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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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The Night Shift (pt. 2) (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie has taken the job as the overnight cook at Lou’s Diner, where you work as the overnight waitress. Attraction slowly grows between you, despite both your best efforts.

Part 1 Part 3

The aches in your body when you woke were familiar. What wasn’t familiar was the wailing of the fire alarm, cutting through the beautiful numbness of sleep. You groaned and curled up tighter beneath your blanket, bleary eyes searching for the time on your alarm clock. After only two hours of sleep, if that, and if that was a real fire alarm and not a drill . . . well, you decided you’d take your chances with the fire.

The alarm blared for another few minutes before falling mercifully silent, allowing you to slip back into a fitful, broken sleep that when you finally woke again, left you feeling more tired than you had been when you had gone to bed that morning.

You sighed as you saw the mess left in the kitchen by Ethan. Crumbs on the counter, a frypan caked in remnants of scrambled egg and bacon grease, the butter left out and open, a feast for the ants. God knew that would be yet another argument with him if you left it all for him to clean when he got home from work. So, you set to work, throwing out the ant-infested butter and scrubbing gently at the frypan. You wouldn’t have minded cleaning, if it had just been your mess, or if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence by this point.

After you were done, you were less hungry than when you had started and had only a few minutes to eat before you had to start getting ready.

You were halfway through your own breakfast/dinner of reheated lasagne when your phone buzzed on the counter, lighting up with a text.

Ethan: going to marks after work so cant drive u tonite

Instantly you felt annoyance curl itself through your body, creating a pit in your stomach. Before you could respond with a paragraph, another message came through.

Ethan: sent u $$ for the bus

You bit your lip, taking a few breaths in, you deleted the angry paragraph and instead sent two words.

You: okay thanks

There was really no point in working yourself up into a bad mood; you knew from experience that it would just sour the whole night. In the past several years you had become an expert at quashing the negative feelings when they arose.

All it really took was a countdown from ten and the occasional breakdown in the privacy of your shower. As far as you were concerned it was the perfect formula for contentedness. Even if it did feel difficult to breathe sometimes, it was better than being actively miserable.

The moon was starting to rise as you walked to the bus stop, cold air nipped at your bare legs a not-so-gentle reminder to invest in some new fleece stockings before winter truly set in. At least your jacket, sherpa-lined denim, was the kind of thing that would last several lifetimes.

Lou’s was only a fifteen-minute bus ride away, which really wasn’t too bad if you were trying to stay optimistic. You weren’t trying to stay optimistic though, and after a day of broken sleep, a dirty kitchen, and stepping in what you were pretty sure was a puddle of human piss on the floor of the bus, your attempt to stay positive was starting to feel like more of an effort than it was worth.

“You okay, honey?” Mari, one of the day waitresses, shot you a concerned look as you shrugged your jacket off and shoved it under the counter.

“I’m fine,” you said. And you were; if you told yourself enough that you were fine then you would be. You were so wrapped up in making yourself okay that you didn’t even notice the stranger stepping behind the counter. It was only when he made his way past you into the kitchen did your head snap up to peer at him through the window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the diner.

He was handsome, in an almost rugged, tired way. Dark hair poked up in curls from underneath a cap that cast the top half of his face in shadow under the harsh fluorescents, but you could still make out a large curved nose and scruffy facial hair.

“Who are you?”

The man looked up at you, adjusting his cap so you could see his eyes.

Oh wow. He had nice eyes. Really nice eyes . The kind of eyes that reminded you of sleeping in a shady spot on a warm summer day, that looked like melted chocolate. The kind of eyes that radiated comfort.

“Frankie,” he said, seemingly equally perplexed by you, “who are you?”

“June,” you said, mentally kicking yourself. How could you have forgotten about this guy starting tonight? You would’ve baked, cookies or muffins or something, to get started on the right foot and make him feel welcome.

“ You’re June?” Frankie asked. You nodded, feeling almost defensive. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting someone so-” He stopped and shrugged. “Just wasn’t expecting you.”

You raised an eyebrow and turned back to your coffee, wondering what the hell Manny had said about you to warrant a wasn’t expecting you . You. Had he been expecting someone prettier? Someone who looked like they had their shit together and slept more than four hours at a time? You knew your name was old-fashioned; you felt like you were the only person under seventy who had the name. Maybe he was expecting an old lady? Still, his tone left you feeling prickly, something you probably wouldn’t have been if you weren’t exhausted and hungry.

You turned away from him towards a trio of gangly teen girls, each holding their own copy of Wuthering Heights and laptops. You had grown rather fond of the trio in the past few months, recognizing your own teen self in each of them, from the awkward way they moved to the way they dissolved into giggles whenever a semi-attractive guy entered the diner.

“Is it a good one?” you asked, nodding your head to the book. The girls sat in the usual booth, which had a clear view into the kitchen. You suspected they chose it specifically because of that view, a fact that Manny had preened at when you mentioned it to him.

“It’s okay,” one of the girls, Jules you remembered, said with a shrug. “Heathcliffe is kinda pissing me off.” You hadn’t read Wuthering Heights , but you had heard the Kate Bush song enough times to know it by heart, and really that was just as good.

“Hey, who’s the new guy?” another girl, Emily, asked, nodding slightly to the kitchen. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Frankie focused on the grill. You told them his name.

“It’s his first night, so go easy if the burgers aren’t up to scratch.”

Jules giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “He’s cute.”

“Is he?” you said.

“You know who he kinda looks like?” the third girl, Zoe, piped up. You shook your head. “The guy from Narcos!”

“I haven’t seen it,” you shrugged. You didn’t really have the time or energy to invest yourself in new shows, or really any kind of media. Twelve-hour work days and what limited time off you had while you were also awake was usually spent cooking or cleaning or mindlessly scrolling through your phone, lacking the energy to use more than a quarter of your brain.

The trio made you promise to watch it at some point, if only for the eye candy, and you drifted off to the next table.

Settling yourself into the familiar rhythm of the night shift, you felt some of your frustrations from earlier dissipate as the routine began to take hold and calm you.

Frankie hummed along to the radio as he worked, keeping a steady pace and a clear head. Manny had warned him that sometimes things could get hectic out of nowhere, and the last thing anyone needed was for him to get overwhelmed.

Lucky for him, almost a decade in the military had taught him to stay cool under pressure. Ice in the veins , Benny Miller would say.

June barely spoke to him as she worked, seeming to prefer to make conversation over coffee with the regulars. Occasionally snippets of conversation would reach his ears, but it was mostly mundane chat about families and work.

Frankie wondered if he had done something to upset her if he had somehow offended her in less than twenty words. It was possible - he wasn’t exactly a poet, and he seemed have a habit of sticking his foot in his mouth without even realising. It was something that the boys had picked up on and ribbed on him about.

“Coffee?” the voice knocked him out of his thoughts. Frankie looked up and saw June leaning against the window.

“What?”

“Do you want coffee?” June asked. “It’s settled down so it’s a good time to get some caffeine if you drink it.”

Frankie nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Just black is fine.”

June wrinkled her nose but set the chipped white mug on the ledge of the window. Frankie watched as she turned away again and began to count the change in the til. Her lips moved rapidly with silent calculations as she did, bagging coins and notes with quick, practiced efficiency and tucking them into a safe under the counter.

Frankie took a sip of the coffee, pleasantly surprised to find it tasted better than regular diner coffee. Did she use a special kind of bean? Maybe it was just his body craving the caffeine more intensely than usual. It was already past his normal bedtime, and although he had been sleeping during the day for the past week in order to prepare, practicing staying up all night and actually doing it were two very different things.

Frankie stifled a yawn, his eyes watering as he did.

“It gets easier,” June said. She was leaning against the counter, polishing milkshake glasses with a rag, watching him with what he assumed was mild curiosity. “It sucks and you feel like dying for the first couple weeks, but you’ll get used to it.”

“You promise?”

June nodded, the corners of her mouth quirking into the tiniest of smiles. “If you don’t quit after a week, then yeah, I pinky swear.”

Frankie felt almost reassured by her words - maybe he hadn’t stuck his foot in as badly as he thought? He went to say something else, maybe a joke about holding her to it, but June had already turned away and was greeting a group of night construction workers.

Two new order tickets came in; one was obviously for the construction workers, which was mainly burgers and fries. The second was simply for an omelet, with a small note written underneath that said; no rush, just when you’re not busy, please .

He realised with a start that it was almost one-thirty, and it had been almost ten hours since he had last eaten. This wouldn’t have been a problem if he hadn’t thought about it; but now he had it was all he could think about. His stomach cramped with the demand of it.

So when he finished the order for the construction workers, he set to work making two omelets, one for her and one for him.

Fuck. Frankie made a really good omelet. Like, ridiculously good. It almost pissed you off; how were you supposed to tell Manny you had found an egg to rival his?

You checked your phone as you ate, figuring it was quiet enough that you could have a few minutes of reprieve. Your face twisted into a scowl as you read through your messages, all from Ethan, all sent between ten-thirty and eleven.

Ethan: did u seriously not do the laundry??

Ethan: u knew i needed clean clothes this week

Ethan: are u fukin stupid?? Or do u just not care about me??

Ethan: literally uve just wrecked the entire schedule i had this week so thanks. Make sure its done before i get home from work tomorrow, and dont wake me when u get home, i have to stay up late to make sure it’s done bcoz of u and i have to go to work tomorrow with dirty clothes bcoz of u.

You felt sick with regret reading his messages, knowing him well enough to know how angry he would have been. You had forgotten to do the laundry; between the terrible sleep you had and having to clean the kitchen, it had completely slipped your mind. You went to message him an apology but stopped yourself. It would only make him angrier to be reminded of how careless you had been.

“You okay?”

Frankie was looking at you, his face a mask of concern.

