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jerzwriter · 1 year

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Karma is... a Barbie Premiere (1/2)

I completely blame @jamespotterthefirst for this! It started as a simple edit, then it became a gossip page, and now it's a full-blown fic.

I've long hinted about Dr. Eva Mendoza joining as an OC in my Tobias & Casey world. She's only been briefly introduced once, but what better way to bring her back than for the Boston premiere of the Barbie movie? 💄💗💋 It's definitely a date for the Carrick's, but what about their friends, Ethan & Eva? No one can get a straight answer, and rumors are swirling.

Part 1 of fic below.

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairings: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Ethan Ramsey x F!OC (Eva) - Maybe? Rating: Teen Words: 1,700 Summary: Tobias scores tickets to the biggest event in Boston, and he & Casey each invite a friend. When they learn who each invited, the wheels start spinning. A/N: See above. It's all Bree's fault. lol. This is just a two-parter, and part two will be up later tonight. This was fun, I hope you enjoy it, too! Participating in @choicesflashfics (prompt in bold below)

Part 2 found here

It had been a brutally hot summer in Boston, leaving most residents eager for something to do indoors just to keep cool. That included the doctors at Edenbrook. So Casey was elated when Tobias told her he scored four tickets to the event of the summer, a premiere of the Barbie movie being held by a local charity. She had told him she didn’t mind missing it, but her reaction when he said they’d be going proved otherwise.

“So,” he smiled between breaths as Casey rolled off him and snuggled into his side. “I’m glad to see you really didn’t want to go.”

“Oh, stop,” she giggled with a playful shove. “You know we would have done that anyway.”

“Good point,” he agreed. “Now, who should we offer the other tickets to?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we each pick a friend?”

“Bryce would be all over this, but he’ll be in Hawaii that week.”

“Same with Sienna. That’s the week she’s visiting her family. Jackie would rather have food poisoning.”

“I think you’re right about that,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll think of someone.”

_____

But with the movie premiere just a week away, neither had picked anyone to go, and they made a pact to correct that by the end of the day.

Casey was reading an article on her phone in the cafeteria when she heard a familiar voice. Desperate for adult conversation that didn’t involve medicine, she eagerly waved Eva over.

“Hey,” the stunning brunette smiled as she approached Casey’s table. “I saw you, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I thought this might be your only alone time.”

“Nah,” Casey smiled. “Tobias is a great hubby... he makes sure I breathing room when I need it. But what I need now is some mindless girl talk! I haven’t had that in ages!”

“Oh, wonderful,” Eva sighed. “I’ve never been terribly good at mindless girl talk, but I promise I’ll give it my best shot. What are we supposed to discuss? Boys? Make-up? Waxing?”

“No, silly!” Casey laughed. “It can be anything... just not work and nothing too serious. Like, tell me, do you have any summer plans?”

“Mmm, not really,” Eva replied, biting into her sandwich. “My first anniversary at Edenbrook is in September; I don’t have much vacation time until then.”

“Well, that sucks! I hope you’re doing some fun things anyway.”

“Oh, I am! I love exploring Boston. I’ve been going to a bunch of concerts and rollerskating in the parks... It’s sort of my thing!”

“Now, that is something I’d love to do with you!”

“You rollerskate!” Eva enthused.

“Ice skating is more my thing, but... transferable skills. I’m going to have to get a new pair of rollerskates. The last ones I owned were Barbie skates to show you how long it’s been.”

“So... last year,” Eva chuckled. “Sorry, you strike me as a woman who would wear Barbie rollerskates even now. And I don’t mean that as an insult.”

“Mmm,” Casey hummed. “GUILTY! But it really was some time ago.” Then, a lightbulb went off. “Hey! Wait! Were you a Barbie girl growing up?”

“Not exactly,” Eva sighed sadly. “I wanted to be. It’s so steeped in American culture; it’s a right of passage. But my traditional Greek and Cuban families felt they were too provocative. So, I only got to play with them when I visited my friends’ houses.”

“Well, that sucks!”

“I think my parents would have been OK with it, but my Abuela and Yiayia wielded far too much power with my Mother in those days. My father sneaked me off to the Barbie section when he took me to the toy store. He also encouraged playdates with Mindy Schumacker, and I believe her rivaling the Barbie Dreamhouse had something to do with it.”

“I think I’d like your Dad!” Casey smiled.

“I’m certain you would.”

“Well, I would be a failure as a physician if I didn’t do my part to help cure your Barbie Deficiency Syndrome! Tobias and I are going to the premiere at the IMAX next week, and I have a spare ticket. Want to join us?”

“Wait! Those tickets are impossible to get? How’d you score them?”

“My husband is a miracle worker,” Casey winked. “And he loves spoiling me.”

Eva shook her head. “I’ve known you a while now; I attended your wedding and witnessed that man being the most doting husband and father I’ve ever seen... but it’s still hard for me to reconcile that he’s the same man I knew back at Kenmore.”

“Well, love has a way of doing things to people. But I know he’d love it if you joined us. What do you say, are you in?”

“Oh, you couldn’t keep me away!”

_____

Tobias stepped into the Diagnostic Teams office, humming a song vaguely familiar to Ethan as he entered. Looking up from his paperwork, Dr. Ramsey feigned annoyance with his friend.

“I don’t understand how you’re always so chipper. You have a newborn and don’t sleep.”

“She’s three months old now, not a newborn.”

“Practically ready to go off to college then!” Ethan teased. “What were you humming... was that... Taylor Swift.”

Tobias raised a brow. “And what if it was? I have an excuse for humming it twenty-four/seven, and it’s called Casey. But what’s your story for knowing it?”

“Also, Casey! I’m trying to be supportive with her returning to work part-time, so I let her play the godforsaken stuff when we’re in here together.”

“She really can convince anyone to do anything, can’t she. Do you like any songs?”

"No."

Tobias stared at his friend with a wicked grin. "You always were a terrible liar. 'Fess up! What are your favorite Taylor songs?"

Ethan sat back in his chair and rocked as if deep in thought. “Some of her work from Folklore and Evermore is quite appealing. But if you tell Casey, I’ll fire you.”

“My lips are sealed,” Tobias laughed. “I heard you canceled your trip to the Cape. Everything all right? I’m happy to take over some of your work if you need help.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not canceled. Just delayed. I was foolish to plan it around budget time.”

Tobias rubbed his chin as he studied his friend, his concern growing. “You know, Ethan... I’ve been a little worried about you. I’m a new dad, and I do more fun things than you. You need to work some playtime into your life.”

“Please,” Ethan groused. “I hope you’re not suggesting another boys' night out with Lahela. I have neither the budget nor the energy.”

“You damn well do have the budget! As for the energy, I can see how it's hard at your age. But you have to push through.”

“I’m a year older than you!” Ethan reminded.

“But you act twenty-two years older!”

“I can’t help it if you’re immature,” Ethan countered with a grin.

“Say! Case and I are going to the premiere of the Barbie movie next week...”

“She has you so pecked,” Ethan chuckled.

Ignoring him, Tobias informed him he had an extra ticket, Ethan was coming, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I’m more of an Oppenheimer person. Barbie isn’t exactly my thing.”

“I don’t care; you’re coming.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Fine,” Tobias grinned, picking up his phone and pretending to dial. “I hate to do this, but you leave me no choice.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m letting Casey know how much you loved Folklore and Evermore. I’m even going to fabricate and tell her you’re experimenting with Midnights; she should play that for you on her next shift. Don’t worry, Ethan. You’ll love it!”

“Hang up that phone right now,” Ethan ordered.

“Too late!” Tobias smirked. “Casey, baby, how’s your day going? Guess who's coming with us to see Barbie? Ethan! I know it’ll be a blast. See you at home soon, hon.”

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

“Hey, it’s joining us at the Barbie movie once and maybe... gasp... having some fun... or listening to Taylor on loop for the remainder of time. I think you made a wise choice, Ethan.”

“I didn’t make a choice!”

“Oh, you did,” Tobias winked as he left the room. “You’ll need to wear something pink!” he hollered as he entered the hall.

“I don’t own anything pink!”

“Good, you have time to fix that!”

_____

Tobias opened the front door to his home and couldn’t help but smile. Casey stood just beyond the foyer, holding little Sammy on her hip as they danced to The Temptation's “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg.”

“Look!” Casey beamed, pointing towards him. “Daddy’s home! Now he can dance with us, too!”

“You better believe I am,” Tobias grinned. He took Sammy from Casey, then wrapped his arms around her hips. “I’m so glad you’re giving our daughter a balanced musical diet. It can’t be all Taylor, all the time.”

“Hey, my love of Motown is what sealed the deal and made you fall in love with me,” Casey said, kissing his cheek.

“Heh,” Tobias snickered. “It certainly impressed me, but that wasn’t what sealed the deal.”

“Oh, really, then what did?”

“Not in front of the baby, dear,” he grinned. “But hey, speaking of Taylor Swift, your fellow fan at work is joining us at the Barbie movie next week.”

“My fellow fan? I told you Sienna is away next week.”

“I know, but I’m talking about Ramsey.”

“ETHAN? Ethan is coming with us to the Barbie premiere?”

“Yeah,” Tobias replied. “He really needs to expand his horizons. I hope it’s OK with you.”

“Of course! It’s just... he doesn’t seem like the Barbie type.”

“He’s not,” Tobias laughed. “But we’re going to have so much fun with this. I even told him to wear pink!"

"We're going to have fun, for sure! But Ethan? The jury is out on that. There’s just one tiny problem, babe. I asked Eva to come along.”

Tobias’s face fell. “Oh, shit. They’re totally going to think we’re trying to hook them up.”

“Which we’re not,” Casey replied. “I mean, I would... but this wasn’t our intention.”

“Maybe not,” Tobias smirked. “But you know... me and karma vibe like that.”

“T.,” Casey said, shaking her head. “Please leave inserting Taylor quotes into situations to me... but... we are going to have so much fun with this!”

Tobias jiggled Samantha on his lap. “You hear that, Sammy? Your Mommy’s got ideas in that head. No one is safe now.”

Part 2 found here

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#ethan ramsey #tobias carrick #open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #ethan ramsey x ?#tobias carrick x f!mc

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nerodreamblog · 2 years

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My partner and I were living in a small, dingy apartment. It was nighttime and we could see the grocery store from across the street so we decided to walk to it to pick up some stuff.

We went to go pay and I decided, despite the fact that it's cold, I wanted some ice cream. My partner said I could go find some so I wandered off.

Went through the registers thinking maybe they sold ice cream in those little fridges.

I ran into a young, cute, East Indian girl working the cash register where she sold Chaco Tacos (those were discontinued though), but in order to get one, I had to ask her and she looked very busy with a long line.

Unfortunately there's a gap in my memory at this part. I somehow ended up in one of those registers near the front entrance of the store. The one that sells lotto tickets and cigarettes.

There were a couple young Black men. One worked behind the register and his friend. The friend was really tall, like 6' 4".

The smaller man asked me if I was not fully White to which I laughed nervously and said "yeah, Hispanic on my mom's side."

He told me I should be careful. I can't go around acting and doing stuff like I'm White.

I laughed again, putting a hand to my head. "Oh no, am I that clockable?" ("Clockable" mostly being used in the context for being visibly trans, but I guess my brain thought it transferred to being White Passing.)

Smaller Black man told me yeah and I should be careful for racists. I told him I would and walked away to find my ice cream.

Ended up in the clearance section and found a bunch of interesting cereal with popular cartoon characters on popular children's cereal. I thought about getting some, but nothing really stood out to me.

There were also some Spider-man toys for a reduced price but nothing I really wanted.

Eventually I found the frozen foods section and circled around, dodging people and trying to find something I might like. I circled around twice each aisle, one to see the shelves and one to see the small crates carrying single ice cream bars, but nothing I really wanted.

Finally, I found myself at the very back of the store where they held an aquarium and zoo. The lights were really dark except for the lights used in the displays. All the animals were kept behind glass.

I first saw the baby tapirs. I only saw the one and cooed at it. Then another who was sleeping in the sand popped out and started wrestling the first the way puppies do.

Then I spotted a big shark. Sized between a Great White and a Megalodon. It was massive with a big jaw that seemed to swallow everything. There were little fish in its path and all it needed to do was open up and the fish fell in.

Next I saw what I can only describe as a giant black dog swimming in the tank. It had one of those old man faces and was covered in seaweed. It was a strange creature and I tried to get closer to the display to read more about it, but several children blocked the way. I decided I'd take a few photos instead but instead of using my camera, I had this... Tube of water? With a + button on it and it was very difficult to press the button. And because it was so dark all the photos were blurry. I got frustrated because I knew no one would believe I saw the strange dog.

I think there was also a giant squid in the tank.

Soon, the lights in the store started to dim, signalling it was closing time.

I panicked and headed for the exit and then I woke up.

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gucciwins · 4 years

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it’s your birthday?

As luck would have it you once again find yourself in a breakout room with Harry

Word count: 3296

A/N: Hello friends, it’s a new semester and it felt only right to continue breakout room, a story that was well loved by you. The inspiration once again came to me during class and also because it’s Harry’s birthday. Thank you to the lovely @soullikestyles for reading this over. Here it is, enjoy!!!

I hope you love this, it is a continuation from Breakout Room

Please shoot me a message of what you thought!!!!

i love you, take care xx

_____

It's the start of a new semester. It's safe to say you did not make any friends last semester due to this ongoing pandemic, but what you did manage to get was a 3.9 G.P.A for the Fall semester. It was probably because you did not leave your apartment, and when you did, it was to go grocery shopping with your roommate, who would be dead without you because, as she liked to put it, you're the chef, and she's the taster.

Well, you maybe did make one friend.

Harry Styles.

He was the person to talk to you during a zoom breakout room in your women's gender studies course.

Sure, you were never in the same room again, but you might or might not have pinned his face during one of the professor's long ramblings that is no longer related to the course.

He was pretty to look at; you would never deny that.

No, with the floppy curls that he almost always seemed to run his hand through, then stopping when one of his rings got caught in a knotted ringlet. His camera would instantly turn off, and in thirty seconds, he was back as if nothing had happened. The glasses framed his face just right, making his eyes look soft and inviting. Also made his dimples stand out. He almost always wore a different colored cardigan. Your favorite from the semester was when he wore a multicolored cardigan. That looks like it was knitted; there was a hole by his heart. Honestly, you were hoping he had, would have made him even more endearing.

Also, might one day ask him to make you one, or he could even teach you. You're a fast learner and have patience.

He's got a great choice in clothing from what you was able to observe in such a short time—also a lovely personality.

After his initial email, you decided to answer, thus creating a chain of messages back and forth. He was honestly funny, and that was just on paper. He had asked for her number and said no, and he respected that. It doesn't mean they never helped each other in the class; Harry asking for more help than Y/N. She sent him over her notes and explained the readings he found harder to grasp.

As soon as finals week hit, she received her last email from him with the subject as Goodbye. It took you by surprise, and you erased the draft you had waiting for him that had your phone number wanting to keep talking to him. Still, clearly, he thought of them as just classmates for the semester, so without even opening his last email, you trashed it.

You felt guilty about it, so you then transferred it to your archives, where it sits with other unwanted emails.

_____

The holidays are over, and since you could not make the trip home, you celebrated with Amy, your roommate. You both help each other buy your family's presents, looking for the best discounts and adding extra items to get the free shipping. Together, well, mostly you as she handed you pieces of tape you wrapped present after present in brown wrapping paper. It was harder to tear and more comfortable to decorate in any way you wanted. On each box, it had everyone's name written in beautiful handwriting, courtesy of you. Then you would add snowflakes or stripes to make it stand out.

It was a success from their looks when each gift was open through the zoom call.

The month break flew by, and the next thing you knew, it was time to be back at your desk for hours of learning. It was fun until it wasn't sure there was a lot to look forward to, but you would miss sleeping all day and eating snacks in bed with no fear of forgetting to submit an assignment.

This semester you had four major courses. Psychology of Personality and Psychology of Aging were the two courses you were most looking forward to. You decided on taking the women's gender studies class called Politics of Sexuality. You had gotten the recommendation from the department's head to take it and did so without a second thought. Yes, fifteen units was a lot, but you were close to graduating, and you knew you could handle it.

The first week flew by because it was merely going over the syllabus. You had your camera on, but you did not bother to look at your other classmates. Sasha, a fellow person in your major, would be your study partner as she had been all semester. Sasha might not always be in the class section, but she did take the same professors and courses. It makes studying and taking notes easier. You know you won't always have Sasha, but having a study partner has ever made you do better.

February 1st. The start of the second week of the semester.

You woke up at seven, got the tea that Amy had ready for you, and were sitting at your desk by eight. Your professor droned on about the first chapter of the book. You felt confident knowing you understood the significant points.

It's 11:30, and your second course of the day is going to start. You were not looking forward to the class simply because Dr. Rossi had warned you he would be putting you into breakout rooms of two. That person would be your partner for the semester. You had a project due at the end of the semester, and he wanted you to be acquainted with someone rather than having a person working alone.

You sat there, Baby Yoda ceramic mug in hand, as you waited for your breakout room to load and to see who you were destined to work with for the next fourteen weeks.

There was a knock on your door that distracted you from seeing the video of someone else load.

"Sorry, I know you're in class, but I was wondering when lunch was to see how big of a snack I should have." Amy shoots you a small smile.

"No worries, Ames, I'm out at 12:45 and will need half an hour to cook, so roughly 1:30. Is that okay?" You tell her feeling a little awful, making her wait.

"It's perfect. Have a good class." Amy shuts the door.

As you hear the click, you turn back to your computer, and they're staring at you in a lavender cardigan with a white shirt underneath is the one and only Harry Styles.

His curls are shorter, meaning he recently got a haircut, and they are just growing back. You wished he had let it grow out, wanting to see how much more ruly they would have gotten.

You feel your face heat up, remembering you did not do your hair, instead of letting it sit messily in a low ponytail, small hair framing your hair. You were sure the black sweatshirt you had one had a hummus stain but too afraid to look down to check. You weren't even aware he was in this class; it shows you should be paying attention more to your classmates.

He shoots you a small smile, and you grimace, trying to force one out, but you're still a bit shocked.

You see his microphone go white, meaning he was about to speak. You leaned forward in anticipation, a bit desperate to hear his smooth accent through your computer speakers.

"Hello, it's been a while." Harry raises his glasses to hold back his hair.

You reach forward and unmute yourself. "Hello, Harry. It has been a while. It's a new year and everything." You joke.

He chuckles, scratching his chin. You aren't sure what to do; it was never this awkward the first time you chatted.

"Guess we're partners, huh."

"Apparently." You sigh, a bit loud, forgetting he can hear you.

"Ouch, don't need to sound too excited." He tells you not at all hiding his frown.

"No, I didn't." You stop not knowing how to go back from that. "Sorry, that was rude of me."

He nods, not saying anything more, and you take it as a sign to continue.

"I-i, well, after our last class ended, I figured that was that. You said goodbye in the last email, so I figured that was the end of our friendship, if you can even call it that."

"I thought my email would give the opposite impression, but not everything can translate as smoothly when talking." He tells you, which causes you to pause.

"Your email literally said goodbye," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

He hides his smile, "My subject said goodbye, the content said quite the opposite. You did read it, right?"

You duck your head, not allowing yourself to meet his eye even through a computer screen, too embarrassed to be caught. "Well, no, I didn't. Hurt my feelings, just seeing the goodbye." You look up and see his eyes soften, giving you just a bit more courage to continue. "I've always struggled to make friends, I have like three good friends, and it's hard putting myself out there, and I didn't actually if you considered me a friend or not."

"Y/N" He breathes out your name.

You stop him before he can continue. "Do you mind if I read it now?"

Harry shakes his head.

You restore down the zoom and open up your Gmail on the split-screen. You find it reasonably quickly; you look up at him to see him patiently sitting back chipping at his nails. They are a pastel yellow; it makes you smile, knowing just yesterday you went from that color to a deep red.

[email protected]

Subject: Goodbye

Y/N,

It's been enjoyable emailing back and forth. I honestly would not have passed this class without you. I think you are brilliant and if I had you in every course, I would finish with A's in them all. So, thank you for having the patience to teach me.

Also, thank you for being my friend. I know we mostly talked about school work. Still, you did help me decide on what coat to buy for my sister, so I know that makes us friends, and I did help you get that switch for your little brother. (That was like trying to buy floor tickets for Lady Gaga.)

On another note, after emailing for twelve weeks, I was wondering if I could have your number. I would like the chance to give you a call and formally ask you on a date. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic, and dating is hard, but we can do zoom dates before we try in person.

