#( sorry this is a little short. My brain just when POOF! );

[vxidlight]

@poeticphoenix liked for a starter from the ninth Doctor.

The Doctor grabbed his leather jacket from over a pillar and pulled it on as he left the TARDIS to find out where exactly he had landed. The TARDIS was defunct -- she wouldn't be moving any time soon. He'd find a way to get her working again - he was sure of it. Closing the TARDIS doors, the Doctor turned to examine the world around him.

It was not his home that was one thing he knew for certain. It looked wrong. It smelled wrong. It felt wrong. The Doctor could feel it on his skin. It was like the world vibrated differently. He knew he shouldn't be here.

He walked until he found a town. A little snooping to find out where he was wouldn't hurt.

[racingliners]

F1 Re-Watch 2013: Round 1 - Australia

Well, given how the past few days have gone, I thought I’d have to sideline my next full-season re-watch, but for the moment here we are!

Long story short, I had way more fun than I expected watching the 2022 season back. So I decided I wanted to watch another season in full (only one with much more personal enjoyment value) so I put up a poll and 2013 won. 

Which is very fitting, as 2013 was the year I got back into watching F1, but a little more story time on that when we get to Spain and Canada.

While I watched all of the races from the second half of the season, I think I only watched 3 or 4 races from the first half in full. So a lot of these races I will have never seen before, including Aus (the irony of calling this a re-watch is not lost on me). So much rambling aside, let’s jump on in!

I forgot to add that the first three races will be out of sequence as I watched Malaysia in honour of Multi-21 day back in March

ugh the old F1 intro. Such a core memory, I miss her

fun fact I still try to make the final ‘neow’ sound in time with the intro because autism brain

“Will it be Sebastian Vettel with his fourth [title] in a row?” Yes Crofty. Yes it will.

oh it was cloudy in Melbourne on race day with a slim chance of rain. damn.

Now for the re-watch we’re still going to have starting grid whiplash but instead of “what do you mean X is starting in 12th?!” it’s going to be “Oh my god remember when Adrian Sutil was team mates with Paul di Resta?!”

(I realise this now makes me somewhat of an elder in the fandom and... well it’s too late in the evening my time to be mulling over shit like that)

anyway remember when Jenson was still driving?! 😭😭😭

this was also Lewis’ first race with Mercedes which knowing what we know now about all the success they’ve had makes me so incredibly emo

ANYWAY: Starting grid. and back in my day they started with the front row and went backwards.

RBR 1-2, Lewis P3. Jenson P10. (how tf does Raikkonen win this from P7?????)

DAN AND JEV MY BELOVEDS!!!!!!

ah, the man, the myth, the icon. Pastor Maldonado lines up in 17th

ahhhh cut to Lewis and the Merc crew, you can just about see Bono as well. To think this was just one year before the regs change and the beginning of Merc’s domination of the hybrid era and them becoming utter legends. WILD.

[Formation Lap]: Sorry I ramble a lot when I’m excited but ANYWAY the cars are moving now.

also rip Hulkenberg, his car went poof going to the grid so he didn’t make the start.

Bono and Simon Rennie reporting a chance of rain which... idk if I need that at twenty to eleven at night. (also WOW the quality of radio we have on the TV feed now is so good compared to ten years ago)

the whiplash of seeing Stefano Domenicali in the Ferrari garage as TP. Same ringleader different circus.

[Start/Lap 1]: and away we goooooooo

Seb with a good start, Massa with an even better start and just mugged Webber off the line. Alonso also went from P5 to P3, so Lewis is down a spot

damn Webber went from 2nd to 7th. ouch.

Lewis v Raikkonen for P4.

[Lap 2]: Rosberg watching behind with popcorn

Jenson in 9th... 2013 was the start of McLaren’s current woes and it was a painful year as a Jenson fan 

meanwhile, Raikkonen passes Lewis for P4. the Lotus is zoomy.

[Lap 3]: Man it does feel so strange seeing all the old team names (for any newbies, a lot of the teams on the grid now were teams from the 2013 grid rebranded. That’s why Alpine sometimes get called Team Enstone and Aston Martin Team Silverstone bc they got rebranded so much but the personnel mostly stayed the same).

but anyway a clean first few laps, on the first race of a new season, with a tiny bit of racing???? besties we did not know how good we had it.

Seb just zooming off into the distance. He didn’t win in Aus, but still the story of 2013.

“How long will these super soft tyres last?” it’s been ten years, and yet we still hate on Pirelli. oh my.

[Lap 4]: heh. remember when Perez was a McLaren driver that one time?? (spoiler alert it didn’t end well)

Not Fernando nearly crashing into Lewis at the start bc they were both trying to avoid a very slow Mark. FELLAS.

and Jenson is the first car to stop, supers for mediums.

[Lap 5]: ahem TEEEEEED!!!!!

oh wow he thinks the go-to strategy for the race is a 3 stop. a 3 stop.

It’s been 84 years.

One stop races used to be impressive bc of making the tyres last. but now they’re the norm and quite boring.

[Lap 6]: anyway replays of Dan racing van der Garde (Caterham). Midfield spice!!!

[Lap 7]: The Ferrari’s are both catching Seb. Seb’s tyres are also looking very unhealthy.

and in he pits for his first stop.

[Lap 8]: Massa is still ahead of Alonso. my eye is twitching.

nvm Massa pits to give Fernando the lead.

That’s what, three race leaders in 8 laps???

[Lap 9]: oooh Seb jumped Massa at his first stop. nice.

“Have Ferrari made a mistake with not covering Sebastian Vettel?” ...have Ferrari EVER had a functioning strategy department????

oh wow Raikkonen chasing down Alonso... it really is the 2010s. They even follow each other into the pits.

and they maintain their positions coming out of the pits, just further down the grid.

[Lap 10]: Lewis in the lead!!! (I know, he still needs to stop)

[Lap 11]: Merc 1-2. to think in 2013 that was a rarity 🤣

“Weather wise there are pretty dark clouds coming towards us” I’m in danger

[Lap 12]: Helmet watch: Seb has a super pretty cobalt blue design which I love.

[Lap 13]: “Raikkonen the fastest man on track at the moment” F1 2010s intensifies

Meanwhile the Mercs are still yet to stop while everyone else’s tyres have crumbled

ayyyy Merc engineers and Bono sighting.

[Lap 14]: and Lewis finally pits for mediums

ah yes, 2013 aka try to tell the Merc driver apart by their different shades of yellow helmet. (Nico’s was a brighter yellow, Lewis’ a more sunflower yellow, fyi)

[Lap 15]: And Rosberg pits, giving the lead of the race to... Adrian Sutil. Breathe it in folks.

“evidence there of McLaren’s lack of pace” for comparison, Jenson and McLaren won in Australia the year prior. They were very average for the two seasons before the dreaded Honda years.

[Lap 16]: Anyway I’m just trying to soak up a Force India leading the race. Go get it Team Silverstone.

The main reason why he’s still leading is because he started on the mediums as he qualified outside the top ten (2013 was also way back when you had to start on the tyre you set your Q3 lap on if you were in the top 10)

[Lap 17]: Ticking off my “wow it’s strange seeing Fernando in a Ferrari” comment

[Lap 19]: Obligatory livery watch comment: I miss it when the RBR livery was a glossy metallic sheeny blue 😭

[Lap 20]: Adrian Sutil is still in the lead

THE SCENES

the remaining top ten is Seb, Massa, Alonso, Raikkonen, Lewis, Rosberg, Jenson, di Resta and Vergne

ah. so they think that Sutil holding up the front runners helps Merc in trying to pull off a two stop.

[Lap 21]: Alonso makes his second stop, onto another set of mediums

(this was also way back when we had just two dry compounds of tyre per race instead of the three we have now)

[Lap 22]: Sutil finally makes his first stop, and Seb makes his second.

And Sutil stays ahead of Seb, and they come out behind the Ferraris.

Fun fact, Bradley Joyce of ‘BRAAAAAAAD’ fame, who is now head engineer at Aston, was Sutil’s race engineer.

ROB SMEDLEY!!! Oh I really am showing my age.

[Lap 23]: Looks like Ferrari are trying the two-stop with Massa.

Woot, Seb passes Sutil for P6!

Just to hammer home how bad a race Webber is having, he just passed Perez for 10th.

[Lap 24]: Ah, Ferrari pitted Massa. so much for the two stop.

and this is how Raikkonen gets the lead from starting P7.

[Lap 25]: Oh god. Seb closing up to Fernando.

and cut to “Rain Expected” on the Force India pit wall. I was having a great time and now I’m being ATTACKED.

Ah, Maldonado is beached in the gravel at turn 1. No VSC as that didn’t exist yet, so just waved yellows

[Lap 27]: Rosberg pulls off to the side of the track, Merc went poof

cut to a perplexed Ross Brawn and even more perplexed Merc engineers

[Lap 28]: also also the sky looks DARK 😶

and now the weather, with Simon Rennie

(potential light drops of rain at turn 13)

[Lap 29]: There’s raindrops on Massa’s t-cam

*distressed yelling*

it is indeed, ever so slightly raining. OH BOY.

[Lap 30]: I didn’t even realise that Lewis was in P2 with all the pitstop shuffles. but Alonso is very quickly catching him.

[Lap 31]: and they’re now properly battling. 2010s F1 intensifies.

but oh it’s good to watch though.

oh my god Lewis locked up braking for the corner but still stayed ahead. KING SHIT.

I mean Also did get past in the very next corner. But still, iconique.

[Lap 32]: and he comes in at the end of the lap for another stop which I’ve very much lost count at this point.

[Lap 33]: Both Force Indias are in the top 10???? Team Silverstone intensifies

In weather news I think it’s stopped raining?? so nowhere near enough rain for anyone to think about inters.

[Lap 34]: Ah, Lotus have remembered to pit Raikkonen. I want to say that’s his second stop but I’ve truly no idea at this point.

[Lap 35]: “My tyres are not going to last 23 laps at this rate” Gonna call that the og ‘Bono my tyres are gone’ for the memes.

[Lap 37]: In what I’m now calling Sutil watch: He’s in P3. P3!!!!

we’re way past midfield spice and in full on midfield elation territory.

[Lap 38]: Seb makes his final pit stop. Another set of mediums, and he’s behind Lewis in 5th

“It [Red Bull’s race] could all change when we get to Malaysia next week” nervous laughter

[Lap 39]: So, Alonso in the lead, Sutil P2, Raikkonen P3. Not the top 3 I expected to by typing out. I’m pretty sure that Force India finish off the podium but yeah, still very wild.

[Lap 40]: And Alonso makes his final stop, he comes out behind Raikkonen.

and Seb passes Lewis for P4.

Sutil still has to stop bc he needs to run the super softs.

Massa racing Lewis and it lasted all of two seconds bc of Lewis’ 2-stop strategy.

[Lap 41]: And Dan DNFs with a mechanical fault. He has the worst luck at Albert Park I swear

[Lap 42]: Webber chasing down Di Resta for 8th.

Ooooh and a nice move under braking going into turn 9

[Lap 43]: and Lewis switches over to a 3 stop. He comes out in 6th.

And Raikkonen takes the lead off Sutil, while Alonso is chasing both of them down nearly hand over fist.

[Lap 45]: “Miserable place that is” Ted not rating RBR very highly on his tour of the garages sfhauefh

oh not Sutil getting shown a blue flag when Alonso is racing him for position 😭😭😭😭

[Lap 46]: nvm Alonso passed him anyway, but still, the disrespect

FIA you can and will meet my fists 

[Lap 47]: And Sutil finally pits for the super soft tyres. That was genuinely such a good drive, we love the midfield winning

I’m not going to comment on Crofty’s “papal conclave” stats dive because otherwise I will cry laughing and it’s twenty to one in the morning.

[Lap 48]: them cutting to Martin Whitmarsh on the pitwall when McLaren are 9th and 12th, I would simply pretend there was a bad connection because OUCH

[Lap 49]: Anyway, Alonso is 7.8 seconds behind Raikkonen

And Lewis is catching is old buddy Sutil, 1.6 second gap

oh god MORE RAIN

This race really has had almost everything. whew.

the Aus GP, 100% that bitch.

oh not Brundle detailing the fallout of Lewis’ and Sutil’s friendship live on air WHAT

[Lap 51]: ANYWAY, Lewis is within DRS range, and Webber is pretty close behind them both.

oof Lewis just stormed past. And Webber gets by a few corners later.

and cut to Sutil’s tyres that already look awful wear wise

I’m shaking my fist at the sky and insulting Pirelli

[Lap 53]: Raikkonen still with a solid 7 second lead over Alonso.

[Lap 54]: 5 laps remaining klaxon

[Lap 55]: gap between Raikkonen and Alonso down to 6 seconds.

and replay of Fernando nearly spearing into a Caterham 😶

[Lap 58]: Final lap! And thanks to Brundle I just realised there hasn’t been a safety car at all this race, which for Melbourne is wild.

[Finish]: And Raikkonen wins! Alonso P2, Seb P3.

Massa, Lewis, Webber, Sutil, di Resta, Jenson and Romain Grosjean round out the Top 10.

Well! That was certainly more eventful than I expected, mainly due to trying and failing to keep track of all the pitstops. But we did get some nice splashes of racing, especially in the midfield. And more than expected whiplash of “OH!!! It’s that person!!!”. I will hopefully get used to the 2013 grid again after a few races 😅

But overall, a pretty decent race. As mentioned at the start of the post, I’ve already watched Malaysia, so the next race will be China, and then we’ll be in sync with the 2013 calendar!

[hellfirehope]

𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠－ 𝐸.𝑀

♪𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝐼 － 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢♪

Eddie Munson x Reader

Minors dni! By reading you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older. ⚠︎︎

Warnings: heavily suggestive material, swearing, driving recklessly (pls don’t do that🥺) best friends/fools in love, sexual tension, dash of angst, suggested masterbation

Idk, I’m still new at posting my fics and not really sure what all warnings to use, I’m sorry😭

ꨄ☠︎︎♪♫

Ok, so quick A/N- Murray is going to be Y/N’s stepdad. I know this sounds a little different but I haven’t seen this before and I think it will be hilarious for love-doctor (and regular little housewife) Murray to knock some sense into these fools. I’m going to go into the backstory for Y/N’s mother in the upcoming chapters, but all you need to know right now is that she passed away from substance abuse. I really hope that doesn’t trigger anyone- I just really wanted to write about the effects a parent like that can have on a child. You’re totally free to imagine she poofed into thin air lol! Also, let’s also pretend the spectacular Joan Jett and the Blackhearts released I hate myself for loving you in 1985 (when this takes place) instead of 1988. Just couldn’t resist using this awesome song. Ok, I’m done rambling- hope y’all enjoy 🫣

Eddie ruffled his young friend’s hair (much to Dustin’s fake dismay) and rushed out the building. He could still hear Dustin protesting (that kid was like a soapbox sometimes) but he wasn’t focused on anything but Y/N.

She seemed really upset. They had just been together, did something happen in the few minutes after he left?? God, why did he leave. He just had to relieve himself, had to close his eyes and imagine her breathtaking figure, breathy laugh, and mesmerizing (y/e/c) eyes. She might as well have been tattooed underneath his eyelids or ingrained in his brain.

His insecurity couldn’t help but take advantage of him in his worried state. No one upset her, she’s just realized her best friend is a disgusting horndog who can’t be in the same room with her without being a pervert. A little voice taunted him.

He wondered if she hadn’t realized yet-how? He had been able to keep it under wraps for a while. But as they got older, started changing…He couldn’t help but notice how she somehow got more breathtaking every time he saw her. He was constantly embarrassed and guilty about his feelings towards her, but still couldn’t bring his attention away from her eyes, her neck, her lips, her tits….Fuck. He was so screwed.

Despite his doubts, Eddie was nothing short of an gentleman. You rarely caught him staring. He had learned how to be subtle, after 4 years. If you did catch him, you chalked it up to hormones or his personality. Your naivety kept you from actually considering any other reason for him to gawk at you.

After searching the parking lot for an embarrassing amount of time, Eddie came to the realization you had left. Worried and confused, he hated the idea of having to wait until tonight to talk to you.

Eddie kept a brisk pace as he made his way to his trusted van, turning the keys in the ignition, and recklessly speeding out of the parking lot. A sane person may have falsely assumed he was just driving like that because he was worried about you, but that’s just Eddie .

As soon as he has started the van, loud music flooded his ears.

Eddie considers music best experienced loud. Blasting his music after school was great, but he always wished you were there to headbang with him.

♫

As you drove your black Jeep (1980 CJ-Laredo) home, you admired the surrounding scenery. It was fall, your favorite season. Orange and red leaves littered the streets and sidewalks, adding life and color to a normally boring suburb. Pumpkins and scarecrows were thoughtfully placed in almost every yard. The weather was perfect- you had to roll your windows down. Your right hand was gripping the wheel, your left was dangling outside the window, relishing in the crisp autumn air. Though you were confused about your earlier interaction with Eddie, you tried to focus on other things. It was a fruitless attempt. Does he know you’re embarrassingly obsessed with him? Did he still want to go to the concert? God you felt so pathetic, pining for him like an obsessive freak.

I hate myself for loving you began playing, and you turned the volume up.

I’m not getting jealous, don’t like looking like a clown

I think of you every night and day

You took my heart, and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you

Can’t break free from the things that you do

I wanna walk but I run back to you

That’s why I hate myself for loving you.

Rather fitting, you thought. More angry tears spilled down your face as you pulled into your driveway.

“Hey, kid, how was school?” Your step dad greeted you as you walked through the door.

“S’fine,” you unintentionally sniffled, “just tired. Going to get ready for a concert with Eds tonight. Is that ok?” You asked, already knowing his response. He adopted a pretty laid back parenting style, trusting you to make good decisions.

“Of course-go- have fun, you lovebirds!” Murray gushed.

You rolled your eyes and spun to face him. “Murray. You know me and Eds aren’t dating. We’re. Just. Friends! Do I need to learn a new language to get through to you??”

“Well you could always try Russian…” he offered jokingly.

“MURRAY. Seriously, are you trying to pimp me out or something?” you joked, lightheadedly.

Murray looked at you with mock horror, gasping dramatically.

“Listen- you are lucky enough to live under the same roof as a love genius-“

You bursted out laughing at this. “You are not a love genius!”

He chose to ignore your interruption and continue teasing you.

“If you don’t want to take advantage of my sage and WISE advice- that’s your loss! And poor Eddie’s.” He tutted.

You groaned, falling back to sit across from him on the couch.

“Eddie doesn’t like me like that.” you sighed matter-of-factly.

“And how do you know? Hmm?” He demanded.

“Uhhh…we’ve been friends for 4 years! I just know, Murray. And if he likes me so much why hasn’t he ever made a move?” You asked, embarrassed that you couldn’t help the last part coming out as more of a whine.

“Well…maybe he’s just as foolish as you, and thinks you would reject him.”

You grabbed a pillow to your left, and hit Murray with it.

“Hey!!! There’s nothing wrong with it- everyone’s a fool when they’re in love.”

“I’m not…in love.”

“Yeah, sure,” he raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Listen, I know it’s hard. You don’t want to risk a good friendship. But think about it. You could tell him and if he feels the same -WHICH HE DOES- think about how much you have to gain.” He smiled, raising his glass of vodka.

It was 6:59 and you still weren’t ready for the concert. You had a terrible habit of doing this, retreating into your own mind while working or getting ready, leaving you with no concept of time.

You were wearing black jeans and a dark red shirt, one Eddie had made for you. It was “pre-released Corroded Coffin merchandise”, according to him. There was a sick illustration of a guitar on the front. It was obviously Eddie’s guitar- it was just too metal to mistake.

Underneath the crop top, you had a black and white striped long sleeve shirt, hoping it would help with the chill.

Precisely one minute later, Eddie was knocking on your door.

Shit, you thought.

You applied the last bit of makeup you had left, and hurried down the stairs to let him in.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you realized Murray had already let Eddie in. He almost always let you greet Eddie, trying not to embarrass you with his hyper-aware personality and lack of filter.

Ugh what is his game, you wondered.

You quickened your pace, joining Eddie and Murray by the door.

Eddie was mid-conversation with your step-dad as he took you in, quite literally forgetting how to speak for a moment. He was never rude to your step-dad, always trying to make sure he liked him. It was annoying, but cute.

But that damn shirt. Good behavior could no longer be promised when you wore that.

Eddie had made it for your birthday and was so thrilled to give it to you (he actually gave it to you a week before your birthday because he couldn’t wait to see your reaction).

Now that he’s seen it on you a few times, he’s regretted ever thinking to give you something that would give you so much power over him. Not that you needed any help with that.