He doesn’t really care. He’s probably just nosy. Nobody actually cares.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine . The words were a mantra, repeated often as needed. Whenever Ethan’s anger would bubble to the surface, whenever he would text you in a rage, whenever he would scream and punch the wall and throw things. You repeated the words to yourself. It could always be worse; at least he didn’t hit you. And it reassured you when you repeated those two little words to yourself, and it would be fine. The Ethan you knew would come back for a month or two, and things would be fucking glorious. He would be all the things you knew he was; sweet and gentle and doting, showering you with love and gifts and assurances of trying to get better. It was all you needed.

That morning when your shift finally ended, you decided to walk home rather than taking the bus again. You hoped quietly that by the time you got home Ethan would have left for work and you could continue to avoid the yelling match that had been brewing between the two of you. You didn’t have the energy or the heart for it.

“I’ll see you tonight?” You asked, shrugging your jacket on.

Frankie nodded, pulling his keys from his jean pocket. “Not if I see you first.”

You raised your eyebrow at this, unsure how to reply. “Okay, well, um, goodnight.”

“Night, June.”

When you realised you liked the way your name sounded in his mouth, you quickly turned and left. Whatever that was, that feeling , you needed to quash it. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a childish crush.

#the night shift #frankie x reader #frankie morales #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader

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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years

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The Fifth Lord: Chapter 4

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu and (Fem!Dragon)Reader [non-romantic], Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Dragon)Reader

Summary: Your name is Y/n Dracul; The only ‘mutant’ that doesn’t have the Cadou Parasite. You already have some sort of power that impressed Mother Miranda; you were the first known Human-Dragon Hybrid. Although you have your own house, “House Dracul”. Your ‘house’ itself is basically an unused wing of Castle Dimitrescu.

Warnings: Heartbreak, sadness, game spoilers [I’m sure everyone has watched or played Village]

A/N: So like- The fly Bela left Y/n is all nice ‘n toasty (Y/n can produce body heat to keep it warm) when they’re outside of the castle.

“Fairy Tail Main Theme - Slow Ver.” Yasaharu Takanashi [Play this when Cassandra says, “Y/n...”]

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You lost two of your favorite people in the world, one of them being the love of your life. however, that couldn’t be on your mind at the moment. You have a mission; protect Cassandra. You continue down the hall slowly, trying to inhale the air; attempting to pinpoint Cassandra’s location by scent. Once you reach the end, you’re met with the House Dimitrescu house crest on the door. You take Bela’s key and unlock the it.

“Lady Cassandra?” You call out

No answer...

"Lady Cassandra!!" You call out to her

But no answer.

Damnit... Crying doesn’t help when you’re trying to track a scent... But, she must be in an area where she can't hear me... Or she’s thinking I’m Ethan... Or both.

You noticed how your crying stuffed your nose and blurred your vision ever so slightly.

"Lady Cassandra!!" You scream, in an attempt for her to come to you

Again, no response.

She's close though.... God please be okay....

You take the doorway straight across from the entry hall from the hidden doorway.

"Lady Cassandra?" You call out to her, opening the door

She wasn't anywhere to be seen in that room however, look under a fireplace and see a hole; big enough for someone to crawl through.

It's getting stronger...

Without even crawling, you maneuver into the hole and into the armory room.

"Lady Cassandra," you sigh in relief, running over to her

"My lord, what the hell are you doing here?" She asks, turning to you

"Ethan Winters- in our castle- he killed Bela and-and Daniela, he's coming here next," you say, “I must get you to a safe place...”

Before you could continue explaining, the door opens from the other room.

It's his scent... I have to get Lady Cassandra out of here.

"I have to get you out of here," you state, looking for a way out of the armory other than the one you came through

"Like hell I’m running away," Cassandra says, materializing into her fly swarm

"No! Lady Cassandra!" You say, “I have to get you to Alcina!”

But she didn’t listen to you.

“I was worried my sisters have gotten to you first,” Cassandra laughs, taunting Ethan

“Cassandra!” You yell, “No!”

You try to hold her back and for the both of you to head for the exit. However, she elbows you in the gut and pushes you off of her. You’re knocked into a couple of armor sets.

“Cassandra!” You yell once more, “You must get out of here!”

“I told you already my lord I am going to finish what my sisters could not!” She growls at you

It’s not that Lady Cassandra... I can’t afford to lose you... My Lady cannot afford to lose you too...

However, what you notice is what Ethan is carrying in his hand. You forcibly move out from the fallen armor pieces and lunge at him.

“Cassandra!” You yell, “His hand! He has a pipe bomb!!”

However, Winters throws the pipe bomb towards the crevice in the wall. At that point you tried to pick yourself back up to reach for Cassandra instead of Winters.

“Look out!” You scream, your arm outstretched to Cassandra

“What?” Cassandra asks you, confused

However, just before you could reach her, the pipe bomb goes off, knocking the both of you away from each other. You get knocked into some barrels and you wheeze out for air. Cassandra’s screams of pain are muffled.

“Lady.... Cassandra... We.. Have to... R-run...” You groan

“You’ve ruined the hunt!” Cassandra snarls at Ethan

Once you gained your bearings and your vision, you look up and notice Cassandra getting shot at. The screams and pained grunts had sent something up your spine and to your legs.

“Lady Cassandra!” You yell, forcing yourself up from the debris of wood

A bullet grazes your shoulder as you shield Cassandra from oncoming bullets. You let out a frustrated growl as you begin emitting body heat in an attempt to reverse the decreasing metabolism on Cassandra. However, you coil one arm around Cassandra as the both of you begin falling to the ground.

“Get away from her!” You scream

However, your other arm throws a fireball at Ethan. He dodges but faints in the process.

“Come on heat,” You tell your own body, “Don’t let Cassandra die on me!”

“Y/n...” Cassandra says, hugging you, “Stop...”

“I’m not going to watch you die in front of me!” You scream, a fire emitting your entire body

“You’re... Warm...” Cassandra says weakly, “I don’t feel how painful the fire is...”

You let out a human scream as you continue to try and warm Cassandra with your dragon-like fire based abilities.

“Y/n.... It’s no use...” Cassandra says weakly once more, “Stop before you overwork yourself...”

“I cannot watch you die too!” You yell, confessing why you were so persistent on getting her out, “I watched Daniela die... I had come too late for Bela... I can’t let the same thing happen to you...”

“I. Y/n.. It’s okay. I Can’t turn back.. Anyway..” She groans

“We’ll figure something out but for now I have to get you out of here and to get you to-”

“I’ll be able to see my sisters... Won’t I?” She asks you, tears forming into her eyes

You pull away from her to look at her; she’s continuing to crystalize, “You will...”

You try to smile for her but it only turns into an ugly crying frown. You were still trying to emit enough body heat for her however the constant incoming cold air doesn’t help your case.

“It’s okay y/n,” She smiles at you

She smiles as she begins allowing her body to go limp.

“No no no no no no no...” You stutter, trying to figure out how to get her out of the armory

“Tell mother that I... I’m sorry...” She says before reaching out to your hand, “I’ll be seeing my idiot sisters soon...”

Before you could touch her hand she crumbles in your lap and in your arms. You pick the torso up from the pile. You let out strangled gasps as you begin sobbing once more, clutching the torso.

Damnit damnit damnit.... Not Lady Cassandra too! DAMNIT ALL!!!!

Deja vu, you hear a gun cock behind you. You look up and slowly turn your head to Ethan; severely burned.

“Thanks to you, I’m never getting out of here!” He yells

“Thanks to you.... The family I’ve ever loved is gone...” You growl, smoke coming out of your mouth

He immediately puts his gun away at the sight of the combusting gas in your mouth.

“You’re going to pay,” Your two voices coming out of your mouth

You were caught off guard when he was running towards the other side of the room. You were questioning him why he was reaching for an animal skull mount. You only watch him run out of the armory. Your own body goes limp when you look back at Cassandra’s crystal torso but still having your fingers firmly holding onto it for dear life.

“I’m sorry too Lady Cassandra,” you choke on a sob, rocking the torso back and forth, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you...”

You finally leave the armory and make your way to the bedchamber. You kick open the door, startling Alcina. She stands and begin turning her body to face you however, she stops when she hears your knees make impact with the ground.

“I... Couldn’t save.. H-her...” You stutter over your words, “I-I tried all I could- I. I tried to get her out I really tried...”

Your voice trails off as Alcina walks up to you, taking the torso from your hands.

“’Tell Mother that I’m sorry’,” You say, “Those were Cassandra’s last words...”

You could easily tell that Alcina had been crying. She hides it well. But you? You were a crybaby. As soon as you smelled Bela’s remains, that was it for you. You haven’t recovered yet. You strongly believed you never will.

“Where is Winters now?” Alcina asks, gently but firmly

“I don’t know...” You sigh, hanging your head low, “I was still in shock... Cassandra and Daniela died in front of me... I found Bela too late...”

“I’ll go and find him,” Alcina says, walking past you, “You stay as long as you need dear. You’ve done all you could. Let me finish things here...”

You hear the door shut as you let your body fall onto the floor, seeing Daniela and Cassandra’s remains from across the room.

“Why does everyone I want to protect die in front of me?” You ask yourself, looking at Daniela and Cassandra

You didn’t realize how much time had passed until you jolt your head up when you hear roaring, faint roaring.

My Lady... She must have found Winters....

You exit the bedchambers and begin trudging through the halls, where the roars and gunshots were getting louder. You were exhausted; from crying for the last several hours. You just wanted everything to be over and for you to go back to the way things were. However, you could never go back to the way things were. Because, the people you cared about most in the world were non longer there with you.

“Only The Lady is left...” You say to yourself, entering the hall, “I have to get to her...”

You run across the angel statue hall and push through the heavy doors.

Chapter 5

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #female reader #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #house heisenberg #house moreau #house beneviento #mother miranda #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau

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t0th3-ark · 3 years

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Foreign Shadows

Karl Heisenberg x Reader: Part 1

Warnings: weapons, blood, gore, kidnapping, torture, cursing, sexual content.

"Ethan, you can't be serious?" (Y/N) calls after her friend. "I am serious. She's missing and I'm going to find her." Ethan shouts, over his shoulder, continuing into the woods. "Its getting late, you can't go out there alone." She says, stomping after him. Ethan turns suddenly. (Y/N) bumps into her chest, inhaling sharply. He looks down at her with desperation.

