#what kind of alternate reality did i enter-

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

[cjlouwho]

What would the 118's reaction be if they met Roker at a call scene?

They’d all kind of freeze up, because when tf did Tommy go to SWAT? Except Buck would think he was imagining things because “I feel like I see him everywhere now 😞”

But Eddie would be like, “no, you are seeing him right now. Why didn’t he tell me??”

Chimney would be convinced they entered an alternate reality where everything is a little mixed up. “Quick! Everyone with wives, make sure they’re still your wife!”

Hen would be asking if they’ve never seen someone before who simply favors someone else to which Eddie would look at her like 🙃

Bobby would say that sometimes breakups lead to major changes in someone’s life and they feel the need to go a different route.

When Rocker notices them all staring (but especially Buck) after the situation has been handled, he walks over with a smug little grin and says “I know the lafd gets boners for us swat men, but a picture would really help when you think of me tonight”

And that’s when they realize ohhh yeah, this is definitely not tommy.

Buck takes a picture anyway.

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

[vexxandra]

what is coming? (timeless pick-a-card)

for those who need comfort, or dream of the future, this might be the pac for you ☆ 3-17-23 .

PILE ONE ; " i'm so tired " ...

how long have you been keeping yourself awake? it's up to you to decide whether that statement was metaphorical or literal, but the point still stands. can't catch sleep? it's not your fault. you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you deserve to rest. sleep is a blessing that you will catch up on soon. the mistakes of your past shouldn't stop you from rejuvenating yourself. i'm sorry this relief from life has been taken from you.

i can see that what's coming toward you is more closure. conflicts being resolved, and action being taken to prevent future problems from happening. peace is coming, and more spiritual peace- however you may find it. you are finding what is lost or missing; a confidant, a part of yourself you lost, or a sense of responsibility. this will make you feel a little less confused in this dark time. whatever you find, make sure it benefits you, not hinders you.

extra: the number 7 or 16, cheerleading, studying, driving/cars, violent - carolesdaughter, the need to please, disappointment, "you are more than your thoughts, more than your past" green, spring months, gaming to cope, betrayal, "you deserve love because you exist"

PILE TWO ; " i am fighting " ...

you are so strong. your strength is commendable, and so is your resolve. you are making me smile. things seem to be good for you right now, but have they always? no one is born to be so resilient, it's our experiences that shape us to be who we are, and yours have molded you into a warrior, pile two. you are so strong, have you heard that before? i feel like you don't get recognized enough. but you suffered, and i see that. i see that, and i see you. thank you, for never giving up.

stability is reaching you. i feel like you have a 'fake it till you make it mindset' in order to reach what you truly want. but i see that you will soon have whatever you desire. it will be unmistakably yours, and you'll know in your heart when you find it. you will be emotionally fulfilled, and reach a state of kind of 'enlightenment' where you're like, i know what im doing now, it all makes sense. it will be a moment where everything clicks, and everything settles down.

extra: pink, red, gold, orange, chains of pearls, instruments, stuffy, nostalgia, memories like the color yellow, may, june, 2018, "this feels right", back to the future/past, vintage, aesthetic, dream girl vibes, photos, "everything is okay"

PILE THREE ; " where is the sun ? " ...

you have lost your sun, pile three. you remind me of a sunflower, looking for the sun to turn to, but what happens if the sun isn't there? you are aimless and lost, trying to find what has been stolen from you. but it hasn't, has it? it's time to take off your lenses, and realize that this isn't healthy. you have been stuck in a cycle for a while, and i feel like you kind of actually trap yourself in it. i get it, it's better to be trapped than face the reality. but is the pain you're causing yourself really worth it? please find strength in yourself to break free. trust me, it's better than staying. im rooting for you, pile three.

what's coming toward you is the strength to pull yourself out of this negative situation. i see you putting yourself first, and sparing yourself of further heartbreak, disappointment, and sadness. i can see that this will sort of be a tower moment for you; the tower has always been shaky, but it's only now that you are fleeing from it, and i'm proud of you. it's hard, but you can do it. after, you might find yourself stuck in your own thoughts secondguessing, but you did the right thing. never forget that. i also see someone of importance entering your life, a little after this.

extra: dont worrry darling, omori, pink beats, neurodivergence, black, alternative culture, crosses, pinky promises, mother figure, chocolate, willy wonka and the chocolate factory, balloons, lamps, llamas, "why would you leave me?", "because i couldn't stay", polish

[littlefireball]

ᴡʏ|ᴘᴏᴏʟ ꜱ*x (ᴍ)

ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴍᴜᴛ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ/ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛᴇ/ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ ʜᴀꜱ ᴡᴇᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ/ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx/ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.3ᴋ

"Fuck!Y/N!" Wooyoung mind was full of erotic fantasies: you panting underneath him, repeatedly calling out his name; your warm and moist wall enveloping his large cock and occasionally sucking his shaft, making him excited. "Fuck~~" Feeling himself about to climax, Wooyoung increased the speed of his right hand, and finally, with a shout, he came all over the tissue. He gasped for air, slowly calming down and throwing away the tissue.

He couldn't even count how many times he had masturbated today. Ever since you appeared in front of him, his sexual desire had been like a wildfire, ceaseless. You and he were just friends, but his feelings for you clearly went beyond friendship. You were so beautiful─your smile always touched people's hearts, your gentle eyes exuded kindness and warmth. He had liked you for a long time, but he never dared to confess, afraid that you didn't like him back.

-----

"Wooyoung, wanna hang out with us?" Yunho knocked on the door.

"No, I'm going to sleep. Don't know why I'm so tired."

"Okay, rest well."

"I knew he wouldn't come! If you had said Y/N was going out with us, he would have definitely come out." Despite San intentionally speaking softly, Wooyoung could hear him loud and clear.

"Shhhh!! Don't be that loud! He will hear us!" Seonghwa quickly reminded them to be quiet.

"Tsk... those guys..." Wooyoung ignored the others outside and fell asleep, gradually entering dreamland.

-----

"Fuck!! Wooyoung!! You are so big!!" His cock entered your vagina, and a warm sensation drove him crazy.

"Oh! Y/N! You feel so good!" He started thrusting, pushing deep inside, hitting your soft flesh.

"Ahh!! Wooyoung! I'm gonna cum!" The passion inside you burst forth at the sound of your lover's nickname...

"!!!" He woke up suddenly from the dream, sweating profusely. "Did I...!?" He wiped his forehead and sighed, noticing his slight erection. He had already cum several times, and yet he still remained unsatisfied.

"What's wrong with me?"

He shook his head helplessly, realizing that his sexual desire was particularly strong today. But he had no interest in masturbating anymore; he just wanted to sleep and extinguish the burning desire. However, the erotic thoughts in his mind kept driving away the sleep, making it impossible for him to fall asleep again.

"Fine. Just go swimming!" If sleeping wouldn't work, he decided to do some exercise to tire himself out and hopefully make those thoughts disappear.

-----

He dove into the water, his head slightly tilted back, legs moving in a continuous swimming motion, arms stroking powerfully in alternating movements. The cool pool water helped him calm down, and his tense body finally relaxed.

"Ah, I should have come swimming earlier!" He sat by the pool to rest, raising his head to look at the moon hanging high in the sky, the stars dotted in the night sky like a captivating painting.

Just as he was immersed in the moment, a voice pulled him back to reality.

"Wooyoung?" He quickly turned around and saw you walking towards him step by step. Even though you were dressed simply in a T-shirt and shorts, you were still enchanting in Wooyoung's eyes.

"Y...Y/N?" He stammered, feeling guilty as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"Why do you look at me as if you've seen a ghost?"

You smiled with confusion, sitting by the pool and dipping your feet in the water.

"More frightening than a ghost..." He muttered under his breath, deliberately lowering his voice so you couldn't hear him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. By the way, why are you here? I thought you couldn't swim." He quickly changed the topic, lying down and pretending to be tired, afraid of you noticing his erection again.

"Can't sleep, so I decided to take a walk. I saw you when passing by the pool. How about you? Are you swimming so late at night?"

"Yeah, I can't sleep either, so I decided to come swimming."

"But there's no lifeguard now, right?"

"Shh!! Don't be so loud, it might cause trouble if we're found out!"

"Oh? So you sneaked in too?"

"Aren't you sneaking in as well?"

"But I don't swim." The two of you bantered like elementary school kids, the process was quite amusing, and the laughter echoed as if afraid that others couldn't hear it.

"I thought you would go out with Yunho and the others. Since we're here in the countryside for a rare vacation, shouldn't you go out and explore?" Wooyoung asked.

Yes, you and the four of them had come to the countryside for a vacation, enjoying the rare holidays.

"Aren't you also not going out with them?"

"I'm just tired."

"Oh? Do you get tired too? Aren't you the most energetic one?" Your joke made him blush and turn his head awkwardly.

"I...I'm going swimming, it's too cold lying down.

Watch him swimming gracefully and fluently. His body lines were soft and his muscles distinct, moving like a fish in the water. This made you unable to help but fall into his beauty. Like him, your insatiable desire ignited unconsciously.

"I look handsome, right?" His words brought you back to reality, and you blushed instantly, avoiding his gaze, not knowing how to respond.

"I noticed that you've been staring at me." He approached the pool again, revealing a charming smile.

"I...I...you're the only thing moving by the pool! Of course, I would naturally look at you!" He couldn't help but chuckle, your explanation was too cute. Embarrassed, you couldn't continue and decided to leave.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To the room. I'm tired."

"Hey! Y/N- Watch out!"

As you hurriedly walked away, you lost your balance on the slippery ground and fell into the water. Your legs accidentally broke the water surface, creating a splash. You desperately tried to grab onto something around you but couldn't stabilize your body.

"Are you okay??" Wooyoung nervously helped you up.

"Cough- I was so scared." Out of nervousness and fear, you didn't hesitate to cling to Wooyoung's arms.

"Be careful next time, the ground is slippery."

"Hmm... my clothes are soaked, I have to change for a new set."

He unintentionally looked down at your wet upper body. Your chest pressed against his chest and your cleavage fully exposed. The wet white shirt clung to your skin, outlining your graceful curves, and even the sight of your bra was clear. Needless to say, his erect member pressed directly against your lower body, as if eagerly wanting to enter you.