I understand if it's a no, but I am really grateful to have met you.

Your friend (although I do want to try to be more)

Harry Styles

City Pointe Apt 32 (in case you want to send a care package, I would gladly return the favor)

"Oh, Harry," You inhale, "I'm so sorry."

"No worries." He shrugs.

You pause, thinking your next words. "I live in Rose Villa." Those were not the words you wanted to say, but you don't take it back.

"That's across the street from my building." He gasps. "We could have run into each other."

You nod. "Small world."

Harry brings his focus back to something you skipped over. "I realize you didn't mention the part of asking you on a date."

"Oh, I figured you over that now. It's been well over a month since I ignored your email." You grimace, starting to feel awful about it all over again.

"I guess it was email abandonment this time." He jokes.

You laugh, and it gets Harry laughing as well. He was always good at that, making you laugh and not be so serious even if he didn't know it.

"Y/N," Harry's voice was strong, no signs of laughter in his trace. You lock eyes as best you can through a computer screen. "I would still very much like to take you on a date."

A date with Harry.

You want to say yes, but it's like you're frozen.

"Can I say something else before you give me an answer?" You nod, waiting for him to go on. "Sarah Jones, do you know her?"

Sarah Jones, you rack your brain trying to place her.

The theater composer. She's written original tracks for the theatre department for the original plays they've done and remakes. She's won countless awards.

Sarah even won the talent show. Played a killer drum solo that no one else could ever think of topping.

If you're honest, she's the definition of your girl crush.

"We follow each other on social media. We met at a paint night; she was really easy to talk to." You tell him, remembering how sweet she was to you when she saw you walk in, and just as you were about to walk out, she introduced herself to you, asking to sit with you.

He nods. "Sarah is my roommate's girlfriend. Mitch and Sarah practically live together; he's so in love with her it truly is the sweetest thing. Back to the point, she overheard me talking about you to Mitch and spoke how she knew you. Then I proceeded to stalk your Instagram on her account. I hope that's not weird."

You laugh, and it causes Harry to calm down, "Not weird at all. I would have done the same thing, but as you can see, I rarely upload anything."

"Well, the things you do have, I think, are wonderful." He rambles on explaining how your beach photo on a bike with a pretty pink basket was one of his favorites and how cute you look wearing sweaters.

As endearing as Harry was being, you decided to put him out of his misery. "Harry," you interrupt.

"Yes."

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You would?" He gasps in surprise.

"Yes."

"That's fantastic. I think this is the best birthday gift I could have received." He tells you, but you're stuck on the last thing he said.

"It's your birthday?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, Harry." You tell him softly, a big smile on your face.

A blush overtakes his face; you can tell he wishes to cover up his face with hands but holds back from doing so. "Thank you."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No, well. Mitch and Sarah are coming over for lunch in a bit. Then they are off to study at Sarah's for the week. Her roommates are gone for the week."

You frown, not liking that he'll spend the rest of his birthday alone.

"Would you-never mind" You stop yourself from being able to invite yourself over to celebrate with him?

"Hey, it's okay. Whatever you wanted to say, I wouldn't judge you, love." His voice was soft and reassuring.

"Well, I'd love to come over and hang out with you if that's okay. I can make us dinner, I make delicious enchiladas. Also, my carrot cake is to die for."

Harry is surprised at her offer but nods his head quickly. "That sounds wonderful, but you don't have to cook for me. We can order takeout."

She shakes her head. "Consider it my gift to you."

"Well, okay. Is six okay for you?" He bites his lip, not believing this is happening.

"Perfect."

You sit there smiling at each other.

When a message pops up overhead, "You have five minutes left before we join back as a group."

Your eyes go wide, having forgotten you were in class. "We didn't even discuss the assignment."

Harry shakes his head in laughter, a smile spreads over your face. He has an adorable laugh that just rings through your ears, and you can't wait to hear it in person.

"We've got time, now that it seems we'll be getting to know each other better."

You relax, settling a bit, you have weeks before the assignment is due.

"I'll email you my number, love. Easier to communicate for later."

"Sounds great." You respond.

_____

It's five-fifty, and you're standing outside his door. You're more than a little nervous. You're wearing high waisted jeans paired with a black off the shoulder top with floral embroidered sleeves. You decided against a sweater knowing the short walk would keep you warm enough. Your mask is red, with three small hearts stitched on the lower right side. Perfect for February.

You shift the items in your hand to the right and lift your hand up to knock. After three gentle knocks, you hear footsteps and take a step back.

"Hi," Harry breathes out, a big smile on his face.

"Hello, Harry, happy birthday."

"Thank you." He smiles wide, blessing you with his dimples. Definitely look better in person. "Please come in." He grabs some of the items from your hand and allows you to step in before locking the door behind you.

"Your mask is lovely. Did you make it?"

"I did!" You share excitedly. "My roommate, Amy, and I spent lots of our free time making a different kind. We took old shirts we no longer wanted and used for the material. It was a lot of trial and error, but we're pretty solid at it now. My embroidery could use some work, but I think it's lovely.

"It really is. Would you make me one?" He asks, staring at you as you pocket your mask. No longer needing it in his home.

"Yes, I'll send you pictures of the fabric I have, or you could come over, and I can teach you as well." You tell him, excited at the prospect.

"Sounds like a wonderful date." You nod, feeling your body get warm at the word date because today could also classify as a date.

Harry knocks you out of your head when calling your name. "Turned the oven on like you requested." He informs you.

"Thank you, my mom showed me how to make them, but I learned about the melted cheese on my own. She wasn't a big fan of it, but everyone else I know loves it, so I hope you will as well."

Harry grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sure it's wonderful." He bumps your shoulder gently. "Go finish up; I'll set the table."

He pushes you into the kitchen, and you go in and place your stuff. Harry is whistling, settling down on the table two glasses and two forks when you turn back around towards him.

Harry turns around just in time for you to wrap your hands around his waist. You fit perfectly in his arms, taking in his musky scent. "Happy birthday, Harry." You whisper against his chest.

He squeezes you tighter, leaning his head on top of yours. "Thank you, love."

He pulls back, holding you by your shoulders. A big smile on his face, you reciprocate it feeling his happiness warm your heart.

"Run along now; I'm starving." He jokes.

You walk backward, creating distance; as his left-hand trails down your right hand slowly until he's touching your fingertips, do you pull away. Although you, more than anything, wanted to hold his hand. You want to feel the weight of it in yours; you want to know if his hands are soft or calloused. How cool his rings will feel against your palm. All in due time.

"I'm happy to be here."

"Me too, love. Me too."

It's safe to say you were more than luckily going to have yourself a valentine for the first time in a long time.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fluff #harry styles fluff #zoom university #zoom online #harry styles writing #harry styles uni #my writing #harry styles fanfic

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charming-mage · 4 years

Text

The Search For Marinette Dupain-Cheng

This is my take on my prompt The Search For Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

You know, I always wondered about Marinette taking care of Akumas while overseas. If she takes too long, she’ll scare her loved ones half to death. Can’t rush too much or else she risks losing her miraculous because of it. Since no one is aware of her identity, she doesn’t have anyone to cover for her. Friends who are unaware of the truth will cover her for so long before they have to fess up.

In salt fics, the class usually doesn’t care where Marinette is on Gotham trips. Here, they give a shit.

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In which Lila messes with some signs and Marinette gets lost when she comes back late (via Kaalki) after dealing with an Akuma attack in France.

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The two week school field trip in Tokyo was supposed to be an enjoyable experience. There’s booked reservations at classy restaurants, a fancy hotel with a big pool, shows, and tours throughout Tokyo. Lila is most looking forward to the fashion expo. If she doesn’t do something soon, it looks like she’ll miss out on that too. Marinette been missing for two days and Lila is already sick of it.

All because she miscalculated in a spur of the moment plan.

“Marinetteeee! Where are you,” shouts a crying Alya. The girl spots a few tourists and shoves a flier in their faces. Nino joins in with his own fliers. “Have you seen my friend Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Cutest French girl you’ve ever seen with a heart of gold. So kind she’d innocently help a stranger, unaware they’re a bad guy.” The tourists each give a half hearted ‘no’ before speed walking away.

“Walk faster Lila! Marinette can be anywhere.”

Lila puts on a concerned mask. “Of course.”

All this time wasted just because she moved some signs.

She hadn’t meant for Marinette to go missing. Only to buy some time so she can guilt trip Adrien to be her partner for the fashion expo.

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The day before, the class went to a big nature park. It’s notable for its many trails. The deeper you went into the park, the denser the trees are. They all partnered up and to her dismay she got Nathaniel instead of Adrien. The best thing about the artist is that he gets so into drawing the sights he doesn’t notice when she wanders off. It gave her more time to plot how to switch partners with the least amount of fuss.

During one of her secret plotting sessions, she heard a very loud conversation farther down the trail she’s on. Rose shouts for Marinette to not split up, and Marinette screams back a blatant lie about wanting to see a moose in the Relaxation Trial. Also to not expect her for forty minutes. Total hypocrite this girl is. ‘We can only be friends if you stop lying.’ Sure, and it’s okay for only Marinette to lie. Everyone else who does so is bad. Can’t even tell Rose you honestly want to ditch her.

When Lila noticed the Relaxation Trail sign nearby, an idea formed in her head. She ducked into a bush to hide. When Marinette ran into the trail and her map fell out of her bag Lila burst into action.

It took a little adjustment to the multiple sign post. It wasn’t too hard as the signs on the pole were already a little loose. Just needed to switch the sign that led back to the meetup with the Reflection Trial sign. According to the map, the Reflection one is a winding trial leading to a dead end. Marinette would be forced to walk all the back as the park employees told them it’s easy to get lost if you go off the trial. Aside from putting some sticks on the map, it was left mostly alone as she wanted her rival to use it to get back to base. She may not have liked Marinette, but she didn’t want anything horrible to happen to her.

By the time it got dark, Marinette still hadn’t gotten back to the meetup point. Forty minutes had already flown by. Lila hadn’t noticed as she was trying to convince Adrien to switch partners and tell everyone it was his idea. If Marinette was here the noisy girl would have interfered.

Rose’s cry of alarm got the others to find out Marinette was missing. The goodie two shoes wasn’t answering Rose’s calls. A quick check near the Relaxation Trial sign revealed Marinette’s map had flown into a bush.

The field trip went downhill from there.

The police were called. Afterwards, it’s discovered the cameras in that area were down much to Lila’s relief. Even though she feels a bit responsible, she’s not admitting to anything. Even if she did confess, it’s not like it’ll help the police. Doing so will get her in huge trouble and gain scrutiny in her actions from then on. How will telling what she did help find Marinette? It’d be for nothing.

When it comes down to it, Lila’s self preservation is above Marinette’s well being.

Some good fun will keep her mind from unpleasant things. Too bad no one besides Lila is interested in the scheduled events. This is a vacation, so going to a few events is a must. The class just want to spend time searching for Marinette. The transfer student wouldn’t have minded hanging up missing posters or spreading the word. This class takes it to another level.

Every waking moment is spent looking for Marinette. Breaks become a treasured time. They walk many miles each day. Max posts missing posters in Japanese forums. Alya bothers the police for updates. Adrien even got Chole (who stayed in Paris) to pull some strings to get more attention in the local news.

Because of Marinette’s disappearance, they have to stay in groups of at least three. No exceptions. So if Lila wants to do anything, she needs to convince any group she’s in to go with her.

It’s more challenging than expected.

Day 5

"Hey guys, why don’t we take our break inside the museum we were supposed to go to? It has air conditioning and we can look at some stuff for a bit while we’re sitting down.”

“Sorry Lila, I’m not in the mood to admire art.”

“I agree with Nathaniel. Just doesn’t feel right.”

Day 8

“Let’s go on the sightseeing tour. We can look for Marinette while we’re on it.”

“No thanks.”

“Nah, a taxi is better as we can choose where to drive.”

Day 10

“.....my leg injury is acting up. It’s okay to leave me here. I don’t mind.”

“No way Lila. We’re not leaving you alone on a bench outside Universal Studios. What if we lose you too?”

“.............”

Day 11

Lila has had it with these people. Reservations and events have been canceled. Solemn, awkward moping. Refusal to do anything but looking for Marinette. The only event left is the one she’s been most looking forward to: the fashion expo. Through some maneuvering and sneakiness, no one remembered to cancel the expo tickets.

There’s no way in hell she wants to miss this event: a lecture by Edna Mode herself. There’s rumors circling the fashion industry the famous designer is going to explore a new clothing line. Along with finding a muse for it.

The previous class activities can be let go without much struggle. Not this one, though. This could be the golden ticket to a very prestigious job. Even more than being a Gabriel model.

There’s a chance things might go right this time. The group is filled by pushovers Adrien, Rose, and Juleka. As long as she stays firm, they’ll go along with her plan.

With the directions in mind, Lila manages to slyly maneuver the group to walk outside Tokyo Big Sight. The sight of the Edna Mode banners hanging outside the arena fills her with excitement.

Lila coughs for their attention. “Guys, it’s time for our lunch break. We need the energy to keep this up.”

Rose reluctantly says, “Oh you’re right Lila. Can you pass out our lunches please?”

“Sure thing.” She reaches into the bag and whoops. There’s conveniently no lunch bags in there. “Oh no guys, there’s only water bottles in here.”

“It’s okay Lila, we can buy some food nearby.” Rose digs out her phone. “Hmm... I think there’s a cheap fast food place nearby.”

“There’s no need to look far. We can just go into the expo. They have to have some food near the entrance.”

There’s silence at her words.

Juleka narrows her eyes. “Why do I feel you just want to go to the expo?”

Lila is surprised Juleka of all people is calling her out. “No, no. It’s just, why walk more when there’s food right here.”

“Lila, do you not care about finding Marinette?,” a sad Rose asks.

“How could you say that? Of course I do! We worked so hard and we deserve a break. Marinette would understand.”

Rose snaps. “Understand? Every minute counts! We might never see Marinette ever again. She could be injured and alone, kidnapped, or worse! If one of us was missing, she wouldn’t give up.”

The fire in Rose’s eyes startles Lila. Never thought she’d see the bubbly girl break her happy persona.

“No one said anything about giving up. Besides, the police are looking-”

“That doesn’t mean we should sit by and do nothing.” Rose tears up. “It’s my fault Marinette is gone. If I didn’t let her run off on her own, she would still be here.”

Juleka gives a comforting hug to Rose.

Adrien speaks up. “I know you don’t like Marinette, but I never thought you would sink so low. It’s one thing if you’re not interested in helping. It’s another to actively interfere in something our friends care about.”

“I d-d-o care. We can pick up search after we eat.” It’s not like Lila wanted to prevent them from searching for Marinette. Ms. Bustier has forbidden anyone from being on their own. So she needed someone to be with her in order to do something.

Lila spent so much time reassuring them, they missed the lecture.

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“---Breaking News! A French teenager stopped a missile launch by terrorists. Marinette Dupain-Cheng went missing during her class’ field trip. Miraculously, she disabled their base of operations, rescued a Princess, fought against pirates, escaped on the back of a deer, got their leader to surrender to the authorities-”

“That’s our every day Ladybug.” Alya hugs the TV with tears of joy. “Obviously she’d save the day while missing.” The reporter actually hissed when a stranger tried to tell her to stop hogging the TV. No one attempted removing her after that.

Since Ms. Bustier is currently with the police to bring Marinette back, there’s no one to reign in the partying classmates. Alix somehow convinced the hotel to give them a big complementary celebration cake.

The only person not celebrating is an angry Lila. Glaring at her phone, the headlines riles her up every time she sees it.

Edna Mode’s First Baby Fashion Line

The Inspiration Behind the New Designs

“My godson is my inspiration-”

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Jack-Jack is Edna’s muse. Lol.

To save you a google search, this park mentioned in this fic is made up. It’s based on a bunch nature parks I’ve been to before. Tokyo does have parks and nature trials, though. In case you missed it, an attack happened in the late afternoon and Marinette got back at night (when it got dark) in Japan Standard Time. Keep in mind there is a 8 hour difference between these countries.

With this completed, I can finish chapter two of Dupont’s Worst Nightmare. :)

#lila salt #lila rossi #miraculous ladybug #answeredprompt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #thesearchformarinettedupaincheng

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astralflower-writes · 3 years

Text

hey there!

♡ pairing: timeskip!sugawara koushi x female! reader

♡ genre: fluff

♡ warnings: none

♡ check out the haikyuu!! masterlist here

a/n: this got kinda long. but i hope you'll enjoy reading it! ♡

it's the day of the match between the adlers and the black jackals. and boy you expected the crowd to be less than this.

as you entered the arena you see countless of people walking past by each other. you tried to get through the people and look for the line for the onigiri you're co-teacher was telling you which was a 'must-try when you watch a jackals match.'

but as you were looking for the onigiri stand, you bump into the last person you expected.

"hey there y/n–sensei!"

"sugawara–sensei?"

the both of you were elementary school teachers. you first met suga when you got transferred back to miyagi a year ago. you didn't really had the chance to talk to him but that did not stop for you to not have a crush on him.

he was great at handling kids. and the kids love him too. he was so gentle and caring to everyone, and to you too.

"what are you doing here y/n–sensei?" he suddenly asked you. "to watch the match?" you replied.

he guided you to a less crowded part of the lobby. "never thought you'd be a volleyball fan though."

"oh... i don't really watch games. my mom gave me tickets so why not, right?" you replied, trying to look for the stand.

"are you looking for someone?" he asked you. "uh no. im actually looking for the onigiri stand yumeko–sensei told me."

"you mean onigiri miya?" he asked again, you not really remembering what your co-worker said, you just nodded thinking maybe it was the same. "my friends are actually lining up for those. i'll text them to order more for you." he added as he fished out his phone from his pocket.

"oh! thank you, sugawara–sensei." you said as you waited for him to finish.

"you can just call me suga." he said while scratching the back of his and letting out the small laugh which made you have a little crush on him.

"you can just call me y/n too, suga-san." you replied.

he motioned for the two of you to walk, "we actually know the owner of the stand."

"really?" you answered. the two of you were now walking in the lobby, you're not really sure where the both of you are headed but you know that he's guiding you through the crowd.

"we actually played volleyball with his team during nationals, when we were in high school."

"wait. you played volleyball? and the nationals?" you asked him in disbelief. "is it too good to be true?" he asked while sporting that warm smile.

"oh! no! i mean, that is so cool!" you replied happily.

the both of you stopped in front two men. one holding a plate of onigiri and the other is happily looking at the filling.

"y/n–san. these are my friends. daichi and asahi." he introduced you to both of the men, which he told you were his teammates in volleyball during high school.

the four of you started to talk about what were you guys doing in your daily lives. and you learned that sugawara was also the vice-captain.

"your a fan of kageyma, y/n–san?" asahi asked as he pointed out the little milk carton merch with kageyama's number on it. "oh this? kageyama's actually my—" you were interrupted by, you assumed as more of their friends.

suga being him, introduced you to them but you decided to find your seat and let them all catch up. so you bid farewell and thanks to them.

"woah! that's y/n?!" tanaka asked suga. "the one he likes?" kiyoko added.

"but i think she likes kageyama." suga sighed.

"maybe she's a fan of kageyama." asahi suggests trying to cheer up suga. "it's alright! there shall be no negative energy present!" suga said as he smacked asahi on his stomach.

the group made way to the stands, which to their surprise, you were there to.

you were on the phone talking to someone. "yeah mom. i'll meet him after the match. bye."

you were getting a little hot so you removed your first layer of many sweaters when you noticed suga and his group walking in the same row as you were sitting.

"hey. i can switch sits with you." daichi whispered.

the group seated themselves, with suga seating beside you.

"fancy seeing you again, y/n-san." he said as he made himself comfortable, eyeing your sweater before speaking again "i guess your really a fan of kageyama huh."

confused, looking at what your wearing, you see the little character of kageyama. "oh! no! i mean i kind am. but he's my—."

then suddenly the announcer started to speak. "kagyema's holding hands with a child! you don't see that often huh." one of suga's friends commented.

"who are you cheering for suga-san?" you asked trying to make small talk. "oh. none. two of our team mates are actually on, so it might be hard just cheering for one of them." he said while looking intently on the court.

as the game went on, you were surprised that he and his friends were cheering for kageyama and hinata, which you were familiar because you've seen the orange haired boy multiple times over at your place.

so you put two and two together, the two boys were their teamates.

"kageyama was on your team during high school suga-san?"

"yeah..."

