10 Year Old Me Watching Present Day Me Develop A Crush On Another Fictional Misunderstood Slytherin Boy

10 year old me watching present day me develop a crush on another fictional misunderstood slytherin boy thanks to the release of hogwarts legacy: i know

i spend more time making up lore than writing it down

Do you ever read a fic so interesting you want behind the scenes lore, ten pinterest moodboards and one of those fancy .gif edits but none of that exists bc it's a fanfic?

Resurgence

A/n this is a product of me going with the flow to get rid of some writer’s block, i originally wanted to write a jason x reader story but this became much more background heavy and turned into something else so i’m thinking maybe mini series! some found family vibes, idk though

Summary: After an impulsive attempt to run away with your best friend ends in an accident that alters everything about you (literally--like on a genetic level), you’re pushed into the Titan’s world. 

----

Earlier. 

I know it’s too early for total cynicism, but the note Jenna left out on the counter doesn’t allow for much else. A passive aggressive, vague scribbling reminding me that just because we went to bed and woke up doesn’t mean the fight is over. The note is taped to a box of cereal because she’s pointedly reminding me that there’s a reason she’s not here making me breakfast. Whatever. 

I pour myself a bowl before pulling open the door to the fridge. The nearly empty carton of milk is expired. Perfect.

My phone starts to buzz before I can get rid of souring milk. Violet’s contact name and picture takes up my screen as I pick up the device. “Hey.” 

“Do you remember yesterday? When you were talking about just getting in a car and driving anywhere and everywhere and never looking back?”

Intense way to start a before 8AM call. “Weird conversation starter... but yeah.” 

She sighs, the sound a puff of air into my receiver. “I took my step dad’s car, I’m about to pass your house, do you want to come with me?” 

Oh my god. She’s lost it. “Are you insane?” 

“Do you want to get out of here or not?” 

My eyes fall to the skirt of my uniform and then to Jenna’s note. Memories of last night’s argument hit with no warning. “Let’s go.” 

----

Present.

There’s light and then I’m plunged back into darkness. A nothingness that I can feel. A nothingness that aches. Get up. Get up. Get-- 

My body won’t move. I latch onto the only thing I can, the faint prickle of light from behind my eyes. It’s kind of...irritating. And I can hear a strange, flat ringing. I screw my eyes shut tighter, a touch of mobility returning. Slowly, enough of it comes back for me to open my eyes. 

Okay. I’m staring at a roof. Not at the sky...and not at Violet’s...The thought brings me back to the pain in my body. Everything is sore, but I’m resting somewhere that should be comfortable. A bed, not the side of the road...not the last place I remember. 

Wait--where am I? I sit up fully, the buzzing noise turns into a sporadic mess of beeping. Each bump of noise feels like it’s striking me in the head. My hands stretch forward to rub my face. The movement feels like mush and restrained. 

My eyes drop to my arms. There’s a tube sticking out of my arm, an object I vaguely register as an IV. A few other wires are sticking out from me, including a tube in my nose. Okay--this is getting weird. I sit up a little more before twisting my fingers around the oxygen tube. 

“I wouldn’t--” My body presses as far back into the cot as I physically can before snapping my head forward. There’s a guy standing next to one of two chairs lined neatly against a wall. “I don’t think you should touch that.” 

Has he been here the entire time? And--and what is ‘the entire time’? How long has it been since Violet? 

The question claws its way all the way to the tip of my tongue. I clamp my mouth shut to keep from asking it because I already know. After what I saw...what I felt...I know the answer. No one gets put back together after going through what happened to Violet and the last thing I want right now is to get into it with a stranger who may or may not be a danger. Speaking it into the world feels too real, too solid a vulnerability. 

All I can do is stare at the stranger. His neat brown hair and put together posture seem mature enough that he could be a doctor if I’m going with the assumption that this is a hospital, but that doesn’t feel right. He’s not wearing a lab coat and his clothing feels a little too casual. He also feels a little too young to have finished med school. 

“...You’re not a doctor.” 

He takes my analysis well, tilting his chin down quickly in some sort of nod. “No.” The stranger takes a small step forward, more of a shift in my direction. “What do--do you know where you are? Do you remember anything?” 

The question is a jab to already bruised ribs. Do I remember? Remember the car that came out of nowhere, that started chasing us at the gas station; the box Jenna pulled out from under the seats; the electric feeling of that liquid in my veins; waking up again and seeing the wreckage, seeing Jenna... 

