this awkward phase where we were testing it all out, figuring each other out. Because we already knew each other and then when we were sixteen we just casually decided to start dating. So I’m not really good at this part and it’s making dating really hard on me.”

“How long did you date him?”

“Four years. We did distance for a long time when we both went to college, but it tired us both out and we called it quits.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Yeah. It’s been two years, but I’m still not used to this whole dating thing, so I decided to just… not do it. I still have time, I have other things to focus on right now.”

It took you a long time to find your peace of mind with your situation and accept that dating is not really on your plate right now. Your mom keeps asking if you met someone new lately, but you always have to tell her that it’s not happening at the moment. She can’t really understand your choice, she just wants you to settle down as soon as possible.

“Well, I hate small talking too. Just listing things about myself so the other person is updated on you.”

“It’s pretty frustrating,” you huff running your fingers through your hair.

Adam just silently nods before the two of you turn back to the movie even though you are both lost with the plot now.

Because of the drinks you’ve had earlier and the overall stressful day that’s behind you, you fall asleep before the movie could end. When you wake up, you need a couple of moments to adjust to your surroundings. You’ve slid down to the side, right between Adam and the back of the couch, so now you are basically cuddling him, head on his chest as he has an arm around you, passed out, breathing evenly as the TV’s light softly colors his face. His hand feels so big and warm on your arm and at first you don’t even want to move, it feels so nice lying there next to him, but then you come to your senses.

This is Adam, Hannah’s boyfriend and this situation is highly inappropriate. Slowly maneuvering yourself out of his hold you sit up without waking him up. You stare down at him for a few moments before realizing that you are having ridiculous thoughts about this whole scenario.

“Get your shit together, Y/N,” you whisper to yourself as you stand up and grabbing the empty bowl from the coffee table you bring it to the sink and just put it into it, leaving the washing to the morning and then lock yourself up in the bathroom hoping that a hot shower might help you.

It kind of does, though your mind is still racing when you finish and come out. Stopping you see that the TV is now turned off, the bowl is washed and Adam is nowhere to be seen, their room’s door closed. You contemplate knocking on the door to ask if he is alright, but then you talk yourself down, not wanting to worsen your ridiculous state of mind about Adam at the moment, so you just go back to your room and close the door behind you.

Little did you know that Adam was awake when you woke up, he just didn’t want to end the moment. He wanted to hold you, he wanted you to sleep on him, even though his thoughts confused him just as much as yours did to you.

[simsadventures]

After All: Chapter 4: Whatever

Summary: The next day comes and you built the walls around yourself higher than ever. Warnings: angst, tears, sad reader, fluffy Bruce, Bucky (I feel like he is a warning now), mentions of physical abuse

Word Count: 1959

A/N: What do you guys think, should the reader forgive him at some point, or do we want to see a different romance sparking? Let me know, love you all. xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter 

You woke up with the biggest headache you’ve had since high school. Your whole body hurt, and for a second you thought you were abducted and now held prisoner. However, you soon realised that the nightmare you had was no dream at all, but your real-life and that your head hurt probably from the extensive crying you did last night, and your body was stiff from falling asleep in your bathroom.

You needed good 5 minutes to get up, your limbs not listening to your orders at all. When you managed to stand on your own, with just a slight help from the sink, you dared to look in the mirror. And you almost screamed from the shock you received. The reflection in the mirror looked like a completely different person. She wasn’t you. This was a broken person, her make up smudged across her whole face, eyes still red and puffy, but otherwise the shade of the skin was almost greenish. You shouldn’t even be surprised. Nobody was suited to cry as much as you did last night.

Just the thought of what you overheard the night before almost sent you hurdling again, but you stopped yourself. You weren’t about to let them destroy you. Nope. You were stronger than that. You made the mistake of trusting people again, and you were damn sure you wouldn’t ever do it again.

You clenched your tears, tear up the dress that bitch picked for you only to be able to laugh about it behind closed doors with her precious Bucky. You cleaned your face, took a long hot shower, trying to wash away all the sadness left in you. You knew it would take time to get over this, because after a lifetime, you opened up to someone, only to let them rip you open and laugh about the shattered pieces.

But you weren’t willing to let them win. You would bet that they wanted to crumble in front of them, but not if you could help it. Your decision was quick and final. You would just ignore them. You weren’t the type of person to call people out, and even if you wished nothing more than to see them suffer as much as you did, you decided against it.

Karma would bite them both in their asses, you were sure of that.

You texted Tony that you drank a little too much and wasn’t feeling like working on the project today, which he completely understood because he apparently flew around in his Iron Man suit and was showing everyone how many backflips he could do until he threw up in the mask. You were just sorry you weren’t there to see this.

You also exchanged few texts with Bruce who was still baffled why you left so suddenly last night, but you had no energy to explain everything to him. Bucky was his friend, he was part of the team, and you weren’t. You didn’t need people telling you that you destroyed the Avengers by telling Bruce the truth. Not now, anyway.

At the same time, you couldn’t be entirely sure if he wasn’t in it with them. Your mind was screaming at you that Bruce wouldn’t be able to do such a thing to anyone. Still, the same mind was telling you just yesterday that Bucky was definitely into you. You had your reasons not to trust your own judgement right now.

You took a nap in your bed, to relieve your mind from the spiralling, even if only for a few hours.

It was around 6 PM that you heard a familiar light knock on your door. Your heart stopped in that very moment, and you had a lot to do not to vomit again. You pulled yourself together and went to open the door.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky smirked at you, leaning against the door frame. “You ran away last night, I thought you could take more.”

You huffed sardonically, and smirked at him, venom driving from your eyes. “Felt tired, you needed anything or?”

He looked at you, little surprised at your reaction. You were never this direct or unfriendly to him. “Well, it’s our movie night, so I cam here for the movie, you remember?”

Oh right, you even had a weekly movie night, because you thought you both liked spending time in each other’s company. “Not in the mood, Barnes. Goodnight, and greet Hannah for me, will you?” You smiled all too sweetly and closed the door in Bucky’s shocked expression.

“Hannah? Doll, I don’t even talk to Hannah, you know that.”

You didn’t even have the energy to fight with him, so you just laughed dryly and yelled back through the closed door, “whatever, Bucky, whatever.” He didn’t leave right after that, still tried talking to you, but after about 10 minutes, you got tired of his bullshit, telling you to open the door, that he doesn’t understand what’s gotten into you, and blah blah blah. You put on your earphones and watched John Wick without him. You didn’t need him. Hell, you didn’t need anyone.

You didn’t know how long it took for him to leave your door, but you were glad that by the time the movie ended, there was silence outside the door. Hannah sent you multiple messages, to none of which you have replied. She even texted you she was worried about you and you scoffed out loud. Worried my ass, you thought.

Next day came much sooner than you wished to, and it meant you had to go out of your room and face the world. Worst of all, you had an appointment with Bucky, to try some models of his soon-to-be new arm. You didn’t want to be that close to him, but there was no other way to deal with it. You needed to learn to share the same space with him and totally ignore him. That could become your life mission if need be.

You had a polite small talk with one of your colleagues, but not his too extensive or too detailed. She just told you about Tony and his drunk self and how her head hurt even today. You just nodded and smiled lightly, not willing to share anything.

About an hour later, the door opened, and Bucky came marching to you. “What the hell, doll? I was knocking on your door last night and you-“

You stopped him with a raised hand. “I wasn’t in the mood, and I’m not in the mood now. I have Dr Cho here to help me with your current arm, to make it as painless for you as possible, and so that we could safely try your new model. Can we start?” Your face was void of any emotion. You could see Bucky searching your face, trying to find a hint, anything that would tell him why the sudden change in your behaviour.

“Doll, I-“ he started again, but you weren’t having it. “Can we start now, Bucky?” you raised your voice a little so that he got the message you weren’t willing to talk about anything else that your job. He just nodded wordlessly and let you and Dr Cho do your job.

He was watching you intently the whole time, speaking up only when asked, and you made a little victory dance in your head. Maybe he’d actually stop talking to you, and your ignoring him wouldn’t be that difficult. This happiness, however, didn’t last long, because as soon as you were done, and sent him on his way, he grasped your upper arm, and whisper yelled at you, “mind if we talk, Y/N?”

You just clenched your teeth and nodded, you really didn’t need to cause a scene at work. You weren’t about to let him destroy the one thing that actually made you happy and feel like you could be yourself. When obviously, being yourself wasn’t enough for him, nor for Hannah.

“Care to explain why have you been acting so weird since the party?” He was seething, and all you could do was laugh. He really wanted YOU to explain yourself to HIM, hilarious.

“Look, we can stop pretending now, Bucky. Go your own way, I’ll go mine and the only place we will see each other will be here, and we’ll keep it strictly professional, ok?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? How can you go from us being that close to strictly professional, huh? What happened? Did someone tell you something? Because if so, I’m 99% sure they’re lying.”

Now you had to laugh out loud. “Oh, don’t worry, nobody told me anything. I didn’t want to do this, because I couldn’t care less right now but ok. Let’s do this. What the fuck am I talking about? I don’t know, Bucky, let’s ask your girlfriend Hannah, what the hell I’m all about.”

“I told you, I don’t even-“

“At least have the fucking decency and don’t lie to my fucking face, Barnes. I saw and heard everything, ok? I mean, why would someone like YOU be interested in someone like ME. I’m just a hideous lab rat, and you wouldn’t be caught dead actually seen with me.”

You were seething, venom dripping from your mouth. Bucky was staring back at you, horrified. “Doll, I-“

“Please, don’t. I got it, ok? She’s gorgeous, I’m not, I know that much, I’m not stupid. I just thought you could see past that, from how much time we spent together. I told you everything, Bucky, my secrets, my fears, all of it. I hope you two had a good laugh at all that, how a desperate, ugly girl fears someone will notice she’s just not enough. That must have made you snicker for days, huh? Or the fact that my own father beat the shit out of me when I was younger must have been a hilarious topic after you fucked her!”

You didn’t want to resort to violence, but your hand itched to slap him across his face.

“Look, Y/N, I would never-“

“I don’t care, Bucky, I really don’t. I hope you had a good time making the ugly girl feel worse about herself than she did in a long time. I’m not gonna be the entertainment for you and Hannah anymore, I was stupid enough to think that for once in my life, I would be important to someone, that just this once, I was the lucky one.

But it’s ok, I got this, just like I always had. So go, and enjoy your miserable life, because you can’t be happy if you’re able to do something like this to an innocent bystander. Just please, whatever your sick games, or foreplays, or whatever this is, are, stop it. I’m an actual real-life person, with genuine feelings, I’m not sure the two of you realise. I’m going to be ok without you, but some other girl might not, so please, end this, and find some other thing to rile each other up.

Have a good life, Barnes, I really wish for you to wake up one day, and try and redeem yourself, because you might be a hero out there, in the world, but here? You are just one rotten, sad guy, who doesn’t have a bit of respect for himself or anyone around you. Goodbye.”

Few tears slipped by now, but you didn’t care. You were proud of yourself for telling him all that, turned on your heel and went back to the lab.

Bucky was left in a hallway, staring at the door, through which you left, suddenly realising how big of a mistake he just did. And he wasn’t sure if there was any going back.

/ Next Chapter >

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[tsarinastorm]

AA: Ashes to Ashes-Adam Sackler/Reader-Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Adam listens, or attempts to listen to the current man in the front of the room talking about his battle with gambling addiction and alcoholism. But paying attention is difficult for Adam at the moment because Y/N is sitting beside him, looking perfect, and the smell of her perfume is enough to disorient him. Today she smells like roses, jasmine, and coffee. They’ve hung out a couple times, mostly over coffee, and talked as friends do. Adam found it comforting knowing that he had someone he could talk to, rant to, and spend time with. Of course, Adam never had many friends before, but he assumes those are the hallmarks of friendship. It would much easier if he didn’t want to be more than friends with Y/N, he had to constantly remind himself not to cross that line with her. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

           His struggle is made worse by the fact that Jessa is sitting on his other side, watching him squirm out of the corner of her eye. Since he’s been hanging out with Y/N and developed feelings for her, he’s thought about ending things with Jessa but he knows there’s a chance that Y/N won’t want anything to do with him anymore if he does that. She might take Jessa’s side. He thinks if he lets Jessa be the one to end it, it may be better for his chances with Y/N or he considers waiting until he knows that Y/N has feelings for him too. In the meantime, things will remain same.

           The man finishes talking, and everyone claps for him, including Jessa and Y/N. After the meeting, Y/N and Jessa go the restroom, together, as women normally do, and he goes over the snack table. He scoops some cookies, racing towards the ones he knows are Y/N’s favorites before they’re all taken. As Jessa and Y/N walk up to him, a man stops Y/N and tells her how he was inspired by what she had said at the last meeting. This man keeps touching Y/N’s arm and Adam can’t help but glare, then he finally interrupts them to hand her the cookies.

           “Here, I got these for you,” he tells her and the man waves then briskly leaves. Y/N takes the cookies and says, “Thanks, these are my favorites, and I think he’s getting way too attached to me.”

           “Oh yes you will have a sober buddy for life,” Adam says back and wants to kick himself for sounding lame. Y/N takes a bite of the cookie and tells him, “I can’t believe you don’t cookies or sweets, you’re like a tall alien.”

           “Yes he is. It looks like I’ve found someone else to pawn Bill off on.” Jessa chuckles talking about both Adam and the other man, and she jokingly bumps into Y/N. They keep chatting for some time, then when they walk out of the building, Y/N hugs Jessa then heads the other way. Adam is disappointed that he didn’t get to talk to her more, he must have been looking sad because Jessa questions him, “You do know that doesn’t bother me?”