"what a small world huh. kageyama, my cousin was my co-worker's team mate during high school." you said as you gazed down again at the court.

"cousin?" he asked. "yeah. our mom's are actually sisters and we grew up together too." you explained.

as the game went on, you talked to suga and asked him questions about volleyball stuff you don't know.

the match comes to an end, and you mentioned you're coming down to say hi to kageyama.

well, much to your satisfaction, suga came with you cause he said he'll ask kageyama for an autograph.

when both of you were done, suga got his autograph. both of you were walking out of the venue. "so...i'll see you at school?" you started.

"uh actually...would you like to go on a date with me?" he spoke, both of you were blushing. "y-yeah. i'd love that."

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #hq scenarios #hq imagines #sugawara koushi #sugawara fluff #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #astralflower-writes

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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

Text

enamel pins, school dances and summer movie nights

or: alternatively, i hate everybody but you

pairing: kiara carrera x rafe cameron (platonic)

warning: cursing, underage drinking, some fighting, rafe cameron being sappy because that deserves a tw of its own

word count: 7.2k words

MASTERLIST

"I’m so glad that they’re still doing this. Keep calm. Carry on," Kiara said to the boys as she stuffed the change from their tickets back into her wallet.

It would have been an understatement to say that JJ and Pope hadn’t been eager to attend the outdoor movie night hosted by the Island Club. In fact, they'd spend thirty minutes listing all the things they would rather do when Kiara proposed the idea. She'd let them grumble about going for the better part of an hour since she knew there was no way the pogues would let her go to something on Figure Eight alone. Pogues always had each other's backs, always. Kiara figured the least she could do was pay their entry fee. Plus, she knew JJ and Pope didn't exactly have extra cash laying around for movie nights.

She would have dragged all three of the boys with her but John B hadn't been back to the chateau all day. Since the cell towers were still down thanks to the hurricane, she could only guess where he was.

"Welcome to the summer movie series. All proceeds go to...." The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers as Kiara lead the boys to an empty space in the middle of the crowd.

"Back to OBX life. You know? Aren’t you guys glad that I made you come?" She really didn't have to ask, she was already sure of their answer.

"Ecstatic," Pope responded, his tone clearly lacking enthusiasm.

"My couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest," JJ echoed.

"We’re out of the green zone, man," Pope leaned over, commenting to JJ, out of earshot of Kiara. She didn't know about Topper's boat and Pope wasn't really interesting in bringing her in as another accessory to the crime.

"Dude, tranquilo, okay?" JJ whispered back.

"We're in the middle of Kooklandia. This is the last place I wanted to be."

"Shut up, Pope," JJ snapped, his wide eyes with warning. This was Kiara's thing, they weren't gonna let the Shakespearesque fued between Kooks and Pogues ruin her fun.

"Hey, uh…can I get two Pepsis, pleases?" Kiara asked the employee currently manning the snack bar.

"Sure," he replied.

Kiara slide the money for the sodas across the counter and took the cold drinks, watching Rafe slowly approaching from out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, Kie," Rafe said. Kie felt her pulse spike at a nickname he'd originally given her. "Hey, what’s up? How are you?"

"I’m fine," she replied, intentionally angling her body away from him, her gaze resting anywhere but on him. For someone whose presence she uses to be able to relax in, now the sight of Rafe put her on edge.

"Good, good. Um...Tell your boy that we know what he did." Rafe held her stare and Kiara couldn't stop her lip from curling up in contempt.

"Sorry, what boy are you talking about?"

"Uh, he’ll know." Rafe smiled as if this conversation was bringing him some wicked sense of pleasure.

Rafe opened his mouth as to say something else but Kiara turned away from him. "Bye," he called to her as she walked away.

"Douche," Kiara said, loud enough that she was sure he would still hear her. She threw a glance over her shoulder, feeling Rafe's eyes still watching her.

Kiara handed Pope a Pepsi. "Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy that we know what he did.' What is that?" She finished, handing JJ the second soda.

"Um...Where is he?" JJ asked back.

"Right there." Pope and JJ's heads turned around to look with her.

"Great the whole death squad," Pope said.

JJ grabbed the top of Pope's head, knocking his snapback off as he forced it forward. "Don’t stare, bro," JJ paused. "Just warning you, bro. If they corner me, I’m coming out swinging, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Pope agreed.

"Slice and dicin’. I’m on edge right now, okay? If that doesn’t work, I got this right here." JJ held up his worn backpack.

Fucking hell, Kiara thought. He brought the gun.

"Yeah, yeah. So, we just gotta stay in the group. They can’t come get us if we’re in the group," Pope remarked.

"Like a school of fish.”

"Stay in the school. Can’t leave the school. Stay in school," Pope repeated to himself.

"I’m sorry JJ…" Kiara interrupted. "Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there are kids."

"No Kie! I didn’t bring the gun. Everything’s fine, okay?" JJ assured, his frantic tone betraying him.

"Oh wow, thank you. That’s really convincing. I love that JJ." Kiara looked from JJ to Pope, trying to assess what kind of trouble they’d caused now. "Founding principle, you guys. No secrets amongst Pogues. What is Rafe talking about?"

Pope leaned it, bringing his face closer to Kiara's. "Kie, it might go down tonight."

"What does that mean?" Their vagueness was making Kiara extra suspicious. "'Might go down tonight.' What did y’all do?"

The boys look at each other, neither of supplying any answers to Kiara's questioning.

"Deny, deny, deny," JJ said quietly to Pope under his breath.

The opening score of The Addams Family cracked through the weathered speakers forcing an end to the conversation. A memory popped into Kiara’s head before she had time to stop it. This was Sarah Cameron’s favorite movie. Sarah used to mouth the lines along with the actors every time they watched it together.

There were a lot of glamorous parts of being best friends with the Kook-queen Sarah Cameron. When they walked down the shiny hallways of the Kook Academy literally arm-in-arm peoples' heads turned and watched them go by. All the mean girls with their once snarky remarks were suddenly complimenting Kiara's "unique style," begging her to tell them where she bought her clothes. (In truth, most of it was actaully thrifted since that was much more eco-friendly.) Plus there was the way Sarah swiped her Daddy's black card without a second thought. Kiara’s family lived on Figure Eight, they were a part of the Island Club but they would never have the kind of east coast old money the Cameron's had.

It wasn’t something Kiara usually minded. The whole money thing. Kiara never saw herself as less than because she didn’t wear a watch that cost as much as college tuition on her wrist. But it was more than that: Kiara never really saw herself as much of a Kook to begin. She didn’t want that lifestyle. She never had. It was her parents who pushed it on her. Her mom had grown up under the crystal chandeliers and ever-watchful eyes. She’d debuted into Outer Banks high society at the age of seventeen like every Kook at that age still did. An action which Kiara scoffed at. Her mom was fully prepared to be another success story of the ring-before-spring pipeline, returning to the Outer Banks after four years of college with an MRS degree and a husband who would be balding by his early forties.

But in a Hollywood-worthy meet-cute that involved one drunk sorority girl and her vodka-induced need for pancakes, Mike Carrera stumbled into Anna's life.

Mike Carrera was the opposite of Anna in every way that counted. His whole life had been hard work and grit, fighting for the things that were rightfully his and taking them when people still refused to hand them over. He had a pipe dream of owning his own restaurant, a borderline fantasy that he was dead-set on making sure came true. Anna loved him and he loved her right back. They eloped to Vegas the week after graduation even though own Anna’s mother was halfway through planning the wedding. They bought cheap rings and a second-hand dress since they were still living paycheck to paycheck. Though the bright lights of Vegas had made the impromptu wedding seem a bit more glamorous than it really was, they both knew deep down their love was the real thing. They promised each other till death do us part and meant it.

When Anna found out she was pregnant, she talked Mike into going back to the Outer Bank. Anna swore up and down the move was only so her parents could help with the baby. They'd live on the cut, work for what they deserved and be happy. Then Anna's parents bought them a house on Figure Eight as a wedding gift and Sunday dinners at the Island club became protocol. Anna slipped back into her life as a Kook and brought Mike with her. When the restaurant turned into the tourist hot spot, the zeros in their bank accounts started growing. The Carrera's got rich but their money could never compete with the trust-fond generational wealth of their fellow Kooks.

The Outer Banks only had one elementary school. All the kids on the island were thrown together at an age where no one yet realized the lines between the haves and have nots. Fifth grade was when it got messy. Every fall the class size heading to the Kildare County Middle School dropped by half when all the Kooks transferred to St. Andrews “Kook” Academy. A breeding ground for Ivy-league-bound eighteen-year-olds who lived with the cushions of their parents' bank accounts.

Kiara begged her parents not to make her go to the Kook Academy. She would have rather died than leave her best friends, Bea and Joey, who were both Pogues and staying at KDMS. She didn't realize that middle school would rip the three of them apart. By eighth grade, Kiara had her new friends. Pope Heyward, John B. and JJ Maybank, but he still went by Junior back then. Even if they were bothered by Kiara's status as half-Kook, in the same way Bea and Joey had been, they never showed it.

Mike and Anna didn't see the need to send Kiara to St. Andrews if she didn't want to go but as high school inched closed with every year, the whispers about the Kook in public school grew louder. The summer before freshman year, her parents offered her a deal - though it was hardly a fair one in Kiara's mind. She could either stay at Kildare County High School but she'd have to work in the restaurant in her free time or she could go to St. Andrews with complete freedom for a year. Kiara knew her parents wanted her to transfer so she caved and agreed to a year at St. Andrews to make them happy. Anna prayed her daughter would find her people at St. Andrews and that one year would turn into four but Kiara knew she had already found her people and was counting down the days till she could go back to them. It was only when Sarah Cameron decided the new girl might be cool that Kiara stopped marking each passing day with a big red x.

There was less than a week left in their Christmas break and Kiara was seated across from Sarah at the Cameron's dining room table bent over her practice problems for Mr. Harrings' freshman science. He infamously gave out the hardest pop quiz of the year the first day back after break and Kiara's grade couldn't take her failing it.

"What’s avocado’s number?” Sarah asked, looking up from her paper, her pen frozen in midair.

“What’s what?” said Kiara, thoroughly confused at Sarah’s question.

“You know,” Sarah paused, scanning Kiara’s face for any sign of understanding. “Avogadro’s number. Some kid in my class thought the dude’s name was avocado so we’ve been calling it avocado’s number since.”

“Ah, Avogadro’s number,” Kiara repeated, shifting her papers around until she found the one with all the formulas and constants written on it. “Six point zero two two one four zero seven six times ten to the twenty-second power.”

Sarah punched the numbers into her calculator. “Thanks, babes.”

“Of course.”

Rafe’s heavy footsteps carried through the Cameron’s massive house announcing his arrival home. He strolled into the room, a thick stack of papers in one hand and a garment bag draped over the opposite arm.

“Hey loser,” Sarah said, not inspired enough by her brother's presence to look up from her work.

“Hi Rafe,” Kiara echoed. "Where you been?"

"Being Ward's errand boy. I forgot the key to his office where I was supposed to drop off this contract so he's gonna kill me for that. But," Rafe paused digging into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet pouch. "Merry late Christmas," he finished, handing the bag to Kie. "I saw it and I thought you'd like it."

Kiara reached into the pouch pulling out a small enamel pin of the earth, shaped into a heart with the word "love" in silver written over it. Kie smoothed her thumb over the cold metal.

"You know since you're gonna save the planet and everything," Rafe added.

"Thank you. I love it!" Kiara jumped up from her chair, throwing her arms around his waist wrapping him a hug.

"No problem, Kie." Rafe said.

"Hey, I'm trying to save our planet too." Sarah pipped up.

"Shut up, Sarah," Rafe cracked. "I gave you your Christmas present last week."

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, Rafe doing the same in return.

"What are you guys working on?" Rafe asked.

"Science," Kiara replied, reaching down to grab her backpack from underneath the table.

"Is that for Mr. Harrings' class?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," Kie said, half distracting by trying to decide which spot to put her new pin in.

"I think I might still have my old test from that class if you want them.”

Sarah's head snapped up at the offer. "No way."

"Sound any more surprised, Sarah. I was offering them to Kiara anyway, snob," Rafe shot back.

"I'll share," Kie assured her best friend.

Kiara followed Rafe up the grand staircase, flopping on Rafe's bed while he searched for his old work.

"Henry Spiegel was talking about taking you to a he formal in the locker room before we left for break," Rade relied from inside his closet.

"Isn't he the freshman who made varsity lacrosse?" Kiara asked back. She contemplated the idea of going to St. Andrews' Winter Formal with him. Henry was nice enough, plus he was pretty good-looking. She could stand going with him.

"I told him if I found out he'd asked you, I'd make sure he missed the next three games because of a black eye."

"Rafe."

"What? Do you really think I'm gonna let some dweeb with half a brain who only wants to get in your pants take my little sisters to formal?"

"Who am I supposed to take?” She shot back.

“I don’t know. Not him,” Rafe said, emerging, a small stack of papers in hand.

“You know Denny asked Sarah last week.”

“I know.”

Kiara paused, “You will you take?”

Rafe shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Maybe Ashely M. Seniors don’t really go to the actual dance.”

Kie took the pages of old test for Rafe’s outstretched arm and riffled through them. His name was scribbled on the top of each one in his messy handwriting.

Her eyes drifted up to the Duke basketball poster in the corner of Rafe’s room.

“When do you hear from them?” Kie asked.

“March,” said Rafe, his voice void of emotion.

“I know you’ll get in.”

"My dad'll make sure of it.” Rafe sat down on the bed next to Kiara.

“You don’t know that.”

“I found a card addressed to Ward from the Dean of Student last week thanking him for 'the generous donation from such a valued alumni.'”

Kie's head dropped to rest on Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well he’s a dick.” Rafe’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, reading the text on the screen. “I gotta go. I told the boys we’d go hit at the Club tonight.”

“Thanks again for these.” Kie held up the papers. “And for the pin," she added.

“Mr. Harrings always includes the names of the scientists from the unit as bonus questions. Don’t forget to look those up,” Rafe said as he stood up from the bed. "See you around, Kie." He placed a small protective kiss on her forehead before he headed back downstairs.

"JJ?" Pope slapped JJ's shin to get his attention.

"What?" JJ whispered back over the sounds of the movie.

"I gotta take a piss.”

"Hold it."

"I can’t hold it. I drank too much soda."

"It’s too exposed. They’ll totally see us."

"I gotta go," Pope pleaded. He peered behind him to see Rafe, Topper, and Kelce still parked in the same spots at the back of the crowd. "They’re blocking the bathrooms," Pope added.

JJ looked around, thinking up a Plan B. "Alright. Come here. I know where.”

"Hey, where y’all going?" Kiara asked, turning her attention away from the movie.

"We gotta wring it out," JJ responded deadpan.

"What? You gonna hold it for each other," Kiara questioned, disgusted at the thought.

JJ shrugged off the comment and lead Pope through the crowd, the two of them ducking behind a large oak tree.

Kiara turned back to the movie playing on the giant screen, leaving the boys to their own devices. Besides, they wouldn't dare start something with all the people around. They were idiots but they knew better than that.

"Crap," Kiara cursed under her breath when Rafe trailed by Topper and Kelce brushed by her, heading in the same direction Pope and JJ had went. She watched their figures disappear behind the screen before she jumped up from her seat.

JJ's gun, the thought flew her mind.

She picked up his backpack with no intention to use it but better safe than sorry. Especially when it came to those Kooks in particular.

"Hey, kick his ass, Top!" Kiara heard Rafe yell as she rounded the corner.

Kiara felt a full-fledged panic run through her body as she took in the sight. Kelce had pinned JJ's arm behind his back and was Rafe pounded his fist into JJ’s face. A foot away, Pope was barely holding off Topper. Whatever Pope and JJ had done had obviously crossed a line.

Kiara ran in without another thought, swinging JJ's backpack in front of her. "Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!" She screamed at him.

Topper grabbed the bag from her, ripping it out of Kiara's hand and throwing it aside. Kiara jumped on Topper's back, desperate to distract him.

"Hey listen, Pope," Topper yelled over the sounds of the movie. "All you gotta do is accept a little personal responsibility."

"Screw you, kook," Pope spit back.

Kiara felt arms wrap around her waist, yanking her off of Topper. The too-familiar scents of Rafe's cologne filled her nose and his breath was hot on her cheek.

She kicked her legs struggling against him, "Let go of me, Rafe."

"Stay out of this, Kiara," he warned, tossing her onto the ground. His gaze fixed on her for a second before turning away. Kiara swore she saw a look of guilt flash across Rafe's face, wordlessly apologizing for tossing her away so harshly but she didn’t have time to think about that while her boys were still in trouble.

"Kie! You okay?" Pope yelled, struggling against Topper who had wrapped his arm around Pope's neck.

"Come on, man. Just admit it," Topper shouted. "Admit you did it, bitch!"

JJ's backpack had conveniently landed close to where Kiara lay. She rolled over, pushing herself onto her knees and crawling over to the backpack. She riffled through it, her hand landing on the cold mental of the gun.

"You don't mess with me, Pogue! You hear me?" Topper continued. Kiara looked up at Topper's face which showed no signs of mercy. Meanwhile, Rafe's fist smashed into JJ's face again and again. The situation was getting worse by the second. “I'm gonna give you one chance. One chance, Pope. One chance. Come on! One!"

Kiara dropped the gun back into the backpack pulling out JJ's lighter instead, two Js craved onto the surface. She had to go big to stop Rafe, Topper and Kelce. Kiara crawled over to the edge of the sheet the movie was being projected off. Fuck, this has to work.

"Finish him off, Top!" Rafe directed.

Kie flicked on the lighter, the wind blowing out the flame the first few times. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed the edge of the sheet and held the blue flame up to it. The fire lit up her face as it took hold, spreading faster than she had expected. The crowd yelped, scrambling away as the orange flames climbed toward the sky.

"Guys! Fire!" Rafe yelled, taking in the sight.

"Get off of him!" Kie pushed Topper away from Pope who fell to the ground gasping for air. "Kelce, let go of JJ!"

"Let's get out of here," Rafe started, fleeing the scene. The other Kooks not far behind him.

"You good?" Kiara asked Pope helping him off the ground. "We're okay." She assured. Her heart was racing, her hands still shaking.

"You're a freakin' idiot," Pope responded.

"I saved your ass. Come on." Kiara threw her arm around Pope's shoulder, leading him away.

The sounds of the film continued to echo over the speakers as the sheet burned to ash behind them.

Kiara sat slumped against the wall of the St. Andrews hallway that lead into the cafeteria. The frill of her $200 dress fanned out around her. The dress, in her opinion, had been a colossal waste of money but had Sarah actually squealed when Kiara walked out of the fitting room in it. Kiara had tugged at the awkward way the skirt st on her hips but Sarah wouldn’t shut up about how perfectly the blue color fit the Winter Wonderland theme so Kiara bought it. Now, the sequins itching against her collarbone were just annoying her and Kiara couldn’t help scratching at them, making the already red marks on her skin even angrier. She was so fucked. Denny had pulled out a flash during pictures and somehow it kept ending up in Kiara's hands. The whole dance thing had Kiara incredibly anxious so she kept taking sips of the flash to keep her self busy. First during pictures, then during dinner, and in the limo on the way to the school. Now the flask was lying empty on the floor next to her and her nerves were no less settled.

She longed for her pogues so much the pain of missing them made her stomach hurt. Well, that or the alcohol. At that moment, she would have given anything to be back with them. Back with Pope and his overly nervous tendencies, back with John B. and his ideas that usually lead them into trouble, back with JJ and his flirtatious banter that left her blushing a lot more than she cared to admit. They were her family, where she belonged. Not in the gated communities of Figure Eight with mansions so big they had rooms no one entered for weeks. This whole year had been a mistake. She couldn't stand the fakeness of everybody and everything that came as a side effect to bank accounts with the kind of zeros that could seriously help if the 1% gave up being so selfish. Even Sarah's save-the-sea-turtles-with-men façade was fading away revealing another rich kid who didn’t give a shit about who she hurt.

The doors of the cafeteria swung open, the bass of the DJ's music filling the previously silent hallway. Kiara looked up to find Rafe jogging down the hall to her.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, sliding down the way to sit next to her.

"The room kept spinning and...uh...I thought I might throw up so I went to find a bathroom," Kiara answered.

"You know the bathrooms are on the other side of the school?"

Kiara giggled which turned into a little burb which made her giggle even more.

"Jesus, Kiara. How drunk are you?" Rafe picked up the flask from the ground. He could smell the alcohol on her breath without even getting closer over. “Who's is this?"

