#this is like that one time i made a joke oc (mel) and ended up developing him so much more smoothly BEFORE ALEC | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilyasorokinn · 3 years

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WAVES , erik johnson (chapter seven)

note, this is part of the waves series which is part of the heartbreak season series. here's the masterlist if you're interested. kat and erik's relationship is heavily based on jo and alex's relationship from grey's antomy. just if anyone's curious. another note, okay, hi! my christmas series is over, so now we're back to our regularly scheduled program with our weekly updates. also, i think after i'm done with "waves" i'm going to put the heartbreak season on hold. i'll put out the synopsis for the next series, but i won't be putting the prologue out for a while. pair, erik johnson x oc (kat foley) summary, the epic love story of kat foley and erik johnson. warnings, a few curse words word count, 1602 words

(gif not mine)

"Do you think I'm overthinking?" Kat asked as she threw down another shirt.

"Yeah, just a little." Aurora voiced from the other end of the phone.

"I am. I mean, it's not like he's never invited me to anything before." Kat ran a hand through her hair as she dug through her closet, trying to find clothes.

The bruises that once littered her body were beginning to heal, but the scars of that night would never. The event itself had only happened a few weeks prior, so she was still a little shakey.

"I think you need to calm down. Eat a moon pie or something."

"Now is not the time to be joking around. I am panicking." Kat spoke through gritted teeth.

"All right, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna take a breath, then I'm gonna help you find an outfit. But you gotta breathe first." Aurora told her. She watched Kat take a breathe, "All right, now, let's see all our options."

Kat walked into the hospital, her hands nervously in front of her. Mel was the first to spot her, "You're here."

"Wouldn't miss it." Kat stood stiffly.

"How're you doing?" Mel asked, flashing a kind smile.

"Better." Kat flashed a smile back, one that wasn't so real.

"Good." Mel believed it and stood back so all the others could hug her too. The last to hug her was Erik. Kat wrapped her arms around him and practically melted into his arms.

Kat opened her mouth to say something, but a nurse who worked at the hospital began talking about instructions and what they were doing.

The thing they were there to do was to interact with the kids. The kids who were stuck inside with cancer. Color with them, play with them, read to them, whatever the kid wanted.

Kat was partnered with a little girl. She was told the girl was quiet and didn't talk much. Kat made her way down the hallway towards the girl's room. While all the other kids were sitting in the common room and excited, the little girl was sitting in her room by herself.

Kat knocked on the door. The girl looked up, and when she saw it was a stranger, she dropped the crayon she was coloring with and looked at her curiously.

"Hi, my name's Kat, what's yours?" When the girl didn't answer, Kat smiled, "It's okay, you don't have to answer that." Kat cautiously made her way into the room, "I got you some coloring pages if you want to work on them." Kat offered.

The little girl looked hesitant but nodded. Kat approached her carefully and set the coloring pages on the little girl's tray. Kat sat down in the chair next to her and admired the view outside.

She felt the girl pat on her arm, and gesture for her to draw with her, "You want me to draw with you?" The girl nodded, "All right." Kat smiled, picking up a crayon and beginning to color in the unicorn.

After a few moments of silence, the little girl spoke up, "M-My name's Carrie." The little girl spoke softly, surprising Kat.

"That's a beautiful name." Kat smiled.

"I think Kat's really pretty too." Carrie smiled, almost nervously.

"Thank you." Kat smiled.

Kat was off to the side, drawing with Carrie, while all the other kids were running and playing around. Kat finally got Carrie out of her room, and Carrie had refused to leave her side, even to play.

"Miss Foley, can I talk to you?" A nurse asked. Carrie looked up at Kat with pleading eyes.

"Of course." She turned back to Carrie, "I'll be right over there, and I promise I'll be back." Kat held Carrie's little hand and gave it a squeeze.

Carrie held onto Kat's hand a little tighter, "I'm gonna be right over there." She pointed to the spot on the carpet only 2ft away.

"Promise?" Carrie asked.

"Promise." Kat nodded and stepped aside to talk with the nurse.

"Okay, I don't know what you did with Carrie, but this is the most I've ever seen her interact with anyone, especially strangers."

"Oh, I didn't really do anything. I introduced myself, offered her coloring pages, and she started talking all on her own." Kat shrugged easily.

"Well, whatever you did, your magical." She joked. Kat smiled, shaking her head.

As the afternoon came to a close, Kat was getting her jacket on and getting ready to leave, when Carrie ran over to her and hugged her tight.

Kat smiled, and bent down in front of her, "Do you have to go?" Carrie whispered, her eyes wide and scared.

"I do, but you know what? I talked to the nurses, and they said I could come over and visit any day of the week."

"Really?" Carrie's face lit up.

"Yeah." Kat nodded, "I'll even bring some Mac & Cheese. I heard from a little birdie that it's your favorite, and lucky for you, I'm known for my Mac & Cheese."

"And some more coloring sheets?"

"All the coloring sheets in the world." Kat nodded. Carrie looked pleased with the answer, and let go of Kat's hands. A nurse led her back to her room, and the entire time she was being escorted away, Carrie was watching her and waving.

Kat waved back, the biggest smile on her face. Erik approached her, a smile almost as big on his face, "Wow, you're a natural." He commented.

"Oh, I'm not." Kat shook her head.

"You are. That whole thing, I heard that little girl didn't say a word to anyone, but she opened up to you." Erik gushed.

Kat smiled, speechless, "You think so?"

"I know." He corrected.

Since she had caught a ride with a friend who was in the area, Erik offered to drive her home, "Thanks for the ride." Kat smiled as she gathered her stuff.

"Of course, I wasn't gonna let you take the bus home." Erik smiled.

"So, I'll see you at the game on Thursday?"

"Yeah, see you then." Erik nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but when he didn't, Kat got out of the car.

Kat was about to step into her building but was stopped when she heard Erik's car door slam shut and heard him hollering her name. She turned around confused.

He ran up to the stoop she was standing on and stood in front of her, and they were standing practically chest to chest, "I've been trying to find the right words on how to say this since March, and it's December now. I think I finally know what to say."

"Erik..." She went to cut in.

"No, let me say this, and if, after this, you don't feel the same, we'll go our separate ways, and these will have been the best 10 months of my life."

She nodded, letting him continue, "Kat, these past 10 months, as I said before, have been the best of my life. You are the strongest, loyal, kindest, most powerful woman I have ever met. All of those qualities, and more, are the reasons I fell in love with you."

Kat felt her whole world stop at those words, "You love me?" She asked.

"Of course I do." Erik nodded.

"Are you shitting me?"

"No, I'm being completely serious. Now, will you let me finish?" Kat nodded, still looking as if she was in a daze, "I feel like every time I tried to tell you that something happened. I tried to tell you, but you were too busy or with He who should never be named." That got a smile.

"And I'm here, in front of you, on this lovely Tuesday afternoon, professing my love for you and asking you if you'd accompany me to dinner tonight."

"Erik Johnson, are you asking me on a date?" Kat asked.

"Why, Kat Foley, yes I am." Erik nodded.

She smiled, linking arms with him before he could even offer his hand, "And you did just profess your love for me and everything, bit is it okay if I don't say it back?" She asked, nervously.

His eyes softened and his heart melted, "You can take all the time you need."

Throughout their date, it felt like Kat was learning even more about Erik than she thought she knew. Erik, once again, drove her home and walked her to the door.

"Well, thank you for tonight, Erik. I had a really good time." She beamed, getting her keys out of her bag.

"I'm glad." He nodded.

"So, I'll see you on Thursday?"

"I'll be the one with the 6." He joked. She laughed, "So, what are we?"

"Well, not to be over presumptuous, but I'd say we're boyfriend and girlfriend. I like you, you like me, date." She shrugged easily.

"Well, I'd say I like you a little more." He joked.

"Do you agree though? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" She asked nervously, biting her lip.

"Yeah, I'd say we're boyfriend and girlfriend." He nodded happily.

"Cool." She smiled.

"Well, listen, I gotta go. Gotta let the dog out." He told her.

"Of course, yeah, I'll let you get going. We've already been together all afternoon." Kat nodded.

He chuckled, and began the walk back towards his car, "Oh, but wait, there's one last thing I wanna do." Kat looked confused as he rushed up to her. He cupped her face and kissed her.

Kat was shocked in the beginning but began kissing back. She pulled away very disoriented. He smirked, "See you on Thursday, girlfriend."

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cardsbizarreadventure · 3 years

Note

I’ve seen a fad where people describe their original character’s personality with a few canon characters from different series.

What characters do you think you could combine to make Joelle?

☆꧁✬◦°˚°◦. ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦ .◦°˚°◦✬꧂☆ Thank you for the ask Mel! It actually took me a good amount of time to even decide upon who would be most fitting to build Joelle. Since she has some of my own self insert in her , but really which oc doesn't? It was kind of hard to decide xD But I think I've managed to collect the ones that are pretty relatable with my character. So here it goes!

Lucy - Elfen Lied If I have to be honest I've never would of thought upon how similar Joelle and Lucy stories are. I was never intending to have so many similarities with this specific characters until recently I stumbled upon a video that made me remember a bit more about the anime and how it played out. Lucy is a very interesting character , born with a 'sickness' ever since she was little kind of reminded me upon Joelle's origin as a pillar both past and present . Lucy has been bullied , barely knew any kind of friends and because of her 'sickness' everyone was after her because what she can cause with her powers , until she stumbled upon one that really liked her for who she was [Kind of gives me the possible Joseph or Rei vibes but without the romantic kind of intent that was implied in the story because Lucy did fall in love with her best friend.] She was brought into a lab to keep away from the outside world and experimented on , until she broke out and was given a chance for a second life regardless of what she had witnessed and did in her youth.

Ren Tao - Shaman King A few aspects that I can collect from Ren are the anger he has built for humanity that really matches with Joelle's story . Because when she ended up in the XPD facility where they did various of experiments on her and basically played her like a toy she began to pile up a lot of anger upon those people creating an image in her head that they were all the same . But after meeting with someone who opened her eyes to the world , she began to have another look upon things and wanted to try and move on and heal but also find a new purpose in life .

Edward Elric - Fullmetal Alchemist When ever I would look at Ed I could actually see a few aspects of Joelle as well , because of his own determination to fix what he has done in the past and return his brother back to his original body , reminds me of how Joelle wants to protect her new family and find a way to stop evil from prevailing . It also gives a pinch of hint upon how him and his brother were trying to bring back their mother , is a similarity upon how Joelle wanted to bring back her own mother but instead she ended up releasing a curse that later on haunts her , the same way Ed and Alphonse tried to bring their mother back and ended up creating a homunculus being. Sadly I haven't watched brotherhood and I really need to , but I'd assume I'd find even more similarities if I do so~. But I do however see a lot of pieces of Ed in Joelle!

Misaki Ayuzawa - Kaichou wa maid-sama This goes a bit on her emotional side to be honest. Misaki is a perfect representation of Joelle , a strong and very responsible individual and yearns for a piece of romance in her life that will assure her that they will stay with them for who they are . A perfect aspect of her Tsundere side because she is very conflicted and very confused when it comes to these sort of things. I absolutely adore her strong character and how she is able to handle so many responsibilities , reminds me upon her current position in the SpeedWagon foundation , a lot fear her because of how she would act and how her attitude just goes across the room, but a good amount also admire her when they get to know her personally and understand her better upon why she is the way she is , that she has a very gentle side to her.

Chise Hatori - Ancient Magus Bride Another little lost soul that was being sold to the world. Chise has always been one of my most favorite characters once I started the anime , the aspects of her that I see in Joelle are the growth she managed to accomplish with herself , she used to have a normal life a happy family , but eventually that turned around when 'dark beings' (which would hint the cults of Hearteater) began to make their way into their life and make it more dangerous to be around , and even the fact that her own 'blood and family' tried to kill her is the hint of her father that almost killed her. [But in the anime it was the mother that tried to.] She eventually ends up in good hands which help her see the world with different eyes and find who she really is and help her discover her own courage and determination that she wants to do better for herself and others around her .

Shigeo Kageyama - Mob Psycho Little little shy Mob~. He was one of my main inspirations if I have to be honest because a lot matched with the two of them. This comes around her more doubtful and shy side. Mob is a perfect representation of both Joelle's moods , when she is sweet and respectful to a menace and a deadly being if they come near their family. Her relationship with Reigen matches with the one me and my friend Mel have with Joelle and Yorie . Let's not forget about how crazy batshid he went when they took his brother away and he was willing to do everything in his powers to save him... but there was also the fire in his house.. now that is basically the next level of Chapter Death in a sense. But for real there are a lot of aspects behind Mob that I connect with Joelle and how her character is displayed~.

Yuuji Itadori - Jujutsu Kaisen Yuji is the aspect of Joelle that exists kind of rare but it's still there , it's her little goofy side , but the amount of love for her friends and family is also there . His determination and courage to protect his new friends is the same as Joelle trying to protect her own regardless of what kind of burden both of them carry that can cause the destruction of the world, even if the the two of them might appear weak to most they would always throw themselves in danger to protect their loved ones , but later one begin to grow in personality and strength . Maybe I can even connect a tad bit Sukuna and Chapter Death because both are the representation of the final stage when the 'scary' takes over and would basically erase your existence . Yuji and His friends remind me a whole lot of Joelle and her own little crew and how each of them help each other and will always be there no matter what. Basically the hero that wants to save everyone and doesn't really care what happens to them , as long as everyone is safe .

Manjiro Sano and Ken Ryuguji - Tokyo Revengers These two go in pair ~. I see a big portion of aspects of the two in Joelle and each of them kind of represent her 'goofy' and her very serious and respect side. Mikey is a bit more laid back and chill but at the same time very scary , a bit how Joelle is in a sense how she can be so calm on certain occasions until she finally snaps and beats the crap of anyone who doubted her and called her 'small and helpless.' This is the aspect I enjoy the most between the two because they underestimate their opponent and then get their ass handed to them , that's how the two kind of go xD. Draken would be maybe her grown up and mature side in a way and the one that keeps things in line when ever there is justice that needs to be served because no one is allowed to hurt their friends and family. Very loyal and determined and even jump down to apologize for their wrongs to try and correct themselves and possibly help their friends understand the situation a little better , unless there is no way out they always try and reason first before jumping into action.

Nezuko Kamado - Demon Slayer / Kimetsu no Yaiba [New Add] I almost forgot!! Honestly I can't forget to include my favorite little goofball . Another little demon that I can see a lot of personality traits and aspects in Joelle as well. Nezuko and Tanjiro are also a good representation of both Jericho and Joelle in a sense because of how strong their bond is beyond anything . I don't want to spoil anything in my current arcs because I want to keep it a surprise since I have a whole lot of things to decide on . Nezuko displays Joelle's very protective side and very caring one as well the side of value she feels towards her surroundings and regardless of being a little 'different' she still is the same person no matter what happens and will never lose her humanity even after being 'cursed'. And even be a little bit of a hint of her sensitive and cute side too regardless that she doesn't show it too often xD.

Saitama - One Punch Man And last but not least , I put him on the bottom because at the beginning when I was creating Joelle I would always think of Saitama and how she was going to play out of sort of a joke that is really powerful and kind of blunt in a sense . But now she has grown so much and has so much potential , story and personality behind her that you can't even imagine! Saitama was maybe my very first inspiration when I created her because for some odd reason I really like OP shid and I mean literally xD. I don't know why but I just do , but regardless of Joelle being kind of OP orientated , later on when I began to play out her story I started to balance her because I wanted her to seem a bit more real other than I just came here to kick your ass and you're dead now lmfao. She still has some funny little aspects of Saitama behind her that's for sure , but she is completely different now and I am super proud of what a long journey she has gone through and grown so much as a character ^ ^. Thank you so much for sending in dear!!I really enjoyed this ask <333!! - Cards

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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

A/N: I’m scared to see how you guys will react to this one, hope you at least find it enjoyable despite my very self-indulgent plots -Danny

P.S. Huge s/o to @bwbatta bc I decided to update my fic and now I have pretty dividers in all my books! Most of the ones I ended up using are her work so go check it out :)

Words: 4,641

Series’ Masterlist

Book V // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Need Your Love’ -by Joshua Wicker

Chapter One: Dumbledore's Mission.

