please come back from the dead

dragonatthedinnertable  asked:

I really need to know about the mailman who delivers based on the aztec lunar calendar!!

So my family lives in the unincorporated Larimer County and for about 10 Years, our postman was Mr. Schmidt. 

Do not allow the name to fool you.

Mr. Schmidt was well over 6 feet tall, mostly gangling odd-bending limbs and had a beard that went nearly to his knees.  Our post office allegedly had a regulated delivery schedule, but Mr. Schmidt would turn up with mail according to his own personal comprehension of time, which I’m pretty sure was set to his home dimension of Qulaxon-51^778~

I’d be lying in bed at 2AM, Dog on my feet in a pitch-black room, when there would be the loud squealing of a an ancient subaru with a USPS roof ornament and a failing timing belt that never got replaced the whole decade I knew him, and my room would flood with the unholy blue led headlights he’d installed.

SCREEEEEEELELELELELELELEeeee- CHUNK.
~creeeeeek~
CRUMPLE
slam!
“GOOOOOOOD MORNING WORLD!”
sssSSCREEEEEEEELELELE-

Ah.  I would think to myself, Mr. Schmidt’s Austrian-Texan* holler still echoing in my ears. Mail’s here.

Mr. Schmidt had a difficulty in his job in that the driver’s side of the car in the US always faces the middle of the road, unless one drives into oncoming traffic.  Which means that most postal workers have to stop and hop out of their trucks to stick the mail in the box.  Mr. Schmidt was fundamentally opposed to doing things like parking, or following OSHA recommendations, so he committed some kind of automotive black magic and moved the back seat bench up to the front and angled all the pedals, so that he could drive the Subaru whilst lounging across the bench, head and arms outside the passenger window, one foot operating the pedals and the other one steering.

It was like if one of the members of ZZtop had an illegitimate child with tree-beard and he grew up to be both a hedonist roman and a postman.

Mr. Schmidt’s odd schedule and curious antics were very tolerated in my neck of the county though, becuase he could reliably deliver mail to our curiously unplottable house, and the other houses on sometimes-numbered roads that were really more sage than dirt and located halfway up a canyon.  Packages arrived well before they were due and never so much as dented, and we were somehow never afflicted with penny-savers.  Not rain nor snow nor gloom of night nor bears nor wildfire evacuations nor that one time it got down to -20 and the road was covered in three inches of ice and everyone’s tires went flat could stop his deliveries.

My family had been in the practice of mailing a fruitcake between various blood and legal relations for several years as A Practical Joke, but after an uncle burned my aunt’s house to the ground (God please make sure he’s dead) we weren’t sure Freddie Fruitcake was still with us. The aunt called us, sobbing after three weeks of holding it together in the face of the loss of her house to tell us that she hadn’t been able to find Freddie in the wreckage, and that she’d been intending to send it to us this year.  We did our best to comfort her, it’s fine, honestly the fruitcake isn’t important compared to her safety, please come for the holidays. 

She agreed and we went to collect her from the airport a few days later.  We arrived back at the house to discover that Mr. Schmidt had parked the Subaru and was standing at the front door with a small package in his hands.

“This looks important.”  he said, handing my bewildered aunt the box before nodding, folding himself back into the Subaru and driving off. Awed and wondering, we hustled inside from the snow, and studied the package.  Unfamiliar handwriting, return address from Seward, Alaska.

Inside was not Freddy, but another fruitcake of the same brand.  As far as anyone knew, we’d never spoken to Mr. Schmidt about the Great Fruitcake exchange but his relationship with reality was odd enough that I suppose that he could have been listening in.


*My best guess for the accent.  It was really more over-caffeinated goat than anything else.


(This story has been brought to you by a late-night coffe binge. If you’ve enjoyed it, please consider buying me a coffee?)

✦  (  SERIAL   KILLER   SENTENCE   PROMPTS. 

 trigger heavy :  death, murder, blood, etc.  be cautious when reading and reblogging.                     please be sure and to change any of the pronouns if need be and / or as you see fit!   

in  the  killer’s  pov  : 

  • ❝  why are you screaming? i haven’t even cut on you yet?  ❞
  • ❝  oh, don’t you cry! i’ve killed a million times before.  ❞
  • ❝  i’m going to count to ten and when i’m finished, you’ll be dead.  ❞
  • ❝  scream all you want! no one will hear you down here!!  ❞
  • ❝  wooo! yeah! scream all you want! i’ll scream with you! mighty good time, yeah!  ❞
  • ❝  what’s the pointing in kidnapping if you aren’t going to do any killing?  ❞
  • ❝  i usually like to get to know my victims a little before i kill them.  ❞
  • ❝  every killer for himself, huh? it’s a dog eat dog world, huh?  ❞
  • ❝  you know what they say, once a killer, always a killer.  ❞
  • ❝  go on and run! run as fast as you can! i love a good chase!  ❞
  • ❝  you can run but you can’t hide! i’m going to find you and kill you!  ❞
  • ❝  see, i’ve stalked you for sometime before finally snatching you up!  ❞
  • ❝  i didn’t want to kill you whenever i brought you here but now, i have no choice!  ❞
  • ❝  you may think this is a one time thing but i promise, i will kill again.  ❞
  • ❝  come out, come out! wherever you are! you can’t hide from me forever!  ❞
  • ❝  there’s no turning back now! there’s no one coming for you, except for me!  ❞

in  the  victims  pov  : 

  • ❝  please! no! please!! don’t do this to me! please! ❞
  • ❝  why are you doing this to me? please! just let me go!  ❞
  • ❝  please, if you let me go, i won’t tell anybody about this! ❞
  • ❝  this is the part where things are switched up in your routines, victim kills the killer.  ❞
  • ❝  i told you already, i don’t why he/she/they let me go! he/she/they just did.  ❞
  • ❝  sometimes i can still see their face whenever i close my eyes.  ❞
  • ❝  why kill me? you can use me as ransom? my family loves me and has money!  ❞
  • ❝  oh, god, oh no!! please someone help me! HELP ME!  ❞
  • ❝  no, this isn’t real! NO, this isn’t happening to me! no, no, no, please.  ❞
  • ❝  oh, what’s the matter? surprised to see i made it out of your little death trap?  ❞
  • ❝  you’ll never get away with this! you hear me! you’ll never get away with it!  ❞
  • ❝  you’re sick! stop laughing! stop laughing, you sick son of a bitch!  ❞
  • ❝  when i get out of here, i’m going to run but i’ll be back for you, just wait. ❞
  • ❝  what — what are you doing? what are you going to do with that?  ❞
  • ❝  please, listen to me!! you have the wrong person!  ❞
  • ❝  oh god, you’re the killer everyone has been talking about! please, don’t hurt me! ❞

in  the  killer’s  lover  pov  :

  • ❝  long night? you’re covered in blood. ❞
  • ❝  i’ve missed you, though, i was still able to see you on the news.  ❞
  • ❝  wait, you went out and killed someone? without me? ❞
  • ❝  you’re hitting the news everywhere we go, we won’t be able to run forever. ❞
  • ❝  if you never let me a part of anything, why should i let you stay here?  ❞
  • ❝  as much as i enjoy you covered in blood, let’s get you cleaned up, in the shower. ❞
  • ❝  this is the third night in a row you come home covered in blood!  ❞
  • ❝  i’m just saying, maybe we should take some time off from killing..  ❞
  • ❝  i just don’t want you out so much with the police cracking down and all.  ❞
  • ❝  please, hurry back!! i’m afraid i might not ever seen you again when you leave.  ❞
  • ❝  you can’t keep killing, at least not without me around, to protect you.  ❞
  • ❝  if we keep doing this at this rate we’ll be as dead as our victims. ❞
  • ❝  wait!! i’m not leaving! are you crazy? this is my home!  ❞
  • ❝  help me lift him/them/her,  their/she/he’s heavy!!  
  • ❝  oh, brother, we really did a number on this one. i’m not cleaning it up.  ❞
  • ❝  you’re cleaning this one up, i cleaned up the last one.  ❞
  • ❝  here, finish her/him/them off, you look better doing it, i like to watch.  ❞

in  the  town / city’s  pov  :

  • ❝  can you believe it? there’s a killer roaming about and they have yet to catch ‘em. ❞
  • ❝  do you think that this killer is working all alone?  ❞
  • ❝  how hard is it to catch a killer? ❞
  • ❝  that killer on the loose made today’s news again.  ❞
  • ❝  haven’t you heard? the media just released a serial killer on the loose. ❞
  • ❝  i don’t want you out at night with this killer roaming around.  ❞
  • ❝  i can’t believe the media withheld information about that serial killer.  ❞
  • ❝  wait, you mean you don’t know? do you not watch the news?  ❞
  • ❝  what kind of serial killer doesn’t have a specific method when killing?  ❞
  • ❝  i can’t believe i’m living in a town / city where there is a serial killer loose.  ❞
  • ❝  if they don’t catch that killer soon, i’m packing up and moving. ❞
  • ❝  why are you so paranoid and scared all of a sudden? it’s just the police.  ❞
  • ❝  ever since this killer made news, you’ve been super paranoid.  ❞
  • ❝  did you hear? they think they may have finally caught that killer.  ❞
  • ❝  this killer is still killing people each day, how is this possible?  ❞
  • ❝  i still don’t understand why people take serial killer news the wrong way, as if it’s good.  ❞ 

anonymous asked:

Any quotes which make you shudder?

GLAD YOU ASKED:


“I’m sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.”
—Richard Siken from “Little Beast

“You happened to me. You were as deep down as I’ve ever been. You were inside me like my pulse.”
—Marilyn Hacker from “Nearly a Valediction”

“I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to drink you in. I want to walk into the heart of you and never walk back out. “
—Nico Alvarado from “Tim Riggins Speaks of Waterfalls”

“Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers.”
—Margaret Atwood from “The Good Bones”

“When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life, in each place and forever.”
—Bob Hicok from “Other Lives and Dimensions and Finally a Love Poem

“When I haven’t been kissed in a long time, I create civil disturbances, then insult the cops who show up, till one of them grabs me by the collar and hurls me up against the squad car, so I can remember, at least for a moment, what it’s like to be touched.”
—Jeffrey McDaniel, "When a Man Hasn’t Been Kissed

“Kiss the mouth which tells you, here, here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.”
—Galway Kinnell from "Little Sleep’s Head Sprouting Hair in the Moonlight

“I will love you forever; whatever happens. Until I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, until I find you again.”
—Phillip Pullman from "The Amber Spyglass

“I wanted to write ‘stay’ on your sides, surround your bed with oceans of salt. I hope he folds you into a fox, loves you like a splintered arrow, brandishes the kill of your lips. May the bouquet of your hips wither. May the wolves forget your name.”
—J. Bradley

“I love you. If you hadn’t existed I would have had to invent you.”
–Elaine Dundy from “The Dud Avocado

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”
—Kiersten White

“The first time I asked you on a date, after you hung up, I held the air between our phones against my ear and whispered, ‘You will fall in love with me. Then, just months later, you will fall out. I will pretend the entire time that I don’t know it’s coming.’”
—Miles Walser

“I will come back from the dead for you.”
—Richard Siken from “You Are Jeff

“Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands? If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.”
—Richard Siken from "Wishbone”

“Here we are, at the place where I get to beg for it. Where I get to say ‘Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me? We can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?’ But we both know how it goes–– I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater. I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.”
—Richard Siken from "Wishbone”

“Even when I’m dead, I’ll swim through the Earth like a mermaid of the soil, just to be next to your bones.”
—Jeffrey McDaniel

richard siken sentence starters.

quotes are all taken from various poems out of richard siken’s poetry book crush.  feel free to change pronouns/etc if needed.