I swallow it all down, eyeing the stranger a little more cautiously. The urgency is weird. There are only so many reasons for a stranger to be in a hospital room with me. There’s a small chance he’s just some kind of good samaritan, who found me bleeding out somehow. He could also be with the people from the car or--or something else. Something bigger. 

“Why do you care?” The words feel too raspy to have any real bite. “Actually, a better question--who even are you?” 

His eyebrows draw together briefly, almost reluctantly. “I’m Dick Grayson.” 

It’s a patient introduction, not exactly soft but politer than I expected. I don’t know what the appropriate reaction is, so I just nod. 

Something about the way he’s lingering tells me that this strange interaction hasn’t been enough for him. Dick is going to push his questions or ask something else or maybe even justify his presence, but before he gets to do any of that, the door is pushed open. 

A woman in a lab coat doesn’t even throw a curious glance in Dick’s direction. Does that indicate that he’s been in here for awhile? Or--or did he tell the hospital we’re in that I know him somehow? 

“Okay,” the doctor hums, extending the last syllable as she glances at a clipboard, “You’re looking a lot better after the scare you gave us.” Her eyes shift away from my chart and towards the heart monitor that’s now beeping steadily, “Hm. That last alert must have been some kind of system error.” 

Whatever that means. “Uh--scare?” 

She presses her lips together, briefly turning her attention back to the clip board. “You were rushed into treatment, your body has experienced significant trauma.” The doctor pauses to take a breath, “Maybe this would be better discussed later. With a parent.” 

“What happened after...the accident?” She still seems unsure. “Please.” 

The doctor lets out a hesitant sigh, “During your treatment, your heart briefly stopped.” I--I flatlined? “But after you restabilized, there were no further complications and you seem well on your way to making a full recovery.” I nod blankly. “Is there anyone we should call for you?” Ugh. Jenna’s so going to kill me. “Could you use a minute first?” 

“A minute sounds like a good idea.” Whoever Dick Grayson is, he has no issue over inserting himself. 

The doctor nods, being suspiciously unsuspicious of the random guy, “Alright, I’ll be back.” 

She leaves; Dick doesn’t. I turn my arm over, staring at the IV in my arm. Maybe if I’m quiet enough, he’ll leave. 

“You remember the accident.” Guess the assumption that he’d just leave was an optimistic one. 

My fingers twist the thin fabric of the hospital blanket. “Did you find me or something?” 

Dick pauses, thinking about the best way to answer what must feel like a fragile question. “Or something.” Weird. “That car you were in, it wasn’t yours.” 

Great, now I’m not only going to have to tell Violet’s parents what happened to her, I’m also going to get arrested for stealing a car. “No.” 

The confession has no affect on him. He seemed sure enough in his assumption, so maybe he already decided my answer wouldn’t matter. “Did you know what was in the car?” 

There’s a generalness in the question that I could use to my advantage--should use to my advantage--but the memories resurfacing make all rational thought impossible. The stuff in the car is what got me here. 

“No,” the answer is more honest than I should be, “Not until after.” 

His eyebrows pinch together, a hint of something less stoic bleeding into his expression. Maybe a touch of empathy. It’s not overbearing or much, but the shift is enough to make me feel exposed. Too exposed for some guy who I met through a hospital room and has only given me his name. A part of me wishes my phone was on me--a google search could potentially help. 

I flatten my hands on my lap. “How do you know about the car?” The last people that knew about the weird fluid rammed themselves into a car until it flipped off a bridge. He could easily be working for them--some nice enough looking guy to make sure I woke up without freaking out and alerting anyone.

“I’m not with them.” Dick provides his defense stiffly, like he’s aware of its lack of strength. 

The call button is only inches away from my hand. “Right, ‘cause the people that used a car to push my car off a bridge are for sure above lying.” 

He takes another mini-step forward. “I’m actually trying to help you.” 

Another thing he can’t prove. “Then tell me how you know about the blue stuff.” 

Dick tries to suppress a sigh. I can’t tell if he was working under the assumption that I’d just wake up and happily go along with whatever. “...Because I’ve been looking for it.” 

“That’s not sketchy at all.”

Something else tugs at his expression that’s different than before. Not pity or an apology, more like a general acknowledgement of how weird he’s being. “I saw the accident.” The words hit harder than they should considering the lack of meanness. “One of the vials was missing.” 