"Fuck..." Wooyoung bit his lip, not knowing what to do, and tried to retract his hand from your waist, but touching your waist made him even more embarrassed.

You suddenly held onto his arms, not letting him go, and shyly bowed your head, softly saying, "Don't move...others might see..."

"Ah...I...you..." His thoughts couldn't function in the blurred mind, unable to form a complete sentence.

"And do you...need help too?" Wooyoung stared at your blushing cheeks, dumbfounded and unable to believe what he just heard. His eyes widened, his chin slightly dropped, and although he tried to close his mouth, his jaw naturally opened.

You didn't know where your confidence came from but didn't consider the possibility of him rejecting you outright and cutting ties with you as a loose woman.

Ah, you really are an idiot.

"Then how can you help me?" He tilted his head, his eyes teasing, and moved closer to you.

"Can I kiss you?" Ah, you've really gone crazy! How could you say something like that? Your mouth is always faster than your brain, blurting things out without thinking.

"I...I...am..." Just as you wanted to apologize, he unexpectedly kissed you.

You felt his soft lips gently cover yours, and a warm feeling surged in your heart. You couldn't help but open your lips, following his kiss. The two of you intertwined your tongues, your breaths overlapping, bringing an infinite sense of sweetness. His hands caressed your hair, stroking your cheeks, and then moved to your waist, creating an indescribable intimacy. Your hands slowly wrapped around his neck, drawing yourself closer to his body. You gradually became entangled, the kisses becoming deeper. The occasional bird chirps, the faint sound of the wind, gradually disappeared in their kiss, only the clear sound of your kissing lingering in your ears.

His hands moved along your waistline to the hem of your clothes, pulling it up. You followed his movements and raised your hands, letting him take off your T-shirt and casually throwing it on the shore.

"I've wanted this for so long."

"Me too." What? Did he really not mishear? An expression of disbelief appeared on his face again, and he couldn't help but kiss your lips. His hands caressed your back, and the cold touch gave you goosebumps but couldn't lower your body temperature.

"I want you, Wooyoung," you left his lips and whispered in his ear.

"But I don't have a condom."

"It's fine. I'll take the pill."

Your lips fiercely intertwined again, the passionate atmosphere evident in the fiery kiss. Your tongues entangled wildly, the kisses no longer gentle but filled with desire and fervor. He caressed your round buttocks, tracing circles along the lines, then moved to the waistband and pulled it down along with the underwear. Your lips momentarily parted from each other, and he lowered his swim trunks to his thighs, freeing his cock.

His size surprised you, the reddened and slightly purple glans still clearly visible on the water's surface. "Tell me if it hurts," you nodded in response, and he gently pressed against your lower body, easily sliding into your inner walls with the help of the water's flow.

"Fuck!! Wooyoung!! You are so big!!" The scene in his dreams came true: you were moaning underneath of him, calling out his name from time to time. When he thrusted, your mouth formed an 'O' shape, astonished by how amazing and well-fitted his size was for you. He lifted your legs to allow you to straddle his waist, fully adapting to each other.

"Please move, Young." Oh fuck! This turns him on harder. He thrusts forcefully, plunging deep with the assistance of the water's flow.

"Fuck! Wooyoung!!" He began thrusting. The speed wasn't fast or slow; the intensity was just right, not too strong to cause pain. The water followed his movements, occasionally splashing against the edge of the pool. You closed the distance between each other, the breaths spraying on your skin, the contrasting cold and hot sensations giving you goosebumps.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Your back arched, head resting against the edge of the pool, eyes tightly closed, feeling the satisfaction in your lower body.

"You feel so good, Y/N," he bent down, burying his head in your neck, licking away the dew on your skin, greedily inhaling your scent. His lips brushed against your neck, planting kisses on every inch of skin, occasionally nibbling and leaving crimson red marks. His cock hit your soft flesh without any error, causing your body to writhe with each thrust.

"Mmm~ Harder, please." Upon hearing your request, he braced his hands against the pool edge and began to accelerate and exert more force.

"Ah!! Fuck!!" His skin pressed against your buttocks, hitting without mercy. Your back collided with the cold wall, making a loud banging sound. You felt him penetrate deeper and deeper, the distance between the two of you getting narrower, and your legs bending more.

Your chests pressed tightly against each other, feeling each other's body temperature, breaths, and even hearing the pounding heartbeat clearly. With each deep penetration, you couldn't help but hold your breath.

"Ha! Ha! Emm-" You buried your head in his neck, eyes tightly closed, moaning softly. Unable to make loud noises, you could only make muffled sounds, but it was enough to excite Wooyoung.

Suddenly, he increased his speed, catching you off guard and causing you to moan loudly. "Ahh!! Fuck, Wooyoung!! Slow down!!"

"You don't want me to slow down, I know."

"Fuckkkk!!"

"Louder, my girl." You no longer cared if anyone heard, shouting loudly and clearly for anyone passing by to hear.

"Ah-!!" Wooyoung felt himself nearing climax, and his thrusts became sloppy and lost their rhythm.

"Fuck!" After both of you moaned loudly, you and Wooyoung reached climax together, and Wooyoung kissed your forehead before slowly pulling out of you.

"Was this okay for my first time?" Wooyoung eagerly anticipated your answer, his face filled with pride.

"Why are you so direct?" You lightly tapped his chest, shyly burying your face in his chest, pursing your lips, and softly said in his ear, "It was great."

He couldn't help but laugh out loud, his unrestrainable smile looking like that of a child, filled with pride.

"Let's go back? You must be cold." You nodded, and he kissed your lips again.

You both returned to the shore, and he thoughtfully wrapped towels around yourselves, holding onto your waist with one hand and embracing you tightly, intertwining your arms. He gathered his courage and decided to confess his feelings.

"Y/N? Can you be my girlfriend?" Upon hearing these long-awaited words, you couldn't contain your smile any longer, nodding vigorously.

"Yes."

He joyfully lifted you up and twirled you around, and you exclaimed in surprise. He put you back on the ground and pecked your cheek. Your arms wrapped around each other, deeply intertwined. Cheeks gently pressed against each other, the soft warmth and breath entwining, as if creating a small and safe island for the two of you. In this embrace, time seemed to stop, and the two of you became the entire world.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you more."

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 04

a/n: King of My Heart was supposed to be mainly a "normal" series, not much Social Media content, and though I like doing those chapters they limit my imagination at some point. So I decided to mix it, I'm going to alternate chapters, and we are gonna have the best of both worlds (or so I hope), seeing people react to Y/n and Mick's relationship but also having a privileged seat to watch their interactions and feelings unfold. This chapter is when their first interaction happened, a bit before the first chapter of the series. I hope you guys like it <3 let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, fluff, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 2.3k

part 03 | series masterlist | part 05

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that's why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

When Mick saw Y/n for the first time, he was curious and speechless, both things that are involved in the process of blooming love. He had no idea at the time, though in his head, maybe he was just excited to be in a new environment, a place that would embrace him, teach him, and accept him for who he was, not for his father's legacy, or an expectation based on a remote reality.

When she entered the room, he knew people kept talking, working, and breathing, yet he had no idea how because for him, it was different, it was the first time he saw her, and she was suddenly the center of his attention. Big brown eyes stared around everything, nut-brown hair around her head like a halo, full lips, a round nose, and brown skin. Y/n was breathtaking, and he only noticed he was holding his when a friend touched his shoulder. Mick directed his gaze to Lewis for a split second, and he felt lucky he, too, was looking at her. Otherwise, the Mercedes driver would likely see the weird way in which his friend seemed lost. And, of course, his coworker was looking at her too. Who would not want to look at her? They had to be crazy not to. If given the opportunity, Mick would stare at that woman the whole day, and he did not even know her name. So, yes, in his mind, it could only be explained as a curiosity. Although he comprehended very well what kind of curiosity it was and that, he had never really felt that, quite the opposite, he was usually doing his own thing and minding his business, and new people were welcome. And he was friendly, but he was not the type of person to seek someone’s attention or friendship, at least not so fast, not so intently. Y/n was not only a new person, but she was the bearer of new and strange feelings in the pit of Mick’s stomach. 

“Oh, she’s so sly, you see. She comes and goes around without people noticing. It scares me sometimes,” Hamilton spoke, smiling in her direction. Mick thought: how could she come and go unnoticed? The second the door opened, he could not take his eyes off her. 

“It’s a matter of practice,” she replied with a small grin. The way her lips folded looked almost artistic, like the final brushstroke in a work of art, when everything seems to fit together to create the final result, the bigger picture, “Now, how’s my favorite brother doing?” 

Mick did not even notice the way he finally took a breath of fresh air. She was not his friend’s girlfriend, although Mick did not know if her being his sister would make things any easier. 

“I’m your only brother Y/n,” Lewis reminded, and she huffed as if he was pointing out something unnecessary. 

“You can be my only and favorite brother, both things at the same time. Stop being so pokey,” she joked.

“Mick, this is Y/n, my baby sister,” he turned to Mick, who was able to recompose in seconds. He was a driver after all, he had to be fast and have good reflexes, “Y/n, this is Mick, my friend and work colleague.”

“Nice to meet you, Mick” She waved and made her grin wider, in fact, when their eyes met, her lips opened in a full big smile. It felt like watching a flower blossom, and it also felt like a gesture only for him.

“Likewise, Y/n.”

“I’ve heard you’re new around Mercedes. Welcome to the family.” 

“Feels like it indeed,” he grinned, “A family, I mean.” 

“It’s good to hear that. God knows this whole thing can be tough. You don’t need to have people making it worse,” she pointed, and that was all it took for Mick to know that Y/n was more than talkative, and honest. He was sure she would tell him the truth about whatever he asked, her genuine opinion, no holding backs.

Someone seemed to call Lewis, and he said something neither Y/n nor Mick could hear properly and then left. Her brown eyes were kept glued right into his ocean ones, almost daring him to deflect. He felt exposed to her, but in a good way, because for some reason, he wanted her to be capable of reading his thought through his eyes, “You’re, uh- it’s your first time in the paddock? I never saw you around before.” 