Kiara paused for a moment, trying to remember. "Denny's."

"Sarah's date, Denny?"

Kiara nodded her head.

"Fuck," Rafe muttered. "Okay, let's get you out of here before any of the chaperons see and write you up." He stood up and held out both hands to held Kiara to her feet too.

Kiara pulled herself, leaning against Rafe for stability. The doors swung open again and Rafe's date marched into the hallway.

"Ugh, thank God. There you are. This dance is so lame. C'mon, we're all going to Joey's."

"I'm not coming. I have to take my sister home. She's totally trashed."

The girl's eyes moved over Rafe's face, landing on Kiara. "No," she corrected. "You're my date. You have to come with me."

"Did you not just hear me? I'm taking my sister home," Rafe replied.

"Are you kidding me? She's not even your real sister. She's hardly even a real Kook. I bet she's just using Sarah and you for your family's money. Just look at her dress. It's the same one every other wannabe trying-to-hard freshman has on. Pathetic."

Rafe pulled Kiara closer into him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder protectively. "You can fucking leave," Rafe spit back. "I don't wanna hear you ever talk about my family like that again."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I was gonna hook up with Brandan tonight anyway. He's way hotter than you." She spun on her, stalking off in the same direction she had come.

Kiara looked up at Rafe, her bottom lip shaking as tears welled in her eyes. "Are you mad at me?" She asked.

Rafe laughed. "Of course not, Kie. Ashley can go fuck herself. Or she can go fuck Brandan. I don't really care." He wiped away the tear that had slide down Kiara's cheek. "Let's go find Sarah so I can take you both home."

Sarah was sitting on her date's lap back inside the cafeteria turned South Pole for the night, laughing loud enough at Denny’s shitty jokes that it was throughly annoying everyone around her.

"Get up Sarah," Rafe commanded.

Sarah surprised at Rafe's sudden presence scrambled off her date's lap. Rafe reached down and grabbed a fistful of Denny's shirt. He cocked his arm back and swung his fist straight into Denny's nose which gave a definitive crack on impact. Sarah let out a gasp and rushed forward.

"What the fuck?" She screamed at Rafe, shoving him off her date.

"You're date's an ass. Kie's completed wasted thanks to him" he said to Sarah. "Let's go. I'm taking you both home."

Sarah glanced at Kiara, who was standing slightly behind Rafe feeling both embarrassed at how much she had drank and grateful for Rafe's protectiveness.

"But I wanna go to the afterparty," Sarah protested. "She has you." Sarah's eyes locked with Kiara and Kiara's heart sank. She could tell her "best friend" wasn't about to give up the rest of her night just because she was nervous and had drunk too much.

Kiara shifted awkwardly on her feet. Sarah could have a least pretended to be conflicted, considered missing the party for a second. God, Kiara missed the unwavering faithfulness of her pogues.

Kiara tugged on Rafe's hand and he glanced over his shoulder at her. "It's fine," she slurred. She really needed out of this itchy disaster of dress as soon as possible.

"You're a really great friend," Rafe said to Sarah.

"Whatever," Sarah replied, her voice almost mimicking the way Rafe's date had said the same words. "Let's go find some ice for your nose, Denny."

They had found the gold. It was fifty feet down a well under an ax-murders house no less but they'd fucking found it. John B's crazy plan had worked and all they needed to do was get the gold out, a job which had effectively been delegated to Pope. Of course, first they had to wait for John B to get back from his fishing trip with Ward Cameron, some twisted form of pseudo father-son bonding. What was it with men and finishing? Couldn’t they pick a sport that didn’t actively destroy the environment?

Pope sat atop the kitchen counter, a pencil tucked behind his ear, his mouth moving as he made silent calculations. JJ stood in the doorway of the chateau, dripping water from the hot tub onto the floor. Kiara had thrown off the couch cushions and was rifling through the desk draws, slamming each one with frustration when they didn't hold what she was looking for. Kiara noticed this morning that a pin was missing from her backpack. It didn’t seem like a big deal but with every passing second her panic escalated.

“What are you looking for, bro? I swear this house is like one of those Where’s Waldo? books.” JJ asked Kiara.

“Did you just make a reference to a book, JJ?” Pope chimed in from across the room.

“Just because I chose not to read, doesn’t mean I can’t Pope,” JJ replied.

“Both of you are idiots. It’s a picture book anyway, you don't read it. Can you help me find my pin, please? It's the one I've always had on my backpack. The earth, shaped like a heart," Kie explained.

"Right," Pope replied, sliding off the counter where he was sitting. “Why do you care about it so much anyway?”

“It was a gift."

“From who?”

“From someone at the Kook Academy.”

“Sarah?”

“No.”

“You had other friends there?” JJ mocked.

Kie hesitated. “Fine, it was actually from Rafe as a Christmas present.”

JJ and Pope automatically stopped and looked up at each other.

“Bro, please tell me this isn’t the same Rafe who almost beat Pope’s face in last week."

“It’s not about Rafe. It’s about the pin,” Kie said.

“That’s from Rafe,” Pope finished.

“You guys weren’t there. You don’t get it. Whatever," she huffed. “Don’t help me find it then.”

“No, please Kie. Enlighten us," the sarcasm dripped off JJ's voice.

“I said you don’t have to help,” Kie repeated.

“Hey Kiara,” Pope said, grabbing her wrist. He was always the first to tell when something was off with her.

Kiara shrugged him off, wiping away her tears with her tshirt hem before the other pogues saw them.

“There was just this time,” she started, still overturning books like the pin might have been under there. “At a dance. This senior called me a fake Kook. She said my dress looked tacky like I was trying way too hard to fit but I would never fit in because I’d always be a fucking Pogue. Which of course I don’t wanna be a Kook, I was just playing dress-up for the year to please my parents and it’s like she saw straight through. Rafe was there. Like an older brother. Told her to go fuck herself. That if she ever talked about me like that again, he’d tell the whole she had an std.” Kie paused to wipe her runny nose. “He was basically my family so when Sarah dropped me like I was nothing I was sure that meant Rafe didn’t think I was worth his time anymore too. I never reached out to him again and now he just looks at me the same way he looks at every other Pogue.”

Pope cleared his throat, clearly mildly uncomfortable with Kiara’s sudden expression of emotion. It was an almost unspoken rule among the four of them that they didn’t talk about Kie’s kook year. It had sucked, bottom line. She’d shown back up the summer after ninth grade and it was the four of them again just like middle school. No one had the guts to ask about anything that had happened that year so it never got brought up.

JJ couldn't stop himself from remembering what Rafe had said at Midsummers. Tell Kiara she looks pretty hot for a Pogue. Fucking jackass. If he'd been like a brother to Kie, of course he'd know just how to hit her where it hurt.

JJ clinched his fist, wishing security hadn't pulled him away before he'd gotten a chance to swing at Rafe that night. “I still hate him,” JJ announced. “The entire Cameron family thinks they're the shit because they eat from golden spoons or something."

"The expression is born with a silver spoon in their mouth but JJ's right. All Kook’s suck," Pope added.

Rafe had wrestled off Kiara's heels after she almost face-planted in the school parking lot on the way to Rafe's truck thanks to them. He'd gotten up her all the back to the Cameron's house and in the front door successfully without her throwing up. Rafe tried to get Kiara to walk up the stairs but she'd sat down on the bottom declaring she would just sleep there so Rafe had delicately thrown her over his shoulder and didn't put her down until he dropped her on Sarah's bed.

Kiara closed her eye instantly and hummed softly, pleased with the comfortable spot she'd landed.

"No sleeping yet. You gotta drink some water first. Hold on."

Rafe dashed across the hall to his own room and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from his bathroom for Kiara in the morning. He also snatched the half-drunk water off his nightstand. It wasn't the best option but it was something.

"Okay, okay. Sit up," he said to Kiara, setting the water and medicine down on the bedside table.

Kiara grumbled but pushed herself upright until her back was against the headboard.

"I'm so happy you're my big bro," she said, reaching out her hand to tousle Rafe's hair. "It's always just been my mom and dad and me. And my turtle, Leo, before I lost him." Kiara felt tears wetting her cheeks again at the thought of her lost pet. "I just thought he might wanna play in the yard but then he ran off." The crying made Kiara hiccup which made her cry even more. "He ran off, Rafe. Turles aren't supposed to be fast.”

Rafe couldn't stop himself from laughing. "I didn't peg you as a sad drunk," he said, putting a hand on Kiara's shoulder to calm her down. "It's okay, Kie. I'm sure Leo is just fine."

Her sniffles stopped momentarily and she looked up at Rafe through her tear-soaked eyelashes. “You know no one ever called me Kie before you did. Now everyone does."

Rafe chuckled. "Alright, drink some water and you can sleep."

Kiara accepted the water bottle and pressed it to her lips, taking a swig. "You promise you're not mad at me? About Ashely and the dance?"

"I promise, Kie. I'd much rather make you sure you're okay."

"You're getting soft, Rafe," Kiara teased as she snuggled herself under the sheets.

"Never," he replied, reaching over and clicking off the lamp on the bedside table before he stood up. "Hollar if you think you're gonna throw up."

"Never," Kie repeated, giggling to herself as Rafe left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

John B's face was plastered on wanted posters up and down the island. The entire county was looking for him, desperate to be the first to claim the twenty-five thousand dollar reward. The wholesome treasure hunt John B. has advertised to the Pogues at the beginning of the summer had gone way south, like equator-level south. None of them had eaten a decent meals in days, much less slept more than few hours. The whole thing was taking its toll but the stacks were too high for them to slip up now. They all knew the odds. John B's word would never stand against Ward's. They had to get him off the island.

JJ and Kiara pulled up the boatyard, the keys to the Phantom clutched so tightly in JJ's palm that they left little indentions. He'd emerged from his house, his jaw set and only held up the keys in response to Kiara asking how it went so she decided not to push him on it.

JJ shoved open the rusty metal door of the garage. "There she be. Hey, girl," he remarked. "1983 formula four-oh-two SR1." JJ pulled the sheet covering the boat off, the sunlight streaming in through the windows making the dust lingering in the air visible. "The Phantom," JJ announced proudly.

"Mmhm," Kie hummed.

"First boat to make the run to Bermuda in under sixteen hours, Kie," JJ paused. "Forty years old! Forty. And it's still the fastest thing that Kildare's ever seen."

"It's kind of a junker."

"Really?" JJ turned to her. "She's right there, Kie. She can hear you. Let's just put it this way. You would not be smokin' weed right now if she never existed, okay?"

"I just hope it runs," Kie replied.

"Oh, no, she'll run alright. She's faster than any of the cutters the boy in blue got."

The sounds of motorcycle engines roared from outside the garage.

"Pope. Finally," Kie exclaimed, jogging to meet him. Hopefully, the Outer Banks sun had burned off any weirdness still lingering from this morning, she prayed.

Rafe appeared from behind the boat and Kiara stopped suddenly, not expecting the sight of him.

"Hey, there. What's goin' on? JJ?" Rafe said and JJ also froze at the sound of the eldest Cameron's voice. "How you guys doin'?”

Barry whistled, announcing his own arrival. "Well, well...." The sounds of a gun cocking send the blood rushing to Kie's ears. JJ raised his hands in the air, backing up as Barry pushed the gun to his chest. "See, don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road. I'm here because I want my motheruckin' money."

Barry grabbed the side of JJ's face, shoving him to the ground. "JJ! JJ!" Kie screamed as Rafe pulled her back from the scene. "Rafe!" Kiara struggled against Rafe’s taller and stronger physique.

"That's what I'm here for, ain't it," Barry shouted lifting JJ's head up by his hair.

"It's not you we want, Kie. Alright, Where's John B?" Rafe asked.

"I don't know," she screamed back, her hand slapping Rafe's face on instinct.

"I really wish you didn't do that.”

"Look, I know what you did.” Kie’s voice wavered.

"What? What'd I do?" Rafe's face inched closer to hers.

"You murdered Peterkin."

Rafe's hand flew up to Kiara's throat, wrapping his fingers tight around it. Kiara's mouth fell open in a silent scream as she clawed at his hand. "Don't you ever say those fucking words again," Rafe warned.

"Rafe," Kiara pleaded. Eighteen months later and Kiara could tell Rafe didn’t have a single ounce of warmth left for her. The Rafe that had protected her from handsy freshman boys and made her drink water so her hangover wasn't as bad, the Rafe that had once held a deep sibling-like affection for her was gone, replaced by someone with pure blinding disdain for pogues of any kind.

"Understood? Do you understand? Where's John B? Where's John B?" Rafe asked again, his tone growing impatient

"I don't know," Kie yelled. Rafe’s hand was growing tighter around her throat with every word, forcing tears to her eyes. Fuck this. Rafe Cameron wasn’t about to be the thing that killed her. This rich, white asshole couldn’t get away with two murders.

"Where's John B? Huh?"

"I don't know! I don't know!"

Rafe's hand fell away from her throat suddenly. "Don't touch her," Kiara heard Pope screamed, his voice full of rage as he swung a metal pole into Rafe's back. The look on his face was something Kiara had never seen before from Pope. It sent a chill down her spine.

"Hey!" Barry yelled as he attempted to throw his gun to Rafe but it landed on the ground a few feet short.

"Kie! Kick it!" JJ hollered and the gun disappeared under the boat out of reach.

JJ picked up Barry slamming him into the boat. Pope's fist continued to connect with Rafe’s face. Again and again. Crap, he wasn’t stopping.

"Pope," Kie said. "Okay, Pope. Pope! Pope, that's good! Stop!"

JJ, having thrown Barry aside, moved to pull Pope off Rafe. "Hey, Pope! He's had enough, dude."

"He's good." Kie pleaded as Pope reached for a piece of plastic tubing, pulling it tight around Rafe's neck.

"Snap out of it, man. Snap out of it, dude!" JJ said.

"Pope!" Kie yelled again. "Pope, that's too much!"

"Stop, dude," JJ added. "Dude, cmon! Stop! Stop, dude!"

"Pope! Get off!" Kie desperately tried to make eye contact with him

"Let go! Come on!"

"Look at me!" Kie screamed in one final attempt to stop Pope from going to far. Rafe's face was already turning a concerning shade of red. If Pope crossed this line, Kiara feared there would be no coming back. She already had one fugitive to deal with, she didn’t want another.

Pope dropped the tubing, eyes wide with fear.

"Shit. Oh, shit." JJ said.

Rafe coughed from the floor, blood smeared down his chin.

"Okay, we gotta go. We gotta go." Kiara announced, hustling back the car. They had to get the boat ready for John B. They had to get him off the island. Her Pope-like organizational instincts kicked in protecting her from processing anything that had just happened. Letting her forget the look in Rafe’s eyes as his hand closed around her throat. Three o’clock at the dump. They had to stay on schedule. Three o’clock. Three o’clock. Three o’clock.

The single yellow heart Sarah had responded to Kiara's ‘Happy Birthday!’ text with stared back at her mockingly. She closed out of her messages, opening Instagram instead. Story after story showed the party she hadn't been invited to. A shaky video of everyone singing to Sarah, her face lit up by the glow of the candles. A bathroom selfie of all the girls who Kiara had through became her closest friends, their faces flushed red with joy. She clicked the side button of her iphone making the screen going black. Kiara couldn't stand to look at it all happening for another minute. She flopped backward on her bed opting to stare at the plain, white ceilings of her bedroom instead.

She should have been, standing by Sarah's side, smiling along with everyone in a tipsy haze of happiness, not watching it happen via Instagram. Kiara knew she wasn't doing anything productive by throwing herself a pity party but God, she was pissed. She wanted Sarah to know it too. She picked up her phone from where she'd dropped it next to her on the comforter.

The line rang twice before a voice answered the call.

“Kildare County Police, what’s the emergency?”

Kiara hesitated. Sarah was sure to figure out it was her who had ratted on the party and that would be social suicide enough. But Sarah really had brought this on herself. She should have invited to Kie to her fucking birthday.

“Hello? Anyone there?” The operator asked.

Kiara brought the phone back up to her ear. “Hi, I’d like to file a noise complaint, please. Two six six St. Margaret Street.”

“Yes, the Cameron’s house,” Kiara confirmed, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks and steading her voice as she relied the rest of the information to the operator.

Happy birthday to you, Sarah Cameron.

taglist! @surferkie

#outer banks #obx #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #kiara carrera x rafe cameron #obx netflix #obx fanfic #outer banks fic #kiara carrera outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks

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awhiskeyriver · 4 years

Text

le cirque monstre

This is the prologue to an old but newly updated story I idea I’ve had for years, sort of forgot about and recently remembered and became interested in again. I honestly don’t know when I will transfer this over to ao3 (probably at least the prologue, soon) or when I will add more. My inspiration for things is very fleeting right now, but I wanted to get your thoughts here in tumblrland on whether or not I should bother continuing!

Unedited and some things might end up changing in the future, but enjoy!

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Prologue: 1918, Coney Island

She used to think the cotton-spun candy that tasted like melted sugar was just like a dream; too good to be true. She was younger then, and everything about life was shiny and vibrant. Her nose crinkled with distaste as her boney knee stuck to the floor of the bleachers. Not anymore, though. Now, the popular fair treats were only a nuisance, making her job of cleaning between shows all the more difficult.

“Applesauce,” she muttered, twisting to sit on her butt as she peeled a piece of gum from her skin.

“What are you complaining about now, Katniss?” Gale asked, poking up from the row behind her with a devilish grin. Katniss rolled her eyes when he reached out to poke her nose, wondering how someone three years older than her could still be so immature. Gale and her had been best friends since the time she was small, bonded through unfortunate circumstances of life.

“I’m tired of cleaning these seats,” she pouted, sweating and absolutely exhausted. It had been their fourth show of the day, with five more to get through before calling it an evening. Katniss felt the sharp pangs of hunger vibrate through her stomach and moaned.

“If you quit being such a dewdropper this could’ve been done by now and we’d be off eating lu—“ he cut off, ears perking at the sound of distant voices growing closer. Katniss turned to face Gale before he pushed the top of her head in signal to crouch, doing the same for himself.

Female voices billowed through the auditorium, followed by that of her father, whose voice was authoritative and all business. He cleared his throat loudly a couple of times before joining in their quiet laughter with a hardy one of his own that reverberated off the bleachers. Katniss shrunk further into the ground with the sound. Father had always been a vocal man. Vocal when he was happy, even more so when he was angry. He talked, and Katniss listened. Katniss was always listening.

“The children all loved the performance today.”

“Simply loved it!” another high-pitched voice agreed. Katniss twisted her head uncomfortably in hopes of seeing beneath the bleachers and caught sight of two women dressed in long black robes with matching white-lined headdresses.

Nuns from the orphanage.

Gale had sold them tickets earlier before the last showing, and Katniss had hoped she would’ve finished her chores in time to see the children. Because despite living within her father’s circus (what he advertised to be the happiest place in America) there was a surprisingly low number of people who were willing to keep her boredom occupied.

“Children, what must you say now to Mr. Snow?” A chorus of cheerful thank you’s sounded, and underfed children whose clothing didn’t exactly fit wore bright grins. Perhaps the advertising hadn’t been entirely false. They all sure seemed to think so.

The children lined up behind the tallest sister like toy soldiers, marching towards the opening flap of the tent. All, except for one.

“Not you, young man.”

Katniss had practically turned herself upside down in effort to keep the woman in her line of sight, and caught the faintest glimpse of the child. He wasn’t facing her, but his hair was ash-blonde and unattended. Although he wore the same uniform as the other boys, it was sloppy with his shirt un-tucked and it’s color slightly off-white.

“You are not going anywhere,” she spoke dismissively as the other sister came to stand beside her.

“…But, have I done something wrong?”

His voice surprised her. Strong for a child, despite the same unavoidable squeakiness Gale experienced sometimes, being almost fourteen.

“Part of becoming a man,” he’d said proudly when her and her baby sister Prim giggled. “It’s called puberty.”

“Puber-what?” Prim asked, nose wrinkled.

“Awe, forget it.”

“Peeta...” The one reached out, as if to touch him but recoiled before her hand could land on his shoulder, and drew back. “Our home has no place for you, anymore. There is nothing we can do for you.”

He remained quiet as the softer one peered up at her stone-faced sister, who only nodded with agreement.

“You belong here. There is simply nowhere else for you to go.”

“There is not a soul in New York who cares to take in a crippled boy.”