"Then come with me."

(Y/N) walks beside Ethan, arms crossed. They hadn't spoken to each other for at least twenty minutes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Ethan sighs, breaking the silence. "I know this is hard for you." (Y/N) starts, feeling an uncomfortable shiver run down her spine. Someone was watching. "But this wasn't a good idea. We're out here alone, in that dark, with a only a flashlight. I mean this is classic horror story shit." (Y/N) says. "I know, I know." Ethan mumbles. What sounds like a small branch snapping under someone's foot his heard. They both fall quiet. Ethan looks at (Y/N). Shs looks back wide eyed. He glances around, suddenlt noticing lights in the distance. He pulls (Y/N) to him, whispering in her ear. "There are light down the hill. When I tap your arm, we run, got it." He explains, having a feeling of dread in his gut. (Y/N) lets out a shaky breath feeling him tap her arm. She boots.

Ethan is hot on her tail, as they both sprint down the hill. The lights get closer and closer to reveal a small village. "What the hell?" (Y/N) whispers. Ethan doesn't see her stop running and bumps into her, knocking them both to the ground. "Shit!" Ethan says, grabbing the attention of some people walking the street. (Y/N) groans, sitting up, feeling eyes on her. "Ethan." (Y/N) says, patting the ground beside her. He was gone. She stares at the spot of the ground he once was sitting on. Did he leave her? (Y/N) stands, brushing her hands on her jeans. "Ethan!" She whispers harshly. "Dammit." She mumbles, looking entirely out of place in the village. "Are you lost?" Someone asks, from behind her. She turns, quickly. "I don't- I'm not from here." (Y/N) stutters watching the woman's face light up. "A foreigner! How lovely." She starts. (Y/N) doesn't let her finish. "Have you seen a guy, about this tall," She gestures with her hands, "Blonde hair? He was wearing a green jack-" The woman stops her. "I've seen no man. Please come, inside!" She says ushering (Y/N) inside her home. "Wait, but-" The woman sushes her. "I insist! We never get foreigners nowadays." The woman laughs, eerily. (Y/N) swallows, thickly. "Let me go find my husband, and I'll be right back." The woman says, giving her a creepy grin. (Y/N) shutters as the woman leaves. She rushes to the door, opening it. It slams on the wall as she bolts out of the woman's house and into the square. Where the hell was she? What was going on? Where did Ethan go? What was in the wood? Her breath quickens and she glances frantically around the village for an escape. Villagers stop in their tracks, staring at her as if she were a digusting creature. A dull pain, resonates on the back of her skull. She grunts, falling to the ground from the impact. She turns, seeing villager with some heavy object in hand. (Y/N)'s head pounds. Her adrenaline begins to kick in. The man raises his weapon to strike again and she rolls to the side hearing it clank on the brick below her. She kicks the man in the shin, pulling herself up. "Oh no you don't!" The man yells, aiming a shotgun at her. Where did her get that from? "What do you want? What's going on?" (Y/N) roars, anger filling her. "Where is my friend? What did you do to him-" The gun goes off, the bullets piercing her thigh. (Y/N) falls on her back, crying out in pain. Her hands shoot to her injured leg, holding it. Blood seeps onto her hands. She sobs, looking up through her tears at the man. "Mother Miranda will be very pleased to see you." The man says, confusing the hell out of (Y/N). "Please-" The barrel of the gun comes down the hit (Y/N)'s head.

Darkness.

"Oh, please, that is utter nonsense!" A female's voice booms. (Y/N) winces, feeling cold metal around her wrists. Her thigh is numb and pulsates with her heart. Her head hurts. It's throbbing, aching. She turns to lie on her back. "(Y/N)!" Someone hisses, from beside her. "Ethan?" (Y/N) croaks, quietly. "Thank God. I thought you wouldn't wake up." Ethan says. He's bloody and dirty. "What's going on? Ethan, please tell me this isn't real." (Y/N) whispers. "Ah!" The same female voice says. "They're awake." She chuckles. (Y/N) props herself up against a wall. Oh god. A woman looms above her. She's enormous. She towers over (Y/N) like a tree. She has to crane her neck to see the woman's face. She glances around the room seeing several other figures. Her eyes widen. What the fuck was happening? "Oh, don't be alarmed, darling." The woman, grins. "The worst is yet to come." She says. Someone snorts and (Y/N)'s head turns to see a gruff looking man, smoking a cigar. "What the fuck is going on?" (Y/N) projects, taking all of the strange people by surprise. Ethan feels anxiety bubble in him. "Who are you? What are we doing here?" (Y/N) drills. No one answers. "Answer me, goddammit!" (Y/N) shouts. Cigar man let's out a laugh. It sounded like it came from deep within her gut.

"What's so funny, cigar man?" (Y/N) growls, making Ethan kick her uninjured leg. "Dont provoke them." He mumbles. "Cigar man." The scruffy man repeats. "Don't provoke them?" (Y/N) says lowly. The strange people watch the two humans interact. "Don't fucking provoke them?" She shouts at Ethan, making him flinch. "Some dumbass shot me in the leg and all I was trying to do was get some answers." (Y/N) rants. "You're the one who dragged me out here to find you're precious daughter!" She says raising her hands mockingly. Ethan's face contorts. "Oh so it's my fault?" He says, laughing bitterly. "Obviously! We're in this situation because of you!" She argues, shoving her index finger into his chest. "Me? I'm not the one who-" The tall woman becomes tired of their bickering. "Enough!" She booms, shutting them both up. "Mother Miranda is on her way and she will decide what to do with both of you." She says, obviously annoyed. "I like her." The man says, pointing his cigar at (Y/N). "She's got spunk. Now him," He pauses, pointing to Ethan, "He seems like a pain in the ass, if I'm being blunt with you." He says, ignoring that the two humans were even there, talking to the tall lady. The large woman, sighs heavily. "It isn't your decision, Heisenberg." She says, sitting down. "Now hang on just a minute," (Y/N) says squinting. "Since when am I property?" She glares at all of them. Ethan swallows. "Since you set foot here." A new voice says. It's filled with power. It was quite intimidating. A female figure covered in feathers enters the room. "What the fuck." (Y/N) whispers, eyes trailing her as she walks. The Heisenberg man snorts. Ethan cowers to the wall behind him. Idiot.

Miranda stops at the center of the room. "We will decide your fate, from now, forward." She says, speaking with a kind of grace. "So we don't get a fucking say in this?" (Y/N) fumes. "(Y/N)." Ethan says, weakly. "Don't '(Y/N)' me. I don't want anything to do with this! This is insane. It this a joke? Did my mom set this shit up? She's been after me for years. I knew-" (Y/N) is silenced. "Shut your fucking hole and let the woman speak. Damn." Heisenberg snaps. "I thought you liked me, cigar boy." (Y/N) sneers. Heisenberg rises from his seat, suddenly, making her jump. Mother Miranda sighs. "Now you listen to me, princess." Heisenberg growls, stalking over to her. (Y/N) stands her ground, rolling her shoulders back. Ethan starts to shake in fear. He grabs her jaw, roughly.

"You ain't making the fucking decisions around here." He says. (Y/N) tries to pull her head out of his grasp, but he simply tightens it. "Your fate is already layed out for you. So I suggest to cooperate or you will face the consequences." Heisenberg grins. "Get your hands off me you pig!" (Y/N) says, lowly. A loud crack echos inside the room. (Y/N) falls back against the wall, hand to her face. He just hit her. "Learn your place or you won't survive." Heisenberg whimpers. (Y/N)'s eyes sting with tears. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. "Go to hell." She mumbles. "What did I just say-" heisenberg starts raising his voice. "That's a great show you put on for us, dear, but I think that's enough." The tall woman says, boredom in her tone. (Y/N) slumps back against the wall, defeated. It was no use.

"Ethan Winters." Mother Miranda says. "Your fate has been decided." She speaks with authority. There's a pause. "Lady Dimitrescu will have you." She states. The tall woman grins wildly. Ethan shrinks back against the wall. (Y/N) sits there, a cut on her cheek from something Heisenberg hand on his hand. Possibly a ring. She didn't care. Ethan is carried away by the tall lady she had learned to be Alcina Dimitrescu. "Good fucking ridens." (Y/N) mumbles to herself, watching Ethan struggle. "(Y/N) (L/N). Your fate has been decided." Mother Miranda repeats. "Oh, great." (Y/N) says, voice dripping in hate. "Lord Heisenberg will take you." She says. (Y/N) feels anger filling her. "I'm not going with that idiot." She says, looking at Miranda while referring to him. She hears him stand. Goosebumps rise on her skin, seeing his shadow on the ground as he looms above her. "Get up." He orders. "Fuck off." (Y/N) retorts, still looking at Miranda. "Get the fuck up!" Heisenberg booms. (Y/N) glares up at him. "I said, fuck off!" She yells back. Heisenberg smiles, adjusting his hat. "You're in for a ride, pretty girl." He growls, grabbing her forearm, forcing her to stand on her bad leg. (Y/N) yelps, numbing pain shooting through her ankle to her hip. She pants, pulling at the chains surrounding her wrist. She would glady, for no money at all, kick him in the balls, if her leg was healed.

"Well? C'mon walk." Heisenberg says, in a teasing manner. "I got shot, dumbass! I can't walk." (Y/N) spits. "Guess I'll either have to drag you or throw you over my shoulder. What'll it be?" He says, a glint in his eyes. (Y/N) remains silent. He grabs her by the middle, hosting her over his shoulder. "Put me down!" (Y/N) shouts as he begins to walk. "Oh! I see. You'd rather be dragged on the ground, huh?" Heisenberg says, stopping. "No." (Y/N) says, quickly. "That's what I fuckin' thought." He says, hand resting on the bad of her thighs. It didn't seem like he really cared about the wound on her thigh.(Y/N) starts to feel blood rush to her head. The man was carrying her at an uncomfortable angle. She grunts, wiggling to adjust herself. "Quit movin'." Heisenberg barks, slapping the back of her injured thigh. (Y/N) flinches letting out a pained sound. She dangles from his shoulder like a ragdoll. This was embarrassing to say the least. He was treating her like a sack of potatoes.