  • ❝  tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.  ❞
  • ❝  tell me we’ll never get used to it.  ❞
  • ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞
  • ❝  i swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth.  ❞
  • ❝  i want it back now, baby. i want it back.  ❞
  • ❝  i’m sorry. we know how it works. the world is no longer mysterious.  ❞
  • ❝  that’s a nice touch.  ❞
  • ❝  i like him and i want to be like him.  ❞
  • ❝  i’m sure you remember, i was on the phone with you, sweetheart.  ❞
  • ❝  history repeats itself.  ❞
  • ❝  there are many names in history, but none of them are ours.  ❞
  • ❝  you could drown in those eyes.  ❞
  • ❝  but damn if there isn’t anything sexier than a slender boy with a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills.  ❞
  • ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞
  • ❝  i couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but i wore his jacket for the longest time.  ❞
  • ❝  you wanted happiness, i can’t blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.  ❞
  • ❝  there is no way to make this story interesting.  ❞
  • ❝  i want to tell you this story without having to confess anything, without having to say that i ran out into the street to prove something.  ❞
  • ❝  tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more.  ❞
  • ❝  you will be alone always and then you will die.  ❞
  • ❝  i’m sorry i came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.  ❞
  • ❝  who am i? i’m just a writer. i write things down.  ❞
  • ❝  i take it back.  ❞
  • ❝  here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.  ❞
  • ❝  you still get to be the hero.  ❞
  • ❝  what more do you want?  ❞
  • ❝  love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like a religion. it’s terrifying.  ❞
  • ❝  no one will ever want to sleep with you.  ❞
  • ❝  you know that recently we have had our difficulties and there are many things i want to ask you.  ❞
  • ❝  you had not expected this.  ❞
  • ❝  walk a mile in my shoes.  ❞
  • ❝  a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river.  ❞
  • ❝  you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore.  ❞
  • ❝  hush, my sweet. these tornadoes are for you.  ❞
  • ❝  that sounds overly valorous.  ❞
  • ❝  do you love yourself?  ❞
  • ❝  i don’t have to answer that.  ❞
  • ❝  you wanted more.  ❞
  • ❝  i had a dream about you.  ❞
  • ❝  there’s nowhere to go. there’s nowhere to go.  ❞
  • ❝  in these dreams it’s always you: the boy in the sweatshirt, the boy on the bridge, the boy who always keeps me from jumping off the bridge.  ❞
  • ❝  will you love me even more when i’m dead?  ❞
  • ❝  you didn’t show up. i kept waiting.  ❞
  • ❝  i swallowed crushed ice pretending it was glass and you’re dead.  ❞
  • ❝  i don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back.  ❞
  • ❝  you can sleep now, you said. you can sleep now. you said that. i had a dream where you said that. thanks for saying that. you weren’t supposed to.  ❞
  • ❝  hello darling, welcome home.  ❞
  • ❝  please keep him safe.  ❞
  • ❝  i just don’t want to die anymore.  ❞
  • ❝  you want to die for love, you always have.  ❞
  • ❝  you didn’t think you’d feel this way.  ❞
  • ❝  you saved my life. i owe you, i owe you everything.  ❞
  • ❝  please, just for one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up.  ❞
  • ❝  you’re all i ever wanted and worth dying for, too.  ❞
  • ❝  drive into that tree, drive off the embankment. ______, make something happen.  ❞
  • ❝  we are not dirty.  ❞
  • ❝  you keep singing along to that song i hate. stop singing.  ❞
  • ❝  here is the sink to wash away the blood.  ❞
  • ❝  this is not harmless. you are not breathing.  ❞
  • ❝  i will come back from the dead for you.  ❞
Future Mrs. G - Dick Grayson x Reader

YJ verse where you’re on the team but you don’t really get along with Dick for whatever reason until Bart comes from the future and only knows you as Mrs.Grayson + Saw the “Bart knows the Reader as the future Mrs. Grayson” and I raise you Bart knows the reader as the future Mrs. Todd but cannot say a goddamn thing until Jay shows back up again. Optional: the reader from the Dick fic (*snorts*) and the reader from the Jay fic are besties. Not necessary but adds another element, no? + IF YOU SEE GOTHAM do you remember that episode where Dick parents appeared and also were fighting and couldn’t bear each other until jim made their families rebound and at the end were both cutie pies in love and went to thank Detective Gordon? I just remembered for the Bart thing like : Mrs. Grayson? Gordon: oh yes you remind me of your parents kid, lmao.

 A/N: This is a combination of a bunch of prompts because a ton of people asked for a fic where Bart comes from the future and knows shit. I figured it would all fit nicely together!

“UGH! You’re such an ass!” You shouted, pushing against Dick’s chest. He didn’t even wobble from the impact which only frustrated you more.

“You want to talk about it sweetheart?” He asked condescendingly.

You – You UGH! My mission? Really??? You gave the mission that I’ve been working on for a year to fucking Lagoon Boy? You know Dick you typically take a girl out on a date before you fuck her over!” You seethed. He appeared infuriatingly calm in the face of your anger.

“Lagoon Boy’s skills were more suited to the mi-“

“I don’t give a flying fuck why you chose him. That was my case. You had no right.” You said accentuating your anger with sharp pokes to his chest.

“I had every right. I’m serving as team leader while Kaldur is home visiting Atlantis. That means I’m calling the shots and I say you’re off the mission. Get over it or go home.” He replied firmly, his mouth set in a hard line as you glared up at him. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife.

“You keep pushing this and I’m going to make your life a living hell Dick Grayson. I will not be sidelined.” You hissed.

“Is that a threat?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at you. You didn’t even flinch at his intense glare.

“It’s a fucking promise.” You swore before turning on your heel and storming off.


“I can’t believe him Red! He’s such a fucking ass!” You complained to your best friend. The two of you were sitting in the near abandoned grotto where all the tributes to the fallen are stored. This was usually a fairly private place since no one really liked to remember just how dangerous this job was. Red would know, her first love and boyfriend had his own hologram down here. You had offered to meet in a different place for her sake but she insisted that Jay would have wanted us to meet where we had always met. Jason was your friend too but it was hard to see your friend be so torn up over his death.

“Didn’t you have a crush on him?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“When we were kids sure but I’d never be with him now. Not in a million years. I have standards Red, standards that include not being the most infuriating person to walk on Earth.” You swore.

“It sounds like to me you’re just frustrated that he won’t roll over and give you whatever you want at the drop of the hat.” She shrugged.

“I’m angry that he won’t let me work on the case that I’ve been working on for a year!” You cried. You worked yourself to the bone to get to where you were in the case and to have him step in and just hand it over to another team member to finish, it pissed you off more than anything.

“Have you ever thought that maybe he’s just trying to protect you?” She offered.

“Seriously? You’re taking his side?” You asked incredulously. How could your best friend defend this jerk? Wasn’t she supposed to take your side on this instead of making excuses for Dick?

“No I’m just saying that maybe you’re misreading the situation.” She shrugged. You scoffed at the notion.

“I’m not –“ You started to say before you were cut off by a blaring alarm warning the presence of an intruder. You and your friend immediately dropped the conversation and sprinted toward where the alert was coming from. A whirl of yellow sped past you just as you were about to enter the briefing room.

“Shit!” You swore, turning around to follow the speedster intruder. The yellow blur turned around and ran straight back towards you. Expecting it to run straight into you, you braced yourself for what you knew would be a painful impact but instead you were surprised to find that the young speedster wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“Hey Mrs. Grayson! Long time no see! Ha! How are the kids?” He asked, his words coming out only just slow enough to recognize what he was saying. He glanced around your body and saw something that made his eyes widen. “Welp gotta go now! See you later Mrs. G!” He waved before racing away.

“Why didn’t you take him out?” Dick shouted jogging up to you.

“I was going to but then he … hugged me.” You said still trying to grapple with what had just happened. You were so many levels of confused.

“Well what’s your excuse?” He snapped turning to look accusingly at Red. She shrugged and didn’t offer him an answer. Dick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this right now. Just … spread out and try to corner him alright?” He said before running back in the opposite direction of where the speedster was heading.

“Something you want to tell me Mrs. Grayson?” Red leaned over and asked you, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. You put your hand over her face and turned her grinning face away from you.

“No.”


It took a while but eventually the team was able to apprehend the mysterious speedster. It didn’t take much before he confessed that he was the Flash’s grandson from the future. He certainly had the proof to back up his claims.

If he was from the future that made wonder about what he had said to you when you first ran into each other.

“So … Bart was it? You’re from the future?” You asked sitting next the the young boy in the kitchen. He had been rifling for food in the fridge and eventually made himself a gargantuan sandwich filled to the brim with the oddest ingredients.

“Yes ma’am.” He answered taking a wide bite out the sandwich.

“Can I ask you something? About the future?” You asked hesitantly.

“I make no promises.” He responded.

“Understood.” You nodded. “You said something when we first met. You called me Mrs. Grayson. You want to tell me why?” You asked the seemingly simple question.

“It’s your name isn’t it? You are married to Nightwing right?” He asked. Your eyes widened and you heard Red start to cackle hysterically from the living room.

Noooooo.” You corrected immediately.

“Whoops. My bad. Forget I said anything then.” He said.

“Hold up. Am I married to him in the future?” You asked.

“I really should talk about –“ He started to argue but you cut him off before he could finish.

“Tell me!” You insisted firmly.

“Well I guess I’ve already said this much.” He sighed. “Yeah. You guys are the most disgustingly in love couple that I’ve ever met. Well you and the Todd’s really. Speaking of which where is Jason?” He said.

“Dead.” You answered simply. Suddenly Red’s laughing ceased.

“Oh. History never was my best subject.” He laughed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look kid, you’re nice and you clearly come from a future but are you sure you’re from this universe’s future. Nightwing and I … we aren’t even friends. I’m sorry but I highly doubt I’d ever marry him.”

“Look Mrs. G,”

“Please don’t call me that.” You insisted.

“I only know what I know.” He continued without hesitation. “One of your grandkids is a good friend of mine.”

“Oh god. I think I’m going to be sick.” You groaned.


“Thanks again Commissioner Gordon. This intel is really going to help.” Dick thanked the older man, holding up the flash drive that was just given to him.

“Anytime, son. It’s the least I can do after all these years of service that you and the Bat have given this city.” Gordon responded.

“It’s all in a day’s work Commish.” Nightwing smiled.

“Are you alright kid? You seem a little off tonight.” Gordon asked. He had known Robin, Nightwing, whatever name he goes by for years but the young man didn’t seem as chipper as he usually was.

“Just girl problems. Nothing too worrying, I assure you.” Dick brushed off. He had to admit that you had been on his mind a lot lately. He hated how antagonist your relationship with him had become. He had been such good friends with you when you were both just kids and now … well you two were lucky if you walked away from a conversation without being at each other’s throats.

“Oh?” Gordon questioned. “It’s that girl that bring along sometimes isn’t it? The one that you bicker with? It’s funny, you two remind me of a couple that came into the precinct back when I was still just a detective. They came from rival circus families and boy did they act like it. They bickered the entire time I was watching over them but not long after the family feud is patched up and these two come back in engaged and utterly lovesick. They offered to name their first born after me, you know.” Gordon reminisced one of the oddest cases he had ever been assigned. Unfortunately the young circus couple famously died after their trapeze line was tampered with, leaving their young son orphaned.

“I’m pretty sure this girl hates me. She’s made that pretty clear.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Nightwing. Give it time.” Gordon encouraged. Dick chuckled and shook his head at the idea that you could ever grow to have feelings other than annoyance for him

“I hope you’re as good at giving relationship advice as you are at your job.” Nightwing joked.

“I’m old, Nightwing. I think I know a thing or two.” He argued.

“If you’re right, I’ll be sure to send you a wedding invitation.” Nightwing said lightheartedly, not really thinking that your relationship would ever get to that level. It just seemed so far off considering where the two of you were now. Gordon though, he had seen stranger couples develop. He believed wholeheartedly that these kids would eventually come to find kindred souls in one another.

“I expect nothing less.”

Care For You (2)

Slight!Steve x Reader, Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Every time he takes care of her, she runs away  

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of abuse, reader and billy argue, reader and steve argue, that’s it i think 

Word Count: 2.9k+

PART 1 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Originally posted by cxhragrove

The next morning, Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and ringing in her ears. She groans into her pillow and hits her clock blindly to stop its ringing.

Her eyes peek open and harsh morning sunlight shines in. She hisses and shuts her eyes again. “I really need to stop drinking,” she mumbled, willing herself to get up and out of bed so she’d be on time for work.

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As Friends Do (1566 words)

“Dean, this has to stop.” 
Sam comes barging in through Dean’s door just as he’s making himself comfortable on the bed, trying to watch the latest episodes of Dr. Sexy in peace.
“Cas is stressing me out. He asked me if I’m angry with him for the fourth time this week.” 
Dean takes off his earphones and puts the episode on hold. “And why exactly would that be my fault, Sammy?” he asks irritated. Sam takes a few steps forward until he’s directly at the edge of his bed, looming over him.
“You know exactly why.” He nods to the open door, probably somewhere vaguely into Cas’ direction. “According to him, the stuff you do with him is how friends behave when their friends come back from the dead, and he now apparently thinks that I don’t want to be his friend.” 
That makes Dean splutter and blush; the stuff – what is he even – he didn’t do anything – and everything he did was certainly – “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally croaks and slams the laptop shut because he’s definitely not in the mood to watch Netflix right now.
Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re all over him ever since he came back. And really” – he raises his hands defensively – “I don’t care, but please, just tell him what you feel for him so we can all get this over with.” 
“Jesus, can’t a guy show some hospitality to a new member of the household?” he grumbles, probably still red as a tomato. Yeah, maybe he did stretch the definition of friendship a few times ever since Cas came back, but really, that shouldn’t be an issue, right? He was just trying to make Cas feel as comfortable as possible.
“Dean, practically fondling the guy under your shared blanket on the couch doesn’t count as hospitality, it really doesn’t,” Sam says exasperatedly.
Okay, that had only been one time, and he hadn’t fondled the guy, Jesus, he had only stroked his knee because he had struck it against the counter earlier that day. He opens his mouth to tell Sam as much, but he doesn’t let him.
“And Dean, really, I love Cas – as a friend – but I’d be more than happy to never have to touch his general crotch area in my life.”
“I never –”
“So please, do me a favor and tell this guy that you’d like to bump uglies with him in an extremely unfriendly way so I can stop explaining to him why I don’t want to touch every part of his body and why I never stand up at 5 am to make his favorite pancakes.” He points a finger at Dean. “Don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” 
Dean’s mouth opens and closes like a fish as he struggles to find words; maybe, eventually, Sam is, at least technically, right. He certainly wouldn’t be averse to do… stuff that’s not covered by a friendship with Cas, but he’s also pretty sure that Cas wouldn’t want that, so why the fuck should he even care? 
The fact that Cas expects the same treatment from Sam, for God’s sake, makes it clear that he’s not really into the whole feel–up–Dean–thing – or maybe he’s a kinky fucker and wants them both, but then – nope. He’s not going to go there.
“Dean,” Sam says again, more urgently this time. “I could probably hear your thoughts across the pond right now. If you really think that Cas is trying to get into my pants, I’m going to have to sue you for ingraining this image onto my eyeballs.” 
“I wasn’t – okay, shut the fuck up. I’m going to talk to Cas. But not about having sex with him, Jesus. I don’t –”
“Don’t even say it. I’m not even listening anymore, I’m done with your bullshit.” Sam puts his fingers in his ears and wanders off, mockingly whistling a cheerful tone. This jerk. 
“Alright, fine,” he tells himself and takes a deep breath. He can talk to Cas. Sure. He’s not sure yet what he’s supposed to say, but he can definitely bullshit his way through all of this. Sam’s just not that much of a hugger. Sam values his sleep over making pancakes, and he’d probably burn them anyway. Sam isn’t used to sharing a blanket because he’s so big he needs at least two for himself. 
Excellent. Now he just needs to tell that to Cas.