Right before the accident, I opened the small box to see what Violet was talking about. I took one of the vials out to examine it and then the car flipped. “So you have the other vials?”

My question isn’t appreciated. “Do you know what happened after the accident?” The first few minutes, I was still awake. Conscious enough to crawl my way out of the car, but everything after that is stuck behind a dark wall. He takes my silence as an answer. “The battery was completely fried, but the engine was still running.” 

That’s a fun fact? “Uh--cool?” I never did ask him anything that would reveal how mentally well he is. “I must have missed that while trying to crawl out of it before it exploded or something.” 

“I didn’t--” The corner of my mouth turns up a little at his slight unease. I wasn’t sarcastic with the intention of being mean or making the stranger uncomfortable, but I’m not exactly mad it happened. He seems to catch onto the fact that I’m only giving him a hard time because I can. “Cars need batteries to run.” 

Dick’s eyes stay trained on me after those words, analyzing my reaction to them. My first instinct is to dismiss it. I can’t imagine that car ever being fixed and car batteries are replaceable. That’s the least of its issues. Then it hits me--how was the engine running? “Oh.” He’s still watching. Why? “...What does a car have to do with me?” 

“The people that are looking for the vials are dangerous.” I lift an arm to gesture to my IV, a quiet way of saying no shit. “They’re going to come back.” 

My stomach knots at that. It’s not like I necessarily thought this was all over, but I hadn’t considered what could happen next. “I don’t have the missing vial.” As far as I know, he’s no one important, but the urge to get him to believe me hits hard and fast. “It probably fell and--and shattered or something.” 

His expression doesn’t give me anything to work with. “If you come with me, I can test if it had any effects on you--”

Okay, I know a kidnapping scam when I see one. “You’re kidding, right?” He keeps his blankness, his posture somehow straighter than it was before. Dick’s radiating a sense of authority that’s definitely practiced. “Are you asking or telling?” 

“I’m trying to help.”

“And if I don’t want your help because there’s no way some weird, lab goo did anything to me?” My hand shifts forward, reaching for the remote with the help button. “You seem nice enough, thank you for not leaving me to die in some underpass, but I think it’s time you go. Good luck with your goo situation.” 

Dick’s eyes drop down to my hand. In about two steps, he’s at the side of my bed. “Don’t.” 

I’ve never wanted to press a button more in my life. My thumb finds the trigger, but before I can press it, a strong grip secures itself around my wrist. He moved so quickly, I’m still registering the fact that he went to grab me. Who is this guy?

Before I can warn him that I have nothing against screaming bloody murder until someone separates us, I’m snapped out of my thoughts. My body feels disconnected, like it’s floating. 

A light flickers behind my eyes, glazing over my vision. Some strong, hard to name thing pulls at my stomach, an even stronger feeling settles in my chest. That one is easier to listen to as something flickers to the front of my mind like a hazy memory or unfinished dream. I can’t tell what it is, but my body knows to trust it. To believe it. Do I know him? 

The feeling is so close to familiarity that it feels like a physical hit. My fingers go slack, and the remote slips from my grasp and onto the cot. He lets go and moves back into place immediately. 

I know that deciding whether or not to let some random guy run some sort of test on me cannot be a choice so influenced by a vibe. But what I saw has drained most of the fight from me. Maybe it’s a side effect of the car accident. Like some type of internal bleeding? 

“Sorry, I don’t--” 

“You want to run some tests on me or--?” It’s more of a summary for me than a direct question for him. Ugh. Maybe if he had asked for anything less weird...then again, I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t be weird from a stranger that’s just in my hospital room. “How do you even know about this?” 

He hesitates, “Long story.” 

Helpful. I guess it is kind of comforting that he’s this bad at getting me to want to come with him, because no respectable kidnapper would be this openly weird. And that instinct is still at the back of my mind, urging me to trust him. “You get that you’re super sketchy, right?” If this is some kind of trap, I deserve what I’m going to get. “If I agree, can I borrow a phone to call someone?” Grabbing my phone wasn’t a priority when I crawled out of that car, and I really doubt it somehow miraculously made its way to the hospital with me. 

“Parents?” 