"A galleon says Erick will crash the car —"

"Shut up!"

"Don't make him nervous," Emily scolded Harry. "If you continue this I won't teach you how to drive!"

"We don't need to learn," Mel snorted. "We'll apparate everywhere..."

"I thought you hated it," Her mother raised a brow.

"Yeah, but she's lazy," Harry smirked.

"Why is Harry here? He's not allowed to leave the house, is he?" Mel frowned.

"He's not allowed to be alone outside, there's a difference. We're babysitting two infants, unfortunately..." Erick taunted.

"What's the matter, Flint? You have stage-fright?" Harry replied.

"Oh please, he feeds on attention! Like a dementor but in a more annoying way..."

"Enough!" Emily looked over her seat. "Is that the kind of things you want to teach your brother?"

"I doubt he'll remember any of this!"

"We know he can do it, Em, we're just teasing," Harry said blithely.

"Yeah, he's the only adult here apart from you, mum. It's kind of his obligation to be good at driving."

The baby let out a squeal of agreement, he was three weeks old but had a good set of lungs that he was happy to use at any given time, especially while everyone was sleeping.

Harry leaned and checked that the baby's blankets. Mel beamed at the sight, the boy had pretty much adopted the boy as his own brother, which she thought made a lot of sense, not only because it was Sirius' son, but because he'd been part of her family for so long that anything else would've been silly.

They were well aware that bringing little Regulus to their driving lessons was a bit risky, but Emily wasn't as keen to leave Mel and Harry alone in the house as she used to, so she put a few safety spells on the chair once the baby was seated while Harry and Mel sat on both sides of it.

Erick turned out to be a good driver, but he still had a bit of trouble understanding how cars worked.

"I have to be pulling and pushing stuff all the time!" He complained as he activated the windshield on accident for the third time. "Why can't I just turn the key and press the pedal?"

"Cars don't work like that," Emily said patiently. "It's complicated, but you're good!"

"He's only gone up and down the street for half an hour, Leggie fell asleep already," The girl huffed.

Emily looked over the seat once again, she was frowning. "Erick, switch seats with Mel."

"You're joking... right?"

"Erick," The woman repeated.

"On it," He said happily. "C'mon Mel, are you scared?"

Ten minutes later, Erick was in the backseat and she was tightly holding onto the wheel.

"I'm doing it!" She said. "Is not that hard, is it?"

"A slug could move faster," Harry was looking at the roof of the car and dying of heat. "I thought you were going to be more... the reckless type of driver."

"Me too..." Erick agreed lazily, he was playing with one of Reggie's feet.

"I'm not going faster, my brother's in the car!" Mel scoffed.

"We're not asking you to! Just enough so we can feel like we're actually moving!"

"Bringing you three was a bad idea," Emily said over the boys' laughter.

"Fine!" Mel pressed down the pedal, the car immediately gaining speed. "I'm was just being careful!"

"Which makes me proud," Emily softly patted her shoulder. "It feels like it was yesterday when you were running around Remus' house in nothing but a diaper and now you're driving!"

"The other night I ran into her wearing no pants, so she's hasn't changed really," Erick murmured nonchalantly. "I stepped on Grey's tail thanks to that... maybe that's why he hates me so much."

"What?" Harry's head snapped to the side so fast he hurt himself.

"I forgot you live here now! Sometimes I sleep like that, s'not a crime!" She looked at Harry through the rearview mirror. "I've been an only child for sixteen years, sometimes I forget there are more than two people in my house..."

"I'm surprised her scream didn't wake up Leon," Erick sniggered.

"He's a heavy sleeper like his dad," Emily responded distractedly.

The conversation died instantly. It wasn't the woman's intention, of course, but it'd been only a few weeks since Sirius' passing, sometimes they would forget for a moment, just a brief second, then one of them would talk about Sirius and everything would start again...

It was painful, and it was weird. Mel had never endured something like this with anyone except Harry. Having a larger group of people sharing the same pain was strangely comforting.

Mel cleared her throat. "It's Harry's turn..."

"I'm okay," He said quickly. "I can learn another day..."

"Glasses, you and I have a tradition of experiencing things at the same time," The girl stopped the car and turned to look at him. "You're not going to ruin our streak. Besides, I need to know if I'm better than you."

Harry stared at her in amusement, then he looked at Erick.

"Is it fun, having her bossing you around all day?"

"I boss her around too," Erick smirked.

"They take turns," Her mother sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry gave the woman a look of sympathy as he stepped out of the car.

"There are worse things than being stuck with two pushy teenagers..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Emily smirked. "A pushy teenager and a pushy adult."

"If it annoys you that much I'll move out," Mel offered humorously. "What d'you say, Prince? Should we try our luck outside our comfort zone?"

"You wouldn't last a day," Erick taunted.

"Fiddlesticks," Mel muttered, to which Harry laughed.

It was around three in the morning when someone knocked on her door. She'd been awake for a while now, so she stood up and opened it.

"Hi," She rubbed her eyes. "What's up?"

"Can't sleep," Erick mumbled. "Care if I stay a moment?"

"Go ahead..."

She went back to bed, Erick sat at the edge and stared at her for a moment. Grey let out a sleepy growl, curling further away from his reach. Erick pulled out his pocket watch, now hanging from a chain he'd found in Regulus Black's room back in Grimmauld Place. The reason why he'd taken it was unknown to Mel.

"What's up?" She mumbled, suppressing a yawn.

"I'm thinking."

"About?"

"How lucky I am."

Mel let out a puff of air without replying. He would do this often, say he was lucky to be there, that she'd saved his life... She just wanted him to shut up.

"I really don't want to punch you, Prince, I'd ruin your pretty nose."

He smiled, unbothered.

"You know, a few years ago you would've been pleased to hear me say that, you ungrateful git."

"Yeah well, a few years ago my biggest dream was to become a princess," She joked. "So you see my priorities were a bit messed up..."

"You'd make a cute princess."

"C'mon —"

"I mean it."

"Erick," Mel said in a tone of warning. "Stop."

He'd been acting like that for a whole week: flirting when no one was around, complimenting her... Mel had closed up so tightly around herself that she was barely capable of saying I love you to her mum. Erick had lived deprived of affection his whole life and was just getting out of that environment. At what point had she become the cold, distant one, and he the ray of sunshine?

She knew right away what he was trying to do, but she was so numb... Mel cared about him, but she was not there yet.

Erick leaned on the wall and tilted his head a bit so he could look at her.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" She replied. "It's not your fault... I just — I need time."

He nodded shortly.

"We can talk later?"

He was wonderful, but she was in the middle of all that was wrong in their world, right next to Harry and the lifeline that she still hadn't decided whether she wanted to keep or not.

"We should go to bed," She murmured, still unable to make any real decisions for herself.

"Yeah," He stood up, carefully putting the blankets back in place and dropping them all over Grey on purpose. He put the watch back in his pocket as well. "Sweet dreams, Mely."

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES

The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.

"I have a better way to protect our house," Erick groaned, he was gently rubbing his temples. "Let Leon cry the whole night and not even Voldemort will try to enter... I myself am starting to consider living on the street just to get away from the noise."

"S'not that bad," She answered, the dark circles under her eyes giving her away. "It's hard to get used to being a human, you know?"

"Look at this," Emily unfolded the newspaper. "'Scrimgeour succeeds Fudge' — Well, haven't met him yet but I hope he's got a bit of brain, Tonks told me a few months back that he's certainly a bit brisker..."

The doorbell rang and Mel left to open the door.

The routine at that point was established even if it had been only two weeks since their arrival; Erick got used to life at Privet Drive quite easily, he spent two whole days examining every corner of the kitchen, and when Mel showed him what a movie was, he wasted a whole day in the drawing-room watching the movie adaptations of the books she'd lent to him.

Harry would go daily to check on"Reg". Once he'd stayed the night but refused to sleep in Mel's room, not that she'd tried to convince him otherwise.

"Goodmorning," She opened the door without paying attention, "you're a bit late for breakfast but I'll let it pass as soon as you —"

She stopped talking at the sight of her great-uncle, Dumbledore smiled at her and walked in.

"I can't stay for breakfast, but I dare say I regret it deeply."

"Professor... I — Is everything okay?"

"Certainly."

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Mel turned to see her mother standing near the stairs, gazing at Dumbledore coldly.

"Emily," Dumbledore said. "Good morning... I'm here to speak with Mr Flint."

"Is he in trouble?"

"Quite the contrary, I believe he's never been better."

"Professor," Erick's posture changed when he walked into the room, suddenly he looked more like a young man and less like a boy. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a mission for you... Mel as well, but only if she wishes to go."

"She's not of age," The woman replied quickly.

Mel was ready to accept whatever it was he wanted her to do, she needed to feel like she was doing something. Although she wasn't exactly happy to see him so soon after the end of their last term.

"As I said, only if she wishes to come. I assure you she'd be safe."

The girl looked at her mother and then at the men standing in front of her.

"Can I hear what this is about first?"

Emily crossed her arms without uttering a word, her uncle signalled towards the couch.

"A word, then?"

Erick nodded, making a beeline to the closest armchair. Emily turned to leave, but Dumbledore spoke again.

"You can stay."

The woman shared a look with her daughter, Mel couldn't hide her eagerness to hear what the old man had to say.

"I won't sit there and watch history repeat itself," Emily sighed.

The woman left before Mel could say anything. She would talk to her later, but first, she needed to talk to Dumbledore.

"I beg you not to interrupt me while I speak."

Both pupils silently agreed to his petition.

"Now, I find myself in need of a new Professor, but the man I'd been contemplating for the job has been on the run for almost a year — He's not guilty of any crimes," He added, noticing the way their faces grew worried. "He's just afraid like everyone else... I need you to track him down and point me to where he is so I can have a word with him."

"I'll do it," Erick responded instantly.

"Alone?" Mel frowned.

Dumbledore stared at her for a second too long.

"If I remember correctly today is your sixteenth birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Mr Flint turned seventeen in January — You may know that's considered to be the start of our adulthood."

"Yes."

"Erick is allowed to do magic outside school... But you still have a year left."

"I don't see —"

"You have Matthew's spirit when it comes to saving a friend, Mel. When you were eleven you left this house with Hagrid so you could look for Harry yourself... The time has come for me to finally be honest with you."

"What do you mean 'finally'?" The words were burning a hole in her brain. "You mean all the things you told me when I was in your office last month... that wasn't it?"

Erick stared at them with polite interest, even though she knew he was dying to ask. Mel hadn't told him a thing about that night out of respect for Harry's privacy.

"That was all I had to tell you regarding the Harry," Dumbledore replied. "There are plenty of things I haven't said, and I wish to talk about them with you."

"And if I agree to go with Erick on this mission... you'll tell me?" Mel raised a brow.

"I'll tell you whether you help me with this or not, but I believe there's nothing else I can teach you, Mel. All that's left for you is to start putting your knowledge to use; I recommend you to go on this mission."

"What about my animagus lessons?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I'll help you with that, but that'll be it. You've concluded your lessons with the highest marks, dear girl."

She would've been elated hadn't been because of the strange way her uncle was acting.

"Aren't you happy?" Erick nudged her arm gently. "You've worked hard for years, you should be proud!"

"I am proud," Mel replied shortly. "And I'd love to help, but I can't leave my family, it's not safe."

"They'd go to the burrow if you leave."

"What about Harry?"

"He'll go to the burrow too, but I have a few matters to attend with his family first."

"If Mel wants to stay that's alright, I can go on my own —"

"You can't."

Erick looked at her irritated.

"It's not like you can do magic outside school."

"It takes more than magic to survive out there — You don't know how to blend in with the muggles, do you?"

"You can discuss this throughout the day," Dumbledore grabbed a letter from his pocket. "In this, you'll find all about Horace Slughorn's last known whereabouts and a picture so you can identify him. If you do, don't approach, he'll know you're following him. As soon as you find him come back to Privet Drive and write to me."

"This is all just in case we decide to go, right?"

"I'm going," Erick scowled at her.

"We'll talk about this after dinner," She glared back.

Dumbledore stood up and they followed, Emily was at the entrance ready to let him out.

"I'll wait for your response, then," Her uncle stared at her for a moment. "You and Harry..."

"We haven't decided," She was quick to reply. "We need time."

"Very well."

"You're quiet."

"I have a lot to think about."

Her day had been slightly ruined by her great-uncle's visit. Although Lupin had been there for a couple of hours and stayed for dinner. Mel and Erick talked about the mission and she'd promised to tell Harry after the party was over, which was now.

The Slytherin was upstairs taking a shower and Emily was putting Reggie to bed. Mel and Harry were sitting on the grass, watching the stars above them. She'd fallen into contemplative silence, pondering what to do. She could go chase some stranger for Dumbledore's benefit, or she could stay and look after her family.

"This would be much easier if my mum had asked me to stay!" She pouted.

"I reckon she knows that," Harry responded, throwing small rocks over the fence.

"Won't you?"

"Hmm?"

"You won't ask me to stay?"

Harry stared at her.

"No."

He didn't explain his reasons, but he didn't need to. Mel had made up her mind even if she didn't want to admit it. That was exactly why she was so upset, she wanted to look after her family, but her responsibilities were keeping her apart. Three years of hard work had led to this, and although Mel was a big sister now, winning the war was more important than changing diapers.

Her mother was a whole different problem too. Around them she was always cheery, but Mel was sure she'd heard her cry when none of the boys was around to hear.

She believed it was about Sirius, but it could also be about her and Harry, that she was scared for them. Mel didn't have the heart to lie if her mother were to ask about the prophecy. It was, as they had agreed without even having to speak about it, too much weight to put on their loved one's shoulders. The idea of Emily, the closest thing to a mother Harry ever had, finding out there was a big chance one of them would die after having lost Sirius in such a brutal way...

"I don't think I'll be able to look at Dumbledore in the eye if I come back empty-handed..."

"You're one of the best witches I know," Harry shrugged. "You'll be fine, just try not to murder Flint while you're away."

"He's less annoying now," She grinned. "Ever since he left his parents' house, dunno, he's improved. Although I might murder him if he doesn't stop —"

She was going to say 'flirting', but for some reason, she didn't feel ready to talk about that with Harry. She wasn't ready for anything and yet the world was forcing her to keep moving, it was exhausting.

Mel got up and offered her hand to her friend.

"Do you remember when you were just Harry and I was just Mel, and we were the odd kids at school?" She fixed her gaze on her bedroom window. "Wish we could go back to that."

"When I didn't know I was a wizard?"

"Things were easier back then, don't you think?"

"Maybe," He retorted. "But they were never entirely good."

In Harry, Mel found another reason to stay.

They could have the summer to talk about the things they needed to. She would stare at his aged features and compare them to the ones of that young boy she used to call her best friend...

Their bond still had thousands of cracks that had to be fixed, Mel was having a hard time letting him in again and they needed to be okay in order to know if they wanted to keep the lifeline or not. It wasn't that she didn't want to like him, she wanted the comfort he used to provide, the warmth and security of having someone who understood.

He knew it, and he was trying his best to not mess it up, but Mel didn't want to love him again, cutting the lifeline was the best way to assure that... It was easier said than done, though.

Harry was confused. Sometimes it felt like nothing would ever happen, then an overwhelming affection would crush his chest whenever Mel laughed or touched him. He didn't want to put a name to it, he was terrified of saying it, even to himself. All he knew was that the connection was a way to make sure Mel would be safe, and he didn't want to give that up.

"I should go."

"Yeah..."

"Happy birthday," He said. "I have to be honest and tell you that your present was meant to be sent last Christmas, but..."

"I didn't give you a present either, it's okay... I'm a bit angry though, that was a missed opportunity, I could've won."

Harry laughed.

"You'll have a new chance this year, but I doubt you'll be able to beat me — I've already gotten yours..."

"It's July!"

"I know," His smile vanished suddenly, then he added. "Be careful out there, please."