Father took a step in closer to the nuns, who stood a fair distance from the wilting boy. Katniss watched on, her heart beating explosively inside of her chest in a way that made her breaths almost ragged. She’d witnessed cruelty tenfold and was not blind to its existence. But the reality of what the young man was crashed down on her heavily, and she realized perhaps they were not being heartless afterall.

The boy was grotesque. Evidence of the fact made clear as he turned on a crutch made of wood and exposed his profile. It took a hand covering her mouth to keep from making any audible sound.

So, they were simply right, then. There wasn’t a soul in New York, or most likely any state, that would willingly take him into their care. Nobody but a circus.

He resisted as her father’s thick hand clutched his arm, but surprisingly enough did not scream. He did not say a single word as he finally spun around fully into Katniss’s view. Watching with a mixture of fear and dread as the two nuns who had escorted him in left without him.

+++

“Quit trying to bug him, Kat,” Gale snapped, catching her arm outside of the tent where all of the circus freaks were busy preparing for their shows.

Three weeks had passed since the boy joined her father’s circus, parading around with clowns on stilts and the small people that waddled around in shoes five times too big and circular red noses. Three weeks and any time she tried to catch a glimpse of him outside of the show, Gale caught her.

“Aren’t you at all curious?” she huffed, twisting out of his embrace with a thoughtful rub to her elbow. “Haymitch says he is only thirteen. The youngest carnie we’ve ever had.”

“Then going in there will only make him feel like more of a freak,” he scolded and Katniss wilted, realizing the truth to his words. They both jumped as father’s booming voice sounded from a distance, calling Gale’s name.

“I need to go start selling tickets,” he sighed, turning to leave with suspicion in his eye. “Promise me, Kat.”

“…Oh, alright.”

“Promise me.”

Katniss sighed, smoothing out the fluffy material of her dress as something to keep her hands busy. “Yes Gale, I promise to stay out of trouble. Now go, or you’ll have to answer to the whip.”

He left and Katniss paced the length of the carnie tent. There was music playing inside, the soft blare of a saxophone and some sticks against metal pots. Katniss enjoyed spending time with the performers when allowed. Chaff, the deep-skinned muscle man that could lift four hundred pounds despite missing a hand, made her laugh. And Haymitch, a magician, let her play with some of his props when he was drunk enough.

So, really, her going inside of the tent wasn’t completely for the new boy. She had been keeping her fingers crossed during the promise to Gale, anyways.

Katniss glanced around the abandoned backlot, where dark puddles of mud created divots in the green grass she was forced to hop over to keep her shoes clean. Then, she slipped past the thin curtain, which closed off the strange world of fantasy from harsh reality.

Katniss went unnoticed, weaving her way through lounging performers and billowing clouds of smoke. It was always louder in the back tents – deep laughter and saxophone practices, occasional drunken arguments and the escaped moans from two closer carnies. She winced when the volume grew unexpectedly, and bowed her head as if to provide a thin veil of privacy to a group of outlandish people who didn’t know the meaning of it.

She waved at Haymitch, who only raised up his eyebrows in her direction before blowing up a shining red balloon and twisting it with his skilled hands. The other clowns seemed to be hanging close by; some sleeping, others smoking. The new boy most likely wasn’t far. She bit the inside of her cheek, silently debating with herself whether or not to ask of his whereabouts before she caught a glimpse of something that captured her attention.

There it is again, she thought, following the thin trail of light that bounced off the draped edge of the tent, which was otherwise dark. She bent over in half, silently pushing past it with curiosity in her expression. The corners of her mouth lifted when she saw him, sitting perched on the clear opposite end near one of the long poles, which held the tent in place. With a thin, melting candle for light, he kept a novel perched in his one bent knee, his eyes scrolling the pages like a typewriter.

“Hello,” she offered, jumping in surprise when the boy dropped the book and shot up on one wobbly leg.

“Oh…” she bit the corner of her bottom lip to keep from giggling at his startled expression. His overgrown hair fell haphazardly into his eyes despite his best efforts to push it back.

“Did I scare you?” She asked, reaching out to hand him his cane. He didn’t reply, but accepted the crutch quickly before bending over for the book, which he tucked behind his back away from her view.

“It’s alright, I’m not gonna take it,” she promised. He glanced down at her, bright blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I was just curious.”

He huffed in silence, falling back to the ground silently as he dusted the dirty pages. Katniss frowned, shifting on her feet as she watched the boy flip through his story. She hadn’t thought past the initial finding him, and now that she had, the silence was deafening.

“Can you speak?”

The tips of his ears turned red as he kept his gaze focused at the ground, running his hands over the dirty cloth of his pants.

“Of course.”

“I know,” she smiled slyly, inching closer to him the way one might approach a nervous animal. “I just wanted to hear you say something.”

She sat down, pushing her butt closer when he didn’t protest and leaned over his shoulder to glance down at his lap. She’d never seen a book so close in real life, only in the hands of strangers or in pictures. Father had never bothered teaching her how to read more than a few simple words, claiming it was pointless for girls to fill their heads with nonsense like knowledge. Certainly, as a circus girl, it wasn’t Katniss’s place to argue. But, it hadn’t helped her curiosity. She sat in silence, wondering if the boy could actually read the words on the pages, or if he was pretending. It was just as ridiculous for the time to be spent teaching him such a skill as it would be for herself.

“What is your novel about?”

“You can borrow it, if you would like,” he offered, dog-earing one of the pages before handing it over to her waiting hands. Her lips pursed sourly as her eyebrows furrowed, pushing the book back into his hands with a sting of betrayal in her chest.

“Well, you don’t need to make fun of me.” she mumbled, rising up to her feet. How humiliating, to be made fun of by this boy she’d only hoped to make feel more comfortable.

“Wait.” He grabbed hold of her arm, the first physical contact he’d offered to her since she’d approached. Her body stiffened and the warmth of his fingertips was gone in a flash as his hand twitched back down to his side. He pushed a long lock of hair back behind his ear, eyes boring into her despite her back being turned.

And it was then, under the candlelight that she saw the gnashes and hideous scarring that ripped apart more than half of his face up close. Quickly, she looked away.

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” he promised lowly, sounding almost sincere. “I wouldn’t.”

“I can’t read. You should know that,” she sniffed, chin tilted up in the air as her eyes shifted back to his forlorn face. “I’m a lady.”

“My apologies. Someone I kne—” he stopped himself short with a shake of his head before cocking his chin back in the direction of the book. He ghosted a hand over its impressive script before opening it back up to the page he’d previously closed. “Perhaps, I could teach you. If you wanted to learn, then you could borrow it sometime.”

Katniss took a moment to truly ponder the idea. Plenty of carnie’s had taught her things over the years. Octavia, the lady with facial hair as long as that which grew on Katniss’s head, had taught her how to properly buckle her shoes when she was younger. And to that day, Haymitch took credit for teaching the girl her first words. She didn’t suppose accepting such a proposition from this boy was much different.

“What would you like in return?” she wondered aloud, confused by the boys humorless laughter, sounding through the dark space.

“Your company shall be payment enough.”

She imagined the boy, all by himself in the dark confines of the carnie tent with only the book as company, and pitied him. She knew well that it took more than being surrounded by a sea of people to not feel alone. Gale and Prim would like her new friend though, she was sure of it, and together they would all keep him fine company until he found a solid place within the odd circus family.

“Alright,” Katniss agreed, dusting the dirt from the bottom of her old dress. She needed to be going soon, or Gale would grow suspicious. The last thing she needed was father out searching for her when he had a show to run. “Friends, then.”

“Sure,” he agreed slowly, as if mulling over the word. “Friends.”

“But we can hardly be friends if I don’t know your name,” she argued, waiting patiently with her hands twisted together. Her tightly spun sausage curls bounced with every step she took in the direction of the main tent before stopping just outside of it. “Mine is Katniss.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Katniss,” he spoke, so eloquently for someone of his status. “I’m Peeta.”

#fanfic #writing #circus!everlark #this will definitely be on the darker side...lol #probably the darkest thing ive written #very different #but i hope interesting??#let me know if its worth continuing or aborting LOL #writing is hard #everlark #everlark fanfic #thg #why is putting something out into the universe so hard?? lol

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Chapter 28

The boys are back... (High School Musical, probably)

THE ROAD SO FAR

Docked and Loaded

Alexander "Alex" Collins

MacTavish Residence, Glasgow Scotland

Alex loved the idea of sleeping beside his significant other. It felt great to be loved, especially after all those months when he couldn't stop thinking of her.

Yet today was different, he woke up alone. He turned to the bathroom door to check whether Samantha took a shower, but it was too quiet. So he decided to put on his grey tank top and sweatpants to go look for her.

He pulled the door open to see Samantha carrying a tray containing two meals, one was a fluffy pancake with maple syrup and the other one was a meaty sandwich.

"Hey, you. Good Morning." She greeted, her voice was always angelic in Alex's ears.

"There you are…" he sighed as he stepped back, letting her in.

"I was only gone for a few minutes. You don't have to worry that much." She grinned, guiding Alex back to the bed, teasingly pushing him as he plopped on the soft mattress bouncing as he slowly backwards crawled until his back hit the headboard.

"I'm just not used to waking up without you in my arms." he grinned as Samantha placed the tray on his lap, grabbing a slice of the sandwich and pointed it at his mouth.

"I thought the pancake was mine." Alex said, looking puzzled.

"No, that's mine. What you're supposed to be eating is this very healthy, dietician prescribed meal." She emphasized. Alex frowned.

"I want the pancake." he complained playfully.

"Too much sugar is bad for you." she teased as Alex finally surrendered and opened his mouth wide. He wasn't a huge fan of the wheat bread.

"Say, aside from Alex. Did you use any other names while undercover?" Samantha slowly plopped herself beside him, locking her hands against his and leaned on his strong biceps.

"Oh hmmm.." he hummed, softly chewing and finishing his sandwich.

"I had a few… like James, Chad, Mike or Michael…" he said.

"Okay. Which was the most sophisticated?" Samantha asked. Alex looked at her in the eyes and saw that she was really interested in his answer.

"Nathaniel." he chuckled and Samantha looked confused.

"What's funny?"

"I don't strike as a 'Nathaniel'. I just used it once." Alex defended despite not being attacked.

"Now that you say it… yeah." she laughed as soon as she realized the content of his words.

"What's the funniest? And why?" her eyes sparkled, or has it always been that way then he looked at her eyes. Alex never knew, but he liked it.

"Ummm.. I once went by 'Ray'. It's funny because… it just is. It's too short and I often mistake someone thinking that they're calling me. It has a lot of rhymes you know…" he answered, her eyes never left her stare.

"Ray's a nice name." Samantha mused, this actually made Alex a little curious.

"You're making me jealous over my previous name." He sneered playfully.

"Oh don't be. Alex is a very perfect name. It sounds... handsome." she said, making Alex smile in excitement. This was it. He was truly madly and deeply in love with this woman.

Alex leaned for a kiss to which Samantha eagerly accepted, but as soon as their hands started to roam around, a knock on the door was heard.

"Oi, Alex! Price wants us for a briefing." Soap's muffled voice roared from behind the door.

"I'm coming!" Alex shouted as she gave Samantha one quick kiss before leaving the bed.

Alex felt underdressed for the briefing as Roach and Soap were wearing collared shirts. So he hid behind them and listened eagerly to Captain Price.

"Alright boys, Laswell left us a gift. There's a port near the English Channel, where a lot of cargo ships are suspected to be operating under Shadow Company's name, and it might lead us to Shepherd.

The plan is simple. Sneak in, gather everything we can using our cameras and sneak out. This place will be swarming with hostiles and all we have are pistols with few ammo. Soap, you take care of our ride and comms. Alex and Roach, you're with me." They all nodded in agreement.

"There are about approximately three ships and the Shadow Company shipment is mixed along with civilian cargo. We have to be there before 3 am tomorrow as it's scheduled to be unloaded that day." Price sprawled printout of the cargo's travel ticket along with other solid intel.

It was official. They're back in the grid, a wave of excitement and fear overwhelmed the former CIA. Excited because they're one step closer to ending this thing and scared because he knew Samantha's going to worry about him.

Port of Dover, London UK

1734HOURS

They were too early for the transfer but as they say, "The early bird gets the worm." The team positioned themselves on a rooftop of a nearby building, Price scanning the area with binoculars.

"Three huge cargo ships and one party packed cruise ship." he muttered. The rest of the team sat patiently waiting for the perfect opening.

"Hm. This is odd." Price added, noticing the convoy of expensive cars slowly parking themselves near the ship.

"It is. There's a party here tonight… and it says here SC Security Services was hired as the events' security team." Gary added, scrolling through his phone.

"SC. Shadow Company. Sneaky Bastards are using the party to cover their real agenda!" Soap pieced the puzzle together.

"And we're here to stop em on their bloody tracks." Price nodded and resumed scanning.

"How are we going to get in?" Alex asked as trucks of Shadow Company troops flooded the area. It looked like they had good reason to swarm the place. It was a sneaky yet effective tactic.

"I got one ticket." Gary raised a QR code from his phone. Price looked at the black and white blotches of squares in question.

"What's that supposed to do?" Price asked.

"It's a digital pass. The DJ performing tonight is a good ol' friend of mine." he said.

"It's going to be a semi-formal party with a masquerade theme." He continued, scrolling through the e-invite.

"Then you're going in there. See what's up. These cargo ships may just be decoys. We take one ship each. Always stay on comms. Once Roach successfully gets in, he'll find a shortcut from the inside." Price planned and everyone had no objections.

"Wait. Maxine told me that she brought something useful." he scoured the contents of the duffle bag.

"Is it food?" Soap asked innocently as everyone looked at him.

"Bingo. Three Shadow Company Uniforms from Russia." Gary grinned and everyone looked delighted.

"Guess we're taking the easy way in." Price muttered as they put their plan to action.

Roach stopped at a local thrift shop for his attire. He wore an awkwardly tight tuxedo with rubber duck printed tie and a magenta masquerade mask. It wasn't too shabby and it did the job, as the rest of the group were already inside the premises.

"Stay on comms, Roach. Keep us posted." Price muttered as the team split to each of their ships. Walking casually like regular guards, except they didn't have guns.

"Aye aye, Captain." Roach muttered as slow booming could be heard from the distance. He was approaching the party.

Alex's ship was the farthest from the cruise ship but that didn't mean it was the least guarded. For a party, the place was overcrowded with security. Alex confidently nodded at every 'ally' he passed along the way, overhearing conversations of a supply drop around 3 am tomorrow, confirming Laswell's speculations.

"Hey!" Someone called from behind and Alex turned cautiously.

"You left your rifle at the office?" he asked and Alex nodded. The man pointed to the cargo ship and it gave Alex the free ticket to investigate it. He was lucky enough for an easy pass.

The cargo ship was indeed large, he didn't know where to start, but as soon as he claimed his issued rifle, he immediately looked for the ship's logs.

"I'm in. Got myself a gun." Alex reported.

"Good. I'm also in. Trying not to get tempted by the buffet." Gary replied.

"They're looking suspiciously at my haircut." Soap muttered, frustrated.

"My ship's empty, but I could feel footsteps. I'm being followed." Price warned.

"Mine's full of stuff. It's impossible to look through these without a shipment log." Alex sighed, opening another door that contained useless stuff.

At the last door of the hallway, Alex heard a bizarre noise, he carefully crouched and checked on the room. A Shadow Company guard was snoring loudly, a computer monitor showing a live feed of the rooms in front of him.

"Ahem! Sir, you are needed on the cruise ship!" Alex roared, surprising the sleeping guard as he quickly got up to his bearings and exited the room.

"Alright guys. I got eyes on the whole thing." He told comms while scanning the thick book of the ship's cargo.

"Good one." Gary said.

"Finally, these muppets stopped talking about my hair. I'm Oscar Mike." Soap muttered while Price's end remained quiet.

"Just what is Shepherd up to…" Alex mused, fingers scrolling through the ship log. He doesn't have all night but he's doing his best to look for it under pressure.

Next Chapter : Docked and Loaded - Part 2

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

#horrayfic #codmw #alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years

Text

One Ticket to Ilvermorny - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You have been offered to be part of a one year exchange student program at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Hogwarts. As you get comfortable over there, especially with American boys, your childhood best friend and longtime crush Draco Malfoy finds a way to enroll there.

A/N: The prompt is similar to my other work Exchange Student Pt. 1 and 2 which is a Tim Drake x Reader version.

Today was one of those frequent nights where you and your family would be invited by the Malfoy family to have dinner at their Manor. You were neighbours with them, making it easy to understand why you and him were best of friends since the beginning of your lives. Your parents were well known and wealthy purebloods and also best of friends with the Lucius and Narcissa.

Today might have been one of those nights to have casual dinner with them especially right now during the summer, but this time your attention was recently bought in an instant when Dumbledore sent a letter to your Manor a few weeks ago, announcing that he has happily chosen you to represent Hogwarts in their exchange student program. At first you were excited because you’ve never been to America but then you realized that this would mean being away from Draco. You were scared of the idea of returning a year later seeing Draco with a girlfriend you didn’t know about as your friendship with him would get worse from not seeing each other. But your parents saw this as an opportunity to build your responsibility skills and boost the family name. So to experience a once in a lifetime thing, you accepted it.

Before leaving your manor for Draco’s, you politely asked your parents not to be the one’s to announce your move to Ilvermorny. But somehow, they forgot about it. It had to be you.

Everything was going alright, Lucius was talking ‘Ministry Business’ to your father, your mother gossiping with Narcissa, and Draco talking to you about how he’s excited to return to Hogwarts with new brooms for the team. Then that’s when Lucius brought school up. “That’s right son, we bought the latest brooms once again for Draco’s Quidditch team. It was no problem of doing that.”

“Y/N, you have to try out for the team! You promised you’d try out, this is the year! Plus, you’d get to show off our brooms to everyone at school.” Draco begged.

‘Here it goes. Time to break the news.’ you thought. But before you could say a word, your father spoke for you. “Unfortunately Draco, we just received word from Dumbledore that Y/N will be attending Ilvermorny Witchcraft and Wizardry this upcoming school year as part of the exchange student program.” he said proudly.

At the same time, the Malfoys go:

Lucius: That’s excellent news! You bring honour to your family as always, Y/N!

Narcissa: Congratulations, Y/N!! We’re always proud of you!!

Draco to you silently: W-what?

Since dinner was done, you and Draco excused yourselves to go outside so you could explain things to him. Draco crossed his arms with a mix of sadness and confusion in his face. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” You placed both your arms on his shoulders with a pleading look, “Draco, believe me. My parents promised that I’d be the ones to announce the news, but I guess they forgot. Look, we were only aware of this for a few weeks-” “Few weeks?! Y/N we’re bloody neighbours! You could have dashed to my doorsteps the minute you found out!” Draco interrupted. You sighed and looked down at the floor, “I just didn’t have the guts to tell you. You know I wanted to decline the offer but my parents thought it would be a good idea for me to go, so I obeyed.” Draco nodded his head, very much understanding the demands of parents similar to his. “I’m going to miss my best friend so much. Promise to owl me? I’ll get us the best owls that can travel from here to America.” You hugged him softly, “I’ll owl you every week, Draco. I promise.”

5 Months after

As Draco was in his dorm studying for his upcoming potions test, his owl dropped by his window, clutching to your letter. Draco in excitement took the letter and opened it, knowing it was from you as the Owl breathed heavily and rested.

Dearest Draco,

Another week, another letter, right? I hope you’re enjoying your weekend like me over here. Remember my newly acquainted friends Andrew and Nathan? They’re driving me to a nearby city called Pittsfield in the Berkshire county. We’re going to Berkshire Museum! They said it’s a museum of art, natural history and ancient civilization. Then we’ll be watching performing arts at the Colonial Theatre. For snacks, we’re going to get some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream for Andrew and I, then some Dunkin’ Doughnuts for Nathan. I hope we end the day by visiting the public library, I mean it’s near Dunkin’ so why not right? How are you over there? I miss you, D. Sending you my hugs.

Sincerely,

Y/N.

For the first few months, Draco really enjoyed reading your letters and sending you his. When your friends Andrew and Nathan came into the picture, Draco would look at their names with complete annoyance and a hint of jealousness. One thing he was scared of was losing you to American boys, especially when you wrote to him saying how cute their accents are and how different they act compared to English boys. He had to stop them before one of them would call you his. He wanted you to be his, but he couldn’t do anything since he was all the way here... Maybe if he could ask his father to do something.. maybe transfer him for the remaining year? Draco did not hesitate and write a letter to his father about his idea, hoping he’d allow Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy, your student tour guides have just been informed of your arrival. They’ve been cut from their classes to show you around for the remaining few hours till classes end. If you could just take a seat outside my office, they’ll be here soon.” the headmaster said. Draco nodded and nervously sat outside, hoping all goes well.