His most prized possession was his guitar, and seeing you, the love of his life and the (non-living) other love of his life….he just melted.

“Ok, Murray. Stop bothering Eddie and let us get to our concert.”

“Oh you can’t stay for dinner?”Murray smirked and squinted at you.

Eddie took slight notice of the dynamic going on between you and your step-dad and (of course) had to play along. He smiled innocently and met your eyes. “Actually, Y/N, I’m sorry, but I got the time messed up. We actually have another hour before we have to be there…” Eddie admitted. Although he didn’t seem to upset. The wink and smirk didn’t help.

“Dinner it is!” Murray practically squealed. He headed into the kitchen, not waiting to hear your response.

You gritted your teeth. “Dinner it is.”

Sorry this was a bit of a filler. Also, the random spaces between paragraphs, no idea what’s going on there 🥲

Anyway, hope you enjoyed? Have a safe and lovely night, babes, and remember it’s ok to imagine Eddie railing you in a cemetery, that’s totally normal and I’m definitely not projecting ❦

Blessed be.

𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒

[sunsetsandcurves]

Willex + embarrassed

tw: insects, spiders

*

Alex's never said this before, but he's terrified of insects. All kind of insects, with their little- legs and their multiple eyes and their gross buzzing- he just hates them.

He hates spiders the most. They actually scare him to death (death. Ha,) and it's usually not a big deal because it's not like there's a lot of insects in the studio, and even the mosquitoes that fly outside make him shudder.

It's not that he's embarrassed- well, maybe he is. But when he sees an insect his body reacts before his brain does and he just runs and screams and just freaks out.

And he knows Reggie and Luke (and even Julie, when she's feeling chaotic) will tease him about it forever, so he's kept his fear to himself.

And it's never been a problem, until now. Because Willie likes taking him places and now they're- he doesn't even know where they are, but there are an insane amount of trees and it's really hot and Alex even saw a freaking snake slithering around.

It's not the snake that bothers him, though. It's the freaking spiders.

They're everywhere. And the ants, and the mosquitoes and the- insect thingies he doesn't know the name of. He hates them, and he's trying not to flinch or poof away whenever one comes near him.

Willie seems to be having a lot of fun, though, holding his hand and walking around, talking about crocodiles. (Crocodiles. Oh god.) Alex doesn't want to let them down. He's been talking about this little trip for a long while now and Alex will just have to- suck it up.

He's not embarrassed of admitting his phobia. Not at all. He just- doesn't want to let Willie down. Of course.

But then Willie makes them sit on top of a fallen trunk and Alex sees the ants walking all over it and a spider leaving hurriedly and he feels like he's about to throw up.

But Willie smiles and pats the space beside them and Alex takes a shaky breath and forces himself to keep calm. He's got this.

Willie takes his hand again and starts talking about other places they want to visit and the stuff they want to do and Alex tries to pay attention to him, he really really does, but his eyes are focused on the huge spider that's slowly crawling towards him, black and fuzzy and disgusting. His throat closes up.

He doesn't even know if spiders can touch him now that he's a ghost- he's pretty sure insects can't hurt him anymore, but still. He tries to be stronger than his fear but Willie's voice becomes less understandable and his heart starts beating like crazy and the spider is so close, socloseoclosesoclose-

He can't handle it anymore. He fights back a scared yell and stands up abruptly, shaking his shorts and his t-shirt even if insects can no longer walk on him.

Willie stands up too, looking around nervously.

"What? What's wrong?"

There's panic clogging up his throat so he points towards the eight-legged demon with a shaky hand.

Willie smiles. "Is that it? It's just a little-" Alex's expression must tell he's really damn scared because Willie stops stops his teasing inmediately and comes close to him.

"It's okay. We're leaving."

They grab Alex's hand and poofs them away.

They're in Los Angeles again, Alex can tell because it's hot but not that much and (finally) there are no insects. They seat in an empty bench near a park, and Alex realizes he just freaked out on Willie and- ugh. That's so embarrassing.

He hides his face behind his hands and he feels Willie's hand rubbing his back in calming circles.

"We're okay now," they say, his voice in a whispery tone Willie knows that calms him down. "It was- um- I didn't know you were scared of spiders. I wouldn't have taken you to the freaking amazon if you'd say so, 'Lex."

Alex chuckles a little, feeling his hear finally slipping away. Now he's just ashamed.

"Sorry."

Alex looks up and Willie purses his lips.

"Why didn't you tell me? We were there with all those insects for like an hour."

Alex swallows. "I- well- I was embarrassed, okay? I didn't want you to think that I was stupid."

Willie hugs him, and Alex sighs and buries his head in Willie's chest.

"I wouldn't have thought that, man. I would never think that. You can tell me if something scares you."

"I know. It's just that- they're so ugly and dangerous and I don't want to-" he cuts himself because he realizes he was about to say he didn't want to die. Too late, he guesses.

He hears Willie chuckle.

"We're all scared of something," Alex feels them pressing a kiss against his hair, and god he feels like he's melting. "I'm scared of Shrek, for example."

"Okay."

Wait.

"You're scared of what?"

*

Willie and Alex go on dates all over the world and you can't change my mind. Thanks for the prompt!

*

Taglist: @chickwiththepurpleguitar

*

Send me a ship and a word and I'll write a little something!

[hardcasey]

Soft Hands, Soft Hearts

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 1

Pairing: Wooley x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Wooley have been pining for each other for a while, but after a few drinks at 79′s, you gain the courage to make the first move. 

Word Count: 3.3k 

Rating/Warnings: G, this is just pure fluff 🥺

A/N: Okay, so I had the idea to make a series devoted to giving the background clones the love they deserve. I have ideas for a bunch of different clones, but if their are any specific boys you are interested in, please let me know! I started with Wooley because I was feeling soft and he is baby (sorry, I don’t make the rules)  😤 This installment is fluffy af, but I have some ideas for a smutty follow-up if there is any interest. 

Also, a HUGE thank you to @delusionsxfgrandeur for both proofreading this and giving me the confidence to post it in the first place 💕

It had been months, but the 212th had finally returned to Coruscant after a particularly grueling campaign. The men, having received a week of well-earned shore leave, had barely gotten their feet on the ground before making a beeline to 79’s. Which is where you now sat, drunk off your ass amidst a sea of white and orange. 

You were an information officer attached to the 212th and had quickly befriended many of its members, a feat you accomplished just by treating them with the most basic level of respect and consideration. All it took was you remembering their names and sneaking them in a few treats before they were all following you around like a pack of lost puppies. It made you very protective over them, they all were such good, soft boys who deserved the world. Especially Wooley, the clone currently sitting next to you in the booth you had all squeezed into. 

He was younger then some of the other troopers like Waxer and Boil, still too shiny to have earned his colors yet. He was soft-spoken and somewhat shy, which only endeared him to you more. And he also had the softest, fluffiest looking hair you had ever seen, which he wore in an undercut that just accentuated the look for maximum poof. 

The only thought in your head right now was how much you wanted to run your hair through it. I bet it feels like a cloud, you thought drunkenly as you stared at him unabashedly, no doubt grinning like an idiot. You had your chin resting in your hand and started to loll your head back and forth, basking in the pleasant buzz of the alcohol coursing through your system. Evidently, it had started to affect your fine motor skills since your chin slipped from your palm and you bumped your nose hard against the rim of your glass. 

“Ow,” you winced as you rubbed your face, shooting a dirty look at Waxer as he snickered at you from across the table, drawing the attention of others. 

“Had enough?” Cody asked, cocking up his eyebrow at you with a smile, an expression he had no doubt picked up from General Kenobi. 

“Mmmh, I think this’ll be my last drink,” you replied, motioning to the half finished drink in front of you. You had reached the perfect level of drunkenness, just enough to leave you feeling carefree and happy without becoming too messy. The last thing you wanted was for one of the boys to have to drag your drunk ass back to your room, especially on their first night of leave. 

Wooley caught your eyes as you settled back down, and you shot him a broad smile that made his heart beat faster. He could feel his cheeks heat up slightly and he smiled timidly back at you before you turned back to Cody, the two of you falling into a playful back and forth. 

Wooley’s eyes fell to his hands, looking sheepish, and Boil chose that moment to kick him under the table. Wooley made an indignant noise at his vod’s antics, and was about to protest when Boil started darting his eyes at you repeatedly and mouthed ‘Talk to her’. 

His brothers could read the hesitation on his face because Waxer swooped in and said lowly, “She’s been staring at you all night, vod. She likes you!”

Both Waxer and Boil knew of his giant crush on you, and had launched a campaign to get the two of you together, much to Wooley’s embarrassment. The two of them were not subtle and the last thing he wanted was the two of them making a scene in front of you. He took a long drink of whatever alcohol was in front of him, hoping to quell his nervousness. 

With Wooley’s attention momentarily elsewhere, he missed the moment when Boil caught Cody’s eye and gave him a small nod. The Commander was also privy to their plans and masterfully steered the two of you’s conversation to Wooley’s recent accomplishments on the battlefield. 

“You should have seen it, he jumped right on top of the spider spider droid and took it out faster than I could blink, isn’t that right Wooley?” 

Wooley froze as you turned to look at him expectantly, barely managing not to choke on his drink. “Uhh, yeah,” was all he managed to come up with in response and he wanted to smack himself. Kriff, why was he so bad at this? 

You rattled off a couple more questions at him, which he answered in similar fashion, though if you were bothered by it you didn’t show it. He nervously ran a hand through his hair as he desperately wracked his brain for something, anything to say. 

Luckily, he was saved when you blurted out, “Can I touch your hair?” Apparently being drunk made you just say anything, huh, you chided yourself, hoping the booth would swallow you up whole. 

You were completely surprised when he stuttered out, “S-sure,” and scooted closer to give you better access. Reaching up and running your fingers through his thick curls, you found that it was in fact softer than a cloud, a thought which made you start to giggle uncontrollably. Your laughter was infectious because soon enough, Wooley was laughing too. 

You kept slowly playing with his hair, your hand sometimes wandering to the sides to feel the short hairs there. A shiver ran through his body at the sensation “That tickles,” he told you, eyes half lidded and words slightly slurred, though you couldn’t be sure if it was from the alcohol or something else.  

Your fingers paused. “Oh, sorry. I can stop if you want.”

You started to pull your hand away but he caught you around the wrist gently. “No!” he said, maybe a little too loudly. He winced slightly and then much more softly he said “I like it,” before placing your hand back on his head. 

You smiled and told him, “C’mere,” pulling him closer so that he could rest his head on your shoulder. “My arm was getting tired. This is much more comfy.” 

“Mmm,” he agreed as he shifted to settle against you. His  cheeks were still pink but he seemed much more relaxed now.

“So it sounds like you’ll be getting to paint your armor orange soon, huh?” 

His eyes brightened at that and your heart clenched at the proud look that washed over his face. “Yeah! I have a few ideas of how I’m gonna paint it, but I haven’t decided on a final design yet.” 

“What are some of them? I’ll help you make up your mind.” 

~~~

By the time you all left the bar it was early in the morning, but the streets of Coruscant were still packed with people, all hoping to enjoy the first day of the weekend. You and the rest of your group weaved through the throngs of people as you made your way back to the barracks. Being short, you had a harder time pushing your way through the people and almost got separated from the group before someone grabbed your wrist and tugged you back into the group. 

You stumbled towards whoever had rescued you, looking up to see it was Wooley. “Don’t wanna lose you,” he said gently and you felt your heart do a backflip. He had no business being this cute! None at all!

He hadn’t released your wrist yet, and maybe it was the alcohol making you braver than normal, but you decided to slip your hand into his. When he realized what you had done, he looked down at your joined hands and smiled up at you before the two of you raced to catch up with the rest of your group. 

When you finally arrived at the barracks, you were about to reluctantly pull your hand away when Cody said, “Wooley, why don’t you walk her back to her room, just to make sure she gets back safely. We don’t want to lose our favorite information officer.” 

“Uh, yes sir!” Wooley said with a salute, though he misjudged the force of his hand somewhat and thwacked himself in the eye instead. He was just thankful he had the alcohol as an excuse for his mistake, instead of the real reason, which was the look in Cody’s eyes that said ‘If you don’t ask her out tonight, you’ll be on latrine duty for a week.’ 

Without further ado, you bid the rest of the boys goodnight and started off towards your room, still hand in hand. Even though it was calloused, his hand was still so warm and nice against yours, and you never ever wanted this to end. You squeezed his hand lightly and your heart soared when you felt him squeeze back. 

The walk to your room was about a thousand hours too short and you quickly found yourself standing in front of the door. 

There was a beat of silence where the two of you just started at each other, both unsure of what to say. Wooley was racking his mind for a way to ask you out on a date, desperately hoping you couldn’t feel how sweaty his palm was. 

You beat him to it, though, and asked, “Do you have any plans for this week?” If you don’t I was thinking we could, um, do something together tomorrow.” Your bravery faltered somewhat halfway through, but it didn’t matter because his eyes lit up and he nodded back vigorously. 

“That sounds great!” 

“Okay! I’ll think of some places we can go and text you in the morning so we can decide.” 

“Great!” 

There was another beat while you had an internal debate with yourself. Did you kiss him? Should you ask or just do it? Should you wait to see if he kissed you?! Little did you know that Wooley was having the exact same debate in his head, only about 100 times more panicked. 

You decided that you had no more bravery left tonight and settled on running your hand up his arm and giving his bicep a little squeeze. “Goodnight! I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you,” was all he could come up with as his brain short circuited. He watched with an awestruck expression as you went into your room, staring at the metal door in a daze for much longer than he’d like to admit. He realized he would look like a creep if he just hovered outside your room all night and quickly made his way back to the barracks with the biggest smile on his face. 

The door to the barracks slid open and he paused as he came face to face with all of his vode, who all turned to look at him as he walked through the door. Even Cody had yet to retire to his personal quarters. 

“Well, how’d it go?” Boil was the first one to break the silence and ask what everyone wanted to know. 

“She asked me out!” Wooley told them, still smiling broadly. 

The room was filled with cheers as all his brothers crowded around to congratulate him, patting him on the back and ruffling his hair affectionately. Despite all the attention, Wooley couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed. 

~~~

“Try the other jacket,” Boil said from his perch on the top bunk. 

Wooley shucked off the jacket he was wearing and quickly slipped his arms through the jacket Cody held out to him. “How do I look?” 

“Hmm, let me see the first one again.” Boil’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he contemplated Wooley’s current outfit. They had been at this for the last twenty minutes, trying to figure out the best outfit for his date, which was happening in less than an hour. 

“There are only two jacket options! And you’ve worn both of them multiple times, Boil!” Wooley moaned. The clones didn’t have much access to civilian clothes and the few they had managed to commandeer - mostly from the Lost and Found in the Coruscant Guards’ office - were shared between the lot of them. There was even a clothes economy of sorts that had developed between the various squads. In fact, the jacket he was currently wearing had been Cody’s prize for beating Rex at a game of Sabacc a few cycles past. 

Wooley sighed before shooting Boil an apologetic look. He didn’t mean to sound unappreciative, after all his brothers had awoken early just to help him prepare, despite the hangovers they were undoubtedly nursing. He was just starting to feel nervousTM again. 

Cody put his hand on Wooley’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re overthinking it, vod. Remember, she asked you out. She wants to spend time with you.” 

“Who asked who out, now?” came a voice from behind them. They spun around to find General Kenobi leaning against the doorway, a steaming cup of caf in one hand.

“Wooley has a date today!” Waxer blurted out, smiling smugly as his younger brother shot him a look before turning back to address the general. 

“They are, uh,  trying to help me pick out an outfit to wear.” 

“We can’t decide on a jacket, though,” Cody chimed in, holding the other option up for Obi-Wan to see. “What do you think, sir?” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered back and forth, rubbing at his beard absentmindedly as he considered. “Actually, I have something in my quarters that’ll go well with the whole look. You can borrow it if you want, Wooley.” 

“Oh no, sir, I couldn’t poss-” Wooley started, but the general ignored his protests, already starting to drag him towards his room. 

Wooley stood ramrod straight in the middle of General Kenobi’s bedroom as the jedi rummaged around in his closet to search for the jacket in question. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act in this scenario, they had never covered it in training. Though he had learned that there were many things involving General Kenobi that he had been totally unprepared for. 

“I know it’s in here somewhere.” Obi-Wan’s voice was muffled from behind the wall of clothing. “Ah, here it is!” He exclaimed before making his way back to Wooley. He blinked owlishly at the poor trooper in front of him, who looked so stressed out he was beginning to wonder if he’d need to call a medic. 

“Is this your first time going on a date?” He asked gently as he helped Wooley into the jacket, spinning him around to fuss with the collar a bit. 

“Is it that obvious?” Wooley asked with a shy smile. 

“Everyone is nervous on their first date, don’t worry. I remember the first time I went out with someone. My hands were shaking so much I ended up accidentally spilling water all over them. Trust me, it gets easier,” he finished with a warm laugh. 

Wooley was included to believe him. General Kenobi seemed to have a lot of experience in the romance department. Or at least it seemed that way, what with all the people who fawned over him. Maybe he would have some good advice for the question that had been plaguing his every thought since last night. 

“Um, general, if I could ask… how do you go about, uh, kissing someone for the first time. I asked some of the others for tips and they all had different ideas, which just made everything more confusing.” 

“Honestly, my best advice is to just ask them if you can kiss them. Many people find that really romantic. Wait for a moment that feels right, like a lull in the conversation when you two are close together. But most importantly, don’t stress yourself out about it. If it happens it happens, and if not just wait for another chance,” Obi-Wan patted Wooley on the head affectionately. “Now you should probably get going, you’re meeting them in twenty minutes.” 

“How do you know-” He didn’t even get the question out.

“Cody.” Obi-Wan’s commander had come to him this morning seeking advice to give his little brother. 