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anonymous asked:

I really, really love your hero/villain prompts! Could you please do some for me? I hope this situation isn`t too specific: the villain dies/is presumed dead, the hero takes this a lot harder than they thought they would, distances from their friends, starts acting somewhat self-destructive, possibly starts leaning towards the 'dark side' themselves. Then, the villain comes back. Thank you in advance and have a great day!

1) “You know, I always said you’d look pretty broken, but I never assumed it would be over me. Tut tut. What would people think?”  
For a moment, I thought I must have hallucinated you. Then I saw you. Different; I always imagined you flawless, mocking. You were tired, worn at the edges, but as sharp as ever where it counted. You stepped closer. “People will say we’re in love, Clarice.”
“Funny,” I managed to rasp. “You can’t pull off Lecter, you look like crap.” 
Something like a smile crossed your face.


2) “Darkness suits you, I always said it would.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Everyone’s supposed to be a lot of things, you shouldn’t believe in suppositions quite so easily, hero.” The villain’s head tilted, examining them. Carefully curious. “You were supposed to be happy I was gone.”
The hero swallowed - wondered how much the villain knew, how much they had seen. “Death didn’t suit you,” they allowed. “Especially not when I didn’t even get to kill you myself.”
“Ah, of course.”


3) The villain startled as arms flung around them…hugging them. They weren’t being attacked, or tackled, or assaulted. They were being…hugged. By the hero. The hero who was shaking, clutching hold of them like a lifeline, like something long lost and infinitely precious. The villain blinked. Their arms came up somewhat automatically, one hand sliding into the hero’s hair. What trickery was this? 
“Well, if I thought dying was all it took to make you surrender to me, I would have done it ages ago.” 


4) The hero woke to soft sheets, a strange flat, a groggy ache different to the hollow ache that had been spreading through them for the last few months. A pair of boots rested lightly on their legs, extending from a chair, from- the hero’s breath hitched. 
The villain didn’t even look up from their book. “You don’t get to self-destruct, breaking you is my job. Honestly, it’s fucking pathetic the state I found you in. You should have some self-respect.” 


5) “Aw, it’s like watching a child play dress up in the grown up’s clothing. How are you enjoying being me? It feels good, doesn’t it? But you don’t pull it off better than me. Take a bow now, and get out of my way.”

★*゚‘゚・ Stephen King’s It (1990)

❝ I told you to stay out of this. ❞
❝ Six kids missing or dead is cause for alarm. ❞
❝ There’s something wrong here. ❞
❝ You didn’t have to take this job. We don’t need the money.  ❞
❝ I took the job to be with you.  ❞
❝ Swear to me that if It isn’t dead…we’ll all come back. ❞
❝ Please, ______, tell me a story. ❞
❝ Go bug somebody else, I don’t feel so hot. ❞
❝ Be careful. ❞
❝ Aren’t you gonna say hello? ❞
❝ Don’t you want a balloon?  ❞
❝ I’m not supposed to take stuff from strangers. My dad said so. ❞
❝ There’s cotton candy, rides and all sorts of surprises down here. And balloons, too, all colors. ❞
❝ They float. And when you’re down here with me… you float too! ❞
❝ He didn’t just die. He was…murdered. ❞
❝ Why are you stuttering? ❞
❝ What happened? Tell me. Damn it, talk to me. Let me help. ❞
❝ You’re scaring me. ❞
❝ We live in dangerous times, boys and girls. I want you to be careful. ❞
❝ You’re gonna die! ❞
❝ Elmer Fudd has a lisp. It’s Porky Pig that stutters. ❞
❝ Now don’t insult my intelligence. ❞
❝ You’re doing fine. You can handle this. ❞
❝ Listen to me. There’s been another murder. ❞
❝ I’ll show you how to float down here. They all float down here! ❞
❝ You gotta help me! Somebody, please! ❞
❝ In the basement! There’s a werewolf! ❞
❝ We were lucky we didn ’t get ourselves killed that summer. ❞
❝ I didn’t see a werewolf. Just a clown. ❞
❝ It’s an evil being that can read our minds…and take the shape we’re afraid of. ❞
❝ Couldn’t it be just a guy dressed up in a clown suit?  ❞
❝ I got bones to pick with you, but I’ll let that go for today. ❞
❝ I’ll kill you all! ❞
❝ I’ll drive you crazy and I’ll kill you all! ❞
❝ I’m every nightmare you’ve ever had! I’m your worst dream come true! I’m everything you ever were afraid of! ❞
❝ We gotta do something. ❞
❝ They don’t see what we see. ❞
❝ You grow up, you stop believing. ❞
❝ It kills kids, damn it! ❞
❝ It’s scared of us, you know. I can feel that. I swear to God I can. ❞
❝ I want to kill it. ❞
❝ Help me. Please, help me. Help me. ❞
❝ You promised. ❞
❝ I think this is crazy. ❞
❝ On my honor, I will do my best to do my duty to God and my country. ❞
❝ …you guys don’t have to do this. ❞
❝ What are you afraid of? ❞
❝ Before you die, I want you to think about every rock you threw…and everything you’ve said. Think about that before you die. ❞
❝ Wake up, hot stuff. That ain’t Daddy. ❞
❝ I am eternal, child. I am the eater of worlds…and of children. And you are next. ❞
❝ It sounded like It was dying. ❞
❝ How could I have forgotten? ❞
❝ I’m not afraid of you.❞
❝ I got a balloon for you. Don’t you want a balloon? ❞
❝ You’re too old to stop me. You’re all too old! ❞
❝ You’re in my mind. Only in my mind. ❞
❝ I wasn’t gonna hurt you. I don’t even know you.  ❞
❝ Reliving your childhood? ❞
❝ Just saying hi to some old ghosts, you know. ❞
❝ Get out of Derry while you still can. ❞
❝ What the hell is happening? I mean, what is going on? ❞
❝ When they pulled him out, his hair was white. He was babbling. About a clown. ❞
❝ Why are we the only ones that can see this? ❞
❝ It’s true what they say. We all float down here. And you will too.  ❞
❝ ______’s dead. ❞
❝ Let’s get the hell out of here. ❞


Jon x Female Reader

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Imagine returning from the battle of the bastards when everyone thinks your dead and having wild, passionate sex with Jon.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

\ Request from anonymous /

I love your writing 😍 can you do an imagine where Jon thinks he lost you in a battle but you come back and there’s wild and passionate sex that follows? Just really romantic and passionate Jon please ommggg

♡ ♡ ♡ Warning: SMUT ♡ ♡ ♡

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2

Requested by anonymous


“(Y/N). Your brothers are here,” Charles said.

“Oh no. Why?” you called back.

“(Y/N), go see them.”

“Why? They haven’t come before? And I’ve been here for three years.”

Sherlock and Mycroft rarely visited you or even interacted with you outside of family holidays. You were so much younger than both of them that when you were born Mycroft was in University and Sherlock was off doing God knows what, God knows where.

Charles shrugged and you snorted.

“Just go,” Charles told you and then left your room.

You contemplated how you should use your powers to scare them. You had the ability to teleport and you could use it to appear behind them and scare them.

You snickered and closed your eyes. Summoning your strength, you visualized the front porch and your brothers standing there facing the door. You grinned and then pushed yourself to teleport behind them.

You appeared behind them seconds later and cleared your throat. Sherlock and Mycroft both jumped and you laughed.

“Brothers,” you greeted.

“(Y/N), it’s good to see you,” Mycroft smiled. You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms.

Sherlock was giving you a flat stare, but you thought his lips twitched when you glared at Mycroft.

“What do you want?”

“We just wanted to visi-“

“Cut the shit. You haven’t visited me ever and even before that we never talked.”

Mycroft frowned, but you stood your ground. Whatever they wanted it had to be serious, they wouldn’t be here otherwise.

“We need your help,” Sherlock finally relented.

“With what?”

They both hesitated there and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re both geniuses, but dammit you’re idiots. How the hell am I supposed to help with something I don’t even know about because you two don’t trust your own sister?”

Sherlock looked nonplussed at your outburst, but Mycroft seemed a little more hurt at the accusation and you couldn’t tell if he was genuine or just playing it up to make you feel sympathetic.

“We need you to…” Mycroft hesitated.

“What?”

“Go undercover with Moriarty.” Sherlock finished, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry? You want me to what?”

“Go undercover in Moriarty’s organization and use your powers to gather information.”

“And this is a good plan how? I’m Sherlock’s younger sister. He’ll have to have heard of me.”

Mycroft shrugged at that and you narrowed your eyes.

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“When the car crash happened and your powers were triggered…”

The car crash fifteen years ago that had led to the discovery of your powers of disguise and teleportation had led to you being sent away and you hadn’t seen any of your family since then. You assumed it was because they were ashamed to have a mutant Holmes, but you didn’t really know.

“Mum had you declared dead. Then she sent you here. That’s why we never visited,” Mycroft admitted.

“She… Why? What…”

You clenched your fists and glared at the two men before you. They were six and thirteen years older than you, they could have reached out to you at any time, but they still went along with Mum’s plan to have you dead and missing from the world.

“I’m going now. Please don’t come back.” You tried to speak harshly, but your voice broke on the word please and you looked away.

“(Y/N), we… care about you.”

“No! No you don’t. You need me. You could have come earlier, but you didn’t.”

“Gentlemen, I believe it is time you took your leave,” Charles announced from the doorway. You brushed past your brothers and into the house leaving your family behind.

"OH GOD MY EYES"

Context: I DM a Bloodborne themed campaign for 2 friends and my girlfriend. Our Dragonborn Bladesinger Davkul always gets crazy high perception checks and we never know how. On a DC 5 he rolls 30’s. The party was in a crab apparatus leaving a magically fog covered town to find a dead body of an NPC they’d met.

Sethy, our Fey Corgi Sorcerer: I roll perception to see the odd figure on the ground (rolls 10).

DM: You see a black suit of armor…its legs are missing and it’s got something green sprouting from it’s back.

Davkul: (rolls a 28) [ooc] Haha! Davkul sees all!

DM: Davkul sees into the cosmos and the very fabric of time, you see your own birth, roll a constitution check

Davkul: OH GOD MY EYES MAKE IT STOP (rolls way past the requirement again)

DM: You stop seeing so far through time and see the dead body has green wings coming out of it’s back and it’s lower half is missing.

Davkul: …..

DM: ….

Sam, our Hunter: so uh…im gonna go take a look at the body..

Davkul: me as well please

Sethy: I’ll just stay here I guess…piloting the crab.

Beetlejuice (Connor Murphy x reader fic part 1 of 2)

THIS IS A GHOST AU. LIKE CONNOR IS DEAD BUT YOU MEET HIM IN HIS LIL GHOST FORM. IT’S NOT AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS. OR MAYBE IT’S EXACTLY AS LAME AS IT SOUNDS.

Guys. It is like crazy long. And only part one. I’m going to post part two in a few days but I split them up because i’m still working on an ending. I honestly have no clue if anyone will wanna read this because it’s so fucking long. But this is like a Connor Ghost fic where you move into his house after his family moves out to get over Connor’s death and he haunts you but you guys become friends and idk this idea was so good in my head idk it I did it justice but maybe someone will enjoy. Part two will not be long because 1.) lack of motivation 2.) lack of ideas 3.) I’m making you guys read all this I won’t continue to waste more of your time. also this was so hard to edit so i’m sure there are one thousand mistakes im sosososos sorry.

TW: suicide, self harm, bullying, anxiety, depression, swearing, angst, fuck it’s sort of sad idk i feel for ghost connor

12,085 words yikes

You jolted up, your sleep disturbed by loud (and quite rude) banging at your bedroom door. You shot up quickly, trying to figure out what the hell was happening at…

You checked your phone which was shoved under your pillow, the illumination making you flinch from your unadjusted eyes.