As he was looking down at the floor, all he could see were two pairs of shoes in front of him. When he looked up, he assumed they were his tour guides. “Oh my gosh. Don’t tell me you’re Draco Malfoy.” the one in the left said with excitement in his eyes. “I thought you would know, after all you’re the tour guides.” Draco said with confusion. The one in the right rolled his eyes with laughter, “We were rushed with no information about the student we were going to tour, after all you’re the one who arrived school in the middle of the year and in the middle of the day.”

Draco stood up and extended his hand, “Draco Malfoy, as you obviously know. The two of you are?” The left one shook his hand, “I’m Andrew, and this is my boyfriend Nathan.” the right one now shaking his hand. Draco then realized something, “Wait, you said you weren’t given any information about me. But how did you know my name?”

Andrew smirked at his boyfriend, “Y/N of course. She talks about you non-stop. We wouldn’t have needed a picture to know what you looked like. She always talks about how soft your platinum blonde hair looks, your gorgeous face, and everything else.” This made Draco blush and scratch the back of his neck. “You know, if you didn’t tell me you were both dating, I would have hexed you both by now. You see, every time she’d owl me, she’d always include you both. I thought one of you would make a move on her soon so me being jealous, had to fly here.” Nathan gave his boyfriend puppy eyes, “AWW he’s totally into her. I KNEW IT!” Both boys grabbed Draco’s arms and ran outside the office, heading to the library, knowing you’d be there since it was a free period for you.

You were calmingly about to owl another letter to Draco when suddenly you see Andrew and Nathan burst into the library, holding a familiar face in between them.

Draco.

Before you could drop your parchment and run, he dashed towards you and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You were surprised at first, but you kissed him back, not caring about the students watching you. As you pulled away, you gave him the biggest hug you could give with all your energy. “DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! How in Merlin’s beard are you here?!?” you laughed.

Draco brushed a stand of hair from your face, smiling, “I missed you, Y/N. I couldn’t survive a year at Hogwarts without you by my side. School isn’t the same without you. MY LIFE isn’t the same without you. I love you, so, so much and I thought either of your friends here would take you away from me. I just couldn’t imagine another guy by your side. I want you to be mine.” You kissed him in the cheek, grinning at him, “I’m yours. Always and forever, Dray.”

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theauthorunicorn · 4 years

Text

She’s Back Part 2 | Evan Buckley

Read Part 1 here

Prompt: During the operation at the train wreck the reader met Abby and saw her with Evan but she doesn’t know why she’s even back.

“I mean, if I could just take a week off Captain that will be good.” it’s been three days passed since the train incident and I’m just tired ignoring Buck for a while now. He wanted to reason everything out but I think I’m not ready to hear him after knowing that they both met the day after the incident.

“A week off now? Earlier you keep asking me to transfer you to another shift? What’s wrong Y/N?” Bobby asked eyes furrowed.

I sighed in annoyance, “I don’t know, I’m kinda tired and -” I can see Buck in my peripheral vision listening to us, “I wanted to try other things or stuff. I really don’t know Cap and this answer usually could grant a week off though.”

“Who’s having a week off?” Eddie interrupted.

“Me. I’m asking a week off, okay?”

“Why?” he asked confusingly.

“I don’t know or probably I’m gonna fly to Europe and explore somethings or even go to London and see what are they up to.” I told them. I can see Buck’s annoyance in my answers and I don’t care.

“Please, grant me those. I needed this time off.” I begged to Captain Nash.

And oh if you’re wondering by the way the “I need to tell you something” by Buck was never happened because I try my very best not to talk to him or even be at the same room with him.

“I’ll go check if you can Y/N. I’ll let you know after the shift.” Captain Nash assured.

*****

“Thank you so much.” I hugged Bobby as he informed me that I could have five days off and that’s the best that he could do.

It was raining hard as soon as our shift ended and unfortunately my car was still in the shop because of engine problem. I grabbed my umbrella in the locker and booked an Uber home.

“You’re gonna Uber home?” Eddie asked as he passed me.

“Uhm,” I locked my phone, “My car was in shop, engine problems.”

“I could just swing you at your apartment this rain isn’t gonna stop soon.” Eddie offered.

“We live in the opposite side so ‘swing you home’ is not efficient.” I said as I declined his offer.

“Okay, I just want someone to hear this conversation so he could drop you home and talk whatever is going on to both off you.” He winked at me as he walk towards the door.

I checked my Uber and no one has ever picked my booking.

I walk toward the door and thought that it would be a perfect spot to wait for a cab since it’s impossible to get an Uber at this time.

It’s twenty minutes passed and no cab even passed by. I keep myself entertained over my colleagues who will start their shift after us catching up.

Then, a black Jeep stopped in front of us, I sighed to know at that very second who it was. Buck rolled his passenger side window and shouted, “Hey. Y/N it’s impossible to get a cab now, I’ll just drop you home.”

Maria, a friend of ours had this confusion then proceeded to ask me, "Buck is here, I don't know why you're still waiting for a cab? You two are basically a couple without being in a formal relationship?" I rolled my eyes to her.

"Am I right, Buck?" She shouted over Buck even though he didn't know what are we talking about.

He nodded and shouted back at me, "Y/N, get in the car."

"As if I have a choice." I mumbled as I walk over the Jeep.

I said my goodbye to Maria and she's happily teasing the me and Buck. I don't know why people kept seeing us so compatible to each other because right now, I can't even see it.

I stand in passenger side of his Jeep, "Hey, thank you for doing this, I don't even know that you're still in the station at this time." He smiled and God forbid those smiles. "Can you open up the back, I could just sit over there." I pointed it because I'm refusing to seat beside him.

He looked over at his back, "It's kinda messy over there, I got my stuff for the gym earlier. It'll be better if you'll seat over here." He pointed at the passenger side.

"I think I can do that," he smiled again, "I mean, I can sit at the back."

"It's really messy in there Y/N. I wished I cleaned it up before passing you here because I would if I just know that you'll be here. And it's pouring hard so you better get inside." He opened the door and a backed away. I climbed over the passenger side to settle this little argument.

"Where can I put my umbrella? It's literally dripping." I asked him.

He points at his back seat and it's really messy. "Put it in the back."

He started driving away from the station, he offered me a bag of Cheetos and even if I wanted some I declined his offer. Buck started casual talk but it really ends up in my yes, no or maybe.

"Do you still have grocery at your home? Because the last time I was there it was almost empty."

Well, he's not wrong. He spend a night in my apartment four days ago as we watch The Office again.

"I still have some. I'll probably just order a takeaway tonight." I said in a monotone voice.

Then, it's a dead silent. It felt like five minutes before he start speaking again.

"I heard you're gonna have a five day off, where are you going? Are you gonna visit your parents in New York?" He asked as if he dropped a million dollar question.

"No and not to be rude, Buck. It's none of your business." I put my airpods in my ear to shut whatever he's gonna talk.

He sighed deeply as he saw me doing that. I kept my head leaned over the window watching the raindrops race over the end.

*****

He parked his car adjacent to the door, I settled myself before opening it. I put my phone and airpods at my bag, "Thank you so much for driving me home, Buck and I'm sorry that I'm mean earlier I'm just not in the mood."

"It's Evan and it's okay I understand, Y/N."

I opened the door and hop out, "Drive safe." Usually it followed set of words, 'call or text me when you're home.'

And he usually answers, "Yeah, I'll text you when I'm home." and he does this time out of habit even if I didn't ask for it.

*****

I had different shifts from Buck after that day he dropped me home, he also did text me that he arrived home safely that night but I didn't reply, I left him on read. And fun fact I'm flying over London tonight for my mini vacation.

"So, London, huh?" Maria asked me as I settled my things I had the night shift the past few days so I had the chance to hangout with Maria.

"Yeah. It'll be good." I said in British accent. I tied my hair into pony tail before grabbing my things.

"I hope you have a wonderful vacation over there dearie."

"Yeah, I will." I walked over my car unlock it from a far when someone grabbed my free hand.

"Hey, I got you coffee to compensate your all nighter duty." Buck said as he handed me a venti Starbucks cup. "It's Vanilla Latte." He smiled.

"Thank you." I said confusingly. He's acting weird like he normally fo everyday.

"You're welcome and actually if you can remember I want to grab something with you so I can say something to you. Maybe right now, like breakfast?" Buck asked as if we're actually okay and its making me mad.

"No, I have something to do today." I replied plainly.

"Something much more better than me, mmm, Y/N." He said playfully.

"Buck, stop this."

"Evan, call me Evan." He insisted.

"I'll be flying to London tonight and I need to pack up my things, I'm sorry if I can't. And please stop acting that we're okay because we both know that we're not, Buck."

And now, he's totally angry. "I want to talk to you so bad because I want to explain things and after all you're gonna leave like what Abby did to me. It felt like everyone is leaving me, Y/N and you're the last person I expected to do that."

It felt like I'm burning up, I catch my breath before answering him, "I'm not like Abby, Evan. Okay. Don't compare me to her. That's it, get over it. Get over her. Find yourself and I'll go figure out what the hell is happening with me in London. I needed this time off so you don't have the right to tell me those words you said to me."

I opened my car and threw my bag at the back as I settled the coffee in the cup holder. He held the door to keep it open, "I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean it."

*****

I'm at the airport right now waiting my flight to board.

"All passengers from BA 798 bound to London this is your pre-boarding announcement -"

"Y/N!" Someone called my name, panting. I looked around to see Evan catching his breathe. "I'm glad I still catch you here." He hugged me tightly.

"Is everything okay? I mean how can you be at this area if you don't have a ticket." I asked him.

"I bought a ticket for Kansas tonight and I’m not even flying there just to pass through because I need to tell you something before you go." He uttered those familiar words.

"I know I fucked up that I didn't get over to what I felt with Abby because I kept a promise to wait for her but when you came into my life it drifted away but I'm not gonna lie as soon as I saw her that night it all came back even if I didn't want to because I'm finally happy. I saw pain in your eyes when you both saw us and it felt like I personally planted a knife in your heart to have those look in your eyes. I wanted to pause everything at that time to explain things to you but I couldn't they needed our help. Then, the day after the incident you avoided me, I thought it might be a temporary thing but it didn't. Yes, I met her that day also too, so I could settle whatever is left in here for her" he pointed in his heart. "And when you heard that we agreed to see each other that day, I see the pain doubled in your eyes. Abby, went here with his fiance to tell her relatives that they're going to get married in June, I met Sam too, her fiance I actually saved him at the incident, I may be lying if I'll say now that I wasn't hurt when she say that she'll be married but I did a little, then, I think about you Y/N. I think about everything that we had for the past year and especially the last few days before you start ignoring me," he giggled, "it's much more special and wonderful than what I had with Abby and it was so wrong to compare you to her this morning and again, I'm sorry."

"At this time we invite our business class customers to board the aircraft." The boarding gate agent announced and I hesitantly looked at my watch to check what time it is.

"I'm actually called?" I told him.

"Please stay for a while, I'll finish this up in a minute or two." I nodded.

"Because of the situation we didn't actually do as what we planned that night grab a breakfast or something and me telling you something and right now, you're going to London and I couldn't afford to have those five days passed away from you without knowing this, I love you Y/N more than anything. You mean the world to me and if I could just fly with you tonight I would but I can't, Captain said we will be short staffed. So, yeah, I love you and I want to spend my days with you annoying you, loving you and caring for you."

When he finished saying those words, I teared up and hugged him tightly as I savor those words in my head.

"All passengers for BA 798 bound to London kindly board your flight now at gate 22."

"Hey, I think you're being called for your flight."

"They can wait, I'm a business class passenger." I said to him. He laughed as we still hug each other. "And I love you too, Evan."

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cauliflowercounty · 4 years

Text

Meet Me in the Middle Pt. II (Fred Weasley x fem! Reader)

House: Ilvermorny, You Choose

Blood Status: You Choose

Warning: Mentions of alcohol use

Read Part I Here!

-----

Fred blinks his eyes open to see a bland white wall come slowly into focus. He seems to be lying down in a bed, covered in a white sheet and his limbs feel heavy as lead. As he regains his consciousness, he hears a beeping coming from his side and a blistering pain erupts in his head, making him groan.

“He’s awake!” he hears his little sister gasp. Footsteps on the linoleum rush out of the room and he hears Ginny calling to the rest of his family. “It’s Fred!”

All at once, he sees a whole bunch of red-headed people crowd around his hospital bed.

“Where am I?” he murmurs, his voice weak and hoarse from not speaking.

“Muggle hospital,” he hears George murmur. “The doctor is a muggle. You were transferred here after you stabilized.”

“Oh, my boy!” Molly Weasley gasps, taking his right hand in hers, her eyes brimming with tears, thankful that her family has made it through the war.

The doctor comes in moments later to talk to Fred, but everything seems to flash by and all Fred can think about is what happened. He was laughing as Pius Thicknesse got turned into a sea urchin by Percy and then everything stops there. The doctor mentions something about physical therapy and then leaves to let Fred talk with his family.

“Did we win?” Fred asks and everyone nods. “How long was I out?”

“A month and a half,” Percy says. “We thought you’d never come back.”

“I couldn't go out like that,” Fred smiles. “Fred Weasley? Going quietly like that? Never?”

The family laughs a little around him, realizing Fred and his jokes are here to stay. With that, Fred leans his head back and closes his eyes. He’s alive. He made it through the war, but now his mind is turning to you.

Fred struggles as he uses the metal bars beside him to walk. He’s been in physical therapy for so long. He’s gotten a lot of his mobility back, but not his muscle mass. He’s improving daily, but he’s not doing well enough. he’s not well enough for his plan. His goal is to get back to where he’s walking and independent again. He’ll send you a letter telling you he’s alive and he’s coming to meet you in New York City and that he hopes you’ll meet him there.

He still can’t walk, though, but Fred’s determined to get strong enough to reach you again. He doesn’t want you to see him like this.

After months of frustration, falls, and feeling inadequate and hopeless, Fred can walk again. he still needs a cane if he’s tired or feeling weak, but he’s made fast progress. Finally, after a long drawn out process, he sends you a letter when he feels ready.

Dear y/n,

I’m sorry for not writing for so long. The war changed everything and I want to apologize. I was in the hospital for a long while. I got injured at the Battle of Hogwarts. I’m doing well now, though. I want to come meet you in the U.S. I know it's been a long time, but you’ve been one of the only things I can think about now. You were one of my best friends before the war and I don’t want that to be the end of it.

If you’d like to meet me, I’ll be in New York City on July 1st. If you want to meet me, send me a sign. Anything. Please, y/n.

Your Freddie

As he sends the letter off, he’s hoping you’ll get it and that you’ll want to see him as much as he wants to see you. He hopes that he’s still special to you. He hopes you feel the same way.

A few days later of Fred not sleeping, hoping for a response, George walks up to him and hands him the smallest envelope he’s seen and leaves Fred alone, knowing this is from you.

Hands shaking, Fred undoes the wax seal on it with a pop. He unfolds the paper and his heart leaps in his chest as he reads the handwriting he’s learned to recognize.

July 1st, 6:30pm @ 30 Rockefeller Center outside Radio City Music Hall.

Showing the ministry man his identification, Fred, cane and bag in hand, steps into a room with an old dictionary in it. It’s one of the Ministry regulated portkeys to New York. As he grabs on, the world swirls around him. It spins and twists until he hands in a room where he is ushered away by a MACUSA worker. He checks his bag just outside the door. The witch looking at his bags gives him the all-clear and Fred sets off to the information outside customs.

“Excuse me,” he says to the wizard behind the counter. “What time is it?”

“5:55,” the wizard responds, looking up at a clock on the wall beside him.

“and how do I get to Rockefeller Center?” Fred asks. The wizard gets up out of his char and rushed over to a filing cabinet and pulls out a map and hands it to Fred in the opening in the glass that stands between him and Fred. The information wizard gestures for Fred to go away so he can serve a witch who’s carrying two crying babies looking for currency exchange.

Taking out the map, Fred steps outside and joins the throng of people moving through the NYC sidewalks. When Fred gets to Radio City, it’s 6:36 and he cruses himself for not being right on time. From his jacket pocket, he takes out the photo you sent him all those years ago. He looks down and watches as you pet the niffler, that same twinkle in your eyes that he’s grown to love. He spins around, trying to pick you out, but suddenly he notices a woman standing on the street corner, her hands in her pockets. She looks around and he realizes it’s you.

You’ve changed your hair and you’ve gotten older since that care fo magical creatures picture was taken. Your eyes are the same, but they’re ever so slightly duller, the wear and tear of the war presenting itself. In that moment, Fred is so thankful the collapse didn’t take his life. Not only would he not be able to be with his family ever again, but he would have never met you in person and finally hear your voice.

Fred walks slowly toward you, not wanting to shock you, but he’s excited and nervous, which he fears might make him move suddenly.

“Excuse me?” he says as he comes to stand by you. “Y/n? Is that you?”

You turn to your right as soon as you hear your name said with a British accent. You look up and see Fred Weasley, the tall ginger boy you’ve been pen pals with since you were sixteen. The one who’s letters you always looked for in the mail, the one who sent you bizarre British candies and foods for you to try, the one you’ve shared your hopes, dreams, and secrets with

“Freddie!” you smile with a gasp, wrapping your arms up around him for a hug. Fred is surprised at your frowardness, but it’s not unwelcome. He’s waited for this moment for years. “I can’t believe it!”

“Me neither,” Fred says, still in shock a bit. “I’ve waited for this moment for so long you have no idea, y/n.”

You giggle and it’s music to Fred’s ears. “You act like I think you’re chopped liver. Of course, I’ve waited for this, too!”

A blush coats Fred’s cheeks. You’ve wanted this, too.

“You’re probably wondering why I wanted you here at this time?” you say and Fred nods in response. “Well, I’ve got a pair of tickets to a concert that’s happening inside. Would you like to accompany me and then we can get some food after?”

Fred’s heart is going a mile a minute as he accepts. This is everything he ever could have anted from meeting you for the first time. You take Fred’s hand gently and pull him to the box office to give the man your tickets.

Inside, you both sit next to each other as the music plays. In the darkness, you intertwine your fingers with Fred’s. You notice he tenses as you do so.

“Are you okay, Freddie?” you ask. Fred shakes his head, loving the way his name falls off your lips.

“I just wasn’t anticipating it...,” Fred whispers. “I’m not uncomfortable... I just have been dreaming of this for more than I’d care to admit.”

The light from the stage shines in such a way that Fred can tell you’re smiling at him.

“I’ve been dreaming of this, too,” you share as you rest your head on his shoulder ever so gently. Fred’s stomach is filled with tingly sensations as you do. His heart is dancing in his chest and he is only barely keeping his glee under control as to not disrupt the other audience members.

For the rest of the show, all Fred can think about is you. All of your letters are running through his mind and what it’s taken to get here to this moment and he couldn’t possibly be happier.

Later, you take him to Joe’s Pizza on Carmine street for real New York-style pizza. There’s not a moment when you’re both not smiling at each other. By the end of the night after a few drinks, Fred finally plucks up the courage he’s wanted to have all this time. He kisses you. On the mouth in front of everyone at the bar. You hear their whistles and cheering, but all you can really register are Fred Weasley’s lips on yours and the his arms wrapped around your body, not wanting to let you go over again.

Months later, you’re both in the bedroom of your apartment in London, the sun shines through the window as you snuggle into Fred’s chest.

“Morning, my love,” Fred yawns, raising his arms up to stretch.

“Few more minutes, Freddie... It’s too early,” you mumble as you roll over on top of him.

“Come on, y/n. The sun is already shining, and we have to open the shop. You can do it. Get up, love” Fred encourages, giving you a few nudges. “At least let me get up?”

“No!” you reply, hugging him tighter. “You’re staying with me. I’m not letting go!”

“Alright,” Fred says, yielding to your wishes. “A few more minutes. Georgie can’t blame us for being a few minutes late when he hears that we’re engaged now.”

“Mmhmm,” you reply. “Your mother is going to have a field day when we tell her. She’s been wanting to plan another wedding for so long.”

“Should we owl her or tell her in person?” Fred asks, considering owling her might be better in order to avoid his mother clobbering him with questions.