“Cody,” Wooley smiled fondly. He’d have to thank his commander later. 

~~~

You were waiting on the sidewalk in front of the barracks, shuffling your feet awkwardly as your planned meetup time drew nearer. The two of you had decided earlier to spend time walking around one of the huge seasonal markets that was in town for a few days. You hadn’t gone on many dates before now and this morning had been a whole debacle, your roommate helping you pick out the perfect outfit for the occasion. You had eventually settled on something casual but still cute, and sighed with relief when you saw that Wooley had a similar idea. You were starting to worry that maybe you had gone too casual. 

All of your nerves melted away once you saw him, looking like an absolute snack in that leather jacket. You decided to tell him as much as you offered him your hand. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you out of your armor. You look handsome. Love the jacket.” 

Thank the Maker for Obi-Wan, Wooley thought as he took your hand and squeezed it fondly. “You look really great too!” He told you as the two of you made your way to the taxi stand, both pointedly ignoring the eyes of Wooley’s brothers trying and failing to be discrete as they started at you through one of the windows. 

You two made your way downtown to the market, which was a place where people from every corner of the galaxy would come to sell their wares. It seemed to span multiple city blocks and was absolutely packed with people. The two of you flitted from one booth to the next, marvelling at the exotic wares in each one. As you shopped, you both ended up finding little trinkets and buying them for each other as a way to remember the day. 

Before you knew it it was lunchtime and stopped to grab some food from one of the many vendors. The two of you found a place to eat nearby a troupe of street performers, snuggling up to each other as you ate and watched the show. When you got up, Wooley kept his arm around your waist and you were so happy that you were pretty sure you could leap twenty feet in the air like you had seen some of the Jedi do. 

You passed by a stand selling cotton candy and could’t pass up the opportunity to see Wooley’s face when he tried it for the first time. You ripped off a big piece and held it out for him to try. 

“It dissolved!” He said excitedly and you were pretty sure there were actual stars in his eyes. 

As you and Wooley split the cotton candy, he thought back to what Obi-Wan told him and wondered if this was one of the moments he was talking about. You two were so close to each other and your lips were glistening pink with sugar and, Maker, he wanted to kiss you so badly right now. 

He had just opened his mouth to ask you when a nearby animal bleated loudly. Your head whipped in the direction of the noise and from between people’s legs you spotted a small white animal that looked so incredibly fluffy. 

“Oh stars,” you whispered, “It’s so cute. C’mon Wooley let’s get a better look!” 

Without waiting for an answer, you started to tug him in the direction of the ball of fluff masquerading as an animal. He was briefly disappointed at the missed opportunity but was quickly distracted by the adorable animal in front of him. It was some sort of sheep-looking thing, only neither of you had seen one so fluffy. It’s fur was so thick that you could barely make out its face, making it look like a cotton ball with four nubby legs sticking out of the bottom. 

Your head darted around looking for the owner because you had to pet it NOW. Your eyes landed on an elderly Ugnaught woman settled in a rocking chair. She was working on a knitting project, her knitting needles moving a mile a minute, and the displays around her were filled with bundles of plush looking yarn. 

You waved your hand to get her attention. “Hi! Is this your sheep? Can we pet it?” 

The old woman pushed the pair of thick, round glasses she wore higher up her nose as she spoke. “Of course, dearie. I have some food here if you’d like to feed her. Just cup your hands out like this and she’ll come right over.”

The woman poured some pellets into your outstretched hands and you quickly knelt down to offer it to the sheep. It let out another little bleat as it approached before promptly gobbling up everything with fervor. You giggled at her antics, her soft little tongue tickling your palms. 

“Baaaaaa,” she whined up at you once she had finished, and the old lady scolded the little animal for acting like she was starving when she had just eaten an hour ago. 

You turned to Wooley, who had been watching your interaction from off to the side. “Do you want to try feeding her too?” 

“I-I’ve never fed an animal before…” He said hesitantly. 

“Don’t worry, it’s easy. I can help you if you want.” When he nodded you told him to cup his hands and the woman poured some more food for him to give the sheep. You had him kneel down next to you and helped him hold his palm out, cupping your hand under his. When you felt him trembling slightly, you ran your thumb soothingly across his wrist. He turned to look at you and, oh maker he was so close, you could just lean in an inch and kiss him. But no, you couldn’t get distracted right now, you had a hungry little sheep to feed. 

You both turned back to the matter at hand and Wooley made a little noise in the back of his throat when the sheep came up to him, but he kept his hand out and the little animal started inhaling the food. “Ahh, it tickles!” Wooley gasped, a huge smile on his face. 

Once you were done giving her treats, the three of you settled down on the floor of the little tent, the sheep moving between your laps as you took turns cuddling it. You both ended up taking pictures of each other with the sheep and the old woman even offered to take a picture of both of you with the sheep. You sat there for a while, chatting with the old lady, who had lived quite the life and had many interesting stories as a result. The conversation trailed off and you sat with your head on Wooley’s shoulder, the only sounds around you were the din of the market and the clacking of the woman’s knitting needles. 

You peaked up at Wooley only to find him staring down at you. There was a beat before he suddenly asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

He was about to start berating himself internally for asking so awkwardly, but all his thoughts stopped when you breathed out a soft, “Please.” And then you were cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against his, and nothing mattered anymore. You let out a contented sigh against his mouth and he moved his hand to rest on your hip. 

You were both reluctant to separate, but a tug at your hair made you gasp and pull away, only to find the sheep chewing on a lock of your hair. Behind you, you heard a chuckle and you both turned to see the old woman looking at you both with a knowing twinkle in her eye. Both of your faces heated up as you realized you had just started kissing right in the middle of her store. The two of you started to apologize but she brushed it off with another laugh. 

“You know, there is a tree in a park a few blocks from here. They call it the Lover’s Tree. My husband and I used to sneak off there for a bit of privacy,” she told you with a wink. 

You thanked the woman profusely and even ended up buying some yarn as a thank you. Before you left, you both gave the sheep one more pat on the head before taking off and running towards the tree hand in hand.

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow. 

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

 The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it. 

 And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee. 

 But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies. 

 Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

 “You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

 The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words. 

 “Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

 Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

 (Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones. 

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

 From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed. 

 “No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.” 

 The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still  very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough. 

 There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk.  Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

 "Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

 Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

 “You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

 “I’m sure. Thank you.”

 “Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

 Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

 “Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further. 

 “You want us to sleep together?”

 "No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode. 

 "How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away. 

 "I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

 "And it won't - make things weird?" 

 "Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

 Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

 "Take your time. I'll be here."

 Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

 Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

 Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell. 

 But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship. 

 After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

 So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her. 

 ...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

 “You’re staring.”

 Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat. 

 It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have. 

 It was.

 Gideon was so screwed.

 “Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

 The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.” 

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know. 

 “I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.  

 Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

 The roguish wink apparently had not worked. 

 “No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

 A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened. 

 “Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

 She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

 “Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

 “I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight. 

 She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

 “It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it. 

 Another one of those fucked up things they had in common. 

 An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall. 

 “I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

 “Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

 “As deep as is comfortable.”

 “That’s what she said.”

 “It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

 Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

 A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

 “I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.” 

  Because I think you might already have it. 

 No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in. 

 “I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.” 

 She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

 Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

 The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you? 

 Was I not enough for you?

 A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred. 

 “Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

 “Why did you, then?”

 A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

 “Because I loved you.”

 The words hung heavy in the frozen air. 

 “You - what?”

 “I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

 Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

 Mmf.

 And: Darling?

 And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

 She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away. 

 “I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more  - “

 “Who said anything about stealing?”

 For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

 “What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

 “You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

 With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

 Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

 "Yeah? Cool."

 "Cool."

 Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

 "Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

 "We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

 "Yes. On one condition."

 "Anything."

 "This might be difficult for you."

 "Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

 "No sex jokes."

 She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

 It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

 Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo. 

 The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

 (When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

[karimac]

...in the details, Part 2

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 2,249

Before you ventured into Westview, a flight of birds overhead reminded you of Redwing and Sam. Poor Sam. That sixth sense you had told you that fight at the compound was going to lead you all into very weird places. And the first one left you very squarely not in the room once again.

This time it was Steve and Bucky being thick as thieves, and you and Sam were…making a sandwich run? Couldn’t exactly get GrubHub to make a delivery to an attack site, could you? Bruce did not want some driver with a cellphone putting video up on Snapchat. “How would that look?” he bemoaned as he worked on the time travel platform. “We’d be getting tourists left and right. I don’t need that.” So off you and Sam went.

“You know, you could just, you know,” Sam started to say as he waved his hands like he thought a wizard would do, “and just poof up a plate of stuff. Right? With extra food for Banner, of course. He inhales tacos like nobody’s business. Just ask Tic Tac.”

“Sam, what have I told all of you before? Magic is the transfer of energy and matter. No suitable food stuff means no sandwiches. I can’t just think about the deli counter at Wegman’s and make a sandwich and a side of coleslaw appear in my hand. So, we’ll order on the app and pick it up. Just like everyone else. Before I hit the button, any changes to your order?”

“No, it’s fine. But don’t tell me you’ve never done shit like that when you’ve had your back against it,” Falcon huffed as you went to the rental car you’d gotten earlier in the day. That, thank Heaven, was easy to get at the local but extremely small airport.

“I’ve killed small rodents and eaten them, and I don’t mean just rabbits. Snakes, too. And, well, birds of prey, like falcons,” you groaned as you started to get into the car, but you stopped and headed back to the passenger side. “And I know you hate my driving, so here you go,” you said as you handed Sam the keys. “Sorry it isn’t a Ferrari. I was lucky to get this Kia. They didn’t exactly have anything race course worthy.”

As Sam climbed in, he saw bags of gear in the back seat. “You pulling a Wanda? Need some me time away from all us testosterone jockeys? Cyborg is going to be pissed.”

“Bucky has other stuff to deal with, trust me,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “He does not need to add Crazy Old Broad to his growing list of things to do and people to take care of this week. I heard him talking to Steve…”

“You? Eavesdropping? You are human!” Sam smirked, but then he saw the comment had hit a nerve. “You know I was kidding, right?”

“I know you are,” you said as you swallowed hard. In reality, you were not exactly buying that last comment. Sam was a sweetheart, but his comment sounded like things Tony and Steve had said about you in the weeks before the Time Heist. It depended on the situation, but one or the other of them seemed to question you, your motives, your powers and what they could do, and, at times, your grasp on reality. You did have a connection to a goddess they couldn’t see. Blaming them for having those questions just was not in your wheelhouse. “And yeah, maybe I just need to go figure a few things out. You guys know how to get me back here if you need me.”

“Somehow I don’t think Steve, Bucky and I would look so great standing and screaming your name in the middle of a fight,” Sam noted as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Now who is having issues with gender roles?” you said with a very pronounced side glance. “Sam, we are all human. We all need a save now and then. Maybe you’ll never have to utter my name again after today, unless you guys can’t find something you think I hid? Thor will be back once he’s done exploring the universe, and you can always get him here fast if you have Strange find him. And Wong is just dying for his shot as a full time Avenger. We all know that! And I can go back and do, well, goddess stuff, I guess. And raise horses. Just, please, make sure no one drops the ball on Parker. He lost his parents and his uncle. Losing Tony will hit him harder than anyone likely expects. He’s a good kid. He just needs support and guidance. Now, want to get this thing moving, or do you want me to drive?”

“And have you antagonize the local cops by going Mach 1? No thank you!”

You had to laugh at that one. You did tend to floor it. A lot.

++++++++++

A short time later, you and Sam rolled back to the site Bruce had chosen to set up the time travel platform. After you two handed out all the food, you realized it was really time for you to get going. No, you didn’t have a train, plane or bus to catch or someone to meet. You just knew it was going to get harder to make the break the longer you stayed there.

“She’s pulling a Wanda on us,” Sam said as he finished off the last of the sweet tea he had grabbed at the deli where you’d gotten food. “I think it’s too much he-man macho stuff, but she won’t fess up to that.”

“Wilson, how many brothers did I have?” you asked as you cleaned up the trash from the table Bruce had borrowed from a local park that had been wrecked during the battle. It had a huge hole in the end, but hey, it was good enough for the moment.

“Eight,” Bucky replied before Sam got the chance. “Just don’t quiz me on all their names. I remember your twin, Branan, and the one who was the vampire. Ewan? Right?”

“Yup, that’s right,” you grinned at Buck. “And no quiz. Promise,” you said as you raised your left hand and crossed your heart with your right.

“Why are you leaving?” Bruce asked as he adjusted the sling on his still injured arm, putting extra emphasis on the word “are” as he uttered it. “We need all the help we can get.”

Bruce, heaven help him, was suddenly one of the last active OG Avengers standing on Earth. Thor was off finding himself with the Guardians, and no one could really begrudge him that. He needed time to heal, and you knew all too well that was not easy nor time limited. Clint had more or less retired again after Natasha’s sacrifice on Vormir. Steve was getting ready to take the stones back, but upon his return, he’d likely join up with Sam and Bucky again to root out any remaining Hydra cells. That left Bruce in a very different place this time around.

“Bruce, you don’t really need me being a head case. Trust me. You do not need me giving any news outlets ammunition to blast headlines that make the team look less than spotless. I need to go home, at least for a little while,” you replied, knowing full well you were not telling him or the others everything. “And as I reminded Sam, you guys can just call me, and I’ll be here. Just whisper my name. Or yell it. Whatever works. Text me! If it’s an emergency, and if I’m not in the middle of some new damned war on my end, I’ll come running. But I have a feeling you guys are going to be just fine. Hell, I’ll give you a blessing before I head out.”

Yeah. A blessing. More like the final nail in the coffin. The words to start the spell to make them forget you.

“Big guy, you first,” you said as you put your hands on Bruce’s injured right arm. “And no, I am doing this, Bruce. It won’t be a full healing, but it should speed things up. You got this, big guy. Biggest brain. Biggest heart. May you realize just how much this team was built with your sweat and tears as it was anyone else’s.”

“I can’t change your mind?” Bruce asked as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye and pout a bit. “And I am not asking because you are likely the only one of us who can cook…”

“I’m pretty sure all of you guys can cook something. Maybe not a good Colcannon or a fine Dublin coddle, but you’ll survive. As for the cupcakes, you guys may need to get a bakery on speed dial,” you added with a laugh because you knew they’d make that bakery rich. The Avengers loved their sugary snacks.

“Just don’t bug my sister, Bruce,” Sam noted as he waited for you to come over to him. “I still remember asking why the Cupcake Lady had a sword that night when those demon things attacked near the tower. I never asked. Why the cupcakes?”

“And not why the demons or the sword?” you said as you nearly choked on your words. “You realize that was before Steve saw me at Peggy’s funeral. That night was truly a fluke, Sam. No one was supposed to see that side of me then. As for the cupcakes, they were my entry to your world. Gifts from a fan girl. They’re easy to carry, a synch to personalize when needed, and everyone can have their own without fighting,” you said with a grin as Sam shook his head. “What?”

“You sound like Sarah.”

“Then I am in good company. Tell her the good stuff you’ve told me all these years. The words of wisdom. The little jokes. The pep talks. Tell her often. A single mom with two boys needs that. Be there for her, and drag these guys to see her, too. It would do the boys a world of good to have all their uncles stop by. Now, Samuel,” you said as you gave him a hug, “remember to keep these guys flying right. And if the world drops opportunity in your lap, whatever it might be, do not look at it and push it away without a lot of thought. The world needs Sam Wilson, the hero with a heart.”

And now the hardest part of this good bye had you wiping tears from your eyes. “I know. I’m a big mush. Girls from Brooklyn would laugh at me for this, right? Sorry, but girls from Naas and Athy do cry sometimes. I’m going to miss you two lugs. A lot.”

“Lugs. Last time you called us that was in ’43,” Bucky said as he looked down at his feet for a minute. “Somehow Hydra missed that memory.”

“You’ll see us again,” Steve said as he turned briefly to see where the case with the stones was on the platform. “But this time, it better not take 70 years.”

As you looked at the best friends, something about their auras seemed off. They had been planning something when you almost walked in on their chat a few days ago. You had no idea what it was, and you suddenly didn’t want to hang around to find out what the next act was going to bring.

“Just…watch your back, Steve. From what Clint said about Vormir, that one is going to be tough. And Buck, whatever comes next, I’m rooting for you. Even if you can’t see me doing it.”

“You really don’t have to leave,” Bruce kept insisting as you hefted your backpack on your shoulder.

“Dr. Banner, do you really want to fight my demons after all this? I have enemies. You just haven’t seen them yet. Frankly, the only reason that Hydra didn’t grab me before I hooked up with the Howling Commandos was because I was pulled into another dimension by one of those enemies. It was only by some weird twist of fate that Peggy found me when she did. If the veil between worlds had not been so thin near that camp, I might never have made it back, or Hydra might have found me first. It was pure dumb luck.”

{{And, Heaven help me, part of it was these two lugs over here}} you thought as you turned to head to your car. Then you stopped. This was a lot harder than it had been any time before, but it was the curse of an immortal to have to keep moving on. “I wish you luck, joy and happiness. I wish you peace. And, if you are truly lucky, memories long enough to have little space to spare for the likes of me because they are filled with so much more! See you in my dreams, for now anyway, fellas.”

++++++++++

You rolled out of there before Steve started his mission to return the stones, and you got a text from Bruce hours later telling you everything that had happened. Steve not coming back as planned. Then an older version of Steve shows up, sitting on a bench near the platform, and he gives Sam the shield. Right in front of Bucky.

It was now weeks later. No. It was months later, and here you were staring up at the sign for Westview. You’d gotten out of your rental car so you could get a feeling for the area around this little town.

“You made it back,” a voice said behind you. “How are you, after all that mess with Wanda and that Agatha woman? She was a real piece of work.”

The person speaking to you was Dr. Darcy Lewis. Friend of Thor and Dr. Jane Foster. Why was she even here?

You couldn’t fully figure out what the hell she was talking about. You didn’t remember being here before. Yet, you knew who she was, and you had never met her before. Or at least you couldn’t remember meeting her, here or anywhere else.

“Apparently not as great as I thought I was,” you muttered as you winced again. “Dr. Lewis, how long ago was the blip?”

“Give or take a week, about six months ago,” she replied as you started to pace. “Why?”

“Shit. Not this again,” you hissed as you looked up at the sign once more. “I think I’m going to need your help. How much do you know about Celtic myths and Irish history, Dr. Lewis?”

[korgidorgi]

OUAT Regina Mills x Reader

Word count: 1637

Warnings: Like, one curse word

Summary: Takes place around S3 Ep13. Reader just arrived back in Storybrooke the previous day. They are chilling in Granny’s Diner, looking through some writings when Regina joins them. They have a chat about something strange that reader (you) had experienced in the past year. It had happened before, but when they were a kid, and it felt so real.