"Erick'll make sure I don't do anything stupid," Mel smiled. "He's so obsessed with protecting me — as if he didn't know I can do it alone just fine!"

"Yeah, but now's different."

"Different how?"

"We need you alive," He told her. "You want to live long enough to become Headmistress, right?"

Mel froze, not knowing what to answer.

"What?" Harry tilted his head.

"I lied," She blurted out. "I never wanted to be Headmistress — I saw you that night, in the mirror... I saw..."

"What?" He asked again, this time softer.

"You kissed me. A real kiss... like the type we used to gawk at as children."

Harry cleared his throat. "Oh."

A tense silence surrounded them. The variations of colour in his eyes were remarkably easy to notice from where she was standing. She was tilting her head up now, perhaps they were too close.

"Be careful."

"You told me that already," Mel whispered, unable to look away. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Yes," He paused, his eyes took a quick glance to her lips. "But if I say it you'll get mad."

Harry kissed her, Mel responded by pulling him down.

It was hard to tell whether she was euphoric or scared, perhaps both, or perhaps neither. As soon as it happened Harry jumped away, and she was dropped back into reality.

"I can't do it — We haven't talked about the lifeline — We won't make the right choice if we let our feelings —"

"You're right! Yes!" Mel said, acting just as agitated. "It's a terrible idea — I like you, but—"

"—it's confusing," He said anxiously. "Do you have feelings for me?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" Mel asked in a high-pitched voice.

"No!" He responded, but his voice trembled with a lack of confidence. "I care about you a lot —"

"— I care for you too —"

"— But just —"

"— as friends!"

They stared at each other with the same frightened expression.

"I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable," He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I... I don't want to lose you."

"We need to spend some time apart," She nodded, avoiding his eyes. "We can ignore this happened, right?"

"Absolutely," He agreed. "You're spending the summer at the burrow?"

"My mum and my brother will be there, so I kind of have to... is that okay?"

"It's okay," Harry looked around. "We... we should go."

"Did you ever regret falling for my dad?" Mel asked randomly. "I mean, you ever wonder how things would've turned out if you'd stayed as friends?"

Emily stopped folding her clothes.

"Something nagging that head of yours?"

"I think relationships are a waste of time. They all break and you always end up hurting..."

"What makes you think such nonsense?" Emily raised a brow, leaning back on the couch. "Who are you and what did you do to my daughter?"

"You don't think that way?" She asked doubtfully.

"Because I lost my partners that means I have to be bitter?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Mel replied quickly. "But... yeah."

Emily remained silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"Solitude can do weird things to your heart, love. It can pull you towards bad or good places... People that make you feel a little less lonesome, someone who understands you. You should hold onto that for as long as you can, no matter how scary it is. You never know what wonderful things may bring you..."

"Sirius said something similar a year ago," Mel said quietly. "Something about finding my equal, that the earth's full of options and stuff..."

"I won't force you to find a partner if that's not what you want, but you're young and the world is big, you can't turn your back on every opportunity."

"It's not like I have lots of prospects right now..." She huffed.

"You don't need lots, just the right one."

Mel hesitated for a moment, then added:

"I know you used to have a crush on James Potter."

Emily looked up from the laundry again, she raised a brow. "Oh?"

"I know it was a long time ago," She shifted in her place awkwardly. "But do you ever wonder what would've happened if you two..?"

The woman sighed.

"Only once."

"When?"

"When I found out Voldemort was after his son," She folded the last shirt and handed it to Mel. "I asked myself if I had made the right choice by giving him up... When I look at you I know it was the right thing to do. What happened to James and Lily... it was horrible, but it wasn't my fault. I was happy with your father; maybe Matthew wasn't my first love, but when it comes to this, your first love rarely is the one that lasts."

"Mel?" Erick walked into the room. "If we're planning to drive around all day tomorrow, you should sleep," He nodded shortly at both of them and left the room, her mother chuckled.

"You know, Erick reminds me of your father... I know Sirius said he was like his brother, but Regulus made all the wrong choices... Erick's done all this for himself, to be better. Just like Matty."

Mel's gaze lingered on the doorway long after Erick had left.

"Thank you, for letting me go," She sighed, looking back at the woman. "I don't love following Dumbledore's orders but I... I want to make this world a better place."

"Love," Emily cupped her face adoringly. "I know why you're doing this. Just how I knew why you flew that car to save Harry, and why you went to the Ministry... but you're my daughter, and it's my job to worry about you anyway."

Erick and Mel took three changes of clothing and put them in the trunk, Emily gave them muggle money. Mel had a fake driver's license as well as Erick, and they would take turns driving. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but it was expected since it was five in the morning. She hadn't mentioned the kiss to either her mother or Erick, she was determined to keep it that way, much like the whole lifeline stuff and the prophecy.

'Just pile more secrets on top, why don't you,' She thought bitterly as she walked out of the house.

Emily hugged both and let them kiss Reggie goodbye, Mel promised they would see each other soon, and Erick vowed he'd make sure Mel would be safe (she snorted loudly at this). Once inside the car, her friend took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"This isn't our first adventure, Prince."

"This one's the first we do with permission."

"You're an adult, you don't need anyone's approval."

"You know what I mean," He rolled his eyes.

"Sorry. I get defensive when I'm —"

"I know," He sighed. "I talk too much when I'm worried."

"I know," She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'm ready... We'll be okay."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter xoc #harry potter fanfiction #WITT fic

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rustycottoncandy · 3 years

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Imagine that 6 of your ocs were forced to fight against each other to the death in a battlefield and say how would it go.

Here's mine:

Characters:

Mel: An enthusiastic and chaotic 10-year-old who likes to go on adventures

Dave: A sarcastic half-dead guy who doesn't have the strength to fight so humilliates his adversaries instead. He won't be half-dead on this scenario.

Sebastian: An intimidating but sweet half-dead guy who likes to tell jokes and has a trauma with fire. Dave's best friend. He won't be half-dead on this scenario.

Kelsea: A chaotic murderer and a psychopath.

Sugarball: A sweet cat made out of cotton candy (Or just smells like it- I haven't decided yet) who is very agile but unfortunately has very tiny paws and can't fight without company.

Lizy: A shy cat who doesn't like to fight. Sugarball's bestie.

Fight:

So I'm not actually going to write the scenario but I'll give an idea of how it would be and maybe I can write it later.

I feel like Mel and Sugarball would become friends. That would bring Lizy too and they would fight side-by-side. Mel would be Sugarball's legs since she's quite fast and Sugarball would attack jumping to people's faces and scratching them. She wouldn't do a lot of damage, so their fighting strategy wouldn't work really well. Meanwhile, Lizy would just hide in Mel's sweater.

Dave and Sebastian would go together. Sebastian would punch whoever dared to attach Dave and Dave would emotionally take down whoever messed with Sebastian. Such a great team.

Kelsea would go by her own. She'd use a knife and would take down people by their back. Even though she'd murder people without regrets, she'd still have some mercy for children, so she'd probably end up by Sugarball, Lizy and Mel's side

Deaths

Dave would be the first one, killed by Kelsea. Mel would get traumatized and switch sides. She'd spend the rest of the time trying to comfort Sebastian by his loss. Lizy would still be in her sweater.

Kelsea would kill Lizy in front of Mel's eyes to get her to learn what happened when she betrayed the ones by her side, giving her more trauma and earning Sugarball's hate. She'd probably go away from her.

Sebastian would take revenge on Kelsea, killing here while everyone were asleep, since he'd get the chance to take her knife.

Trying to survive by her own, Sugarball would accidentally eat a poisonous plant and die.

End

The only survivors would be Mel and Sebastian, since none of them would be capable of killing eachother.

#my ocs #my stuff #do this with your ocs

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

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untitled | m. rantanen (fic preview)

a/n: i’ve been talking about this fic a lot, so here’s a little 1.6K. it’s very much not done. it doesn’t even have a title yet, but i hope you all like mikko and jo as much as i do! i ended up writing with an oc so i could write this how i envisioned. let me know what you think!!

Jo tugged at her sweater, pulling at the sleeves, at the slightly too tight bottom band, at the neckline, really any part that was touching her skin. It was itchy beyond belief, but she was pretty sure that she was about to take home the non-existent prize of ugliest Christmas sweater at the party tonight. Jo had been out with Helena for dinner, so she threw the sweater on in the car on the way over to Gabe’s and was regretting never having tried it on before this moment. But, the look on Mikko’s face when he saw just how ugly the sweater was would be worth her temporary discomfort.

She punched in the gate code at Gabe’s and made her way up the driveway, smiling the whole way, something Jo had been doing a lot more of lately than she usually did. She told herself it was the hometown air, mile high and clearer than any other city. She told herself it was the fresh snow falling regularly now, deep into December. She told herself it was Christmas and a lot of people were happier around Christmas. Jo’s happiness wasn’t temporary though. It was a shift, slow and steady, a constant pressure forcing her out of the mindset she settled in years ago, the one where she always needed to be pleasing other people to be happy, the one where she needed everyone’s approval to find her own joy. She knew the clearer air, the snow, and the holidays weren’t the pressure. The pressure was a tall, somehow clumsy Finn who wanted nothing more than to see Jo smile every single day.

He didn’t try to make her happy with jokes and gimmicks and other things that were essentially bandaids to Jo’s heaviness. He didn’t try to pull a funny face while jumping just high enough for Jo to see from the other side of the walls she has built to protect herself, the ones she thought were too high for anyone to climb. Mikko wasn’t climbing them, knowing full and well that him getting over them wouldn’t truly help Jo. It would make her just okay for a little while longer, make the way she lived a little more bearable, until it destroyed them both. Mikko was taking the walls apart, brick by brick, his patience and his steadiness guiding the way. He never got frustrated when some of the bricks went back up in the middle of the night while he slept. He got up the next morning all the same and went back to work, taking the walls apart piece by piece, at whatever pace Jo would accept. Mikko hadn’t given up in four months, and he wasn’t planning on it, not until all the walls were gone and the bricks were destroyed, crumbled back into dust, and Jo could see herself the way he saw her the few times he managed to make a hole in the wall and actually see her behind all her defenses.

Jo opened the door into Andre Burakovsky. It was an accident and he shouldn’t have been standing directly in front of the front door and he wasn’t hurt in the slightest, but Jo felt bad about it all the same.

“I’m dumb, it’s my fault,” he assured her. His mouth dropped open when he saw her sweater as Jo hung up her jacket in the front closet. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen and I wish we had a contest because you’d so win.”

“I would so win,” Jo agreed, fussing with her curls to get them reasonably back into place

“There should be a contest. Maybe you can bully Gabe into getting some sort of prize anyway because you deserve it, ” Andre told her, his signature wide smile on his face. “He’s in the family room last I saw him by the way, since I know you’re looking for him.”

Jo blushed at Andre’s words. He had caught her eyes tracking over the party that was in full swing, looking for the guy who had technically invited her, but she probably could’ve shown up anyway without his invite. She ducked out on Andre, blush still deepening with him laughing in the background, and made her way through the living room and kitchen into Gabe’s family room. She was old news by now, a days old newspaper no one wanted to read anymore, and it was Jo’s favorite thing about the Colorado Avalanche. She was Mikko’s friend Jo. Full stop. No additions necessary.

“Jojo!”

Jo heard Mikko before she saw him. She technically felt him before she saw him either as two heavy, muscled, ugly sweater covered arms wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground, making her squeal.. He was laughing as soon as her feet left the ground. Jo’s hands gripped one of Mikko’s forearms around her waist to steady herself as Mikko rocked slowly side to side, weight shifting from foot to foot, with Jo in the air in his arms.

“Mikko!” Jo shouted through her laughter. “Put me down!”

“You’re so easy to pick up though, and now you can actually see the party,” Mikko pointed out unhelpfully.

He set her down anyway, knowing that when Josephine Evans made up her mind, such as wanting to be put down, she was a woman who would figure out how to get her way, Mikko’s shins be damned if that’s what it took. Mikko had a game to play the day after today and wasn’t excited about doing it with shins bruised by Jo’s boots.

“This sweater,” Mikko breathed out as Jo turned to face him. He was in disbelief as he looked at it, “Jo, this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Are you proud?”

Jo spun slowly on her heels, letting Mikko take in the absolute monstrosity she had bought to wear just for this. Mikko was in disbelief, written plainly all over his face, as he observed the sweater in all its terrible glory. Jo had more than delivered when he texted her and said it was an ugly Christmas party. Mikko loved the sweater, a true ugly beauty, but he thought the best part was that Jo put her hair in those little half space buns, the rest of her hair in curls falling down her back. He thought she was the cutest person he’d ever seen and he only knew one way to deal with it in a healthy way Jo would actually appreciate.

Appreciate might have been the wrong word.

Mikko reached out with two large hands and gave her little half buns a squeeze while saying, “Your antlers are cute.”

“Mikko, I swear to god, one day you’re going to die and it’s because I kill you,” Jo informed him with a tone so casual you would think she had just ordered a breakfast sandwich.

“And what a way to go,” Mikko just laughed in response. “Mel made spiked eggnog. You interested?”

Mikko knew Jo was interested before he had even asked, which is why it didn’t surprise him in the slightest that she took off for the kitchen, dragging him by his hand to get to the eggnog. Mikko had released when he stepped into Jo’s apartment on November 3rd, almost two months ago now, just how much Jo loved Christmas, because it had already been decorated that day he walked in. She had offered no explanation for the decorations being up so early other than that it was her apartment, she could do what she damn well pleased, and if Mikko didn’t like it, he could damn well leave. He stayed. Mikko always stayed when Jo was involved.

“Those are some pours there, Jo,” Mikko told her as he eyed the cups Jo was already filling for them from the pot. “Trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re a growing boy,” Jo countered, shoving a full cup into Mikko’s waiting hand. “Drink your milk and maybe you’ll grow big and strong.”

Mikko couldn’t help but laugh. He might make Jo laugh a lot and Mikko laughed a lot in general, but no one made him laugh more than Jo. Even on his worst days, even on Jo’s worst days for that matter, she could always pry a full bellied laugh out of him. It wasn’t even prying. Mikko would willingly give it over to her even when all she offered him was a shitty joke in exchange. It wasn’t lost on Mikko why that was. It wasn’t lost on anyone in the room, or really anyone who had ever spent four minutes in the same room as Mikko and Jo. Mikko looked at Jo differently from other people. Debate what you want about loving someone or being in love with someone, Mikko knew Jo didn’t want him to be in love with her and he respected her wishes more than how he wished she felt, but Mikko Rantanen loved Josephine Evans and it had taken only a few months for it to happen. Mikko realized it the other day on the plane coming back from a road trip. All he wanted was for the plane to get to altitude so he could turn on his phone and text Jo about something funny that had happened since his phone had been in airplane mode. All he wanted to do was get home and see her. All he wanted was her. And that’s not how you feel about people you don’t love.

#fic preview

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pinkdaisies34 · 4 years

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You Make My Dreams Come True (Connor Murphy x OC) Part 1

I slammed the car door and walked slowly towards the school. It was the first day back so the steps to the entrance were filled with people catching up with their friends. I scanned the groups in front of me, searching for my best friend Melissa. “Hey Iz!” I grinned at her and she pulled me into a hug. “I’ve missed you, can’t believe how quickly this summer went!” “I know! Missed you as well, wish you could have come to England with me.” My family had decided to spend the whole summer back in England where most of my family lived. I had joined Roosevelt High school last year and had quickly became friends with Mel after she showed me round.