It was 12:00.

The knocking ceased momentarily, which made you think you were hearing things due to exhaustion. Plus, there was no way it was your parents, seeing as they were the oldest middle aged people you knew, hitting the pillow before 9:30. You relaxed, regretting it seconds later when the knocking came back.

You brought your legs close to your chest, covering your mouth so whoever was there couldn’t hear your breathing. You decided to quickly get up, drawing the cover off your bare legs and moving nimbly to your empty closet, trying to avoid the maze of boxes that crowded your room. You’d just moved in, it was literally your first night at the house and probably the last day of existence. You thought this was a good neighborhood, and your parents had an alarm system. Surely your dad would come running to save you or maybe they’re calling the people. Or maybe the imagined murderer already killed them, coming for you to finish the job. You could feel the tears well up in your eyes as you closed the walk in closet door as quickly as you could. Fuck. Is this the part you were supposed to pray for forgiveness? Fuck. You had leftovers in the fridge from tonight that you were really looking forward to eat for lunch tomorrow. Then you thought how pathetic that was, having that be your last breathing thought of your fleeting life. Your door swung open, not hearing any footsteps but a sudden pounding on your closet door. You were shaking, hands covering your mouth, resulting in tears to flow.

“Zoe! I know you were in my room. I can’t get in. You fucking locked it you bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you with the key when I find it. Stop messing with my head, I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.” The voice screamed out desperately, followed by angry sobs. Your tears ceased however. Zoe? What the hell? What’s happening? The closet door swung open, but no one was even there. All was quiet, you were so shaken up you couldn’t move for five whole minutes. It was like you were frozen. You were tired. Maybe, that was some sort of nightmare of sleep paralysis. Because where the hell did the voice come from. How the hell did your door fly all the way open without a single person in sight. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. From lack of sleep or from that weird black mold that grows in the walls you heard about in that short weird documentary on YouTube. That’s the only plausible thing. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to blink away to exhaustion. You finally exited out of the tiny space, going to reach for the closet door knob to cease it shut. Before your hand even got near it, it slammed closed, causing you to open your eyes swiftly.

“What the hell is your problem, Zo-” A boy stood before you, looking half dead. Not even half, but fully dead. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked like he had bags under his eyes, and even in the dark, you could see a large circular purple mark all the way around his neck.

You fucking started screaming.

“Shit!” he cupped his hands over your mouth, the temperature of Antarctica hovering over your lips. “I didn’t realize Zoe had friends over. Shut up you’re going to wake up my parents.” This is when you started crying. Not only did he murderer sneak into your home, he was a complete lunatic. His parents? Zoe? He was fucking nuts and he was definitely going to kill you. You went to shove him away, but your hands went through, like he was mist. Now, you started to ball. You were the crazy one. You convinced yourself you developed schizophrenia overnight and were losing it, or it was definitely the black mold. He looked as scared as you did, backing away. He touched his stomach, which his hands didn’t go through at all. His face was unreadable, then he was unreadable, vanishing into thin air.

You didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

The next day you walked around void, scared to go even take a nap. You convinced yourself it was just a nightmare. A nightmare you don’t remember falling asleep to or waking up from but that’s what you decided. You needed to tell yourself it was fine. You also googled that hallucinating black mold, and that really only grows in really old houses, so you eliminated that. It was fine. Everything was fine. Your parents commented on how tired you looked. Brushing it off, you just told them how excited you were about the new house, and you couldn’t sleep. A lie, but since you were lying to yourself why not make some more up. Night quickly approached as you tried to fix up your room, figuring where your desk and bookshelves should go. Plus, nothing else really weird happened. You stayed up, busying yourself by decorating. When the banging started again. It was midnight

“Zoe!”

Fuck.

So, reality was hitting you. Were you crazy? Was this house fucking haunted. You never really believed in ghosts, but that wasn’t to say it didn’t scare the crap out of you. The door slammed open about, without a person there. You froze in place again, waiting for it to just appear again. It went straight to the closet again, banging loudly.

“Why are you doing this?” Similar words whimpering out of his mouth. You think about running into your parent’s room, like how you did when you were 5. But you were just stuck. The hallucination, or ghost, or whatever, had their back toward you. It was definitely a guy, his voice low and sort of nasally. He had shoulder length hair, you couldn’t tell if it was black or brown, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans. He disappeared and the closet door slammed open, as it did the other night. Connor reappeared right in front of you, your eyes wide and just in utter shock.

He hissed: “Who the hell are you?” His eyes were a very dull blue with what seemed to be brown spot that now seemed more gray than anything. They were lifeless. Below was a nose that had a few bumps down the slope, and a wide mouth with a soft, but prominent cupid’s bow. His neck was even more visible than the night before, making your skin crawl as you peered at the purple mark that was the entire circumference of his neck. You subconsciously dug your nails into your palms, feeling pain within seconds. So you were definitely awake. Next was to test if this was a hallucination from sleep deprivation. You squeeze your eyes shut, as hard as you can you think your face might melt, scared to open them back up. He was still there, with a face of confusion mixing with anger. Okay, now it was ghost checking time. You gently went to put your arm through him, ghosts are just apparitions right? Your whole hand went through his body.

“W-what..?” he stuttered out, almost like a croak.

You pondered, how could he touch you but you couldn’t touch him. A realization came to you, causing you to jerk your hand back. He could hurt you but you can’t even defend yourself against him. Tears started to spill again.

“Please don’t hurt me.” you whimpered softly, completely submissive.

His eyes widen, freaked out that you thought he was trying to hurt you. “I’m not… I wouldn't…. how… what…” he was totally as confused as you were. Probably more scared than you, if that was even possible. This boy is dead and he doesn’t even know. The sound of footsteps approach your door, and the ghost was gone.

“Why is your light still on, sweetie?” your mother comes in, wincing from the brightness.

“Sorry, I’ll wrap it up soon.” you told her, again, like nothing was wrong. You quickly turned away, shielding your tears from her. She was oblivious and didn’t even notice. Your mom walks into your room, admiring your wall of old pictures of your friends.

“This is nice…” she says, trailing off knowing you weren’t happy with the move becasue you were an hour away from all your friends now. You hum meekly, not able to say a word about the topic. “I’m really sorry honey. It was just… You know your dad got this new job. And neither of us wanted to move your senior year but… We didn’t have a choice. You know that.”

“It’s fine, mom. I’ll meet new friends! And I’ll still have them! So I’ll have twice the amount of friends now.” you struggled to fake enthusiasm, but your mother’s density seemed to buy it

“Well. You gotta go to the new school tomorrow. It’s Monday now, so you gotta get up early. You can even take my car. Maybe I’ll ask your dad if he’d be willing to buy you your own! Uh? How about that.”

“Sounds great. That’d be really cool…” you tried to say with fervor, but it came off more sarcastic.

Your mom came over to you and planted a kiss on your forehead. “You know I love you, sweetie.” you nod in response as she turns to leave, turning the light out on the way out.

The boy didn’t come back again that night

—.

School sucked. You didn’t meet any new friends. Kids looked at you weird. The school was a lot bigger than your last one. You were late to one of your classes. And the walls were bare, with the exception of some random suicide prevention posters up. They gave you a sour taste in your stomach. The words “The Connor Project” almost screaming out to you as you passed them at the end of each hallway. Was Connor a kid at your school? Is? Was? That was even more disturbing to think about, there was a dead kid at your new school that everyone is probably mourning and you have no clue who this kid even was.

Unless.

No. No! That was completely ridiculous. Absolutely not.

Once you got home, you found yourself opening your laptop typing the name of the school and the name on the posters.

Connor Murphy -  Obituaries

You clicked the link, leading you to an obit from almost a year ago that contained a school picture.

Fuck.

The colored picture was a kid looking straight into the camera. A kid that had sad heterochromic eyes. A kid with a bumpy nose. A kid with a wide mouth with a define cupid’s bow. A kid was long brown shoulder length hair.

A kid that looked eerily similar to whatever you saw last night.

You ran downstairs. Your mom making god-knows-what in the kitchen with your dad.

“Did a kid kill himself in this house.” you blurted out. You didn’t want to put it that way. That sounded insensitive. But the words were already out there. You mom was shocked, eyes wide and she brought her lips in, as if she was sealing them. You’re dad pushed up his sleeves and tilted his head to the right, squeezing his eyes closed as if he was trying to read the lines he was about to tell you, like they were tiny little cue cards in his head.

“We should all sit down.” he calmly said. Good one, father. Rehearsed that perfectly. The three of you head over to the couch, you sitting on the chair opposite, like they were having an intervention for you that you started.

Your father started. “There was a family who lived here. The Murphy’s.” Christ. It’s been confirmed.

“They had two children. Zoe… and er…” your mom took control of the conversation but paused before saying his name. “and Connor.”

“Last year… Around this time. Connor…” Your mother covered her mouth, like she was going to start to cry. You wanted to roll your eyes at her fake sympathy. Your father took her hand.

“He hung himself, (y/n)”

Your mother chimes in, “(y/fathers/n)! You don’t have to be so brash. God! Sweetie, the young man, the Murphy’s son, committed suicide. He was very unhappy, sweetie. And if you’re ever going through anything-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you guys about anything I’m going through or whatever.” You lied. Not necessarily about the depression bit, but more over on the side of telling them things. No way in hell were you going to tell them you thought the house was haunted. They’d think you were just paranoid. “Um… where did it happen?” They knew what you meant by it.

In his bedroom. Which, is my office now. That’s why we had you take the girls room. Just because you were destined to find out. And I know that wouldn’t sit right with you” Your dad said. You sighed, sinking back in your chair. After letting all the information set in, you went slowly back up to your room, pulling out your phone.

You googled: exorcists in my area.

Bad news was that this new town didn’t seem to have any exorcists nearby, and the closest one was about 3 hours away and charged a hell of a lot. Money you didn’t have. Money you couldn’t even ask your parents for because imagining what that conversation would be like was one that wouldn’t go. Not even well, just wouldn’t go. So you decided if you’re going to be living here for the next year before going off to college. It was ghost befriending time. You felt a little stupid typing into the search bar “how to befriend a ghost that doesn’t know he’s a ghost living in your house .” Nothing. You went for something more broad. “Befriending ghosts”. More, not many, results showed up, causing you to scan through them. You read almost every article on the first two pages. Even watched some videos (with headphones in case the parents would hear). Also, you may or may not have taken notes. It was getting late, and you heard your parents go to bed. Connor was going to knock any minute, your phone was at 11:59. You walked up to your door. And as soon as a knock happened, you swung it open. Connor angrily standing there, bewildered now.

“Shit.” he said under his breath. You signaled for him to come in. “I,” he paused. “What happened to Zoe? What happened to my parents? Where are they.” he was started to catch on, realizing  something was up.

Even though you were scared, you also felt like you owed him something. You weren’t sure why, but he needed to know. At least a little.

“They don’t live here anymore, Connor.”

“What… What are you saying. Where the hell are they? And… H-how do you even know my name?” he stammered over his words, not looking at me. I tried to avoid his neck.

“Connor… do you know what you are.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He ignores you. Instead, he’s focused on the mirror hung up on the wall. Shit, he can’t look at himself like that. He will freak. You follow his line of sight, seeing you. Just you. Of course, he wouldn’t be there. He’s not living.

“Oh my god…” he started to breath heavier and heavier, until tear start falling.

“I’m so-”

“Stop! This is some weird nightmare. Some weird long nightmare… That I’m only remembering bits and pieces of as I go more and more into my sleep. I’m going to wake up. I’m going to go to school. I’m going to live a miserable life and make everyone else miserable. I’m-” He’s basically wheezing for air. He fell to the ground, you going by his side, going to try to embrace him until he disappeared.

Well. That went superb.

It had been a couple of days, and you saw no sign of Connor. But you could still sense him lingering, the air always seeming colder when he was around. You’d call out his name. And… Nothing. It was like he was hiding.

Anyway, school was the same. But today was particularly bad, it was worse by one thousand percent than all the other days combined.

You overheard some kids talking in English. “It’s the anniversary.” one said, almost as if he was amused.

“Shut up. I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. You’re messed up.” a girl hissed at him.

“I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Happy?” she was repulsed.

“Well, if you think about it. It was either us or him.” It clicked in you. They were talking about Connor.

“What the hell do you mean by that.” she asked. You asked the same question in your head. You pretended to look for a pencil inside your bag, turning your body 90 degrees so you could actually hear better as you rummaged through your bag.

The boy with glasses breathed out, “I mean that he would’ve shot up the school if he didn’t snap his neck. That’s what I mean.” the girl looked at him with utter disgust. “You act like that’s far-fetched.”

“Connor wasn’t like that. You didn’t know him.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t either.” they paused. You glanced back, trying to figure out why they stopped. They both peered over at you.

“Could you give us some damn privacy.” the boy growled. You quickly turned back, facing the front of the room, heart beating out of your chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. You already made an enemy, and you didn’t have any friends yet to comfort you. You held your breath for what seemed like the rest of class, zoning out of their conversation, the lecture, everything. The bell snapped you out of it. You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey.” a feminine voice called out. You turn around. It was the girl. “I’m really sorry about Jared. He’s a real jerk. I’m Alana.” She stuck out her hand, but you didn’t shake it. You couldn’t. Hand sweat levels were off the radar.