Jenna’s so gonna kill me. “Sort of.” I’m not in the mood to get into my living situation, so I just stare at my sheets before he can ask. “What? You’re the only that gets to be cryptic?” The attempt at humor surprises me. He’s still a stranger, but my head isn’t accepting that. 

“You can call them.” 

“Then...okay.” I’m going to end up on dateline and my episode will be so boring some girl with a true crime podcast will skip my episode. “But if you’re some kidnapping serial killer, I will fuck you up.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up a bit, like something about what I said is amusing him. Kind of rude, considering that I’m being completely serious, but I can’t decide if that makes me feel better or worse about my decision. 

----

This might be one of the nicest buildings I’ve ever stepped foot in. It’s not like the building Dick’s led me to is overly extravagant, but it’s definitely structured in a way that feels well off. Like it’s owned by the kind of rich person that’s so wealthy they don’t feel the need to prove it. 

“Dude,” I give myself a second to take in the space, “If you had led with how nice this place is, we could’ve skipped the whole hospital argument.” 

My presence here feels a little bit like a smudge. It’s not like I’m always put together or feel like I should be overly dressed up, but the hospital gave me back what I was wearing during the accident. Because Violet decided to runaway before school, I left the house in my uniform. It’s not the cruelest thing I’ve seen a Catholic school put someone in, but the plaid skirt and white button down don’t do much for my confidence, and they didn’t exactly hold up in the chaos of the accident...neither did my hair or face. 

“Really?”

I shrug, still looking around the space, “It definitely wouldn’t have hurt.” Tugging on the dirt smeared edge of my sleeve,  I turn back to him. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” It’s not information I really wanted to give, but I’m already here. It’s not like he can double kidnap me if that’s what this is, and knowing who I am won’t change anything. If he tries to use me for ransom all he’ll be able to get from Jenna is an IOU. “Felt weird that I hadn’t said that yet.” 

The car accident must have seriously damaged my self preservation abilities, or maybe it’s the fact that anything I can latch onto is a distraction from Violet, because I step further into the room, fully entering the space and seeing the full living room. 

Two heads on the side of the couch that I couldn’t see before snap towards me so quickly it almost feels like they moved in sync. The one farthest from me has a dark purple bob and the boy next to her has green hair. The stare off is a little weird and refuels my doubts. They both look a lot closer to my age than Dick’s. 

The girl breaks the silence, “Who’s this?” 

I’m not sure if that’s a question directed at me or Dick, but I answer anyway, “I--” 

“You wanted to call someone, right?” Dick steps up so that he’s next to me, handing me an unlocked cell phone. 

Weird place to jump in, but at least he isn’t being cagey and taking away my ability to contact someone. “Yeah.” I take the phone, already dreading this conversation. “Could I get some water?” 

“Kitchen’s that way, take whatever you want.” Looking through a rich guy’s fridge might take the sting out of being berated by Jenna. 

I start walking in the direction he gestured towards. “Cool.” 

After finding the kitchen, I dial Jenna’s number. She answers on the second ring. “Okay--don’t freak out.” 

“Where the fuck are you? Were you kidnapped?” 

“One, that sounds like freaking out. Two, why are you always assuming I’ve been kidnapped?” 

She sighs before getting my name out in a way that tells me to not mess with her right now. That makes me cut to the chase, summarizing majority of what happened and glossing over what I can’t get out or explain. She gets extra mad when I tell her that I followed a stranger home just because they said they found me. Jenna rightfully yells at me, and then finally asks me where I am. 

The realization that I have no clue makes me feel a lot worse about the situation. I paid extra attention on the drive here, but no part of this felt like any part of Gotham I’ve ever been to. Maybe it’s because it’s a richer area? 

I duck my head back into the living room, “Hey, Dick?” He looks up from the two in the living room, who I guess he was giving some context to. “I’m on the phone and someone wants to pick me up. Where are--” Jenna cuts me off in that way of hers, reminding me how much I suck at giving directions. “Uh--she wants to talk to you.” 

His eyebrows draw together, “Your mom?” 

Shrugging, I start walking towards him. “Uh--my Jenna,” I hold the phone out towards him, “That’s like having a mom, just...louder.” He eyes the phone oddly. “You’ll see.” He’ll have to, Jenna gets her way. 

Dick takes the phone, instantly catching on to what I meant and stepping away to talk to her. He throws out the part of stolen car, which would have been nice for him to keep to himself. Then he says...San Francisco, which makes no sense to me because Violet and I were nowhere near California. That’s where she wanted to go, but we barely made it out of Gotham before it all happened. 