After what felt like a month, they reached some sort of plant. A factory maybe? This was all surreal. A whirring sound is heard and (Y/N) is walked through a door. "Welcome to your new home." Heisenberg chuckles. "This isn't my home." She snaps, hitting his back with her chained wrists. "Now you've done it." He says, before throwing her down on the floor. (Y/N) hisses, her leg aching. "Look, this us how it's gonna be." He starts, kneeling down to an eye level stance. "You ain't gonna cause trouble and your gonna do what I say. You hear?" He says. "You may need some trainin'," He pauses, eyes hinting some darkness,

"But you'll fuckin' learn."

#karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil #x reader

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, negativenorth!

For @negativenorth <3

Read On AO3

*****

This is Our Last (First) Christmas

The Hale Pack survived junior year. Miraculously. The troubles that surrounded them sophomore year brought on by their sacrifices to find their parents were increased by the cleansing ritual in the spring Stiles and Deaton did. It cleansed the Hale Territory-including Beacon Hills and the Preserve-The Pack, the air, the ground, even the humans of all the remaining darkness; reawakening the hibernating Ley Lines and brightening the light of Beacon Hills.

The summer was strangely terror-less. Deaton explained the cleansing happened like and earthquake, the energy radiating out and it would take some time until the epicenter was found but once things found it, everyone would tune into it. The Hale Territory was highly desired by many supernaturals for many reasons. Derek (under the advisement of Stiles) began a training regiment for the pack, humans included. Derek focused more on the wolves-Scott, Jackson, Danny, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Ethan and Aiden-who deflection helped defeat the Alpha pack and Derek welcomed in with open arms. The humans trained too, but with Melissa on first aid and field trauma medicine and Chris and John with hand to hand and gun and knife combat training. Stiles had added training with Deaton on magic. Eventually, The wolves joined the humans.

"Why do we need medical training?" Isaac asked, diligently paying attention to proper stitching technique.

"If something happens, yeah you may heal but that doesn't solve blood loss. Or if a human is out. Or you needed to be inconspicuous about lycanthropy. Technically you don't exist." Stiles said. "Or a broken bone that heals wrong."

"He's not wrong. I agree." Derek chimed in.

"You're only agreeing because-"Erica was cut off by a hard nudge to the ribs from Allison and a heated glare from Scott. Stiles was confused but let it go, only to silently agree with the Mate-Marks on their right arm-a vine of bright red thorny roses.

"Well, if Mom says and Dad agrees then I guess we have no choice." Jackson sneered. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me for wanting you to stay alive, dipshit. These aren't bad skills to have in general even. My first aid saved your fucking ass more than once." Stiles practically snarled. This pack was made up of his friends but that didn't mean they were easy to get along with. Jackson opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Lydia's hand on his arm. Stiles always smiled softly when he got a glimpse of their Mate-Mark behind their ears, the chemical formula C43H66N12O12S2 also known as oxytocin.

A week during the fall of junior year, Stiles felt a chill go down his spine. One of the wards he spent several long days putting up with Deaton's teaching had been triggered. He had put up a dozen or so of varying intent, getting stronger and closer together the closer to Derek's loft they got. Stiles had a list in his journal of placements to recharge them if needed but Deaton had told him with his Spark and use of Ley lines, they will stay charged and operational until removal. Stiles texted to Derek to warn him of the visitor and he with Boyd checked it out.

That was the first of almost weekly trespassers of the creatures-that-go-bump-in-the-night variety. The pack had their training, their strength, their determination to survive but they didn't have their teamwork, their trust, their knowledge to win. Stiles and Lydia and occasionally Allison worked to compile as much information as possible from Deaton and Chris and Derek and independent research as possible. The Pack grew smart but they still couldn't click, they used too much brawn not enough brain.

"You would think, with werewolves needing packs, they would innately understand teamwork." Stiles said. He was at the Argent's house looking at few of Chris's books. He had become more helpful since Allison and Scott finally told him the truth about their Mate-Marks. He didn't like it but he know helped as much as he could knowing that was the only way to get his daughter safe.

"You have to remember Stiles, they may be werewolves now but they are teenagers first. High schoolers. Derek isn't that much older than you all. You somehow see the bigger picture but they can't." Chris said.

"I have always had to see the big picture. No one else was looking at it at the beginning. I was trying to keep everyone alive, not just-"Stiles cut himself off. "You are so right. You always have the best ideas." Stiles sagged a little with relief. He was glad he'd been able to convince Chris to help them, join them. "I have to go." Stiles left the kitchen, uncharacteristically leaving the books scattered on the table. He hopped into his jeep and headed straight to Derek's loft.

"Derek, are you home?" Stiles opened the door to the loft with the only spare key Derek ever made.

"Hey, Stiles. Surprise seeing you here, everything okay?" Derek popped out from the kitchen. "I am making dinner, care to join me?"

"Oh, that would be nice. Everything is okay, I just have something to talk to you about." Stiles sat at the island rubbing a thumb against the glass Derek handed him and the other rubbed the spot behind his ear.

"Okay. If you are this serious then it probably has some merit." Derek said. Stiles felt proud of the growth Derek had gone through. He had become a better man and Alpha since the pack had grown and settled and he was able to grieve properly. Stiles, however was confused at his statement. Derek looked up to see Stiles looking back with his head tilted and eyes narrowed. "You have tells just like the rest of us. You may know all of ours but you don't know your own. You have gotten good at lying to us weres but you forget that some of us? We know you. Like me, you rub behind your ear when you are thinking about something and it may upset the balance of things." Derek explained. Stiles didn't know how to answer, wasn't sure what to say, Derek studied him? It made sense in Stiles' head, at the beginning Derek needed to know everyone's angle even his.

"I didn't know that." Stiles said. He decided to ignore the other parts Derek said until later. "I know as a pack we have strengths and weaknesses. We need to work on those weaknesses, our biggest one? Teamwork. This pack is holding the strongest territory in the Northwest right now, and it is made up of young werewolves and several humans and a Banshee who all happen to be teenagers in high school. We had a social hierarchy and it worked until you bit several of them. Now they have to relearn that, everything is discombobulated causing tensions, and second-guessing and we may have survived until now but eventually that won't be enough. We may be a pack but we won't be a family until that happens." Stiles paused realizing how that sounds. "Not that I want to replace yours. I just want-I don't mean to-I get it. I don't want you to be alone anymore." Stiles finally spit out.

"I know what you mean. I would never think that you of all people are trying to somehow push away my family. You have too much resect for others to even think that." Derek said. His face was relaxed and open, the skin around his eyes wasn't even tight. You probably love hearing this from me, even though I say it a lot. You are right. We don't know each other well enough to know what we'd risk for each other. So what is your idea?" Derek turned back to the stove.

"What makes you think I have an idea?" Stiles asked. Derek just threw a look over his shoulder at the young man.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't have an idea." Derek said.

"I was thinking of having the pack rebuild your house. It would give them a safe common goal and outlet. It would reestablish your territory ad strength pack bonds and the bond with the land. it would give us a den. I know I just said I don't want to replace your family. And that is true. I don't want to because I know I can't. I can however make the pain less, the burden lighter and you happier. We can do this together Derek. Me and you. like always.

"I. I will think about it." Derek said very slowly. Stiles nodded. Derek said nothing else, instead finished up dinner and Stiles took it as a sign to get place settings ready and switch to lighter topics.

The winter of junior year was made up of blood, sweat, tears, anger, resentment, claws, teeth, bullets, arrows. The pack was surviving, but barely. Stiles could see the fault lines forming, the glares more frequent. He never pushed Derek, only waited and hoped. He knew that the Hale Pack had the potential to be amazing once again, but only if they worked for it.

The spring of junior year bloomed with hope, filled with finals college preparation and a wendigo or two. March came and went but April came in like a lion. Derek had made his decision, rebuilding the Hale Manor is needed and would do them some good. The pack had too many issues amongst themselves to work through, if they didn't settle as a whole and members of that whole, then more people would die and the pack would fall apart. Derek's decision came instinctively, The young betas had been arguing over who was to land the first hit, the baddy of the week threw Erica into a tree skewering her on a branch. Derek saw it happen in slow motion, anger thrumming in his veins. That second she impacted the tree Derek knew. He would make a pack out of these teenagers or die trying. They needed the pack as much as he did.

Derek stood over his pack watching them cuddle each other from a distance. They were on the floor of the loft spread out, but unable to ignore the need to touch. Lydia had a leg curled with Allison, tucked under Jackson arm. Isaac bridged the space between Erica and Boyd and Scott and Allison. Stiles was sitting at the island still working. Always working. Derek had actively tried to not look at Stiles, the few glances he allowed had the same results, heart pounding breath catching results. Stiles had showered and was wearing a pair of sweats he'd left here some day and a shirt of Derek's, who's scent of pine and leather mixed deliciously with Stiles' own scent of lemon and honeysuckle. Derek was glad the rest of the pack was sleeping, unable to witness him softening. Stiles was the only one to bring it out. He sat down next to Stiles, pulling his feet into his lap, rubbing lightly.

"I've been thinking...about what you said a while back." Derek couldn't look at Stiles. He instead focused on his feet. "About rebuilding."

"Oh? Did you come to a decision then?" Stiles kept his face turned to the books in front of him, side-eyeing Derek. He knew that staring would only cause Derek to shut down harder. Stiles could feel his heart pounding, knew Derek could hear it but tried to project calmness.

"Yeah. I did. I want to do it. I need to do it. The last step of grieving and the first step of acceptance. This pack needs a fresh start. You are right, like always. I only want to do this if you help me every step of the way. I can't do this by myself. I don't trust anyone else to help." Derek admitted. Stiles beamed. The absolute joy and pride on his face made Derek almost forget that he had just agreed to tear down the last standing reminder of his family.

As if Stiles could read his mind, "They'd want you to be happy. I would be honor to help you.