“I’m really sorry for eavesdropping. That was so not cool.” you blurted out.

“No! No, it’s fine, really.” she reassured you, making you comfortable enough to make eye contact. “I, uh, I know you’re new here. You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’m not a stalker or anything i just have to know everyone’s name. I’m running for senior president!” she told you, getting off topic. Shaking her head, “Anyway, enough of the self-promo. Um, what lunch period do you have?

“3rd…” you told her.

“Oh me too! If you want, you can come sit with me.” you weren’t sure if she was being nice, piteous, or deceptive. But you accepted, you didn’t want to eat in the library for the following week, pretending to catch up on your new classes.

Lunch came around and you looked all over for Alana. She spotted you before you spotted her.

“(Y/N)!” she called out much louder than needed to, and everyone looked. Your day was just filled with embarrassment. You walk over, with your head down and sit across from Alana. The boy, Jared was there along with another boy who looked severely uncomfortable as well. You made a mental note, knowing that feeling all to well.

“Hey, Alana.” you decided against a verbal hello to the boys. So you just gave them a nod. Jared just kind of stared at you while the other kid smiled awkwardly back. This was weird. Alana was weird. Jared was weird. That kid was weird. And you were weird. All weird in different ways, so it made it even weirder. You all weren’t even on the same ‘weird’ page.

“So, (Y/N). Sorry about the whole ordeal I made in English.” Jared, the boy with glasses who yelled at you, said. It wasn’t a genuine apology. Alana gritted her teeth at him. “Since you’re new to this school, I’ll tell you a little of its history.” He said, almost demented. It reminded you of something the joker would say (Heath Ledger’s joker, may Heath Ledger rest in peace). “You see, today an important day. It’s the day we lost a fellow student. The anniversary of Connor Murphy’s death.” you gulped down. This was all way too much for you. “Great guy. Really added to the atmosphere here. You see all these kids mourning?”

No one seem to be upset. Oh… you got it. He was being sarcastic.

The awkward kid cut him off, “That’s enough.” he yelled, banging his hand on the table.

“Oh, Evan. I know you must be grieving greatly. You were his best friend after all.” Evan glared at Jared. So that’s his name. Everyone was dead silent. Like, the whole cafeteria. A girl got up and ran out. You swear to god, you recognized her. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend, Zoe. Aren’t you going to go get her?” Zoe? Fuck. Zoe was the sister. Evan followed her out, chasing behind.

“She still goes here.” you accidentally asked with concern aloud. Jared looked at you scarily, almost wanting to smirk. This conversation going exactly as he wanted.

“Oh! So you know about the Murphys? How’s that?”

“Jared, stop it.” Alana told him

“No!” he said, “How do you know about them?”

You couldn’t tell them. You weren’t about to let them know you live in that house. Jared would probably harass you some more.

“I- I don’t. I don’t know anything. I’m just gonna go-” you start to get up.

“No! You can’t go!” he announced. Alana pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell us about it?”

“About what?” you asked back.

“Are you an idiot or something? The house. Alana told us you live in the house. Come on! Is it haunted? I feel like Connor was a troubled soul. Did you exorcise it? You really should look into that!” Your eyes darted over to Alana. She didn’t look at you. Is this why she wanted you to sit there. You jolted up, walking rapidly out of the cafeteria. You went to walk down one hallway but you saw Evan trying to comfort zone, which she seemed more tense and remote in his present. You could tell it would be better for Evan to just leave her alone, but you decided against interfering. You barely knew what the hell happened other than the death of this kid Connor.

School really sucked.

Hours past. It was about midnight and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Really, you couldn’t stop crying. You started crying because of how no one seemed to be nice at this school, then you started bawling about how your old school was fine and how you missed all your friends and the familiarity and everything that this new place isn’t.

“Why are you crying.”

Your head shut up. Connor was at the end of your bed. He stared into the mirror. At nothing.

“You didn’t knock?” trying to make a joke but you accidentally let your voice crack.

The corners of his mouth pulled up, but quickly fell. He got straight to the point, “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked. All you had to do was look at him, and he got the answer from your eyes. He shut his eyes.

You wanted to get his mind off the matter. “School sucks. That’s why I’m crying, if you’re still curious.”

“If you go to the one I go to, you got that fucking right.” neither one of you corrected his wording of the present tense of “to go”. But you both knew.

“People are mean.” you murmured out.

“Yeah… I know.” he clenched his jaw. Shit. You guessed that school was a factor why he did… it. “Who was mean to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Then what do you wanna talk about because you don’t wanna talk about the fact I offed myself, so I’m kind of running out of conversation topics here.” You didn’t say anything. He squeezed his knuckles, digging his nails into his palms like you do sometimes. You didn’t know what to say, he kept going anyway. “It wasn’t Jared Kleinman, was it?” he asked bluntly. So that was his last name. “Fucking Christ, he’s such a dick.” his voice gets a little louder. Your face must of given it away. You made another mental note to show letting your thoughts show to easily. “Avoid him. Just ignore everything he says or does. You have to numb yourself at this school, okay.”

Your ghost was giving you survival tips on how to make it through senior year. It’s ironic, because, he didn’t exactly survive it himself. But this irony was not of the humorous sort. You felt sick.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I just feel dizzy.” the room really started to spin. It’s like you momentarily forgotten you were talking to a literal dead person and when you remember, you reacted the way any normal person would. You passed out.

“Hey, um, girl.” Connor never learned your name. “Hey, um. You aren’t dead too? Right.” Connor almost started to dryly smile to himself. “Because I’m the one who gets to haunt this house, not you.” He checked your pulse. It was strange. He seemed to be able to touch you, but you couldn’t touch him. He was having the same realization as you. He got up. Looking around your room for anything he could find more about you on. He looked along your walls, looking at pictures of you and your friends. There was one of you kisses some guys cheek. Connor got annoyed by it. Why did everyone have someone but him. He looked back at you, the unknown girl to him, and bought a cover up your body. Then disappearing

The following day of school, you guessed it, sucked. You’re starting to see a pattern here.

Alana tried talking to you again. You didn’t want to talk with her though, you didn’t even want to look at her. Jared just kind of would glance at you and quickly look away, guilt lingering in his stares. Then, Evan just kept his head down. Not that you were mad at him or anything. He didn’t do anything. Well, not to you. It seemed something was up with that awkward kid. Like, did he mess around with Zoe or was he a dick to Connor? He didn’t seem like either type, so you let it go.

Jared did approach you after school in the parking lot.

“(Y/N)!” he called out nervously. You kept walking, putting in your earphones to drown him out; drown everything out. You could tell he was still calling stuff out, but you couldn’t hear it over the lyrics of Karma Police. You felt a hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around roughly. Was this kid trying to fight you? He paused your music from your headphones. “Hey.” he said shyly.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You unpaused your music and started toward your car again. This time he ran in front of you, taking out your earphones.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t know why I was like that yesterday. Just, the whole Connor thing kind of tips me off.”

You cut him off not really caring to hear more, “It’s whatever. If you really wanna apologize, just leave me alone and that’d be more than enough.”

“Please, just wait. I don’t want you to think I’m this massive asshole. I mean, I am an asshole. But I was just vindictive yesterday. Something happened after Connor’s death. Something messed up that some kid did and, I uh, I helped him with it. And I still feel guilty. It was fucked up, and I’m still angry about it. So I took it out in you, god knows why.” His voice started to tremble. You started feeling bad, now.

“Jared, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine. None of it was fine. Evan got out of hand, and I was just as bad.”

Confused, you stated: “Evan didn’t really do anything.”

“Not yesterday. Before… The Connor Project. Fuck. Never mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Jared quickly b-lined for his car. You stood there, not understanding one bit.

Maybe Connor will have some answers.

You took a nap when you got home. You haven’t been getting much sleep, and you knew you’d have to wake up at midnight to talk to Connor. Your life was getting weird.

You woke up to a weight at the edge of your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, Connor sitting before you. His hair in front of his face looking at one of your old yearbook. The one from 9th grade.

“You look really different now.” he simpered. Everyone’s 9th grade picture was cringy. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Drawing out each name.

You tore it out of his hands. “So is this how you haunt people? Humiliation? Because the average ghost would flicker the lights on and off, or throw my valuables at me, or write murderous things in my wall with my cat’s blood.”

“You have a cat?”

“You missed the point.”

“Are you really trying to tell me how to be a proper ghost? Because I don’t believe you have that sort of experience under your belt.” he slyly stated.

Without even thinking (which you really should have fucking done), you remarked back, “says the one trying to tell me how to survive high school.” your eyes widen. Did you really just fucking say that. His jaw clenched, digging his nails into his palms, knowing he wouldn’t feel a thing. “Shit. that was supposed to be a joke. But I suppose jokes are funny, and that was just-”

He cut you off, “This sucks. This still sucks so much and I’m still in so much pain. But I can’t even hurt myself. I’m just stuck. Afterlife fucking suck. But high school was so bad, my family was so unbearable, I was so insufferable. Everything was starting to feel not real, I was numbing myself. No one was there for me. No one gave two shits about the freak. No one ever reached out. I had no one. No one to talk to. No one to vent to. No one.”

Your heart started hurting.  An “I’m sorry.” was all you could muster out.

“It’s too late.”

“I know….” you paused. You understood how he felt. Being alone. Being with people didn’t even stop that feeling. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “Do you know an Evan Hansen.” There you went with the present tense again.

The lights started to flicker, you would’ve made a joke if you both weren’t having a serious conversation about it. “Yeah.” he said simply, trying to not get angry. There was pause between the both of you before he continued. “I thought he might’ve been a nice kid. He wasn’t. He made fun of me just like everyone else… With this note. God, that stupid fucking note.”

“What did the note say.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was some prank. Jared probably put him up to it. They just wanted to get in my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m sorry.” He whipped his head at you, “Shit, I mean-”

“It’s fine, (Y/n). Just… try not to. Or whatever. I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. Why’d you ask about Evan?”

“Jared brought him up to me today-”

Connor cut you off, “I thought I told you to avoid that fucking kid. He’s not a nice guy.”

“I tried. No, I tried. He like, hunted me down in the parking lot. Apologizing and telling me some stuff.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s probably trying to make some joke. He thinks he’s the fucking class clown but he’s not even funny.” he paused, curious about what he might have said. “What was the stuff he told you.”

“Um…” you didn’t know whether to tell him about the Connor Project. It was obviously about him, but he didn’t seem to be fond of anyone at his school. Not even his sister. Now wasn’t the right time to bring that up. You know he’d be pissed about it. And now, it pissed you off, feeling like it was a pity project to make people feel better that no one actually cared about Connor.

“Woah, easy.” Connor said, sort of aggressively. He pulled your fingers off your palms, finding little red marks indenting your skin, the skin slightly broken. He brushed his fingers over the marks, you didn’t even realize you started to do that “I do the same thing. It just doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Connor didn’t re-ask what Jared told you. You two kind of talked about random stuff the rest of the night. Like your family (who were very different but similar in the rich neglectful way), your old lives (his living and yours where you used to live), and then music (which surprisingly was very similar! How many people can say their house ghost has a good taste in music. I’d take a wild guess and say next to none!) You stayed up until three, and both of you were getting tired (ghosts need sleep too apparently, existing in that form is draining.) You fell asleep first, curling up your body in a fetal position on your full size bed while Connor sat crossed legged. Before he disappeared, he had the realization that you were cute. Which wasn’t going to be good, finding you attractive.



“(Y/N)?” Jared whispered behind you. Snapping at you to get your attention. “Hey (Y/N) Pst! Hey, hey, (Y/N)!” he started yelling-whispering. “Heeeee-”

“What, Jared?” you hissed back. He leaned back in his desk, smiling widely at you in a goofy way.

“Wanna be partners?” he asked, pretending like you never said to leave you alone.

“Aren’t you usually with Alana?”

“She’s at some Student Council field trip for like three days, so I thought since neither of us have partners. Then we should just group up.”

You corrected him “You can’t find a partner.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re miss popular. I mean, look at all the people begging to be your partner. What? You want me to get on my knees, profess my dire need of your partnership? Huh?”

“No don’t-” …And the boy was on his knees, making a scene.

“Oh, sweet merciful goddess of forgiveness. Please take mercy in me and take me on as your burden. Rise me up through the ashes and make me anew. Oh-”

“Okay okay. Please just stop… whatever you were just doing. Bring a desk over here.” you quickly told him, getting up to stop. You tried to hide your face. Half the class chuckled while the other rolled their eyes. So this was typical. Connor did tell you he was the class clown type. Though, Connor would’ve been a part of the half to roll their eyes.

The two of you started working. It was a MacBeth project. Recreating some scene in a modern day aspect. Jared wouldn’t shut up because how lame it was. Though, as you wrote the script, he would put his two cent on what memes to add. You ignored him.

You couldn’t help but to think about what Jared was telling me yesterday. You knew it was none of your business, but you couldn’t help to feel curious. Especially since you, well know Connor.