She offers him a small smile, looks at someone in the back, waves, and then turns her attention to his face again, “Nah, I’m here all the time, just away from the cameras and most of the eyes.” 

“Can I ask you why?” 

She shrugged, “I mean, of course you can. Am I gonna answer, though? That’s a different question,” Y/n joked, and Mick could only smile brighter and roll his eyes. 

“I-  I’m just curious,” he seems to breathe for a second when their eyes lock again, “about you,” he finishes.

“Yeah, me too,” it’s a whisper like she is telling it to herself, acknowledging that she, too, wants to know every little detail about him. Her eyes divert to an engineer that passes them, her hands go up like the last time, and she gives a gentle wave. “I like to be myself. I mean, I like to be Y/n Y/l/n. I hope you don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my brother and our family, but in some circumstances, your name can be a blessing and a curse” Y/n’s eyes searched for his again. She was waiting for the short nod he gave. A confirmation he understood the situation too, a way of demonstrating that she could keep going because he knew there was more to come. “I didn't want people to pin my success on my brother’s name, to say I had it easier just because he made it. The media loves to do that with women, saying they only made it because of a man or trying to pin hard work and talent as luck.” 

He nodded, “I get it. I used to do that when I was a bit younger, to use a different surname so people would not act differently or expect more than one hundred percent of me. It’s tiring. I can sympathize.” 

“A Schumacher, huh?” Y/n tatters before adding, “My brother told me a bit of what went on. For the record, it’s their loss. I’m sorry you had to go through such heartless people, but I’m glad they let you go so you can be here now,” so we could meet, so I could feel like drowning in your blue eyes, so that my body would feel lighter, she thought. 

“I’m happy to be here too. I don’t think I would change a thing,” Y/n watches as the tip of his tongue goes out to wet his pink, plush lips, the way his eyes dart quickly around her whole face.

“It gives you experience at the end of the day,” she is quick to point out, feeling a tad nervous.

Schumacher nods, and before he can ask one more question, to hear her quirk remarks one more time, someone shows up, calling him to look at something new they did in the car. 

“See you around, Mick,” she gives him that same half smile from a work of art before she touches his arm when passing. He could swear he shivered with the feeling of her skin against his. 

Y/n goes around, greeting some of the staff she is friends with before finally reaching Toto. He gives her a pointing look, and she rolls her eyes. The older man has always been really supportive of Y/n as well, they would always talk when she came to the paddock, and their conversations would go around about anything and everything. Yn always admired Toto’s leadership skills, and she was open about how she thought his kind of work not only asked you for the technical side but, most importantly, the human side. Toto was able to captivate Lewis, and he did just the same with Y/n. He was also one of the people who made sure her privacy and image were safe around the Mercedes garage. People respected him, so if Toto Wolff says, ‘nobody talks about the fact that Lewis has a sister and she’s here a lot’ that is precisely what happens: nobody would talk, or most of them would not. Y/n was aware her scheme of keeping this under wraps was collective work, and she was happy to be in a place where people liked her brother so much they chose to protect her too. 

“You took forever to show up this year. What happened?” he asked, taking off his headphones.

“A lot is going on with work, I’m launching a new collection soon, and you know I like to be in every step of the process, right?” 

“Literally,” he joked, pointing to her new shoes, which he knew were most likely from said new collection. Y/n would always use them as a test, making sure they were comfortable and safe for the customers. 

She jokingly rolled her eyes before adding, “Yeah, exactly, but doing this is quite difficult sometimes, especially when you want to be attentive to the human side of those who work with you.”

“You’re doing a great job, and I’m proud of how far you’ve come since the first time you appeared here, a small kid determined to do her own name,” he held her chin high, smiling. “Let me know when this new collection drops. I’m sure Susie would love to get one of every shape and color.” 

Her smile grew wider, she loved Susie Wolff, and she loved their love. They were very private, but Y/n has been around for long enough to know how big and strong their love is, and she enjoys watching it from the sidelines whenever they interact. 

“I will be sure to send some exclusives for her.” 

Toto gave her one of his side smiles and nodded before having to leave to attend to some problem, so Y/n made her rounds around, asking questions, interacting, and making sure to annoy her older brother every once in a while. She took some time aside and sat with some of the media crew to answer her work e-mails while they typed away creating content. It was refreshing to be in the Mercedes garage. The chaos worked perfectly well, and she always felt energized. 

When work was done and, it was time to leave, Y/n bid her goodbyes and did a small search with her eyes for a blond mop of hair, which did not go unnoticed by her brother. 

“He had to leave a bit earlier,” Lewis explained.

“What?” she asked, securing her laptop case and bag in one arm and starting her walk to the garage. Lewis knew it was her way of changing the subject, to shift the attention. 

“You’re my sister,” 

“It’s been twenty-one years. You would think this is an established fact by now,” Y/n was a fan of using humor as a coping mechanism too. 

“Mick is a driver,” he adds.

“Yeah, he’s like your teammate too now, right?” 

“He’s also my friend,” Lewis points.

“That’s good. He seems like a good friend to have around,” her curls bounce as she reaches his car and opens the back door to load her things there. 

“You’re deflecting, Y/n.” 

“And you are not stating your points with clarity, Lewis,” she let go of the door, shutting it in the sequence and opening the passenger one.

“I saw your interaction, saw your interest perhaps, you’re not aware of it, or you’re just trying to brush it off and lie to yourself, but I’m doing my job as the older brother and warning you: by dating someone famous you may have to give up some things, such as your privacy,” now they’re sitting inside the car, he’s facing her, and she’s looking ahead, a woof of air leaves her lips before she finally looks at her brother. “You know how the media is, and if they even sniff a new romance between you, a Hamilton, and Mick, a Schumacher, they won’t go easy. They will want all the details, and I trust the Mercedes people, but we don’t know everyone. There are new people always showing up. They can let it slip about you without intentions, share information without noticing.”

She opens her mouth to answer, but unlike the usual days, she doesn’t have anything ready to say. 

“And don’t forget the fact that he is my coworker, Y/n. If anything goes down the wrong path, you will either have to face him daily or lose my races. You will have to face your heartbreak every day. Do you remember Jonathan from high school? How you missed a week of classes when that fucker dumped you?! And then you had to finish the year there anyways, had to sit in the same class as him.”

“And I changed schools by the end of the semester,” she adds with a small nod. She understands his point, and she even agrees to some extent. However, she wanted to add that it was a different context, that Anthony was a douche, he never really liked her, and nobody in that school really did, this being the reason she decided to leave. She was a lot of things but not a coward, though she knew that was not what her brother was saying. She felt like reminding herself.

“I’m just trying to take care of you. I would hate to watch you suffer,” his voice is soft, and so are his eyes and hands when they reach through the center console to lace their fingers.

There’s a small smile of appreciation on her lips, “I love you, and I love how careful you are with me, but I’m not a kid anymore” She tightens her grip on his hand, and they share an attentive and agreeing look for some seconds when she adds, “And Mick is not Jonathan.” 

“That’s what scares me.” 

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

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[wavesoutbeingtossed]

OK, I had a fleeting thought about the TTPD announcement then lost it and now I think I remember what it was, so bear with me.

Disclaimer: I don’t actually think this is what the intro is alluding to! I think the poem is a direct reference to the actual songs on the TTPD! Or at least its themes. But, it’s stuck in my head and you all know I love to write about her albums so here we are.

The introduction to the album has us all gagged, right? The opening salvo of what is going to be a gut punch of a tale:

For some reason last night, my brain likened these lines to the relationship’s corresponding albums.

And so I enter into evidence

The thesis statement: She’s looking back on her own words, a reflection of her lived experience, what she shared and what she didn’t. She is submitting the case files for consideration:

My tarnished coat of arms

Reputation: an album about the how the world turned against her, but she found a love that felt safe and warm amidst the storm. Her very identity was put into question and she had to relearn what mattered to her. Yet, as we’ve since gleaned, that growth also seemed to be part of what ultimately doomed the relationship, and caused immeasurable heartbreak in the process.

My muses, acquired like bruises

Lover: His presence and their love inspired some of her most vulnerable love songs, where she put her own anxieties, fears and hopes in the spotlight, opening herself up to a degree that reached new heights in her music and her life. But those same vulnerabilities also left her open to greater hurt, especially if those same things may have been used as a flashpoint for conflict.

*To be clear: I think there actual muses she’s referring to on the album are multiple; I kind of get the feeling that it’s going to be about her body of work, that it may not just be about an individual or individuals but a whole host of “muses” that have inspired and hurt her, but… That doesn’t fit into this post lol.

My talismans and charms

Folklore and Evermore: Using the “magic” of fiction or esoteric stories to process feelings she may have been experiencing, or to deal with difficult situations she felt like she couldn’t share, did not want to, or maybe did not realize were as severe as she now knows they were in hindsight.

(Talismans and charms both being objects believed to hold magical properties to protect against evil/bring good fortune)

In other words, using the two pandemic albums to stave off difficult choices/realizations, escaping into this alternate reality (the cabin in the woods, as it were). Putting a magic spell over them for a time to “protect” them from the world turning upside down, perhaps by the way she pulled him into her world for a little bit too. But also as it turns out protecting herself from what might have been happening in front of her in the fallout. Using her music as a lifeline for herself, but also in some ways for them. Because the music is always going to be the way forward.

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

Midnights: A survey of difficult sleepless nights throughout her life, and the aftermath of the things that kept her up at night. As we’ve all talked about, it feels pretty likely that the reason these ideas felt so salient to her was because she was processing similar feelings about her current relationship. It may have felt like there was a metaphorical clock ticking about the fate of the relationship, counting down to a now-inevitable explosion.

(Also interesting: all the clock imagery in the Midnights artwork and promotion.)

The wordplay of the bomb-ticking with love-bombing is both genius and distressing and may be its own post once TTPD is released because the implications are… uncomfortable to say the least. It’s very, “now you’re running down the hallway, you know what they all say, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” There’s the clock running to the end of the relationship, but it could also be a reference to coming to expect a profuse display of love after every conflict or instance of hurt, implying a cycle of dysfunction, whether in the past or present.