The decision to rebuild the house triggered something in Stiles. He began working with Deaton, honing his sputtering spark into a full-fledged flame. Deaton was impressed with his strength, commenting the flame was more like an inferno. Stiles did his school work on top of learning magic and keeping a pack of rag-tag teenagers alive. Deaton explained that Sparks were common but without proper training burned out, with proper training Sparks became witches or varied magic users, they often became emissaries to those in need or ran shops. The idea of being a pack emissary resonated with Stiles and that became his goal. He learned moon phases, herbs, spells, enchantments, crystals, sigils, runes, ancient languages. As he learned, he wasn't the only one to grow emotionally. The pack began to pull down the old Hale Manor. Piece by piece, they pulled it down. The beginning was hard-insult were thrown without care for where they landed, more than one fight broke out usually but they worked together and talked and learned about each other. The insults lost their thorns, the glares lost their heat and the smiles lost their fangs.

During the days between the too-hot spring days and the too-cold summer days, the last dumpster full of the remains of the Hale Manor vanished down the road. Derek watched feeling numb. Stiles stood by in quiet solidarity. All that was left was the scorched earth and a smattering of rubble, the grass was stained gray from ash and fire, the foundation crumbling into itself. There would be a specialist coming to demolish and redo the foundation, that was something Derek requested. The two men looked at the now empty clearing, Stiles pretended not to notice the trembling of Derek's fingers. Stiles simply took his hand in his and pulled him down to sit, letting Derek lean against him and grieve.

"No one likes it when strangers speak for those who you have lost. I know I hated it. I also know what it is like to an extent." Stiles paused. "They would be proud of you. You were in a down really low, and you brought yourself back. You did it." Stiles pressed himself into Derek's bulk.

Thanks. It has meaning coming from you. I know you understand. You know loss, not like Scott. You don't pretend to be unaffected like Jackson." Derek sat for a bit, letting the Stiles' strength soak into his bones. He wasn't alone anymore. He could do this. He wasn't 16 again pushing away Laura in a fit of survivor's guilt. He had Stiles. He had his pack. "Now what?" Derek turned to face Stiles, looking like as lost as a child after a nightmare.

"Now we build your house. Together." Stiles said. "And watch YouTube. Lots of it."

The summer between junior and senior year was the best Stiles had in a long time. He and his mother always had adventures and busy days. Then one year it was just him and Scott. It was only the two of them for years, neither popular enough for summer plans. The others in the pack in similar circumstances. Allison didn't stay around long enough to make plans and Lydia and Jackson's families made plans without consent. Stiles and Derek read and watched and googled for hours before getting the materials. The did it step by step from framing to electric to plumbing to hanging drywall to building stairs to putting in windows. Derek bought the supplies, secretly pleased that the insurance, investment, assess money was getting some use, not just growing interest, coming into several millions of dollars was daunting without a purpose especially when part of the blame fell on his shoulders. With every step of the way, Stiles and Derek worked together to make the idea into a house into a home. Stiles layered charms and spells and enchantments and runes and straight ingredients into everything. Protection from water, fire, illness, bad luck, ill-intent, accidents, death, and anything Stiles could think of was woven into every step, from the frame to the paint. The house was built by Stiles and Derek for the pack, for the future, for each other.

"Derek, we need a bigger kitchen. And I think a mudroom will be a good investment with a lever handle door. We have a nice entrance way, where people came come in and hang up their jackets and put away shoes but the back entrance doesn't have anything." Stiles was looking over the blueprints with Derek. He was making notes for when they finalized some decisions.

"Why?" Derek asked.

"You will be housing a pack of teenage/twentysomething werewolves. You need a big enough kitchen and matching pantry to feed a small country." Stiles said, still scribbling notes.

"No." Derek growled. He was running out of patience. He wanted to make this house with Stiles but everyone seemed to have an opinion on something. Which would be fine it he had asked, or if there was some logic but the majority was just annoying.

"You don't want a big kitchen? I mean it is your house." Stiles looked confused but his voice seemed blank, undermined by his pounding heart and cold brittle scent of sadness.

Derek wanted to growl but held back. Derek didn't want to push him away. Derek liked how close they had been getting, his wolf was pleased as well. His wolf had been unusually attached to the young man since the beginning and was originally satisfied but as time went on both Derek and his wolf wanted more and more, not sure what they were asking for. The concern for Stiles' wellbeing, high sensitivity to Stiles' emotion and heartbeat, The willingness to entertain Stiles' commentary and personality and enjoy it, his gaze lingering on Stile' fingers and throat, reveling in the challenges he offered all resonated with Derek as signs pointing to Stiles being his mate but if that was true they would have Mate-Marks.

"It is our house." Derek said. It was all he could give right now, a house where Stiles could be relaxed and happy, Derek would have to accept what he had for right now.

"So, yes big kitchen?" Stiles looked up, Derek just stared back waiting. "Oh! The lever handle is so you can open it with paws."

That is humiliating. And smart. Make it so."

"You did not just make a Star Trek: The Next Generation reference. Are you a closeted nerd?" Stiles poked Derek in the ribs, peering at him suspiciously. Derek stayed silent, glad Stiles couldn't hear his pounding heart. Stiles laughed, head tilted back, cheeks crinkled and mouth open. Derek could only stare and memorize the moment, proud he got Stiles to laugh that easily. Derek could hear the thoughts in his soul: mine, claim, mate. The possessiveness and softness was happening more and more but only around Stiles, further adding to the mate checklist. Derek just enjoyed the moment.

Come on. Let's finish this. I do eventually want to move in, ya know?" Derek tapped the paper with a single claw, trying to remind Stiles-ineffectually-he could rip his throat out with his teeth.

The weekend before senior year found the pack piled in the living room of the recently finished Hale Manor. The pack was well-protected and well-stablished now with Stiles' magic and the 'den' and the bonds that were solidified over the summer. Deaton said the terrors of the years past will not go away but would drastically slow down. The Hale Territory was claimed and the others would understand innately. The plan worked, the band of high school students thrown together by happenstance became a pack, a family. And it showed, in moment like this. They were tightly woven together on a bed of pillows and blankets with a Disney movie playing softly on TV. Stiles looked on and felt his chest warm and his heart flutter. He pulled out his phone and making sure the shutter and flash were off took a few pictures, trying to shove away the sadness and nostalgia. He had been slightly obsessed with taking photos lately, needing proof that the pack had come together, they now had a home not only physically but in one another too. He had done it, he had somehow kept them alive through all the bullshit. They only had one year left together and he didn't want to look back and regret not capturing the memories or being unable to remember the normal days. One day, a year from now he would look up and realize everyone had scattered like seeds on the wind, he wanted to remember. Stiles got up from the chair he was curled up in, he was feeling melancholy didn't want to ruin the mood. Even Derek was on the edge of the puppy pile. He decided to use his favorite goodbye tactic he borrowed from the Irish.

"I can hear you thinking too hard from over here. Come join us. Get comfy. And we can talk, I know something is on your mind." Derek ungracefully shoved the others to make room. It isn't pack night if one person leaves."

Fine." Stiles was a sucker for the pack card. He knew he was pack but not being a wolf meant he couldn't feel the bonds as strongly as the others so he needed reminded sometimes. Stiles slipped in between Derek and the pack, thoughts like: safe, pack, mate, mine. After a few seconds Derek pinched him lightly. "I just don't know hat I am to do next. I did what I was supposed to do. I kept Scott alive, I helped you, I healed the land, solidified the pack. My job is done. This time next year, the pack might be tossed across the country and then what? We come back for weekend and holidays? For how long? Then we just fall apart and I never have this again? I made this family just like each of them did. I can't lose another one." Stiles felt his stomach drop at the cold, bitter, sharp feeling his own words gave him.

"That isn't how this works. A pack this established only gets stronger. No one gets out. There may be distance but not much and not for long. We are too new of a pack for that. You certainly don't get to leave, you are my emissary. You are connected to me and the pack and the land. Don't force ties to break when you don't know the future. There is time, there are options. Enjoy now, before fretting about the future. Talk to them, You'd be surprised to hear you aren't as alone as you think." Derek pulled Stiles closer, tucking him tightly into his embrace. "That is why you get sad after taking photos. You think old memories are all you will have left."

"I would rather leave then be left. I have grow weary of being left." Stiles tried to shrug.

"Don't look too far ahead, you'll miss the now. Make memories to enjoy the moment not resign yourself to only having memories." Derek said. Stiles nodded and snuggled closer, Derek's body heat and voice rumbling in his chest soothing his anxiety. "Go to sleep, Stiles. I'll be right here."

Fall of senior year was calm, content. Stiles and Lydia and Danny were in a heated competition for valedictorian, a contest that was a secret to everyone in school but no one in the pack. Some filled out college applications like Danny, Jackson, Lydia. Some decided to go the technical route like Erica, Boyd. Isaac and Scott were looking at community college. Stiles adopted a forget about it and it doesn't exist attitude. He often pulled out pamphlets or packets only to sort them into piles and then put them away again. He changed the subject when asked about anything dealing with after senior year. The closest he got to talking about it was with Derek one day, by themselves hanging out on a Friday night. He told Derek, he liked magic and the supernatural and being a witch, he might open a shop, take over for Deaton who wanted to be a vet and only a vet. That was the last time he seriously spoke about it. The pack spent full moons together, running and eating dinner and then a sleepover. Slowly each pack member added their own things to the house, a blanket here, a favorite mug there, A sweatshirt draped over a chair, a forgotten pair of shoes left by the front door. Stiles took pictures and cleaned and tutored. He talked a lot without saying much. Derek knew something was on his mind.

"I want you to come over tonight. I told everyone to stay away. We have some things to talk about." Derek texted him one day in October.

Stiles went over, slouched over like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Derek felt sympathy for the kid.

"Stiles, I know you have been struggling a bit. Understandably so. A lot has happened these past few years. I want you to sit here with me, all night if we have to, and talk over your options. I want you to do what you want to do. I know your dad wants you to go to college and I know you want to open a shop. I think you can do both, and with the way the world works, I think you could make it work. I would gladly help, we can build you a small shop here or something." Derek said. Stiles sagged, eyes lit with relief.