“I can’t believe you and Mike broke up at the end of summer!” Mel exclaimed as we went to find our new lockers. despite me telling her that a. I didn’t want to talk about it and b. we had only been together for 3 months so wasn’t a proper relationship. Mike was cute and had been nice enough but I never felt a spark and towards the end of summer felt like it just wasn’t working. He had been upset and I was dreading seeing him around but I didn’t see the point in staying with someone who I wasn’t that interested in. “Oh god. Look who’s back!” Mel hissed in my ear. I turned around and saw Connor Murphy in front of me. His hair had grown a lot over summer, a style I couldn’t help noticing that he suited. Despite it being warm outside, he was wearing a massive coat and black lace up boots. He was frantically trying to open his locker and seemed to be getting more annoyed every time he tried. “I’m just going to go and and help him..” I started walking towards him when Mel grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Knowing him, he’ll hit you or something!” I rolled my eyes at her. Mel had always been negative about Connor Murphy, claiming that he had thrown a printer at a teacher when he was younger and had been suspended from a private school he went to for dealing drugs. Connor had clearly overheard us and turned around, glaring at us both before storming off. “I can’t believe Zoe is his sister, poor her” Mel sighed and started putting her books into her locker. I had never spoken to Zoe but she had always seemed nice and I knew she was involved in a band at school. Connor and her were like chalk and cheese; Zoe had a big friend group whilst Connor didn’t seem to hang out with anyone.

I glanced around the school corridor, I always found it interesting seeing how people changed over summer. Over by the water foundation, I spotted Evan Hansen. Evan was in my History and English class and rarely spoke in either unless forced to by the teacher. I had smiled at him a few times when seeing him in class but he often seemed nervous about making eye contact and had just looked away when I did. His style clearly hadn’t changed over summer as he was wearing the same blue polo shirt and jeans he always wore last year but instead he had a arm cast. I frowned at it, wondering what had happened. He was chatting away to Jared, who was clearly not listening as he was staring at Brittany Snow. As soon as Connor stormed back past, I noticed Jared raise an eyebrow. “Hey Murphy! Nice hair, very school shooter chic!” Connor immediately froze and narrowed his eyes at Jared. “It’s just a joke, you freak” Jared muttered before walking off. “What are you looking at?! Connor snapped at a nervous looking Evan. “Nothing” Evan whimpered before laughing nervously. “I’m not the freak, you are!” Connor pushed him over and rushed off towards the school grounds, clearly upset. Most people just stood there in shock before a girl with violet streaks in her hair rushed over; Zoey Murphy. “I’m so sorry! He’s such a douche” she muttered whilst helping Evan up.

Connor Murphy became the talk of the school over lunch. Everyone was whispering to their friends about him pushing Evan and how he was such a bully. Part of me felt sorry for him. If Jared had not made the stupid comment then he wouldn’t have felt so upset. After grabbing lunch in the canteen with Mel, I decided to try and find Connor. I felt bad for not sticking up for him and wanted to see if he was okay. I walked out onto the empty football pitch, trying to find him. A group of seniors I didn’t know were nearby and I asked them if they had seen him anywhere, one of them pointed to a far away tree and I walked over. Connor was sat with his back against the tree trunk, smoking a spliff. I suddenly felt nervous, I haven’t properly spoken to him before and a fact I hadn’t told Mel or anyone else was that I had a slight crush on him since first seeing him last year. When Mel had been giving me the tour of the school, Connor had been sitting outside the counsellor’s office, staring at the wall. “Hi Murphy” Mel called out to him as we walked slowly pastand he glanced in our direction, his brown eyes meeting mine, causing butterflies to rise in my stomach. He was much better looking than I expected (Mel hadn’t been very kind about his looks or personality) and each time I saw him after, the butterflies grew. Despite his temper issues, he didn’t seem like a bad person; just misunderstood. His eyes were closed and he looked a lot more relaxed than earlier. I coughed and he opened his eyes slowly, his expression changing to annoyance as soon as he noticed me. “You can tell whoever sent you that I’m not going back in there” he snapped and grabbed a book next to him. “Just tell them I’m catching up on work.” “No one sent me, I just wanted to check you’re alright.” He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing me. “I’m fine, I have everything I need.” I stood there, feeling awkward. He pushed his bag to the side and indicated that I should sit down. “So you’re really here to check I’m okay?” He asked before looking confused when I nodded. He smiled slightly, which made the butterflies appear again. “Thanks I guess” he muttered, “so you joined last year?” I returned the smile and started telling him about new life in the US.

#dear evan hansen #connor murphy #fanfic #deh fanfic #connor x oc

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sveasauvageon · 4 years

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Ce qu'il a donné Un an, deux ans, cent ans de bonheur Puis la vie te cueille comme une fleur || GW

☾♔; March 5, 2018 ☾♔; sotd: Котик by Alexander Rybak ☾♔; comedian otd: JOHN OLIVER ☾♔; GW To do list ☾♔; {G} https://goo.gl/XSTtMc ☾♔; mod(s): @themadmonarchist @maybones et moi

Title: lyrics from "Requiem" by Alma

--featured not-mine oc's - Eloise Avery | @themadmonarchist - Minah Delacroix | @maybones (see what I did there with the Serena and Blair positioning? -eyebrow wriggle thing-)

- - - x - - -

Updated GW to-do list: - Division of labour (we should really start saying when one of us starts working on something because otherwise we'll end up with redundancies since we think disturbingly alike) - the "chuck" problem: okay, tbh, it's more of an Ed Westwick problem than a chuck one. I don't know how you guys have reacted to the me too and time's up movements, but mine has been to cut all those men out of my sphere of entertainment, I even cut out "witch hunt", "not all men" type dudes, and "only fondled their breasts on tv and apologized for it" men (aka Ben Affleck), because time is up for all of you! Soz, not point, but since last October, Ed Westwick has been caught up in this, and thus far 3 women have accused him of ra.pe and a fourth of sexual misconduct. Now, I know it's not Chuck's fault that his portrayer is a ra.pist (allegedly), but there is still an issue with including his face, etc in aesthetics and gossip girl material because his face is that of a ra.pist's (allegedly). Tbh, I wanna leave him (Ed Westwick) out of material and only discuss Chuck and avoid showing his face or use a dreamcast instead, but like, I dunno what you guys wanna do. Chuck is a great character, although, early on, he was quite rap.ey, the character, and it does not help that his portrayer has since been revealed to be a ra.pist. Allegedly.

- also, going back up to the redundancy issues, I love both of your aesthetic collections and playlists, so for those, I was thinking for playlist, we should make one big playlist on spotify that's collaborative, so that everyone can add their music and it'll kind of be a huge explosion of musical tastes. But also, maybe have a collection that has a link on the group info for individual playlists for characters, and the group made by us and/or others. For aesthetic collections, basically the same idea with one big collaborative collection, and then that collection will have links to other collections (yes, I'm a little ocd).

- also, also, this is completely unrelated, but I was watching trevor noah's show and he made a joke about how much trump's male employees snitch and gossip like sht, but the woman haven't revealed squat. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpmlVWFTW8A) It's really funny, and honestly, stupid people fcking up in trump's circle very publically is basically what's keeping me alive. It's just hilarious how stupid some of these people are. ___________________________ Another Update (I'll leave those up until @maybones weighs in on them)

I was working on a draft of the group description to show you guys, and I was using a template of one of my old groups and rewriting stuff and changing it to suit our purposes and I realized how many freaking rules I have (I'm so picky), anyway, some of this stuff obvs won't be applicable (like, there's one about characters dying and I don't think we were planning on going that dark. although, serena was an accessory and chuck kind of killed his dad, so meh, maybe?) anyway, I wanted your opinions on what rules to keep and/or change:

✠ RULES AND GUIDELINES {GENERAL} ✠

I. Please be kind to each other. Your characters can be total jerks, but let us, the creators and/or writers be kind, polite, and respectful (aka, channel your inner Canadian guys). There will be absolutely ZERO tolerance of discrimination. You will be immediately removed from the group, and your actions will be documented and reported. PM me immediately if someone harasses you or you notice harassment between members. ⠀⠀Ia. If you want to be anonymous, for any reason, you can send in your complaints here {https://goo.gl/kbTXeU}, it's a google form, and it doesn't ask you verify your email, and the username option, is just an option, it's not required. If I need to make further contact/information from you regarding your concern, I'll make a group announcement vaguely describing your issue, and you can send in further information anonymously again. I'll be checking the form at least once a week.

⠀II. I'm not giving this any specific rating, however, I will say, you're free to include whatever "adult" content you want, whether it be swears, gore, or the dirty stuff (I'm totally a mature, grown up adult guys). However, do be careful of polyvore's stupid censors, use workarounds like writing your story in google docs, or accents for swear words.

⠀III. This is a non-elimination group, but characters can die. It may be used for inactive members, or if you wanna kill 'em off or maybe revive as a ghost or something else. Permission will always be asked of the creator first (with the exception of characters belonging to inactive members, whose characters may be killed off as penalty).

⠀IV. If you miss 3 consecutive contests (without informing me), you'll receive an "x", "|" will be used to break up non-consecutively missed contests, anyway, if you miss 3 in a row, that will open your character to be killed by either myself or other group members. You will be notified, but your permission will not be asked. If you wish to rejoin at a later date, and you character has not been killed off, simply pm me and continue with whatever contest is in progress. If your character has been killed off, you can re-audition with a new one, and I will transfer your points to your new character.

⠀V. Always pm me, your vodka aunt mod, if you feel you'll be unable to enter a contest, your reason doesn't matter. Just let me know you can't get your entry in, that way you won't receive an "X".

⠀VI. Plotting will be left open throughout the group, however, please establish a few of these before contests begin, and always ask permission when using someone else's character(s) and be sure to tag them in your sets. Please, PLEASE work with others, I hate when people just do their own thing in oc battle groups, this is a collaborative story, everyone's stories and ideas matter. I will call you out if I notice something that contradicts the connected story, and I will always, ALWAYS incorporate the stories of group members into the overall narrative. ⠀⠀VIa. Narrative precedence will always be given to the person who completely finishes the description of their set first.

⠀VII. There is not a list of roles to pick from, you can create whatever roles you want, however, I may ask you to change it if I feel your character may become "villager number 6" and not fit in with the action. Rules, regulations, and suggestions for roles can be found here: [placeholder].

⠀VIII. Always be sure to tag the member's when you use their characters and give credit where credit is due.

⠀IX. Plagiarism will not be tolerated and you will be removed and reported. If you're inspired by someone else's work, credit them, otherwise you're stealing.

⠀X. Sets unrelated to the group will be removed.

⠀XI. You will NOT be required to write out a full story. Story portions can be answered in paragraphs, but full stories are always welcome and appreciated.

⠀XII. Do not use templates for contest entries unless otherwise stated.

⠀XIII. Always feel free to contact me with any and all questions, and/or suggestions. You can also send them through the anonymous complaints form, found here: https://goo.gl/kbTXeU

_________________________________

✠ RULES AND REGULATIONS {FACECLAIMS} ✠

I'm quite picky about these, but I'm not gonna be pedantic about it this time. You do you. Having said that, there are still some rules and regulations, as well as a challenge.

⠀I. All faceclaims must be above the age of majority (that's 18+ nearly universally on the planet), there is an exception for child characters but all main OCs must be at least 18.

⠀II. All faceclaims MUST be professionals. They can be actors, models, even singers. However, they must be singers of some note signed onto a label company, like Taylor Swift, or my beloved Dima Bilan (who's also an actor. a good one. yes, I'm bragging). Your faceclaim CANNOT be someone insta-famous, youtubers, or tumblr tweens.

⠀III. Whilst I'm not going to reject any faceclaim on the pedantic basis of "I don't like them", there are some faceclaims that I will and for one reason, and one reason only. Sexual misconduct of any and all kinds. Hollywood and the media are finally cleaning house, and I don't want those dicks in my nerd sht either. To be clear, I don't care whether the misconduct was simply groping a woman's breasts on camera and apologizing about 10 years later, I am going to reject everyone who's been accused. Examples include; Ben Affleck, Casey Affleck, Ed Westwick, Jeffrey Tambor, Danny Masterson, Andy Dick, Dustin Hoffman, and fcking Mel Gibson. (Side note, these are just actors, for a wider list of men who have fallen since the Harvey Weinstein story broke in October 2017, I recommend you check out this article {https://goo.gl/Uq65Qv} by the NY Times) ⠀⠀IIIa. If you notice I have accepted someone who has been accused of sexual misconduct/harassment/assault please inform me right away, and ideally with a link to a news source from where you learned about (I will google it myself, but the ready-to-go link would be much appreciated.) ⠀⠀IIIb. Also, Alec Baldwin is on my list of rejected faceclaims. He's not been accused of anything, yet, but I'm not liking his defensive attitude of alleged rapists. Fúck off. Matt Damon also falls under subsection B, for a slightly different reason, but fúck him too. In this watershed moment, I have no time for defensive d i c k s and "not all men" a s s h o l e s.

⠀IV. The Challenge: a lot of us have certain fave fc's we use over and over again (I'm certainly guilty of that), so my challenge is for you to use a faceclaim you have never used before as your primary oc. This is gonna be based on the honour system, some of you guys I may know well, so I'll know if you're using your fave again, but others I may not, and I can't aggressively stalk everyone, so I won't call out anyone for not doing it. It's just a fun little challenge, worth 10 bonus points, if you opt to do it. But again, it's based on the honour system, I'm not gonna stalk anyone, but if I know you and you lie to me on the audition form. First, I'll be hurt, and second, I'll say sorry and tell you you're not getting those bonus points.

(I know, two sets of rules makes me such a di.ck, it's why I need your help guys!)

#polyvore #gw #eloise avery #Svea Sauvageon #minah delacroix #doll set #mine #anna #may

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irageneveart · 6 years

Text

The Act of Being

Pairing: 2018 Michael Myers x OC

Chapter 1

Words: 2850

Warnings: violence, blood, death, mild gore

A/N: Hi <3 it took me forever to build up the courage to write something for this beautiful community, but here I am with the 1st chapter for Michael Myers’s story. There are plenty more things to see in the following chapters and I have plans for other slashers as well. Please let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more, constructive criticism is always welcomed!

31 October 2021

For a moment she didn't understand what was going on. Her shoulder felt numb and she felt the t-shirt sticking on her skin, wet. Everything happened too fast, she bolted forward and only when she reached the other room she felt the pain, the blood, and everything clicked. Her friends weren't hiding and her imagination wasn't playing tricks when in the corner of her eye she saw a glimmer in the moonlight. The knife that was meant to strike straight to her heart hit her arm instead, and that only because she wanted a bit of that pistachio.

She kept running, quickly looking around for a place to hide or something to defend herself with, not realizing she was holding her breath all this time. She felt herself shaking, anxious and nervous as if she saw a ghost. And that was the weirdest part, because she did see a ghost. One that had a pale white face with cold void eyes, wielding a kitchen knife covered in her friends' blood. She slipped into a little hall, trying to be as quiet as the wooden floor would let her. The door closed soundless behind her, and she let out a deep sigh. Straightening her back, she knew exactly where she had to go.

Three years ago the Shape of Haddonfield escaped, determined to finish what he started 40 years ago. That determination was something anyone would envy, if they had the nerve to joke about Michael Myers. What once was only a tale of the Boogeyman, for some it was too real to even think about. There was a problem though, he didn't manage to do it, and he ended up in a huge fire locked in the basement by the very one Laurie Strode he was trying to kill.

She slowly reached the kitchen and the fact that the house was completely silent behind her made her stomach heavy. Where is he? The kitchen door opened with a slight crack, making her bite her lower lip, a reaction that came in handy when it stopped her from screaming as the room revealed itself to her. Melanie was there on the table, with her neck wide open and her beautiful green eyes lifeless, staring into nothingness. She slowly got closer, chewing on her own lip to stop herself from tearing up, and she closed her friend's eyes, hypnotized by how perfect and deep the flesh was cut. The blood was still slightly pulsing. Poor thing, she thought as she moved past her, Melanie always liked the color red. The blood was dripping from the blonde's neck onto the table and then on the floor, a gruesome cascade thriving underneath the corpse.

After that Halloween night, Michael's body was never found, and Laurie with her daughter and granddaughter disappeared. Teachers, classmates, workmates, no one knew where they were. And maybe that was for the best, maybe it was the sign that it will finally end.

Passing the kitchen without looking back was the heaviest task she had to do, but there was someone else in the house and there was no time for mourning. Not yet. She will mourn later if she managed to get out alive, she promised.