My veins of pitch black ink

The Tortured Poets Department: It’s not just an allusion to being metaphorically dead, blood turning dark once the heart has stopped beating (like the end of the relationship); her heart has gone cold. It’s more pointedly a reference to the words spilling out of her, the way writing is a lifeline. (Which she has said herself many times, but specifically about the promotion of TTPD on tour.) The songs on this album are swirling through her veins, and this bloodletting is a lifesaving act for her.

All’s fair in love and poetry

It’s the summation of the files she’s produced as evidence. She’s laying bare the good, the bad and the ugly throughout these chapters, and with the submission of TTPD, the final one, the jury can reach its final conclusion. (As will the relationship.)

The Chairman of the Tortured Poets Department has defended her thesis in six parts; it’s up to the board to do the rest.

(Can you tell I’m obsessed with this poem and I can’t wait to see how it ties in to the actual album?)

[fluentmoviequoter]

hi love! i was hoping you could write more about Dalton, maybe like where he meets the reader at a Halloween party from a sorority, since Chris is trying to get him a gf. It can be kinda like a Cinderella kind of thing since everyone is wearing costumes and masks, he doesn’t know who is the mysterious girl that danced all night.

I love this idea so much!! This was a ton of fun to write! I don't think I actually said this was a Halloween party, just a masquerade party, so if you want to imagine it taking place at a different time you can. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Warnings: switches POV, movie references, fluff, maybe a little angst?. 1.8k words.

A/N: I loved writing this so much and it actually inspired me to do a Halloween Writing Party, so I'll be posting more information about that at the beginning of October! The title and the last lines are references from Another Cinderella Story (2008), and I recommend listening to the song 'Just That Girl'. :)

Just That Girl

“We should go.”

Chris looks at the party invite on the desk, then looks around like she’s entered an alternate reality.

“Who are you and what did you do with Dalton Lambert?” Chris asks.

“Chris, it’s a party where no one knows who anyone else is. It’s a party with no complications, no danger. Let’s do it.”

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I am agreeing because this will never happen again. And we can finally get you a girlfriend,” Chris states as she stands.

“It’s a party, not a date. We need masks and costumes.”

“Oh, dear Dolphin, never fear when Chris is near.”

✧✧✧✧✧

“The wig doesn’t seem excessive?” you question, holding the synthetic hair up to your head.

“No. It is entirely necessary, it pulls the whole look together,” your friend insists.

You roll your eyes but comply, tying your mask on before securing your wig over it. Your friend adds a few finishing touches before deeming you ready to go.

“I didn’t realize sororities had so many themed parties with such strict rules,” you state as you exit her bedroom.

“Yeah. Which reminds me, you aren’t allowed to take off your mask, change your costume after you arrive, or tell anyone your name.”

“My name?”

“Yep. Gotta let everyone wonder who the mysterious pretty girls are.”

As you descend the stairs, all the sorority sisters are already welcoming guests, and people are dancing and talking. You nod to your friend and go your separate ways. Walking through the growing crowd, you notice the many costumes and masks. Entering the kitchen, you’re surprised to see only two people getting drinks.

“You’re still not going to tell me where you got this costume so quickly?” the boy asks.

“Flynn Rider,” you interject, “wherever she got it, it’s a great costume.”

He looks up and smiles, the only part of his face visible. “Thanks.”

The girl looks between the two of you before walking away, asking a guy to dance as she exits the kitchen.

“Would you like to dance?” you ask.

“Sure. I’m not very good, never really danced before,” he answers, taking your hand.

“No one’s good, we just pretend to be. Let the mask give you all of the confidence you need,” you whisper conspiratorially.

He laughs, and you wrap your other hand around his forearm as you navigate through the crowd entering the kitchen. He pulls you closer and doesn’t let go until you’re on the dance floor. You interlock your fingers behind his neck, smiling at him as his hands settle on your hips. He begins swaying you as a slower song plays.

“I know we’re not supposed to talk about personal things, but the girl you came with?”

“Best friend, former roommate, constant pain.”

You laugh and lean closer to him, wondering what you would be talking about now if you were elsewhere.

“What about you? Here with someone?”

“There is no someone to bring.”

He dances with you for three slow songs before the DJ changes the music.

“One more? I love this song,” you declare as the beat speeds up.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers, bowing before following your lead.

As the song ends, your friend comes over and asks you to help her make more punch, so you tell your mystery man you’ll see him later, hoping that you really do.

✧✧✧✧✧

Dalton watches the mystery girl walk away, catching a glimpse of the clock, which says it is nearly midnight. He sets out to find Chris, wondering how he can tell who she is with all these costumes. Luckily, he hears her before he turns a corner.

“You ready to go?” she asks.

“We can hang out a while longer,” Dalton answers.

“You want to dance with mystery girl again.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re going to try to find her tomorrow, I hope?”

“If she implies she’d be okay with it, absolutely.”

“I saw you two dancing; she’d be totally on board.”

They agree to meet in the front yard in thirty minutes and then go different ways. Dalton spots the girl walking out of the kitchen and rushes to her side.

“Any chance you have one more dance in you?”

“For you?” She responds, “Absolutely.”

✧✧✧✧✧

You sway through the end of a song, resting your head on your mystery man’s shoulder, attempting to wish your mask away. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I have to go, my friend is waiting.”

You lean back and look at him, pouting. “You’ll find me, right?" you whisper.

“Is that what you want?”

“More than anything.” You smooth his jacket as he nods. “I’ll be waiting. Thanks for making tonight so special.”

“Would you get in trouble if I told you something personal?”

You nod, then mumble, “Unless it’s really vague.”

“If we meet again, I’d like to draw you. But for now, our time is up.”

You hold his eyes as he backs up, your shoulders slumping when he finally turns around. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to remember every detail of his smile and his eyes.

“May I have this dance?” someone asks beside you.

Watching the spot where your mystery man just left, you accept the offer to keep yourself from chasing after him.

✧✧✧✧✧

“The sorority house isn’t a good idea, is it?” Dalton asks, pacing his dorm.

“Nope. They won’t tell you anything. Those shrews will probably conspire to keep you apart.”

“Shrews?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Dalton rolls his eyes and rubs his neck as his gaze drops to the sketch on his desk. He has drawn every detail he remembered but doesn't know how to find her.

“What if you just hang out in the center quad? You'd see her eventually, right?”

“I’m not going to do that, Chris. One, super creepy. Two, tons of students walk by at different times of day, it would be nearly impossible to find her that way.”

“And obsessing over her picture to devise a plan to find her isn’t super creepy?”

“Not when she said I could.”

“Wait, if you told her that you draw, why don’t you just hang out by the art building all day? If she’s as interested as she said, which she is, may I add, she’ll find you.”

“You’re a genius, Chris!” Dalton yells as he runs outside.

“I know!”

✧✧✧✧✧

You watch all of the students exiting the art building, standing on your tiptoes to get a good look at faces. None of them appear to be your mystery man. Sighing, you drop your head and walk to your class.

✧✧✧✧✧

Dalton waits outside the art building for two days, but his mystery girl never comes.

✧✧✧✧✧

By the end of the week, you feel like crying because it seems impossible.

“You look miserable,” your friend says as she enters your room.

"Because I am.”

“Mystery man?”

You nod, looking out the window as if he'll be there.

“Don’t give up, it’s only been a few days. That party idea was stupid, I see that now.”

“Especially stupid if you fell in love with a guy whose face you haven’t even seen.”

“Alright, Cinderella, buck up and find him. You’re not doing any good sitting here.”

✧✧✧✧✧

Dalton sighs as he slips his sketchbook into his bag after class is dismissed.

“Dalton, a word?” Professor Armagan asks.

“Of course.”

“Your works recently have been different. Not bad, only different. It’s as if the energy surrounding your art has shifted.”

“What could cause that?”

“Any emotion. Has something happened recently?”

“I met a girl at a masquerade party.”

“And now you’re living a Cinderella story?” Professor Armagan asks with a smile.

“Something like that,” Dalton answers before chuckling.

“Dalton, you’re an artist. Use the girl to make the art, and the art will get the girl. Does that make sense?”

Dalton tilts his head before shaking it.

Professor Armagan pats his arm. “It will.”

As Dalton walks out of the building, he thinks about what Professor Armagan said. He doesn’t realize his bag is unzipped until someone says something.

“Excuse me? You dropped this.”

✧✧✧✧✧

You pick up the paper and call out to its owner. Unintentionally, you see the drawing and look up quickly.

“Your hair is long,” you observe as your mystery man says, “You were wearing a wig.”

“You actually drew me,” you state, holding the picture up. “I thought that was just a line or something.”

“Beauty like that has to be documented. And I needed to remember what you looked like while I was searching.”

“You looked for me? I’ve been looking for you.”

Dalton mirrors your smile, stepping closer as he takes the sketch from you.

“We had to have passed each other.”

“I waited outside the art building between my classes but never saw you,” you explain.

“I must’ve gotten out while you were in class.”

You raise a hand and brush the hair from his eyes. “The mask did a disservice. Anything that covers that face does.”

“You’re one to talk. Who convinced you to cover up that face and hair?” Dalton counters, raising his hand to hold your wrist by his face.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. “I wanted to run after you at the party and do it.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you more every day since,” Dalton whispers. You lean forward, and he places a hand on your waist to stop you. “Am I allowed to know who I’m kissing?”

“The girl in the picture,” you tease before telling him your name. “And I’m guessing you’re not really Eugene Fitzherbert?”

“Dalton,” he tells you.

“Well, Dalton, pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.”

You raise both hands to his jaw as you kiss him, shivering as his hands pull you closer by your waist. Tipping your head back, Dalton deepens the kiss just as you pull back.

“Will you go on a date with me? Preferably one where I can see your face?” you ask.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I’m never letting you hide from me again.”

“Yeah, my friend called me Cinderella,” you tell him, laughing.

“My art professor said I was in a Cinderella story. She also said ‘Use the girl to make the art and the art will get the girl,’ whatever that means.”

You tap your hand against Dalton’s chest excitedly. “That’s exactly what happened!”

“So I’m the only one that doesn’t get it?”