Gender is not specified.

Sitting in Granny’s Diner, you take a sip of your drink while flipping through the pages of two notebooks. One notebook has pages upon pages of storyline and sketches of characters. The other notebook contains notes about the first one, and this little town called Storybrooke, mostly about the people you’ve met in your short amount of time of being in this town since you arrived yesterday. Apparently, Emma, your childhood friend, is in the town too, and her son, Henry, who you haven’t seen in a year.

Emma had invited you for dinner with her, Henry, and a few friends last night, which you politely declined, but ended up going anyway. That’s where you met Mary Margaret and David. You’ve previously met Regina staring at your vehicle when you stopped in one of the stores yesterday when you first arrived; she was at the dinner too. Everyone was very nice, but something was bothering you, you didn’t know what it was at the time, but you’ve figured it out now, you think.

There’s something awfully familiar about the town and it’s people. Flipping through your journals, you finally connect the dots. Sitting in the booth behind you-

“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you?” A tentative voice brings you back to earth.

You look up, finding the dark haired woman from last night, and the same one you asked Mary Margaret about earlier this morning when you went to pick something up from her apartment that you’d left the previous night.

“No, not at all. Here-” you scramble your notes together to clear the table at least a bit from your spiraling ideas.

Regina takes a seat across from you as you try to organize your belongings, a little embarrassed about the mess.

“Sorry it's such a mess.” You apologize, throwing the loose papers and notes into your bag.

“It’s quite alright.” She responds, flashing you a small smile. “What are you writing?”

“Oh, I uh, I’ve been writing a story. Inspired from my dreams.” You nervously answer, not knowing where to look. “It sounds weird, right?”

“No, not at all.” She reassures, hesitantly placing a hand on top of yours briefly. “May I ask what your dreams are inspiring?”

“I’ve actually been writing in these journals for years, since I was a kid. I’ve always had really vivid dreams, and it was like they’d go in order, like episodes for a tv show.” You begin. “I got so into them, I started writing them down, and sometimes I’d draw some of the people as best I could from memory, but I was a kid, so they didn’t turn out very great. I’m currently looking back into it because I’ve had them again this past year, but they’ve suddenly stopped now. At least my sketches are better.” You chuckle.

“Well, they say follow your dreams.” She smiles over at you, pulling some hair from in front of her eyes. “What were they about?”

“I’m a pirate, I think, and during this past year I met a supposed “Evil Queen”, who I had met in my childhood dreams before.” You begin. “The first major scene I had was following her into a castle and trying to talk some sense into her before she tried to put a sleeping curse on herself. She told me she really missed her son, that there’s no reason for her to continue with her life. I felt bad for her and she poofed me away with some magic and I couldn’t find her again.” You tell her one of the major scenes in your dream, flipping through the pages of the first notebook you used at the re-beginning of the dreams and stopping on a certain page.

Flipping the notebook around for her to see, you let her take in the pencil sketch in front of her. The graphite etched into the paper depicts a mourning Queen sitting in a stone bench of a large room, her hair tied up and her body adorned by an intricately patterned dress, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders. In her hand, she holds a long needle, the tip coated with some dark substance; a potion or curse of some sort. Her features are soft but full of anguish, her eyes holding the most dejected look one could ever see as she looks down at the needle in her fingers.

You watch Regina take in the drawing for a moment before she finally speaks. “That’s very well drawn. And that’s from memory.” She comments, raising her eyebrows as if she’s impressed.

“Thank you, Regina.” You bashfully accept her compliment. “That’s how vivid these dreams are.” You add. “They feel like I’m actually experiencing them. Like I’m traveling to another world and living it.”

She nods at your statement, eyes fixed on the sketch again.

You speak up again, “Can I tell you something? It’s going to sound crazy, but I need to get this out of my head.”

“Of course.” She returns her gaze to you, awaiting what you have to say.

You think for a moment what you want to say first before finally saying one of your thoughts that’s been bugging you ever since you first saw her. “Have we met before?” You blurt out the question, not able to keep your words in check. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen you somewhere, that I’ve known you from somewhere.”

“I don’t think we have.” Regina answers. “I think I’d remember someone as-” She cuts herself off, pausing for a moment to look for the right words. “Someone as adventurous as you.”

“Oh. Okay.” You look down, “Sorry, that was a weird question.”

“No, not at all, Dear.” Regina reassures you.

You flash her a small smile, catching something out of the corner of your eye. A man passes your booth, not noticing your glance at him and leading Henry out of the Diner, to watch over him, you suspect. Regina notices your look, but before she can say anything, you’re flipping through the pages of your journal, muttering to yourself about “where is it”. Regina watches you as you finally stop on a certain page, completely confused and utterly shocked.

“I’ve seen him before…” You gape at your journal.

A sketch of a pirate’s portrait takes up the upper half of the page, as if drawn for a character profile in a novel with a description underneath the sketch. The man has short but well kept hair, one of his eyebrows raised slightly as if to taunt whomever it is he was interacting with at the time of the sketch. His stubble beard brings out some of his more attractive features and he sports a small black earring, almost covered by his black coat’s collar.

“Somehow, my subconscious knew him, and here he is.” You marvel.

“It might just be a coincidence.” Regina suggests. “Your brain doesn't forget faces, maybe you’ve seen someone like him somewhere and your mind just put him in there.”

“Maybe. But how weird is this?”

“I’ll admit, it is pretty weird.” Regina says. “Hey, I’m gonna go grab a drink from the counter, I’ll be right back.” Regina gets up to make her way to the counter of the Diner.

You flip through your journals, looking at all the characters you had sketched from your dream. You notice Regina saying hi to Emma and continue trying to think through what you had just confessed to Regina. Is it weird you told her something so bizarre even though you’ve only just met her yesterday?

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Mary Margaret’s friend, who was going to help her with the baby, walks into the diner. The aura around the woman wasn’t like anything you’d felt. She looks to be intimidating everyone in the diner, yet Regina doesn’t seem to flinch at the sudden entrance like everyone else. The woman waltzes right up to Regina, vengeful determination written all over her features. You watch as she gets up in Regina's face, trying so hard to intimidate her, but failing. You stand to go join Regina at the counter and try to see if you can get another drink.

“Oh, she never told you?” You hear the strange woman say, as she goes on about her being Regina’s sister.

“Of course she didn’t tell me, otherwise I’d know I have a sister.” Regina snaps back, holding her ground.

You interject before the energy in the room gets even more uncomfortable. “Ok, you’re making kind of a scene and people are staring. So, whatever sibling rivalries you have, can you put them on hold and sort them out somewhere else so you don’t cause a scene?”

“Who do you think you are?” The woman sneers. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” You simply state, before trying to shoo the Karen out. “But if you’re going to bring drama in here and bother everyone in the Diner, Karen, you can leave, please and thank you.”

You guide her out the door and watch her huff as she turns to walk away. “Regina, meet me tonight, we’ll settle our differences then. You all haven’t heard of the last of me!”

You turn back to Regina to find the whole diner looking at you. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Regina approaches you, placing her hands on your upper arms in an attempt to comfort you. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She reassures, looking out the door to watch the woman disappear from view. “Thank you for kicking her out.”

“You’re welcome.” You respond, still slightly nervous. “She was being a bitch to you.” You mutter.

Your response causes Regina to release a small chuckle. “I have a protector now?”

“I guess…” You mumble.

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 10

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: some swearing, i actually think that’s it for this part?

A/N: Okay here’s part 10, or as I’ve been calling it: Part 9 2: Electric Boogaloo. This is a very special edition of Sunset Swerve in which you get to read from Luke’s POV! This is covering the same time frame as part 9 but Luke’s pov provides some different scenes and new insight that’s kinda significant so I would really recommend not skipping it lol. I wanna shoutout @meangirlsx for being my sounding board and giving me loads of help on these two parts! As always, send me a message/drop a comment if you want to be tagged and let me know what you think!

Part 9  Masterlist

___

The week started off great for Luke. He was coming off the high from their performance at the open mic time and the relief that Julie didn’t have to quit the band. The latter fact also absolved him from his guilt of having suggested that Julie sneak out in the first place.

He found himself spending a lot of time with Jordan in the following days between talking about the book he’d started (she had been right, Annabeth was really cool though he maintained that she was stuck-up) and writing music. Their relationship had become much more civil following his birthday, though the fighting didn’t stop. Luke was starting to wonder if Jordan could survive without regularly making snarky or sarcastic comments. Still, the newfound closeness had been… nice. Luke wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize it, especially alongside the feelings he was certain he had for Julie.

As he sat across from Jordan, close enough that their knees were touching as they worked through some rhythms on a new song, Luke found that he wasn’t certain of anything. Jordan felt like a magnet- he realized belatedly that she always had- constantly pulling him closer and closer no matter how much either of them tried to pull away. He was starting to wonder if learning metaphors at book club was really a good thing.

“Hey Luke, can I ask you about something?” Julie pipped up from the entryway of the garage, pulling him away from his thoughts and Jordan.

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow quizzically.

“Oh, um, actually can we talk outside?” She asked and he furrowed his brow but nodded, setting down his guitar and jogging over to where she stood by the doors.

“This is gonna sound weird but can I ask why Jordan was with you at your house the other day?” Julie asked unsurely once they were outside and Luke froze, not expecting the question.

“How’d you…?” He trailed off, peering at the girl suspiciously. He hadn’t told anyone that he made frequent visits to his house, though he suspected the guys knew and Jordan had figured it out on his birthday.

“Alex and Reggie took me…” Julie said, tucking her hair behind her ear embarrassedly. “After I called you selfish and said you didn’t care about anyone but yourself…”

“That’s ironic coming from you, Miss Boundaries,” he scoffed irritatedly, brows furrowed in anger and Julie sighed.

“I’m really sorry Luke, it was wrong.”

“But now you wanna snoop even more,” he frowned, raising his brows as if to say ‘seriously?’

Julie opened her mouth to defend herself but Luke cut her off with a sigh before answering her question.

“If you must know, Jordan and I have spent every birthday together since we were five, I guess she figured I could use the comfort and familiarity.” He shrugged, trying to downplay how much the gesture had meant to him. It’s been really difficult, grieving his loss of his parents while they grieved him even twenty-five years later. At least when he was a runaway there was still always the possibility of reconciliation. Now there never would be.

“That’s really thoughtful,” Julie said, “But it doesn’t make sense. You guys hate each other, what happened?”

“Oh, we always have,” he smirked to himself, remembering that first day they met. He’d found a massive spider in the yard and thought it would be funny to put it in her hair, obviously, she hadn’t felt the same and the rest was history. “But our parents really wanted us to be friends so… birthday parties.”

“That explains a lot, actually,” Julie nodded thoughtfully and now it was Luke’s turn to be confused, tilting his head in a silent request for the girl to explain. “You guys have these moments where you like, exude this closeness that totally doesn’t fit the nature of your relationship. It makes sense now, knowing how long you’ve known each other.”

“I mean, there was a point where we were basically the closest thing to family each other had,” Luke shrugged, thinking about those last five months in the studio. “Guess we forgot about that when we died.”

They’d grow inexplicably close in those months that they’d lived together. It was an unspoken closeness, neither of them dared to acknowledge it but Luke saw it often in the little things. They’d stopped calling each other names when it was just them in the garage and sometimes when he was stuck on a new song he was writing she’d shout out suggestions from across the room. It was like they’d called an unconscious truce in their grief but when they came back as ghosts that all disappeared, the two immediately back at each others’ throats.

When Luke returned to the studio after his conversation with Julie it had sort of felt like the same thing had happened again. He’d thought he was finally making headway with Jordan, that they’d finally started back on the path to friendship after his birthday, or maybe even something more, and while things hadn’t totally changed, they felt different somehow.

She’d stopped hanging out with him in her free time. Instead, she spent the time holed up in the corners of the studio with her notebook or sitting behind the piano or her guitar, playing or strumming as she hummed softly. Luke wanted to help her out or tell her she sounded beautiful but he couldn’t help but notice how secretive she was being. They’d been working on songs together recently but this one she seemed determined to keep to herself.

When he entered the studio one afternoon to find her notebook on the couch, completely unguarded he couldn’t help himself. He blamed his overwhelming curiosity for why he picked it up despite knowing first-hand how sacred a song journal was.

When he found the partially written song at the back of the notebook he sucked in a breath, chest filling with hope at the lyrics on the page. It wasn’t much, only one verse and a chorus and what looked like half a pre-chorus but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was about him.

[Verse ?]

Bored of games why do you still play?

Back and forth, it’s always the same

You’re player one, I’m player two, who is she, player who?

Roll the dice and make your way

Pre-chorus

I know I’m hard but that’s part of it

You could leave but you are still here

and I’ve nowhere to go but ???

His mind whirled as he tried to work it out for himself. It screamed jealousy to him. She’d started writing after he’d had his conversation with Julie, so it wasn’t an unreasonable guess that he was “you” and Julie was “she.” She was jealous of him and Julie. But was it platonic? Was it more than that?

He was pretty sure he’d lost his damn mind in the hurricane of questions racing through his brain. It was the only explanation for the pure stupidity of what he did next.

“Moss, what’s this?” He asked when she found him with her notebook. Then he started to read off the chorus,

“I’m selfish, I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.

I can’t help it, can’t help it

crazy things that I do.”

“Give it back,” she snapped, cheeks flushing in what he later recognized as a mix of embarrassment and anger but at the time his brain ignored entirely, too caught up in an unthought-out attempt to confront her feelings.

“When I need you I come back to you.

I’m selfish, I’m selfish

when it comes to you.”

“I’m serious, Patterson. You don’t see me poking around in your notebook,” Jordan argued, grabbing hold of the notebook but not pulling it out of his hands.

“You don’t see me leaving my notebook lying around.” His body and his mouth were moving on autopilot but without a GPS as he responded cheekily, letting go of the notebook. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his rational brain was screaming at him to shut up but he just kept talking. “Who’s it about?”

“None of your business.”

Though his brain was on a self-destructive warpath, he couldn’t help but notice how adorable Jordan looked hugging the notebook to her chest protectively. Though, the adorableness factor was negated slightly by the death glare in her eyes.

“I think it’s about me,” he announced smugly, leaning back against the couch haughtily as if daring her to contradict him.

What the hell are you doing, man?

“I think you’re a dumbass,” she spat, and just like that she was gone, poofing away.

He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands with a groan as he realized what he did.

For the next day and a half, he could feel how the atmosphere between them had grown frigid. He’d tried to apologize a few times but every time he got close she would poof away, clearly not wanting to hear from him. What interactions they did have in those couple days were short and snide, laced with venom and insults. The behavior didn’t seem out of the ordinary to the rest of the group, but to Luke, it felt like he’d just stepped from the warm beach into ice-cold water and it was all his fault.

Luke was on the brink of losing his mind again when he went out on a limb that night. He, Alex, and Reggie were about to go out exploring like they did most nights after all the lifers went to sleep and he really wasn’t keen on leaving Jordan in the studio to stew in her anger.

“C’mon, Moss, we’re going exploring!” he called up to the loft. Deciding he’d given her enough space, it was time for ambush mode.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” She called back venomously, not even deigning to come to the railing of the loft or poof down to speak to him face-to-face.

He sighed, clenching his eyes shut briefly before exhaling heavily and speaking.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He called back, wishing he wasn’t doing this in front of Reggie and Alex. “I shouldn’t have gone through your notebook, it was a dick move.”

Luke was surprised at how quickly she forgave him, poofing down only moments after he apologized. He stared at her surprise, his body more relaxed now that she was spending time with them again. He hoped Alex and Reggie weren’t watching him, afraid they might somehow see the pure relief and adoration that he felt for her. Maybe he was being dramatic, but he swore he stopped breathing when she finally turned to look at her. He was totally screwed.

___

The next morning was quiet, though it felt like everything had gone back to normal. Jordan was sprawled across the couch which Luke had stopped trying to claim possession over, it was his couch but at this point, it might as well have been hers. Alex was sitting across from him making a friendship bracelet that he secretly hoped was for him but thought might’ve been for Willie, and Luke was reading his book. Things were really starting to pick up in the characters’ quest and he was apparently so invested that he barely recognized Reggie’s arrival until he heard the word “gig.”

Just like that he was on his feet along with Jordan and Alex, quest entirely forgotten as they all started blurting out questions.

“Where?”

“When?’

“How?”

Reggie excitedly explained how they were having a garage party at the house so that their band could perform and Ray and some of his colleagues would record them professionally for the band’s YouTube. Then Reggie patiently explained what a YouTube was and Luke briefly wondered when he’d learned more about modern technology than the rest of them. He supposed Julie did give him that iPod.

“We’re gonna record a music video? Like on MTV?” He exclaimed excitedly after Reggie had explained.

“Yes, dude! And Julie says if we get enough views we could go big!”

Luke gaped at his three bandmates, trying to come up with a vocalization for the thoughts flying through his head. All of a sudden there was a lot at stake for this event, the whole world would be able to see their performance. It had to be perfect. They needed to practice, hell they needed to pick a song.

He needed to talk to Julie.

When he reappeared in the school hallway he realized he probably should’ve told the group where he was going but it was too late now.

“What’re you doing here?” Julie asked him after getting over the initial shock of his sudden appearance.

“We need to talk about what song we’re gonna play tonight,” Luke said excitedly, grinning at the girl. “I was thinking Great?”

Julie held up a finger to signal she needed a moment before pulling out her phone.

“Wait seriously? You’re just gonna take a call while we’re talking? That’s so rude!”

Julie rolled her eyes at his dramatics before explaining, “Otherwise people might think I’m talking to myself.”

“Right, nice, okay,” Luke nodded, impressed by her quick thinking.

It was strange to be back in a high school hallway after so long, chatting with a cute girl by the lockers. The thought immediately brought the image of Jordan. Wow, he was really screwed.

“But yeah, I think Great is a… great choice,” Julie answered his question and he nodded, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, sweet! Well, that was pretty much all I wanted to talk to you about so…”

“Oh! Okay,” Julie said, surprised.

“Actually wait- I wanted to talk to you about Jordan,” He started. He knew he and Julie had something between them but with these rising feelings about Jordan he’d been experiencing he didn’t want to lead her on. “Look, I, uh, I don’t really know how to say this but-“

“You have a crush on Jordan!” Julie gasped, effectively cutting him off.

His cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly.

“Yeah- I mean, I don’t know but…”

“But you don’t want to hurt me,” Julie finished and Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Wow, you are really perceptive Molina,” he said and she smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about me-“

“Sorry, my Patterson Idiocy Meter was going off,” Jordan explained as she suddenly appeared beside him, effectively putting an end to his conversation with Julie. “It lets me know when he’s doing something especially stupid.”

Luke rolled his eyes at the comment, sticking his tongue out petulantly at the girl and Julie gave him a knowing smile.

“Anyway,” Luke said dramatically, rerouting the conversation and turning back to Julie. “I was thinking, you should just ditch school today and come rehearse with us.”

He probably should’ve anticipated both girls’ protests but he still found himself trying to rationalize what he knew was a bad idea.

“Right, you were at school first, and now you’re leaving to go rehearse.”

“Stop trying to persuade her to do bad things!” Jordan chastised him, smacking his shoulder lightly.

“I really can’t. Plus I promised Nick I’d be his dance partner…” Julie explained, and Luke noticed Jordan wiggling her eyebrows at the mention of the name. He was clearly missing something.

“…and he’s heading this way,” Julie finished, pretending to hang up the phone in favor of talking to the blond-haired boy who just walked up.

“Well don’t you look sharp!” Julie’s reaction to his teasing told him all he needed to know about her feelings and the boy was not being sly about his at all. “Uh-oh, I think somebody’s got a crush on Julie!”

He couldn’t help it. It’s the designated role of all close friends to make fun of each other for their crushes. He knew by the way Julie had reacted when he’d told her about his (well, tried to tell her) that she was never going to let him hear the end of it. So, he dove right into it, mimicking Nick’s motions and facial expressions all with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh he is just too cute,” he teased when the blond lifer finally walked away.

“Boundaries,” Julie reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll see you after school.”

She began walking away towards her class but Luke wasn’t ready to end the conversation.

“Fine! I guess we’ll just have to carry you tonight, just like we always do!” He called down the hallway and he could see Julie shake her head slightly in exasperation. “I know you’re smiling, Molina!”

“Shut up, Luke,” Jordan rolled her eyes, smacking his chest lightly and he sent her a cheeky grin. “Good luck Julie! You’ll do great!” She called after the girl and Luke awed internally at the support.

“Yeah! Kill it on the dance floor!” He joined in, shuffling smoothly across the floor as he yelled.

“Dork,” he heard Jordan mutter and he snapped towards her, feigning upset despite how pleased he was at the attention he was getting.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get rehearsing,” he spoke, brushing off the dramatics but she waved him off.