“Jared.” you said, not looking up from the paper you were writing on. “Um, what’s the Connor Project?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, “It’s a dead club.” You knew if he didn’t feel guilty about the whole thing, he would have chuckled at his accidentally pun. “The posters are still up just to make everyone feel better. Like the schools doing something when no one is.”

“Well, why isn’t anyone running it.”

“Why are you so curious about it all of the sudden. You didn’t want me to talk to you at all yesterday now you’re asking me questions about this. What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one… I’m just… I don’t know. You, Alana, Evan, and Zoe just were really beat up about it. But no one else seemed to even flinch or bat an eye. Did Connor mean a lot to you.” you weren’t sure why you were asking questions you knew the answers too, people do that a lot to hear what they wanna hear.

“I don’t wanna to talk about it.” No one wanted to talk about anything, you thought.

“I see.”

Jared remarked: “You don't…”

“Why’s that.”

“You don’t know anything that went down. You know some kid killed himself and Evan started the Project. Which is now dead. T-the project, that is.”

“Well, I don’t know anything because no one will tell me.” You thought to yourself for a minute, waiting for a response. Evan started it. But Connor said that Evan wrote that mean note-

“Can we just get back to working in this stupid project.”

You complied. You still had no answers, a fuck ton of questions, and a memeless MacBeth project.

You got home later that day around 3. Connor was already in your room.

“You’re up early.” you say unphased. I mean, come on. A ghost lives in your house and you talk to him daily, what else could phase you at this point.

“Yeah, I haven’t really figured out why though.” he mumbled. He’s lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling. You notice scars all on his forearms. You don’t say anything. “I think my body thought it was 12 at night, when it was really 12 in the afternoon. I’ve been laying here for about 3 hours waiting for you to get home. Why don’t you have a clock in here.”

“Because I have a phone.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even have an alarm clock.”

“My phone is my alarm clock.”

He changed the subject, “How’s school.”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking around at everything other than him. He looked tired and so beat up. It made you incredibly sad. Connor caught on

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me.” he said, annoyed by your distance. “Am I that ugly?” That’s when you realized. Your ghost was cute. But he was hard to look at, seeing all the pain he had to go through. You wanted to start crying for him in a way. But what gave you the right to cry. Also, why did you refer to him as your ghost.

You made yourself make eye contact. Connor noted to himself that if he were alive, he would’ve blushed. But there is no blood running through his body anymore. “You happy. I’m just stressing out about this MacBeth project.”

“The modernization one?”

“Yeah, you did it?”

“I received it.” he said dryly, understanding what he meant. You looked away. He noticed. “Um, you had to partner up with someone right? Who’d you group with?” he asked, trying to steer back the conversation on the right road.

You couldn’t tell him, so you lied: “Alana. I’m not sure what her last name is.”

“Beck. It’s Alana Beck. You’ll ace that one. You’ll just have to deal with her annoying ass.” you smiled at him, reconnecting your eye contact.

“She seems okay.” you lied. You were still mad about what happened at lunch, and how she told Jared about your personal life. So you didn’t care for her.

“She’s, like, obsessed with how people see her.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“You don’t seem that way.”

“I am. I really want to make friends at this school.”

“No one’s worth your time…” he paused, going into a deep thought than coming out of it. “Alana, though. She does all this shit so other people think she’s this kind person like food drives. You know, that kind of shit. But she only does it for bonus points, like, so she can put it all on her college application.” You wondered if she was a part of the Connor Project?

“I mean, at least sees doing something.”

“But she’s not sincere about any of it. She doesn’t care.” he looked really sad again. Not even sad just empty. “I'm… I’m  just gonna go.”

“Wait, Con-” and he disappeared. Then, you felt really alone.

You tried facetiming your old friends. No one was able to pick up. It was Friday. And Fridays at your old town meant bonfire nights. Ugh, it was probably the first fire of senior year, and you were missing it. You were missing all of it. You went on instagram to see all their pictures. First, you looked at the old ones. Then the newer ones. The ones showing you weren’t missed. You noticed a message.

Jared Kleinman wants to send you a message.

Ew. No.

You read it anyway.

@JaredKleinmeme: hey i realized that this has to be a rough draft by monday and we only have half of it done. So we gotta meet up over the weekend. I would say my house but my moms are redoing our floors. So idk where you wanna meet.

No way were you coming here. Connor would have a fit. But you can’t borrow he car over weekends because your mom and dad both work during the day.

You got to message back.

Do you have a car? I don’t think we can come to my house?

He typed back within seconds.

No, i don’t. My parents only let me use theirs when i go to school.

Shit. Sure we can’t do yours???

Positive

Connor only ever seems to be in your room. Maybe if you guys stayed downstairs he’d never know.

Okay. We will make mine work.

Jared came over Saturday. You guys stayed in your living room. Everything was fine until your mom left.

Jared was focused on his computer. Writing out the rough draft.

Connor appeared at the stairs.

“Oh my god!” you screamed out, making Jared jump.

“What the hell?” Jared goes to look, but you grab his head to make him look at you. He turned flush.

“Sorry! I’m still getting adjusted to this house. Sometimes I just think I see things.”

Jared gets serious, “You don’t think it’s, like…. haunted or anything.”

He’s onto you. “Jared. Stop being ridiculous. I didn’t mean it like that.” Shit. Why did you make up that excuse?

“Yeah..” he chuckled meekly. “Sorry… I’m just… paranoid. Connor didn’t like me. For valid reasons. I wasn’t exactly nice to the guy-” a crash sounded upstairs. In a flash, Jared started collecting his stuff. “I-I-I’ll finish the project at home, just don’t worry about.”

“Jared. That was just my cat! It’s fine.” you lied. You didn’t have a cat.

“I know that this is going to sound crazy, but just in case Connor is haunting your house. He probably is a vengeful ghost and will kill me. I really have to go, okay. I’ll email you the script.” he practically ran out of your house. Connor popped up right in front of you as the door shut behind Jared, causing you to stagger back surprised.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?!” he fumed.

“No! What the hell to you, Connor!” you matched his anger. “Don’t do that shit when I have people over. Jared thinks you’re haunting the house now.”

“Well, aren’t I?” he hissed, “I can’t believe you lied to me. God, literally I told you to talk to anyone but him. But not only are you his friend, you’re inviting him over to your goddamn house. Are you trying to fuck him or something. That fucking virgin probably itching you to fuck him.” Connor was completely out of hand.

“What the actual hell, Connor. What’s your fucking problem!

“Jared! Jared fucking Kleinman is my fucking problem, (Y/N)!”

“Well he’s gone, thanks for that by the way! Just an FYI, I’d never even hug Jared if my life depended on it, let alone try and have sex with him. So, drop it!”

“Then what was he doing here.”

“A project! A stupid MacBeth one.”

“You told me you were working on that with Alana?”

Shit

You story fell through. “Shit… I… You know I couldn’t have told you.”

“Why are you working with him then?”

“Because he was the only one left in the class. Are you done interrogating me? Because now i have to worry about how to tell people my house isn’t being haunted by some freak.” You froze, your hands covering your mouth as if you could shove that last word back in, pretending you never said it.

“Go fuck yourself.” He screamed his voice cracking. You couldn’t believe you let that word leave your mouth. Especially directing it at Connor. You fucked up.

You didn’t see Connor for a full week. You tried apologizing, knowing he had to be around somewhere. He was. He always was. He’d watch you at all times. He’d watch you sit and watch TV, eat dinner with your family, watch you sleep, and write in your journal. You always felt his presence, the air always felt a little colder when he was around.

You couldn’t stand not talking to him.

The following Friday came. You looked at your friends pictures online. Then, you looked at the people from your new school pictures. And then you looked in the mirror. Coming face to face with yourself. All alone. Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so alone, it started to ache. Even your parents were out doing things.

You started talking out loud. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean that. I was… I don’t even know why I said it. I don’t believe that at all. I miss talking to you. You’re the only friend I have here and I miss you so goddamn much. I’m an idiot for saying that and I should never talk again because I always screw up and I’m the worst and I’m sorry I’m the person who moved into this house because I’m just like the people at our school. I belong there, I suppose. Even though I’m an outcast, a fucking loser. I am the freak Connor.”

“I guess we are both freaks then.” he appeared next to you on your bed. How didn’t you notice the weight before.

Tears burst out, and you cried loud. “I’m so sorry. You’re not a freak.” Connor brought you into a hug. You were shocked at first, his cold exterior touching you. You slowly put your arms around him. Not wanting to go through him.

You didn’t.

You were hugging him. Touching him.

“Connor?” you muffled into his chest.

“Mhm?” his face was buried in your hair.

“How am I touching you?”

“I think I’m letting you. I don’t really know. I don’t have a ghost manual.”

“That would’ve been handy.” the two of you chuckle lightly. But yours came out really weird because you were still crying. He squeezed you tighter.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I read your diary…” you disconnect from him, staring into his eyes, bewildered.

“You did what?”

He continued. “While you were at school today. I was going through your room. And I found your black book, noticed there was writing in it. And I kind of read it all.”

“You… read… all of it?” You weren’t even mad. What you felt was worse, you were mortified.

“We never talk about your problems. I don’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way… So alone.”

You were beyond mortified. You couldn’t believe he read the entirety of your diary. “Oh god….”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not gonna tell anyone. um… I mean I can’t. You’re the only person I talk to. Because I’m dead-”

“I get it, Connor.” you squeezed the bridge of your nose, not wanting to look at him. You wrote about everything in there.

“You don’t want to… you know. Um. Commit suicide.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes. He looked so worried and sad. “Because, coming from me, it’s not at all worth it. Um, it didn’t solve anything. I almost wish I didn’t fucking do it. All I had to do was wait another year. Go to college. Pay for my own therapy. I could’ve done it. I was just so…. lost… and alone…. I couldn’t see a future. But you’re really great. You’re amazing. You’re like the best person I’ve ever met. And I wish I would’ve known you when I was alive. Maybe…. just maybe…” he quickly shut his mouth, knowing if he finished his sentence, he’d break. He turned away, knowing the tears that were welling up in his eyes were about to fall. You grabbed his hand, silently reassuring that it was okay to cry. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. You both just laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, innocently holding hands.

Both of you felt a sense of belonging for the first time in a while.

You shot up from sleeping the next morning, Connor’s body gone.

He read your diary. Fuck. You wrote about that one kid Tyler at your old school. That weird, awkward, awful sexual encounter with Tyler. Oh, my god. You’re humiliated.

He didn’t bring it up all weekend though - thank god - hopefully he never would. But then school came around Monday.

“Hey, um, (Y/N)?” a voice questioned you from behind Turning around, your eyes met Zoe Murphy’s. Shit. “I’m Zoe… er Murphy.”

“Yeah, um. I remember you. From the house sale, that is.” you stammered. Why was she talking to you.

“Oh, cool. Um, are you eating with anyone at lunch today? Because, I wanted to see if you wanted to sit with my friends and I? I’m just super confused on what we are doing in here and you seem to be the only one in class who actually knows what’s going on. And I’m trying to get in Juilliard, and I need to show them I’m not only good at playing in the Jazz band, but also at astrophysics. But if you’re busy, or sitting with other people, I totally understand.”

You shifted in your seat. You weren’t busy or sitting with others. But you didn’t want to sound pathetic. “I’m behind on some work-”

“Oh…” she looked incredibly sad. Like almost Connor-level sad. “That’s fine. Sorry, it was probably really weird for me to ask you like that-”

“No! N-no no no. It’s fine. Actually, I can sit with you! I’m not that behind.”

She smiled slightly, almost so subtly; you’d miss it if you blink. “Awesome! I sit at the first table by the window near the gym. Or, um, I could meet you-”

“Nope, I’ll just come to the table.”

“Sweet.” she nodded her head. “Um, I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… Um, for sure.” you said with weak excitement. Zoe waved and walked in the opposite direction.

What does she want now? People just don’t invite others to randomly sit with them. . Especially not the girl who moved into your old house who hangs out with your dead brother. Unless of course if you’re Alana and you wanted something out of it. Did Zoe want something more than a lesson in astrophysics from you?

The first half of the day dragged on, you not really being there entirely because your thoughts kept drifting off to Zoe, or Connor, or Jared, Alana, or even Evan. Didn’t Jared say something about Evan dating Zoe, and Connor said something about a mean note from Evan. Nothing made sense. You weren’t just a step behind, you were a full mile.

Lunch finally came, and you found Zoe right away. She was watching the door for you to come. There were a few of her friends at the table. They all smiled and said hi when you sat down. You caught none of their names. Zoe forced a conversation out of you. She kind of reminded you of your old friends: nice, pretty, talkative, cool without trying. You told her that. She smiled bigger, almost more subtly. In the middle of your explanation of spectroscopy, she interrupted you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing after school?”

Hanging out with your dead brother. You decided to go with: “Um, nothing I can think of.” instead.

“Cool. Um, do you wanna maybe hang out after? Um, we can get coffee? If you uh, like coffee.” she asked, you couldn’t help but to think it was a trap.

“I do, I do. But I have to get the car back for my mom in time for her to go to work-”

“I could pick you up. I mean, I know where you live.” she tried chuckling.

You didn’t know how to get out of this one. And a small part of you yearned for any type of friendship between the living. “Uh… are you sure? I could ask if my mom could just drop me off?”