“Dalton,” you begin, and Dalton has never heard his name sound so good. “You drew a picture of me, and then you dropped it, which is how we found each other again. You used me to make the art, and the art got me!”

Dalton smiles and nods. “I guess you’re just that girl.”

[hysteric-machine]

Spoilers for the new Reverse 1999 chapters

TW Psychophobia, Torture, Intergenerational trauma?, Suicide Attempts...

Now started playing the new story chapters of Reverse 1999. And while I KNEW what I was going to go through, the instant I saw Isolde tied up on the electric chair... I reminded.

I reminded what it did to me as a mentally ill kid to play Alice Madness Returns. What it did to me when I watched Penny Dreadful as a young adult. So I paused. To talk about it.

I am one of the lucky ones. I never had go to a psychiatric ward (my parents tried to get me there after my first suicide attempt, but it was an adult only service, and as a 16 years old I wasn't old enough to enter, luckily my mom was there to attend to me all summer since she worked from home).

I did suffer the stigma, in many ways, but I did not suffer the medical abuse to a no return point extent. Of course the abuse in general is still terrible, but I got lucky. Some friends did not. Someone you know surely got through that. Everyone knows someone broken by psychiatric institutions. And a lot of these unlucky individuals did not recover, and sometimes died from this abuse.

We can argue that it's much better now, that there isn't torture anymore (that's a lie, getting tied down is torture, getting isolated is torture, and I won't start talking about how close to prisons psychiatric wards are, and yes I hate the reality of prisons too).

We can argue about all of this.

But we are still counting our dead. Mourning people that were not helped, not cured, but drowned even further into despair and left in shreds.

And my body knows, when I watch these pieces of fiction, when I read the history of how our condition were "studied", how the DSM got written. I feel an overwhelming and unspeakable fear. Because I know, it's me on the screen. It's my story. It could've been my exact story.

It has been the story of many unluckiest, unprivileged people (at this point I have to mention that of course, it is not just pure luck : if you aren't white, if you're lgbtq+, if a woman, you're particularly poor, if you're from a pious family, if you have commorbidities and many more can add to the list, it's going to be harder and you are the first ones on the list).

I can't ease this feeling. It's like a survival instinct. You know you don't want to ever have to go there. Even if "it can be fine sometimes", "there are some safe wards" or whatever. If you are mentally ill you just know.

So a kind reminder : always consider this when dealing with someone close to you that have mental health issues and seems to not be able to get the help they need, or sometimes are in emergency state. Please don't call the cops. Don't call the emergency services. Please don't get them to a psychiatric ward first without trying everything else, especially if they aren't ok with going there. It is, in and of itself a traumatic experience to live, and even the less abusive institution ARE abusive because psychiatry's history is what it is. It's not because some privileged people got out of there unharmed (and again I can't agree with that) that everyone would.

Anyway, it's all over the place, I can't find a good way to word this, because there is no good way to word that I'm terrified by all that shit, with reason.

Take care of yourself, of your loved ones. You can't change the world, and it is designed in a way that we still have very few alternatives to psychiatry nowadays, so you can't really avoid it all together. Just know that it's not only fiction and incredibly triggering for some of us.

Cheers. If you can relate and wish to read the new Reverse content maybe take your time to be ready, not alone, in a good mindset.

[thehordereigns-blog]

"Game start- Won’t you do the same for us?"

Casey x The Horde (Dennis, Patricia, Hedwig)- Alternative scene of Glass

(since I saw Glass again, I want to honor the very moving duo, the very beautiful dynamic between Casey and the Horde in the film. I am sorry for my English, which is still academic but poorly developed.)

The scene takes place during the events of Glass, in a completely parallel reality here, since we will say that Casey lives alone, in a small apartment that her guardians (now adoptive) have rented to her during her studies, close to their home. She receives an unexpected visit.

Casey is working on the table in her tiny living room, sunny with bay windows. She is concentrated, headset on her ears, her hair caressing her face (beautiful, normal it's Anya Taylor-Joy :) ). Suddenly the doorbell rang. Casey almost jumps, thinks she hears someone. A loud, precise knock on the door. She takes off her headset and walks slowly towards the door, and slows down when she hears a couple of little knocks, as if made jokingly by a child. She hears a chuckle, then an adult reprimand. She looks in the Judas, it's him . It's the Horde whispering low. In her startle, her heartbeat quickened: a thousand questions crossed her mind. She opened the door slowly, revealing Dennis' tight face, eager to greet her first.

-Dennis?

-It takes a long time to explain...

-Are you alone?

-Yeah, if I may say so.

She looks on both sides of the landing, afraid that someone will hear the whispers of the man so sought to put him back in jail again and now forever. She approached him and gestured for him to come inside; he entered abruptly and closed the door.

-Damn Dennis...

She hugged him with a distance, afraid of being separated, but in a kind of deep friendship in their mutual suffering and wounds. Dennis held her in his arms and looked away.

-Me too Casey, enough. Yeah.

He sighed. "It's very clean in here." She looks him in the eye, his beautiful blue eyes puffy with anxiety.

-you haven't changed you know.

He smiles. He plays the game.

-Someone else wants to say hello, you know.

Casey's face remains stunned seeing Kevin's face light up. She understood from the frantic movements of his arms that she was seeing an old friend, an old playmate.

-Casey!! My girl !! Ya home sooo cool , you're an adult now!! you see, we wear the same color like real lovers! Pointing out her pink sweater that matched his sweater. Do you have your own room ?? Is the TV yours??

He was running towards the sofa, lifting all the cushions, like a small tornado. He disturbs all the classes placed, and notices the headset and grabs it.

- Wow class!! What were you listening to?? Nicki?? If you're on her side, we can't be together, but I accept it..

She smiled as she tried to approach him.

  -Hedwig, I need to talk to...

- Did you cook? It smells so good! In the hospital it was old porridge, yucky..worse than the time Jade tried to make meat, it was horrible..it looked like jam.

She picked up the headset, her lessons, and the sofa cushions. She heard a silence and turned around.

-Like I was telling you, Casey, there's been a problem at the hospital. Mr Glass got us out, and reading the reports, gave us the address where we could found you without any trouble. He was not mistaken.

-It’s completely insane!! But you ran away?? But what's your problem, you all want to be killed?

-you don’t unders-

- WHAT THE FU-

- Gently girl!

Her air of a schoolteacher, clapping the students fingers, she recognizes the priestess.

-Be polite, you knew where you were going from the start after visiting us. Staple couldn't believe it, you have to see the face of this ill-fated little bitch.

- Patricia, you let Kevin out of the hospital, it’s completely unconscious.. think of Kevin!

- We have the situation under control, my dear.

- Oh you do ?

For the love of Kevin, she was ready to defy the world if necessary.

- For now, we'll have to hide, my dear, because we're on the run. We'll find a solution by then, and the Beast will thank you.

- I don't need to be thanked! You are all going to be killed with your nonsense!

Patricia, as usual, looked determined by whatever the Beast dictated to her. She knew how to lead and wanted to remain master of everything and of herself. As a priestess, she must not show a sign of weakness, nor a wavering of her faith. Hedwig, he, as a player, laughed at this completely crazy situation.

- Eh LOL !! Before it was us who hide you and now won’t you do the same for us? How dare you, you’re so mean ha ha ha !!

She smiled and giggled at this incredible situation. Anyway, her life and Kevin’s life were tied forever together now. What was she going to do? Leave Kevin to all those who lost him by wanting to protect him, brood him? Leave the child, leave the Horde, let the Beast lead to the inevitable fall of the group? “Fuck, shit…” whispered Casey. (Patricia creaked inside) She sighed, looked behind her, took a deep breath. 

Dennis and Casey looked at each other. Dennis, who crossed his arms, hoped in her eyes. He had become tender and sincere on several occasions. He had already shown his respect for this girl, this very special girl..

Both were surprised by the ringing of the pasta timer. She dodged Dennis who stood at the kitchen door. She dripped the pasta, with her empty gaze, lost in reflexions. Dennis was desperate for an answer in her panicked air. Until she grabbed two plates, and exclaimed:

- how many plates do I serve you? One or twenty-three ?

And in Kevin’s smile, she saw that of Patricia, that of Dennis, that of Hedwig and all those who approved of the joke.

TO BE CONTINUED :)

--------

for those who held on and read to the end, thank you very, very much. I really really appreciate talking about these two, without explicitly talking about Love, but a bond of deep respect and mutual recognition bonding them. Let me know your opinion on this hehe 😃

[yuseirra]

It's been so long since I read the series... but I suddenly remembered about "Abide in the Wind" so I read the last few chapters and I'm getting enormous flashbacks, that was such a memorable piece and it still looks as beautiful as I remember-

spoilers for the ENTIRE PIECE AND PLOTLINE: So, a godly figure(dragon) falls in love with a human being. But she's so selfless and always gives up on her being and dies in every timeline. He couldn't bear to accept that, so he tries to bring forth a reality where she lives to be the truth but that is never possible, and he grows flawed and insane in the process. He starts to bring misery through collecting souls to replenish his energy to reattempt on rewriting the timelines, and the world starts getting destroyed. The entire world wants him gone, the flawed god and disaster that he's become.

The girl he loved and wished to bring back comes to recognize this in one timeline she's come across, and she's chosen as the successor, to become the next dragon(godly being) that should kill and replace him. But then she decides that she... despite her very selfless nature, started to have a single want. She wants him too.

So she decides to give up her past, present and future as a god to bring him back, and the laws of that world gets rewritten, she saves him and they get to be together with everything that's happened... becoming a past that lasts only as an alternate reality. Everyone lives happily in a rewritten world she brought, she forgets that she was once a god but he remembers

I... haha.. I'm getting really REALLY similar vibes with them in regard to hikaai rn I am not sure if this is a good comparison but,

That godly being started out very empty and prone to change. He was so pure and innocent, unknowing of everything, and that girl he fell in love with became the single thing he wanted. He was like a blank piece of paper. He actually ruined her life unintentionally by entering it, because her life was so peaceful before he came along and everything started spiraling into madness after he did... but she never really blamed him for it.

Anyhow, that girl doesn't respect her own life while she immensely cares for other beings. She kept dying because she disregarded herself. He realized it'd happen in every timeline, so in desperation and despair, he started trying to change fate- in which ultimately resulted in destroying himself to the core. As far as becoming a natural disaster.