She cursed under breath; Evan's house was too big. She only made it to the main stairs after what felt like forever and a day, thoughts bouncing in her head the entire way. A feeling was choking her. She pressed her back against the wall, walking upstairs as close to it as possible to avoid any sound from the wooden stairs. The feeling of guilt was so heavy in her throat she couldn't even swallow well. Probably all her friends were dead, was she supposed to escape? Was it fine for her to live while they died in the room next to her, while she did nothing? Every muscle in her body was tensed, and she often found herself holding her breath with every step. There was a paranoid fear that he would jump from anywhere, as if any dark corner had a Michael Myers clown box waiting for her. Fear, guilt, anxiety, adrenaline, pain, too many emotions were going to make her puke.

The following two Halloweens happened like usual: some people died here and there from some bad jokes or too much alcohol in the organized parties, but nothing out of common. And that was the problem; none of them happened in Haddonfield and none of them had Michael's style. That was driving people insane, where was he and what was he doing? Was he really dead this time? Was he planning his revenge or did he change his branding? The thought of uncertainty was much worse than knowing what was going on, therefore people decided to declare him dead for good. And to be fair, they had no evidence to prove he wasn't, so people accepted it.

She knew in her heavy beating heart that Michael Myers was pretty much alive, there was no mistake about it. She felt a sudden anger towards those who lied and acted based on their own fears, maybe Mel would still be alive if they prepared the masses better. But nothing changed the fact that he was there in the house and that he was hunting his last victim for tonight.

She finally reached the end of the stairs. Looking down, the house looked abandoned, haunted even. Ghostly grains of dust were dancing in the moonlight, and that was the only source of light around her. She came here with a purpose, but it was almost impossible to find the attic door without light. That was the only place she could think of that was safe. With no other choice anyway, she tried her best to tip toe with just one foot, feeling around the ceiling.

The door, where is the goddamn attic door. Seconds were passing by and her movements were getting hectic, she started to panic. He was there, she was sure. Did he find her? Was he just finding the good angle to gut her for making him wait this long? Was the attic door even there?

Her breathing rate increased when she felt the handle. Butterflies hit her entire chest from the wave of relieve, she was going to survive. But as soon as she let out a nervous smile, she realized she's far from being safe. Trying to open the attic door as silent as possible seemed like a child's play at that moment, because the real problem was to reach it enough to push it upwards and to climb inside. She needed something, a chair or a table or-

Fuck.

In the frame of the staircase was him, a towering shape in flesh and bones, the knife held so tight in his hand she could see his white knuckles even in the dark. There has been few seconds where neither of them moved, seconds when she could hear her own pulse. They both were waiting. The slightest movement from him made her bolt like a deer escaping the wolf's fangs, limping straight to the bedroom at the end of the hall. The door closed behind her and any chair, furniture, anything she could move was now in front of it. Moments after there were loud bangs into the door, the man behind it trying to break in.

She ran out of rooms to hide and the annexed balcony didn't offer much support in the matter. The balcony doors were crystal clear and the house was taller than the average second floor. She quickly got in the surrounding: Evan's bed, not tall enough. BANG! His wardrobe, not big enough. BANG! Desk, posters, clothes, a ball. Nothing. Nothing to help her. Where was her head when she was in the kitchen, she could take a knife or anything!

Then she suddenly heard it: far off into the distance the police sirens were screaming in panic, and she inhaled so sudden she almost choked herself. She knew he heard them too. There has been a short pause before the hits in the door became more hurried, heavier. He needed the job done.

Everything was now a matter of time. If she could delay him until the cops were there, she would survive the night. The thought didn't even have time to settle in; Michael's crazed hand broke into the wooden door to push and throw whatever was holding it. The next second she was out on the balcony, the cold stinging on her still wet wound. She grabbed one cloth from the floor before switching rooms, trying to knot it around the doorknobs from outside, anything that could hold him back a little longer. She closed her eyes shut finding a baseball bat and holding it tight, just a little longer.

Michael Myers made his way into the bedroom quickly after and he didn't look pleased. His chest was wavering in anger and even if the sirens were getting closer, all she could hear was her mind buzzing like 100 bees at once. It's alright, it's fine, there's still one more door - she kept whispering to herself holding the baseball bat with all her might. He came in front of the balcony doors, looking at the cloth around the handles and then up to her. She felt proud of her little cheat, and the police seemed like just few streets away. The moment the glass door shattered under the masked man's strength, without even trying to open it like a normal person would, her knees went soft giving up underneath her. No! That's not how you open a door!

His heavy boots cracked the broken glass under his steps and her hazel eyes were wide and teary, fixed on the holes of his own. She could only push herself backwards; this was the end of the line. He grabbed her foot pulling her closer, momentarily losing his balance from the force when he only pulled out her prosthetic and a scream. Michael tilted his head looking at the fake leg he was holding.

"Give me back my leg!" his attention was brought back to her, her face red and her eyebrows furrowed. The cops were all just driving in on their street, the lights coloring Michael's white mask in shades of red and blue. He threw the leg away, walking up to her holding his knife up. One strike and everything was going to end. When the knife was seconds away from penetrating her skull, it stopped in front of her suddenly raised hands. In her shaking palms, two candies.

"The-These are my Halloween treats! I'm sharing!" she said with trembling voice, her gaze held down while her hands were up above her head. She was so desperate that even the candies in her jacket seemed like a good idea at the moment. When she actually felt one of the candies getting picked, she raised her head with so much hope in her eyes, only to meet despair seconds later as the knife cut deep into her palm. She cried out as the cops parked the cars and rushed inside, breaking the front door of the house. Michael pulled back the knife, and she jerked herself away, holding her wounded hand and moaning in pain. Switching the angle of the blade he was ready to give the decisive blow, while the girl was supporting herself on the steel bars of the balcony to stand up, whimpering and groaning. She grabbed the bat she dropped earlier and locked her gaze with his. She wasn’t going down yet, her lower lip trembling, but her eyes filled with nothing but determination. He lounged on her and she threw herself to the side, hitting Michael with the bat over the back of his head using all her body weight. He dropped the knife, stumbled upon his own steps and disoriented holding his head. The girl gave one last hit with the bat over the back of his knees, making him lose balance. He tried to grab on the balcony edge for support but the blood she left on the bars made them slippery. Michael Myers fell and hit the steel full on with his cheek, emotionless dropping on the floor.

She was breathing heavily, cold tears falling down her cheeks but her face was screaming anger and pain and triumph. She was still holding the bat, ready for another attack. When the moment didn’t come, she dropped the weapon and gasped for air. She did it, she was alive. She was breathing so fast and so loud she couldn't find her voice to scream for help. Michael wasn't dead, his chest slowly rising and falling, but he wasn't moving and that was good enough. Exhaustion suddenly hit her, eyelids begging to be closed. She inhaled deeply, relaxing her shoulders and exhaling loud and heavy, clouds forming in the cold in front of her. She could hear the cops downstairs, finding body after body. They will come up there too, and she would be finally safe.

She lazily moved her gaze towards the killer, to his mask's eye sockets. The Boogeyman was there, lying flat next to her, hot breathing slightly clouding the front of his face. A sudden thought made her reach out, her body complaining in pain. She wanted to see his face, the face of pure evil. "Please, don't wake up" she whispered exhausted, moving on top of his chest and placing her hands on top of the mask. She suddenly got nervous, everything she heard on TV about him playing all over again in her head. Swallowing hard she slowly raised the dirty mask off his face.

The moment the mask was gone her jaw dropped.

He was...human. She almost felt disappointed. His left eye was heavily scarred, lost probably, and his face was spotted by burned scars badly treated, if treated at all. But there was nothing to scream pure evil, he seemed tired if anything. Her bloody fingers feathery traced his features, afraid not to wake up the beast. From his eyebrow, to his sharp cheekbone that was now bruised and black, and down to his grey beard. There was a tint of sadness in her eyes seeing the white in his beard and his scanty hair. "40 years and other 15 before that, huh..." she quietly said, absently staring to his closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. A question suddenly popped up in her head, her breathing pacing up against his steady one. What are they going to do to you now?

Loud voices on the stairs snapped her back to reality. What are they going to do to him now? It's not her problem, he killed people. He killed Mel. He killed his own sister and hundreds of other people. He was evil, uncontrollable, with no morale of good or bad. Right? That’s what they said, everyone said that. She glanced up through the broken glass that lead into the messy bedroom, waiting the cops to barge in every moment. Was he truly the evil incarnated? Was this man touched by old age and wounded beyond repair everything they said? He never spoke, he never showed them what they wanted. “They just always wanted something from you…” she whispered to herself looking down on his slow breathing chest, almost like a bottom line that just clicked with her. She felt some kind of sympathy staring at him. She furrowed her eyebrows trying to understand the conflicted feelings in her chest. Next to his hand was the candy he took from her, lemon flavored. His hand was missing two fingers and the wound was looking plagued and old. Too many emotions flitted through her mind, unable to make sense of it all. “Did they give you any chance?” She heard her voice cracking in another whisper. A shout in the hallway, a man's voice through the open door "Here! There’s a broken door here!” Her pulse started to race once again. She couldn't let them take him back to the Smith's Grove. Not again. That has never been a good thing. "That's not a way to live." she said through clenched jaw looking at him, with her last powers hiding the mask along her bra line hoping it won't fall down, and starting to scream.

"Here, please!" She needed a lie, something, anything to fool them. "Please help me and-" she paused suddenly, her eyes big. "my father" she whispered in sheer panic, instead of her own voice hearing one of a child, crying and begging to anyone who had ears to hear. The cops surrounded her and Michael, the girl only whispering while staring into nothing, burning tears falling down her cheeks.

"Please help my father, please anyone please help my father" she repeated over and over, not hearing the cops' words of encouragement, not hearing her own voice, not seeing or feeling anything.

Five men raising Michael from the ground was the last thing she saw before a comforting darkness took her.

She could rest, at last.

#ira geneve #michael myers #michael myers x oc #michael myers x reader #halloween 2018 #halloween 1978 #halloween 1981 #the act of being 1 #my writing

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effyeahzimbits · 6 years

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Swawesome Santa 2018 Submission

Title: Five Times Bitty and Jack Allowed Fate to Get the Better of Them…and the One Time They Took Matters into Their Own Hands Rating: T+ Pairings: Jack/Bitty, mentions of Shitty/Lardo, mentions of Holster/Ransom. Very, very brief Jack/OC and Bitty/OC. Warnings: Alcohol use, brief mentions of Jack’s overdose. Summary: Bitty always felt like he was missing a train he was meant to have taken. Jack always let the universe decide which direction he should go in. It took them three New Year's Eves before they got it right.A 5+1 things AU fic created for the Swawesome Santa, gifted to @loveyoutoobits! I hope you like it.

Five Times Bitty and Jack Allowed Fate to Get the Better of Them…and the One Time They Took Matters into Their Own Hands

31st December 2017 Bitty’s first New Year’s Eve in Boston was spent in a bar. He wasn’t a stranger to bars, especially the loud, gaudy one he was in right now. But he had previously rung in the new years with his parents at family parties back in Madison, Georgia, and had been desperate for a change of scenery. When his best friends had suggested a night out on the town, he had jumped at the chance. He never turned down an opportunity to dance and spend the night with his friends. That was also the night he first met Jack Zimmermann.