"You don't think it is a dumb idea? Magic isn't well known, and I won't be successful." Stiles said.

"You are right, But people from all over will come if you are good. You will gain a following. I believe you would be a great successor to Alan, if you so choose. I will gladly help you get to that point." Derek said.

"What? I don't even know what I am doing." Stiles rubbed his face. "I can't let you...support me while I decide what I want to do."

"You are running out of time. You didn't hold me up in a pool for two hours for me for me to not learn what kind of person you are. You already made up your mind. You have helped me over and over and over again. Let me help you!" Derek demanded. Stiles threw up his hands, groaning loudly.

"What do you want me to say? That I want to learn all that I can to help you be the best alpha you can be? of the best pack we can be? And if I help other people with things around town or even farther, that would be perfection? That I have no idea what I want to do, but I can't see myself going to university and getting a typical 9-5 job and having 2.5 kids? That you coming in all dark and broody ruined me for all normalcy." Stiles ranted. He was gesturing wildly, pacing in short burst.

"Yeah. That is all I want. Feel better?" Derek, pulled Stiles close, rubbing his nose into his hair. Stiles leaned against him, this time borrowing strength.

"A little. I am glad I finally got to say it aloud. now I have to convince my dad." Stiles said. Derek squeezed him in a side hug.

"We have to convince your dad. You aren't alone, I'm not going anywhere, ever, We're a team." Stiles smiled softly and nodded, relaxing into Derek's grip.

The days and nights grew colder, the wolves handing full moon runs when the humans got the food, hot chocolate and movies ready for their return. Or rather Stiles did, the others just laid about, studying or figuring out how to move into Derek's house without their families noticing. November was quickly finishing and Stiles' favorite time of year was approaching. He had already pulled out the containers of decorations for his own house, trying to figure out how to bring it up to Derek. He wanted to have a pack Christmas, wanted to go out and pick out a tree together, and hang the garlands and argue over where the lights go on the tree, hang up ornaments and behind everyone's back rearrange them. He wanted to get presents for everyone, wrapping them with paper and ribbons and bows.

"Stiles, is something burning?" Scott said coming into the kitchen, kissing Allison on the temple. The other Mates sharing in similar displays of affection. Jackson and Lydia cuddling on a large chair, Erica and Boyd sharing a chaste kiss. Derek walked up to Stiles simultaneously pulling the pan of bacon off the stove and trailing a hand down his jaw to latch into his hair.

"Shit! The bacon. I was distracted. Sorry. It should be fine, I am mixing it to make perogies for you tomorrow. Its Sunday after all." Stiles said softly. He still looked a million miles away, Derek pulled him around ducking slightly to make eye contact.

"Stiles, is something the matter? Are you okay?" Derek asked. After they talked about Stiles' future Stiles had been coming to Derek more and more for support. Derek was more vocal with his thoughts, trying to verbalize emotions. The pack was close, a family but only because the two of them were a solid unit. They knew each other in and out.

Stiles looked nervous, like he didn't know how to ask. Derek just raised an eyebrow. "I want to decorate for Christmas. Here. I want to go and pick out directions and a tree and argue over lights and rearrange the ornaments when no one is looking. I want to agonize for days over the prefect presents. I want to do that, if you are okay with that." Stiles said, in a round of word vomit.

"Okay. I want that too, I was going to ask soon, you just beat me to the punch. How about we pick a day after Thanksgiving to pick out a tree and maybe you can come with me a few days to pick out Christmas decorations, without the children." Derek huffed a laugh into Stiles' temple. "This is your house too, You'll be here just as much as I will be. I want you to do what makes you happy."

"Okay. I'd like that. We can talk about it more later. Let's eat and then tomorrow we can look at some ideas, I want you to be the end all, end all on decisions." Stiles beamed at Derek. He went back to making dinner, leaving the slightly burnt bacon cool off to the side.

Thanksgiving was spent with their families, Derek did join the Stilinksi and McCalll's and Isaac for the big meal, finalizing plans with Stiles on decorations and tree-hunting. They decided on a red, green, gold scheme and more traditional type decorations, simple and minimalistic. Stiles used his internet skills to get some deals on older decorations on craigslist and facebook. They had a few pick-ups scheduled and the time for tree-hunting at a local christmas tree farm. Derek's only request was it had to be a big tree.

The pack three days later met up and began discussing trees. They were all in agreement, for a tall bushy tree but they couldn't pick a species until an employee showed them the examples and explained the difference. Three hours later and they finally agreed on the perfect tree and were on the way to the house. Stiles made them help him put it up right away so it warms up and the branches drop. The pack then scatters and Stiles and Derek head out and got decorations.

Derek watched Stiles spend the next few days putting the inside decorations in places. Derek helping with a comment here or there, but staying quiet, enjoying having someone to share the holiday with. "Thank you Stiles. I am glad, even though we've been through some shit together, that I have met you. I found myself because of you. I am glad that you are happy here with me." Derek told him.

"Me too. I feel safe here with you. Like I belong here, with you." Stiles said. "I know that wolves have mates obviously when they get introduced to each other, but sometimes when I am with you...you look at me and see me and I feel you..." Stiles shook his head.

"I do too. I am more attuned to you and your scent and heart than anyone in the pack. I can only chalk it up to you doing what would be my mate's job if I had one. I am not sure Stiles but I am not mad about it. Maybe after the holidays we can figure it out." Derek said.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan." Stiles agreed.

The almost confessions triggered something, Derek became more tactile and protective than ever towards Stiles, Stiles made sure the betas were fed and the house was clean and tutored when needed and gave advice. They had been a unit before but now, Stiles and Derek were barely apart, only for school hours. Stiles' dad at one point asked if he was moving in and Stiles took that as permission and did just that (practically) moved in and also used the opportunity to tell John about his post-school plans. John was hesitant and needed some time to think it over before he could agree and support his son. Stiles did as promised and agonized for days what to get each of his friends. He meticulously wrapped each and every one of them. The one that took the longest to put together was the most important.

Stiles had learned many things over the last two and half years, about the world, himself, his hometown, his local vet. One of those things was his most important secret-he had been in love with Derek Hale for two of those years. It wasn't anything grand or extreme, one day Stiles saw him smile at a joke and decided he needed to do that all the time. Stiles knew that Derek needed somebody in his corner and chose to be that person. He didn't know spending all that time with his dry humor and caring nature and supportive personality would result with him falling in love with the older man but he wouldn't change anything that happened for anything in the world. 'except getting his real family back.'Stiles thought. 'That is it! A photo album. The Hales are a very old and well known family, there should be some photographs floating around.'

Stiles got to work. He went to the library and school paper archives, pulling out back issues of newspapers and yearbooks. He called into several nearby packs, opening the Hale pack up to negotiations in the future and even searched through Beacon Hills residents photos to find any and all of the Hale family memories. He also searched the star registry for a bright one towards the north and named it Talia Hale, so Derek would be able to find a guiding light for the rest of his life.

Stiles spent days putting the album together, finding near 75 photos and newspaper clippings for it. He also framed the star certificate and got a observatory to take very good photos of the star. and framed those as well. He was so focused Stiles forgot that his dad told him family was coming over. He obsessed over ever little detail for his present.

Derek did not fare much better. He had decided on a two part present for Stiles as well. One was a greenhouse/workshop Derek was having built for Stiles and a small business front to turn into a shop. Derek bought the shop and added Sties name to the deed so it was legally his. The greenhouse was going to be built in the spring so it could be used over the summer. Derek knew it might be too much for a friend but Stiles saved his life. Without Stiles, Derek would be alone and devastated and family-less. He fell in love with the whiskey eyes and contagious laughter and selflessness and love and compassion. They may not be Mates but Derek wanted no one else with him in the future, not only as a pack member or an emissary but even more than that. Derek kept his feelings a secret not wanting to push Stiles away.

The 23rd of December was the pack Christmas day. They had a wonderful breakfast and were in their PJ's getting settled and waiting for everyone. Everyone go a seat and the presents were sorted. They went in a circle.

"Derek, can you open my last? I...um..." Stiles said. Derek nodded not commenting on the obvious nerves.

"Only if you open mine last too." Derek said. Stiles nodded smiling gratefully. They went around and opened presents; clothes and make up and a few books for the girls, the boys got video games and comics and clothes. Honestly it was a good first Christmas as friends.

all that was left was Derek's present from Stiles and vice versa. The pack watched in silence. Neither moved.

"Please go first." Stiles pleaded. Derek looked between the presents left on his lap and Stiles. Derek picked up what Stiles knew to be the album. Derek gently pulled the paper off pausing in confusion. He looked up at Stiles again who waved at him to continue. He opened the book, the front page being a family picture of the Hales for the work Talia did to create the preserve.

"Stiles, is this..."Derek couldn't finish.

"Yeah It is. A Hale Pack photo album. Took me a while to make it. Think it was an idea even before I knew it." Stiles explained. Derek thought of the all the photos Stiles had taken recently and flipped to the back pages, glossy photos of his current family lined the pages. The last phot was a picture of him and Stiles cuddling on a pack night, the note below was in Allison hand, You both deserve love and happiness no matter who it comes from..

"Thank you Stiles. Thank you." Derek knew somehow in his soul, that was Stiles showing his love for him, without saying. Words took courage, and that wasn't easily found in front of others. "Open yours. The bottom one. Please."

Stiles did as he asked, opening the bottom one, a square shaped box. He opened it to see a copy of a building deed sitting in tissue paper. "Der-Derek. You didn't...Not the-" Stiles' voice broke. He scent blooming with tears and pleasure.

"That place on Pine you've been dreaming about for two months? Why, yes it is." Derek tried to play it off as funny.

"This isn't funny. I told you I didn't want you help." Stiles tried to sound stern. Derek only shook his head.

"I told you to let me help. I did. Also it is technically half mine. But you have a place now. You can actually do it." Derek said. The pack made noises of confusion.