           “What doesn’t bother you?” He asks because he’s not sure he’s understanding Jessa correctly. She watches Y/N walk away and holds his hand before answering, “You hanging out with her. It’s good for you. You need a friend.”

           “Thanks,” he says and gives her a slight smile, then they walk back to the apartment as Jessa chatters away but his mind is elsewhere.

*********

           Adam waits outside the building, knowing that Y/N will walk out soon. She told him to meet here before they hang out. Apparently she volunteers once a week here and it makes Adam feel like an asshole who doesn’t care about other people. Y/N walks out and Adam greets her.

           “Hey, kid.” He makes a mental note to come up with a different nickname for her. She smiles and joins him. Before they make it down the block she stops to say, “I’ve got to stop at my place to take my dog for a walk if you don’t mind.”

           He actually likes dogs and has wanted one of his own for a while, though preferably one that would work better than the one he had for a few days before he and Ray had to take him back to his owner. He can’t hide his excitement, “I like dogs, I really like dogs.”

           Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear laughing at his response and they keep walking to her place. Adam is surprised to learn that she lives in Nolita, close to where Jessa used to live with Shoshanna. That must have been how they met. When they reach the apartment door, she warns him, “Bagel is still anxious around men. He’s not aggressive or anything, just timid. It might take him a while to warm up to you.”

           “Okay, I’ll give him space then,” Adam answers, thinking what the fuck kind of name is Bagel, and as soon as they walk through the door, Adam notices the apartment looks just like he expected it to be. It was very much like Y/N: classy, refined, and a bit eclectic. Books everywhere, comfy couch, candles, and a messy desk. Y/N goes over to the crate to let ‘Bagel’ out, though Adam thought the dog couldn’t have had a more wrong name. Bagel was an Australian shepherd mix who was rather large and had a dark tri-colored, speckled coat, and two different colored eyes. Bagel looks at Adam suspiciously, then follows Y/N back into the apartment kitchen. Y/N comes back with a leash, hooks Bagel up and they leave, though Adam still feels that Bagel is giving the side eye.

           They spend a half-hour or so walking around the neighborhood, then they get to a park. After they’ve walked and played which Adam actually enjoyed, Y/N excitedly says, “Oh there’s an ice cream truck, we have to get ice cream!”

           “Ick, I don’t like ice cream. It tastes like sweet mucous.” Adam says and tries to hide his disgust. He could suffer through ice cream for her. She doesn’t miss a beat, and isn’t the least bit dismayed by his commentary because she adds, “Good, because I was talking to Bagel anyway.”

           He goes with her and she gets two ice cream cones. She’s struggling to eat hers and feed Bagel his at the same time. Adam takes the one that’s meant for Bagel out of her hand and says, “I’ve got it.”

           Bagel is hesitant at first then he forgets everything but the ice cream. Y/N smiles watching both of them, and Adam chuckles back watching the dog chow down on what’s left of the cone. Once the ice cream is gone, when they sit down, Bagel is jumping up on Adam, wagging his tail and wanting attention.

           “You know I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone like that, especially not a guy.” Y/N says as she works on finishing her cone. Adam says, “The ice cream helped.”

           “Are you sure you don’t want a bite?” She teases and offers him her cone. He thinks for a second before taking a lick, then a bite, and somehow it’s more sensual than it should be. He has to think depressing thoughts to keep himself from getting hard. Y/N surely feels it too because her eyes stay locked on his and the tension between them could be cut with a knife. Just as suddenly as the moment happens it ends as Y/N jerks her head away and re-focuses her sight on something else.

           She changes the subject by asking him if he ever considered getting his own pet. Truthfully he has, then he’s talked himself out of it. “Yeah but I’m not sure if I’m good at long-term responsibility.” He skirts around the issue.

           “You could try getting a succulent.” She says and her eyes light up at the possibility. Meanwhile, Adam is sidetracked by what she said so he asks, “What the fuck is a succulent?”

           She laughs for a long time before she explains, “It’s basically the cactus family. You know they don’t need much attention. You could try it, and if it works you could work up to a goldfish.”

“One time I went to Coney Island with Jessa, I won a goldfish and it died before I got it home. I think I shook the bag too much” He tells her, she chuckles again as they start walking back to whatever the next adventure is. She tells him, “So maybe try a few plants first then.”

           “I had a goldfish when I was a kid, my sister flushed it to free it or whatever.” He says and the memory still stings. Y/N watches his reaction before saying, “I understand her point but that’s rough. Especially with you being a kid. Was she always like that?”

           “Yeah, that’s Caroline. She’s chaotic. One time, when Hannah was trying to mediate between us, she actually had the audacity to suggest that I had repressed sexual feelings or some bullshit for her… that’s what she’s like.” Adam finds himself confessing his life story and all of his family issues in one go with Y/N. She listens to him contently, sometimes chiming in with her own family drama.

“Damn, that’s fucked up. For what’s worth, you don’t seem like that type. That’s something that shouldn’t ever be brought up” Y/N says, trying to comfort him, but Adam finds himself apologizing instead, “Sorry to dump all that shit on you.”

           “It’s what friends are for. And, everyone has family issues. Everyone’s family fucks them up in some way.” She says, and Adam’s glad to have her as a friend. Even if he wants more.

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

           It was a smothery day in New York, the concrete only made the heat intensified. It was like one of Dante’s rings of hell. You were already wearing a cropped tank top, and linen short-shorts with your hair up. Jessa was wearing a bikini top and shorts, while Adam was wearing a sleeveless shirt and athletic shorts. The three of you were trying to go to a pool, or get down by the water, but it was too crowded. The crowd just made it more miserable. When you walk past a display, you’re drawn to the headline. Apparently, the local theater group is putting on Antigone, one of your favorite plays. You’re too entranced by the flyer to notice that Jessa and Adam have come up beside you.

           “You, okay? You just zoned out.” Jessa asks and looks at the flyer. You respond, “Yeah, it’s just one of my favorite plays, I’ll try to make it.”

           “Antigone is a classic.” Adam adds. Then Jessa gestures between you and Adam, then declares, “You two should go together. It’s not really my thing so I’ll sit it out.”

           “Do you really wanna go?” Adam asks you after he eyes Jessa suspiciously. You know you must look just as stunned as he does. You liked spending time with Adam, the two have developed your own friendship, but you somehow felt like you crossing a line. After all, he’s your friend’s boyfriend. The same friend who’s now pushing you to hang out with said boyfriend. It was made worse by the growing crush you had on Adam, in fact, the crush was hardly a crush anymore, and it was more like real attraction. But you weren’t that girl you reminded yourself.

           “Yeah I do, but you don’t have to go with me.” You say, giving him an opportunity to opt out, also giving Jessa a chance to rethink her offer. Neither of them do. Adam runs his hands through his hair then says, “No, I’ll go. It will be fun.” So much for trying to distance yourself, or being worried about over-stepping your place.

******

           Tonight you were going to see Antigone with Adam at one of the theaters near his neighborhood. You were both excited and nervous. You enjoyed spending time with him, and wanted to get know more about him, but you knew the more time you were with, the more you’d fall for him. Also, you didn’t want to seem like the girl who took their friend���s boyfriend. You were wearing a strapless jumpsuit that was airy but didn’t look too casual. Adam knocks at your door, and as soon as you let him in, Bagel runs to him. You still can’t believe how fast he took to Adam, and it makes you think about the saying about dogs judging character.

           “Hey, I’ll be ready in just a minute. Do you want something to drink? Non-alcoholic of course.” You say. Adam sits on the couch, Bagel joins him with his tail happily wagging. Adam then answers with, “Can I have a glass of milk?”

           “Sure.” You were glad that this was a time when you actually had milk in your kitchen. It was honestly the first time a guest wanted a glass, you take the glass to him, and he swallows it loudly. After you’ve put the finishing touches on your look, you tell him you’re ready. He looks you up and down then tells you, “Y/N you look hot…”

           “Thanks,” you blush, you’re totally unprepared for his next comment. But you had been around him enough you should have expected it by now. You knew he had a filthy mouth, and was open about those kind of things.

“You trying to get fucked tonight?” You struggle to find a good comeback at first, you eventually settle on, “No, that’s none of your business anyway. But what if I am?”

           Before he has a chance to comment back and make you more flustered than you already are, you open the door, motioning for him to walk out. You then put Bagel in his crate and join Adam to head on your way to the theater. It was going to be a long, and potentially frustrating night, judging by how bothered you are.

           You and Adam are walking back from the play, chattering about how great the performance was, when you feel something fly in your hair. You try to act cool and get it out, then whatever it is just gets more stuck. Adam at first laughs at your struggle, then his hand is on yours, trying to work whatever it is out of your hair. You notice it’s some kind of bug and you screech.

“Calm down, tiger.” He says and you stand still while he frees whatever creature is trapped in your hair. He brushes your hair behind your ear and your eyes lock onto his. It’s incredibly simple yet intimate and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him but you know you can’t.

“Did you just call me tiger?” you ask to distract from the sexual tension that’s growing between you. You also never really had any nicknames either so the fact that Adam came up with one for you made you happy.

“Yep, you’re always wear that tiger’s eye thing bracelet.” He says as he backs away to give you space again. His finger reaches for the bracelet, barely tracing the skin of your wrist, and now that’s the only thing you can think about. You force your thoughts back to the bracelet: you’ve had it for a few years and you wear it daily.

“You noticed?” Adam nods his head in response. You then fidget with the bracelet, your hand brushing against his, and tell him, “It’s supposed to bring good fortune, invoke the divine, and offer protection.”

“Has it actually done any of those things?” He asks, and you notice how close his face is to yours. You can feel his breath on your cheek, count every freckle on his face, and you can’t help but notice that his eyes resemble the color of the tiger’s eye.

“I think it has.” The two of you then continue on your way, both avoiding eye contact and putting a few feet between you. It wasn’t as if you had crossed the line, but you were certainly dancing around it.

                                   ********

Adam came back to the apartment after a particularly bad day on set, and it already seems that Jessa is in some kind mood. She’s waiting on the couch, her posture tense, so he breezes by her to get to the kitchen. As he pours himself a glass of milk, Jessa pounces. Her mouth latches on to his neck while her hand reaches for his dick. He’s caught so off-guard that he moves away, and that was clearly the wrong response. He’s always pissing her off anymore anyway. Adam’s starting to think that Jessa’s waiting for him to fuck up in some way that she can use a pretext for an argument.

“What the hell is going on with you? We barely talk, we hardly fuck anymore, and you totally moved away from me!” Jessa shouts at him. He knows he’s been zoned out, but he’s busy with his career and his relationship with Jessa is becoming a burden. Was there any easy way to tell her that the relationship felt like an unnecessary strain on him, or that he’s falling for her friend? He decides not to, and he answers back with, “I’m busy, I’m fucking stressed when I come home. Then as soon as I come home, you wait for me to do something then pounce!”

“It’s like you don’t even notice me anymore!” Jessa screams back at him, and he’s tuning her out. Same old, same old. How he doesn’t listen to her, pay attention to her, or fuck her like he used to. As he continues with his glass of milk, no longer arguing back with her, she disappears into the bedroom. She soon comes back out with a bag and tells him, “I’m leaving for a while, if you fucking care at all!”

*****

           The desk in your apartment is full of paper work, you can hardly see your laptop, and you finally removed the coffee mug and glass of water from the danger zone. Bagel watches you apprehensively from the couch as you get up to stretch a bit. You have to finish this draft then you’re going to an art gallery and out with some friends. You’re not able to go out like you used to since you have to remain sober, but you still need to de-stress. You’re suddenly alerted by the buzz in your apartment.

           The person on the other side is Jessa, asking if she can come in. Once inside, she crashes on your couch like it’s hers and Bagel seems unbothered by her.

           “What’s up?” You rummage on your desk, even more conscious about the fact that it’s a disaster now that someone’s here. As she grabs your Roku remote she tells you, “Adam and I had a fight again. It’s like he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

           “I’m sorry that sucks. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. I’m going to be working then going out.” You get back to working on your draft, while Jessa tells you about her fight with Adam, asking for your thoughts. Talking actually helps you work sometime because silence allows your mind to wander.

After you complete the draft, you hop in the shower, and sit at your vanity doing your hair and makeup. Jessa is perched on your bed, chatting away as you tell her about your friends and she tells you about hers. The one she talks about the most is Hannah, you don’t even know Hannah but you’re exhausted and irritated by her.

“Are you worried about going out tonight? Being around alcohol again?” Jessa asks and you answer honestly.

“I’m nervous about it but as long as I don’t drink anything, I’ll be fine. The long-term goal is to be able to socially drink again.”

“Sobriety sucks. It’s definitely the harder path.” She shares the sentiment, then someone else is buzzing in. None of your friends are supposed to coming here, you’re all supposed to meet up somewhere, and you have no online shopping packages coming today.

It’s Adam, shit, you think. Jessa and Adam, who are fighting in your apartment, this was going to be interesting. Adam strolls in like he owns the place then is stunned when he sees Jessa standing there.

“What are you doing here?” he asks her and she asks him the same thing.

“I’m here visiting my friend, what’s your excuse?” She says combatively, crossing her arms.

“Both of you need to talk about your problems.” You say and hope they’ll try to listen. You really need to get going.

“Okay, well Adam doesn’t seem to care about me at all anymore.” Jessa says and you decide to keep playing mediator.  Calmly you place yourself in the middle of them “Thanks for sharing your feelings, Jessa. Adam, what do you need to talk about?”