What he goes through really feels similar to what Hikaru's going through after Ai's death, the difference is that... Abide in the Wind is pure fantasy. The dragon, he actively tries to collect souls to use as a source of power to reverse his beloved death and hundreds of thousands fall into misery in the process, the whole world starts collapsing into havoc.. well, what Hikaru may be kind of similar in essence you know. He started out to be this really, sweet and kindred soul but he utterly starts breaking down into insanity after the only person he loved winds up dead (and he believes that's his fault too;). He can't bear the fact that she doesn't exist anymore, so he starts coming up with some sort of reasoning to bring her closer to him (I am not sure if he thought that up on his own because it's so bizarre) and if what the songs are implying are accurate of what he's been doing, he's actually BEEN collecting some sort of "light"; I think that may have to do with people with the star eyes. So.. yeah. He could've been making some sort of sacrifices out of desperation too(goodness...) If he were to be a god.. -_- I wonder if he could have done the same thing to bring Ai back?; I wonder... he used to be so soft though!!!!! I wouldn't have cared about him this much if he wasn't like that, he's just.. broken apart...;

well, the dragon got saved. His beloved came to save him and give him back his life.

Idk about Kamiki. But I see how these sorts of stories.. never fail to get me intrigued.

wanting to reverse fate/being unable to accept loss and wishing the dead back, that's a theme that's explored a lot in fiction. It can't happen in real life, but like what they say in the piece itself as it begins, onk IS fiction.

What I can sense is that the character is suffering so bad and he's been so alone!!;; The songs and the plotline keep screaming that to me so it really bothers me, it just keeps grabbing my attention because this was a character that didn't deserve what's happened to him. Maybe he does now, but it's just horrible to be a witness of the types of emotional pains he's been going through, with it never being properly tended to even once. I don't even know if we're supposed to/ allowed to pity him because everything is still vague, so is he responsible for harming Ai or not, I am 99.9% positive he ISN'T, but the manga still just doesn't tell us that in a solid sense and leaves us hanging right, so it's so frustrating to wait. I'm sure they want to do something about this character and that's why it's been saved till last, but they better make it good and satisfying enough. I'm not asking for so much, I'm not even sure if he can be "saved" in a proper sense because he already lost the one single thing he loved more than his life. I just; want him to be addressed and explained properly, this guy has himself a story, but he never gets to tell his own tale. Because Aqua hates him and decides he must die. Everyone besides Ai doesn't want him. Not a single soul helped him when he needed it as a child except Ai, that's so unfair because he was a good one. It's just.. not a happy thing to watch. He can rot in hell if he deserves it??? But I want to know what happened!! They'll show it to us. It's just that I'm not in the future yet so I can't make anything out of it in the present. I actually have an idea where this will eventually head, I just don't have the patience because I feel things. They talk about pain and when that happens, you can't help but being stressed, right!

The final chapters of Abide in the Wind was beautiful, it's very colorful and memorable, and the writing for it was exemplar and poetic!! I definitely can say that's one of the pieces that influenced me as an artist... If you like stories where characters who share a bond eventually end up saving each other's fate, it may be worth a read! Reana is still one of my fav female protagonists, she's...so selfless. And that ties very strongly with how things play out in the story, it's why she was chosen in more ways than one.

[prin-does-art]

Hi so the first chapter of this fic (which is the first one I've ever decided to post) is already on ao3, but I figured since I'm posting the second one I might as well post it here for those who don't wanna read it on ao3! Enjoy!

Title: One And The Opposite

Rating: Teens and Up (swearing, mentions of sex)

Summary: After filling the shoes of his alternate self in a parallel universe, Miguel O'Hara swiftly discovers that embodying a different version of himself is far more challenging than he initially anticipated. As he juggles with the complexities of family dynamics, with a wife and daughter who both expect him to be the man they remember, he tries to stay afloat, grappling with the pros and cons of navigating two lives simultaneously.

OR

A domestic Miguel trying his best.

Chapter 1: A new earth

Getting there was definitely the easy part.

Miguel, having now crossed the portal, found himself in a version of his own universe that felt both eerily familiar and distinctly different at the same time. The air crackled with an energy unique to this reality, and the surroundings hinted at subtle variations from the world he knew. 

The place smelled like blood, car fumes, and rain.

All there was left to do now was dispose of the body, which he quickly and painlessly did by sending it to a post apocalyptic earth where humans didn’t exist anymore, but not before searching him for all his belongings, and taking a last look at the dead stranger with his face who laid motionless on the floor.

Once that was done, he carefully examined the possessions he had salvaged. All of them served as a reminder of the life his alternate self had left behind, which he now would be occupying. 

A wallet with a photo of his daughter, a couple credit cards and all his documents. No money, which could suggest that currency might differ in this version of reality, a detail he filed away for later consideration. A set of keys with a keychain of a child’s drawing encased in clear resin, to protect it. 

It resonated with a heartfelt sentiment: He couldn't help but think about the child who had created that drawing. Her life, her experiences and her dreams so far. Briella.

And last but not least, His wedding ring, which thankfully fit him snugly. Commitment.

A tangible connection to his past and a reminder of the choices he had made. Miguel contemplated, for the nth time that day, the significance of his decision to enter this reality, wondering if it really offered a true escape, or a mere variation of the challenges he planned on leaving behind.

As Miguel began to scan his surroundings, he noticed subtle differences in the architecture, technology, and even the people bustling about outside the alley. Their clothes looked different from other earths, but not completely unlike his own to the point where he couldn’t blend in if he wanted to. 

He was used to crossing multiple universes on a daily basis. What he wasn’t used to, however, was having to accept the fact that he would be actively living in this one.

He also couldn't ignore the extremely likely possibility that his alternate self might have faced different challenges in the past, family or no family. And this knowledge only added layers of complexity to his quest for a fresh start.

Armed only with his memories, belongings, and the unique perspective of being himself in this alternate universe, he ventured forth into the unknown. The portal behind him closed, severing the connection to his original earth for good. 

Miguel embraced the uncertainty, a deep inhaling of this air bringing about a new kind of determination previously unknown to him.

And so, for the very first time, he grabbed his keys and went home.

Read it on ao3

[bridenore]

Author rec : magpiefngrl

Magpiefngrl is one of my favorite authors. Here are a few recs, listed in alphabetical order.

9 ½ Days by @magpiefngrl [21k]

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail.  This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside  caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

The Boy Who Died by @magpiefngrl [26k]

Harry dies in the forest. Sixteen years later, he comes back to life.

The Death You Carry by @magpiefngrl [2k]

You’ll do nothing the first time it happens. Just came over all faint, you’ll say. Long day, you’ll insist.

dirtynumbangelboy by @magpiefngrl [39k]

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

The Full Monty by @magpiefngrl [9k]

Harry poses for a naked Auror calendar and Draco goes batshit crazy with lust.

Hush, darling by @magpiefngrl [23k]

Draco is in trouble. To get out of it he needs to seduce Harry Potter.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by @magpiefngrl [23k]

Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.

Through the Looking Glass and What Draco Found There by @magpiefngrl [17k]

Draco discovers the Mirror of Erised is a portal and he enters an alternate reality where your deepest  desires come true.

Or how Draco found himself in the world of his dreams and Potter had to come and ruin it.

The Unquiet Grave by @magpiefngrl [21k]

When Malfoy’s life is threatened, Harry agrees to work as his bodyguard. Given their recent history, that might be a mistake.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[lavendersartistry]

Mask or Not

Space Riders AU - @onyxonline Eve Ewe - @lavendersartistry Gilded - @qxurugosk

This fic is for onyxonline's Space Riders AU, this time with a alternate reality in the mix! This fic is mainly centered around Quru's cultist OC Gilded and my OC, Eve Ewe! Please check Onyx and Quru out, their work is super cool!

Do note that this is non-canon to Eve's story in Space Riders, a "what-if" timeline! Want more context? Here! Want more context of Gilded's mask? Here and Here!

The sounds of glass breaking and yells echoed as Eve calmly walked to Gilded's chambers, a dark veil covering her face. It was reported to her that someone took their mask without their knowledge and later made a ruckus when they found the culprit.

Eve quietly knocked, alerting Gilded. They knew who it was but didn't say a word at first. Eve spoke up instead.

"Until your mask is retrieved, I have a veil for you to use instead. I understand it will not do much but at least it will do what it can."

Eve opened the door and quickly placed the veil near their desk by the door and closed it again.

Once Eve was out of earshot, Gilded put the culprit down and walked to their desk. They looked at the veil, touching the soft texture and fabric. They glanced back and scowled.

"Find my mask by nightfall. Or you won't see another sunrise."

-------------------

By sunset, Eve quietly entered her palace gardens. Instead of the noting Astral Jellyfish, owls of all kinds rested in every tree. She grimaced at the sight. Her mother adored owls like they were her only friends when it came to the council.

Eve sat under a willow tree, and a little owl flew down next to her. A soft 'hoo' escaped its beak as it looked up at the saddened queen. Eve gently petted its head as tears began to roll down her face.

"I did not take my queen to be a fan of birds. Quite the surprise."

Eve turned her head, eyes meeting the familiar that covered Gilded's face. She looked back down at the owl.

"Your mask was returned, that's good."

"You're avoiding my statement."

Eve went silent, hands close together. She looked down, and a shaky sigh escaped her lips.

"Owls was my mother's favorite... before..."

The queen choked back a sob, trying not to seem weak. She couldn't look weak, not in front of them. She was mighty, powerful. But how long could she stay that way, under that mask of perfection?

Gilded stepped closer, kneeling down before her. It was a first to see her break and crumble. But they knew why, the black gown and the veil were clear.

Eve's mother would turn 5800 today.

The masked cultist wiped away her tears and held her hand.

"It is normal for the mask of a queen to break. The world was cruel to you. But do not let it hold you down to the riverside. You will avenge your loss and rise as the queen you are."

Gilded tilted Eve's head, her ocean eyes still full of tears.

"Mask or not, you are my queen. You are unstoppable and you are spectacular. And I will be at your side as long as I live."