"I am not going to university. I am doing online classes but I am opening a magic shop and taking over for Deaton and becoming Hale Pack Emissary. Derek just bought my dream location." Stiles announced to cheers from the pack. Stiles knew in that moment that is how it felt knowing someone loved you enough to give you want you needed not just what you wanted. He knew how it felt to know someone loved him enough to stand with him not out of obligation but actual love and desire to do so.

They opened the other presents with similar reactions.

"A greenhouse? Seriously? and a workshop?" Stiles was dumbfounded.

"You named a literal star after my mother. A. Star." Derek was flabbergasted.

The rest of the pack sensed it was time to leave, the two men had a lot to discuss-least of all their emotions. The pack began piling out trying not to overhear the conversation.

"Derek, I can't accept this. I really can't. It may be all I ever wanted but I can't let you give it to me. We talked about this, I am filling in. If I was meant to be this important, we'd be mates." Stiles said.

"You aren't a fill in. Do you think I would give you up for someone I don't know? I would never. No relationship will ever be more important than our to me. You say this is all you ever wanted? You can have it!" Derek said.

"This isn't something I can take, you may change your mind, or find someone better. This is something to dream and hope for. Let me dream and hope, so I don't get hurt." Stiles sounded sad and broken. Derek made a soft wounded noise.

"You are it for me. I built you a goddamn house Stiles. I tore down my last memory of my family for you. We have almost died for each other too many times to count for you to back out now." Derek said. Stile growled and shuffled trying to think of an argument. He was saved by his dad coming down the road in a hurry. The pack was spilled on the porch trying to look like they hadn't been listening.

"Scott, where is Stiles?" John called. Stiles and Derek came out at the sound of his voice. "Mieczyslaw Stilinski! You were supposed to by home an hour ago! We have family coming in today remember!" John yelled, standing against his open car door.

"I'll be right there!" Stiles blanched. "I can't believe I forgot." He turned to Derek. "We aren't done here, mister."

"Your first name is really Mieczyslaw?" Derek asked. He didn't want Stiles leaving while angry, it made it anxious.

"Yep! Mieczyslaw Stilinski. Please to meet you Derek Hale!" Stiles understood what Derek was going for without him saying like most times.

"Please to meet you too." Derek chuckled before a sharp pain brought him and Stiles to their knees.

Several painful minutes later, Stiles was laughing hard enough he had tears streaming down his face. He left hand was clamped over his shirt collar, knuckles white. Derek stared openmouthed. John and the rest of the pack stood confused and worried.

"Did what I think happen just actually happen?" Scott asked.

"We'd never been formally introduced. Definitely not with my first name. Mate-Marks only form when properly introduced." Stiles moved his hand to show the large wolf print marking his upper chest and collarbone.

Derek laughed. and laughed and laughed before swooping down and pressing a slightly desperate kiss onto Stiles' lips. "Guess we won't have to discuss the shopfront or greenhouse later, mate." Derek grinned goofily at Stiles who could help but smile back just as dopey.

"Guess not" Stiles said. "I guess not."

Both of them could feel the calmness and happiness in their souls for finding their mates. Derek's wolf stopped shifting anxiously as it had been for months, finally calming down for Derek to relax. Both of them filled to the brim: safe, mate, mine, forever.

#negativenorth #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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fxkthatdairy · 5 years

Text

PANIC ROOM Chapter Two~ Grayson Dolan

Overview- In the year 2020, to solve the problem of overpopulation. Selected few are thrown into the PANIC ROOM simulation. If the person finds their soulmate in the simulator and manages to survive, they are able to rejoin the rest of the population. If they fail they will become a victim of the PANIC ROOM. What happens when (Y/N) gets thrown in the PANIC ROOM? Will she survive? Or will she fall victim to the simulation?

Warnings: severe angst, violence (epilepsy warning for the photo ⚠️) Heavy language

Welcome to the PANIC ROOM SIMULATION. In a few minutes, you will be stripped of your current clothes and given specially made clothes with a tracking monitor built-in. You will be assigned a number. This simulation will put you through your deepest and darkest fears and memories. It will put you through a survival state a mind. Each pair will be given a bag of weapons, and scattered across this simulation is even more weapons and ammunition. You may use any necessary actions to use including murder. Those who are strong and those who are able to find their connection with their soulmates will survive. Those who are weak and never find their soulmate will surely perish in the simulation. Good luck to all and God bless America

Once the announcement was over, a group of officers came out a begun escorting large groups of people through doors. Grayson and I were shoved through the doors and into a room. Each pair of people seemed to have their own small little room. Wishing the room was a deadbolt from the inside and what seems to be from the outside as well, one full sized bed, a sink, a small shower, and a toliet. The guards handed us both a pair of clothes, a bag of weapons, and very minimal survival items.

“You will stay in these quarters tonight. Tomorrow at 8 am you will be taken to the simulation where it is strictly survival from there. Good Luck participants and God Bless America.” The guard said and walked away. I heard the sound of the deadbolt, they had locked us in here with no chance at escaping.

“Fuck them and their fucking bullshit. Good luck Participants, he made that shit sound like we signed up to fucking risk our god damn lives. And if I hear another god damn God Bless America, I’m going to lose it. God wouldn’t agree with this shit but yet he’s up there letting this fucking bullshit happen.” I ranted to the point where I was out of breath. The truth is, I’m scared shitless, I’m scared of fucking dying, of being alone, leaving my mother alone, the whole nine yards but I wasn’t going to let that shit show. You learn over the years how to keep that shut contained. You learn how to adapt and overcome.

“Hey,” Grayson placed a hand on my shoulder,” how about we take some deep breaths and try to calm down, breathe in with me,” he said and we both took a deep inhale,”now exhale,” he said and we repeated this process over and over again until my breathing was slowed down and I was more relaxed,” there we go, see that worked. Now let’s just get changed, maybe take a shower, and then just relax. We can talk if you’d like or we can sit in complete silence, whatever you want. I will promise you one thing (Y/N), I will get you through this bullshit simulation alive. You will see your mother again. I’ll see Ethan again and my mom and Cameron. We will make it out of here alive so help me god.” He embraces me in a hug. I won’t lie his warm hugs comforted the shit out of me. It was like being wrapped in the warm embrace of a fuzzy blanket during the winter.

“Thank you Gray, this really helped. I’m going to jump in the shower and try to relax some more.” I said and grabbed the clothes they had given us. At least they weren’t completely douche bags even though that wasn’t possible. They had given us two sets of clothes, a night time outfit which was a black pair of shorts and a black tank top, and a day time outfit which consisted of a white t-shirt and a pair of black joggers. I walked in the bathroom with the night clothes and stripped of the clothes I had been wearing that day. I turned the water on between warm and extremely too hot and got in the shower. The water relaxing me slowly as it traveled down my body. This would probably be my last shower if I don’t make it so I’m going to make damn sure I enjoy it. I grabbed the shampoo and massaged it gently into my hair and washed it out. I then washed my body real quick and applied some conditioner to the ends of my hair. I wash everything off and turned the water off. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the towel that they had left us. I dried off my body and then wrapped my hair up. I slid on my night clothes and brushed my teeth real quick. A brought a few things such as deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush, a few pair of underwear, a brush, hairtie, and an emergency medical kit in a bag. They allowed us to bring one bag with whatever we felt we needed. I then walked out of the bathroom to find that Grayson had layed out all the weapons they had given us. Two shotguns, two pistols, two machetes, one bow, and tons of ammunition. I took a deep sigh; I had never really been a violent person and reality was starting to hit that if I wanted to survive: I was going to have to learn. I brushed my hair and threw it up in a bun real quick and approached Grayson.

“Teach me please.” I said staring at the weapons.

“What?” He said shocked.

“Grayson, I’ve never been a violent person. I never wanted anything to do with weapons. I’ve never even shot a gun. If we are going to survive , I need you to teach me. So please teach me.” I said and stood there patiently.

“Okay, lets start off easy. This is a machete. They are probably going to used for collecting materials, cutting down branches, stuff like that. But if you are going to use it as a weapon, it’s very sharp but it’s a very up and personal weapon. So I would personally only use this as a weapon if the person was on top of me or in proximity of me.” He showed me how to properly hold and use the machete and how to put the machete safely away.

“Next we have the guns. Place the heel of your non-dominant hand in the exposed portion of the grip so that it completely fills the space. The thumb of your non-dominant hand should be right underneath and slightly forward of your dominant hand’s thumb and against the frame. Wrap your other four finger firmly around the base of the grip, just underneath the trigger guard and around your dominant hand on the other side of the grip. Grip tightly. Assume a proper shooting position with your feet shoulder width apart and your knees slightly bent. Don’t lock out your knees and don’t flex your leg muscles, but establish a grounded base with the lower half of your body. Square your shoulders and lean forward slightly with your torso. Then you aim and pull the trigger. This will be the most used weapon in the case of self defense.” Not only did he verbally explain it but he physically showed me. The whole time he spoke his mouth was speaking into my neck as his hand were placed on mine showing me just exactly how to hold the gun and use it. The deep ness of his voice as he was explaining everything to me was extremely hot. Shit (Y/N) don’t fucking think like that? He won’t fucking feel the same way and you’re just getting your fucking hopes up for them to be squashed.

“Thank you Grayson for showing me. Hopefully I’ll be good enough to survive.” I said as I helped him put up the weapons.

“No problem (Y/N), remember my promise. We both are making it out of here alive.” He said and placed the bag in the corner of the room.

“I’m going to take a shower real quick.” He said and grabbed his things and went into the bathroom. I laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling fan. My thoughts were all over the place. What exactly was going to happen in this simulation? What if Grayson and I aren’t soulmates? What if we are? What happens if we survive? What happens if we die? What happens if I die? Why was Grayson so fucking hot? Why am I falling for a guy that I’ve recently just gotten back in touch with? I mean we knew each other when we were younger and I remember we were kind of close but everything before my Dad’s death is a blur. Everything from my childhood, what little bit of a childhood I had, is long forgotten. I had to grow up fast, graduate fast, start working fast, and do so much more faster than everyone else my age. What if my dad never died? Would Grayson and I have gotten closer? Could we have ended up together? Who knows?