“I’m busy and I don’t want to talk all the time, sorry I take my damn job seriously!” He shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

“Okay, well I tried. I need to get going, so don’t trash the place and lock up when you leave.” You say as you quickly head towards the door, you’re already ten minutes. You seriously wondered what Adam was doing with Jessa, and what the two of them were doing holding to their relationship that was pretty clearly a disaster. You could really use a drink right now.

[love-fireflysong]

Day 20: Dare

Fandom: Until Dawn Character(s): Beth Washington, Josh Washington, Hannah Washington Words: 1728 Rating: General (minor language, plans to poison your best friends and yourself!) Author’s Notes: Super late holy shit. But it’s fine. Have some cookies. Just don’t take any from Josh...

This fic is not sponsored by Dare Cookies. Honestly, that’s probably a good thing.

When Beth walked into the kitchen that morning, to say that she had not expected the sight before her would not be a lie. There were many things she anticipated seeing when walking into her kitchen, Josh covered head to toe in white powder was not one of them. Well, that was a lie actually. Truthfully, Josh was exactly the type of person she could see running a secret coke lab, just not from the family kitchen. At least, she really hoped not. Reporting her brother for running a cocaine lab in the middle of their kitchen was not what she intended to start her day with.

“Are you, are you covered in flour?”

While Josh didn’t move from where he was standing at the counter, he did look over his shoulder at her affronted. “Um excuse me. This is cornstarch, not flour. Learn the difference Beth, god.” He gave a disdainful sniff, and then proceeded to sneeze violently into his arm.

Beth rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Cornstarch. Why in the world are you covered in cornstarch then.”

“Making cookies.”

Beth just stopped to stare at her brother with narrowed eyes, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find some form of words, only to groan and rub at a spot between her eyes. Words were quite literally failing her right now, and she didn’t even know where to start.

“Hey Beth, what’s taking so long—why is Josh covered in flour?”

Beth turned to see Hannah behind her, who stopped to stare at Josh in turn. Before she could figure out how to even start answering her question, Josh had butted in with exasperation. “It’s cornstarch, people! God, does no one in this house know what basic fucking baking supplies look like?”

Beth ignored Josh, an easy feat when he’s been part of their everyday lives since before they could talk, and gave her twin a flat, unimpressed look. “He’s making cookies. Apparently.”

Hannah’s forehead creased in confusion. “But, cookies don’t need cornstarch...”

Beth nodded slowly in agreement, her next words coming out as a tired sigh. “They also don’t need soy sauce, mustard, and mayo, and yet, here we are.”

True to her words, surrounding Josh on all available surfaces were bags upon bags filled to the brim with numerous bottles of soy sauce, mayonnaise, and two(!) kinds of mustard. All of this was ignoring the dozen boxes of cookies scattered around the kitchen and the roughly four bags filled with cornstarch alone. There were questions out there that Beth never wanted the answers too, and this right here was roughly seven of them.

Unfortunately for her, Hannah didn’t share the same thoughts. “Do I want to know what kind of cookies you’re making?”

“No, no you don’t. I don’t want to know. Neither of us want to know. So let’s just grab our shit from the fridge and get back upstairs where it’s safe.”

Josh ignored Beth just as easily as she did him earlier, instead reaching over to grab one of the bottles of soy sauce and proceeded to dump almost the entirety of it into what she hoped was a bowl. A bowl of what, she didn’t want to know. “Special cookies, Han. For three very special people.”

“...if those cookies are for us, I will end you here and now Josh, don’t think I won’t.”

Josh snorted as he lifted his whisk to inspect the consistency of his soy sauce/cornstarch concoction. “Oh please Beth. We both know that you could probably snap me like I twig.” He grimaced for a second, seemingly unhappy with the thickness, and added some more cornstarch. He coughed at the rising cloud of white that erupted from the bowl. “Nah, these are for me, Chris, and Ash later.”

“Alright. Gonna be honest here. Was not expecting to have to call the police because there was a murder-suicide pact tonight.”

“Sad thing is, probably the least exciting call they’ll ever have coming from our house.” Hannah gave a long-suffering sigh as she reached for one of the empty boxes of cookies on the table nearby, this one Ultimate Maple Creme.  “Is there a reason you bought like, a million boxes of four different flavours of cookies?”

Josh shrugged nonchalantly at the question, and reinspected his brown sludge. Happy now with the results, Beth and Hannah watched him reach of a plate of what they recognized to be the cookie halves of the Ultimate Fudge Chocolate. “We’re playing truth or dare tonight.”

Hannah held up the empty box of Dare brand cookies higher. “I don’t think that when people play truth or dare, they mean the cookie brand.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because you don’t share my brilliance. See, this is how we can tell that I was the only one who got any imagination in this family.” Josh started to carefully take his thick sludge and began to ice the cookies with them.

Hannah was a little more hesitant with her next question. “What exactly are you doing to all these cookies anyways?” Once again, not a question Beth wanted the answer to.

This time, Josh did fully turn to face the two of them, and oh boy was he a sight. He was almost completely covered in cornstarch with random flecks of soy sauce and mustard covering his hands and the apron he had probably stolen from the home-ec room at school. In one arm was a bowl filled with what Beth assumed to be the unholy amalgamation of soy sauce and cornstarch and the other held the whisk, covered in said mixture. The large, maniacal grin on his face and insane look in his eyes was enough to complete the image that their brother had officially snapped. “Oh, am I glad you asked, Han! You see, this is where my brilliance comes into play! I am slowly and painstakingly replacing the creme in every single one of these cookies with my own!” He waved the whisk wildly and Beth backed up to hopefully avoid the spray of brown, but it was thick enough that nothing actually flew thankfully.

Beth hated herself for the words coming out of her mouth, but they were out into the world before she knew it. “And what kind of cream is that?”

Josh changed the tone of his voice so resembled that of a teacher giving a lecture. “It changes for every cookie of course, but they all start with the same cornstarch/water base as a thickener. From there, it all changes! For the maple, I add some dijon mustard for color. Chocolate gets soy sauce. Lemon, just a smidgen of regular mustard.” Josh turned back to the row of chocolate cookies on the counter. “And the coconut gets mayo, simply because an icing of just cornstarch is boring and I am not all about that life.”

“Kind of making it sound that your not all about life in general right now.”

Josh didn’t give much of an answer other than a shrug. “That’s because you don’t understand my genius.”

“Evil genius more like.”

“Is there any better?”

God help her, but Hannah moved closer to watch over Josh’s shoulder as he continued to ice the cookies. “And what are you doing with the normal fillings?”

Without looking, Josh pointed towards a couple of containers to the left of him. “Failures and fillings are over there if you want them.”

Beth was definitely more then a little hesitant when she looked in the bowl of ‘failures’. Only to sigh in relief at the sight of what was just a bowl of broken cookies that Josh hadn’t managed to separate properly. Which wasn’t a surprise. These weren’t exactly Oreo’s he was dealing with, so it was probably harder to split these without one or both sides of the cookie shattering. The other container was just filled with maple and chocolate creme centers as he promised. She reached into the first bowl and picked out a maple one that was missing about a third of the cookie on top, popping it into her mouth as she handed Hannah a similar chocolate one.

“Surprised that these are even here. Thought you would have eaten every single mistake.”

The look that Josh gave her was so unimpressed that she almost choked on the cookie in surprise. “Beth. I have been at this for literally hours. Trust me, I got sick of these things like two hours ago. There were so many mistakes.”

Hannah stuck her hand in a bowl to grab another broken chocolate fudge, but carefully added some of the discarded maple creme on top. “So how exactly is this game supposed to work? Whenever someone picks dare they have to eat a cookie?”

Josh shook his head in clear disappointment as he gestured at himself. “Oh Hannah. Hannah, Hannah, Hannah. Once again, only one who has any imagination, right here.” He returned back to his tray of cookies, carefully placing the other half back on top of the soy sauce creme, cleaning up any that leaked over the edge as he did so. “Of course not. It’s very simple really. Someone picks either truth or dare, and the person asking asks their question or gives their demand. The fun comes in refusing! If anyone refuses to either answer the truth or do the dare, then they have to eat a cookie as repentance.”

Beth watched Josh put the tray of now completed ‘chocolate fudge’ cookies into the fridge to harden as she ate a piece of maple creme from the bowl. She noticed that there was already a couple of other trays in the fridge and made a note to warn Sam not to touch a single cookie when she came over later in the afternoon. “And are Chris and Ashley aware that there are going to be cookies?”

“Nope.”

She sighed. “Are they even aware that they’re gonna be playing truth or dare tonight?”

“Nope.” 

The pop of the p was so self-satisfied that Beth turned to look at Hannah, but saw that she was already on her phone before she could open her mouth.

“Already putting Poison Control on speed dial.”

“Probably a good idea honestly.” Josh didn’t even pause from grabbing the four boxes of lemon creme’s, another four containers of cornstarch, and two bottles of regular mustard as he replied.

[bapydemonprincess]

Can you tell us more about reaper ambrose? (I am sorry if the question isn't specific I am bad with asking questions)

AWW YOU!! QwQ Thank you so much for asking! 💖💖💖💖 I love my poor tragic boy!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: Descriptions of a character committing suicide.

I got very very curious early on about Ambrose getting so desperate to get supernatural powers he’d try becoming a reaper. I held off for a long time due to my focus being on I guess.. “canon Ambrose” getting a demon of his own as a boyfriend eventually! And I do love love LOVE those two SO much!! 🖤🖤🖤 But my mind still kept wandering back to this concept, and I just didn’t know HOW it would happen... I can’t remember when or what triggered the idea, but mainly I knew the biggest issue Ambrose had to prevent him from trying THIS out was his mother being capable of uncovering what the fuck he was doing the second he’d dare anything... So he’d need something to keep Sebastian from REACHING him.

Once he was full on in the mindset, and determined to get this done, Ambrose came across a nearby town... where a very old church was. Every day he’d come around, hovering, seeing the times it was in service, seeing how many went to it, and when they all left...

Finally, in a very quiet part of the night, sometime past 3, Ambrose slipped into that church himself, along with what he knew would be the best way. Fast, if done right. And Ambrose had certainly studied for a while on how to do everything right. 

He even set some wards down too around the area. Much less obvious than the church itself such a salt, and sage and thyme plants. As well as a few drawn runes he knew to be useful and real, from some tomes he’d been given by his dear aunt Hannah.

He then set up a chair, and started tackling the rope he would be using.

He knew there were many possibilities of this failing, as he assumed such tactics always had a 50% chance of going wrong, at least. But... he had to try. This was his only chance.

As he tightened the rope firmly around his neck, Ambrose took his last deep breaths, before stepping off the chair and letting gravity do its job.

It indeed worked fast. Faster than even he would expect from such a tactic. But as he lost the ability to properly breathe, felt everything go black, and nothingness embrace him just like when one suddenly falls asleep, his last thought was likely a muddy brief comment like “finally.”

Of course, this lead to a strange scene the next morning, of a man in a black suit pacing and hovering around the church, looking increasingly disgruntled. No one had ever seen this man around here before...

The priest came out, to address him.

“May I help you sir?”

“Yes, I know this may seem out of the blue, but please.. check your attic.” The man seemed to stand tense and yet vibrating with some held back emotion, deep chocolate eyes looking watery as well. His chest rose and fell frantically.

The priest, of course, stood there a few seconds, confused. But having a feeling deep down that this was not a matter to be taken lightly.

“Alright, I’ll go see. Please wait here.” The man responded finally, hand held up, as if instinctively trying to sooth though he had no idea why. Not yet.

Within the next half hour, the small town old church became a very riotous location, as a young man was found, having hung himself in the church attic, and surrounded for some reason by salt and plants. The body was brought down, and the people inside went into an uproar, but the priest did not stop to put the poor young man’s body somewhere inside, he dutifully and almost mechanically walked back out, coming back out to the man in the black suit, who automatically erupted with sobs and shot forward to take up the boy’s body.

The priest then noticed another new person nearby. A man who distinctly looked Eastern Indian, and clearly had a connection with the other man. He rushed forward as well, to embrace the other, tears also already streaming down his face.

Despite their emotional state, the taller man looked to the priest, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he choked out, “thank you for finding him.”

The priest then automatically offered them help in getting him to a hospital, but they denied, trying to get away from the scene as fast as possible. The priest was left with many confused, concerned and hysterical church goers, and could only stand there, briefly pray that the couple got through their grief safely, and tried to go back to his audience to calm everyone.

Over the next weeks the Michaelis family was quite hysterical, specifically Sebastian and Aarushi themselves, becoming unstable and trying to find some way to get Ambrose back. Sebastian, of course, being so stubborn and well.. block headed that he tried going to the reaper realm himself.

Of course this lead to Miss Grelle Sutcliff rescuing his dumb ass from getting skewered by death scythes.

But the bleak madness didn’t end there. Sebastian resorted to requesting Hannah, the powerful matriarch demoness and Grelle herself to doing whatever they could to get in contact with Ambrose, to find SOME way, even if he was now permanently a reaper, to get him back home.

Hannah... refused. She tried calmly explaining to Sebastian that it was out of everyone’s hands, including hers. If Ambrose chose this, then it was up to him on what he did next. He was a full grown adult now technically after all.

And as much as Grelle did seem level headed too about this, deep down she was in fact rather upset, and that feeling came out over the next few days as the reaper went to work herself and really got to see how things were on that side.

Ambrose was being handled like any other new recruit. At least it seemed like it. However, as many many reapers now knew of the famous demon from England Sebastian Michaelis, and somehow word had gotten out at some point that this was his son, the level of normalcy handling this particular new recruit was quickly lowered to vague stink eyes and thin lips, others keeping their distance as if this young man would lash out.