‘That’s a problem for later, Freddie. Now is the time for sleep,” you insist as Fred finally closes his eyes, already envisioning the beautiful wedding you’ll have together. Before 7th year, he always envisioned himself marrying one of the girls from the Gryffindor Quidditch team or something. Never would Fred have ever guessed that he would fall in love with his pen friend from the US and travel thousands of miles just to meet her.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter #weasley twins

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

Text

the best day with you

Part of this verse!

Dean taps Claire on the shoulder. “You got plans for this weekend?”

Claire twists on their couch to see him and sets aside her laptop. With narrowed eyes full of suspicion, she grabs the remote and mutes Dr. Sexy. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Dean rolls his eyes. This is why he became a teacher. To help teenagers. Not to strangle them for sassing him to his face. Sure, Claire might be a sophomore in college now, and she’s not really a teenager anymore, but Dean’s never going to see her as anything but an angsty junior in high school. Especially if she keeps up the this attitude. Dean says, as evenly as he can, “Because I want to do something with you.”

Claire grimaces. “Really? Don’t you have other boring old man friends to do things with? Like, for instance, your boyfriend?”

“No,” Dean says. “Cas is going to visit Gabriel in LA this week.”

“And you chose to stay behind with me instead?” Claire says, her eyebrows rising to her hairline.

“Yes.”

“Are you dying?”

“What?” Dean gapes. “No!”

Claire squints at him. “Are you hoping I can score drugs for you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I can get my own drugs, thanks. It’s one of the perks of being a real live adult.”

“Do you need money?”

“If I did,” Dean starts incredulously, “why would I ask a broke college student?”

“I don’t know,” Claire says with a shrug. “Dementia? That kicks in about now for you, right?”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “I’m barely thirty-four!”

Claire shrugs. “Alzheimers?”

“That’s a kind of dementia,” Dean tells her flatly. He runs a hand down his face. “Look, are you free or not, kid?”

Dean is pretty sure she doesn’t have plans, judging by the way she’s religiously camped out on their couch for the past two weeks straight. She's abandoned her spot only to go to the bathroom, eat meals, and, on one memorable occasion, visit her parents for Sunday dinner. The living room her space now - which is fine with him, Dean’s been doing his summer school grading at the kitchen table. Along with her computer, Claire’s got the coding handbook Charlie Frankenstien-ed for her out of a bunch of different documents, probably all downloaded and printed illegally. On the television, she cycles through daytime soaps and CW evening dramas.

Claire grins. “On Saturday or something? Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but it was fun.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a handful?” Dean says as he turns to head back into the kitchen. Lunch wasn’t going to make itself, and Cas was due back any minute from his errands.

“Just my parents, every day from age thirteen to eighteen,” Claire says casually as she reaches for the remote to resume Dr. Sexy.

Dean freezes. “Hey,” he starts, not really sure where he’s going with this.

“What?” Claire snaps as if annoyed, but her face is guarded.

“Your parents were asshats, you know that?” Dean says. “They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about family,” Claire mutters as she turns up Dr. Sexy.

In the middle of her junior year of high school, Claire moved in with Cas for about six months.

Early in the year, she had an explosive argument with her parents about transferring from their preferred private school to Edlund High. She also came out to them.

Dean has the sneaking suspicion Claire doesn’t think she had it that bad. Her parents didn’t hit her. They didn’t kick her out. They didn’t even stop giving her her allowance. But they didn’t talk to her for days on end. They ignored her until she needed something from them, or the other way around. By Christmas, Claire had had enough. She left.

Back then, Dean told Claire her parents were in the wrong as many times as she would let him - which wasn’t many.

Cas took the lead with her, instead. She was his family. He found her a therapist and encouraged her to make friends at Edlund. Dean didn’t really feel like it was his place. She was Cas’s niece, and Dean was the guy who stayed over a couple times a week when she was crashing there too. And then he became her teacher when the transfer to Edlund became official. Still, she wouldn’t consider him family.

“My uncle always said, ‘family don’t end in blood,’” Dean tells her seriously.

Claire slumps back on the couch. “Right,” she says dully.

Dean takes a step back, rubbing his neck as he swallows down his next few words. He’s not about to give a heartfelt lecture on family and healthy boundaries to someone who’s going to grumble and groan through it. He jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’ll get started on-”

Claire interrupts, “But that’s not grammatically correct. Aren’t you an English teacher? Who gave you a license to teach?”

Dean snorts. “Just think about it, will you?”

“Uh huh,” Claire waves him off. “If you’re going to the kitchen, can you make me a sandwich?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. Cas finished off the strawberry jelly while he was grading essays last night, so you’re gonna have to settle for grape.”

Claire makes a face but nods. Dean’s almost at the kitchen door when she asks, “Your uncle, was he really your uncle?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not by blood. He was a good friend of my dad’s. But he was as good as family - better than, sometimes.” He swallows. Bobby’s been gone two years now. Dean had thought the grief when his dad passed was bad, but it was a whole other beast with Bobby.

Claire squints at him, looking so much like Cas Dean can’t help the warm feeling in his chest. “This is your show, right?” she asks out of the blue, gesturing to the television.

Dean blinks. “Yeah?”

And that’s how Cas finds them ten minutes later, eating PB&Js on the couch, watching Dr. Sexy - with Claire skewering every characterization and costume choice, and Dean defending Dr. Sexy’s cowboy boots with his life.

* * *

“Minigolf, really?” Claire asks as they pull into the parking lot on a bright Saturday afternoon. The early-summer temperatures are already high enough to make Dean sweat in the Impala, and Claire’s shorts could double as bikini bottoms, they’re so small.

She adds, “You realize I have a fake ID and we could probably go to a bar or something.”

“One,” Dean says as he slams the car door shut, “minigolf is a classic American pastime. Much better for your liver than drinking. And B, don’t ever tell Cas about that fake.”

Claire clambers out of the car. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Just making sure,” Dean says airily as he starts walking. He holds out his hand as she jobs to catch up to him. “Lemme see it.”

“Why?” she asks suspiciously as she digs for her wallet in her purse and fishes the ID out.

“Nice job,” Dean says as he holds it up to the sunlight shining overhead. “Ash?”

Claire stops short, surprised. “What?”

“Did Ash do this one?” Dean asks. “Come on,” he tells her as he nudges her shoulder to keep her moving out of the middle of the parking lot. “Nobody else does ‘em this good.”

“How do you know that?” Claire demands.

Dean laughs. “I told you I can get my own drugs.”

“Ash deals too?” Claire asks, looking hopeful.

Dean leans over to ruffle her hair. “His dope is a little out of your price range, squirt.”

“Hey!” Claire squawks as she tries to smooth everything back into place. “And nobody calls it ‘dope’ any more, you doof.”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I know.”

They enter the main building and get in line to rent the putters. It smells strongly of sunblock and worn down parental patience. A few parents wait ahead of them, all older than Dean with kids younger than Claire. A group of high schoolers are inspecting a row of putters on display on the far wall. Through the windows to the back, Dean can see a splendid display of mostly-intact astroturf and course obstacles with sun-faded paint.

The guy behind the counter is wearing an obnoxiously bright shirt and smile. “Hiya,” he says cheerily as they step up to the counter, “I’m Garth, welcome!”

“Two adults please,” Claire says quickly, like she knows Dean was going to ask for a kid’s ticket to mess with her.

“You got it,” Garth says as he bends down to grab two putters. “The bathrooms are by Hole 7, and if you want to grab lunch across the way at Fenris’s Diner, show them your receipt and you’ll get 15% off.”

Dean steps forward with his wallet. “Do you know if they have pie?”

Garth smiles wider, showing even more teeth, which Dean didn’t think was possible. “You bet! The best darn cherry pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“Awesome,” he says. “Thanks, man.”

“Thank you!” Garth says as he rings them up. “And good luck on the course!”

* * *

Dean is uncomfortably sweaty by Hole 2, and Claire piles her hair on top of her head in a messy bun to cool off her neck halfway through Hole 4.

“Swing batter, batter, swing!” Dean shouts from right behind her as she hits the ball at Hole 6.

Claire glares at him as her ball knocks against the windmill blade and skips off to the side. “That’s for baseball, idiot.”

“But you still missed,” Dean points out as he sidles up to tee. “So does it really matter? Hey!” She kicks him in the ankle as he strikes at the ball. “You cheater,” he gasps dramatically.

“So what?” Claire asks, putter swinging ominously at her side, “You gonna tell on me?”

Dean frowns. “No, but I won't buy you any pie when this is all over.” He keeps his eyes peeled for an opportunity to mess with her as she takes another stab at the windmill.

“Fine with me. I like cake better.”

Dean raises his head to gape at her. “Seriously?”

Claire throws him a funny look. “Does it matter?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously. “You ate the last slice of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving two years ago.”

Claire’s eyebrows climb to her hairline as she leans against the windmill and watches him take another stab at it. “You remember that?”

Dean hardly watches where his ball goes. “Of course I do.”

Jimmy and Amelia had elected to have Thanksgiving at Cas’s mother’s place. Cas, whose frosty relationship with his mother wasn’t helped by her dismissive attitude towards Claire, hosted a separate Thanksgiving at the (then) new house he shared with Dean. Sam and Jess flew in from California, and Claire was, of course, invited too. They were having a fucking blast, until Claire stole the last slice of pie right out from under Dean’s nose.

Claire snickers under her breath. “You’re so weird.”

Dean glares. “I called dibs.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, McMurphy,” Claire says, the liar. She crouches to get a better look at the windmill.

Dean tries to suppress his smile. “Was that a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest reference?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “I paid attention in your class, you know. Even if you gave me an A-minus.”

Dean grins. “But you got a 5 on the AP Exam.”

Claire does a little jig as her ball falls into the hole.

* * *

“What the fuck?” Dean howls as his ball stops just short of Hole 9. Parents chaperoning a group of five kids at Hole 10 glare daggers at him.

Claire laughs uproariously. “Sucks to suck, old man.”

“Hey!” Dean glowers as she sinks a hole in one.

“What’s that?” Claire holds her putter up in victory. “Did you see that? Did that go in the hole? I wasn’t watching. Did the ball go in the hole?”

“Shut up, kid,” Dean grumbles as Claire smirks. “It wasn’t funny the first time.” He concentrates on his next shot. God help him if he fucks up with his ball barely half a foot from the hole.

One of the toddlers at Hole 10 lets out an ear-splitting shriek, and Dean’s ball skips off in the direction of Hole 13.

Claire doubles over laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles as he sidesteps her to go fetch it, “Like you would’ve done any better.”

“I just did. Or did you miss my hole in one?” Claire asks from right behind him.

“I’m hungry,” Dean declares.

“Okay…?” Claire squints at him.

Dean nods to a hotdog stand by Hole 14. “Whaddya say to a dog?”

“Mystery meat at a roadside attraction that hasn’t been renovated since ‘97? Sign me up,” Claire says sarcastically.

Dean claps her on the back, just a shade too hard. “That’s the spirit.”

She stumbles but doesn't fall - exactly Dean’s plan - and glares at him. “If I get E. coli, it’s your fault.”

Once hotdogs are in hand, they sit and eat on a worn bench that’s more chipped paint than bench, facing a dinky little fountain. A few pennies glint dully from at bottom, almost obscured by the bright midday sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water.

“So,” Claire says after she takes her first bite. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

“What?”

“This whole distant dad trying to reconnect with his kid routine,” Claire says.

“I - I’m not your dad,” Dean stutters, face heating.

“Duh. Dad was more of Church retreat guy.” She leans back on the bench, stretching out her legs, and tilts her face up to catch more sun. “I would’ve had a better time if there was no singing and 100% more hitting things.”

Dean asks haltingly, “So you don’t think this is weird?”

“What hanging out with you?” Claire asks, her smile guileless. “I heard elder enrichment is important to prevent cognitive decline, so I’m just doing my duty.” She laughs at his disappointed frown. “Relax. This has been… great.”

“Really?”

Claire finishes off her hotdog and balls up the aluminum foil wrapper. “Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean gets up to put her trash and his in the garbage and manages to stow his broad smile before he gets back.

* * *

“Hole in one!” Dean crows at Hole 15.

“Do you want a gold star?” Claire snarks as she tees up.

“Shut up.”

Claire swings, and they both watch as her ball deftly navigates around the bumps and turns to sink neatly into the hole.

Dean’s smile falls off his face as Claire jumps around in victory. “Lucky shot,” he tells her as they troop to Hole 16.

“Uh huh,” Claire says. “And that makes, what seven lucky shots for me? And how many holes in one have you had?”

At the next hole, they have to wait for the large family ahead of them to finish up.

“Oh my god,” Claire mutters as one of the parents demonstrates how to properly swing the putter for the youngest child, “it’s minigolf. Not the Olympics.”

“I know, right?” Dean says in an undertone. “Who cares how she hits the ball? If she wants to bowl it down the course, let her.”

“Seriously, who gives a fuck?”

“I bet she’s gonna scream before they’re done with the lesson.”

“What?”

“Water works in 5… 4… 3…”

They wait with bated breath as, sure enough, the child sits down in the middle of the course and wails. She refuses to even touch the putter.

“How did you know that was gonna happen?” Claire asks as the family moves on. She eyes him critically. “High schoolers aren’t the tantrum type.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean snorts. No matter the point of spending today with Claire, he wasn’t about to tell her how he became an expert in toddler care. Christ, he can still remember the sticky feeling of Sammy’s vomit all over his front when he cried so hard he puked. Dean’s crime? Telling Sammy his favorite blanket needed to be washed. Dean hadn’t even taken it away yet.

Dean tells Claire instead, “I’ve seen more meltdowns over bad essay grades than I’d like. And it’s not like I can say, well, you should have read the damn book, Ava.”

“You wouldn’t say something like that,” Claire says as she bends down to set up her ball.

“Of course not,” Dean rolls his eyes, “that makes it worse.”

Claire straightens. “No, I’m saying, you would probably ask her why she didn’t have the time to read the book; if she’s tried the audiobook instead; if you should talk to Mr. Lafitte for her since she spent too long on Algebra and didn’t get to your homework.” She shrugs, meeting his eyes briefly. “You would do something like that.”

Dean blinks because she’s got him exactly right. He’s a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a lazy student. There are unmotivated students; there are students with undiagnosed ADHD or dyslexia; and there are anxious and/or depressed students. Hell, there are students with side-jobs, bills to pay, and little brothers to look after.

“Yeah,” he agrees, discomfited. Claire was his student for one year, but her presence in class was kind of eclipsed by her rocky home life. In senior year, she was back with her parents, but she also caught up regularly with Cas. In class, she faded into the background - Kaia’s blonde shadow. Cas’s stories provided Dean with more insight than any discussion on The Plot Against America ever did.

“All the seniors loved you,” Claire says. “Max Banes would’ve slept with you if he could.”

Dean hits his ball right into the mini sand pit. “What?”

Claire smirks. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Uncle Cas was right, you are oblivious,” Claire says as she whacks her ball straight into the hole.

“Hey,” Dean says, but the protest is weak. “Cas wasn’t much better.”

Claire grins. “No one’s arguing that.” She waits until Dean’s mid-swing to say, “Max would’ve slept with Uncle Cas too - which, gross.”

“Dammit, Claire!”

* * *

“Okay,” Claire says as they walk away from Hole 18. “I’m gonna need to sit in AC for at least forty-five minutes.”

They’ve been out in the sun for nearly two hours now. Dean pulls his damp shirt away from his stomach with a grimace. “You down for pie?”

“Sure,” Claire says gratefully as they leave minigolf behind them.

In the diner, the air conditioning hits them like a bucket of cold water to the face. Claire throws herself into the first both they see as Dean troops off to relieve himself in the bathroom. He checks his phone - one grumpy text from Cas about Gabriel’s inappropriate choice of swimwear for a hotel pool - and exits with a smile on his face.

Back at the booth, Claire is twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger, smiling coyly up at the waitress from lowered lashes. But Claire's inviting expression flips off like a switch as Dean drops down into the opposite seat.

The waitress’ own sunny smile takes on a distinctly plastic sheen at his arrival. “Hello!” she chirps as Dean picks up the menu. “Is there anything I can get you besides water?”

“Can I get a coke?” Dean asks the waitress - Maggie, according to her nametag. She’s tall, probably taller than Claire, and dark-haired. She seems around Claire's own age, so Dean would bet she’s only working here as a summer job.

Claire is still glaring daggers at him, so Dean asks, partly to be a dick, “And what’re you getting, Claire?”

“Water,” she says through gritted teeth.

“A coke and a water, please,” Dean says cheerfully to Maggie.

She bobs a nod and casts a lingering look at Claire. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

Claire kicks him under the table as she disappears into the kitchen. “You couldn’t have waited another five minutes?” she hisses “I was just about to get her number.”

Dean grins. “My bad.”

“Now she thinks I’m here with my dad or something.” Claire crosses her arms across her chest.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You call me an old man, but I’m, what, twelve years older than you? We’re more likely to be on a date.”

Claire’s flat-out horrified face is enough to make Dean’s week. He’s still laughing as Maggie makes a return, one water and one Coca Cola in tow.

“So what can I get you both?” Maggie asks as she reaches for her pad and pen.

“One slice of cherry pie, thanks,” Dean says brightly.

“Nothing for me,” Claire mumbles.

Maggie looks from Claire to Dean and back again. “One cherry pie,” she confirms slowly. “Should I bring out two forks?”

Over Dean’s fresh bout of laughter, Claire says loudly, “We’re not together!”

Maggie blinks a few times, and Dean can’t tell if she’s more shocked by his reaction or Claire’s. “Okay.”

As she leaves, Claire buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled by her hands and hair, but Dean can make out, “This is all your fault.”

“How?” Dean asks as he sucks on his straw. “It’s not my fault if you’ve got no game, kid.”

Claire slumps onto the table. “I used to.”

“Stalking doesn't count as ‘game’ or else Cas and me would have gotten together way before we did,” Dean says sagely.

Still face-down on the table, Claire flips him the bird.

“Have you spoken to Kaia lately?”

Claire doesn’t move for a long moment. When she finally raises her head, her expression is pinched. “Not since Spring Break last year. She was doing good, I guess.”

Awkwardly, Dean says, “It’s okay if you’re still hung up on her.”

Claire waves his assurances away. “It’s been a whole fucking year."

Dean sighs. “These things can take time. You were with her while a lot was going on in your life, and she was there for you through all of it. Just ’cause you're young doesn’t mean it meant less. But if you want to move on, sometimes you don’t have to wait until you’re 100% ready.”

“Thanks, Senpai.”

Maggie approaches carrying a large slice of cherry pie.

“Here you go,” Maggie says as she sets the plate down. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing for me,” Dean butts in before Claire can get a word in edgewise, “But Claire, here, would like your number.”

Maggie goes bright red.

“Dean,” Claire hisses, completely mortified. “What the fuck?” She turns to Maggie. “Forget what he said. He’s a moron who doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

Maggie glances to Dean before settling back on Claire. “So… you don’t want it?”

Claire splutters, “I - no - yes, but not if-” She takes a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. “Yes, I would like your number. But not because he said so.”

“You don’t have to decide now.” Dean fishes out his wallet and takes out a five. “It won’t affect your tip,” he says with a wink as he shoves the bill under the napkin dispenser.

Maggie bites her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Once Maggie’s left, Claire leans over the table and punches Dean, hard, in the arm. “Oh my god, are you actually braindead?”

“Hey, watch the pie!” Dean yanks his plate closer, out of Claire’s line of fire.

“What on earth possessed you to do that?” Claire demands.

Dean eyes his pie, planning his perfect plan of attack. “You needed a push in the right direction.”

Claire’s eyes flash. “I don’t need your help.”

“Tough luck, because you got it anyway,” Dean says with a shrug as portions off his first bite. “You’re only here for the summer. You don’t have the time to pine from across the softball field for a whole season.”

Claire frowns, saying warily, “I know Maggie isn’t Kaia.”

Dean points his fork, dripping with pie filling at her face. “So you gotta try a new strategy.”

“How?”

“Well, get yourself a capable wingman, for starters,” Dean says around his next bite of pie.

“Who? You?” Claire asks incredulously.

“Probably not,” Dean says, shuddering at the thought. He’d intervened with Maggie because was fucking funny as hell to see Claire get Cas-levels of awkward, but scoping out any more romantic prospects for Claire makes him feel sleazy. “I’m more of a pinch hitter.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t pay attention to a single softball game, did you?” Dean says, almost impressed.

Claire glares.

“They’re the guys called in last minute to fill in for a batter,” Dean says. He shovels the last bit of pie into his mouth, saying, “Did you keep in touch with Krissy?”