Zoe reassured you, “No! No, it’s fine. It’s not out of the way.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna go right after school?”

“Do you actually just wanna follow me to my, er, the house?” you felt weird using personal pronouns when it previously belonged to her. She nodded, not bothered by it though.

You regretted it as soon as you made the official plan. This was gonna be weird.

This was weird.

Zoe followed behind, even though she knew the way better, she probably knew the back roads. You parked the car in the driveway, and quickly got in hers. She was staring at the house, looking at Connor’s room window.

“I live in that one.” Pointing at her old room, knowing it was hers, to distract her from Connor.

“That was mine!” She says excited. “The closet’s really nice.”

You forced out a laugh, sounding real enough. “I know! I love it. Most of my clothes are still in boxes because I’m just too lazy to put them all away.”

“No way! Me too. More than half of them are still in tubs on my floor. My mom is so annoyed by it. She’ll probably hang them up soon if I don’t.”

“My mom would never do that. She’s been in my room once. Maybe twice. She doesn’t really care what I do.” Zoe frowns at this. “N-not like she doesn’t care about me or anything. Just like what I do. I have more freedom than I know what to do with?”

“Oh… That’s actually really cool. Do you want to come to a party on Friday then?” Zoe blurted out, feeling like she had been too forward.  

“Um…” you hadn’t been to a party since your old town. What were these parties like. How do you dress? How do you act here?

“You could come over to my house, er, new house and get ready with me and the girls.” she made it sound appealing. This was a chance to meet friends.

“Yeah. Um, I’ll think about it.” Or this was a chance for everyone to find you weird. You were caught in the middle of your two-sided thoughts.

“Cool.” she stated pulling into the coffee shop. “I go here all the time. They have really good Matcha Tea. I’m not a huge coffee or tea person, but Matchas really good.”

The two of you went in, ordered (both getting Matcha, Zoe was right, it was really good), and sat down. It was odd at first. It felt like an awkward blind date that neither party wanted to be there. But after a while, you warmed up. You told her all about your old town, school, and friends. She told you about your new town, your school, and her friends.

“What are parties like here, anyway?” you gushed. “I’ve only been to parties where I know everyone. We play pong, drink, couples hookup in bathrooms, and then everyone talks about it at school the following Monday on who won at pong, who got blackout, and who had sex.”

She laughed wholeheartedly, “It’s basically the same. But we play flip cup.”

“Shit, I don’t know the rules for that.”

“Don’t worry. It’s easier than pong. Just watch what the people do before you.”

You both laugh, having genuine fun. She didn’t ask anything from you. Or use you for her advantage.

Something was off.

But you left it alone. She drove you home. It was around 8. You knew you had to work on some homework before bed, even through her protests. She told you to keep sitting with her at lunch, if you wanted to. You agreed.

You walked into your house smiling.

“Why was Zoe’s car in front of the house?”

Connor asked, scaring you half to death the minute you entered your room.

“God. You need to stop just popping up. You’re going to give me a heart-attack.”

“What? So you wanna hang out with her now? Are you sick of me? Did she tell you things about me. All the terrible things I did to her? Did you talk about me? No, that’d be ridiculous. She’d think you were crazy.”

There Connor went off again, rambling out his anxieties. “Slow down, Connor. We didn’t talk about you at all. You didn’t even come up.”

“Of course I didn’t, why would she talk about me. She’s probably glad I’m gone.

“That’s not true at all. The day… The Anniversary. She was crying in school. And she just looks sad all the time.” his face fell with even more grief. “Not like… ‘All the time’, like just when she thinks about you.”

“I thought you guys didn’t talk about me.”

“We didn’t. Sometimes you can just tell.”

“She wants something, (Y/N).”

“Like what. If she did, she would’ve asked today, not asked if I wanted to sit with her at lunch or go to this stupid party on Friday.”

“You’re going to a party? Who’s house?”

“Maybe… and I don’t know? I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Don’t. Nothing ever good happens at party.”

“Are you, like, a party expert?” you ridiculed.

“Shut up. I’ve heard what happens.”

“I’m headstrong, Murphy. Now get out, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you change before…” he said nonchalantly.

You turned red, “What!?” you hissed.

“I thought you knew I was there. You just walked in and threw off your shirt and pants.”

“Oh my god.” you held your head in your hands.

“ I tried to leave, but i still have to open doors to get to places. A common misconception about ghosts by the way. Or I just haven’t figured it out yet…” he didn’t realize your embarrassment, continuing to ramble.

You cut him off, “You’ve seen me naked?” you exclaimed.

“No! Just bra and underwear! Not full on. Not like Tyler.”

“Tyler?” you asked confused, then it hit you. “Oh my god!” You run to your bed, burrowing your face from all the humiliation. “Get out, you perv!” You shouted, throwing a pillow through him. “Wait how can things go through you if you can’t go through them?”

“Exactly what you said. Things can go through me, but I can’t go through them. Or at least I haven’t figured it out.”

You didn’t actual care at that moment, your distress taking over of all other worries. “Oh my god. Just get out.” you groaned, huffing into a body pillow.

He laughed as he closed the door, letting you get changed. “Lemme know when you’re done.”

You wait a minute, making sure you can’t sense him in your room. He may have been lying about the whole he couldn’t go through things. That’s when you decided. You were definitely only going to change  in your closet from now on.

Friday came. Sitting with Zoe at lunch was a lot of fun. She never brought up Connor or the house. I mean, why would she bring Connor up to you? To her knowledge, you don’t know him. You went home and immediately started getting ready for the party.

“Are you really going to that stupid fucking thing.” Connor groaned.

“Yes.” you mumbled, doing your hair in your mirror.

“Wouldn’t you rather hang out with me.” he huffed, lying on your bed, reading something.

“We hang out every day.” You looked over at him, realizing your diary was in his hands. “S-stop reading that.” you turned red, getting up and tackling him, trying to get it out of his hands. He held his one arm out, using the other to gently stop you. Your whole body was basically straddling him. Then, he turned red. Well, as much color as a ghost could get. You finally retrieved it, not noticing his bashfulness. “Ha!” you announced. Closing the book and putting in back on your bookshelf.

Connor just fell back on your bed, just staring at you. He never noticed how your hair framed your face, or how your eyes got all sparkling when you were happy, or how the corners or your mouth would twitch up when you blushed, revealing subtle dimples.

“What are you looking at. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” you joked, laughing at it yourself.

“Stay here. With me.” he asked vulnerable.

You paused, his tone throwing you off. You shook it off. “Come on, Con. You know I gotta go out and seem social. People are gonna start to think that I’m staying home all the time to hang out with my only friend, who’s a ghost.” You’d never called him Con before. He liked it.

“Not a chance people are going to start thinking that…” he smiled, finding that scenario completely ridiculous. And finding you completely perfect.

“I’ll be home tomorrow! All day, and we can play video games or watch movies downstairs when my parents leave.”

“Why do that tomorrow? When you could do that tonight?” Connor kept trying. You walked over to him, giving him the ever so lightest peck on his forehead. His stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. He got that saying now.

“Tomorrow, Connor. I promise.” A beep came out from outside. “That’s your sister. I gotta go. How do I look?”

“Perfect.” he said glumly, but he meant it fully.

“I’m serious, Connor.”

“Me too…” you looked at him funny. “Go, she’s going to honk again. She’s the most impatient person ever.”

“Okay, okay.” you stood before the mirror, brushing your hair in the front, then to the back, then to the front again. Letting out a big, nervous sigh, then heading toward the door. “Bye-bye Murphy. Don’t have too much fun without me!” you called out, your door slamming shut behind you. Connor looked out the window. He meet eyes with Zoe, who was staring straight at her old room window, making what seemed like eye-contact with him. He basically ducked to the floor.

Once you got in the car, Zoe seemed panicked. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you good.”

She quickly faked a smile, “Yeah! No, I’m good! We gotta pick up the rest of the girls.” Something was up with her.

The night sped by. You got the girls, went back to Zoe’s, touched up hair and makeup, and went to the party. It was actually only like three blocks away from your house. You were all immediately handed shots as soon as you guys walked through the door. And then a red solo cup of beer. And then a mixed drink. This house party was a lot bigger than the ones back home. You had to drink more to feel comfortable, and you sort of blacked out. Coming in and out of consciousness. At one point you were playing flip cup (and dominating), then you were doing a beer bong with Zoe (the girl somehow beat you there, not coming across as the drinking type), then you ended up in a bathroom. On a counter. With your legs and arms around some guy. Who was making out with you. What the heck were you doing.

“Connor?” You drunkenly said.

“No, er, Jared.” that sobered you up. You shoved him off, crossing your arms.

“Oh, my God. No.” you wiped off your mouth. “Hell, no. What the fuck Jared?”

“You started making out with me first. Why the hell did you just call me Connor.” Shit. Why did you call him Connor. You jumped off the counter and stormed out of the room. Someone grabbed you by the shoulder.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you.” Zoe slurred. You tried focusing on her face, but it was spinning.

“Listen, Zoe. I gotta go home.” you said back, definitely slurring your words too.

“No! You can’t!”

“Yeah, I gotta the other girls are here. You’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. I need to ask you about Conmor.” She mispronounced his name, somehow slurring an M into it.

“What do you mean. I didn’t know him Zoe.” you said nervously

“No. You do. Jared told Alana that you said you see things. And there was a bang in your house and you pretended it was a cat. But you’ve never talked about a cat before. It was like you were trying to cover up. And you kept asking questions.”

“No. No it’s not like that. I just see the posters every day.”

“I saw him, (Y/N)! And you just remind me of him. Like, not like you’re mean but like, I don’t know, your humor. Like, you say things Connor would from time to time. And sometimes, I swear you smell like him. It’s like you talk to him. And I saw him, (y/n), in your room.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. You were in deep shit. Everyone is going to think of you as a fucking ghost whisperer. You had to fix it.

You started laughing, cackling.

“Zoe. Are you serious right now? Are you that drunk? We gotta find you a bed. God, you’re a treat. I haven’t laughed this hard since my old town. Wow.” you pretended to wipe a tear from your eye, humming out the last bit of fake laughs. “I’ll see you Monday.” You turned around and your smirk fell. You had to get out of there. You stumbled down the stairs. Looking for where you came in. Why does being drunk make you lose motor control and your sense of direction?

You somehow made it out and you were walking back home, tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t even realized you made it inside until you had to throw up. You bolted upstairs, going to bathroom and letting all the different kinds of alcohol up from your stomach into the toilet bowl

“(Y/N)?” You rose your head up. Shit, was that your dad.

“Occupied, Dad.” you called out, feeling like that didn’t sound drunk at all. It sounded very drunk.

“Let me in, it’s Connor. Your parents aren’t here.”

“No. I’m gross right now.” you whined out. You were too drunk to talk to him. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Who the fuck am I going to tell. The dead bugs in your window?”

“I don’t care about who you tell. I’m scared of what you’ll think of me.” There was a pause. “Connor?”

“Let me in, (Y/N).” he said so gently and nice, that itself almost made you blush. You crawl over to the door, using the knob to pick you up and then unlock it, not even realizing you locked it in the first place. Connor opened it slowly, peeking his head in as if we didn’t want to startle you. You leaned against the wall, pointing a finger at him.

“I drank a lot.” you confessed, trying to smile and act not as drunk as you were.

“Yeah, I can smell it. Are you ok-” you interrupt his sentence by running to the toilet. He followed behind, holding your hair behind you. He saw that in a movie once. He patted your back, which made you smile into the toilet.

“Isn’t it gross that we put our face so close to the toilet when we puke.” you joked, which did derive a laugh about of him.

“You’re drunk, (Y/N).”

“I know.” you lean your head against the toilet set. “Will you help me up? I wanna brush my teeth and gargle.” Connor complied, helping you up by the waist and leading you over to the sink. You got your blue tooth brush and started brushing.

“Uh, (Y/N)… You forgot the toothpaste.” he shyly told you. You started to laugh.

“Oh yeah, can you help?” he picked up the toothpaste for you and squeezed (a lot) on. Round two: you started brushing again. Making a lot of toothpaste foam. Connor just laughed. Looking at you in the mirror, only slightly annoyed he couldn’t see himself. Even like this, with all that shit dripping out of your mouth, you still looked pretty to him. He wondered what he looked like. It this state he’s in. He noticed he still had the scars on his wrists. He couldn’t help but wonder about his neck. He couldn’t help to think it’d be unfair for him to be able to look at you all the time and you had to look at the mess he was.

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Connor.”

“Mhm?”

“Stop staring at me. You’re making me self-conscious.” you blushed madly in the mirror. He looked away, allowing you to spit all the toothpaste out of your mouth. You slowly turned the water on, missing the handle the first try, and rinsed you mouth off. You took the Listerine and just started drinking it. Connor quickly took it away from you. You gargles the rest of what you had in your mouth as Connor reached for the cup. You almost spit all over his arm, if he wasn’t able to let stuff go through him.

“I’m glad you a ghost in that instance. Because that would’ve sucked.” He noted you said instance, but didn’t say anything. He walked you to your room, “How many people can say there dead best friend helps their drunk selves out. Zero. I win!” you giggled.