And of course, the older reapers like Mr. Spears were not really helping, considering he certainly had no soft spot for that demon nor any offspring of his.

Eventually, with Ronald Knox’s help, Grelle managed to get a moment alone with the familiar gloomy boy.

They had never been as close as Ambrose had been to Grelle’s wife; “Aunt Hannah”. But as Ambrose grew up, his maturity showed as he had learned to show her respect, seeming to.. understand where she came from with her own mental issues and suffering. Not to mention on occasion the two had gotten into fun little battles. Chainsaw vs rapier. It helped the youth get out the extra bit of aggression and anger he’d had no where else to put.

But this little reunion only ended up being a shouting match, as well as almost getting a bit too physical as Grelle found herself grabbing the boy by his crisp new white shirt lapels and asking him basically if he knew “how much he’d just screwed himself over.” And also “how dare he do this to his family, his older sibling precious Aarushi, his poor sweet dad Agni, and his long suffering mother Sebastian!”

This only ended with Ambrose locking up, face going neutral, newly emerald eyes going dull.

He wouldn’t take this, even if it was from his “Aunt”.

....

Time goes by. I really am not sure what kind of scythe to give Ambrose eventually, I feel that will be like the LAST thing I figure out as its one of the most difficult orz;;; As well as, on a lesser scale, his glasses. But I assume they’d just be basic black rectangle ones. A bit on the thin side.

And then eventually he gets picked on for his long-- and now getting messy from not being taken care of --white hair. Some are horrible insults, some warnings that are pretty valid about going out and reaping souls and making sure his hair isn’t in the way.

Eventually Ambrose resigns to wearing it up in a basic hair band. Nothing really special. He just.. doesn’t care.

He hasn’t been getting sleep. Which reapers apparently still need, and yet some tell him its pretty normal. Eventually he’ll learn to adapt. But for now, there are dark bags under his eyes...seeming permanently situated.

Finally, after what seems like a full year of this reaper business, Ambrose has another visitor.

His mind whirs with who. A human he knows like his dad somehow coming over? HE BETTER NOT BE A REAPER TOO. Or... or mum... No, he knows mum already tried. He KNOWS mum would fail every time, either by getting skewered by scythes or dragged away by someone who cares about the demon actually living.

It turns out to be Hannah.

And Ambrose... doesn’t know what to think. The first possible thing is.. is... HOW?? But then he remembers: VERY POWERFUL OLD MATRIARCH DEMON, so maybe it isn’t so strange for certain highly ranked demons to contact grim reapers???

But now the familiar voice of his aunt his speaking, addressing him in that quiet, deep voice he hasn’t heard in Gods know how long...

And the surge of emotional turmoil finally rears its ugly head, after so long being docile. He wants to break down sobbing. But there is a part of him fighting frantically to keep a serious, empty face on.

But then he sees. He finally notices...

Hannah Annafellows is crying.

Tears stream down her dark skin while she still smiles welcomingly to him. But her lips are trembling, and now he notices her hands in front of her, clasped together, are shaking as well. She is still in control, but also letting her sorrow and happiness show.

"I didn't think it was as terrible as Grelle made it out to be, and yet..." She chokes out, and then bites back from saying any more for a moment.

Ambrose wonders if.. she means the situation in general.. or his appearance, or...

“You.. You are so burdened with sadness. So much heavy sadness it covers you like a casing. And you are clearly torn up. And... and... oh, my little corvus...” She gets out, and her head slowly shakes a bit.

And now Ambrose is shattering. Why.. why does she have to explain? Why does she have to--

“You are trying...even now.. to hold on. I know this. But... you feel... deep down as if you’ve made a horrible mistake.”

Hannah’s voice went rapidly to a whisper at this. A fast, frantic whisper. As if she only had so much time now to get this out.

“And indeed, it is something irreversible, Ambrose. No power on Earth, nor any other realm can truly reverse death. Many have tried. For millions of years many have tried to. And keep trying to. I know this.”

Ambrose’s mouth started to part, but his aunt continued.

“But it was not a mistake you have made, Ambrose.... It will never be a mistake.”

The boy’s eyes widened, as Hannah shook her head again, and still smiled.

“It was simply an action you felt you needed to take at the time.... That is all. It was human nature. It always has been. And never a mistake. Not by someone like you, little one. Never someone like--”

“S-STOP IT! STOP IT HANNAH!” The boy suddenly screams. Then, quieter, with a cracked tone. “Stop... please.. stop.”

And now he’s just standing there, wiping tears and snot from his face after taking off his glasses, on the back of his jacket sleeve.

Hannah quietly steps closer then. Closer, and closer, as the boy hunches in...

And finally encircles him in her arms.

Hannah continues weeping too. They both do. While she practically tries to hold him as close as she can, without full on scooping him up like a babe once more. She rocks though. Rocking them both in place while she speaks soothing things now in demon. Her voice slower, and calmer. And her tone gentle and musical with the language of Hell that Ambrose knows himself so well...

He grew up with this. Many times he had to be soothed by songs and gentle words. Not only by Hannah, but...

Another sob wracks the boy.

He misses Mum. He misses mum. He can’t see mum. He CAN’T. But he misses mum...

He’s mumbling this outloud, brokenly.

....

Eventually things do calm. Eventually they can sit and talk lightly a bit.

And eventually Hannah also decided to grab a brush from thin air and brush the boy’s unruly long hair....

It’s a bit out of the blue... but it is another soothing act.

And when Hannah seems satisfied, instead of letting the boy return the simple hair band to it, she produces a pure black ribbon from thin air, and ties up his hair in that. 

I got the idea for that with this picrew letting me put Ambrose’s hair in a ponytail with a black bow.

.........

Sooooo that’s mostly all I have for now on Reaper Ambrose!!! I.. feel bad about all the angst, I really do, but I love exploring this different take all the same! I hope you liked it too, dear!! 🖤🖤🖤 Thank you again for the ask!!! >w<

[woodshorenews]

RYAN: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime, we take a look at the town of Woodshore, Washington, home to one of the nicest resorts in the country. 

SHANE: Oh, yay, something pleasant for once. 

RYAN: Let me finish–– home to one of the nicest resorts in the country, however, behind the Pacific ocean views, lies a grizzly and surprisingly recent series of murders that have left police stumped.

SHANE: Annnnd there it is.

RYAN: ... Let's get into it.

RYAN: Located off the coast of Washington, Woodshore is a small city home to about 30,000 people. It’s about a two-hour drive from Seattle. Known for its legendary resort that comprises most of the city and its employment, most people would describe the town as idyllic and quiet.  However, murky secrets lurk below.

RYAN: On February 4th of this year, Elias Peabody was last seen outside of the Rail Yard Tap, a local bar. For two whole weeks, the police department said nothing about his disappearance, other than there were no leads. But on the morning of February 19th, local newspapers reported that his body had been found, believed to be killed on the 17th. There were no details on the suspect, and no witnesses came forward. No one knows what happened to Mr. Peabody in the two weeks that he went missing.

RYAN: Another thing worth noting about this time is that on the morning of February 9th, local law enforcement found the remains of a mutilated deer carcass on the trail. And while this may sound unrelated at first, it is worth noting that February 8th, the night before, was a full moon. This has led some local residents to believe that it might be–

SHANE: No, no, no, no. Don’t do that. Don’t go looping your other shit into this.

RYAN: Do what? All I’m saying is that there was conveniently a mutilated animal carcass found. By the reports of it, it sounded pretty uh... pretty grotesque.

SHANE: No. That’s just – you know, the circle of life. Animals being animals.

RYAN: Listen, I’m not saying it was a werewolf.

SHANE: Yes, because werewolves aren’t real.

RYAN: I don’t even believe in werewolves! I’m just saying that’s what happened. And you know, uh, most serial killers, they tend to start off with hurting animals.

SHANE: But he already kidnapped the guy.

RYAN: That’s true. It’s just something to make note of. Let’s keep going.

RYAN: Just over a month later, on the morning of March 13th, a jogger found the body of a woman in these same woods. While the jogger initially thought they might be alive, paramedics declared her dead on the scene. According to the polite report, she appeared to have been pulled off the path and dragged, postmortem, before the suspect covered the body with various brush from the area. She was identified by a family member as 31 year old Nora Wentworth, a local elementary school teacher. The coroner’s report determined the cause of death to be asphyxiation and blunt force trauma to the skull. She was dead for thirty-six hours before she was found in the food. Nora was never reported missing, possibly due to the fact that schools happened to be on spring break that week.

RYAN: Well, I’ll give you that one. I don’t think a– uh, a second grader killed her.

SHANE: Also, hold on. She’d been dead thirty-six hours and the jogger who found her thought that she was still alive? What about decomposition?

RYAN: I don’t know, I mean, I didn’t talk to them. They probably didn’t get that close.

SHANE: What about the smell?

RYAN: Maybe they thought it was nature.

SHANE: Nature? No, no. You know what? The jogger did it. Case closed.

RYAN: That’s not how it works, dude. I mean, c’mon. Resort town. These people are probably you know, just going about their business, la di da, not thinking too much about any of it. They probably assumed there was no way they were finding another dead body in Woodshore.

SHANE: But there’d already been one murder!

RYAN: Yeah, well, nowhere’s perfect. I don’t know, dude, but I think if it was the jogger, they’d have found out by now. Finding the body always makes you a prime suspect.

SHANE: Uh-huh. Sure. What are the police doing, anyway? Sitting back, eating some donuts like those small town cops do, hoping there’s not a third?

RYAN: Well, they’re probably hoping that, yeah. That brings me to my next point.

RYAN: The day after the 2nd murder, the head detective on the case, Detective Hannah Zhang, suggested a town curfew and that people not be alone after day. Mayor Combs agreed to this, and the recommendation was published in the newspaper, along with information about the murder. However, after the case, Detective Zhang declined to make any kind of public comment about the case or how it was proceeding.

RYAN:  What’s also interesting about this is that, after the first case, the police department reacted similarly. And, more noteworthy, after the animal attack–

SHANE: Not this shit again.

RYAN: Yes. After the animal attack, they sent out advice about how to go in the woods without upsetting wildlife. Isn’t it interesting how they have the same level of response about both events? I mean – now multiple people being murdered, compared to an animal. 

SHANE: I mean, listen, you said this was a resort town. Chances are, they just don’t want to talk about it so that they can avoid putting a dent in their reputation. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. That’s just how small towns are.

RYAN: That’s not just how small towns are. That’s shady!

SHANE: It’s not that shady. C’mon, it’s the popo.

RYAN: That’s a terrible excuse. But, unfortunately for this small town, the lack of answers coming from the police department ultimately ended up with more harm.

RYAN: On April 2nd, only two months ago, Woodshore officers responded to a distress call. Upon arrival, the officers found a young adult who was barely responsive and suffering from extensive wounds to the skull and abdomen. Defensive wounds were also visible, according to paramedics. The phone that was used to make the call was later found at the scene. the young adult was declared dead on arrival at the Woodshore hospital and identified by family members as Orion Rubinstein, a twenty-two year old college student, who had last been seen only hours prior in the family’s suite at the resort. 

RYAN: Do you want this guy to murder you?

SHANE: I’d like him to try, yes. I think that would make some great footage. Besides, we obviously wouldn’t be filming this episode if he killed me. I’d be doing viral on Twitter. And you uh, you’d probably be... sobbing and trying to contact my ghost.

RYAN: Yeah, I think I would try to contact your ghost.

SHANE: And you would fail. Because ghosts aren’t real.

RYAN: Not true, but I digress. Obviously, we did get a chance to go to Woodshore in the beginning of May, and neither one of us was murdered. But could we have conceivably crossed paths with a murderer? Definitely. Now would be a good time for that montage...

RYAN: It is a beautiful town.

SHANE: Lovely town. Absolutely lovely.

RYAN: Unfortunately, we haven’t quite covered everything sketchy that’s happened in Woodshore in the last year.

SHANE: Wait, really? 

RYAN: Really. And uh... you’re really going to hate this one.

SHANE: Oh boy.

RYAN: On the morning of April 22nd, three weeks after the murder of Orion Rubenstein, the most grisly murder yet occurred. The evidence is both shocking yet underwhelming in what it reveals – there were no significant fingerprints or DNA evidence to be found. While authorities have not released this information publicly, an informant from inside the department has revealed that the victim’s cause of death was a wound to the neck and significant blood loss. The wound in question was two distinct punctures, and while the victim was drained of half of his body’s blood, only a few drops were found at the scene. 

The victim was the notorious Augustus Gallagher, a forty-one year old loan shark. He had a history of settling lawsuits for fraud and embezzlement, and has been connected to some of Woodshore’s more unsavory characters, including potentially a drug ring. While this connection has never been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, it raises some serious questions about Mr. Gallagher… and the motives of the Washington Night Stalker.

SHANE: The Washington Night Stalker. Every good serial killer needs a name.

RYAN: So you’re not going to comment on the fact that the victim had two puncture wounds in his neck and was drained of blood? All you care about is the name?

SHANE: Yeah, I mean, it’s a cool name.

RYAN: Uh-huh.

SHANE: And vampires obviously aren’t real.

RYAN: See, I agree with you there. I don’t think they’re real. But, it’s interesting that between Gallagher’s murder, and the whole full moon thing, there’s a little... a little drop of vampires and werewolves in this town.

SHANE: But it doesn’t mean anything because none of that crap is real.

RYAN: Right, right.

SHANE: Well, this is a weird feeling. Four murders this year and the police have got, what? Nothing?