“I’ll be right there.”

He frowned, wanting her to come with him but he poofed away anyway, landing back in the garage between Reggie and Alex.

They immediately got to work, Luke walking them through Great. He felt bad doing it without Jordan since it was really her and Julie’s song more than anything, but he really wanted them to sound as best as they could. It was her song and they needed to do it justice.

They’d only just gotten through the basic structure and Jordan’s plans for the song, which she’d scribbled into the margins of his notebook pages while they worked on it together, when they were interrupted by a face in the window.

“Again? What’s all that about?” Reggie asked when Willie’s face disappeared from view, the boy clearly knowing he’d been caught.

Luke shrugged in response, just as lost as the rest but Alex stood, seemingly determined to get answers this time as he poofed out.

Despite their typical itch to snoop, the two boys gave Willie and Alex their privacy, instead moving over to their respective instruments to tune and warm up while they waited.

Luke could tell something was off when Alex returned but the blond-haired ghost had gone straight for his drumset, insisting that they start rehearsing. So, Luke didn’t push it, until about halfway through the song Alex got a little too into his drums, no longer playing along.

“Alex are you alright?” He asked sincerely once he’d stopped playing.

“Yeah... yeah, why?” Alex asked, trying to brush it off but Luke and Reggie had already connected the dots.

Alex only ever played like that when he was upset and since he was in a good mood before Willie showed up, it wasn’t difficult to figure out.

“I know it’s tough man. People say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie spike sympathetically, “but... I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, thanks Reg,” Alex nodded and Luke stepped forward, clutching his guitar strap as if to brace himself. He wasn’t very good at expressing things outside of music.

“Yeah, and Alex, you’re a great drummer and a great guy, okay?” He said, leaning onto the drumset slightly as he spoke. “I wouldn’t let all that stuff get in between you and what you love.”

Alex nodded and Luke finally noticed Jordan’s presence in the studio. He’d started to take steps in her direction to ask when she’d gotten there when Reggie spoke up again.

“I don’t know, sometimes a little fire onstage can make things better,” he said suggestively and Luke froze in the center of the band setup. “Like you and Julie.”

His head immediately snapped towards Jordan, trying to gauge her reaction to the statement. He was already certain she thought there was something between him and Julie, she’d written a whole song out of jealousy after all, but he needed her to know that wasn’t true.

“Uh, what... what is that supposed to mean?” Luke asked, trying to play innocent and hoping Reggie would get the hint and back off.

“C’mon, everyone can see the way you look at her when you sing,” Reggie chuckled, clearly not understanding. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“Please never say ooze again,” Alex said to Reggie before turning to Luke, “But you have to agree he’s right.”

“No, no.” Luke denied vehemently, chancing another nervous glance at Jordan only to find she had become suddenly very interested in her shoes. “I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.”

It felt like a reasonable excuse to him, and it wasn’t exactly wrong. He did have chemistry when he sang with people, but it wasn’t because of the person, it was because of the music. Still, Reggie and Alex gave him looks of disbelief and he huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, watch,” he said, taking a determined step towards Jordan. Sure he was trying to prove a point to the guys, but maybe he could prove something else to himself and Jordan.

Still, before he could even take another step she stopped him.

“You’d better take that step back,” she demanded, not even looking up from the floor and his heart sank.  

He shook it off with a sigh, still determined to prove his point to the guys. So he turned on his heel, confidently stepping towards Reggie as he began to sing.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be.” When he got close enough, he slipped his hand around the back of the bassist‘s neck, pulling their faces even closer together. “That we’re standing on the edge of… great.”

He winked at the boy when he finished and stepped back, watching with a smirk as Reggie gulped. Mission accomplished.

“Wow,” Alex remarked, “I see chemistry.”

“Yeah, that was pretty hot,” Reggie admitted, voice cracking as he spoke.

Riding on the high of his success, Luke took it one step further, kissing two of his fingers before placing them on Reggie’s lips. When he heard a giggle from behind him he whirled around to grin at Jordan, elated that he could turn her mood around. She rolled her eyes in response but he didn’t care. He was starting to think maybe they were a sign of endearment from her with how much she did it.  

“Girls, amiright?” Reggie croaked out and Luke chuckled.

“Yeah,” he agreed and Alex quickly chimed in.

“No,” the drummer said definitively with a light chuckle.

Jordan barked out a laugh at that, poofing over to the drummer to give him a high five before poofing back to the front of the band setup. Luke shook his head at that, ducking his head to hide his smile as he slipped his guitar strap back across his body.

Practice went smoothly after that, though Jordan and Reggie insisted on messing around until Julie got there. He felt kinda lonely with Jordan now hanging out on Reggie’s side of the setup but it was worth it to see her smile and hear her laughter. He didn’t even have the heart to tell them to take this practice seriously since they had a performance tonight. When the hell did he become so whipped for a girl he wasn’t even sure liked him back?

He couldn’t begrudge them their fun, even screwing around Jordan and Reggie were some of the best musicians he knew and it was obvious when Julie got there. They only had an hour of true, focused rehearsal with the whole group yet it sounded amazing. Still, Luke was nervous. If he’d had his way, they would’ve practice until it was perfect but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

Luke was bummed when Jordan left to get ready in Julie’s room. He figured they needed their “girl time” or whatever but- though he’d never say it out loud- watching Jordan do her makeup had become part of his pre-performance routine and he was a bit fascinated by the whole ordeal. Instead, he spent the time leading up to their performance reading his book or talking with Alex and Reggie.

Luke’s nerves didn’t present themselves outwardly as much as Jordan’s did. It was something he’d noticed back when they’d both started performing. When Jordan got nervous she moved, flicking and shaking her hands, bouncing in place, anything to stop her standing still. Luke, on the other hand, internalized his nerves. He would become uncharacteristically quiet the closer he got. When he first started performing for crowds his hands would tremble, something he’d had to figure out how to counteract pretty quickly because it’s really hard to play the guitar with shaky hands.

Still, pre-performance nerves were when his insecurities popped up the most so when he looked up and saw Jordan, Alex, and Reggie all holding hands in the garage while Julie started the song, he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He probably looked like a kicked puppy but he felt like one. His bandmates had left him out of something.

As if reading his thoughts, Jordan reached her hand out to him in a silent invitation to join whatever pre-show ritual they’d started without his knowledge. As soon as he took her hand he understood why they did it: silent solidarity. A small but strong reminder that they were in this together. Then Jordan squeezed his hand lightly, giving him just enough time to squeeze back before they were poofing onstage, well, onto the driveway.

Julie and Jordan were electric in center stage and all five of them were sounding great (no pun intended). Everything was going perfectly until Luke nodded his head at Jordan, silently asking her to come share his mic but she pointedly ignored him. Luke furrowed his brow in confusion as she angled her body away from him as she picked up the next verse.

Maybe it was a mistake, he thought, trying it again as he and Julie joined her vocals.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way,” they sang together, and Luke frowned slightly. Those lines had always made him think of Jordan, especially after his birthday and it hurt extra that she was ignoring him.

He tried to ignore the stab of jealousy he felt when she moved to the other side of the setup to sing to Alex by focusing on the music and singing with Reggie but it didn’t fully work. He still wanted her attention and he wanted to know why he wasn’t getting it.

His wounded puppy eyes were fully intact when he stepped up beside where Julie crouched on the piano to play his guitar solo. She gave him a sympathetic smile before shrugging lightly, seemingly understanding why he was upset but also unaware as to why he was being shunned. It made him feel a bit better, at least he wasn’t the only one in the dark. As the section came to an end he noticed her eyes flicking out to the crowd and followed them, spotting a familiar blond. He sent her a teasing wink as he hit the last note and she stood fully on the piano in what was a truly epic moment. That girl was a performer through and through.

He slid back to his microphone behind the piano, still hurt but pushing it aside to finish out the performance. Now really wasn’t the time to get lost in speculation and self-pity.

He was surprised when he and the guys returned to invisibility only to see Jordan still out there, singing and playing along with Julie. It was clearly a beautiful and emotional moment for the two and he wondered when they’d planned it. Still, that wasn’t his first question when he finally got time to talk to the ghost girl.

“Hey, so, how come you were ignoring me out there?” He asked her after the lifers had evacuated the driveway.

Reggie and Alex were playing some basketball on the hoop hanging from the garage door while Jordan was perched on the ledge at the end of the driveway, scribbling into her notebook.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, looking up to stare at him in confusion.

“During the performance… I wanted you to come sing with me…” he spoke, leaving pauses in hopes that she’d catch on and put him out of his misery but she never did. “C’mon Moss, I did the head nod and everything!”

“Those were for me?” She exclaimed, looking at him like he’d lost his mind, “I thought you were trying to get Julie!”

He felt the relief wash over him with those words. So it was just a simple misunderstanding.

The relief was short-lived, however, as the four of them were suddenly struck through with another jolt, sending the three guys sprawling to the ground and Jordan doubling over.

“Jesus fuck,” he heard Jordan curse as she clutched her chest and he groaned in agreement, pushing himself off the cement.

“That wasn’t like the other ones,” he said, “It’s getting worse.”

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, still bent over as he recovered.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble,” Willie answered, nervously approaching the four ghosts. “We need to talk.”

They all nodded in agreement, silently moving together before Willie poofed them to Hollywood.

They followed him along the Walk of Fame as he explained all about how Caleb’s stamp was the reason the jolts kept happening. That he’d stamped them to force them to work for him because they were too powerful.

“So, if we don’t join his club, the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, crossing his arms over his chest nervously.

“Yes,” Willie answered, not meeting any of their eyes.

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?”

“That’s… that’s it. You’re done.”

Luke heard Jordan suck in a breath beside him, freezing in her tracks and the rest of the group slowed to a halt.

“Yeah, what do you mean by ‘we’re done?’” Reggie asked the question none of them wanted to hear the answer to.

“You just… you don’t exist… anymore. Not anywhere.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jordan slap a hand over her mouth as if to cover up a sob. He knew she was thinking about her parents, how she’d never see them again because of this and his blood began to boil.

“So what, we have to give up everything and work for Caleb for eternity?” He spat angrily, “That’s some club you guys got going on.”

He took a step back, reaching down discretely to grab Jordan’s hand, hoping to provide her with any kind of comfort and support.

“But there is another way,” Willie explained, “That’s why I’m here.”

“Another option?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Just please, hear me out.” Willie pleaded, and Luke shared a look with the other guys. “Alright. If you guys could figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked, squeezing Jordan’s hand reassuringly. He’d figure it out just for her.

“I don’t know,” Willie said. “But since you all died at the same time it could be something you all have to do together.”

Luke’s mind began whirling, trying to figure out what it could be. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely registered Willie departing, or Alex and Reggie talking.

“We have to figure out our unfinished business,” he insisted, finally joining in on the conversation.

“Yeah, man, and how are we supposed to do that? Alright?” Alex asked frustratedly. “There was so much we wanted to do.”

The combination of Alex’s words and him noticing the sign in the background brought upon Luke’s epiphany.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was only one thing we wanted to do together,” he explained, pointing towards the Orpheum sign with his free hand.

Part 11

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JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

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[ironkissedmage]

Sub Count

Whoops I had a small idea and once again it got a little out of hand. I tend to write more than I think I will so here’s a little treat I guess! Not sure if it’s long enough to put on ao3, so I’ll let you guys have it first.

Word Count: 2,279

Title: Sub Count

Premise: Dean and Cas have a little bit of a different life after beating Chuck. Cas has started a surprising new job and today he needs Dean’s help. 

---------

“Dean, can you help me set something up?” 

Dean looked up from where he was seated at the kitchen table, a half-empty beer slowly warming in his hands. Castiel was standing in the doorway in one of Dean’s old shirts. They really needed to go shopping for him now that he was human again, but Dean was more than a little happy seeing him in his clothes, so that could wait. Since rescuing Cas from the Empty, he has had to readjust to a life where he needs things. Dean makes sure he eats and doesn’t spend all day in bed. (That one could be a struggle sometimes; he has never seen anyone more reluctant to get out of bed than a newly human Cas.) 

They have all had things to adjust to though. Sam was now the head honcho that all the other hunters called upon for help. He organized hunts and kept the bunker stocked up with rooms ready to go. To say Dean was proud would be an understatement.

Even Dean had done some adjusting after they beat Chuck and got Cas back. He helped Sam out with a few more hunts, killing the occasional vamp or stopping a witch here or there. But by now, Dean realized that he was just plain tired of hunting. He had given so much of himself and his life to it, that what he really longed for was a normal, everyday kind of job. 

So that’s how they ended up here. Sam was always busy, either at the other end of the bunker or out teaming up with others to help out. Dean spent most days at his new job in the nearest town, fixing up cars. And Cas… well Cas found a new job of his own. 

“I need to fix the lighting, Dean. It isn’t right for what I have planned.” Castiel deadpanned, not-so-patiently waiting for Dean to get up from his seat. 

Dean released an amused sigh and pulled himself up out of his chair and followed Cas towards his room. They walked together, Cas being unusually silent.

“So, uh, what is it you’ve got planned that you need me to change the lighting for, Cas?” Dean scratched at the back of his head and turned his eyes away from his best friend. He was reminded of the confession Cas made to him not that long ago. The one Dean never officially responded to. His throat ran dry at the thought and he tried to push it back to the safe little spot it was usually stored away in his mind. He knew how he felt about that and he was sure Cas knew too. He didn’t have to say it. Not yet. Not really.

Instead of answering, Cas just swung his door open to reveal his current setup. Dean had been able to find him an old office chair by the side of the road one day at the start of Cas’s new hobby. Sam had gifted him one of his old laptops then as well. Since then, Cas has managed to upgrade a few things and obtain a decent microphone and camera. Dean never would have pegged Cas as a streamer, but apparently some people liked watching a man with rusty social skills play silly farm games. Dean thought it was endearing. 

What he wasn’t sure was so endearing was the piece of clothing laid on on Cas’s bed.

“Uh, Cas, what’s that?” Dean asked hesitantly. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

“It’s why you’re helping me. I reached 500 subs and this is what the people wanted Dean.”

“They wanted you to put on a maid costume?” The words came out harsher than intended, but come on, Cas.

“Yes.”

Dean blinked. “And you’re going to do that?” 

“Yes. Dean, I don’t understand what is so confusing about this. Do you want to help with the lighting or not?” 

Dean hesitated, but ultimately agreed. He had already said yes; it would just be rude to leave him to do it himself now. So, Dean stowed his crap and moved around the lighting fixtures. Cas had said before that he wanted something called a ring light, and Dean was beginning to understand why. The lighting setup in this place was crap. It’s not like Dean has ever had to worry about that before, but it certainly posed an issue now. 

“You know, Dean,” Cas spoke up as they finally agreed on the outcome of the lighting situation, “They have also expressed interest in having you here with me. You are welcome to stay for the stream.” 

Dean thought he was going to choke.

“Wh-what? Cas, how do they even know about me?” He wouldn’t admit it, but he would be nervous enough in front of a camera, but next to Cas as he was in that, Dean wasn’t sure he would survive. 

“I talk about you a lot. You are my best friend, Dean.” 

And there it was. The proverbial knife in his chest again. Best Friend. It’s not like it wasn’t a title he had forced on them, even after Cas’s confession. Still, it hurt when Cas talked about them like that. 

“Well, fine then. I guess, uh, call me back in when you’re… ready.” Dean scratched at the back of his neck while he spoke, eyes averted from Cas’s gaze.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Dean. It was only an offer.” Cas clarified as he pulled off his trenchcoat. Dean’s breath got caught in his throat. 

“No!” He coughed, cleared his throat, and tried again. “No, uh, I’ll do it. I’ll just… give you a minute.” Dean rushed out the rest of his words and swiftly removed himself from Cas’s room, shutting the door behind him. He had to compose himself before seeing Cas in that thing. 

Leaning against the door, Dean forced himself to think about what he wanted. He had gotten out of the life for the most part. He had an ex-angel living a few rooms away from him who was in love with him and who he loved back but hadn’t had the guts to say it. What the Hell was he so afraid of? Losing him? Of course that had always been part of it, but now? They beat the biggest bad you could think of and their days of running headlong into danger were over. His other obstacle was thinking Cas couldn’t love him the way Dean loved Cas. But that too had been proven not to be the case. So what the Hell was he still pussy-footing around like this for? 

The door swung open from behind him and he stumbled back into the room, his back hitting square against Cas’s chest. They both tumbled to the floor, a flailing heap of limbs grasping at each other for purchase. They landed hard and Dean’s weight firmly pushed Cas into the firm ground.

“Shit.” Dean hissed, quickly rolling off of Cas and kneeling beside him to be sure he didn’t break anything. “You okay?” 

Cas groaned. “Yes, I’m fine.” It sounded strange and he sat up, rubbing at his elbow. That’s when Dean’s brain caught up with his eyes. Cas was crumbled on the floor -checking himself for bumps and bruises- in the maid dress. It frilled above his knees, enticingly short. The small apron on the front wrinkled over his lap from the fall and Dean could just picture how short the dress would be if he stood up. The sleeves were poofed, a thin line of lace running around the edges to keep it tight on his arms. Dean could never have imagined Cas looking this good in something like this. It should look silly, but Dean was entirely sure he was liking it. 

“Cas-” His words broke off as they fled his mouth. Cas looked up from his personal assessment to rake his eyes over Dean. 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas’s eyes were stormy and Dean couldn’t read them. Instead, he inched a little closer. He wanted to say it. He needed to say it back. He had meant to do it when he first saw Cas but it never felt right. Sitting on the floor while the person of interest was dressed up in a maid costume was doubtfully the right time, but he had waited far too long already. He was done waiting. 

“Cas.” He started again, more sure of himself. “I gotta say something.” Cas stiffened then and straightened himself up onto his knees, giving Dean his full attention. 

“Dean, you don’t have to say anything. You know how I feel. I am happy with being your friend. I-”

“Damn it, Cas, just give me a second!” And Cas stopped. His shoulders slouched some and it hurt Dean deep in his chest to think Cas could ever think he didn’t feel the same. “Cas,” he started for the third time, “I don’t know why I didn’t say it back. I couldn’t. I don’t know. But… but I do. Cas, you gotta know I do too.”

“Dean…” It sounded like a warning. Like Cas was telling him he didn’t have to risk changing things if he didn’t want this. But Cas was as much an idiot as Dean if he didn’t know Dean wanted this. 

“I love you.” He said it fast, pushing the words past his lips before his brain could think too hard about it and mess it up. When his mind caught up, he released a hasty breath and his lips involuntarily ticked up at one end. “I love you.” He said it again. And then a third and fourth ime. The more he voiced it the more it tasted like candy on his tongue. When he met Cas’s eyes, they were shiny, dewey pools gathering at the corners, threatening to overflow and spill down his cheeks.

Dean’s hands moved on their own. He came up and gathered Cas’s face in them, pulling his lips to his own and not caring how hard they crashed together. The heat of the moment was intoxicating, stealing every breath Dean could hope to take right out of his lungs. Cas was everything. He was human now and he felt like it. He tasted like it, he sounded like it. Divinity reduced into the palm of his hands. 

When they broke apart, desperate for air, Dean could feel the tears sliding down his fingers.

“Dean-” Cas broke, his voice rasped and low, impossibly hungry. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Cas. I’m sorry it took me ‘til now to say it. But, I love you. If you… if you still want this, I swear you can have it-you can have me, Cas. I’m so sorry.” 

Cas let out a broken sob, lips curling up into a smile in spite of it. “Yes, Dean. Of course I still want this. God, I could never want anything but this; but you.” His laugh was chopped, but it made Dean smile nevertheless. 

“Good… Good.” 

And Dean kissed him again. He was greedy for it, starving for his touch. He had let himself want for far too long and now that his self-imposed obstacles had been drawn and quartered, he was going to take everything Cas would give him. 

When Cas pulled away, it was with a laugh- a real laugh, low and hearty and no longer tainted by tears.

“Dean, I… I still have to do the stream.”

Dean blinked. The what? 

“Hm?” He placed a small kiss at the corner of Cas’s mouth where it was upturned. 

“The stream, Dean. I didn’t get in this silly thing for nothing, you know.” 

Dean leaned back and surveyed Cas’s attire again. Fuck, it looked good on him. Way better than it should. 

“Would you still like to join me?” The grin held mischief behind it and Dean felt his interest in his pants. 

“I uh… Cas, I don’t think that’s such a good idea anymore.” He gulped. Cas just squinted his eyes in that totally-shouldn’t-be-attractive way and tilted his head with it. Dean stuttered on. “I’m not sure I can uh… behave on a livestream if you’re going to be in this thing.” Dean averted his gaze from the smirk he knew would be resting on Cas’s stupid perfect lips. 

“I see…” Cas trailed off, forcing Dean to look back in curiosity. He really shouldn’t have done that. “Then you’ll just have to come back when I’m done, hm? It was very difficult to put on. Perhaps you can help me out of it?” 

Dean’s jaw dropped. What was he getting himself into? He ended up nodding, far too enthusiastically, in response. That garnered another toothy grin as Cas stood up. Still kneeled on the floor, Dean could practically see all the way up the dress and he averted his gaze once more as his cheeks flared red, taking Cas’s offered hands for help up. Cas walked him backwards to the door and out into the hall. 

“Good things come to those who wait, Dean. So be a good boy and wait for me, okay?”