Now, Bitty didn’t know a great deal about hockey culture. He knew the game and enjoyed it just as much as his friends did, but he never took that much interest in teams’ rosters and star players. But Jack Zimmermann, the Providence Falconers’ current captain, he knew. If only because he scored a hat trick in their last game against the Bruins and Holster was furious for a week. Bitty had been impressed enough to Google him, and had been impressed further by the man’s understated smile and bright blue eyes. Still, he was just another hockey player. Just another hockey player who turned out to be the best friend of Lardo’s new boyfriend. Bitty could see right away he wasn’t the partying type. While Bitty and his friends downed shots and sang at the top of their lungs and danced without a care in the world, Jack simply sat at a booth nursing a single beer and watching them have a good time. When questioned he just said he was perfectly happy as he was, and Shitty (Lardo’s boyfriend) would confirm it. Bitty mostly forgot all about him and continued partying. That was, until he felt Jack’s eyes on him. No one knew how he did it. Hell, even Bitty himself didn’t know how he did it. But one moment he was playfully beckoning Zimmermann from the dance floor, and the next Jack was joining him. He looked just as surprised to find himself there as anyone else, but Bitty wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. With Shitty, Ransom and Holster all hollering excitedly behind them, Bitty tugged Jack towards him. It turned out that Jack Zimmermann wasn’t a bad dancer. He was a little shy and awkward at first, swaying stiffly beside him. Bitty would later blame it on the alcohol, but at the time he just simply didn’t think and grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled. Jack’s professional athlete build wasn’t fazed by the gesture, but something in him was, and it was enough to encourage him to move. A couple of songs in, and Jack was matching Bitty’s peppy rhythm. Bitty couldn’t put his finger on it, especially with his brain fogged with a haze of Jägermeister and Red Bull, but there was something between them that neither of them expected. It was almost an electricity, thrumming with an energy that made the hair on Bitty’s forearms stand on end. It started at their joined hands and vibrated through them until it resonated in their chests. He’d barely said more than two sentences to Jack Zimmermann all night, but suddenly Bitty wanted to kiss him. He could tell the exact moment Jack became aware of the connection. The easy smile on his face quickly dropped and was replaced with an uneasy confusion. There was a muttered excuse – Bitty couldn’t hear it over the pounding music – and then Jack turned and hurried out of the bar, fighting his way through the crowd. Bitty watched him go, then shrugged carelessly and turned around to dance with his friends again. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning, slightly hungover but content, did he wonder if the universe had tried to give him something and he let it pass him by. 5th May 2018 Bitty had explicitly said no parties. Every birthday for the last four years his friends had threw a raging kegster to celebrate. For his first birthday out of college, all Bitty wanted was to call his parents, bake some nice food and share it with his friends over a glass of good wine and the Great British Bake-Off reruns (the better ones, before Mary, Mel and Sue had quit the show obviously). Ransom, Holster and Shitty had taken a little more persuading, but had soon agreed after Bitty had promised his signature peach cobbler and black forest brownies. His phone call to his parents lasted nearly an hour. His relationship with them had been a little strained since coming out, but it was slowly getting better, and he hung up with a big smile on his face. Lardo had still been in bed at ten that morning, so he went to the store to fetch baking ingredients on his own. It was cliché, but it was a perfect spring day, like it was the movie of his life. Working as a junior social media and marketing assistant had its perks, like weekends off. Today was a Saturday, so he wandered down to the fresh foods market for his ingredients. The peaches weren’t quite as sweet as the ones back home, but the ones here were a close second. He left an hour later with his tote bag full to the brim with ripened fruit and fresh spices and fingers sticky with pear juice. He stopped by his favourite deli next, the one with the premium butter and organic flour. His budget never usually stretched past Walmart, but he had birthday money burning a hole in his pocket. It was late afternoon by the time he got home. The kitchen smelled strongly of ground coffee, and he found Lardo perching on a chair and trying to hang purple streamers from the lampshade. She had put on her favourite sweatshirt for the occasion, the one with a rubber duck wearing sunglasses, and that alone made Bitty’s chest swell with happiness. They finished putting up the streamers between them and had lunch, squabbling over whose turn it was to use the one decent plate they had. It was Lardo’s, who overruled Bitty’s birthday argument with a smirk and a flick to his forehead. An hour later he was elbow deep in pastry when the buzzer rang. It was Ransom and Holster, bearing wine and beer and takeout menus, though they all knew they’d be too full of pie to eat the Chinese food they’d still order. The wine was shared out and they were put to work, greasing tins and chopping fruit. Shitty appeared not long after, and gave Bitty a slurpy, whiskery kiss on his cheek before handing over more wine. He wore a suspicious grin for a whole hour and sang loudly and out of tune to the radio as he peeled peaches. When the buzzer went a third time, everyone looked around at each other in confusion, except Shitty, who just grinned even wider. Bitty rolled his eyes and wiped his hands on a towel, wondering who on earth Shitty had invited. Maybe a stripper. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when he found a shy looking Jack Zimmermann in the hallway. He was pleasantly surprised though, especially when Jack sheepishly held out a small bunch of flowers and wished him happy birthday. He’d met Jack a handful of times since New Year’s Eve. He’d learned that Jack wasn’t quite as stoic and robotic in real life as his television interviews would have you believe. He was quiet and reserved, but also thoughtful and could hold his own in an intelligent discussion. His accent was just as endearing though, and Bitty found his awkward shyness adorable. Bitty never denied the attraction to himself, but it was never one he would act on either. Parties and clubs might not have been his thing, but it turned out that quiet gatherings with people he knew were more to Jack’s taste. He threw himself into the baking, listening to Bitty’s instructions with keen ears and following them with enthusiasm. After a glass of wine Bitty would even call him charming, quick to tease or crack a joke. If Bitty didn’t know any better, he’d say Jack was flirting with him when he flicked flour in his face or purposely nudged his pie out of the way when he tried to take a bite. But Bitty did know better. Guys like Jack were never Not Straight. And even if they were, Bitty was never their type. It was probably the best birthday he’d ever had, anyway. By the end of the night, his and Lardo’s apartment was a complete mess. The streamers had fallen, there were plates and takeout cartons all over the living room and the kitchen was filled with dirty pans and covered in a fine layer of flour dust. They’d eaten and drank until they were fit to burst, argued over which Bake-Off contestant would win in a mud fight, and Jack had offended them all by declaring he didn’t find Mary Berry all that great. Come midnight, Ransom and Holster had wandered back to their own apartment and Lardo had dragged a wasted Shitty back to her room. Bitty told Jack he didn’t need to stay and help tidy, but Jack insisted anyway. It was only when they were both alone did Bitty feel it again. That strange electricity that drew Bitty towards Jack like a moth to the flame. He couldn’t blame the alcohol this time, not after only two glasses of wine. Jack either wasn’t aware of it, or was ignoring it, focusing hard on wiping flour from the counter tops. Bitty tried to do the same, humming along to the quiet tune playing on the radio as he filled a trashbag full of rubbish. They worked without a word, moving around almost in tandem, like they had done it a million times before. Bitty didn’t believe in fate, or soul mates, or past lives. At least, he didn’t until their rhythm was suddenly broken and they bumped into one another. Jack had flour on his nose and a dirty cloth in his hand. Bitty had a smudge of cherry sauce on his mouth and was holding a stack of empty plates. They both laughed and then went still. It felt like they were both waiting for something as they looked at each other, taking in lashes and eyes and noses and freckles and dimples and mouths. Waiting for what though, they didn’t know. Jack’s phone pinged. It was loud enough to break the reverie and they both pulled free from the spell. Jack could never leave a text unanswered, and for the briefest of seconds Bitty wished that he would. Ignoring a text would make him not-Jack though, so he couldn’t be too disappointed when Jack took a step back and pulled his phone from his back pocket. Bitty cleared his throat and continued his task like nothing had happened. Jack was still staring at his phone screen a couple of minutes later. His brows were slightly furrowed, but Bitty couldn’t read the expression on his face. He questioned him gently, and Jack almost jumped, like he’d forgotten where he was. He managed an apologetic smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He didn’t explain himself or the text message, and simply announced that he had to leave. With a last ‘happy birthday’ he showed himself to the door and left. Bitty felt like he had just missed a train that he was supposed to take. 31st December 2018 They didn’t go to a bar that year. Ransom and Holster threw a party in their apartment, though it was thankfully not as outrageous as the kegsters they used to host in college. Their work friends were accountants and administrators and fellow consultants so Bitty wasn’t expecting it to get too wild. He’d had a pleasant, sleepy Christmas with plenty of good food and catching up with family, so didn’t mind that this new year was different to the last. Lardo brought Shitty along, who naturally dragged Jack with him. Bitty was over the moon to hear this, hoping that maybe fate would give them both a helping hand this year. However, it appeared that fate had other plans in store. Jack appeared at the party as promised, but Bitty hadn’t expected to see a young, smiley blonde man attached to his hip. Jack introduced him as his boyfriend, and Bitty felt like the floor had abruptly disappeared from beneath him. It was a lot to process all at once. He’d started to have suspicions that Jack was Not Straight as Bitty had originally thought, and to have that confirmed was a little overwhelming. Then to learn that he was also suddenly spoken for left Bitty with a bitter taste in his mouth. He and Jack had grown close over the last few months, and he thought that they shared everything over a glass of wine and a slice of pie. It turned out that was wrong though, and Bitty wasn’t sure what he felt more betrayed about. Still, he plastered on a smile and congratulated them as if it wasn’t a knife through his heart. Jack’s partner was funny and charming and handsome and everyone liked him. Bitty wanted to hate him, but he couldn’t bring himself to. The man had asked for his macaron recipe and talked about his cat for a full twenty minutes for god’s sake. When Bitty had first walked in, he’d eyed the mistletoe hanging over each door with hopeful eyes, but now he just glared at it acrimoniously. It was an ugly way to feel, but Bitty couldn’t help but think the universe was laughing in his face. The worst thing was, Jack looked happy. Bitty was pleased for him, but it was tainted, and he hated that it was marred that way. He spied Jack’s hand casually sitting on the man’s waist or spotted a chaste peck on the cheek between them and wanted to down another shot. He didn’t want to spend the night torturing himself, but he didn’t want to succumb to the jealousy either. He left at eleven, feigning a headache and smiling through the well wishes. He would spend tonight pitying himself, and then starting tomorrow he would get over Jack Zimmermann. August 3rd 2019 Getting over Jack Zimmermann was damned hard. But Greg helped. Bitty had met him at one of Shitty’s law school mixers. He was an ex-college rugby player, dragged along to the event by his friend. Tall, broad, half Greek with a mop of dark, curly hair and an accent that made Bitty’s knees weak. He hadn’t dated seriously since college, and it was hard work. Between working their full-time jobs, Greg’s beer league rugby and Bitty’s figure skating, they barely had enough time to squeeze in dates and time together, but Bitty enjoyed it all the same. Greg wasn’t Jack. They didn’t share the same sense of humour, and Greg’s taste in music and television wasn’t to Bitty’s tastes, and Greg was bossier and more assertive than Jack ever was. But he was also kind and caring and Bitty had a nice time with him. Even if he wasn’t Jack. But that was okay, because nobody could be Jack but Jack. And Bitty had to be fine about it. He could do that. They hadn’t had time to hang out much lately, but tonight was Jack’s birthday, and Shitty was throwing a get together in his honour. Bitty hadn’t originally wanted to bring Greg along, though he wasn’t sure why. Shitty had invited him too though, and Greg seemed to be looking forward to it. Bitty couldn’t exactly tell him no. He had no idea what to get Jack for his birthday. What do you get the man who has everything? And if he didn’t have it, he had more than enough money to buy it anyway. This year, Jack had bought Bitty an entire collection of cookbooks from his favourite baker. Bitty knew it cost more than a whole month’s worth of his wages, though to Jack it was probably nothing. How could Bitty match something like that? He knew Jack wasn’t expecting him to, but it still made him feel inadequate. Whatever it was, it had to be something special. It was almost an apology. I’m sorry we haven’t hung out much and you’ve taken a backseat to my actual Greek god boyfriend. Bitty didn’t think he should feel too guilty though. As far as Bitty knew, Jack was still with his own boyfriend. It was never talked about in the media for obvious reasons, but still, Bitty would know if they’d broken up. No, this get together would be good for the both of them. They could exist in the same room without that stupid electric connection between them. And even if it did appear, their boyfriends would keep it at bay. Right? Wrong. It wasn’t an entire collection of cookbooks, but Bitty turned up on Jack’s swanky Providence doorstep with Jack’s favourite pie and a Barnes and Noble gift card. A feeble attempt, but he’d genuinely been stumped. He knew Jack liked history books, but Bitty was frightened of getting the wrong one. He explained this to Jack in a nervous ramble as he handed them over, but Jack laughed and thanked him sincerely anyway. It was only after Bitty stepped over the threshold did Jack notice who had been standing beside him. Bitty introduced Greg hurriedly, hoping his edgy fluster wasn’t completely obvious to either of them. Jack was polite and smiley and shook Greg’s hand, but something about it seemed fake. Bitty tried to ignore it, heading straight to the wine. His friends were already around, and he greeted them with false enthusiasm. Once he had his glass in hand and looked around the apartment he noticed Jack’s boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. The pictures of them both were gone, as were the cat hairs and various caps and hoodies they used to share. Jack and his boyfriend had broken up. Bitty could’ve kicked himself. He had been so wrapped up in getting over Jack he’d forgotten to be a friend in the meantime. How long had it been since they had last hung out? Or had a lengthy phone call? The only thing Bitty had managed lately was a few quick texts and picture messages every now and again, all of which Jack had promptly replied to. He felt like an idiot. He had to apologise, but he wasn’t sure that this was the right moment. Jack looked like he was enjoying himself. A few glasses of wine later, Bitty managed to push his guilt aside for the time being. He’d always loved Jack’s kitchen, and couldn’t resist baking in his top of the range oven, no matter the occasion. He was pulling out a tray of freshly baked mini tarts when he realised he was being watched. People had popped in and out the whole time he was baking, to fill up drinks or fetch snacks, but this time the body lingered. Bitty turned to tell them they’d have to wait a bit longer for the tarts to cool, but the words disappeared off his tongue when he noticed it was Jack. Jack stood in the doorway, a half-drunk bottle of low alcohol beer in his hand. He had a determined look in his eyes that made Bitty go still, though his heart started to hammer in his chest. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Jack to make the first move. The energy was between them again, throbbing loud and unspoken. The metal tray shook in Bitty’s hands. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth again, frowned, thought about it. Jack had never been one to say a lot, but each word was usually carefully thought out and selected. Bitty waited, expecting something insightful and meaningful. Jack opened his mouth, closed it, frowned again and thought some more. Greg made them both jump. He was never quiet or graceful and strode in to the kitchen with a booming voice. He was half drunk, grinning at them and calling back to the others as he filled his glass, stole a mini tart and gave Bitty a swift peck on the cheek. He left almost as quickly as he appeared, but the moment was ruined. Jack gave him a stiff nod and retreated to the living room having clearly lost his nerve. Bitty slammed the hot tray down onto the marble counter, feeling like he’d missed the train again. 31st December 2019 Tonight, Bitty was going to get drunk. He knew it was silly and immature, but these last few months had been stressful and depressing. He felt like he deserved to let loose and get messy and see off the year in style. A lot of things had happened this winter, including a promotion, Shitty and Lardo’s engagement, and his and Greg’s breakup. He hadn’t been angry or surprised, just disappointed. Greg wasn’t Jack, after all. Jack wouldn’t be attending the party. He’d had a string of games and a long roadie over the last couple of days and wouldn’t be making it back to Providence until past eleven pm. Bitty knew that Jack would head straight to bed rather than get changed and drag himself to a loud and crowded bar after all of his travelling, and Bitty couldn’t blame him. The season had started off rough, and Jack hadn’t much time for anything in between practicing, playing, resting and all of his extra-curricular events. Bitty knew this, but couldn’t help feeling frustrated. He’d tried to reach out, especially after his breakup, but Jack felt distant now and Bitty didn’t know how to bridge the gap. He didn’t have the energy anymore. He decided that if Jack was interested in preserving their friendship, it was his turn to make the effort. Bitty wasn’t holding his breath. It was a fun party. It was the same LGBT+ friendly bar they went to two years ago, and Bitty felt an affinity for it. It almost felt like déjà vu, and if Bitty tried hard enough, he could almost imagine Jack sitting in his corner and nursing his beer. He wouldn’t though, he was done with torturing himself over Jack Zimmermann. He threw himself into the moment instead, filing to memory the song that was playing, the way he felt shimmying to the music, the sight of Lardo’s glittery red lipstick, the smell of Holster’s cheap cologne, the taste of Jägermeister on his tongue. His phone buzzed at some point, but he ignored it. It buzzed a couple more times and he ignored it again, wanting to switch off from everything that wasn’t this party and this drink in his hand. Midnight was drawing closer, and he was sober enough to be aware of the heavy feeling in his chest. He watched Shitty and Lardo and Ransom and Holster dancing together and all of the other people surrounding him, and he never felt more alone. He suddenly started to wish he was anywhere but there. He wanted to be wherever Jack was. But Jack wasn’t here. Instead there were dozens of good looking, charming boys dancing around him. A few had tried to catch his eye, and he knew he would have no problem finding someone to dance with. And if they so happened to share a kiss when the clock struck twelve, then where was the crime in that? Just a kiss, on New Year’s Eve, between two consenting adults. No big deal. The man whose arms he fell into just happened to be tall, and dark, and blue eyed. Maybe he had a type. He didn’t look much like Jack, but if he thought hard he could just feel Jack’s hands on his hips. He looked hard at the boy’s face, trying to imagine Jack in the high cheekbones and full lips. He shook his head, wafting away the daze. That was stupid, he couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He looked away, but he was starting to see Jack everywhere. A man by the bar had the same jacket. Another guy on the dance floor had the same awkward dance steps. A boy waiting by the toilets had a similar smile. His eyes drifted toward the door and even saw Jack standing there, a single flower in his hands and watching him. But it wasn’t real. None of these men were Jack. Bitty turned back to the one in his arms and waited for midnight. 31st December 2019 Jack was done waiting. He was tired of letting everything else dictate his life for him. Ever since he was born he felt like the universe had already decided what was going to happen to him. The Q, the overdose, rebuilding his career from the ground up. He couldn’t choose his team. There was only one in the AHL who wanted to set him on after the scandal. He was forever grateful, but it wasn’t something he could choose. He’d worked damn hard to get where he was today. An NHL team, a captaincy and two Stanley Cups under his belt. The last time he made a decision for himself he ended up nearly killing himself. Even now, he was worried that choosing something for himself could ruin everything. So, he waited. He let people walk in and out of his life as they saw fit. He allowed situations to happen to him, never fighting them or questioning them. It was just the universe deciding for him and he was in no position to try and take control. Until now. Jack stood in the doorway of the bar, watching Bitty dancing with another man. He turned the flower around in his hands. It was the same kind he’d bought for Bitty on his birthday a year and a half ago. It was a little cheesy maybe, but he had known Bitty would like it. He’d texted, letting him know he was on his way, but Bitty had never seen the messages. Bitty clearly had different things on his mind. And the old Jack would have turned away, deciding it was just what fate had decided for them, just like always. But not this Jack. This Jack was tired and in love. He strode forward, pushing his way past the various bodies towards the dance floor. Bitty’s eyes had drifted over him like he hadn’t realised Jack was really there. Jack couldn’t really blame him. He hadn’t been there, not recently. He’d been caught up in the start of the season, dealing with his own break up, torn between wanting to give Bitty space or comfort him after his. It had been a hard few months for both of them. Jack figured it was time to make it better. He grabbed Bitty’s arm and pulled him around, ignoring the guy he was dancing with as he protested. Bitty opened his mouth to tell him off, but they were both momentarily stunned as they stared at each other. Bitty was shocked to see him, but Jack was stunned yet again by just how beautiful this boy was. And he was going to have him. He was going to take matters into his own hands. He’d rehearsed a speech in the car, but the words left his brain. He suddenly couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t know how to explain what he was thinking or feeling and awkwardly fumbled. Bitty watched and waited with a familiar patience. Bitty never rushed him. Bitty always knew that each word needed time and thought. But still, the words wouldn’t come. Instead, Jack dumbly held out the flower and hoped that would be enough. It was. As the people around them started to chant a countdown, Bitty and Jack stepped forward. No more running away. No more making excuses. No more letting opportunities pass them by. Bitty jumped on the train. Jack took control. They couldn’t help but laugh, gazing at each other like they were the only two people in the world. The clock struck twelve. “Happy New Year, Bits.” “Happy New Year, Jack.” They kissed. The End Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :) thank you for the notes and the kudos and comments this year - I appreciate every single one of them. For those of you interested - Jack’s mysterious partner was intended to be Kent, but I deliberately left it ambiguous so choose your own!