I blink, sitting down on the couch in shock. My head then turns to the boy next to me, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” 

After a second, he smiles politely and says, “Gar.” 

“Nice to meet you,” a little awkward, but he’s looking at me so politely I can’t help but fall back on normal habits, “Are we not in Gotham?” 

He briefly looks confused and then a little apologetic, “No.” 

Great, I’m brain damaged. That’s the only logical explanation for how I got to San Francisco without even realizing it. “...Cool.” 

The girl sits up a little more, looking over at me, “Are you okay?” 

“Uh,” all of my potential answers make me sound insane, “I’ve been better.” 

Dick’s conversation with Jenna seems to be getting calmer, which bugs me a little. I can’t explain it, it’s just suspicious that he’s not only this super upstanding guy that helped me get to and from the hospital, he’s also capable of getting Jenna on his side. He ends the call. 

Before he can give any kind of update, I’m already up, “How am I not in Gotham?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. “You said you saw the accident, so that means you got me here.” 

“No.” I wonder how quickly I could get out of here. My body’s still sore, but pain’s something to worry about later. “I--exaggerated on how much I saw.” 

He’s not exactly helping himself, “So you've been lying this entire time.” 

“I didn’t want to scare you.” 

That sounds like something a kidnapper would be worried about. Panic rises in my chest and the room feels too hot, too charged. The lights briefly waver and that only adds to my stress. “Then how did I get here?” 

Dick’s looking at me the same way he did in the hospital. A hesitant sort of empathy. It’s restrained, but it feels so genuine that my stomach twists. If he’s not the one that dragged me here, then that means that--and how much time did I lose? 

It feels too naive to believe him just because of a look, but that would explain a lot. If he had seen the accident, he would have had more questions. He probably would have mentioned Violet. “How’d you find me? And--and why’d you say that stuff about the car battery?” 

“They had you, and the battery thing was a little different than what I said.” The confirmation is a punch to the gut. How long was I out? What did they do to me? Why did they take me when they had the vials? “Jenna’s flying out first thing tomorrow.” I must look like I’m about to snap, because he’s making a point of keeping his words even and slow. I don’t know how she’s going to fly out considering she maxed out her credit card trying to buy concert tickets. “We can get you something more comfortable to wear and something to eat before we get into anything else.”

He’s just trying to be nice, understanding, but it makes me feel too much like a little kid. Especially since there are two people around my age watching this play out. There’s still a chance this is some kind of trap, but it’s a little too late to decide if I trust him. I give in with a reluctant nod.

----

The shower pressure I just experienced is something that I can’t see myself forgetting. Before I walked into the bathroom the girl, who I learned is named Rachel, brought me something comfortable. Some elastic pajama pants and a black crewneck.

I don’t know how much of it is Rachel being genuine or if Dick told her to hang around a little, but she showed up a little after I got out of the shower and took me to a guest bedroom so I could put away my clothes. She then walked me to the kitchen, awkwardly admitted that they’re overdue for a grocery run before giving me some options. 

Rachel ends up making me a grilled cheese. It’s a little awkward letting a stranger do something for me, but it’d feel even weirder casually using an unfamiliar kitchen like I live here. 

My hunger felt all consuming until food was put in front of me. I keep thinking of Violet and all the hours I lost. But rationally, I know I should eat something and that it’d be kind of rude not to, so I take small bites of the edge of my sandwich. 

I’m still working on the first triangular half when Gar shows up, offering me another polite smile. I force myself to return it even though the day’s starting to catch up with me. 

“Uh-hey,” he walks into the kitchen, “I know I introduced myself earlier, but that was...” Gar brushes that train of thought away with a small breath, “Uh--are you feeling better?”  

I nod, turning to face him, “The shower helped.” I set my half of the grilled cheese down, “I picked so many twigs out of my hair.” Why would I say that? 

“Yeah, you look a little better.” He reaches the counter, tapping his fingers on the counter, “Not that you looked bad before! Just that you look like you’re feeling a little better.” 

The correction comes out like a knee-jerk reaction. Like he really thought he might have offended me. “I get it,” I can’t help but smile a little, “And absolutely no worries if you had meant it the other way, I saw myself in the mirror. I definitely looked accurate to my car accident.” I thought mentioning the car accident casually would make it feel breezy and normal, but it just feels sad. “There’s no non-weird way to say that.” 