Every tiny bit of composure Dean had hoped to hold onto flew out the window and was replaced by a frantic, bussing warmth that spread through his chest like wildfire. Holy Hell, why was that hot? Dean strangled himself for a breath, to just swallow the lump in his throat and look back up at Cas. When he did, Cas just raised a brow and shut the door.

Fuck, Cas was going to be the death of him. But you know what? What a way to go.

[og-danny-dorito]

{Some Idia Shroud Headcanons}

hello i love him and want the best for Idia Shroud thank you very much

🎮 sleep deprived 24/7

🎮 it’s not even because he has a serious medical issue with his sleep, but his brain patterns have him hardwired to be more productive during the night and so he ends up staying up at ungodly hours just because it’s easier for him to work like that

🎮 usually he spends said time either playing games or working on his next project, which will either be a very well made game with the dumbest concept known to man or an intricate 3D model of his favorite anime character there’s nothing in between those two

🎮 oh yeah he likes anime btw

🎮 to assume that he DOESNT it a crime against humanity- the man plays video games, writes code, and is overall a huge ass nerd. to assume that he has never laid eyes on an anime girl in his life is heresy and i will not stand for it

🎮 there’s a bunch of animes in the TWST universe that he likes, but theoretically speaking if he were to have access to the ones popular in our universe i’m pretty sure that he would mostly gravitate towards action/horror/slice of life

🎮 yes, slice of life is included in there because this king will sit down and watch hours of Toradora! and K-On! then go right behind those two and watch some shit like Devilman: Crybaby and Corpse Party like it’s nothing

🎮 he doesn’t really strike me as the kinda guy who’s into shonen jump like Boku No Hero Academia and Haikyuu! but he still watched/read a few of them to have something else to share with his friends online

🎮 yes he has friends they’re just not in person most of the time

🎮 the friend group he’s acquired is this group of 6 dudes that all play games with each other pretty often but haven’t really met in real life and hang out on some discord servers together for different games

🎮 i’m convinced that they do streams together sometimes and that idia has acquired a good fucking portion of followers on the TWST equivalent of Twitch just because the videos are so funny

🎮 like, talking online comes super easy for him and he’s developed a more open version of his personality there that he feels isn’t suffocated by his anxiety when talking to people in person

🎮 he doesn’t show his face in the streams, usually turning off his camera and only speaking when he has to, but he makes up for it by being absolutely hilarious during streams and being so weirdly open that it makes him seem like a completely different person in real life

🎮 his tag is probably something like [ bloo_flame ] or something like that but ever since he got flustered at the name “blueberry” by one of the girls that played with them one time everyone’s started calling him that to tease him

🎮 i’m pretty sure that when he gets flustered his hair flares up like it does when he’s angry but a little less intense. it’s more like just a little POOF and his hair is burning brother than it had been before, his face almost matching the red color it presents

🎮 it’s kinda cute since he gets flustered pretty easily if it’s around someone he’s not sure how to act around like, in some cases, someone he likes

🎮 it’s very rare that idia will find romantic interest in other people, but the few times he has have been absolute nightmares for him

🎮 every time the person comes around he feels like his insides are turning to mush and his already twisted tongue becomes a knot of words he can’t get out of his mouth quick enough to play it off

🎮 he gets a little more open with them, dare i say affectionate, but that really just means that he isn’t outwardly opposed to touch like he usually would be and makes a conscious effort to seek them out if they’re nearby

🎮 i’m convinced he’s not straight so my guess is that he’s somewhere along the lines of demisexual panromantic or demisexual biromantic. he gets nervous around everyone that he finds romantic interest in but a little less in more masculine figures since he feels more accustomed to interacting with males

🎮 he’s still super respectful to girls or feminine people though since he was raised well so like he drinks his Respect Women Juice even though his brain short circuits when a girl/feminine presenting person talks to him

🎮 def a switch-leaning-bottom regardless of the gender tho. he probably gets pegged sorry i don’t make the rules

🎮 OH also before i forget he probably likes greek food a lot because like hades is from greek mythology and shit

🎮 like yeah his favorite food of all time is candy, but expect this man to have boxes upon boxes of greek takeout food around his room when his team is going through a tough level of something or he’s getting really invested in a project he’s doing

🎮 he’s one of those people who tend to loose focus of their surroundings if they work too hard, so it’s common that if he’s really deep into something he will completely neglect his need for sleep and cleanliness

🎮 it’s okay though, he usually keeps his room and house really clean since clutter and filth make him anxious so don’t worry about that kinda stuff happening too often

{ ~Thank You For Reading!~ }

[mouse-fantoms]

That Time Of The Year

Phantoms during the holiday season, new meaning

Julie nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I will NEVER get used to that.” She said in response to seeing Luke on the couch as she walked into the living room with a box.

“My bad.” He apologized.

She carried the box with her and set it down on the table beginning to open it.

“What’s that?” He wondered.

From the cardboard box she pulled out a red bobble. “Ordaments!”

She noticed his reaction, “Oh... this early?”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that early...” she said beginning to put ordamendments on baren tree.

“Sorry... it’s just-” she noticed how he seemed to hesitate.

“You don’t need to get into it if you don’t want to.” She assumed it had something to do with the past, a touchy matter.

“But I want to.” He let her know. “When I ran out on my parents... it was around this time.”

“Oh...” She understood. “...maybe you can work on associating it with something else.” She offered.

He cocked his head curiously. She held out a blue ordament in her hand. He stared blankly at it.

“Come here.” She gestured her head.

He got up from the couch and went over to her. He tried to grab the ordament however his hand went right through. However after a few attempts, he finally got a hold of it. Julie stepped aside from being in front of the tree. He looked at her for what to do next. She looked to the tree then back at him hoping he’d get the hint. He hung the blue bulb on the open branch in front of him, he then looked to her for gratitude.

“You want to help me put more on?”

He hesitated but then a smile adorned his face, “Yeah... that would be nice.”

They shared a smile as they began to pull more ordaments from the box and place them on the tree together wherever there was open space on the tree.

“Wow.” They heard someone from the couch say. They turned their heads to see that Reggie had decided to poof in.

“Like it?” Julie smiled.

“It looks nice.”

“Want to help?”

“No thanks... I’m- I’m alright.” Luke immediately saw his uncertainty to answer.

“The invite still applies you know.” He said.

He nodded understanding. “I know.”

Julie felt like she was in the middle of some sort of second code. “Decided to get away time from dad?” She decided to change the subject.

“Yeah, he started to look up presents for you guys and I didn’t want to intrude.”

“That reminds me!” Julie remembered. “What do you guys want?”

“What?” Luke asked confused.

“You want to get us something?” Reggie wanted to clear it up.

“Yeah...” she was confused as to why they were.

“You don’t have-”

“But I do." She interrupted Luke. “You guys are important to me.”

Reggie and Luke smiled at her calling them important in her life.

“It’s been awhile.” Luke had a hard time remembering the last time he was asked.

“Pretty sure we’ll be happy with whatever you get us.”

Just then Ray entered the room.

“Starting early?” He asked seeing his daughter had already began to decorate.

“I couldn’t resist.” She shrugged.

He noticed how much of the tree was decorated in the short of time. Especially the ordaments that where placed higher than his daughter’s height.

“Had help?”

Her smile answered his question.

“Are they...?”

Seeing the blue ordament move from the box to the tree he got his answer.

“Hi Luke.” He smiled.

Learning the truth about his daughter’s band was... interesting to say the least. Luckily though, he got pretty used to the idea fairly quickly. The boys had brought music back into her life. They brought his little girl back. Not that he directly owed them anything but they had done so much for his daughter. It was always touching knowing that they weren’t only a band but friends too. Of course, since learning of them, Ray and Carlos were constantly curious if they were around. Julie couldn’t blame them but it did get repetitive after awhile so instead a system was emplaced especially after Ray learned that Reggie likes to hang with him.

He decided to leave a notebook out with a pen so that Reggie could let him know if he was there. It didn’t take long for the others to also chat with Ray. He left out many different colors of pens but Reggie seemed to always go for the red, Luke the blue and Alex the pink. It was already pretty clear who’s writing was who’s but it was always nice to see the different colors of writing. It was refreshing whenever Julie came home and he would hear, “Luke stop pushing Alex. Alex stop telling Reggie that it’s your to turn to- ok all of you will get a turn to talk to das if you just wait.”. Out of anything for the boys to “fight” over that was probably the best option.

“Should have known.” He added when learning that it was Luke who was helping her with the tree. “Are Reggie and Alex...”

“Reggie’s on the couch.” she told him, “He was with you until you started to look at gifts for Carlos and I, he didn’t want to intrude.”

“You could have been talking to me.” He looked in the direct of where he assumed Reggie was.

There was silence as Julie was listening to what Reggie was saying in order to translate it to him.

“Sometimes he just likes to be by you... it’s comforting.”

“...well in that case be by me as much as you want.”

“Also stay around as long as you want if it means seeing what we get.” Carlos had come from the kitchen into the living room overhearing the conversation.

“Carlos...” Ray began.

“Just a suggestion.” He put his hands up in defense.

Julie let out a laugh, “It’s not like he would say anything if he did see something.” she paused hearing what Reggie was saying. “He wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Oh yeah!” He dad remembered hearing the word surprise. “Did you...”

“Yes I did, I already have it covered.”

Luke’s eyebrows furrowed guessing what was being talked about. “You guys both really don’t have to get us any-”

“But we want to Luke.” She looked heartwarmingly behind her to him. “Please?”

He couldn’t deny the look in her eyes.

“They’re having one of their moments.” Carlos whispered to his dad which Julie gave a response via a glare. She looked over to Ray as a hint to tell him to scold him.

“How many times have I told you to not get involved in your sister’s realationship?”

“DAD!”

“Hey,” he looked to his son already pushing him towards the door, “why don’t we head to the store to pick up some of those decorations?” He wanted to change the subject.

“Ooo!” Reggie perked up. “I wanna go too!” Luke and Julie watched him poof away as Ray and Carlos left through the front door.

“Glad he can at least do that.” Luke said to himself with a warm smile once his friend poofed away.

Julie looked to him curious.

“Back when he was alive,” she noticed how he paused, “his parents were always shouting at each other. He would come late at night to the studio to join Alex and I. We always told him that he could come more often if he needed to and he’d just nod. The amount of Christmas’ we would spend in that garage. It would be a no brained for Alex and I and we’d always remind him that he was invited.”

Reggie hanging out with Ray, Luke earlier telling him that the invite still applied and turning down the offer of decorating the tree all suddenly made a lot of sense.

“It’s just nice to see that he doesn’t mind going with your dad and brother to do Christmas-y shopping.”

“So you guys have always spent Christmas with each other?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah... guess we have. But now-”

She shared his smile, “Now?”

He handed her an ordament to put up. As the two continued to accessorize the tree, Julie thought about how much of a change this Christmas was compared to past ones. Sadly, it would be one without her mom, but she’d be spending it with 3 of the most amazing guys in the world. She kept in mind that after she be very very sure that the gifts in her room were extra extra hidden (just in case). At least the blue beanie, gay pride pin and a The Child plushie were all already wrapped.

At least she’d still be spending the season with her family, that hadn’t changed even with the 3 new additions in her life.

[homebody-nobody]

you’re a part of me

(WHAT?? Jax wrote ANOTHER fic?? THREE FICS?? in TWO WEEKS?? I know, I’m shocked too. We’re gettin closer and closer to bein a Real Fic Writer lads.) How many juke first kiss fics will you write, Jax? all of them. as many as I want. I dunno. you're an adult obsessed with a tweeny-bopper show. shut up. who even has the patience for 5 +1s in this house it's 3 +1 and only barely bc I don't know how structured fic works so it's not even separate like it's supposed to be. anyway enjoy some dumb teenagers falling in love if the dialogue is cringe sorry lol I was trying to stay in the tone of the show and may have gone a little bit too disney channel (Also if you see typos/the same adjective used twice in one sentence/paragraph, no you didn't I don't edit it makes me nervous)  ------------------------------- (ao3) ------------------------------ '... Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity. Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable.'

(3 times Julie and Luke almost kissed and 1 time they did) ------------------------------------ Luke is overly physical. Theoretically, Julie already knew this. She’s seen him with the boys, the way he lives in other people’s space, hanging off Reggie and lurking next to Alex, not caring where his lanky limbs or knees or elbows end up, even if it’s in other people’s ribs. He was never like that with her, too afraid of the crushing disappointment that came when she phased through his hands. But now, there isn’t the strange, tingles-up-her neck way-weird, way-wrong sensation that came when she accidentally brushed through him. So even though Julie’s used to keeping a respectful distance, Luke has thrown out any semblance of personal space. He orbits around her just as closely as the others, no longer threatened by or hyper-aware of the consequences of his proximity.  Basically, he’s getting entirely too comfortable. 

She notices it the first time during rehearsal, when they’re hashing out the particulars of a melody -- Luke wants it to go down, and Julie thinks it should go up. She plunks herself down at the grand piano to prove that her idea will sound better, fanning the half-finished sheet music out across the top, pointing out the measure they’re arguing over, smudged and crinkled from repeated erasings. 

Luke narrows his eyes at her from across the room, his face set in his trademark (adorable) grumpy expression. “It just sounds better!” she argues. “Listen.” She puts her hands on the keys, left hand hitting the chord, right dancing over her proposed melody. “So please, keep chasing me…” she sings, building to the last word and sliding her voice over an intricate run ending in a step up. Looking up, she tilts her head, her wild hair piled into a tenuous bun, curly tendrils framing her face. Luke’s stomach does an interesting flip. “See?” 

He stands up, swinging his guitar strap down across his chest before walking around her, putting his right hand over where hers had just been on the paper. He stands just behind her shoulder, sending goosebumps down her spine. “It should go down,” he insists. “It’ll flow better with the next line and then the break before the chorus makes more sense. Listen.” He puts his foot up on the bench and swings his guitar back up like it's an extension of him, playing a riff and singing the line they’re arguing about before dipping in to the next. “So please keep chasing me,” he sings, his voice gracefully stepping up and then back down, “Cause even though I’m runnin’, I know you’re the one I need.” 

“You’re making it too simple!” she cries, slamming her hands down in her lap and turning to face him. She opens her mouth to continue the argument, but when she looks at him, she starts, finally realizing just how close he is. The toe of his sneaker brushes her leg, and he leans over the sheet music, closing her in against the piano. His dark eyebrows pull together, mouth slightly pinched as he concentrates, solid and strong and very much in her space. “Um --” she says. 

He shrugs, shaking his head a little bit. “What,” he says, not understanding what she’s having a problem with. Julie’s eyes drop to his mouth, close and stupid kissable, and he notices the motion. The air crackles as both of them unconsciously draw closer, song forgotten, focused only on each other. Luke leans in, half an inch, and Julie’s breath hitches in her chest. This is stupid. She knows this is stupid. Luke is dead. Full ghost. Not real. Well, real, but not a viable option. He might have a physical presence now -- a very strong, very warm, very attractive physical presence -- but that doesn’t make him any more possible. And yet, here she is, pulled into him like he has his own gravitational field and she’s helpless to it. Luke licks his lips, and Julie tilts her chin up, fractional motion tiptoeing toward something irreversible and dangerous. 

Just as she’s about to step over that uncrossable line, there’s an almighty crash. Both of their heads whip up in time to see Alex topple off his stool -- he’d fallen asleep as they were arguing. The noise wakes Reggie, whose head was lolling against his amp. “I didn’t do it!” he yells, flailing into sitting up straight. 

Julie clears her throat and turns back to the keyboard, stretching her hands over the keys. “You’re, uh --” she says, glancing at Luke out of the corner of her eye to find him smirking in an infuriatingly adorable manner. “You’re right. It should go down.” He stands up straight, mildly surprised at his easy victory, and backs off from the piano to show Reggie the chords. They sketch out the verse and Alex adds a backing beat, the moment forgotten. 

That is, until Carlos comes in to nag her to eat. Alex poofs out and Reggie dives behind his amp. Since the whole discovering-corporeality thing, they’re not totally sure if Julie’s the only one who can see them still, and they’d rather not have to explain to Julie’s dad what three teenage ‘holograms’ are doing living in his garage. Carlos delivers his message and then darts back inside, eager for dinner, and Julie stands up from the piano, gathering the half-finished song and tucking it into the folder she keeps her in-progress projects in. 

Reggie emerges in a comic mess of limbs and grins at her, Alex poofing back on to his stool. “I’ll be back after dinner to finish this,” she says, hoping they don't notice the shake in her hands as she tucks the folder away. Luke pops his chin over the edge of the couch, behind which he’d taken cover. 

“Hey Julie!” he calls, and she turns back to look at him. “Just remember; KISS.” 

Her brain short-circuits, heart tripping over itself as she remembers his eyes on her, his shoulders and his hands and his stupid concentration face. “I, uh -- What are you --” she sputters.

A shit-eating grin spreads across Luke’s face as he puts his elbows on top of the couch and pushes himself up. “Keep it simple, stupid.” 

Julie practically runs out of the garage. Alex raises an eyebrow, his gaze arcing from the door to land on Luke. “That was uh…” Luke schools his expression into one of false innocence. “Bold.” Luke rolls his eyes and brushes him off, but Reggie gives Alex a knowing look. Their friends are idiots. 

It happens again one afternoon when Carlos has a baseball game and Julie has the house to herself. Or, so she thinks. She’s lazing around on the couch, avoiding her history homework spread out on the coffee table, Adventure Time babbling on the television. She’s slowly working her way through a bag of gummy bears and m&ms (her favorite candy combination),  wearing an enormous hoodie that used to be her mom’s, home alone; life is fantastic. Until -- 

“Oh, sweet, cartoons!” Luke poofs into existence directly next to her on the couch, and she starts violently enough to shake candy into the couch cushions. Some of it lands on his chest, and he holds up a green gummy bear with a wistful expression. Julie just stares at him, still mildly in shock, definitely still annoyed, and really not in the mood to endure his moping about food when she was having a perfectly nice time by herself. 

“Hey,” he says, either ignoring or unaware of what he’s just done to her heart rate and her peaceful afternoon. “You think now that I’m corporeal --” (he over-pronounces the word, having just learned it from Flynn days before) “I can eat like, regular human food?” It isn’t until he looks to her for an answer that he realizes what he’s just done. “Oh, sorry,” he says, that same stupid-ass grin settling on his face, not sorry even a little bit. “Did I spook ya?” 

His glee at the pun, which he definitely stole from Reggie, sparkles in his gray-green eyes, and Julie’s heart, which had just started to recover from his sudden appearance, trips over itself one more time. Emerging from the shaken-up snowglobe of her brain, she blurts out her first thought. “You’re the worst,” she says, even while thinking the opposite. 

He looks genuinely hurt for about half a second before turning the gummy bear towards her, too, and speaking for it. “You should be nice to Luke,” he says in an absurd voice. “He’s so handsome and talented!” He laughs at his own joke and pitches his voice up to continue with the bit, but she snatches the candy out of his hand and pops into her mouth, grinning. He feigns shock. “That bear could have had a family, Julie.” 

“If they did, they’ll all be happy together in my stomach,” she says, eating another one to punctuate the statement. Luke laughs, and the sound has a heart-stopping melody of its own. It’s comfortable, the relationship that they’ve developed with each other. He always laughs at her jokes and is the first to offer her a compliment after rehearsal, and she loves his dorky sense of humor, even when she gives him a hard time about it. They write music and goof around, and even with the (very strong) undercurrent of romantic (she hopes) tension between them, a friendship sits comfortably on top. He’s only been in her life for a short time,  but she can’t imagine it without him. Her feelings for him endanger that, so she does her best not to let it show. He asks her what she’s watching, and she explains the basic premise of the episode so that he can understand what’s going on. 

She’s hyper-aware of him as they watch the show, and  she envies the ease with which he occupies her space, his shoulder brushing hers, their knees occasionally bumping. He slouches all the way down on the couch, one foot kicked up on the table, turning the remote in his hands and messing with the battery cover, completely at home. (He’s always fiddling with something -- a pen, his necklace -- or bouncing his leg, or clicking a guitar pick between his teeth. It’s a habit that’s mostly adorable and only sometimes annoying.) If he notices her staring at him, he doesn’t say anything. 

It takes a couple more episodes, but she finally relaxes, and the distance between them -- already spare -- vanishes, her shoulder tucked under his, her head angled toward him, their feet bumping on the table. Half her attention is on Finn and the land of Ooo, and half on the boy beside her, who doesn’t seem to give any indication that he’s thinking about this as much as she is. Luke has a way of pulling her in until she’s closer than she ever planned to be, like she can’t help but touch him. Ever since the night they played the Orpheum, he’s become magnetic, his presence a force she can’t resist. If she tilted her head down, just a fraction, it would be resting on his shoulder. What would he do? Would he shrug her off, or rest his head on hers? She watches his hands play with the remote, imagining what his strong, slender fingers would feel like laced with hers. She’s had crushes before, of course -- she liked Nick all the way from seventh grade up to this year -- but nothing so real and powerful as this. 

“Don’t you think Finn sounds just like Reggie?” Luke asks, pulling her from her thoughts. She looks up at him, and he looks down at her, and -- oh. 

He’s very close. 

His eyes always remind her of an overcast sky, swirling with unknown depth, and they widen when they meet hers, filled with awe. Blood rushes in her ears, muting the TV, tuning out anything that isn’t him. Her heart is beating so hard and so fast she wonders peripherally if he can hear it, and then that thought fizzles out with the rest of any kind of logic when his gaze drops to her mouth. He’s going to kiss her. He’s going to kiss her!! Panic and elation and anticipation all scramble in her chest. She’s never kissed anyone before, and even though she’s never asked, she knows he probably has. What if she’s bad at it? She’s half freaking out and half telling herself to shut the hell up as he turns his entire body towards her, his hand reaching up to hold her face and -- 