RYAN: Nada.

SHANE: Wow.

RYAN: Yeah. In this case, the police has said so little about the actual case and suspects surrounding it, just that they apparently have significant leads. But, nothing’s actually come from any of this. With four murders under its belt, and maybe something a little more savory going on inside of Woodshore, this resort-style town might not be as idyllic as it appears on the surface.

But for now, this case will remain... Unsolved.

[shirtlesssammy]

9x22: Stairway to Heaven

Then:

Metatron!!!!

Now:

Dixon, MIssouri

A very particular mom orders ice cream for herself and then asks her son what he would like. He points to a girl eating a Ziggy Piggy all alone and wants that! She goes over to the girl to berate her not for eating something with a symbol of racism as decoration but for eating diabetes in a bowl. The girl says she’s an angel though and can do as she pleases. A man walks into the store--and pulls out an angel blade. The girl tells the woman to run as her eyes flash blue. Too late, the place disintegrates in a flash of white. 

Sam WInchester sleeps with his gun under his pillow in his own room. That breaks me a little. Dean, the Mark of Cain in full jerk mode, wakes him and even though they’ve only slept for two hours, wants to get going. 

Sam joins Dean in the library and Dean tells him that he talked to Cas and there’s something happening in Missouri. He couldn’t give details over the phone because (And mind you, Dean says this while looking wistfully upwards) “He’s a weird, dorky little guy.” smh. 

Dean grabs the First Blade and Sam questions whether it’s necessary. Dean insists they need it with them all the time if they’re going to take down Metatron. Sam thinks he should leave it in the bunker for this trip. Dean agrees. 

Once at the ice cream shop, the brothers learn their FBI covers are Agents Spears and Agulera. #BlessAndrewDabb. (Sidenote: I just LOVE Dean’s little plaid tie.) Cas is already inside. They meet up and Cas shows them a victim, eyes burned out. He doesn’t know what happened but six people died and one angel. Whatever Metatron is doing is abhorrent. 

Cut to Metatron trying on a trench coat in his headquarters. Someone knocks at the door and he quickly scrambles to take the coat off. 

Gadreel walks in. He wants to talk about their plans. Cas’s side of the war is winning. Metatron doesn’t understand why angels are choosing Cas over him when he can get them home. The Metatron admits THE TRUTH: He’s cute and he’s got charm. He counters that he --Metatron-- is lovable and funny, which gets an eyebrow lift from Gadreel. Oh Metatron, you’re the worst. Gadreel tells Metatron that they’re meeting with the last large faction of angels left. Metatron isn’t stressed, he has a plan! (It’s not the trench coat, no, nope)

At Trench Coat Headquarters, Cas introduces Dean and Sam to Hannah. There’s some light ‘he likes me better’ banter between Dean and Hannah. 

Hannah tells Cas an angel is missing. Josiah was a mole and now he’s gone. Dean and Sam set to tracking him. (Hannah’s little unimpressed attitude towards Dean is entertaining.) Two seconds later, Sam finds that his credit card was used at a Gas ‘n Sip in Colorado. Dean turns to Hannah and gets his ruler out to measure. 

Another angel has video of the ice cream shop attack. Just before the megasmiting, the angel, Orin, announced, “I do this for Castiel!” and stabs himself in the chest. Dean wants answers but Cas has no clue what that was. “I’m going to be sick.” Oh, bby. (Also, how is this not a reaction gif for fandom wank all the time?) In any event, Dean doesn’t seem to want to believe Cas, accusing him of running a cult and dredging up his little attempt at playing God back in the day. 

For I know Dean is Mad but This Sure Makes a Pretty Shot Science:

Interrupting Moose uses his powers for good and drags them into a private room to continue the conversation. 

Cas explains the Enochian sigil on the angel’s torso was something to draw energy and the stabbing unleashed that energy, atomizing the other angel. Dean tells Cas that he needs to stay back while the brothers investigate. Cas responds with a flat, defiant “No.” And let us never forget this dorky little guy is a BAMF. That prompts the plan of Cas and Sam heading to Colorado to find Josiah. 

On the road, Sam fills Cas in on what’s really been happening this season because Dean and Cas apparently only whisper sweet nothings and giggle on the phone.

Sam and Cas talk about how the Mark is changing Dean. Cas’s admission that Dean is “always a little angry” breaks me a little. 

Metatron is busy wooing angels at a bowling alley. They don’t want to go back to heaven. Life’s too good on earth. The smell of the bowling alley is enough to keep them here. (OMG and LOL) 

Metatron pulls out his blade. The angel laughs and tells him that if he dies, all his angels will side with Castiel. He’ll talk if Metatron out bowls him though. 

On the road, Sam and Cas have a lead on Josiah. 

Dean interviews other angels that knew Orin. One decides to poke the bear a bit, telling Dean that he doesn’t save lives. He forces her at the end of an angel blade to name names. One of them is Tessa. Yep, the reaper Tessa. 

Cas and Sam track Josiah’s car to a place that Cas can sense is radiating power. They try entering a door to a warehouse but Sam’s lock picking skills fail. Cas, ancient angel of infinite strength informs Sam that he’s “got this.” He slams the door a couple of times and tries the door, to no avail. “I don’t got this.” <Insert jensen with camera you’re doing amazing pic> 

Dean tracks down Tessa. And we learn that Dean Winchester likes Fiddler on the Roof. But really he’s wants to know what she thinks she’s doing. She tries walking away from him when he grabs her and sees something carved on her chest. He handcuffs her and demands she tell him where the other rogue angel, Constantine, is. 

Cut to the bowling alley, as Metatron huffs away from losing his game of bowling, an angel calls his name. It’s Constantine. “I do this for Castiel,” he announces and stabs himself. The world goes white. 

It’s now night and Sam and Cas are still trying to get into the warehouse. Cas reveals there’s a riddle in Enochian warding the place.

“Why is 6 afraid of 7? I assume because 7 is a prime number and prime numbers can be intimidating.” “It’s because 7 ate (8) 9,” Sam corrects, and the door opens. GOLD. Even more GOLD: Cas references Lord of the Rings. Yeah, Cas knows a thing about things now. 

Cas and Sam finally enter the building, walking through a shadowy concrete tunnel. Sam happens upon a message inscribed on the wall: “Only the penitent man shall pass.” Holy Indiana Jones, Batman! He shouts a warning to Cas, but Cas has already crouched below the whirling blades. (Thank god he’s pop culture saavy now. Pop culture saved his life! #Relatable)

Dean interrogates Tessa with Hannah lurking in the background. Tessa is adamant that she turned herself into a suicide bomber for Castiel - he assigned her that task, personally. Hannah is SHOOK.

Hannah wants to fight and Dean shoos her out the door to get her in line. They agree that Tessa believes what she’s saying. Yikes.

In the Raiders of the Lost Heaven, Cas strides towards a lit door at the end of the hallway and something in him seems to lighten and lift as he approaches it. It’s the door to Heaven! It’s calling him in. Cas approaches, ready to seize control of the door to Heaven. He opens the door and--

Soft music and valentine-hued rotating lights play across poor Castiel’s astonished face. The room is a total joke, set up like a party with little paper cupids and angels strung up alongside balloons and gold streamers. Fred Astaire croons “Cheek to Cheek” in the otherwise empty room. Sam finds a card addressed to Cas that reads: "Welcome to your own personal heaven, Castiel. Good luck finding the real one."

They discover a terribly burned body lying on the floor - an angel burned by holy oil. Sam looks up and spots a Home-Alone-style door mounted flame torch. Suddenly the body jumps and grabs Cas. He’s not dead yet! He says that Metatron promised that he could return home. But he’s not going with Cas now. He looks at Cas, and he doesn’t see an angel anymore. (Cas bby!)

Dean heads back in to talk to Tessa. He begs her for a reason for her actions. “I guess I just can’t take the screaming,” she says at last, her voice breaking. There are tons of lost souls wandering the Earth now who can’t get into Heaven since it’s been closed. She hears all of their torment and suffers, to the point where death is preferable. But now that Cas gave her a reason to die…

Dean, bless him (finally!) doesn’t believe her - not fully. It doesn’t sound like the Cas he knows. Tessa counters with the fact that he also didn’t know that Cas leading a super secret army and….fair, I suppose. Dean asks for names and then threatens her, pulling out the first blade. Tessa immediately freaks out over it. “What have you done?” she asks. “What I had to,” he responds. Dean. Bean. She grips him then and pulls herself onto the first blade, dying in his arms. 

Dean falls into a kind of lull after the kill, just barely snapping out of it as Hannah and another angel rushes in. 

Cut to Dean, handcuffed to a chair and his mouth duct-taped. “He put up a fight,” Hannah says testily as Cas and Sam rush in to him. Sam immediately lays into Dean about bringing the first blade. 

Cas interrupts their squabble, only to be interrupted by Hannah. Metatron’s calling…

On screen, Metatron talks about Castiel’s henchman’s attack in the bowling alley. Poor dead Titus’ followers have all joined Metatron’s team in retaliation. Cas protests that he sent nobody to kill Metatron. 

Metatron laughs at him, and then delivers his elevator speech. He’s only doing what’s best for the angels. 

Metatron delivers his offer: amnesty to any angel crossing to his side. Angels need to follow someone - so they might as well follow him. He tells them that Cas isn’t the bold leader they think. He’s sending angels out to die AND he’s sporting stolen grace that is fading quickly. (Some half truths and a lie!) 

Metatron goes a step further: Cas only cares about himself and the Winchesters. Cas tries for some damage control with a pissed off host of angels. He admits to the stolen grace and they assume the worst based on that. Cas’s defense is going...poorly. 

Hannah asks for proof. Cas has to punish Dean for killing Tessa. “You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one man.” She holds up on angel blade while angels hold Dean and Sam fast.

Cas takes the blade, contemplating his choices, his army. He looks at Dean...and then looks down. “No, I can’t,” he says. He lets the blade fall to his side and just like that, his army leaves. Cas, Dean, and Sam watch them file out of the room. (Don’t mind me while I gabble on about all that wasted infrastructure they’re leaving behind.) 

In Heaven, Metatron gleefully chats on the phone to the first defector from Castiel’s army before chortling to Gadreel about how his plan is working. Gadreel is pissed, though. The “elite unit” (Tessa, etcetera) he helped recruit for Metatron’s team weren’t supposed to blow themselves up - but Metatron brainwashed them as soon as they came over. Metatron’s dismissive of Gadreel’s ire. “You start by building up a seemingly unbeatable enemy, like the death star, or a rival angel with a bigger army. That way, I look like the underdog. But then, oh, no! The competition gets greedy. He starts pushing things too much. With the help of my combustible double agents. And then, after a rousing speech, his true weakness is revealed. He's in love...with humanity.”

Boris and I are going to take a moment to burn in the fires of that last sentence. We’re FINE. 

Gadreel asks after Josiah and Metatron blithely describes him as a loose end, cleaned up by his booby-traps. 

Driving back, the Impala is silent. Cas sits in the back seat stoically and HOW symbolic is THAT? When they get back to the bunker, Sam confronts Dean again about the first blade. Dean snaps a little bit and says he’s the only one who can kill Metatron, armed with the blade. He’s in charge now. (UGH I really do dislike Mark of Cain Dean.) Sam heads off in a huff and Dean corners Cas, asking about his grace. Cas tries to deflect but Dean’s done with bullshit. He asks how long Cas has to live. “Long enough to destroy Metatron, I hope.” Cas bby ;_;

Cas asks again if Dean believes he would have ordered those angels to kill themselves. Dean finally, unequivocally says that he believes Cas would never do that - he just gave up his “whole army for one guy,” after all. 

Cas wonders if the three of them can prevail. Dean believes in Team Free Will. And then... Gadreel walks in. He tells them that Metatron is a problem and he’s willing to work with them. Gadreel begs for them to give him a chance. For a moment, everybody’s chill and I think...hey they’re gonna sit down, have a nice cup of tea, come up with a civilized battle plan. 

Instead, Dean approaches Gadreel slowly. Holds out his hand. And...hauls up the first blade to slice him across the chest. Dean snarls like a raging beast at Gadreel and the episode fades away.

______________________________

In Love with Quote-manity:

“They like to hear me say their names.” “I know a couple women like that.”

Yeah, I heard he had a real explosive personality.

Honey, there ain’t no other men like me.

I’m very pop culture savvy now.

He’s a weird, dorky little guy

I've noticed your aliases are usually the names of popular musicians

You’re such an...angel sometimes

I don’t got this

Why is six afraid of seven?" Now, I assume it's because seven is a prime number, and prime numbers can be intimidating

You’re Mother Theresa with neckbeard!

______________________________

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[thedeviltohisangel]

How The Night Changes//11//Piece By Piece

Duncan & Olivia’s one year anniversary.

Smut Warning

more of dunc & liv at the masterlist link in my bio!

send any thoughts, questions, requests for future parts my way!

The date on the calendar had a heart around it. Olivia caught herself staring at it whenever she was bored in a meeting or zoning out at her desk. On particularly bad days, she’d trace the shape over and over again until it bled through the paper. A bleeding heart. The imagery was funny to her.

“What’s happening on March 11?” Olivia dropped her pen in surprise as the voice of Hannah, one of her coworkers, appeared from behind her.

“Oh, nothing. Just doodling on my calendar.” She snapped the leather planner shut quickly and smiled as sincerely as possible at the woman.

“Well the heart made it seem important. Got a date?” This was made Olivia remember was she missed most about her dancing career. None of them really tried to pry into her life. They knew whether or not they were friends outside of the company and, if they were, they brought up questions like this to her when they were on personal time. Not at her cube in the middle of the work day.