Claire shakes her head. “They were all Kaia’s friends first, so…”

“She got them in the divorce?” Dean says sympathetically.

Claire nods, her expression darkening.

“I know she’s back home for the summer too, taking care of her dad,” Dean says. “I bet she could use someone to hang with - if you ever get bored coding from our couch. Data entry for Charlie can’t be that exciting. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to set up playdates for me, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself. But none of Krissy’s other friends are back home - Josephine’s abroad, and the rest of ‘em are staying in their college towns.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dean nods. That’s probably as good as he’ll ever get with Claire - she’s not the type to gratefully accept help. She’s more likely to complain to his face while going behind his back and doing it anyway. Which, fine, if it gets Claire out of their apartment and out of her funk.

On their way out, Maggie leaves her number on their receipt.

* * *

Claire slams the Impala door shut and relaxes in the passenger seat. “Well that was fun,” she says sarcastically as Dean twists around to pull out of the parking lot without mowing down an unfortunate 1999 Toyota Camry. “Let’s do that again soon.”

“Really?” Dean asks. At her blank stare, he adds, “I never know with you. Did you really have a good time?”

She fiddles with her seatbelt, biting her lip. “I won’t say this again, so cherish this moment: today was not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She huffs out a long breath. “It was almost fun, if you forget that shit in the diner.”

Dean laughs. “I’ll take it, I guess.” He taps his fingers against the wheel as he waits for an opening in traffic to merge onto the highway. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Claire mutters, so low he can barely hear her.

Dean lets the noise of the road take over for a few minutes: the reassuring rattling of the toy soldiers in the back air vent; his baby’s engine purring like a dream; the low ambient hum of her tires carrying them across miles of pavement.

Once he’s as calm as he’s gonna get, he says, “I have a question for you.”

Claire shoots him a look. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Dean shouldn’t have bothered asking. She really is incapable of being anything other than a teenager.

“I’m thinking of asking Cas to marry me,” Dean says quickly. As Claire absorbs his words, his heart kicks up to double-time, hammering away in his chest. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Why are you asking me?” Her eyebrows are drawn together in that same furrow that Cas always has whenever a student stumps him with a question.

“Because you’re his family.” He’s honestly surprised he has to say this part out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Grandmother instead?” Claire asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas doesn’t care about her opinion - or Jimmy’s.”

Claire takes another long moment to think that over. “So… are you, what, asking my permission?”

“Yep.”

“To marry my uncle.”

Dean shoots her a look. “I really don’t think the concept is that hard to understand.” Claire’s a smart kid. She’s probably drawing it out on purpose.

“Yeah, but -” Claire breaks off, “It’s weird, though.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You literally called me a weird old man yesterday.”

“But… not this weird.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Claire,” Dean reminds her testily.

Claire waves him off. “I mean, yes, obviously, but what the hell?” Her eyes narrow, accusatory. “Is this why you made me do this weird bonding thing with you today?”

“I -” Dean stutters. “I didn’t make you-”

“It is!” Claire crows. “Were you thinking about it for all 18 holes?”

“No,” Dean says shortly.

“I don’t believe you.” Claire grins. “Were you nervous?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I’m calling BS again. You gotta work on that poker face.” She sits back in her seat, her smugness practically radiating off her in waves.

Dean has the strangest urge to hug her.

Claire lets her hair fall over her face as she picks at her nails. “Just so you know,” she starts in an undertone, “I know it was you who convinced Uncle Cas to take me in. Back in high school.”

“Cas wanted to be there for you,” Dean says quickly, “He just didn’t know how. Honestly,” he says with a laugh, “Cas was scared he’d piss you off more, and then where would you go?”

“Really?” Claire asks, surprised.

Dean nods. “The guy is a great teacher, but he’s not great with kids if there isn’t a desk between them, you know? He's been working on it, though. Having you around taught him a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Claire says, almost to herself. “Anyway, I’ve only really known Uncle Cas while you were together. It’d be more weird if you didn’t get married.”

Dean doesn’t bother turning on the turn signal as he pulls over to the side of the road.

“What the-?” Claire starts, twisting in her seat to look out the window. “Why’d you - oof.”

Dean wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“Ugh,” she groans, “You smell.” But she hugs him back anyway.

#fanfic #supernatural fanfic #profoundnet #offscreen destiel #established destiel #claire novak #dean winchester #snark #banter #so much snark and banter #destiel fanfic #destiel #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

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charming-mage · 4 years

Text

The Ghost Zone’s Running Joke Part 2 (Lila Salt Fic)

I find it fitting to finish this in October. Fits the Halloween season.

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Vlad Masters is here to take on the role of Mayor of Amity Park. Lila’s sees her golden ticket in the billionaire. His money makes the Agrestes look like paupers. His wealth and the connections that can be made through him might just be enough for the A-Listers.

It’s not hard to notice the strained relationship between Danny and Vlad. Danny wants nothing to do with the man. No matter what Vlad does, the high schooler aggressively rejects it. Lila figures she can do for him what she did for Mr. Agreste: spying and giving reports. In return, pulling some strings for a good internship at city hall or one of his businesses. The status of an internship at a good place and future in making lots of money might just be enough.

Lila makes her move. She’s able to catch Vlad after another failed attempt. Far from the students’ prying eyes, an offer is made. She’ll help him keep an eye on Danny, and give Vlad information on the teenager. The offer is prettied up to sound nicer then saying it’ll involve spying and violating Danny’s privacy. There’s regret in not cozying up to Danny. Would’ve made things easier.

Vlad turns her down. Says some things about not wanting to violate his trust like that. Wants to win him over his own way. In reality, he doesn’t need her. There’s spy cameras in the Fenton home and ghosts on his payroll. Besides, why would he want the help of a human female minor? Not a good look.

Lila is disappointed, but is not ready to give up yet. Plots form in her head to arrange situations to her advantage. ‘Accidently’ bumping into him and just so happen to have some interesting information. Too bad for her, the plan doesn’t workout to well because of a new lie she’s telling Casper High students.

Plasmius spotted in Amity Park gives Lila inspiration for a new lie. She claims the ghost is kind to her. Implies he sees her as attractive. The teenager doesn’t have the life experience to understand why this is a problem. Thinks admiration like this from an adult means nothing.

Let’s just say it’s an understatement this doesn’t go down well with the adults. When the students tell their parents, there’s an uproar. A recent Plasmius and Phantom fight at the school adds fuel to the fire. The fight is now seen as the ghost hero protecting minors from a pedophile.

People demand city hall, the Fentons, and the Guys in White to prioritize hunting down the Wisconsin Ghost. Phantom is not a major threat compared to the older ghost. Heck, Phantom has been seen to reject advances from his fans.

Vlad is forced to go along with this. If he hesitated it’d look very bad. Only saving grace here is Lila is a known liar among the ghosts. Things would have gone very bad for him otherwise. After this catastrophe, Vlad is cold to Lila. Refuses to humor her much to her dismay. What a lovely introduction to the Ghost Zone’s running joke.

Meanwhile with Team Phantom, they’re having a group meeting on what to do about Lila. Danny catching Lila stalking him (as Fenton) is the last straw. Danny is all for calling her out. It irritates him to watch the liar being fawned over for a fake connection. The friendship lie is encouraging his fans to be bolder.

Sam, the voice of reason, vetoes this plan. Trying to disprove Lila’s lies as Fenton is a horrible idea. No one will believe the loser at the bottom of the social hierarchy. It also adds a target on his back. Who knows what Lila will do to keep a lid on this. That Lila is willing to stalk, snoop, and snitch to Vlad is not good. It shows the teenager won’t stop at small lies to get what she wants.

On the other hand, confronting her as Phantom will make people think there’s a grain of truth in Lila’s story. It’ll be easy to twist it as a falling out. Besides, they don’t want to bring more attention on the ghost attacks at the school then there already is. If people believe Phantom, then it’ll be obvious the hero is at the school often enough to hear it. Which means more scrutiny and surveillance.

Tucker has a plan. Simply pretend to have no idea who Lila is or haven’t heard the rumors. One day an Amity Park resident is going to point blank ask him. It’ll be easy to stick around long enough after a ghost fight at Casper High. A student will be sure to bring up the subject.

Luckily for Danny, an opportunity appears within a week. After capturing a ghost, he allows Paulina to catch up to him. Paulina does the usual gushing over him. When she brings up Lila, he sticks to the plan. “....Oh you’re talking about that long haired Brunette. Layla? Lie-la?” Let’s just say the popular girl is not happy to have been made a fool of in front of the entire school. It’s one thing to tell unimportant white lies. It’s another thing to make Paulina look stupid.

Paulina is not the only one finding out about Lila’s lies. Some Amity Park residents have noticed the ghosts reaction to Lila. Their interactions stand out as most ghosts don’t usually target an individual. If they do, it’s usually a one time thing. That this girl is well known to the ghosts and this drama hasn’t calmed down yet is suspicious.

Lance Thunder manages to get an on the scene interview with a ghost. He asks the burning question: “What’s so funny about this girl?” Other ghosts invite themselves to the interview when word spreads. It’s revealed Lila lied about knowing the ghost hero. It’s funny to them how hard the girl tries to be Phantom’s friend. Unknowingly, her actions cause him to keep his distance from her. Respecting Phantom, the ghosts don’t reveal his Halfa status. That doesn’t stop them from sharing stories. They just neglect to mention if it happened as Phantom or Fenton.

“I held her hostage and Phantom didn’t believe me when I said I had his friend. Told me all his friends are accounted for. He had no idea who this girl was.”

“She stalks him.”

“The child told me to my face Phantom will permanently end me if I harmed her. If she really knew him, she’d know Mr. Hero Complex would never cross that line.”

As the witnesses go on, it’s pretty clear Lila is a liar. This combined with Paulina’s revenge campaign, Lila’s rise as a future A-lister is finished. She never did manage to find a solution to rich requirement in time.

Lila is the social pariah at the school. Lower on the totem pole than Team Phantom and the nerds. There’s no escape to a new school this time. Mrs. Rossi is dealing with the aftermath of the ‘Ladybug is incompetent’ lies. (She finally got around to telling her boss about it.) Mr. Rossi is trying to transfer to another city, but Amity Park has a bad reputation. Outsiders view the ‘ghost believing fanatics’ lowly.

Mrs. Rossi doesn’t have any family to turn to. Her only family members left died years ago. Mr. Rossi is an orphan. It’s a hard choice, but Lila is staying in Amity Park. The uncertain future of Mrs. Rossi’s job is the deciding factor. There’s money to spare for anti-etco defenses. Unlike ghosts, there’s no products to deal with Akumas.

So Lila is stuck in Amity Park until her dad finds a new job in a different city. It’s not so fun being known as the town liar. Or the Ghost Zone’s laughing stock. No one believes her when the Box Ghost moves the packed boxes in the art room. Or Phantom calling her the girl who cried wolf.

The drama filled the ghosts’ boredom. Watching Phantom doing his best to tolerate her is a must see for visiting ghosts. They still for years tease him about his ‘dishonest friend.’

#lila salt #lila rossi #salt #crossover #lila gets exposed #lila exposed

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give-seconds · 4 years

Text

Survival of the Fittest

Summary: Welcome to the Badlands of Montana! This will be the setting of our game. What’s the name of the game? Simple, make it out alive. In which you and Jaemin are kidnapped and forced to try and find your way out of the Badlands.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“What’s that?” Jaemin asks as he walks over and picks up his sweatshirt.

“I think it’s a walkie-talkie.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the device comes to life. “Numbers 24 and 25.”

---Part 5

You and Jaemin freeze at the voice, turning to look at each other with wide eyes. Once Theos’ voice continues, your attention is brought down to the device in your hand.

“In past experiments, I have refrained from talking to my subjects until later, but I decided to make an exception for you.

“In the past, I’ve had subjects that took a day to move from the starting point; I’ve had subjects that started the game by going in the wrong direction; I’ve had subjects that missed the first bag; and even some that missed all three. But you two, you two are by far my most promising batch.”

As the words hit your ears, your stomach flips. His voice is like the voice of a proud father whose child won first place in a competition.

“Now, you might not be the first batch to escape, but there’s no doubt in my mind you two will be the cream of the crop so to say.”

“If we’ve already proven ourselves, why don’t you tell us we’re walking in the right direction? Rewarding good behavior and all.”

You’re surprised by the strength in Jaemin’s voice. Despite not having seen Theos, his voice alone is enough to scare you in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Instead, I’ll tell you why I chose you two to be my final subjects.”

You and Jaemin nervously glace at each other before looking back down at the device in your hand.

“I first saw you, Jaemin, at the grocery store. I remember thinking how weird it was that someone so young was shopping with someone even younger. So I followed you home, and I waited. I waited for three days, installing one of my cameras across the street so I could watch you without being there, and your parents never came home. So I went back to your house, waited until you and your sister were at school, and then broke in.”

Your head snaps up to look in Jaemin’s direction just in time to see the color slightly drain from his face. Your doom always had random people in it, your roommate is somewhat of a party person. Even if the parties were just five friends sitting on her bed, you learned to get over the uncomfortable feeling of random people in your space.

Jaemin shared a house with his family, presumably the house he and his sister grew up in. The idea of someone coming into something so private, someone as sick as Theos, was nauseating.

“Turns out, your parents left for Africa last year. You were left to take care of little Emma, even if she was a freshman at the time. Because that wasn’t the first time you had to take care of her, was it?”

“I don’t - this can’t have anything to do with why I’m here.”

Your heart breaks slightly how comparatively shaky his voice is, and it took everything in you not to look at him. He doesn’t need your questioning looks on top of everything else.

“Oh, but it does. You’ve taken care of Emma since you were in middle school, but not because you wanted to. If I learned anything from your parents’ service journal, they left you alone as soon as you turned ten. But if I had to guess, they weren’t around much before then.

“Reading those journals, along with that note Emma wrote you for your birthday thanking you for taking care of her, I knew I had to have you.”

Theos pauses, and you take the opportunity to try and mentally prepare yourself for “your story.”

“And then I saw you, y/n. If I’m being honest, I don’t know what first drew me to you. Maybe it was the countless hours you spent in the student lounge or the library while your roommate invited people over.”

You already felt sick for Jaemin, knowing this sicko had not only been watching him and his sister, but broke into their house and looked through their things. But knowing all that wasn’t enough to prepare you for the different kind of sickness that coursed through your body at the sound of your name.

“Or maybe it was the fact that after learning your name and searching for any social media, I couldn’t find any. I mean you have to admit, someone in this day in age not having any social media is pretty interesting. So when I wasn’t watching Jaemin, I was trying to find information on you. Eventually, I found your ex-husband, and I was shocked for the second time during my investigation. Here you are, a freshman in college, and you’re already a divorcee? I had to find out more. Skipping all the boring details, I managed to find out about your family.

“Your mom had been married three times, two alcoholics and one weirdo. If I’m right – that is, if Sam is right – you were kicked out at age 15? He also said that when you were kicked out, you lived with your dad. That he would refuse to take his medicine and would have seizures. He said you were always the person who had to take care of him.”

“Oh my God,” you whisper, bringing your hand to cover your mouth in shock.

You know the only person who would know that is Sam; he’s the only person you’ve told this to. You may not have spent a lot of time together, but the only condition Sam had for giving you the ticket here was that you told him about your life.

“I know you’re doing this as a test, but please tell me he’s okay?” You can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you, but you keep your eyes trained on the device.

“See, that’s the second plot twist I found in my research about you. Why would your ex-husband care so much about you? And judging from the fact he’s the last person you texted, I’d say you don’t hate him. After some convincing, I got Sam to tell me why you two got a divorce. He wants to love you, but he can’t. He’s aromantic.

“He told me he didn’t want to get too close to you in case you caught feelings for him. So instead of befriending you, he acted as cold to you as he could. He told me he could see how much you were struggling and that he liked it; it was easier for him to learn about your troubles instead of dealing with his own.”

“I know all this, I’m asking if you’ve hurt him.”

After hearing the strength in your voice, you understand how Jaemin was able to speak so confidently before. It isn’t about actually feeling in control, it’s about not letting the man spitting hurtful words at you win.

So yes, the reminder that even though you pretended not to know why Sam helped you, you knew why. That even though you told Jaemin he probably saw you as a charity case, the reality is, he saw you as a distraction. He used your problems to hide from his own, drinking in your life stories to ignore the fact he didn’t fit into the mold society had set.

He told you all this through a letter, apologizing for using you and acting the way you did. He explained that even though it started as a way to hide from his problems, it ended up

confirming the doubts he had. “I can’t stay married to you” he had written, “but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I owe you.”

When you read that, it wasn’t that he had used you that hurt most. It was that he was the one person you thought wouldn’t have the energy to be fake to you. You always thought Sam was just bored and looking for something to fix. He never tried to help you fix those relationships, instead offering a way out. It was refreshing to not have to deal with fake politeness.

As it turns out, he was fake from the very beginning. And after figuring that out, it was just easier to portray Sam as the man you thought he was.

“Did you love him? Or was he able to pull off that cold, distant personality better than I give him credit for?”

Theos’ voice draws you out of your thoughts, only to render you speechless once again. This entire time, the only thing you thought you had the upper hand on was that there was no one relying on you. You often pushed the thought of Jaemin’s sister from your mind. You know what it is like to be alone, and imagining that girl alone and scared for her brother’s safety made you anxious. With such thoughts for someone you didn’t know, you couldn’t help but feel relieved that no one was waiting for you.

Now that someone could be hurt because of you, someone you didn’t even love, you felt like you were suffocating. He had hurt you, but he didn’t deserve to be wrapped up in this.

“I’ll let your silence speak for itself. You’ll be happy to hear that he’s safe with the subjects that escaped. I hope you feel special number 25, I haven’t had to kidnap anyone for information before.”

He laughs to himself, and you imagine he meant it as a genuine compliment.

“As I said at the start of this game, I think you two are my most promising batch. You both have someone to live for, someone who depends on you. Both of you are fighters, not the type to give in. I thought these stories were important to tell you both, after all, trust is the important thing when trying to survive together.”

With that, the line goes quiet. A silence hangs over you two as you both continue to stare down at the previously live device.

“We um, we have to keep going,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. He lightly pushes your hand holding the walkie-talkie down to your side.

“Let’s change out the camera first.”

You shake your head, trying to push the conversation with your capture from your mind. Silently, you drop the walkie-talkie back into the bag and start looking for the cameras.

After you both exchanged the cameras, you transfer the leftover supplies from the old backpack into the new one. Before you had found the walkie-talkie, you were going to suggest that you two stop to eat. But now, and you’re sure the same is for Jaemin, you feel too sick to eat.

Silently handing him the bag, you can’t help but notice the shift in his attitude. You yourself are in no mood to partake in one of the many time passing conversations you two have come to have. But his attitude feels different, like he’s a shaken bottle of Coke ready to explode.

“Are you okay,” you ask timidly, not wanting to upset him anymore.

“I’m fine.”

“Jaemin-“

“No, y/n, no,” he snaps, turning to face you. “Just because we now know each other’s backstories doesn’t mean you get to do whatever this is. I’ve worked hard to make sure no one knows that about me and Emma. I called the schools for her when she’s sick, I taught her how to drive, and I’ve handled every finance that aren’t bills,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “My parents have the decency to do that for us. So don’t think just because you know this about me means I need your help. Because I don’t.”

For the second time in the past five minutes, a silence hangs over you two. You’re staring at him, a blank look spread across your face, as he stares back, breathing heavily from his sudden outburst.

As shocking as it is, you can understand it. He’s feeling the same things you feel about your past.

Fear and shame.

Fear that because of his parents, he’ll be looked down upon. And shame because while he's afraid of being looked down on, he knows it’s justifiable.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Just because I know that about you doesn’t mean I get to try and help you. God knows if any of us need help, it’s me. So let’s keep going.”

He looks at you, confusion replacing his previous hardened expression. You slightly smile at him, hoping to show him you’re on his side.

“Come on,” you say, reaching out your hand to grab him and start walking. You’ve never been good at subtle comfort, but you’re hoping that by showing him you’re not going to judge him is a good start.

At first, he lags behind a few steps, letting you drag him. But when he eventually falls into step with you, he smiles at you over his shoulder, the same kind of smile you gave him.

Trust is everything when you’re trying to survive.

---

I’m sorry that took forever! I decided to join a few collabs to get over the writer’s block (which worked for the most part) and those ended up taking more time than I thought they would.

I hope everyone has an amazing day/night, and I sincerely thank you for taking the time to read my stuff.

Taglist: @drydrops891

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#na jaemin #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #NCT #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #gender neutral reader

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