The front door slams open, announcing Carlos and Ray. “Mija!!” her dad calls. Luke jerks back from her like he’s been burned, eyes filled with absolute terror, before he disappears. 

“JULIEEEEE!!” Carlos hollers, launching himself across the living room at her and landing on her stomach, knocking the air out of her. Her arms come up around him automatically, despite all the sweat and the diamond dirt sticking to it. Feeling mildly shell shocked and like she’s been hit by a hell of a lot more than her little brother, she barely listens as Carlos and their dad babble over each other in an attempt at telling the story of Carlos’ game-winning home-base slide. She’ll be happy for him once her heart rate slows down. 

Luke stays away for almost a full twenty-four hours after that particular mishap, long enough she almost asks Reggie and Alex if he talked to them about it. There’s about a thousand reasons not to, but mostly, she doesn’t know if she can even explain just what happened. She does tell Flynn, who launches into a very confusing monologue that starts with her admonishing Julie for thinking anything good can come from involving herself with a literal ghost and ends with her gushing about how many cute love songs they could write together, zero percent of which makes her feel better. 

The only reason he doesn’t continue avoiding her is rehearsal, which, of course, he would never miss. She’s hoping to talk to him before they get started, but then the bus gets stuck in traffic and all of her boys are already set up with their instruments and having an impromptu jam session by the time she gets home.  “What --” she hisses as she heaves the doors shut behind her. “Did I tell you guys about playing in here without me?” Alex shrugs and apologizes, and she can’t really be mad at Reggie, at least not for long. 

But Luke -- he barely looks at her, nervous fingers dancing across a complicated riff even as the other boys stop playing. It takes a second of silence before he looks up to see the rest of his band staring at him. “Oh,” he says, the phrase ending in the discordant sound of fingernails on steel strings. “Yeah, right. Sorry.” 

They get started, but nothing sounds right. Luke rushes the tempo and refuses to make eye contact with anyone, spinning off into fancy riffs that have no place in the song they’re working on. Reggie keeps trying to keep up with him, tripping up Alex and frustrating Julie, and when the song grinds to a cacophonous halt for the fourth time, she stands up from the piano. Reggie takes a step back. 

“What is your problem?” she practically yells, stomping over to Luke. He’s been surly and unusually stubborn, and the shift from his usual cheerful, passionate demeanor builds her own stewing anxieties to a dangerous head.

“It’s not my problem you can’t keep up,” he says, and then, after watching the words register in Julie’s expression, immediately regrets it. Alex’s eyebrows shoot up and Reggie makes a very soft ‘ooooohhh’ noise under his breath.

“It’s not keeping up if you can’t hold a steady tempo,” she says, too upset over his refusal to cooperate to catch the reaction from her bandmates.

“Okay, so maybe I was rushing,” he admits, trying to walk it back. But Julie’s on a roll, and once she gets started laying into him, she very rarely lets up.

“Thank you!” she yells, the sarcasm clear in her tone. She’d been especially fond of the product so far, a song she thought embodied the perfect blend of Luke’s harder edge and her singer-songwriter roots. His sudden, uncharacteristic left turn is as much an interruption in their rehearsal as a knock to the tenuous pride she’d been building in the piece.  “And what are all those riffs you’re tossing in? You have to hear how they don’t fit.” 

“Oh come on,” he says, proud in his ability and therefore less willing to step down. He rolls his shoulders back and moves toward her, the challenge set in his spine. “I was shredding and you know it.” Luke is sweet and kind and silly and compassionate, but he’s also a musician, and a lead guitarist at that. His ego, though it rarely becomes an issue, is far from insubstantial. 

“If you want a solo, fine!” she cries with exasperation, her hands flying through the air like they always do when she’s upset. “But you have to say something so we can give you room for it!” Her annoyance has turned down the sensitivity on her Luke-nonsense monitor, caught up enough in the trouble that she can’t see that he’s riling her up on purpose.

“What, you afraid of a little improvisation?” He’s smiling now, and his obvious glee, such a stark flip from where she thought this was going, throws off her tirade. He starts walking toward her, and his newfound physicality gives him an ability to fluster her to a much greater degree than before.

“No --” she stammers, stumbling backwards, distracted out of anger by his sparkling eyes and the power in the body approaching rapidly. “That’s not what I --” There it is again, that power he has to turn the rest of the world into radio static, her vision blurring and her hearing dulling until it’s just Luke filling up the world in front of her. 

“C’mon Julie,” he says, and right now she hates his stupid smirk and the stupid way he rolls her name around in his mouth before letting it out. “you have to take risks once in a while.” She’s backed up against the piano now, her hands wrapped tight around the lid, and he’s still pushing it, strong and warm and undeniably, frustratingly male in her space. 

But Julie isn’t one to let him intimidate her into silence, no matter how cute and well-muscled he may be. She takes a breath and looks him in his ridiculous sparkly eyes, poking him in his absurdly firm chest.“I am not afraid of taking risks, mister,” she says, “Let’s not forget who performed in front of her entire school to get back into the music program --” 

“My idea,” he scoffs, not backing up. Why isn’t he backing up.

“Or who fronts a band of actual ghosts!” she continues, her voice increasing in volume again, and the speed of her heart tripping over itself could be from the argument or the boy who’s collarbones are less than a foot from her face. Both are entirely possible. 

“Less ghost now,” he reminds her, tilting his head, his weight leaned one one leg, his hand resting on the head of his guitar, relaxed when they’re supposed to be arguing. 

“You just get to poof out after we perform!” she says, only about two-thirds of her mind still focused on the fight itself, the other third completely wrapped up in the feeling of Luke in front of her. “I’m the one who has to stick around and ask questions!” 

“So you’re saying you take chances,” he says, diabolically diplomatic instead of challenging. He leans forward, putting his hands on the piano behind her, caging her in with his arms. She refuses to back down again, even though his face is now inches from hers. “You’d take a leap of faith?” 

“Yeah,” she says, only half-certain, because she’s not totally sure they’re still talking about music, and her heart is in the base of her throat and her stomach is somewhere around her shoes, and suddenly her hands are sweating when they definitely weren’t a minute ago. This definitely isn’t an argument about the song anymore. 

“Oh yeah?” he says, and there’s the challenge again, except this one sounds more like a dare, and he’s definitely looking at her lips this time, not even trying to be subtle about it, and her hands are braced on his forearms and when did they get there? And Luke is warm and when she looks up, his eyes are on hers, and despite all that bravado and provocation there’s still a question there, and all she would have to do to answer is lift up on her toes and finally, finally press her lips against his, and -- 

Alex coughs. The oxygen goes out of the room like someone opened an airlock, and Julie feels herself sink, just barely, back down on her heels. The world fills back in, colors and sounds suddenly too bright, too abrasive. Tearing her eyes off Luke, she glances over his shoulder to where Reggie and Alex are, still with their instruments, watching them intently. Alex looks politely put out, his eyebrows tilted up with incredulity, like he's asking if they seriously just made him watch that. Reggie, on the other hand, hides nothing in his expression, shock and amusement there in equal parts as he glances between Alex and the two of them still tucked close against the piano, jaw askance in a surprised smile. 

"Are you done?" Alex asks, in a tone that sounds less like a question. "It’s not that I mind…" he gestures between the two of them with a drumstick. "This, but like, time and place, dude." He's not talking to Julie. Luke clears his throat, appropriately chastised, but still looking smug as shit. 

"Um, sorry," she mutters as he returns to his spot next to his amp. 

Alex shrugs. "Not your fault," he says, "from the top?" 

"Uh," she says, frozen for a moment in embarrassment and confusion. She looks to Alex, and he gives her one of his soft, kind smiles, the sort that makes her feel like everything is going to be okay. “Right, okay,” she finishes, as her hands twitch and she settles back into her body. Rushing back around to the bench, she flexes her hands over the keys, curling them into fists and then back out again when they tremble. “From the top.” 

The rehearsal goes -- okay, after that. The magic is missing; therefore, while she usually feels inspired and courageous and empowered walking out of the garage, she just feels exhausted and drained. She eats dinner with her family, and her dad definitely notices that she’s uncharacteristically quiet, but saves asking about it until after Carlos is safely sequestered with his iPad. “How ya doin, kiddo?” he asks as she helps him clear up the dishes. “Everything okay?” 

Julie looks at her dad with mild alarm, wondering what exactly he knows. He does his best, he really does, but it took him a while to even notice she was in a band. Not to mention, he still believes they’re holograms. “Um,” she says convincingly. “Yeah?” 

He smiles kindly, in the way that means he’s very politely calling bullshit. “Alright, mija. What’s going on?” 

Heaving a sigh, Julie keeps her eyes on the dishwasher she’s loading, trying her best to plan an escape route out of this conversation. “I promise, Dad,” she says, “It’s nothing.” and then, what she thinks are the magic words. “Boy stuff.” 

But Ray’s been prepping for this, had conversations with Rose about it before she passed, while the cancer slowly ate her alive. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to be there for her daughter through the time in her life a girl needs her mother the most, and she wasn’t about to let him hide behind toxic masculinity and leave Julie to figure it out on her own. “Okay,” Ray says, trepidation clear in his voice but also not unwilling to approach the topic. “What’s his name?” 

Julie almost drops the pot she’s scrubbing. “Does it matter?” she asks, her voice crawling up several octaves. 

“Just trying to learn who is in my daughter’s life,” he answers diplomatically, sitting down at the counter to make it clear he’s not letting her out of this one easily. 

“I promise, Dad,” she says, doing her best to frantically dodge the interrogation she knows is coming, regretting she brought it up at all, cursing herself for being so obvious. “It’s dumb. You don’t even know him.” 

Ray nods slowly, pretending to believe her. Julie goes after the pot a little harder, because maybe if she just finishes the dishes she can go upstairs and bury herself in her bed and not have to have this conversation anymore. “It’s not that guitarist, is it?” he asks, and her spine goes stiff as a ramrod. Ray’s her dad, but he’s not blind. He’s seen the way they look at each other when they perform, the way the boy follows her around the stage like a puppy, desperate for her attention, disappointed when she jams with the other members of their band and not him. He’s an excellent musician, but Ray knows too many stories of near-legends gone sour with misdirected young love. 

“No!” Julie cries immediately in an obvious lie. “Of course not!” She turns, half-laughing, explanations falling out of her mouth “We’re just friends,” she insists, lacing her fingers in front of her and nodding exaggeratedly. “Just friends. Only friends. Uh-huh. Friends. And!” she continues, gesturing widely, “he doesn’t even live here! So that… wouldn’t even make sense!” she laughs awkwardly. “So no way. That it’s him. No way it’s him.” 

Ray sighs out a laugh that Julie’s too panicked to hear and leans forward on his elbows. “Alright, nina. Just be careful, okay?” She’s nodding along, edging her way towards the stairs. “You and your band…” She looks like Rose, in that hoodie that practically swallows her, hair piled messily on top of her head. Her mom was also a terrible liar, he remembers fondly. “You have something special. Don’t throw that away for a boy.” 

Julie nods rapidly and then bolts, thundering up the stairs before throwing her bedroom door closed behind her and diving headfirst onto her bed, burying herself in decorative pillows. How does everyone  know?? First Flynn and then Reggie and Alex and now her dad? Is she that obvious? (Um, yes.) She flops onto her back, staring up at the colorful tapestries slung across her ceiling, the string lights and posters and art. Usually, she loves her room, the feeling of her creative mind as a space she can inhabit, exploring her heart and the things she loves without having to shut out the outside world. But tonight, she feels trapped in her own head, so she grabs her notebook and squeezes out the window, perched on the roof outside her room. 

The evening air is cool and crisp, the gentlest bite warning the oncoming winter, as much as there is a winter in LA. She spends a while scribbling down half-baked lyric ideas and doodling angry black scribbles around the edges of the pages when nothing comes out right. It’s harder to write on her own, now, without the steady pulse of Luke’s genius behind her, the electricity that flows between them as they create impeccable harmonies. Sometimes, it feels like music belongs to the both of them together, a joined force, like they’ve given up their individual melodies for something greater. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

Eventually, she just ends up holding the notebook open to ‘Perfect Harmony’ with one hand, the other arm wrapped around her legs, her chin propped on her knees. She still hasn’t shown it to Luke, afraid of how real it feels, how clear it makes her feelings for him. Also, it’s a ballad, which they haven’t even approached yet, and she has no idea how Reggie and Alex will feel about such an explicitly romantic duet. She’s thinking that maybe she might be able to vague it up, maybe even make it a solo piece, when Luke appears next to her, like thinking about him draws him to her. (Which might actually be true -- she hasn’t examined that very closely.) 

“Hey!” he says cheerfully, all awkwardness from the evening’s rehearsal ostensibly disappeared. He plucks the notebook out of her hand, using the other arm to hold back her immediate demands for its return. “New stuff?” he asks. This is not normally such a grievous invasion of privacy. Ever since they started writing together, their songwriting journals have become common property, and half the pages in hers are marked up with his handwriting and vice versa. 

“It’s not ready yet!” she cries, pushing against the (stupidly strong) arm he has across her collarbone, willing to climb bodily over him to snatch the notebook back. Luke’s face very slowly falls as he reads it, the lyrics sinking in, and her protests trail off as she stops scrambling to grab it out of his hands. 

He stands suddenly, pacing across the roof. “Did you --” he starts, breathing shallowly, his tongue tucking his teeth between his lips, nostrils flaring before he speaks again. “Why did you copy this out of my songbook?” It’s not accusatory, only a question, born of true confusion. 

“I didn’t,” Julie replies without skipping a beat, equally baffled. 

“I wrote this after the garage party,” he says. “How is it in your notebook?” 

“I wrote it at school before the garage party,” she replies, doing her best to keep down the memory of the Luke in her imagination and the song coming to her fully formed in the form of a Patrick Swayze-esque daydream. She didn’t even tell Flynn about that part. 

“At school…” Luke repeats, studying the lyrics with a furrow between his eyebrows, and as much as Julie is also reeling from shock at the mystery, it’s kind of adorable to watch him try and solve it. “This doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking up at her, signature grumpy expression in place. He tilts the notebook flat, like he’s presenting it to her, hoping she has the next steps. Like he’s reached his conclusion, and it’s that he’s confused. 

“It doesn’t,” she says, and it comes out as half a laugh unintentionally, just looking at his ridiculous, adorable face. 

“Why are you laughing?” he demands with exasperated urgency. “This is super weird!” He rushes over and collapses next to her, a mess of flannel and limbs and beautiful dumbass. He shoves the notebook back into her hands as she folds her legs underneath her, relinquishing her grip on her knees. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, unable to wipe the grin from her face. “Yeah, it is.” Luke looks like he wants to ask her what she’s smiling at, but then he starts smiling, too, because her happiness is his happiness. Julie’s already past the strange coincidence, lost in the joy of his gray-green eyes and the feeling of him next to her. She’s too used to strange, to the ever-changing rules of the afterlife and the constant uncertainty that Luke and her boys bring to her life. Yes, it’s strange, but she’s in a ghost band and her crush is dead and still manages to look at her like that so she has a certain level of perspective when it comes to things like this. 

“What are you --” Luke tries to say, but her eyes are on his and they’re warm and brown and kind and he’s finding it a little hard to form sentences. 

“This is ridiculous,” she says, and he’s nodding without knowing what he’s agreeing to. “We wrote the same song on the same day,” she laughs, and he nods again, half-listening, half lost in her. She’s excited now, about the possibility brought on by magic and her connection -- their  connection -- souls tied together with passion and music and love. “That’s impossible!” It cements something for her, the feeling of coming together, of sliding into place. They’re so solid, tight, together, on the same wavelength… musicians have put it a thousand ways throughout the years, to communicate the feeling of a co-writer, a bandmate, a partner, reading your mind, singing the next line, playing the next riff that was just in your head. Julie and Luke get the added bonus of being inexplicably spiritually linked. Nothing can break that, or replace it. She’s not scared of it, anymore. 

“Impossible,” he echoes. He always feels a little bit stronger, a little more alive whenever he’s with Julie like this, just the two of them, hanging out or writing music, and he’s in her immediate proximity, soaking in the warmth of her brown skin and brown eyes and the chaotic energy of her wild, incredible hair. She pulls him in, without knowing the power she holds or the light that she emits, casting a golden glow over everything around her. 

“Luke,” she says, and he tunes back in, realizing that he’s steadily leaning toward her as they sit on the roof, Julie cross-legged, Luke angled toward her, one leg stretched out, his elbow propped on his other knee. “Are you listening?” 

“Um,” he swallows, “Yeah?” but he’s looking at her lips, not her eyes, and he’s thinking about kissing her, just once, just to see what she tastes like, remembering the smell of gummies and m&ms, hoping she’ll be just as sweet. She doesn’t say anything, mostly because she forgot what she was going to say in the first place, watching his eyes watch her mouth, breathing him in. He’s too close again, closer than any friend or bandmate should be, and there’s no mic between them, and the door to her room is closed, and there’s no bandmates or brothers or dads, and her heart pounds in her chest. 

When she tilts her chin towards him, she feels ready, finally, knowing what he means to her. Only a breath separates them, but they both stop, waiting for the inevitable interruption, the door slamming open, or someone calling up from the yard below, but it doesn’t come. Realizing what they’re both waiting for, they breathe out a simultaneous laugh, their foreheads dropping together. The tension fades, and Julie’s smile feels uncontainable, demanding every inch of her face as this beautiful, goofy, genus, talented boy adores her while she sits there, falling in love with him. 

It’s easier, this moment, than the one before, because it feels less laden with the weight of someone pulling away, unsure or unwanting. This moment is comfortable, joyful, the two of them acknowledging every minute of want and disappointment and hilarious misfortune over the past few days, acknowledging what they would have asked for instead. And when Luke finally reaches up, pulling her in gently with his hand on her neck, his thumb sliding over her jaw, it’s with confidence and tenderness, reassured that she wants this, too. Julie leans easily into the touch, and when their lips meet, the spark and rush is better than any performance, any screaming crowd drowning in lights. They kiss each other, moving together, leaning in as one, harmony made in the movement of mouths and the press of lips, and this moment -- it’s perfect. 

[aro-of-artemis]

no grave can hold my body down (i'll crawl home to her)

A jukebox soulmate au where your missing stuff finds its way to your soulmate.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147940

They say that there's someone who makes up the rest of your soul. That they're your perfect match and once you meet them, once you touch them, your wandering souls will be fused back together, whole and unbroken.

 Luke's not sure who they are. But honestly, he just wishes his shit would stop going permanently missing. You lose something and it's sucked through some kind of hole in space-time to be found by your soulmate. Luke would really like to have a conversation with whoever came up with this system cause it sucks.

 Cause he's a forgetful guy. His brain is always going a million miles an hour, with at least three different trains of thought chugging away and sometimes the tracks cross and there's a collision and all the passengers have to bail out and it's just a mess, okay? Keeping track of his stuff tends to fall by the wayside a little bit.

 It's how he lost his favourite beanie. And don't get him started on the number of individual socks that have just poofed themselves out of existence. He always has to have a box of new guitar picks handy because as soon as it's not in his hand or clamped between his teeth, it's as if it never existed. He just hopes his soulmate appreciates them.

 But it's a give and take. He'll reach into his pocket to find scrunchies, hair clips, endless bobby pins. Just generic stuff that tells him very little about who his soulmate is except that they probably have long hair. (Once, he found one long, dark hair curling around the folds of a scrunchie. He keeps it tucked between the pages of a notebook, stashed away on his bookshelf.)

 (And yeah: they. He's spent a lot of time thinking about this. He's had crushes on all sorts of people and their gender never really made a difference, but his introspection also leads to a solid black ring resting on the middle finger of his right hand.)

 One day, he opens his school bag to find a homework page that does not belong to him. He looks at it, front and back, scouring for a name, a hint, a clue, feeling a thing with feathers rise behind his ribs, reducing his lung capacity and making him draw in shallower breaths. But nothing. Just the slightly messy handwriting of someone who thinks faster than they can write. He sighs and stuffs it back in his bag, reluctantly retrieving his maths book. His frustrated sigh must have been audible because Reggie leans over from his own desk.

 "Hey, you all right, man?' His eyebrows are drawn up together, lines of concern creasing his face.

 "Yeah, yeah. Just soulmate stuff junking up my bag."

 It's not always junk, though. A bracelet turns up on his bedside table. He starts wearing it every day. He refuses to take it off, even to sleep. Sheet music to an unfamiliar song is found wedged between his records. This particular item makes his heart beat faster, his chest tingling and warm. Because they're a musician too. It makes sense, of course. No way his soulmate could not like music. It's basically Luke's entire soul (or half soul, he guesses). But the confirmation makes him feel both calmer and more anxious. He wants to meet this person.

 His favourite item to ever turn up is a photo. A woman and a little kid sit in a field, turned towards each other, faces pointed away from the camera. But he can see their smiles. He sleeps with it next to his face on the pillow the night he finds it because he doesn't want to look away. In the morning, he tucks it into the back of his song-writing journal where he keeps the rest of his heart.

 At 17, he and his best friends are on the precipice of being legends. As he pulls his guitar from the case, a long, striped scarf flutters to the ground, the kind someone might tie in their hair or loop around their wrist. He ties it around his bicep for good luck. It makes him feel like his soulmate is there, by his side, cheering him on.

 They meet a girl - Rose - who looks so familiar. Something about her smile. But he just can't quite put a finger on it. All he knows is that her presence is reassuring. Safe. He doesn't know her but he feels a tug in his chest that says family. The same tug he feels when he looks at Alex and Reggie and Bobby. (He's changed his mind, his half of his shared soul is made up of these three dorks and the music they make together.)