This was posted for the Swawesome Santa 2018 event and gifted to Loveyoutoobits.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #checkplease #zimbits #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #zimbits fanfiction #zimbits au #my fic #my writing #my work #new years eve au #five things plus one #5 + 1

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bookenders · 5 years

Note

🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊 !! (from penzag)

FIVE!?!?

Ooooohkay then, @penzag! Five it is!

Grab some snacks, folks, because this is gonna be a long one.

[Wanna hear more about my OCs?]

Here’s Mel, Fred, Mary, Jill, and Treena: [Tag list and WIP info at the end!]

MEL

I could gush about Mel for forever, but I can’t, because spoilers.

Incredibly intelligent, criminally clever, and wonderfully weird, Mel tries not to let anyone tell her who she is.

Her family is very distant, but that’s pretty much the norm for families where she’s from. It taught her to be independent and unafraid of being on her own (even if it’s what she fears most of all).

She’s one of those people whose professional reputation differs wildly from her personality. Where she comes from, she’s known for being shrewd, efficient, careful, exact, inventive, and put together, like the most renowned surgeons in the country. In reality, she’s sweet, soft, bubbly, excitable, smiley, and caring - basically a big sweetheart.

Mel gets self-conscious about little things, like if she’s walking weird, or if she’s holding something incorrectly, or is something about her appearance slipped slightly and is drawing too much unwanted attention.

She absolutely loves her job. It lets her be as creative as she wants while still technically being an academic research position. If she could wear sandals and sundresses to her job, she totally would.

Bending the rules to the point where they almost break and manipulating technicalities is her favorite hobby. She tends to get into trouble because of her curiosity, though, not her penchant for acts of medium-rebellion.

Gross things are her absolute jam. Especially gross medical things. She got excited about a severed arm once because it was the most exciting thing to happen that week.

FRED

Oh, Fred. Hapless, but happy to be so. The terrible gardener.

Life has taught Fred to always look on the bright side. It’s makes it easier to see and lightens your life. He’s an unfailing optimist in all the best ways, and a few of the most annoying.

He wears matching pajamas. They were not gifts. He never forgets a birthday. He wears house slippers. He loves lasagna and casseroles. He loves dad jokes and really clever puns. He admires rule-breakers but would never consider doing so himself, oh no. One time he found a $20 on the ground when he was 10 and he went door to door asking everyone if it was theirs. He grew up in a tiny town and they all adored little Freddy.

He met his ex-wife at a puzzle competition. He was curious, she was competing.

As expected, Fred accidentally injures himself a lot. He’s Gemma’s most frequent customer, so frequent, in fact, that she has a special storage container labelled “FRED” that’s filled with ingredients and stock-piled potions, poultices, and salves so she always has them on-hand for his surprise visits.

His blog does decently well, too! It’s about medieval French and English living. He does all his research online and in Treena’s personal library. They’re study buddies. (I have a feeling he and Mel will get along in this respect.)

A while ago, right after Fred moved to Linsay, he started a backyard garden. Now, he’s not a very good gardener, but he tries, and that’s what counts. It’s almost like his plants can tell, because some of them are healthier and happier than some of the ones in Gemma’s greenhouse. He built all the raised beds himself and spends a lot of time learning how to take care of his vegetables.

MARY

Mary had a hard life before she came to Linsay. Her husband was a terrible person, to put it lightly, and she escaped an awful situation all on her own and set out to find a better home. She’s her own hero.

She paints in her free time, and she has quite a lot of it. Mainly portraits, but the occasional landscape works its way in there if something catches her eye. And yes, she totally sells her paintings and crafts on Etsy. She’s besties with the post office workers.

Growing up, Mary was the one Gemma could go to for anything and not get any judgment. Jill might make some comments, Harry would guilt her a bit, and Treena would try to analyze the problem. But Mary let her talk and get all of her confusion out and then walked her through a solution without making her feel bad for wondering. This was very important for little Gem, since her mom left before she turned 15.

Mary Knows. It’s sort of the town motto. You don’t know who said that thing about the song you like? Mary knows. Who’s dating who? Mary knows. What’s the new item Harry’s planning on adding to the menu? Mary knows.

Her hugs are the best in town. She’s the warmest of all my characters. She’s sort of an amalgamation of four people I know.

Jill

I’ve had the hardest time writing for Jill, and not just because she’s the polar opposite of my own personality. She’s kinda hard to nail down. She likes it that way. Ugh, Jill, please make it easier on me.

Jill loves grape popsicles. She owns a patent, which is how she earns her money, but no one knows what it is and she won’t tell anyone. She likes being mysterious. If you ask her the right questions, though, she’s an open book. She doesn’t like flutes.

Her late wife’s name is Nadiya. She called her Diva.

She helps Gemma and Treena keep their old books from falling apart.

TREENA

Man, I love Treena! Her backstory is so cool! And it makes the story world so interesting!

Of all the Ladies, she might be my favorite, other than Harry. Treena worked hard to get into college, worked harder to get into her master’s program, and worked even harder to earn her PhD, because some things happened during her PhD years that made everything in her life a whole lot harder.

Treena knows people in high places. Unfortunately, she can’t contact those people because reasons.

She’s the biggest folklore nerd you’ll ever meet. That was her degree, actually. She specialized in Fae lore. Which is super cool. Even though she’s super proud of her work, she doesn’t talk about it a whole lot. At all, really. Barely anyone knows that she is the Treena Rivers of folk lore academia fame. She did help Gemma get some of her magic university contacts, though.

She and Gemma bring their books to Jill’s place and they all hang out together while Jill works on the books.

Treena is the quiet kind of interloper. She waits and watches until the time is right to spring her trap. She is an amazing wingwoman. If someone needs help responding to a text, she’s the go-to. When she gets mischievous, she plays her tricks with a warm smile.

Treena is very convincing. Like, it’s almost scary. She says she learned from the best, and everyone is nervous that there’s someone out there who’s better than Treena at talking to people. She is very chill, but not to be messed with unless you know her.

Aaaaand that’s it for this ask! Phew.

WIP Intro Post | H2H WIP Tag | Character Page | WIP Page

Character Tags: Gemma | Mel | The Ladies | Fred Coriander | Officer Oz

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

Tag List: @katekyo-bitch-reborn, @cawolters, @wasting-ink-not-youth, @quilloftheclouds, @snickertoodles, @mvcreates, @writeness, @carmenwrites

#penzag #ender answers #my OCs #OCs #heart to heart #OC asks #Mel #Fred #the ladies: Mary #the ladies: Treena #the ladies: Jill #tungle ate the first draft of this post and I lost *everything*#I'm so salty #but I remembered what I wrote thank goodness

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scarecrowandmrking · 6 years

Text

All That Is And Will Never Be (Mark Pellegrino/OC)

I took another sip of my wine and glared in ever increasing fury at the computer screen. It was two in the morning and even though I knew I had to get up early to make it out to the set on time, I just couldn’t end the argument and let HIM win. I could just imagine his wolfish smile off somewhere in LA as he realized that, for once in our twitter war of the past two years that he had finally shut me up on something. No way would I give him that kind of satisfaction.

If you actually thought with reason and not the err of rampant emotionalism, you would see what I’m talking about, he typed.

If you actually thought with care and not that stuffy headed Rand nonsense, you would see what I’m talking about, I wrote back.

Tell me where Rand went wrong.

Tell me where she didn’t?

Did you read any of the books we discussed?

Did you read any of mine?

There was a long pause before he wrote back, I really don’t consider Art Of Being An Asshole a useful political tome.

WHY? I asked him. You read Rand.

I closed the laptop with a grin. I could just see him sitting there stewing over that one for a while. Good. I had met the actor Mark Pellegrino many years ago when he was playing Jedikiah Price in The Tomorrow People and I was on a sister show on the CW. I had thought him rather imposing and remote. He had given me one of those tiny, barely there smiles I had seen in so many photos of him here and there. I had found his height and build both equally imposing and erotic, brushing up against him in an elevator going up to the place where the photo ops were being taken. He hadn’t said a word, but that quirky smile had stayed with me for a while. And I had to admit that later that night I did indulge in some vigorous hand under the covers fun at his imaginary expense.

But these days the infatuation had turned to fury as Mark and I had met each other again on social media. It had all started off as an angry exchange on a forum about social programs and had spiraled into an ongoing series of attacks on one another’s threads. I never knew when he might show up and vice versa. Though we had taken to fighting on DM after it became apparent that people had started to romanticize our beefs, even going so far as to post sexual fics of us online. Mark found them slightly annoying. I enjoyed reading a few before bed sometimes. Having met the man in person, I could at least attest to the fact that he was quite a sexy creature, though taller and more roguish and infuriating than he needed to be.

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

I slammed the script down on Mel’s desk.

“NO. NO. NO.”

Mel Aberman, producer of The Runaways, the show where I starred as a morally ambiguous leader of a government organization out to erase the living subjects of a failed experiment, just continued to stare at me with an annoyed but resigned look on his face. We had joked with one another about this very subject on more than one occasion. But I never thought in a million years that he would actually do it.

“Look, you should see how popular this guy is,” Mel tells me while typing away on his keyboard. He pointed to some things on Twitter I could have cared less about at that very moment. “You should see the viewership when he did the Rubin Report. People love this guy. Besides, with our ratings lately….”

My face immediately grew hot and red. There it was. Should have known that he would bring up the downturn in numbers for our show as of late to throw in my face.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to fall in love with this guy and have his babies or anything. Just play nice. You know, I worked with him a little on Number 23. Not a bad guy, once you get to know him.”

I rolled my eyes as I turned to stomp from the room, making sure to slam the door behind me for good measure. There was a loud thump as I collided with a dark pea coat, the soft fabric brushing against my cheek. My head shot up and I was face to face with Mark Pellegrino, my old nemesis and the person I had spent many a night hollering at all alone in my bedroom with my laptop in my lap. He wasn’t at all what I had pictured, wearing a black beanie and a pair of clear glasses. But there was no mistaking those twinkling, devilish eyes of his. Like he was enjoying his own private joke that you would never be a part of.

“Oh,” he said, his smile widening. But I noticed, as I had before, that his smiles were never the wide, open kind as much as a tiny curve of his lips that one could never feel quite sure about the intentions of. “We meet at last.”

“Don’t get too use to it,” I told him. “I’ll probably kill you by episode three.”

He tilted his head, considering me for a moment. “Me or my character?”

I shouldered my way past his as best I could considering moving him is a lot like trying to dislodge a small tree. “Both.”

When I made it to my car out in the lot I discovered that someone had placed a copy of The Art Of Being An Asshole on my hood.

“Asshole,” I hissed, my mind already working out just what level of revenge Mel would let me get away with on set.

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

The first couple of scenes I did with Mark made it quite obvious to everyone on set, and the viewing public, that at least our apparent rampant dislike for each other equaled a lot of tension on screen. Which translated into a spike in the ratings. I disliked him, strongly, and when I said certain likes about what a terrible egomaniac I thought he was, it was quite genuine. And when he told me that I was a snobby stick in the mud that needed to lighten up and trust somebody, he was pretty damn convincing about it. But there were also times when our characters did things like grab an arm or brush up against one another that left me pretty shaken up. And it angered me to feel anything for someone that was nothing but a gigantic pain in my ass most of the time these days.

And so we worked ourselves through most of the season avoiding each other as much as possible for two actors who were always rubbing on one another on screen. But at night we would return to our favorite hobby of tormenting the hell out of one another. The barbs were more personal now, the privacy of DM making us bolder about going at it than if we were being watched by the fans. I wasn’t sure at the end of it all if I wanted to jerk myself off or cry after spending most of the day and night around the guy. Sometimes I did both.

The episode I was dreading the most was episode twelves, All That Is And Will Never Be, where Mark and I have our first kiss after a fight in my character’s office. I stood off to the side of the office set as various crew worked their way around getting things ready. Today would be the kissing scene. Tomorrow the love scene. I had only done two on this show before, both with an actor I had known fairly well. It had been strange and not at all sexy to be doing something so intimate with so many people watching you. I glanced over to where Mark sat on the other side of the room, legs crossed with three books in his lap. Didn’t appear to be too worried about the whole thing from what I could tell.

When the time came I made my way around the big desk and sat down to look at my character’s computer, giving the impression that I was deep in a series of reports.

Mark’s character, Agent Charles Rickman, comes in a minute later and slams his palms down upon the desk with a sound so deafening I nearly topple out of my chair. Whoa! Not in the script. The fear and anxiety I feel when I glance up at his enraged face is pretty damn real.

“I saw the tapes!” Charles/Mark hollers, referring to my character being a double agent and letting the teen mutants escape the facility. “I know what you did. And I’m going to make damn sure you tell me everything you know.”

He runs around the desk and grabs me by the arms, pulling me towards the door. His grip is tight on my arm and I struggle for a few seconds before going into agent mode and punching him hard in the face. I tried not to hurt him, this was acting after all, but I may have kicked him in the leg...Just a little. What followed was a series of kicks and punches, all lightening fast and what we had been practicing for the past week, Mark was a boxer in real life so it can be kind of intimidating when his fist gets near your face. But I always knew he would pull back at the last second. No worries there.

But I was worried about the kiss, though. Halfway through a punch Mark pulls me in and presses his lips firmly to mine. I wasn’t expecting his lips to be so soft or his tongue to make its way into my mouth. It was a hungry open mouthed kiss and I felt a searing heat in the pit of my stomach. So this is what it felt like to be pressed up against him, his tongue playing with mine and his hand tangled in my hair. I moaned, wrapping one leg around him before I knew what I was doing. He swept one arm across the table and everything went to the floor. And then he was on top of me, both my legs holding him against me like a vice. I wanted him to rub against me until I came. I wanted…..

“CUT!” I heard someone yell somewhere off in the background. Mark was off of me in a second, turning around and walking off somewhere in the crowd. I just layed there, trying to get my breath and figure out what the hell had just happened. My pussy was dripping wet and cried out for a vigorous fucking. And I realized that what I wanted was for Mark to give me one. I shook my head, cursing myself for letting things get this far. I just needed more self control. He was an actor. This was a role for him. A job. And I was the chick he had been paired up with that he couldn’t stand. Nothing more.

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

Mark was absent that night on Twitter and I wondered if maybe our make out session had gotten to him a little more than I thought it had. But when I got to the set the next day he was the same old Mark as usual, smiling that secretive half smile at the crew and returning to his studies of politics or whatever it was he was reading these days. He noticed me looking his way and gave me a little wave. I gave him the finger back.

The next scene takes place in my character’s apartment after they leave the office building. It just starts out with us making out right as we get through the door and it moves along into the bedroom. No real nudity, wasn’t that kind of show. But I would take my top off and only Mark and the set would know I was wearing skin colored pasties to cover my nipples. Sorry, people. Like I said, sex scenes are not as romantic as you think they are.

When the scene started I was once again thrown into a hot kiss with Mark, only this time things seemed different from before. His body moved against mine in a rougher, more desperate kind of way. His mouth started to nip at mine, at one point sucking on my lower lip in a way that made me moan against him and my pussy wetter than it already was. He lifted me up by my hips and carried me into the room, heading right for the bedroom without stopping on the couch as the script had said. Nobody stopped us though, guess the kissing and clawing looked too good to get in the middle of.

Mark flung me down on the bed, pulling away for a second to loosen his tie and throw it off, something that my lust fueled mind found terribly sexy at that moment. He got down on the bed beside me, as the script had directed and I quickly moved to straddle him, tearing off my blouse in the process. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but his hands moved up and down my side with a tenderness I hadn’t been expecting after the frenzied love making just moments before. I leaned my face down to kiss him, but he moved my head to the side to place open mouthed kisses along my neck, tongue darting out to skillfully lap at the most sensitive parts of skin. I moaned, grinding my pussy against him. Hard.

“You need this. You’ve always needed this. Only me. Only me,” he whispered in my ear.

I shuddered. Not in the script. I could see the dude liked to ad lib. I pushed it all out of my mind as I leaned back and rocked against him, the panties I was wearing and the pants he was wearing not doing much to keep cock and pussy from contact. He had somehow adjusted himself to where his cock was laying against his stomach and I rubbed the head of his dick between my thinly veiled labia. It was all like something two teens would do. And it felt fucking fantastic.