Connor rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be hung over tomorrow.”

“Nooooo…” you retort, as if you were a child.

He sniggered, “We aren’t going to be able to play games or watch movies. Guess I’m going to have to read your diary again.”

“Connor! Anything but that. I’ll stay awake. The less drunk I am when I go to sleep, the less hung over I’ll be. Science.” you told him, realizing the two of you were on your bed.

“No, you should go to sleep. The longer you sleep, the less hung over you’ll be. That’s Science.”

“But I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

“And why’s that.”

“Because I want to talk to you more.”

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“No.” You rise up, your face getting close to Connors. “I wanna talk now.” you whisper.

“A-about.” Connor stammered out. You were so close to him. He’d never been this close to anyone.

“Everything…” you close the distance, placing your lips on his. He’d never kissed anyone before. He never thought he would when he was dead. He kissed back for a split second, until he remembered.

He was dead. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let you kiss a fucking dead person. He was probably cold and disgusting. He broke the kiss.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked, creating unwanted distance between the two of you.

“Why did you do that.” Connor hissed, getting up and pacing.

“I don’t know. I’m- I’m sorry. I’m drunk.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Connor jumped up and stomped out the door, disappearing mid-shut.

You were mortified. Your thoughts raced, thinking of everything that happened, until you passed out from all the alcohol.

~part ii~ https://restoftheworldfallsaway.tumblr.com/post/163932770030/beetlejuice-part-2-connor-murphy-x-reader

Just got back from Power Rangers (2017) and Im

Yes.

“Boyfriend trouble?”
“…Yeah. Boyfriend trouble”
“…Girlfriend trouble?”

ZACK YOU SWEET OPEN MINDED BOY

Also Jason’s dad probably called him a ‘screw up’ because that sounded pretty repeated to me

Please protect all versions of Billy Cranston, whether movie version or 90’s. THE WAY HE CLAPS WHEN EXCITED WAS SO PURE.

Rita Repulsa was also FUCKING TERRIFYING. Reminder Rita is not a dentist.

Sequels are coming. I can feel it. But how tf would Tommy even appear without the green power coin tho.

Anyways I’m dead. 10/10.

the days upended

deancas reunion. hugs. 1300 wc [on AO3]


When his phone powers up with a missed call from Jack, Dean delegates his voicemail duties by tossing the cell at Sam. They’re forty miles out from the bunker yet, aching and too damn old hauling back from this type of bruiser case. Whatever the kid is burning to tell them can wait for another half hour, Dean figures, at least until Sam plays the voicemail and then plays it again, and again, sitting up a little straighter each time.

Sam stares at the phone, pounds a key and lifts it to his ear, listening with a dead-eye stare. Dean elbows him for an explanation but Sam hesitates to pass it along, mumbling something about waiting until Dean’s not driving.

Dean flexes his split knuckles on the wheel. “Spit it out, Sammy.”

Face ashen, Sam answers, “He says Cas is there,” and damn if that doesn’t make Dean rage.

Keep reading

lukerchomai  asked:

Hi Cassie, how are you? I want to tell you that I love you and your books so much. They gave me so much emotions and I will never thank you enough for this. I just want to ask you one question about Sebastian. He's my favorite character ever and I miss him so much. Is there any chance to see him again? Is there any chance for him to come back to life? Please answer me, I love you!

He isn’t going to rise from the dead. But there’s all sorts of ways we can see characters who have passed on, again. 

Originally posted by techcat

“John. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want you to know that … that I miss you. My life … it’s empty without you. This reminds me of the time when I was away. But … back then I didn’t have to see you like … like this. Please come back, John. Please.”

“Hello, John. It’s officially summer now. Congrats. You’re in coma for exactly one month now … Mrs. Hudson is here too. But don’t worry. It’s nothing too bad. She fell down a few stairs and has a bruised hip. But she will be okay. She said, as soon as she is up again, she will visit you. She’s tough. You’re tough too, John. Come back now, please …”

“John. I cried a lot today. I’m … I’m not afraid to admit it. You see? I’m talking about my emotions. That’s good, isn’t it? I should have talked about them much sooner. With you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m so difficult …”

“I miss you, John. Please come back. I’ll make you tea. I promise.”

“Hello John. I went shopping today! Alone. For the first time since … a long time. It was annoying. And … I panicked a bit when someone accidentally touched me from behind. But I did it. I’m good, you see? Can you come back now? Please?”

“I bought you a new jumper. You’ll like it. Do you want to see it? Then open your eyes now!”

“John! Stop this now. You’re boring, you know? You’re still playing dead? Come back! …
Fuck …”

“John. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we’ve met. I’ll always love you. It hurts. It hurts all the time. But that won’t make me stop loving you.
Is that crazy? Am I crazy? … I don’t care. I love you. Please come back.”

*

“Sher … Sherlock?”

Those Three Little Words (Steve Harringon)

Steve Harrington x Reader


I wrote this because I don’t have any requests to fill and I thought I was maybe a good concept, so idk enjoy!!!


It was six months after the gate was closed, it was six months after Bob Newby got eaten by demodogs, it was six months after Steve almost got killed at the hands of Billy and the nightmares still hadn’t gotten any better. Through the whole world saving adventure you fell in love with Steve Harrington, though he really didn’t know that yet. Yes, you had gotten together at some points after closing the gate, but you had never said those three little words. You knew that it would be hard for Steve, so you never pushed. You were always content with the unspoken agreement of love that had existed between you two.


One weekend you had the unfortunate job of watching your little brother, Dustin, while your mom was out of town on a business trip. Well watch wasn’t the right word, since your mom wasn’t exactly in on the whole upside down thing she wanted to make sure that Dustin didn’t go missing the way his friend Will did all that time ago. One of the only positives of this job was that Steve and Dustin were close, like brotherly bond close. It was really adorable, it was seeing this sort of thing that made you think about the future a lot. How if you and Steve were together forever there would be no unhappiness in your family as your mother loved Steve because of how happy he made you and how he gave Steve a male role model.


Dustin was sat on the floor of the living room when the doorbell rang, even though he was less than 10 feet from the door he shouted at the top of his lungs, “Y/N! Could you get the door?”


“Yes, anything else sir,” you replied in a sarcastic tone as you made your way over to the door.


“An orange soda would be divine,” He replied, not detecting the sarcasm as he was engrossed in his game.


“You do have legs you know,” You said just as you opened the door to uncover Steve, “Steveie!!” You shouted, jumping to hug him.


As Steve spun you around you heard a quiet “Barf” come from behind you.


“Shut up Dustin” You said.


“Hey babe,” Steve said flashing an adorable grin, “I’ve missed you.”


“I’ve missed you too.” You replied.


“You saw each other 3 hours ago.” Dustin interjected. “Shit shit shit shit shit, I lost, your couplely grossness made me lose. Thanks a lot.”


“You say that now,” Steve stated, walking in an settling on the floor next to Dustin, “but once you get Jessica, you’ll change your mind.”


“Who’s Jessica?” You questioned in a teasing tone.


“No one.” Dustin replied curtly, shooting a dangerous look a Steve. Steve just laughed.


———


As the night went on many movies were watched and many rounds of monopoly were played. You won of course, but not without argument from Steve. It was nearing midnight and Dustin was practically asleep on the couch.

“Alight come on Dusty get up,” He made a small noise of protest, but eventually stood. You lead him to his room, “Night Dustin”

You shut the door and heard a groan that could be deciphered as “Night Y/N”.


You walked back out to the living room to see Steve sitting on the couch, you walked over and sat down next to him. His arm wrapping around your shoulders. “He’s a good kid,” He said as you leaned against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

“Yeah, He’s something” you mumbled, honestly too tired to muster a full response.


“Ooh looks like someone’s tired, come on, let’s go” Steve urged, trying to stand. You only wrapped your arms around his neck and said, “nooooooooo”


“Come on I’ll see you tomorrow, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner I get to see you again,” Steve said, standing up, dragging you with him.


He walked you to your room, dislike your protests, you climbed into your bed and Steve began,”Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow?”


“Yeah,” you answered, falling into the clutches of sleep. Steve nodded and began to walk away from your bed slowly. You grabbed his hand and said, “stay.”


The boy smilies and said, “Anything for you princess.”


————-


You were cold, Steve had just been knocked out, the demodogs we’re coming. There was no chance of survival. You had to leave Steve behind or risk everyone’s lives. You tried to get him up. He wasn’t knocked out he was dead. You were sobbing and screaming. “Please don’t leave me, I need you” you cried. “I love you, I’ll love you so much, please!” You screams turned to whispers as you were awoken from your slumber.


When you opened your eyes, you could feel tears trailing down your face, and felt a pair of arms wrapped around you. “Shhhhhhhh, it’s okay, I’m here it’s okay” you heard, coming from the figure next to you. “Shhhhhh, we’re okay, everything’s fine” the voice continued.


You looked at Steve and just hugged him, so tight. “I thought you were dead, I thought you left me, and there wasn’t anything I could do.” You explained, your sobs retiring at the thought of the dream.


Steve pushed back and looked you straight in your eyes, “I would never leave you.”


Involuntarily your blurted, “I love you.” You we’re immediacy hit with a pang of fear. What if he didn’t love you back, what if you’d scared him off. What if you had just made a huge mistake.


Moments later he placed a hand on the side of your face and kissed you. You returned the kiss, pushing your hands back into his perfect hair. It was quick, but it left you breathless. When you pulled away he said, “I love you too.”


———-


The rest of the night, if you could even call it that, consisted of cuddling and little naps that were interrupted by stolen kisses.


When you both walked out of your room to go to the kitchen, Dustin was carrying a bowl of cereal to the table. When he saw you both walk out and almost spilled milk all over the floor.


You gasped and looked back at Steve, who was no help, as he was laughing his ass off. “Please don’t tell mom, I can explain” you rushed to say.


“Nope, I won’t, I don’t wanna know,” he said cringing, “leave my presence.”


“Thanks Dusty, but if you say a word I’ll tell mom about Jessica!” You threatened and you grabbed Steve’s hand and dragged him to the living room, in the best mood you’d been in in a while.


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anonymous asked:

I don't get this sudden trend to undermine and tear down Jon and Daenerys' past relationships. Sounds to me like it's coming from a place of insecurity. The ships with Drogo and Ygritte were problematic in some ways but Jonerys is too in others. I for one found Jon/Ygritte more pleasing/interesting. She had great spunk and sense of humor. She was playful and laid back which played off Jon's sullen attitude, balanced it out well. Both he and Dany are so stiff and serious, it's an overkill.

Cool story. No one’s worried about Drogo or Ygritte except the ones who can’t accept they’re the past. Jon and Dany are each other’s present and future. Ygritte is dead, Drogo is dead. Move on already. You’re complaining about people undermining their past relationships yet you’re doing the exact same thing by comparing them to what Jon/Dany have now. I don’t care if you personally like Ygritte more, that doesn’t make her Jon’s destiny or the love of his life. Both of those relationships came from a need to survive: Jon needed the wildings to trust he’d abandoned all his vows and Dany had to learn to love Drogo so she wouldn’t kill herself. They both made the best of their circumstances when they had very little choice.

What many of you fail to realize is that Jon and Dany chose each other. They’re not forced into it. They’re two people who’ve met, found a connection and formed a bond and that’s where their love springs from. They don’t have to compromise who they are to be together. This is clearly shown in the books:

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone. He did not want to die alone. (Jon V, ASOS)

Jon may have loved Ygritte but he could never fully be himself with her. His disconnection to Ghost is blatant evidence of that. If anything Jon and Dany’s relationship is the one where they can be the truest version of themselves. Jon loved Ygritte but he was never his real self, how can that possibly be true love? He had to survive and when he could finally break free from her, she tried to kill him. And don’t get me started on how toxic and unhealthy Dany’s affection for Drogo was:

Every night, some time before the dawn, Drogo would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlessly as he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he would close his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.

Day followed day, and night followed night, until Dany knew she could not endure a moment longer. She would kill herself rather than go on, she decided one night… (Daenerys, AGOT)

Few things make me more sick than that passage. Imagine thinking her love for him was anything but an instinct for survival, the same that it was for Jon with Ygritte. Instead of people complaining about these relationships being undermined, it’s time to see them for what they really were. It’s interesting it took Dany having to say out loud that she was raped by Drogo for people to register what actually happened to her. It’s sad and what bothers me the most about people shitting on Jon/Dany is that they won’t acknowledge that this is a relationship of choice and that what they’ve individually been through has prepared them for each other. GRRM has painstakingly created two characters with shared experiences and parallel arcs that are supposed to converge. It is destiny.

Also saying Jonerys is stiff and serious is ridiculous because it ignores the context of their courtship. They are playing roles, a king and queen negotiating an alliance while navigating their growing feelings for each other is going to be different than what we’ve seen from them before. I’m just tired of people not recognizing this and thinking it’s a lack of chemistry or a rushed storyline. It is in fact very deliberate. Lastly, I don’t care whether you like this relationship or not but there isn’t a single Jonerys shipper who spends most of their time talking about Ygritte and Drogo. Y’all are the ones who feel the need to bring them up as some sort of competition and if that’s the case, I’m afraid you’ve already lost.