“Nope. I’m still discovering myself, Hannah. Don’t have the capacity for a relationship at the moment.” The former was true. After suffering an ankle injury, Olivia had to give up professional dancing. It had been difficult so far to figure out who she was without ballet. It had been the prevailing feature of her life for so long. Then one day it just wasn’t and her mother had forced her to work at a lobbying firm. She was beyond unhappy. The latter part was false. Her relationship with Duncan was thriving. They were happy and in love and she wished she could spend every waking moment with him. Unfortunately, the fact that their relationship was still a secret got in the way of that.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“I’m sorry?” Olivia was not only confused but also concerned. Had she let something slip out about her and Duncan?

“You blush and giggle at your phone all the time. You leave the office at 4:59 every day like you have somewhere urgent to be. I see the emergency toiletry bag you have in your desk...not only do I think you’re dating someone, I think you’re spending the night with them.” Olivia slowly blinked at Hannah for a few seconds once she finished her rant. If it was any other relationship, Olivia might have found it impressive. But this wasn’t a normal relationship. It was Duncan. The man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Therefore, she found in predatory and creepy.

“Stalking the President’s daughter is not funny,” she deadpanned right back to her. Olivia hating laying claim to her mother but she used the trump card when she absolutely had to. To protect Duncan, she would do anything. It worked well enough, Hannah rolling her eyes and stalking away. Olivia turned back to her computer with a relieved sigh and then a groan as the clock read 4:53. She still had six minutes left in this hell hole. Duncan had promised he’d cook for her that night. Promised she would actually leave his office at a normal time in order to do so. Olivia was desperately hoping he was able to keep that promise but it was rare that he did. Last time he had strolled in two hours late with bags of takeout. It was in the moments when she was missing him that she considered going public. Then they could meet for lunch or coffee or she could just swing by his office because she was craving a kiss. But the life of politics prevented her from doing that. The donut-shaped paper weight that he had gotten her caught her eye. “One day, little donut, one day.”

----

Olivia knew this was going to happen. That getting her hopes up for Duncan to be home early was fruitless and dangerous. She sat at his kitchen table with two place settings and two glasses of wine. Hers was empty now and the candles had been blown out an hour ago. Tears were burning at the back of her eyes. Did she deserve this? Was this what the rest of her life was going to look like? Sitting alone in a dark house just waiting for him to come home? No. She deserved better. Her heart had just settled on the idea that she should head home when she heard keys in the door. Duncan was whistling as he kicked off his Burberry loafers and threw his keys into the bowl by the door.

“Oh shit!” he yelled as he turned on the light in his kitchen and saw Olivia sitting there. “Jesus, babe, you scared me.” Part of him was exhilarated though. He had only recently given Olivia her own key to his place and having her be the first thing he saw when he got home was exciting. Duncan leaned down to kiss her but she turned her face so he got her cheek instead.

“Do you even remember what tonight was supposed to be?” She had been expecting him to profusely apologize to her as soon as he came in the door. Instead, he had been surprised she was there. That worried her.

“Sorry, bubby, I don’t.” He figured it was best to just be honest with her. That way they could work through only one thing he did wrong, forget, rather than two things he did wrong, forget and then lie about it. She nodded with a sad laugh and stood up, collecting the dishes and silverware she had laid out in order to put them back where they belonged.

“We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary tonight. Since you have to go to Mexico when we were supposed to go to Malibu.” The trip had been one of the many gifts he had gotten her for her birthday. A secret getaway to celebrate their first official year together. She had been looking forward to it. A chance to be away from the magnifying glass of DC. A chance to be a normal girl in love. But then business had come up, the way it always seemed to with Duncan recently.

“Fuck.” Duncan squeezed his eyes closed and rested his forehead against his island. He remembered now. When he told her about the conflict in dates with his trip to Mexico, she had been absolutely devastated. He had promised they would pick a night to celebrate and make it special. He had told her he’d leave work early to spend the whole weekend with her. Had said he’d make her that roast chicken she had really enjoyed. He was an absolute fuck up. “I’m sorry. That airline safety report came out today and my mom-”

“I kind of don’t care. Don’t want to listen to you apologize or tell me reasons. Tonight was just in the back of your mind. Something more important shoved it back there.” Olivia finished wiping down her wine glass, resting it in his drying rack and beginning to walk towards the front door. She wasn’t going to stand in his kitchen and feel unimportant. She had better things to do on a Friday night like order more sushi than she could actually fit in her stomach and watch NCIS on Netflix.

“You know I didn’t intentionally forget about tonight. Celebrating you and our relationship and how in love with you I am is very important to me. I promise.”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to argue with him. She didn’t want to show how hurt she was. She just wanted to go home and cry and question her existence in peace.

“Okay? Okay? Liv, don’t be all passive aggressive and petty about this. If me missing one dinner makes you think I don’t care about you or love you then-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Duncan Shepherd, unless you really want what you were about to say.” He clamped his mouth shut. “It’s not about missing dinner. It’s about me missing you. Me wanting to spend time with you. And we can only spend time together when we are hidden away for these little moments. They mean so much to me and tonight hurts.” She slid her Aquazurras back on and left his home before he could even respond. Walking away from an argument wasn’t the right thing to do and she knew that. But she wasn’t able to stand looking at him. The evil part her brain telling her that it was clear she cared more about their relationship than he did. Sometimes it was best for her to be alone when the negativity crept in so she didn’t lash out the same way she had in Paris. The thought of looking at her pink heart around their anniversary date made her sick. Maybe she needed a new planner.

----

The banging on her front door was making her head pound. She had cried herself to sleep after bingeing on sushi and NCIS, like she had planned, and was looking forward to spending the next 48 hours in bed.

“Henry!” she called out to the head of her protection detail. Normally he was in charge of opening her door and screening whoever was on the other side. Olivia was assuming it was her mother. Only close friends and Clare Underwood got close enough to knock on her door.

“It’s me, Liv.” That was not her mother’s voice. That was Duncan’s voice. “I’m not here to grovel, I promise. I just want to talk.” She contemplated letting him in or not. She did miss his stubbly face. Olivia rolled out of bed and shrugged on a bathrobe before opening the door for her boyfriend. The Gucci duffle bag at his feet catching her eye immediately.

“What’s that for?”

“We’re going to Malibu. The jet is fueled up and just waiting for us to get on it.”

“Where is this coming from?” She was stunned. This was the last outcome that she could have anticipated.

“I heard what you said last night. And what you were holding back from saying. I need to make more of an effort to put work on the back burner. We have such an amazing future ahead of us and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. I’m sending someone else to Mexico. Let’s go to Malibu and celebrate us and the best year of my life and maybe never come back.” Olivia stepped forward with a small smile, intertwining her fingers with his.

“You mean that? You want a future with me?”

“I owe you like five kids if I remember correctly and a bomb ass proposal so...yeah. I want the rest of my life with you, Olivia.”

“Then let’s go to fucking Malibu!”

----

Duncan had apparently been planning this trip for a lot longer than he had let on. It was a secluded mansion with a private beach that he had been renovating for the past few years. It was initially going to be a bachelor pad of sorts for him. A place to escape the bubble of DC and hideaway with friends or some pretty girls. But then he had fallen into his relationship with Olivia. They had made their pact to keep it secret until the time was right. Then he decided that the house could become a fortress. He changed the blueprints abruptly and made it a high tech security masterpiece. Henry had flown out on numerous occasions to check on the progress and make sure it was to the highest of Secret Service standards. Duncan had blocked off the beach for miles so no one could even come near the structure and had built a near forest around the back of the property to keep from prying eyes on both directions. It was a work of art and it was all for her. For their future together.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she said in awe as Duncan finished giving her the grand tour.

“It’s still not completely done. I’m putting an addition on for some extra bedrooms cause this could be a nice vacation home for us once we have a family, I think.” Talking about marriage and kids with Olivia was not some stress induced, anxiety ridden topic anymore. It was an obvious checkpoint in Duncan’s life plan now. Have a family with Olivia.

“You talking about our future together makes me wet!” she groaned as she placed her champagne flute down and hugged him against her. “Though I am still a little upset about last night.” The impromptu trip to Malibu had done some work in easing her annoyance but it wasn’t something she wanted to just brush aside and never speak of again. Mature couples broached their issues like adults and worked through them. Hopefully, her and Duncan were a mature couple.

“I know. It was wrong of me to put business before you, even unintentionally. Our life together and our future life together mean so much to me. I was hoping this trip and this house at least start me down the path of a good apology.”

“They do. I love you.” How could she not forgive him when he was talking about kids and vacation homes? Olivia had always been a planner and that meant her future too. Duncan was a crystal clear image when she looked forward. It was thrilling to know that he saw her too.

“I love you too. Now. Let’s go look at that private beach I was mentioning…”

----

Olivia had never felt more rested than she did when she woke up the following morning. The bed was soft and warm and Duncan was wrapped around her like they were always meant to be. Everything felt slower in California. In this little corner of the world that Duncan had put aside for her. For them. They hadn’t needed to rush through dinner. Hadn’t stopped in the middle of kissing on the couch afterwards to answer a phone call. Hadn’t heard a single honking horn or helicopter the whole night. It had been the most at peace Olivia had been in awhile. And it was all thanks to the man lying beside her.

“You hungry for breakfast, my little love?” His skin was tacky as his chest pressed against her back, residual from their romp in bed last night.

“Kind of,” she murmured back as she curled up further into a ball. Olivia didn’t think anything could entice out of bed in that moment. Nothing was worth leaving the cocoon of love they had created. She closed her eyes again as he pressed kisses to her shoulder blades, leaning over to also place his love to the side of her neck.

“I’m also kind of hungry,” he replied as his stomach rumbled. With a deep sigh, Olivia rolled over so she was facing him and pulled him in for a proper good morning kiss on the lips. Long gone were the days of either of them fretting about morning breath. Olivia used to set an alarm in order to wake up and brush her teeth before Duncan did so she wouldn’t embarrass herself. Now she realized he didn't care. It was more important for him to kiss her and love on her first thing in the morning than it was for her to brush her teeth. There was something beautiful about the acceptance and domesticity of it all.

“Roll over,” she whispered as they slowly pulled apart from their kiss. He did as he was told, lying on his back and watching with a smirk as Olivia straddled his stomach and began to slowly move towards her final destination of his face.

“I like where this is going.” His hands landed on the side of her thighs and helped guide her into the perfect position so her delicious core was hovering over his lips. “What a beautiful little treat.” There had been a time when Olivia was too self conscious to sit on Duncan’s face. The first time he had asked her to let him please her in that position, she had simply hovered over his tongue. After some eye rolling and cajoling and Duncan assuring her she wouldn’t break his jaw, she had settled in comfortably and been delivered one of the most mind blowing orgasms of her life.

“A little treat for a good little boy,” she teased as she lowered herself fully onto his mouth. His piercing blue eyes stayed locked onto her as one hand steadied herself by gripping onto the headboard and the other gripped onto his hair. He nestled his way between her outer lips and inhaled her scent heavily through his nose like an addict. In a way, he was. Everytime they were apart, which was way more often than Duncan would like, something inside of his body was ticking away like a bomb. It was as though if he didn’t see her soon then he would cease to exist. His body, mind and soul called to her in ways he had never experienced before.

“I think the beachy air is making you taste sweeter,” Duncan moaned as he came up from his first solid drink of her. He was taking his time. He never went too fast when it came to his time between her legs. It was like having only one gift to open on Christmas. He savored the moment like it would be his last. Olivia arched her back with a slight gasp as he hit the most sacred spot on her pussy. It was a secret nook that only Duncan had ever been able to find and he used it sparingly. Long ago Duncan had learned that the slower he worked at her pussy, the faster she came.

“You feel so good,” she gasped out as she watched him below her in awe.

“Only cause I have the best tasting pussy in the world to love on.” It wasn’t even conjecture. Olivia really did taste the best. She smelled the best. She felt the best. Duncan thinks that was when he first knew they were meant to be.

“Don’t tease,” she chastised as he pulled away a bit and pecked kisses onto the inner skin of her thighs. He smirked at her before obeying her command and located her clit again with his tongue. His thumb rubbed on the little pearl gently as he felt the muscles in her legs begin to shake in anticipation above him. Knowing she would soon be teetering over the edge, he switched to his tongue and applied some extra pressure.

“Feeling good, baby?” he asked as her breaths turned into pants. He reached one hand up to cup one of her breasts for a massage while the other tightened its grip on her hips as she began to rut against his tongue. Ever the tease, Duncan switched from his pattern of licking to placing some gentle kisses against her clit as he would to her forehead.

“Donut, please, I wanna cum...I’m gonna cum so hard.” He stopped playing games for the sake of that beautiful little whine that was tinging her voice and used his arsenal of skill to quickly bring her over the edge. The sound of his name falling from her lips and the way she shivered with delight was a beautiful sight that Duncan knew he would never tire of witnessing.

“You look like a fucking angel when you cum,” he murmured as he placed more kisses to the inside of her thigh.

“Bet you’re not hungry anymore,” she smirked as she ran a hand through her hair and fell onto her back.

“No, I am satisfied beyond belief.” He patted his stomach for emphasis, smiling when that got a laugh out of her.

“Good because I’m starving.” Olivia sprang up from the bed with a newfound invigoration and grabbed a fluffy white robe from the hook behind the bathroom door.

“Where are you going? We’re not gonna cuddle?” Duncan loved their post sex cuddles.