 And then he dies. As darkness closes in around him, he thinks I'm sorry, boys and I'll never get to meet them.

  ---

 "Flynn!" Julie whines. "I can't find my homework anywhere!"

 Flynn rolls her eyes. "Did you check your school bag?"

 "Yes," Julie bites out, not actually mad at Flynn, just at the situation.

 "Your desk?" A nod. "Your dad's car? Under your bed? Your locker?"

 Julie has to stop her. She knows from experience that Flynn'll just keep going. "Yes, it's not anywhere."

 Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, a smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. "Well, guess it's gone to your soulmate then."

 Julie groans loudly in frustration. She pulls her beanie (their beanie) down over her eyes and slumps back against her locker, trying desperately to not look like she's pouting but definitely pouting. Flynn just gives her an unimpressed look.

 Julie breathes out harshly through her nose and resigns herself to retrieving the schoolwork she does have from her locker.

 "Ugh, gross!" she exclaims, fishing a pair of boxers out from where they had appeared in the dark recesses of her locker.

 Flynn's snort turns into a full belly laugh as Julie holds them away from her body, arm extended as if she were holding hazardous waste.

 She chucks them back in and slams the door shut. "Come on, let's get to class."

 Flynn follows, tripping over herself as she continues to laugh her way down the hall.

 ---

 Julie isn't sure who her soulmate is or whether she knows them already. Of course, it's pretty rare to meet them in high school, but a girl can dream. Unfortunately, it seems that her soulmate is terrible at doing laundry because she'll often find individual socks lying on her bedroom floor and undies crumpled in the corner of her bathroom. The beanie that turns up is quickly added into regular rotation and if it isn't on her head, it's tucked into her bedside table. The muscle tank threw an interesting spanner in the works as it set her mind to imagining the kind of person who might wear something like that. (She might, maybe become a person who wears something like that. Occasionally. When the desire strikes her.)

 She's fairly certain that they're a musician. She's constantly finding half-written lyrics strewn around her room in the most atrocious handwriting seen outside of a doctor's office. The lyrics - those that are legible - are beautiful. Occasionally they'll be lyrics to a Trevor Wilson song, though, which is a bit weird but she assumes they must just be a big fan. She appreciates their good taste.

 Another hint is the guitar picks. She finds them everywhere: in her sock draw, between the pages of her school books, next to her toothbrush. One memorable time, she found a pick snarled in her hair. And all of them, every last one, are covered in tooth marks. As if her soulmate has a habit of chewing on their guitar picks. It's kinda gross. Even so, she collects them in a jar on her desk with the date she'd found them written on the back.

 ---

 The boys turn up and her life is turned right-side up. She tells them to stay out of her room. Constantly. Boundaries, she reminds them. Alex and Reggie get it, they can respect her personal space. But, Luke. She knows he goes in there because he keeps leaving his stuff everywhere.

 On this day she finds his flannel just draped across her bed, as if he's trying to irritate her. She snatches it up and storms down to the studio.

 "Luke!" she shouts as she enters the studio, ready to tear him a new one. "What have I told you about going in my roo-"

 She stops short because all three boys are ripping the place apart, looking for something. When he turns around to face her, she sees tears wetting his face that he quickly tries to swipe away. Her heart leaps into her throat.

 "Luke, what's wrong?" she tries to ask but is interrupted.

 "You found it!" His voice is a little watery but exuberant.

 "I -- what?" she shoots him a quizzical look.

 "My flannel. Well - my dad's flannel, but -" he cuts himself off, scrubbing his fist over his eyes.

 Julie scoffs a little, gently. "Yeah, dude. You left it in my room."

 His eyebrows furrow in that way of his.

 "No, I didn't."

 "Uh, yeah. You did."

 "I haven't been in your room."

 "Well, clearly you have," she says, shaking the flannel a little and holding it out to him.

 "Thanks," he says softly as he grabs it, still looking at it with a bewildered expression. But he shrugs it on and uses the sleeve to wipe away what remains of his tears.

 When Julie looks over at Reggie and Alex, they're exchanging a meaningful look that Julie can't quite read. When they notice her gaze, they both glance away, once again fascinated with the chairs on the ceiling.

 Huh.

 ---

  "Julie! Stop leaving your homework in my song-writing journal!"

 "I didn't put it there!"

 "Well who did, then?"

 The patented Reggie and Alex LookTM makes an appearance.

 ---

 "Hey! I used to have a beanie like that!"

 "Uhuh."

 "I did! It was my favourite until I lost it."

 Julie nods but doesn't look up from her homework.

 ---

 "Ew, gross, Luke! Why do guitarists chew on their picks?"

 He shrugs a little sheepishly. "It just helps me think. Besides, if I put it down it just kind of … disappears into the void." He gestures vaguely at the aforementioned void.

 "That's true," Reggie pipes up. "He's always got a back-up supply!"

 Alex scoffs a little. "Yeah, but he's the only guitarist I know who chews on his picks."

 "Well my soulmate chews on theirs," Julie puts in, "So Luke's not the only one."

 She hears the implement in question clatter to the piano. When she looks at Luke his eyes are wide and a little sad. None of them had really talked about soulmates. She's not sure about the implications that being dead has on finding a soulmate. None of them had found theirs before they died.

 Alex, however. He'd managed to literally run into his soulmate in ghost form, so who knows. She's not sure if there are any rules. Whether both parties have to be dead or if one can be alive.

 (If she's honest with herself, she's spent a fair amount of time thinking about this. Thinking about Luke. She pushes the thought away when it pops up cause it's not possible but it always creeps back in. But they can't even touch so it’s a moot point. That longed-for skin-to-skin contact that bridges the gap between souls remains elusive. The silly daydream of a love-struck girl.)

 ---

 "Julie," Flynn says worriedly as they sidle up to their lockers, "Where's your ring?"

 "My rin-" she lifts her right hand to her face and studies her empty middle finger with distraught consternation. The space where delicate twists of black metal usually sit is bare. "My ring! I - I'm sure I put it on this morning."

 "Yeah, I saw you wearing it," Flynn confirms, her eyebrows furrowing.

 Julie can feel a tide rising in her throat, swelling up behind her eyes, each crash of the sea battering against her ribcage in a heartbeat tattoo.

 A poof to her right interrupts her rising panic. She looks at Luke, eyes wide and watering.

 "Julie! I came to bri- What's wrong?" he cuts himself off when he notices her distress.

 "My ring is gone!" Her voice is tight, as if trapped in her throat.

 Flynn had cottoned on Luke's presence and had begun to move around to where he stands to prevent their peers from thinking Julie's well and truly gone off the deep end. (Julie thinks distantly how grateful she is for such a wonderful friend.)

 Bafflingly, a bright smile splits Luke's face. "This ring?" And pinched between his pointer finger and thumb is Julie's ring.

 Julie's entire body visibly relaxes and it's as if her spine contracts a couple inches, muscles no longer held taut by emotion, the tide pulls out.

 "Where did you find that?" Her voice is practically a whisper now, adrenaline having sapped all energy.

 Luke shrugs nonchalantly. "It was in my pick container for some reason."

 Creases form on Julie's face but she gratefully receives the piece of jewellery. She slips it into its rightful place and when she looks up she realises Luke's eyes have gone wide. Her eyebrows pull up into a question.

 "You -- no, sorry, nevermind." He shakes his head and takes a step back. Julie moves forward a step. Flynn glances around to make sure no one is watching.

 "No, Luke, it's okay. What's wrong?"

 He shakes his head again, eyebrows drawing together and the hint of a smile on his lips. Instead of answering, he reaches his right palm out to touch hers, letting their rings knock together.

 "Oh," Julie breathes. She's not sure how she'd missed it before. Maybe just that it had blended in with all his other rings.

 "Yeah," he says, bashful, "Oh."

 Julie smiles at him and he smiles right back.

 ---

 The Orpheum happens. And the boys are clinging to the last shreds of themselves and she's crying out Go, save yourselves.

 But No music is worth making, Julie, if we're not making it with you.

 And she hugs him. And she can feel him. The places their skin meet spark with some cosmic electricity but there's no time to dwell on it because she has to save Alex and Reggie too.

 It isn't until later, when Reggie exclaims, "Hey, what's that on your back?"

 She twists around, glimpsing the shape of a hand darkening the skin of her lower back. Her head whips around to look at Luke and she notices. "Luke, your shoulder!"

 One hand flies up to his left shoulder, tracing over the darkened patch where Julie's palm had first rested against his skin. Their eyes lock.

 "You're-"

 "We're-"

 She's not sure who's making which language-adjacent sound.

 Alex is looking back and forth between them, a grin pulling across his face while Reggie's mouth hangs open in realisation. But they stay quiet. The see, told you so's will be saved for later.

 Julie starts moving, crossing the room towards Luke. Luke seems to shake out of a stupor, surging towards her as well. They meet in the middle, her arms once again wrapping around his neck in a replay of their earlier embrace. His hands find their spot on her back.

 "It's you, it's really you - " she's babbling. She continues to babble. Luke moves a hand up to smooth back her hair and gently places his lips against her forehead, finally causing her tongue to cease. The touch is so painfully tender it feels like a branding iron against her skin. They stay there for a century or so, just rocking to an inaudible beat, clinging to one another.

 Finally, Luke tucks his chin so that he can rest their foreheads together, breathing the same air.

 "You're amazing, Julie Molina. I would die a thousand times to find you."

 She nods, unable to form words cause, yeah, so would she.

 They pull back and her eyes slide over left arm, landing on the scarf tied there. "My scarf!" She tugs on it a little.

 Luke chuckles, sliding his palm along her jaw. Realisation crosses his face. "Oh, that is my beanie."

 His head whips up and around when loud guffaws break past stifling hands. Alex and Reggie have dissolved into borderline hysterics. He looks back at Julie whose eyes fill with shared mirth. A laugh bubbles up in his own chest, spilling over and out of his mouth.

 And finally, surrounded by Alex and Reggie and Julie, his soul is complete.

[easily-infatuated23]

The Mark of the Angel Part Two: Emergence

Part One

a/n: i’m totally creating my own lore so sorry about that lol also this is in third person now bc it felt better to write so sorry for the grammar change from part one

pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader Angel OC x Amy and Rory

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none

summary: The Doctor is ecstatic to have found the Angel but, have they always known each other? 

The group of friends stared in amazement, but for different reasons. Amy and Rory couldn’t believe the transformation that had occurred right in front of them. This seemingly ordinary girl had suddenly levitated and her skin glowed a brilliant orange color. Now, she still looked slightly ordinary but her aura and attitude had changed completely. The Doctor, on the other hand, was amazed at the discovery of the creature that stood before him. As a boy, he had been told many stories about the Angel. Some came from his family which described a noble being that had saved and practically created the Time Lords, others came from his mates at the academy who told stories of a terrifying creature who would steal your soul. He buzzed with excitement. Even as his hundreds of years of life had passed, he never found a story that rang true or made sense. Now he could know. This is why the TARDIS had brought him here, to learn the secretes of this legendary creature.

Even though thoughts raced wildly through each of the friends heads, none seemed to be able to speak. The Angel surveyed her surroundings. “You know I actually quite fancied this little flat, it might’ve been fun to stick around a bit longer but no matter, there are things to be done”. She looked directly at the Doctor who realized that he was, for the first time in his life, truly at a loss for words. “Doctor, it is very good to see you again, and…. I forgive you”. Amy and Rory turned their heads sharply toward the Doctor, awaiting an explanation. But, none came. Amy grew impatient. “I thought you said you had never met or even seen the Angel before” Amy said, somewhat accusingly. The Doctor barely heard her voice, a darkness swimming in his head as he knew exactly why the Angel said she forgave him. “I suppose there is no harm in sharing now” the Angel began, looking at Amy. “A long time ago I decided I wanted to watch over the Time Lords more closely. That would be easier to do from the inside, not from above. I am very gifted in changing my form, you see, so I would cycle through a new form every couple hundred years or so. Living the life of a Time Lord on Gallifrey, never revealing my true identity. The Doctor and I were friends for a very long time but he still hasn’t figured out who I was then, have you Doctor?” the Angel said, her gaze fixed on the man who was adjusting his bowtie nervously.

His eyes darted from side to side, scanning his brain for all of the faces and names of his friends on Gallifrey, before it was lost. “I will give you a clue” the Angel said. The Doctor looked up at her. She held up her hand, it was balled into a fist with only her pinky finger sticking straight up. “Do you trust me?” she asked. He was stunned and confused. The Doctor had lived for so long that sometimes he was convinced that some things from his childhood were made up. This being one of those things. A memory flashed into his mind of himself as a boy, running around and playing with a little girl. The two would go on “adventures” together. Whenever one of them was hesitant to do something, they would hold up their pinkies and ask the question. He knew the words he had to say next. He stepped forward and interlaced his pinky with hers. “To the ends of the universe” he replied. Another gust of wind blew through the room. This time, the Angel’s appearance changed completely. She looked as if she had become a few years younger, looking more like a teenager now. Her long blonde hair replaced by short curly red hair with light brown freckles peppering her face. Her eyes glowed a fantastic green. She was now wearing red robes instead of the jeans and t-shirt she had previously donned.

“Cora?” the Doctor asked. The Angel smiled and nodded. “Yes. It has been a very long time my friend” she replied in a smooth voice. The Doctor felt his eyes welling up with tears as he pulled the girl into the tightest hug he could manage. Amy and Rory, feeling very left out, simply stood there. Unsure if they should wait in the TARDIS for this odd reunion to conclude or remain standing and watching. “We should probably leave them alone for a minute” Rory said as he opened the doors to the TARDIS. He pulled Amy inside and shut the doors.

The Doctor released her from the hug. He cupped her face. “I thought you were lost or even dead. What happened?” He said, somewhat breathlessly. “There will be plenty of time for you to get the answers you desire but for now, we have more pressing matters” the Angel said. She shook her head back and the physical appearance of ‘Cora’ disappeared and she returned to the form the Doctor had found her in. He tried to hide the awe struck expression on his face but he was unsuccessful. “I like my form as Cora, but I figure this is less distracting for the moment” she said. He nodded. She walked past him and, snapping her fingers, opened the door to the TARDIS. Amy and Rory looked up, expecting to see the Doctor entering. “Can she really do that? I thought only he could” Rory whispered to Amy. She shrugged. As much as she loved Rory, and she really really really loved Rory, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous toward the Angel. Amy had always felt like the Doctor’s special girl, and she wasn’t keen on the idea of sharing that.

The Angel entered the TARDIS and took a deep breath. She traced her hand on the center console. “Hello darling” she said. Amy and Rory looked at each other again. The only person they had seen act like that toward the TARDIS was the Doctor, who at this point looked like he was going to jump out of his skin with excitement. “Is the story about the TARDIS and you true?” he asked, walking closer to the Angel. She chuckled. “Yes, I did give some of my body to create the first TARDIS. After that, they grew all on their own but they are all connected back to me in some way.” The Doctor smiled, his hands on the brink of waving wildly.

“So, how did you find me after all this time? I know you have been on and off of Earth for a long time now. What took so long?” she asked. “Yes, well, I punched in that the TARDIS should take us somewhere I have always wanted to go but never knew I wanted.” “Interesting” the Angel said. “Seeking an unknown destination can be quite dangerous. You two are aware of those risks aren’t you?” She looked up at Amy and Rory. “Oh yeah, we’re aware” Rory said. “Once, the Doctor took us to Venice for a ‘date’ and we ended up having to defeat vampire fish from space” Amy added. The Angel turned to the Doctor. “I like these two” she said. Amy smiled, she was beginning to warm up to the Angel.

“Would you mind if I held your hands for a moment” the Angel said. She walked over to Amy and Rory and held her hands out. They each placed one of their hands into hers. The Angel closed her eyes, her head moving slightly from side to side, as if she was viewing something only she could see, and it was in fast motion. The Doctor moved in, eyes widening. “Doctor what’s she doing?” Amy asked. He walked closer the Angel then pulled out a magnifying glass. He surveyed the Angel’s face and then followed the line of her neck, down to her shoulder, and all the way down her arm. He focused on the top of Amy’s hand then ducked underneath to look at the top of the Angel’s hand. As he did this Amy gasped. The Doctor popped back up and saw what caused Amy to gasp. On the top of her and Rory’s hands was a small spiraling shape resembling a drawing of a sun. The design was glowing with the same hue as the Angel’s regeneration light. The shape was constantly spiraling, never remaining static. “Oh!” the Doctor said slapping his forehead. “She’s gathering all the information she needs about you and the world and the universe through your life experiences. Past, present, and future! This is incredible!” As the Doctor finished speaking, the spirals transformed into the shape of a pair of wings flying before the light poofed in a small cloud of smoke and disappeared from their hands.

“Thank you for that” the Angel said, letting go and opening her eyes. She fixed her gaze on Amy. A small tear dropped from the Angel’s eye as she took a step closer to Amy. “You my dear, are going to have some wonderful adventures.” There was a small awkward silence before the Angel stepped back and looked at the Doctor. “Now, we have an issue to discuss. When I escaped from Gallifrey, an echo went across the universe exposing my actual existence. I came to Earth and became human to avoid detection. I have a feeling that now the echo just repeated itself” “Is that a bad thing?” Amy asked. The Doctor’s face was suddenly pale. He looked at Amy. “We’ve just told the universe that there is an actual god on Earth…” “And people will want me for themselves and to use my powers the way the Time Lords could…” the Angel added. Rory rubbed his face anxiously. “Basically, the biggest bounty in the universe just became active, and people will be coming to collect” the Angel said. This was going to be trouble.

[beatlesqueen1960s1970s]

McLennon: Soulmates❤

@beatles-slash-fiction Here It Is!!

(Soulmate AU where when your soulmate speaks to you for the first time the words appear on their body)

Tw: Homophobia, Slurs, swear words

Paul shifts around in the car as his dad drives them to the beach, they've been in the car for hours now and it's getting uncomfortably cramped in the back with the bags and his younger brother. Mike, his younger brother is bouncing around in his seat touching the words on his arm, "You're pants are on fire" was what Mike's soulmate Jennifer told him a few months ago and Mike couldn't get over the fact that he met his soulmate.

Paul on the other hand felt nervous, he's older far more experienced and he's almost eighteen! And what does he have? Nothing! Why does his baby brother have to find a soulmate before he does? Usually the older sibling would find their mate before the little sibling would, why now was it different?

Paul closes his eyes and pictures his soulmate what she looks like. Beautiful blond hair with beautiful green eyes and adorable splatter of freckles across her nose. She'll have big caring eyes and will be Paul's best friend and his wife. She would be thin and fit perfectly in his arms, she'll love cuddles and kisses. Long walks on the beach and she would be slightly taller than him. His soulmate will wants of dogs mostly little sheep dogs with long fur. And they'll live on a farm far away from his father maybe they'll live in Scotland.

Some days he wished Linda was his soulmate she was the cute girl from his home economics class she was his dream girl but they weren't soulmates. Her soulmate was this nerdy boy named Richie he has a big nose and sad eyes. They are very happy together but Paul keeps longing for her.

They arrive at the beach, "Paul wake up!" Mike screams in Paul's ear disturbing him from his daydream.

"Goddamn it, Micheal." Paul hisses earning a pop in the from their father James,

"You do not use God's name in vain." he reminds them.

They arrive at the beach and James McCartney gets them a nice spot not to close to the water but just right, "Alright, Paul, sunscreen time." James held up the bottle.

Paul huffs and let's his father lather him in the sunscreen all over his body where ever bare skin was it was coated thickly in sunscreen, "Micheal it's your turn." James faces him,

"I want to burn, pa!" Mike yells taking off running,

James sighs, "Paul go get your brother."

"But-"

His father steps forward hand raised, "Did I stutter, James?"

Paul flinches and shakes his head, "Good," his father says, "Now after, Micheal. If he gets the faintest hint of a sunburn you're arse is going to be tanned. Understand?"

Paul nods and runs after him dodging small children and other beach goers. He ducks and dodges the birds. His feet burn with the sand. Paul chases after his brother his fingers so  close to grabbing Mike's yellow swim shorts when Paul accidently steps on John's towel and knocks over John's umbrella. John shouts,  "Hey, dick for brains! Watch it!"

And John watches in horror as the words sprawl across Paul's chest and all Paul can say is, "S-Sorry, sir."

And John can feel the tingling of the words sprawling onto his arm and he knows Paul knows what's on his chest and the only thing he can think of is to ask, "Do you want a drink?" and reaches for a beer in his cooler.

Paul sits down on the towel hugging his knees he accepts the beer, "So?" Paul takes a sip and scrunched his face up at the taste making John chuckle,

"Yeah you have 'dicks for brains' on your chest now.'' John looks down, "Sorry about that. I've been drinking too much."

Paul touches his chest feeling the words warmed by the sun, "My pa's going to freak. He wanted me with a good Christan girl."

John grabs two beach balls that he had and puts them on his chest, "I can be a girl if you want. Look at my big bodonkers."

Paul snorts and hands John back his beer, "So, soulmate?" John looks at him, "How about I buy you down dinner since we're going to be stuck together for life?"

John grins, "Yeah, I would like that."

"Great." Paul stands up and dusts the sand off his shorts, "I'll meet you at Lunar's pier at 6."

John nods, "Okay, dick for brains."

Paul shakes his head rolling his eyes grinning, "And if there's two fellas waiting for you, my name's Paul."

And then he was gone leaving John alone on the beach only the rushing waters was the only thing John hears and the talking of other beach goers, he couldn't wait for his date with Paul.

Paul is shaking when he gets back to his father. Mike has a large bruise on his back from where their father him, "Paul you didn't catch him." James' voice was cold, "Can you do anyth-"

"He found his soulmate!" Mike points out the words on Paul's chest, "Who's the lucky girl?"

James' eyes narrow and he reads the words, ''No girl would have such a foul mouth. Paul is a poof, a nasty little faggot."

Mike gasps and backs up he looks at Paul like Paul's  going to hump him, "I can't believe I let you see me change!"

Paul whimpers this was hurting him, "Mike you're my brother. I can't see you like that. I love you but only like brothers."

"You're disgusting." James growls, "Put a shirt on I'm not letting anyone see that my son is stuck with a faggot."

Paul puts a shirt on and is forced to sit under the umbrella doing nothing if he moves his father hits his back and head. Paul looks at his watch and reads its 5:30PM with James distracted and Mike in the water, Paul flees to Lunar's Pier. He was a disgusting sinful mess, he knew that but at least he had his soulmate.