“It’s fine.” Gar’s words come out so assured I almost believe him, “We’ve heard weirder.” 

Rachel nods, “A lot weirder.” 

I look between the two of them before taking another bite out of my grilled cheese. They’re both looking at me while trying to pretend that they’re doing something else. I guess I know how my 4th grade class guinea pig felt. 

A part of me wants to start conversation. Some of it is the awkward feel of silence and some of it is the urge to return their niceness, but I’m also tired and not sure how much of a point there is. Tomorrow, I’ll be back home and likely permanently grounded. 

“Do you feel like we’re hovering?” Rachel’s question takes me by surprise. Before I can instinctually tell them that they’re both fine, she continues, “We can give you some space if you want. I know it’s a little overwhelming.” 

What is? Showing up here? The accident? It shouldn’t matter considering that I’m leaving tomorrow. “Some quiet might be nice,” I admit, “Just because Dick’s probably going to show up and get me to--” He never did specify what he was going to check out about me. Do they know that’s why I’m here? Also--why are they here? “I don’t even know. Just something I’m not really looking forward to.”

“We get it,” Rachel hums, stepping away from the counter, “We’ll give you a minute.” 

The two actually leave, a part of me is surprised at how genuine that was. They didn’t even linger like I might at best steal something and at worse finally snap. I get two minutes of quiet before the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen puts me back into focus mode. 

I tilt my head slightly, expecting Rachel or Gar or maybe even Dick. It’s...none of them. The person I don’t know walks straight past me and towards the fridge. They open it, the small light illuminating their skin in a way that makes the sheen of sweat impossible to ignore.

He pulls out a bottle of water, shuts the door, and then looks at me. There’s no hint of surprise as his eyes briefly focus on my face before trailing downwards. Is he-- “Something happen to your face?” 

This again. Stupid car accident had to bust my lip and bruise my face. “Uh--” While Rachel and Gar were attentive and purposefully polite, trying to apply regular social standards to an abnormal situation, this guy doesn’t seem to care about that at all. The thought of just blankly stating the car accident thing again, especially to someone this forward, is so unappealing I just blurt out, “Drug deal gone wrong.” 

Oh my god, the more I interact with people, the more I realize there has to be something seriously wrong with me. Like brain damage. Like over-40-pro-football player lever of concussed. 

Before I can say anything, he tilts his head again, looking me over more openly than before, "Right, because you seem the type.” 

I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or amused. Probably the first one. “The best drug dealers don’t seem like drug dealers.” 

“Really?” There’s a level of kind-of-there annoyance that throws me. Like irritated is his natural state and it’s miracle enough that I didn’t make it worse. But the confidence in his voice keeps it from being fully bitter. 

“No,” I tap my nails on the counter, “I just didn’t feel like getting into the car accident thing again.” 

He’s quiet for a second, “And you thought drug deals would be easier?” 

I shrug, feeling a little smaller. I can’t tell if I can’t stand him or think he’s a little funny. “Must be an early sign of brain damage.”

He tilts his water bottle in a vague gesture towards my face. “I’d believe it.” 

Rude. I know I just said it, but still. “At least I have an excuse.” 

His eyebrows draw together in offense, and it doesn’t make me feel great. He wasn’t that bad and that was sort of a jump, but I’ll probably never see him again, so... 

“What’s your--” 

Before he can get into any sort of rant, a voice cuts him off, “Jason.” Oh, it’s Dick. I turn my head enough to catch his tense look. “Leave her alone.” 

“She started it.” 

Okay, yeah, I think he annoys me more than I find him funny. “Nice come back,” I mumble, pushing away from the counter, “What are you? 12?” 

“If you want to find out--” 

Ah. I’ve been through too much today for this. "Like that line’s ever worked.” 

He isn’t swayed by my reaction, “Trust me, I don’t need--” 

“Okay,” Dick inserts himself into the conversation, and a part of me is glad for the excuse to leave. “Enough.” He then looks at me, “Are you ready?” 

At least it’ll be over soon. “As long as you don’t tell me that stuff turned me part alien or whatever.” 

He draws his eyebrows together, “Part alien?” 

“So magical science goo is real, but my thing’s unrealistic.” 