[scribblestatic]

I've been on my Sonic the Hedgehog brainrot since I was a kid, and it's not stopping anytime soon, so how about I write an AU where Sonic is actually Maria reincarnated just because I think that's fun?

Because Shadow kinda forgot that she was a person. Don't get me wrong—he remembers her lovingly, but perhaps due to time or perhaps from Prof. Robotnik messing with his memories, he remembers Maria as a beautiful, healthy-looking girl who spoke with kindness and peace. A balm on his hurt and pain for not being able to heal her despite being the ultimate lifeform.

In reality, Maria was a person. Someone with flaws. Someone more than sad softness and peaceful smiles.

Maria was angry. She was in pain. Her skin was pale, not from some sort of natural beauty, but from illness. She had dark circles under her eyes. She had the Robotnik nose and wore glasses to help with her eyesight on days it went blurry (never quite as 'pretty' as the pictures of Prof. Robotnik's late wife). She didn't wear them all the time, but she wore them more than Shadow's memory would allow.

Her fury came out in her words, full of snark and bite, and she'd use her intelligence to dig in deep. And she'd just as deeply apologize when she went too far, knowing her pain wasn't an excuse to be cruel.

She liked pigs in a blanket when she had her cheat days. She liked fiddling with Shadow's air shoes and improving them, glasses on to protect her sensitive eyes. She wanted to enter the bio-zone of the ARK, but was staunchly prevented from doing so, unable to sit in the flowers and greenery she saw within.

She was jealous of Shadow. Of his speed, power, might. Of his health. But she cared for him more than she was jealous, because she truly did love him.

She wasn't always right with some of the things she said or did, but she did her best to do what she thought was right. She sometimes fussed despite alternative solutions being logically better. She hid her pain as much as possible, not wanting to be seen as weak anymore. She hated being around other people for very long because they'd always look at her with pity. She wanted to be sociable, to be strong.

She'd give up her intellect if it meant she could touch grass even once.

She wanted, desperately, to go to Earth. And she died, sacrificing herself to save Shadow, with no regrets. Though she never stood on Earth, the fact Shadow would make it there was more than good enough for her.

And she died.

Years later, Sonic was born.

He grew up on his own for the most part, his parents mere fuzzy silhouettes in his memory. Even so, Sonic was fine with that. He could adapt to anything. His high amounts of Chaos energy helped him immensely.

His favorite food for a long was anything to do with sausages, though that evolved further once he was introduced to chili dogs. In his free time, which is often, he loves rolling in flowers and laying out in the quiet, simply enjoying the Earth and the soft thrumming of the energy around him.

Since he didn't grow up with a formal education, he's not the most book smart. Even so, with some learning from the locals, he knew enough to build and fly a plane all on his own despite being a kid. Still, he found he enjoyed spending more time moving around. Being a bookworm was good and all, he just preferred the joy and rush of adrenaline that came with running.

Because he's fast. He's so fast.

He always knows which direction he's facing and knows, to the centimeter, how far he as to run to get from one place to another. He remembers each place he's been and learns extremely detailed information about every location. He finds hidden routes and has quick reflexes to navigate around anywhere. He adapts to just about anything with ease.

That's how he adapts to Tails following him around, to being his big brother and dad at the same time. That's how he adapts to fighting off Eggman and his robots, crushing them with ease and power, feeling the thrill of it. That's how he adapts to speaking with others once he finds his voice, being snarky and prideful but just as easygoing.

He's adapted to a lot over the years. To getting to know Amy and Knuckles and the others he's grown to care for and love. To growing further into his powers and becoming even stronger. To fighting and befriending people from every walk of life. To seeing robots as their own beings and teaming up with the ones that are able to excel beyond their programming. To his playful friendship with Rouge, joking around with dramatics; to his vague understanding with Omega, who he doesn't mind helping; to his rivalry with Shadow, who produces so many different feelings in him, some that he's never felt before, others that he's felt forever.

The one thing he hasn't quite adapted to, though, is the strange little visions he saw after looking at the scrawled writing in Prof. Robotnik's cell. Flashes of something deep within pulled, briefly, to the surface. Like he's watching through the glasses he used to wear when he was very young and his fur was still brown, eyes still black.

They become more frequent, though they don't startle him, really. Sometimes, they come in dreams he only half-remembers by the time he wakes up, the thoughts almost completely fading after an hour or two. He doesn't really bother exploring it, not right now, anyway.

I'll continue this at some point, I think.

[s0xthef0x]

Theoretically Speaking

Ness accidentally stumbles into the life of Mike Schmidt, and in all honesty? He doesn't mind staying.

When a trip to the mall goes awry, Ness finds himself injured and in the arms of a security guard. With no friends or family to turn to during his recovery, Mike Schmidt enters the picture to lend a hand.

(Split/Alternating POVs)

SEE MASTER POST

CHAPTER 1

NOTE: This is a revised version of a securitywaiter fic I just completed on a03 (under the same username) so if you don't want to wait for revised updates here, you can read the original through the link at the end! Enjoy <3

Also this fic started out as a joke but I got really into it and it's lowkey my magnum opus

Chapter 1

NESS

Ness never would’ve imagined that things would've played out the way that they did, especially not at the mall. It was only meant to be a short trip, but the line at Macy's was much longer than he had anticipated. Especially for mid-morning on a weekday. As he stood in line, Ness couldn't help but think; don't any of you have jobs? Because he was going to be late for his own if the line didn't move any faster.

Ness was eager to get out of the store and far away from the clashing scents of perfumes and colognes. He had thought about getting a quick spray of something that smelled of sandalwood in hopes of covering the smell of bacon grease that seemed to perpetually linger on his uniform, but the store itself did a thorough job of making him smell like anything and everything on earth other than a diner- which wasn't exactly ideal either.

He absentmindedly swung the plastic Macy's bag in his hand as he walked out of the store. Ness felt his mind turn to static as he tuned out the people around him. It was the kind of mental numbness in which you can't stop your thoughts from wandering off wherever they want, until suddenly you're thinking about the kind of stuff that you normally dwell on at night. There was no repressing any of it now, and it sure as shit didn't help that he was surrounded by advertisements for Mother's Day sales. 

Ness didn't expect a bottle of low-end perfume to magically resolve anything, but maybe it was worthwhile enough to at least remind her that she had a son.

His head felt foggy. Everything had become blurry, and all noises were muffled. It was just him and his thoughts, which was why he didn't immediately realize what was happening. Ness's brain tuned back into reality when he was abruptly shoved from behind. He barely managed to gather himself before several more people rushed by. They moved in packs. It was a stampede.

Ness stumbled forward while scanning the crowd, in search of anyone who could explain what the hell was going on. He was drowning in a sea of pure chaos, and he could barely keep his head above the water. From the other side of the mall, Ness could see police officers rushing into a store, urging everyone to make for the exit.

People were pouring out from escalators and onto the first floor. Ness stumbled along with the crowd, all while behind jostled by the shoulders and feeling a pair of sneakers repeatedly stepping on the backs of his ankles.

Near the back of the second floor, three officers were restraining a man in a mask as they wrestled a gun out of his hands. Telling by the man's distance from Macy's, Ness was certain that he had been walking merely a couple of feet within his proximity. He felt a chill rush down his spine.

Ness had been so distracted from the chaos, he hadn't yet processed that he was falling. His foot had missed a step as he was nearing the end of the escalator. The crowd parted to make room in order to move past him, but no one made an effort to help him up. Ness clawed at the floor, pulling himself out of the way before he could be trampled. He leaned against a wall as he tried to catch his breath. His vision went blurry again, this time from a surge of adrenaline.

Once the rush of the crowd had dwindled, Ness began to push himself up. He immediately felt a terrible pain in his lower leg. He didn't want to look down. He felt sick as his brain conjured the image of his leg looking mangled and twisted like one of the pretzel sticks in the display at the Auntie Anne's just a few feet from where he laid. The only thing anchoring him to consciousness was the scent of daisy perfume as the last few drops leaked from the broken bottle. He laid back down against the wall and groaned. He looked to the other side of the mall, where the last of the officers were questioning a few witnesses. 

Ness was tucked away behind a large, plastic plant, blocking him from everyone else's view. He cursed under his breath and gripped onto the side of the escalator to try to lift himself onto his uninjured foot, though it seemed to be in vain. The pain was too much. He lowered himself down, groaning again as he fell back onto the hard tiled floor.

Ness looked to his left at the sound of the men's bathroom door swinging open, revealing a security guard. The man tucked something into his jacket, probably a pack of cigarettes from a not-so discreet smoke break in the midst of the chaos. As he stepped into the open, his face formed a rather clear "oh shit" kind of expression. 

The security guard began to walk towards the remaining police officers. Seizing the opportunity, Ness frantically threw a hand in the air to signal for help. The man stopped in his tracks and turned his gaze to where Ness sat.

"Are you okay?" The guard stayed standing at a distance, probably hoping that his assistance wouldn’t be necessary. Ness wouldn't have blamed him.

The pain made it difficult to form a full thought, let alone a full sentence. Ness didn't know how else to communicate other than gesturing down to his injury, which was getting harder to not look at. The security guard took a step, made another "oh shit" face, then hurried over.

Ness had a habit of slipping into his customer service voice upon interacting with strangers, and this time was no exception as he forced himself to speak up, “can you call nine one one?"

It took a moment of stunned silence for the security guard to react. "Yeah, yeah.” His voice was borderline monotone, which didn't match the sudden flash of urgency in his eyes. Ness stared after the guard as he ran to a door marked STAFF ONLY.

All he could do was lay there looking up at the ceiling. There were a few remaining customers wandering around the first floor, none of which noticed Ness laying there, like a crumpled up napkin that didn’t make it into the trash bin. He was once again alone with his thoughts, but this time he was painfully aware of his reality, literally speaking.

The worst part of it was knowing that if it hadn't been for a random security guard, there would be no one to call for help. The smell of the Daisy perfume served as a strangely cruel reminder. 

He thought he'd be used to it by now. He began to wonder if he ever would.

MIKE

Mike had witnessed his fair share of wild shit during his time working at the mall, but this morning had managed to beat a new record. It wasn't even noon yet.