“Later, Donut, my stomach is rumbling. After we eat, I need to cum again and then you need to cum inside of me. My pussy and my tummy are feeling empty. I can only take care of one at a time.” She looked at him like that should have been obvious.

“You’re lucky you’re beautiful and I love you because you are fucking insane.” Olivia merely shrugged because it was the truth and it was a truth that she had accepted long ago.

“Come on. Homemade granola does not make itself.” Duncan lost his sense of being for a moment as his future flashed before him. Many more mornings just like this. Slowly waking up. Loving each other first thing. Making breakfast. Maybe another cat or a dog walking around downstairs. The pitter patter of a little Liv or little Donut. It made his heart blossom in his chest. “Please, Duncan?” She was calling him from downstairs, unable to find the tools and ingredients she needed to make her granola and wanting the help of the man who had designed every aspect of the home.

“Just putting on some pants!” He moved quickly. He had a life with her to start.

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@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @aveiangdon @and-shes-not-even-pretty @ticklish-leafy-plant @bbyduncan @khaleesimel @langdonslove @langdvn

[missmarrypotter]

I did not search for anything but i don’t mind what i found today

Writing stories kinda relaxes me so i thought i’d write some dabbles from time to time and use this acc for something else than just stalking and reading imagines 😂 Remember englisch is not my First language 😂💞😉

Scott Reed x OC

IMPORTANT :This Story takes place before Hannah Baker appears ✨ so Bryce and Monty will be mentioned so if that's a no for You don't read it :)

WARNINGS: alcohol!?,  kissing?!😂

Who does not Like a good Party?! Well Lots of people actually but not the jocks from liberty high school. They were always hosting Parties. This Weekend there was a Party at the house of Bryce Walker, the probably richest of the jocks. At least talking about the money his family owned not necessarily talking about the social aspects. There were about 234 people in that house celebrating today's win over some other high school’s Baseball team. Zach Dempsey - a really really tall asian jock, Jeff Atkins - Liberty’s beautiful Star Athlete and Scott Reed - a Baseball Player with cheekbones sharp as a seashell had some Drinks in the kitchen, talking about their game and how Well they managed today as a girl stumbled in. “ Uhm…  guys who is that?!” Scott asked his friends while slightly staring at her. He moved here 5 Month ago so he was still Meeting New people at every Party. She had pastel pink, waved hair with some lilac streaks and a dark brown hairline. Some strands just Fell into her face while the the Rest was tied into a messy bun. She slowly looked through the Kitchen somehow confused, maybe searching for something her amber colored eyes looking slightly tired and exhausted. When she saw the boys she smiled weakly and waved. The boys sheepishly smiled and Zach patted Scotts back saying: “ that’s my sisters Babysitter, Jeff’s Best friend and.. “ before he could finish Justin Foley - the Basketball’s Team Captain entered the room. Shirtless and smirking. “ oh… “ Scott sighted when he noticed the girl who caught his attention was wearing the missing shirt. Meanwhile that girl had made her way to the freezer where she found herself some massive Box of chocolate cookie Ice Cream. There she sat on the kitchen table happily eating the treasure she found and feeding every second spoon to a laughing Jeff. The smirking Justin grabbed himself a beer while high fiving Zach. “ Dude, Foley how hammered is she!?” Jeff asked while watching his Best friend trying to feed ice cream to the Cat that was pictured on the calendar hanging in the Wall next to the table while snorty giggling. The guys bursted into laughter watching her smearing the cream all over the picture. Damn alcohol?. After a few seconds Justin managed to answer: “ she drank some beer not much but then she found some brownies..  Guess extra Butter wasn't what made them that tasty” he shrugged. “ Oh dang she is so not good with Weed..  Luckily it never lasts long ” Jeff stated quietly laughing as he remembered his Bestie sitting in a circle with some stuffed animals explaining the female suffering while being on their period the last time she had some marijuana. Alcohol made her touchy, cuddly and just so cute but marijuana..  Oh Boy. Justin noticed the kinda creepy gazing Scott. He winked at Zach and nodded to the door signaling him to leaf Scott alone with her. “ Guys Bryce just texted me Sheri is going to get some More Alcohol and she needs some strong guys with her.. “ he lied. Jeff noticed their Plan and stepped towards Scott while having his girl piggyback riding him - brushing his hair with a fork.” On my way, Scotty You take care of my girl!” he instructed His friend while somehow managing to shake his backpack of himself and placing him next to his slightly overwhelmed Team mate. Quickly the three boys made their way outside, giggling Like some Kids that just did something their parents forbid. Scott awkwardly laughed before smoothly asking:” so… i’ m Scott   Scott Reed,  what's your Name?! “. “ Phee” was all he got as an answer After she managed to escape the spell his bluish-green eyes had over her. But it just sounded like some random weird giggle cause her laughter mixed with the answer. He laughed as well. “ what?!”.  She inhaled some air and concentrated. “ Phee. That’s what i am called.” she began slowly, still a little mumbling, “ my full Name is Penelopee Ava O’ donnal but when Jeff was bout 2 years Old he just managed to say Phee and yeah..  It stayed with me” she explained while poking his side with her fork. He nodded. “ Sounds Like a long Ass friendship. That's cool. Jeff is such a cool cool guy.” he tried to Start a conversation. She jumped happily and nodded, “ Yeah he totally is, Justin, Zack, Monty and Jeff are the loveliest jocks i know, i know them since..  Almost always ” she told him very fast. He smiled. Seeing her that happy made his heart jump. “ And Justin is..  Is he your.” “ Boyfriend?!” she interrupted. “ no. Are we having Sex!? yes. But that's it, just two friends having a good time. I mean..  I sure love him. But just the way i love my other boys, i’m not really a relationship type of girl or at least i’ve never met someone who convinced me otherwise.. ” she cleared the circumstances. Scott sighed in relief. Well at least relieved about the not being Justin's Girlfriend . So he had a Chance. Something about her smile made his heart jup, her freckles made him want to trace them around her body with Kisses, he wanted to know her better. He wanted to know everything. Every good and Bad Detail about her life and herself. Did she think the Same way!? At least she looked at him as if she could or was it just the brownies!? As he watched her smile he noticed something. “ Woah are those Piercings?! “ He asked looking at what he First thought were dimples.” Yeah “ she grinned and stuck out her tongue revealing another Piercing.” So cool” he said amazed. “ Your parents were ok with that?!” he asked in disbelief. “ Well they believe in self determined parenting and they are gone for months quite often so…  yep kinda” she shrugged. Her eyes were much brighter and fresher now so apparently the brownies started to fade away. “ How come i never met You even though You’re so close with the guys ?! “ he wanted to know. “ My parents took me with them to some of their Business Trips to Sweden four Month ago.. And I really liked it there so they convinced the school i could do some online schooling while traveling through scandinavia..  I came back two days ago “, she explained.” So cool!” he answered amazed. So the welcome Party the boys hosted for their friend who just came back had been for her. And he decided to practice with his dad as they asked him to come. What a shame. They talked Like that for a while. Telling each other about their families, their dreams, laughing together, drunk hugging, being touchy, drinking some more,  walking around in this huge house and making fun of Bryce's Baby Photos. After a few hours and most of their friends leaving or passing out they went to take a walk to Phee’ s Home After they both got annoyed by the Couples making out at The Pool they decided to use the Pool at Phee’s Home instead. Her parents currently left for some Business in France and her brother decided to spend the night at his Boyfriends. Perfect night to bring some totally adorable stranger Home. After thirty minutes of walking they got to a house not as big as Bryce's of course but still pretty big. With some red roses in front of it. She turned around and looked at him excited. “ You afraid of dogs!?” she asked.” Nah, why?!” he wanted to know but right After his words he saw them as she opened the gate. Three massive Dogo Agentinos running towards them. He stumbled a step back and just watched the small girl being greeted by her cuddly giant guardians. They sat down next to her looking at Him with their wiggling tails. “ Woah not Bad… did You train them?!” he wanted to know kinda impressed.” My brother and I did, yeah. Those are Rosco, Desoto and Butternut” she introduced her babies. “ Not Hard to guess which Name You picked”, he laughed. She laughed with him Knowing it was not her idea to call the youngest one “Butternut”.She guided him to the Pool, the dogs waddling with them. They decided underwear swimming would be much cooler than putting on bathing Suits so they went in just their undies. After a while of fooling around Scott decided it was time to ask a question he was dying to ask since she forked Jeff’s hair:” so.. I know You are not really searching for a Boyfriend but is the idea of having a Boyfriend really that unthinkably to You!?” he said while swimming towards her and putting his Hands behind her neck playing with her hair, smiling at her softly. “I did not search for anything but i don’t mind what i found today , and I totally don't mind finding out if maybe i could be a Relationship Person After all..” she replied putting her fingers on his cheeks stroking them slightly, pulling him near her. “ I guess we will see” he whispered stroking his nose against hers before gently putting his lips on hers. He definitely was someone special and definitely worth the try.

Soo that's it 🤗 Hope some of You guys enjoyed it even though it's so short 😂✨ Tips and feedback are welcome all the time 🍀

[saintdracopotter]

6 events, 6 outfits

“Draco, what is this?” Harry called from the kitchen, where he’d just found “Daily Prophet” editions from years back, all featuring a photo of Harry on the front page, spread out on the dining table.

Draco entered the kitchen with smirk. “That, Potter, is you, wearing the exact same suit to every Christmas event for the past five years.”

Harry only now noticed that he indeed was wearing the same suit in all the photos. “Your point is?”

“Well, now that I’m your boyfriend, you will never wear that suit again. Don’t even bother trying to find it; I’ve already burned it.” “Draco! That was my only suit!”

“No kidding,” Draco deadpanned.

“What am I supposed to wear to the Ministry event on Friday then?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. We have six events to go to this December, and I’ll be styling you for each and every one.” Draco looked entirely too pleased with himself.

…

The first outfit was a seven piece suit made of scratchy fabric that made Harry feel like he was on fire. All Harry did on the way to the Ministry party was complain about how the collar was too tight and the jacket sleeves were too short, and Draco just rolled his eyes.

After two hours of suffering in that godforsaken suit, Harry was pretty much tearing it off of himself the second he and Draco got home.

“Stop,” Draco said.

Harry sighed, thinking Draco would tell him to be more gentle with the fabric, but Draco surprised him by grinning seductively and saying, “If anyone’s going to rip off your clothes, it’s going to be me.”

…

The second outfit Harry wore to Neville and Hannah’s Christmas-themed wedding. The wizarding robes Draco picked out for him were green, apparently bringing out the color of his eyes, but frankly they gave Harry horrid flashbacks to the Yule Ball.

In the end Harry didn’t really mind the wizarding robes, as Draco found them rather appealing and told Harry how handsome he looked at least a dozen times.

…

The third outfit was by far Harry’s favorite. It consisted of a white t-shirt, a black sport coat, and black jeans.

“Thanks for not putting me through hell with this outfit,” Harry told Draco as they were getting ready to head out.

“Yes, well, Dean and Seamus’ Christmas get together is hardly the place for a tuxedo. Besides, I wouldn’t want you spilling Firewhiskey on anything that’s actually expensive.”

…

It turned out that ‘the place’ for a tuxedo was Lucius and Narcissa’s Christmas Eve Ball at Malfoy Manor.

Harry thought he looked altogether ridiculous, wearing such a fancy suit but having his untameable hair sticking out all over the place.

“Are you sure I look alright?”

Draco smiled. “Good enough to eat.” Harry wanted to protest more, but Draco pushed open the door to Malfoy Manor and then Harry was standing in front of Lucius and Narcissa.

“Oh, Harry!” Narcissa exclaimed. She pulled him in for a hug. “You look dashing tonight. That’s not the suit you usually wear, is it?” Narcissa said as she broke the hug.

Draco gave Harry a pointed look that said, ‘See? I wasn’t the only one who noticed.’

Harry just shook his head at Narcissa. “No, it’s new.”

“It’s from Paris,” Draco added.

…

It was Christmas Day, and Harry was wearing what Draco called a ‘casual suit’ to the Weasley’s Christmas lunch.

“I don’t think this is casual,” Harry said as he took his place next to Draco at the dining table. “Everyone else is wearing their Weasley Christmas jumpers.”

“Your Weasley Christmas jumper wasn’t available,” Draco said primly.

“That’s because you’re wearing it!” Harry tugged on Draco’s sleeve to emphasize that.

“Yes, I am. You have to admit, it looks better on me.”

“Everything looks better on you. This suit would look better on you.”

Draco sighed. “I suppose that’s true. But you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“Prat.”

“Git.”

“Pillock.” “Come on, Potter. You know you love me.”

“Unfortunately, I do.”

…

“I’m proud of you,” Draco said as he carded his fingers through Harry’s hair while Harry’s head rested on his lap. They were back at home on their couch in front of the fireplace, and Christmas was nearly over. “You didn’t repeat any outfits at all this year.”

Harry chuckled and pressed his head closer to Draco’s hand. “Hold on, I thought we had six events. We’ve only been to five.”

“Well done, Potter. You’ve finally learned how to count.”

“Is there a sixth event? Please tell me there’s not another suit.”

Draco grinned. “Not exactly. The sixth suit is your birthday suit. And the sixth event starts in five minutes in the bedroom.” Draco promptly stood up, leaving Harry alone on the couch, and headed upstairs to their bedroom. Harry watched him go with wide eyes. “That is the cheesiest thing you’ve ever done, you know that?” “Who cares? You coming or not, Potter? You know, I could always celebrate the event on my ow-”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Harry made it to the bedroom in nearly a second flat.

[autolovecraft]

I'd hate to have it aimed at me!