Hi! This isn’t really an ask as much as it’s a rant about how much I love the new chapter of “Final Girl” . YOU’RE AMAZING! seeing the mental affects this has all had her was so realistic, it felt like I could personally feel that distance in herself she feels it’s amazing and heartbreaking, I feel so bad for my baby :(. And like you said the boys having the AUDACITY to be shocked that she’s traumatized like THEY DIDNT TRAUMATIZE HER LIKE “Yeah I pushed you off the bridge, but I didn’t expect you to 𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺? :(” LIKEE???NO FUCK SHES NOT OKAY, YOU GUTTED HER FRIEND AND TORMENTED HER, REMEMBER?.

And gale putting her in the book just reminded me of all the conflicting feelings I have about her character in general like I love her she’s an icon, but at the same time after six movies of her disregarding the victims of ghosts face it’s really getting annoying how her character is always knocking down victims of ghosts face for money like she doesn’t have enough of it, she does it with total disregard to them.she doesn’t pay them,she doesn’t n ask them,she doesn’t even apologize like ever and with knowing all that I don’t know why I didn’t think she would exploit the mc but either way it goes I’m FUMING I adore gale and all but she’s doing my girl dirty and I’m really starting to hope she doesn’t make it to end.

Anyways all that aside THEY WERE SO TENDER THIS CHAPTER IT WAS SO SWEET THEIR DYNAMIC TOGETHER IS SO AHHHHHHHHHHHH, I’ve missed them all so much I’m gonna be sick😭, though I don’t like how gales playing my girl the up side is that ensures more protective billy and Stu (and probably a fight, maybe not a fight this time but I’ve noticed that when things get bad for her they get real pushy and she get real distant (rightfully so) and causes problems cause they’re all so insecure but that’s beside the point, fall outs mean make ups and I love those)

Any ways I realize that this is really long and I don’t expect you to read all of this but basically all I’m say is I LOVE YOU, I LOVE FINAL GIRL, AND I LOVE THEM BYE💛

omg i love you 😭 i wanted to take my time to let this absorb before responding bc of how incredibly sweet this is!

first off always feel free to rant in my asks! i love when people send me messages (especially when it's about something i wrote bc it means so much that someone read it and cared enough to say something), no matter the length and most definitely read everything! also i have never been brief about anything in my life so it would be illegal for me to judge

also i'm so happy you picked up on the psychological elements! i feel like there's so much hinted at in each ghostface, but especially billy and stu, especially their dynamic with billy having a bit of a motive and stu being presented as just having gone along with it a little more, so i try to stay true to that if nothing else, also psychology is like my second passion (i was a psych major for two days before deciding that i loved writing more) so i like to explore that side of things and i'm glad it comes across!

and yes i just had to make a joke about the way they were shocked 😭 like i'm sure the two of them could have been smart enough to think since we like y/n, maybe we just shouldn't involve her in anything ghostface related, it also has nothing to do with her bc she just moved here and has literally no context on anything! but they're a little delusional and had to give into the impulsive, and they basically made her the main character of their horror movie 😌 so it wasn't too mean, right

also you perfectly captured how i feel about gale! like she is my icon, i love her, but if i was in the scream universe i'd be so over her, ESPECIALLY if i was one of the victims, like you're going to profit off of my trauma and not even cut me a check? but she's also multi-faceted and does have her moments where she shows that she cares about people, and no spoilers, but y/n's going to have a connection/relationship with gale and it will be one of the most complicated and trying ones of y/n's life and that's saying something considering the billy and stu situation 😭

gale is also about to bring some drama! a bit of an emotional peak that i won't get into on here bc spoilers

anyways thank you sm for reading final girl and now i've rambled a bit so feel free to not read all of this lol 💗

new season of the great means i have to bring this back and let yall know i have an almost finished fic in my drafts from a little after i originally posted this 😭

do i edit it and finally let it see the light of day lol

okay i keep binge watching the great on hulu and i am so obsessed with it fr,, i kind of want to write for it (especially for peter, ik he’s extremely toxic and kinda a bad person but this is extremely on brand for me lmao)

i feel like there’s not an audience for it?? idk might write it or might not but if anyone likes the idea pls let me know 

@queencaitlin135 i feel so seen here

you’re gonna look me dead in the eyes and tell me that skeet ulrich isn’t a fucking snack???? nah babe, he’s a whole damn meal. like a six-course supper. take your (wrong) opinions elsewhere.