Mike never had to call 911 before. It was daunting to dial just those three digits. He leaned against the cinderblock wall of the break room and waited. For an emergency line, it was taking a surprisingly long time for someone to pick up. At least it bought him a little time to think of what to say. Hey, some guy broke his leg, I think?

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

Since the station had already gotten the report about the active shooter, it didn’t take long to explain. Mike relayed the location and address of the mall, and that was that. He hung up the phone and heaved a sigh. 

The break room was empty, except for him. He was tempted to take a seat in one of the folding chairs, but decided against it. He was probably already on thin ice if there was any chance that his manager noticed his absence in the past forty five minutes, the time he spent reading in the bathroom when he should've been doing his job.

Mike’s approach towards work had always been to simply match his performance to his paycheck. You know what they say, you get what you paid for. Today was the only exception to his usual mentality. This wasn't just another kid throwing up outside of the candy shoppe, or another man having a heart attack in the food court. For once, Mike felt guilty for not doing the bare minimum.

Mike exited the break room and looked toward the escalator. Sure enough, the man was still there. It's not like he could've left that easily. 

"How are you holding up?" He hoped his question came out sounding more genuine than it did in his head, but the man didn't seem to care, and for obvious reasons.

The man barely glanced at Mike when he replied, "fine.”

"The paramedics are on the way."

"Great."

It probably wasn't a good sign that he was only responding with one syllable at a time. Mike looked around in search of anyone who could possibly be more qualified to deal with this. He wasn't paying attention when the man said something. Mike turned his head and looked at him with a lifted brow. "Hm?

"The bench.” The man’s hand trembled as he pointed to a set of benches near the bathroom, not too far from where Mike stood. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed or just tired, but it was probably both.

Mike, once again, looked around for anyone else who would be willing to step in. Did he feel like kind of an asshole for not wanting to bridal carry a stranger? Yes. But in his defense, it was clear that the stranger wasn't entirely keen on the idea either. Lucky for him, guilt quickly outweighed Mike's pride.

He wanted to move quickly to get it over with, but sooner realized that sudden movements weren't the best idea for dealing with a broken limb. The man had to wrap both arms around Mike's shoulders to steady himself until he made it safely to the bench. 

Mike crossed his arms and took his time to scan his surroundings, avoiding unnecessary eye contact. His job didn't normally require that much interaction with customers. The only times he spoke to anyone other than his co-workers was when someone needed directions to a store or the restrooms. All he could think to say was, "better?"

"Beats the floor.” The stranger wasn't doing a great job at selling his fake smile. It didn't help that he was still struggling to speak in full sentences without gritting his teeth.

They remained silent amidst the echoes of footsteps. Even during a public emergency, the speakers continued to play the same pop songs on a loop, all the same earworms that had been stuck in Mike’s head for months. He didn't go out of his way to listen to music other than what he was subjected to via public radio. He felt indifferent to most of it, despite his tendency to subconsciously hum Avril Lavigne in the shower.

"Shit."

Mike's attention snapped back to the stranger. The man was suddenly more alert. His arms frantically reached around the bench.

"Are you looking for something?"

The man rubbed a hand across his face and muttered something into his palm before speaking up, "it's nothing- it's just. . . I dropped my bag.”

Mike looked to the escalator, and a stray Macy’s shopping bag. "That?"

The stranger nodded as Mike lifted it from the ground. He could hear the faint clinking of broken glass. He looked further down to find that his shoe was in the center of a pinkish-orange puddle. A flowery smell filled his nostrils like a punch to the face. Mike dropped the bag into the trash and made a mental note to mop it up later. 

"Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it.” The stranger leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

Mike’s thoughts were cut short by the high-pitched wail of an ambulance. Outside, two paramedics were already on foot with a stretcher before the ambulance had come to a full stop. Mike took a brief glance at the stranger before leaving to meet the paramedics.

"We got a call about a broken leg?" 

Mike nodded and pointed over his shoulder at the bench. “That way."

And with that, it was out of his hands. Mike stood by the water fountain, watching as they escorted the stranger towards the exit. He wondered if he should've waved or forced a sympathetic smile, but it didn’t matter. The stranger had been safely transported into the ambulance, which was already racing off, out of the parking lot and into the distance. 

The pop music somehow sounded louder now, as did the echoing footsteps of the few customers that roamed the building. No more horrified screams or running footsteps, just distant laughing and sounds from the nearby arcade. It was as if nothing had happened, like today was just any other ordinary day at the mall. And like any ordinary day, Mike had work to do.

NESS

Hospitals brought on a strange sense of nostalgia. Even years after his last visit, Ness was still accustomed to the smell of clorox wipes and latex. The atmosphere was by no means comforting, but familiarity prevented him from completely spiraling.

Despite the heavy doses of medication to alleviate the pain, Ness still couldn't sleep. Fatigue held him in a firm grasp, but there was too much on his mind to give in. There were too many things to worry about. For one, his manager. Calling to explain why exactly he missed his shift was a nightmare waiting to happen. Breaking a leg in a freak accident at the mall hardly sounded any different than “my dog ate my homework”.

"Mr. Sansfield?” 

The sound of the door pulled Ness out of his state of half-sleep. He lifted his head to greet the nurse with a half-hearted smile. 

"You have a guest."

The nurse stepped aside to reveal a complete stranger. Ness squinted. He blinked twice, wondering if maybe the drowsiness was affecting his vision. The stranger stepped inside and the nurse left without another word. Ness sat up. He wanted to protest, or call out to the nurse to clarify that he had no idea who this person was. For all he knew, he had just been left alone at the mercy of a serial killer.

"Hey.” His voice instantly sounded familiar. It took Ness another moment of staring blankly until he recognized the uniform shirt, then the Macy's bag.

"What. . .uh," Ness's voice came out in a mumble until he cleared his throat. "What're you doing here?"

"I figured you might want this back." The stranger lifted the bag. 

"Oh, that," Ness shook his head, "it broke when-“ He stopped when the man reached into the bag to reveal a perfectly intact bottle of perfume, still in its packaging. "I could've sworn-"

"I got it exchanged.” The man took a seat in a chair near the foot of the bed. "I gave them the receipt and told them what happened."

Ness wanted to smile or show some sort of display of gratitude, but he was still overcome by pure amazement. "You really didn't have to do that."

The man shrugged. He sniffed and stared absentmindedly around the room. 

"Well. . . thanks. . .” Ness trailed off, raising his eyebrows, waiting for the stranger to pick up on the implied question. When he didn’t get an answer, Ness finally took the initiative. “What’s your name?”

It took the man a second to realize he was being spoken to. He barely turned his head enough to make eye contact, as though the effort was too much of a hassle. “Mike.”

"Thanks, Mike." Finally, Ness managed to smile. "I'm Ness, by the way."

“I know.”

Ness’s eyebrows furrowed at the response. Before he could ask, Mike nodded at the clothes in the chair beside him, where his name tag was lying face-up.

The corners of Mike’s mouth lifted slightly into a somewhat passable smile, while his eyes remained stony. His stoic expression made it all seem less like a selfless gesture and more like a chore. 

Ness's smile wavered. He cleared his throat and waited for Mike to leave wordlessly, the same way he entered. Probably slamming the door on his way out. Instead, Mike sank a little deeper into his seat in the same manner as a middle-aged man preparing to take a nap in his prized recliner. 

"Question," Ness spoke up again after a moment of silence, "how did you get in here?"

"Hm?"

"How did you get in here? Isn't there a policy-“ His question was cut short by the opening of the door. The doctor stepped in, with a clipboard in hand and a stethoscope dangling at the neck. Mike sat up in his seat, posture suddenly straight as a pole.

"How are we holding up?" the doctor asked with the click of a ballpoint pen.

Ness answered with a half-nod, half-shrug. "Could be worse."

The doctor nodded and scribbled on the clipboard. "On the bright side, you're free to head home now. You can rest in the comfort of your own bed."

"Right," Ness said with a weary exhale.

"I'm assuming Mr. Sansfield will be your ride?"

Ness felt his brows knitting together in confusion, and even more so when the doctor gestured with the pen, pointing towards Mike, who was now sinking deeper into his chair, gripping onto the armrests like a passenger preparing to endure turbulence. To Ness's surprise, he nodded.

"In that case, it looks like everything's settled." The doctor handed the clipboard to Ness. "Just sign here at the bottom and you're free to go."

Ness, in a daze, took the pen and scribbled his signature as a single, wavy line. The doctor was gone in the instant that the pen left the clipboard.

“Mr. Sansfield?"

Mike's eyes widened slightly as his face suddenly revealed a new emotion, a cross between panicked and defensive. “They asked if I was spouse or family.”

Seeing the flustered expression spreading on Mike’s face, Ness quickly jumped in to do some damage control, though it might've already been too late depending on whether or not Mike could see the redness in his face. "I didn't know I had a brother."

Mike chuckled under his breath. His eyes flitted to the door, glancing out the narrow window. "You don't think I'll get in trouble, do you?"

"You should probably get out of here before you blow your cover."

Mike stood up and placed the Macy's bag in the chair, safe from being stepped on or otherwise shattered all over again. His hands dug into the pockets of his jacket. "Is there anything else?”

Ness raised his eyebrows, unable to understand the question.

Mike let out a long exhale as he gazed around the room. His head rolled back to look at Ness with bored eyes. “Do you need anything?”

"Uh. . .” Ness wanted to kick himself for even thinking about taking advantage of the offer, but he knew he was in no position to decline. "Yes, actually. I need a ride. I left my car at the mall- but, I mean, it's not like I would be able to drive it in the first place," Ness continued rattling on and on. He couldn't help it. His nerves kicked into high gear, and the words kept coming.

"Sure,” Mike's answer was as sudden as it was blunt, “No problem." 

Ness had to force his mouth shut to cut off the rest of the word vomit. He would have hesitated before gladly getting in a car with a stranger, but this was different. This technically wasn't a stranger anymore. This was Mike. Besides, even if he was a serial killer, Ness was short on options.

_____________________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER >>>

MASTER POST

If you don’t want to wait on updates of the revision on this blog, you can binge the original on Ao3 or wattpad ;)