“You Good?” Grayson askes sending me out of my spiraling state of my thoughts. Shit great going (Y/N) I thought.

“Yeah, sorry I was just thinking about this whole situation. I’m good though.” I lied, hopefully he didn’t question it.

“Okay, I’m here if you ever need to talk.” He said climbing into the bed next to me. He had a feeling she was lying. He knew she conceded more than she needed to. He want to comfort her, have her trust, to be able to help. But he knew she wasn’t going to until she felt comfortable. He remembered his childhood memories that he had with her. They were close, some say even as close as he was with Ethan, the used to play Family and they always were pretend married. 8-year old Grayson would always get mad when Ethan would put up a fight to be (Y/n)’s fake husband. Then all of a sudden, (Y/N) and her family stopped showing up. His mom told him that (Y/N)’s father had died but 8-year old Grayson really didn’t understand. He just missed (Y/N) and it followed him until around high school when he tried to forget her but as soon as he saw her name on the list next to his, all the feelings rushed back. When he saw her sitting in his favorite coffee café, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her. He loved her, he didn’t realize it when he was 8 but he has always been protective over her. When she seemed to have forgotten everything from their childhood, his heart slowly broke realizing she doesn’t remember the love they had for each other as children. So he tries to hold his feelings down and give her time. When he promised they would make it out alive he meant mostly her, if he had to die for her to survive, he would gladly take the bullet, the knife, electrocution, any form of death, as long as she survived.

“Thank you Grayson. I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. I set the alarm clock by the table to go off at around 7:20 so that we can get ready and awake. Good night.” I said as the time was currently 10:30 pm. I knew I was going to need decent sleep tonight because I probably won’t get any, any time soon. Also if I was asleep I didn’t have a chance to embarrass myself even more in front of Grayson.

“Good night, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.” He said and turned the lights off. He rolled over facing the opposite side of me. I could hear his soft breathing as he slowly fell asleep and that helped me fall asleep.

At 7:20, the next morning the alarm went off. Grayson and I both got up and got dressed in our clothes. We also grabbed everything we need. Grayson help me strap the machete to my side as well as the pistol. At 8:00, the guards unlocked our door and took us outside. The area was huge but artificial as past the fake sky you could see metal beams. The pushed us in and then left, locking the door behind them. We were in the middle of nowhere. We began walking, trying to find a safe spot to set up camps, when gunshots were fired from far on the other side.

First Casualty: Emily Brown The annocenent rang through the whole complex. Not even five minutes in and shit has hit the fan. This was going to be more difficult than Grayson and I knew.

———————————————————————

Part two is done! I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on how the series is going so far.As always let me know if you have any requests, concepts, or blurbs. Part three will probably be up in the next few days. Part six of The Principals office will probably be up before Part Three of PANIC ROOM. Love you guys 🥺😊💛

Tags: @dolanshellyes @graysavant @graydolan12 @flowerydolan @dolan-bliss @justordinaryjen @fandomsfeministsandothershit @dolans4lyfe @lanelessdolan @pineappledols @reblogserpent

#grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan #grayson dolan angst #dolan twins au #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins #imagines #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine

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punk-rock-pixie · 7 years

Note

1-100

I need to be careful what I ask for lmao

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

Spotify

is your room messy or clean?

It’s messy rn just cuz I was looking for something

what color are your eyes?

Hazel

do you like your name? why?

Yeah. Picked it myself.

what is your relationship status?

single

describe your personality in 3 words or less

Really McFuckin Gay

what color hair do you have?

Black and blue

what kind of car do you drive? color?

Grey chevy cruz

where do you shop?

I’m a slut for Barns and Noble lately. Dropped $60 on classic ghost stories, Norse Mythology, and a Deathly Hallows journal. I’ve dropped over $100 literally in the last two months on books. I don’t work anymore though so that won’t be a thing anymore

how would you describe your style?

Sad college kid chic

favorite social media account

Youtube

what size bed do you have?

Queen

any siblings?

One older sister.

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

The Nordic region. They’ve been doing so much right in terms of education and gender equality.

favorite snapchat filter?

The anime one

favorite makeup brand(s)

NYX, E.L.F. and Bare Essentials

how many times a week do you shower?

I shower every other day, but I wash my hair like every 3-4 days to keep the color in.

favorite tv show?

Currently, really love trollhunters.

shoe size?

Like a 7 in mens or something

how tall are you?

5′6.5″ The half is so important to me because I’ve hardly grown since 2012

sandals or sneakers?

Trick question- no shoes at all. Our feet get hurt like men.

do you go to the gym?

Rarely, but yes.

describe your dream date

Dear god. Almost any date I’d be okay with. Coffee? Sign me the fuck up. Hang around a park/go on a walk? Lemme get my heckin sneakers. Cryptid hunting in the wee hours of the night? You just won my heckin heart buddy.

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

Like $30-$40 I think????

what color socks are you wearing?

None sock

how many pillows do you sleep with?

Too many for my own good.

do you have a job? what do you do?

Not anymore :)))) There weren’t enough hours.

how many friends do you have?

How many friends? Many. How many close ones? Like 3-4

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

Something I’d rather not say.

whats your favorite candle scent?

Lavender always but peppercorn and pumpkin are the ones I’ve been using lately.

3 favorite boy names

Marshal

Ethan (NOT BECAUSE OF NESTOR)

Quinn

3 favorite girl names

Rose

Sadona

Rickie

favorite actor?

Always and forever Chris Evans, but also Hugh Jackman found his way back to my heart recently. The Rock, Ramin Karimloo, Sean Gunn, Michael Rooker

favorite actress?

Zoe Saldana, Zendaya, Melissa McCarthy, Allison Janney, Julie Andrews, Maryl Streep.

who is your celebrity crush?

See above two questions, but mainly Hugh Jackman, Chris Evans, and Zendaya

favorite movie?

If you couldn’t tell, I’m hyperfixating on Greatest Showman, but also Book of Life, Monster in Paris, 1937 Phantom of the Opera

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

My favorite book is Dracula currently, but I also love Dodie Clark’s “secrets for the mad”, most of Shakespeare’s plays and Edgar Alan Poe’s works

money or brains?

Brains.

do you have a nickname? what is it?

I have way to many dude.

how many times have you been to the hospital?

Like 7-8 I think???

top 10 favorite songs

In no order:

-I’m counting all of greatest showman as one

-Cat Stevens: Father and Son

-Raspberries: Go all the way

-Silver: Wham Bam Shang a Lang

-Babeo Baggins: Thunder Bird

-Dodie Clark: You

-Beatles: Wanna Hold Your Hand

-Vanessa Paradis and Sean Lennon: La Seine

-Dear Evan Hansen: For Forever

-Karen O: Moon Song

do you take any medications daily?

No but I should probably get back on them.

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

Normal to oily

what is your biggest fear?

Abandonment :) Also I have claustrophobia

how many kids do you want?

I mean if we’re talking baby goats, as many as I can afford.

whats your go to hair style?

I kinda just brush my hair back and hope for the best

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

It’s not a mansion, but it’s pretty big

who is your role model?

@thatsthat24

what was the last compliment you received?

From @mild-soapog something about how I deserve a wholesome life and honestly I just love Elle???

what was the last text you sent?

“Hey, how are you feeling?” to a former coworker

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

I grew up Jewish so I never really thought it.

what is your dream car?

I don’t really care tbh. I’m pretty happy with the one I have.

opinion on smoking?

You do you just not around me cuz I will cough like a mad man.

do you go to college?

Soon

what is your dream job?

Professional film or stage actor or singer/guitarist in a band

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

suburbs

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

Nope. I’m a good noodle.

do you have freckles?

Several

do you smile for pictures?

Yes, but only after make a bunch of stupid faces

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

659

have you ever peed in the woods?

Yes and uh 4/5 would not recommend

do you still watch cartoons?

Yup

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

Neither.

Favorite dipping sauce?

hek dude idk

what do you wear to bed?

Usually like a tank top and underwear. if it’s super cold I’ll wear sweats too

have you ever won a spelling bee?

Have I ever even competed in one????

what are your hobbies?

Guitar, singing, ukulele, drawing, writing poetry

can you draw?

I’d say so

do you play an instrument?

Check hobbies with the addition of bass guitar

what was the last concert you saw?

I think it was a Beatles tribute band???

tea or coffee?

Both

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

Starbucks

do you want to get married?

Honestly, first let me find someone local that will love me for more than 4 months

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

HJ, EJ, EN.

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

You mean… IF I get married

what color looks best on you?

Blacks and purples

do you miss anyone right now?

Several people

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

usually closed

do you believe in ghosts?

Yes and no???

what is your biggest pet peeve?

chewing with your mouth open, snoring, pen clicking, leg jiggling (if it’s in my peripheral vision)

last person you called

My crush actually. He and I are friends and I asked if we wanted me to hang with him after school since he had to stay up until I had my callback scheduled

favorite ice cream flavor?

Chocolate chip cookie dough and cookies and cream

regular oreos or golden oreos?

What the shit are golden oreos

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

Rainbow cuz I’m queer

what shirt are you wearing?

A black tank top

what is your phone background?

a greatest showman wallpaper

are you outgoing or shy?

it depends on the situation

do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yes but ONLY IF THEY ASK BEFORE HAND.

do you like your neighbors?

I don’t even know my neighbors

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

Both

have you ever been high?

nope

have you ever been

Nope

last thing you ate?

Like half a pizza

favorite lyrics right now?

Idk my favorite currently, but these are the ones that keep circling my head

“When the world becomes a fantasyAnd you’re more than you could ever be‘Cause you’re dreaming with your eyes wide openAnd you know you can’t go back againTo the world that you were living in'Cause you’re dreaming with your eyes wide open

So Come alive”

summer or winter?

Winter

day or night?

Night

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

All????

favorite month?

October-November

what is your zodiac sign

Scorpio

who was the last person you cried in front of?

Honestly, I have no fuckin clue lmaooooo

#pixie interrogation #punkrockpixie #anonymous

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