I leaned my head back as I felt myself coming upon his cock. I didn’t care about the camera on my face, capturing an O face that was actually real. For a second I also forgot about Mark, lost in that magical place a good damn orgasm can take you too. I collapsed onto Mark and he kisses me several times on the forehead. I didn’t remember till later that at that point the director had already yelled cut so Mark had not done it because it was part of the scene.

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

The first thing I did when I got out of there was run back to my trailer and fling myself down on my bed. I just needed to be alone for a while. I had had an actual fucking orgasm. On set. On top of another actor and I felt a lot of mixed up shit about it. Did he know that I had come? What would that be like seeing the dude on set later? Damn. Just. Damn. I didn’t want to think about all that right now. I wanted to think about my pussy, which was still wet and begging for more attention. With a sigh, I started to rub myself through my panties. I didn’t want to reach inside just yet. There needed to be a build up where I wanted to imagine it was Mark’s cock against me through the fabric. His hard, swollen cock I wanted to ride until he filled my pussy full of come.

A knock at the trailer door pulled me away from my fantasies with a start and I lay there cursing for a moment before getting to my feet to answer it. I expected to find my assistant or someone from the crew telling me that the director wanted me to come back to discuss the scene we had shot. I was shocked to see Mark standing there, his expression unreadable. I glanced over his shoulder but didn’t see anyone looking our way.

“May I come in.” he asked,

I stepped back, trying to think of why he would feel the need to talk to me in private. We didn’t really have that kind of thing going. Just social media squabbling and sneaking around each other on set.

Mark wrapped his arms around me and pushed me back until my back was up against the trailer’s refrigerator. There was a smile on his face that i hadn’t seen him use before. I imagined it was his real smile, a wide and gentle kind of thing that lit up his whole face and made me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. He leaned down, kissing me on the nose.

“Are you okay after all that,” he asked me.

“Are you checking up on me,” I shot back, still thrown a little off balance that he was here, holding me as if we had been lovers for a long time. I still hadn’t got use to the feeling of his body pressed against mine yet. And, before I could stop myself, I became aware that i was rubbing myself against him in a fair imitation of what we had done before.

“Someone has to. When was the last time you trusted anybody? Really trusted somebody.”

“Not any of your business,” I told him, but my arms were still wrapped around him. I didn’t want him to leave. Nothing made much sense to me just then, but I did see that part clearly.

“I want to be that person. You just have to let me in.”

Mark kissed me again. But this time there was a slow seduction to his movements and every once in a while he would stop and stare into my eyes as if asking if what he was doing was alright with me. I felt emboldened by his gentleness, letting my hands run through his hair and over his body beneath his white button up shirt. I pushed against his chest and moved us both towards the bedroom in back, I wanted to get him in bed as fast as I could. And I made sure we ditched our clothes along the way, too.

“You're so beautiful,” Mark tells me, kissing his way along my naked skin. I fall back upon the bed and he spreads my legs, leaning his tall frame down to lick and suck on my wet pussy. I cried out, arching my back and digging my nails into his soft blond hair. I moaned his name as he worked on my swollen clit with his clever tongue, bringing me to an intense peak under his mouth in a short period of time.

“I need you,” I told him, urging him to get on top of me. I wanted to feel him ride my pussy and make me feel as good as he had made me feel with his mouth.

Mark followed me up further on the bed, smiling when I held my legs open for him and moaned impatiently. He plunged his tongue into my mouth at the same time he thrust himself inside of me. My body went rigid for a minute as the feeling of being stretched out and filled enveloped me a sensation that was somewhere between pleasure and pain. Then it was replaced with sheer ecstasy as he began to move inside of me, rocking against me in steady but ever quickening thrusts. He kissed my neck, my face and chest, moaning my name like some sort of mantra. His fingers gently removed my nipple coverings so he could suck on each nipple in turn. I smiled, biting my lower lip as I felt my second orgasm coming from somewhere deep inside of me. I it had ever been this good for me before with a lover, I couldn’t remember it. This felt like something new to me. As if I was experiencing sex for the first time.

“Fuck, yeah,” I heard Mark moan over me, his eyes were partly closed and his head was back a little, lost in the feeling of his impending orgasm. Looking at how beautiful and unguarded he looked in that moment, the calm and confident man I was use to replaced by this animalistic being consumed by his own sensations, pushed me over the edge. I bit him hard on the shoulder as I lost myself in the same explosion of pleasure that was consuming him, The sensation of being filled with his warm come mingled with the sound of him breathing heavily against my neck. I kissed the place where I had bitten him, wrapping my legs tightly around him to hold him in as long as I could. He just seemed to keep filling me up, my hand stroking his back as he continued to empty himself inside of me.

“We’ll be needed back on set soon,” Mark tells me a few minutes later as we lay wrapped up together beneath the covers, his arm cradling my head.

“You know, I think I changed my mind about wanting you to be killed off quick,” I tell him, kissing him on the chest.

“Oh? And what made you change your mind?”

“Seems I finally found something your good at.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

I smiled at him mischievously. “Prove it.”

#mark pellegrino #mark pellegrino fan fiction #Pellegrino #markpellegrinosex #markpellegrinoporn #supernatural lucifer #lucifer

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gideonloser · 4 years

Text

What OC has the biggest family? How do they get along?

Actual legal family has to be the Seymour-Kellers. But found family, absolutely the Newsies. And they're like any family, they're messy, and they fight, and sometimes they want to seriously maim each other, but at the end of the day, they have each other's back.

What OC has/is a mentor?

Davey sort of considers Jack a mentor, but strictly job wise, since he learned from him how to do the job. A lot of the queens have to consider Mer a mentor, though Mer considers Layla to be her mentor. And Wendy considers Angelica her mentor. Clark is a teacher so he's got to have a shitton of kids who are looking up to him.

What OC has a huge group of friends?

Jella is the only one we've actually, like, canonically decided, but I feel like Ruby, Gigi, Mellory, Meredith, Farrah, Izzy, Fauna, and Sabrina are all people would would be social butterflies with a lot of people around them.

What OC has a small, close group of friends?

Dane has a few people that he knows he can trust, and he wouldn't trade them for anything.

What OC has, like, one friend?

Adam has Sophie.

What OC is the Mom Friend?

Ella and Naomi are both such #momfriends

What OC really needs the Mom Friend around?

Let's be real, Jack would long have since gotten himself into trouble he couldn't have gotten out of without Ella. And Mel probably would have frozen to death in the Alaskan wilderness, had Naomi not made sure she was always where she was supposed to be, when she was supposed to be there.

Which OCs are an old married couple (literally or figuratively)?

JELLA.

What is your favorite platonic relationship between your OCs?

Even if she is no longer with us, I gotta give it to Mads/Sadie.

What is your favorite familial relationship between your OCs?

Clarkara def. has to be up there, but also Broleyns for sure. And Pierre/Dane is always so interesting to think about.

What is your favorite romantic relationship between your OCs?

Oh, but I love all of them for different reasons! Top five gut reaction

Clane

Jella

Ryan/Phoebe

Mer/Layla

Zade

Which two OCs are the most different from each other?

My heart says Damian and Angelica but the dichotomy of Naomi and Lacey has to be a runner up.

Which OCs complement each other the best?

Damiangelica and Clane both work really well, I feel.

Which OCs get along the best with each other?

She never really existed, but it seems like Maddie/Dane really understood each other perfectly and just got along really, really well.

Which OCs get along the worst with each other?

Adam and Dane.

Which OCs don’t know each other, but would get along great if they did?

Dane/Damian. Add Mellory in there too. God, imagine a MG-style AU where it's those three ruling the school.

Which OCs don’t know each other, but would hate each other if they did?

Katherine and everyone Katherine doesn't know. Damian and 90% of people Damian doesn't know.

Which OCs would make the worst couple?

I think they themselves might get along okay but imagine the chaos for everyone else... of Meredith/Mellory.

What’s the strangest way two (or more) OCs have met?

Fareddy in the elevator, I guess. Or Kara and Celeste both dating the sane guy.

Which non-related OCs have known each other the longest?

Mads has known May literally his entire life.

Which OCs knew each other the shortest time before becoming close friends?

Naomel.

Which OCs spend the most time together?

Babes we're in the quarentimes, everyone is spending all their time together.

Which OCs have fought with each other the most?

Before Damiangelica settled their differences, they fought a lot. Like a lot a lot.

Do any OCs have friends they haven’t met in person?

Not that I can think of?

Do any OCs have imaginary friends?

Besides the voices in Adam's head, no.

Does OC have a hard or easy time making friends? (Ruby)

I said above she was likely someone who had a lot of friends, so easy time!

How did OC meet their best friend? (Naomi)

She was cast as her second cousin.

How did OC meet their worst enemy? (Dane)

He was cast as his second cover. (First? It always felt like Colton was first to go on if Mike was out.)

How did OC meet their significant other? If OC does not have a SO, do they want one? (Kelly)

They were cast as love interests.

How does OC get along with their parents? (Sam)

hahahahahahahahaha

Does OC have siblings? Do they get along if they do? Do they wish they had some if they don’t? (Mads)

Now he and Mer get along pretty well, but it was definitely touch and go for awhile there.

Does OC have or want kids? (Angelica)

Yes, just not that one.

Is OC/Would OC be a good parent? (Clark)

Yes. And hopefully one day he will be.

What is something unusual OC has bonded with someone over? (Sabrina)

Foster kidz!

What is the most important relationship in OC’s life? (Damian)

Cruella

How has OC been affected by their friendships? (Zoe)

The Stone family is Zoe’s home base. Like, she’s been able to give herself more room to fuck up because she knew that they would catch her if she fell.

How has OC been affected by their family relationships? (Teddy)

I would think the whole situation with Sam would have taught him the most devastating lesson at a far too young age: love is conditional.

How has OC been affected by their romantic relationship(s) or lack thereof? (Sophie)

Well, the whole being married at 15 into a mafia family did set quite the stage, and that's not even considering the drive by shooting on her wedding day that led to a dependence on pain killers which in turn turned to a heroin addiction.

Who does OC consider they have learned their most important life lesson from? (Kennedy)

As dark as it is, Kennedy learned from his father that he couldn't depend on anyone but himself, not to provide for him, not to care about him, not even not to break his bones.

Who motivates OC? (Aisling)

Her sister. Or rather her sister's memory. Leaving acting, becoming a doula, it was all for her legacy.

Who would OC do anything for? (Ella)

Any of the boys, really.

Who would OC do anything to not have to deal with? (Davey)

Romeo.

How does OC meet most people? (Celeste)

I think in terms of sheer volume, it would have to be the stage door, but when it comes to relationships of actual depth, that's got to be work.

How long does it take OC to open up to people? (Ryan)

I mean, when most of his relationships are filtered through Damian, I can't imagine he really ever does.

How much do OC’s friends know about their private life? (Layla)

Fuck, I don't even know anything about Layla's private life.

How does OC act differently after they know someone better? (Phoebe)

She actually smiles a little bit, makes jokes, you know she's there and it's not like she'll disappear if you turn your back for a second.

Who is OC’s favorite person? (Jade)

Zoe!

Who is OC’s least favorite person? (Farrah)

Farrah loves her father, in the way that children love their parents even when they're dicks, but the part of her that she can control hates him for what he's put May through.

Is there anyone OC used to be very close to, but no longer is? (Adam)

I mean, his wife is dead.

What aspects of OC have, consciously or unconsciously, come from someone else? (Kara)

I think a lot of Kara comes from being Clark's foil, just being as different from him as humanly possible.

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eyeloch · 7 years

Note

Any head cannons on what Moreena Krai (she’s not an OC) thinks of Ezra and Sabine’s relationship?

WELL! I certainly didn’t know she was a canon character. It’s not like I wrote my second ever fic about her or anything. Or a fun little thing involving her and Ezra set during a harvest I wrote last year! …sorry to be sarcastic there ;)!

But anyway:

So, Mo’s off on Alderaan, and likely dies there in canon.

But that isn’t much fun, so for @meldy-arts‘ future AU, she’ll most certainly live!

Being from Lothal, as whispers of this mysterious message from that planet reach Alderaan, the local COMPNOR people try to recruit her to “show loyalty” and such. She’s only been on Alderaan for a year at most, and is frankly still reeling from massive culture shock. Thus she’s sufficiently intimidated to go along with them!

She doesn’t become an Imperial Cadet or anything, but goes to some after school classes designed to improve loyalty in the Alderaanian kids (who will often delight in debate and finding holes in logic). Moreena keeps her mouth shut, and her ears firmly closed to the nonsense they try to tell her there.

Being utterly out of her depth in classes on literature and philosophy (no matter how many catch-up lessons she tries to take), she finds herself focusing on practical skills - since she’s actually ahead of most of the class when it comes to things like repairing bits of tech, first aid, working with textiles and (obviously) agriculture.

Since her Mum and Dad, dispute her Grandmother’s influence had made their displeasure with being on Alderaan (and the Empire in general) quite clear, the Krai’s remained on a watchlist by the ISB agent and informants in city they now lived in for years to follow.

One of Moreena’s friends that she’d made in the after-school activities (which weren’t so bad, if you ignored all the nonsense between the physical exercise) turned out to be something of a rebel recruiter, who gradually (and with increasingly less subtlety) explained a little about the Rebellion.

Moreena, now 17, finally heard Ezra’s message.

After some long and difficult discussions with the whole family, all of the Krai family took up the offer Mo’s friend gave them - they’d be spirited away from ISB eyes in an “accident”, then sent to help with agriculture, repairs and resource management on a hidden Rebel world.

Moreena’s younger sister was actually the most opposed to this idea - her grandmother, while Alderaani to her core, was increasingly disdainful of the way the Empire had ignored the traditions and customs of her world, and she actually rather relished the chance to help to deflate their pride!

Moreena takes surprisingly well to managing and co-ordinating aid and supplies, learning how to stand up for herself while also taking other ideas on board.

And thus they aren’t on Alderaan when it is destroyed!

If this Rebel world was Yarvin 4 (where she’d doubtless reunite with Ezra) or another location (where refugees and such were hidden away from prying eyes) I’d say was up to Mel! Assuming they don’t meet again until Lothal is liberated, however….

Lothal being free from the Empire’s influence is a big boast to moral, so is shared all over the rebellion!

Moreena just knows she should return and help her home.

She doesn’t leave straight away, since there’s people where she currently is who need her help, but she makes preperations as soon as she’s made up her mind.

In the end, her parents head to Lothal with her, while her younger sister and her Grandma stay to continue the roles they’ve settled into.

It’s sad, but all parties do eventually agree it’s the right thing - and promise to visit as often as they can.

Moreena and Ezra recognise each other almost instantly, then doubt themselves! They’ve both grown a lot since they were dusty kids laughing about kicking stormtroopers in the shins.

She’s also a little surprised to see a Mandalorian beside him - from what she’d heard in the rebel bases, they were mostly keeping to themselves - still too busy sorting out the fallout from their latest civil war to help the rest of the galaxy.

Not that she says as much - Alderaan did teach her some tact!

While there’s more than a few teething troubles, Mo and Ez settle back into an easy friendship.

Sabine’s usually close by too, and there’s a degree of something she feels about the two’s closeness.

Not jealousy, more a quiet sadness that she couldn’t have been with them through the things they made little jokes about and deep grief they seemed to know about the other.

But over time, things like Sabine’s raw engineering and artistic genius lets her get to know the Mandalorian in her own right, as opposed to Ezra’s friend and obvious crush, though both deny it!

She’s honestly utterly thrilled as the relationship becomes clearer - she knew they both adored the kriff out of each other (in increasingly romantic ways), so it’s good they’re being honest!

…Sabine’s mother implying Lothal belonged to Clan Wren did make things between Moreena and Sabine rather frosty for a a little while. Sabine talked about the benefits of this declaration of protection, but Moreena was more concerned about how this changed trade between Lothal and some of its trading partners - many of whom remembered Death Watch!

#sabezra #moreena krai #sabine wren #ezra bridger #eye headcanon #miraverse

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