Would the firm Fenner casket have caved in so readily? Being without superstition, he did not heed the day at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the emerging moon must have witnessed a horrible sight as he dragged his bleeding ankles toward the cemetery lodge; his fingers clawing the black mold in brainless haste, and his body responding with that maddening slowness from which one suffers when chased by the phantoms of nightmare.

Three coffin-heights, he reckoned, would permit him to reach the transom; but he could do better with four. He could not walk, it appeared, and the source of a task whose performance deserved every possible stimulus. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them. You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he stepped on the puppy that snapped at him a succession of shuddering whispers that seared into the bewildered ears like the hissing of vitriol. Birch seldom took the trouble to use—afforded no ascent to the space above the door. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the latch of the great door yielded readily to a touch from the outside. It was Asaph's coffin, Birch, and I don't blame you for giving him a cast-aside coffin, but you got what you deserved. In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made.

It was generally stated that the affliction and shock were results of an unlucky slip whereby Birch had locked himself for nine hours in the receiving tomb of Peck Valley; and was a very calloused and primitive specimen even as such specimens go.

He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives.

For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. As he planned, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made.

For the long-neglected latch was obviously broken, leaving the careless undertaker trapped in the vault, a victim of his own oversight. The pile of tools soon reached, and a hammer and chisel selected, Birch returned over the coffins to the door. Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks. Birch.

Instinct guided him in his wriggle through the transom, and in the crawl which followed his jarring thud on the damp ground. I'll never get the picture out of my head as long as I live. Birch, just as I thought! The air had begun to be exceedingly unwholesome; but to this detail he paid no attention as he toiled, half by feeling, at the heavy and corroded metal of the latch.

You know what a fiend he was for revenge—how he ruined old Raymond thirty years after their boundary suit, and how he had distinguished it from the inferior duplicate coffin of vicious Asaph Sawyer. The narrow transom admitted only the feeblest of rays, and the degree of dignity to be maintained in posing and adapting the unseen members of lifeless tenants to containers not always calculated with sublimest accuracy. An eye for an eye!

Dusk fell and found Birch still toiling. Clutching the edges of the aperture. Three coffin-heights, he reckoned, would permit him to reach the transom; but gathered his energies for a determined try. Sawyer in their last illnesses. His thinking processes, once so phlegmatic and logical, had become ineffaceably scarred; and it was pitiful to note his response to certain chance allusions such as Friday, Tomb, Coffin, and words of less obvious concatenation. Only the coffins themselves remained as potential stepping-stones, and as he considered these he speculated on the best mode of transporting them.

When Dr. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb.

He had not forgotten the criticism aroused when Hannah Bixby's relatives, wishing to transport her body to the cemetery in the city whither they had moved, found the casket of Judge Capwell beneath her headstone. The borders of the space were entirely of brick, and there seemed little doubt but that he could shortly chisel away enough to allow his body to pass. Birch was glad to get to shelter as he unlocked the iron door and entered the side-hill vault. The undertaker grew doubly lethargic in the bitter weather, and seemed to outdo even himself in carelessness. His head was broken in, and everything was tumbled about. He had even wondered, at Sawyer's funeral, how the vindictive farmer had managed to lie straight in a box so closely akin to that of the diminutive Fenner. The afflicted man was fully conscious, but would say nothing of any consequence; merely muttering such things as Oh, my ankles! Clutching the edges of the aperture, he sought to pull himself up, when he noticed a queer retardation in the form of an apparent drag on both his ankles. Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. In either case it would have been appropriate; for the unexpected tenacity of the easy-looking brickwork was surely a sardonic commentary on the vanity of mortal hopes, and the overhead ventilation funnel virtually none at all; though ever afterward he refused to do anything of importance on that fateful sixth day of the week. Fortunately the village was small and the death rate low, so that it was possible to give all of Birch's inanimate charges a temporary haven in the single antiquated receiving tomb. At any rate he kicked and squirmed frantically and automatically whilst his consciousness was almost eclipsed in a half-swoon. After a full two hours Dr. Davis left Birch that night he had taken a lantern and gone to the old receiving tomb. He always remained lame, for the great tendons had been severed; but I think the greatest lameness was in his soul. The practices I heard attributed to him would be unbelievable today, at least to such meager tools and under such tenebrous conditions as these, Birch glanced about for other possible points of escape. God, what a rage!

[imaginemexo]

Josh Washington x Reader - Make It Out Alive

Request: an Until Dawn imagine where Josh isn’t the psycho, theres an actual psycho on the mountain. Josh and Reader have to try and make it out alive

Words: 1,973

Josh was in hospital for months, in and out, back in and then out again, for months after the disappearance of Beth and Hannah. Intoxicated on prescribed medicines and drugs; murmuring inaudible, incohesive sentences.

The only thing that anybody could understand was when Josh repeated one particular word. Over and over again. Creature.  

Other than the Washington family visiting him irregularly, the only other person to pay him a mere ten minute visit was his childhood best friend, Y/N. She was oftentimes busy most days, but popped in around four times a week. Just to let him know that nothing had changed between them. Just to let him know that the world would soon fall back into place and natural routine.  

Once Josh was beginning to mend, the cogs in his brain starting to work again, Josh sat in his room, all alone, suffocating on the stillness. He’d devise plans, mindmap every single concept that entered his brain. Wondered how he could make his friends repay him for what they caused.

Josh was asleep the night of the disappearance. He didn’t know if anyone was at fault. He didn’t know if it was anyone’s fault at all.  

Maybe it was just something that happened.  

Josh looked well.

It had been just under two months since Y/N had last seen Josh. The last she’d heard was that he was fresh out of hospital and found a new rejoice in life. Bob and Melinda Washington claimed that he’d found a newer, fresher, better therapist and had “cured” him from the evil demons living like parasites inside of his brain. Apparently, Josh found it in himself to accept the truth. Josh found it in himself to forgive anyone who may or may not have been involved in the disappearance of his sisters.

He was a new person.

There was a dewy glow on his skin; a sense of being; a sense of happiness.

A newfound hope.

I watch my best friend mindlessly chatter to Chris; one of my other good friends, though, just slightly misses out on the cut on having the best friend title. She looks happy and relieved to be back in our company; though I can see the uncertainty radiate off of her by being back to this place.

“Hey, cochise.” I say, approaching them. I attack them both with a hug, pulling them close. There’s a warmth that I have never felt before; a sense of…normalcy.  

“Josh,” My friends say in unintentional unison. They laugh together, shaking their heads.  

Chris seems slightly uncomfortable; the lopsided grin and unimpressed look plastered on his face.  

Y/N almost seems shocked; mouth slightly ajar, eyes wide. “Josh…you look so well. Better. Healthy, I mean.”

“I’ve gained a lot of weight. I think that’s the only thing that has changed.”  

My best friend scoffs and rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be stupid! You’re a whole new person.”  

Chris soon interrupts. “Where’s everybody else?”  

I tear my eyes away from Y/N, who looks like a new identity herself. “They’re all at the lodge.”

Chris adjusts his backpack, evidently unnerved. He says nothing and sludges through the blanket of snow, already paces in front of us.  

Y/N turns to me, a frown playing on her lips. “Don’t worry, bro. It’s not you. I can tell that’s what you’re thinking,” She seems equally as disconnected and distant. “We’ve both been really unsure whether or not to come back. It didn’t feel right.”

Will it ever feel right?

Two o'clock in the morning soon hit.  

We shared stories and memories as if they happened yesterday.

A lot was revealed.  

None of us drank. It was surprising to feel no irresistible urges. Especially due to the fact that after last year, I suffered with a lot of alcohol and drug issues. I would neglect my health so much with substance abuse that I wouldn’t even be able to recall the events of that night. It was relieving. I would get so inebriated that I wouldn’t even remember my name. It was relieving that I could be someone else for a small period of time.  

We stayed up late, blabbering on about life, respecting my sisters who are long gone. I found out that a lot had happened while I was in hospital. A lot happened for those around me while I was extremely ill.  

Chris and Jess entered an exclusive relationship just three months after Hannah and Beth vanished. Matt got accepted to a local University majoring in a sporting degree. Jess was eventually assigned to a modelling agency. Michael and Emily got married.

Ashley and Sam…nobody knows what happened to them. I hear everyone only speak highly of them, though, no-one’s heard from them since that night one year ago. I can imagine that they drifted apart and they went their own ways.  

Y/N moved away three months ago, which is why her visits at the hospital became less frequent. I didn’t know. She said she tried to explain it to me whilst I was in hospital, but apparently I was in a fugue state for the majority of the visits, and no information was properly registered.

But I do remember the empty room. I remember the crayons. I remember the silence. I remember the feeling of loneliness. I remember the sense of abandonment. I thought she wasn’t coming back. I thought she left me.  

I remember my last session with Dr. Hill as if it were yesterday.  

He asked me if I know what the butterfly effect is.

I remember his words precisely, Josh, in a parallel universe, somewhere very far away, there is a version of you and your friends. In that parallel universe, the same events happened. Your sisters are gone in that universe. Except, in that universe, you did not make this vast recovery. You stayed trapped. And in that universe, things were different for your friends too. Maybe Emily and Mike will break up in that universe, and Mike will fall in love with Jessica. Your recovery right now affects everything. Your recovery right now affects those around you. Maybe your recovery will change everyone’s life. That’s the butterfly effect.  

All of a sudden, I wake up.

A scream is what has woken me up; a blood-curdling howl.  

I look to my side. Y/N is awake. She’s violently shaking, cheeks stained with tears.

She places her finger over her lips, almost incoherently shushing me.  

“Don’t move.”  

We lay there for what feels like hours. Shrieks of panic and blasphemy.  

And then, nothing.  

The nothing is then followed by a large slam. And then, once more, nothing.  

Footsteps are heard crunching through the snow, and that’s when I know we’re safe. For now.  

Stealthily, I clamber out of bed and tip-toe to the window. The sky is the colour of coal, yet, the only illuminating light source coming from the security light outside. I can merely make out a small lump of something; a rigid mess.  

One figure, inhumanly tall and thin, walks away into the distance, hands clutched onto two separate objects, dragging them away through the snow.

“What is going on?” I turn to my best friend, my voice laced in authority and almost anger.  

“I don’t know, Josh!” She calls out, but quiet enough to stay safe. “I woke up to the screaming. It was on and off maybe five minutes before you woke up. It came out of nowhere.”  

The confusion dawns on me quickly. My eyes brim with tears.  

I hold myself.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”  

Y/N abruptly jumps up from the bed. She approaches me and stops in front of me. “Don’t worry, Josh, it’ll be okay. We just have to have a look downstairs. I’m sure it’s a prank or something.”

There’s a horrid, unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. “It’s not a prank.”  

“Is this a bad time to say I told you so?”

“Oh, shut up, Josh.”  

My mind flashes back to the ungodly sight before us. The pile of rigid bodies outside sat in the snow. Skin was stripped off of their bodies and their eyeballs were missing.  

My friends. Our friends, I mean.  

Dead.  

“What now?” I ask, unable to comprehend any of it.  

“We find a way out of this mess,” she answers. “Or we wait until dawn.”  

All we have to do is make it out alive.

We sit in the stables; cottonballs of snow streaming down from the nighttime sky. We’re wrapped up in a humongous blanket, backs pressed against the counterfeit cedar wood. We’re freezing to death yet returning to the lodge seems too unsettling. Just in case whoever did this has returned.  

It has all happened so quickly.

We have not shared a word in a long while. I wonder if she’s mad at me.  

She exhales loudly, fog before our eyes.  

“Josh, I have something to tell you.”  

I look at her in the corner of my eye, and I don’t say a word.  

I listen to her quietly sob, face scrunched up. I can see and feel her pain as if it is tangible and sat right in front of me.  

“I killed Hannah and Beth.”  

Immediately, there is hurt. And betrayal.  

“What are you talking about?”

She shakes her head, unable to look at me.  

“I mean, I didn’t kill them. I’m not a murderer,” I can hardly understand her through the tears. “It’s my fault they’re missing.”  

I can’t even form a real thought inside of my head. “What do you mean?”

“You know when Hannah was still alive, she was head over heels for Mike?” She asks. I hum in response, shifting away from her slightly. “I thought of this really horrible plan. It was meant to be light-hearted. Hannah took it too seriously, and she left the lodge. Beth followed her. And out of guilt, I went after them. I thought they were in danger, there was a man who was stalking them there. They got to the edge of the cliff, and I don’t know if he was trying to make sure they fell, or help them up, but I heard them scream and then there was nothing. I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do. And then I was attacked. But not by the man. By a being. It wasn’t human. I remember clouded eyes, and sharp teeth. Then I woke up in the lodge. I came to you every day I wasn’t busy. I told you about the being that attacked me, and you seemed to understand what I was talking about. I showed you the scar that it left me with every time, and you all you could say was creature. Creature, creature, creature – that’s all you ever said. I thought maybe I could crack the mystery of this mountain your Dad always used to talk about. But it was useless. That’s why I left Josh, that’s why I moved away. It was killing me to see you like that. It was killing me that I didn’t know the truth.”

I remember the haunting, continuous nightmare as a child. I remember waking up in cold sweats when I was young. I hated coming here. I used to say it was the creature. The creature would get me. The creature would hurt me.  

The creature would kill us.  

I have nothing to say.  

“I always loved you, cochise. I still do,” she says. “The feelings never went away.”  

I open my mouth to respond, I open my mouth to confess my undying love, when I hear earth-shattering thumps draw close.  

I quickly remove my eyes away from my best friend, and first love, and towards the entrance of the stables.  

A large being; broad and hideous.

Creature.