#decided to separate. just popped right apart. so much water everywhere oh my god.

[mommalosthermind]

What is it about the kids’ winter break that always. Always. Makes the weirdest shit go wrong.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

A Hat in Time au drabble but only dialogue

(Scene is right at the moment Tubbo and Tommy get captured by the two salty ghosts)

Dream: Hahahahahaha! Foooooooo- (*starts violently coughing) Oh god. My throat. How the hell does Wilbur do it?

Tubbo: Are you okay? Do you need some water?

Tommy (quietly): Tubbo he’s literally trying to kill us.

Tubbo (quietly): Yeah but maybe if we’re nice enough he’ll let us go.

Dream: No no I’m good. Give me a second. (*starts clearing his throat) Right. Let’s make this short both for your sakes and my nonexistent throat. You two are right on the area of the SMP forest. And that means, that you’re on my territory.

Dream (threatingly): Do you two know what that means?

(Both boys shake their head)

Dream, smiling menacingly now: It means that-

???: FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!!!!

Dream (under his breath): Oh boy here we go.

Wilbur: YOU TWO BLEW IT! YOU WENT AND ACTUALLY FELL FOR THE TRAP! AND NOW, BECAUSE OF YOUR FOOLISH FOOLISH, ACTIONS YOUR SOULS WILL NOW BE-why the fuck are you here Dream.

Dream: Getting the wanderers obviously. What else?

Wilbur: Well, I’m sorry to say it but you’re going to need to scram. This is my side of the forest, so go away and suck it now. Go on. Shoo.

Dream: Ha. Nice try but if you look around, this is obviously my territory.

Wilbur: Really now? I don’t see the copious amounts of green everywhere. In fact, I don’t even see your minions around here. Not even your dear Gogy.

Dream: Well I don’t hear your obnoxious music playing everywhere and I don’t see YOUR minions here as well. Hell, your “son” isn’t even here, and you know he would do anything to please you. Finally let him down enough times for him to abandon you?

Wilbur: Do NOT talk about Fundy like that. You have no right to talk like that. I mean, we all know that sooner or later, George will eventually decide that you aren’t worth staying awake anymore and will leave you.

Dream: Why you-

(Wilbur and Dream argue)

Tommy: What the fuck is happening. Is...is this a divorce?

Tubbo: I think-I think we should probably leave now.

Tommy: Yeah. We should.

(Wilbur and Dream notice the two kids leaving and does a jump scare on them, prompting the two of them to jump and yelp a bit)

Wilbur: And where do you think you’re going?

Dream: We weren’t done with our little conversation.

Wilbur: And I’m pretty sure I haven’t even started mine yet.

Dream: Right, so as it turns out. We have forgotten to split this land evenly, as surprising as it is.

Tommy (under his breath): How do you even differentiate from them. It’s just forest. It’s just a bunch of weird purple trees everywhere.

Dream: So, we both decide that as a compromise, we’re going to get one of you.

Wilbur: You can always decline of course. Don’t worry.

Tubbo: Oh cool, what’s the catch then?

Wilbur: Smart. The catch is that if you go and leave right now, well. Your free game. We can kill you at any time we want. Anyone can kill you actually. And we won’t do anything about it.

Tommy: More like you don’t want to do anything about it.

Dream: Careful there. We can still kill you right now.

Tommy (angry child vibe): Do it then! Kill me! I’ll fight you! I’ll kill you again! I’ll make you double dead and I’ll stab you in the streets and I’ll shout L at your corpse! L! L! L!

Dream:

Dream: I’m taking the Bee kid. Wilbur, you take the angry child.

Tubbo: You can’t just do this! It’s against the law! (smug voice and smile) And I would know, I’m studying law!

Wilbur(equally as smug): Well it’s a good thing I studied law before dying then!

(Two contracts appear, one in yellow tint, the other in green tint)

Wilbur: Now see here. You don’t have a choice. We let you go now and our minions will go and rip you apart without hesitation. So sign the contracts or die.

Tubbo(nervously): You know, the more you say that, the less of an impact it has on us.

Tommy(equally as nervous): We’ve been threatened with death so many times that it’s normal for us. So maybe you should just go and leave us alone and-

Wilbur and Dream: JUST SIGN THEM ALREADY!

(Both Tommy and Tubbo both rush to sign the contracts. Both are shaking)

Dream: Great. God. That was way too much of a trouble than it should be.

Wilbur: Well maybe that’s because SOMEONE forgot to split the land here!

Dream: Oh shut it Wilbur, come on. Let’s just get our little helpers into our territories and never see each other again.

Tommy: Wait we’re going to be separated!?

Tubbo: We’ll never see each other again!?

Wilbur: What? No. That would mean we’ll have to give you housing and we both don’t have the budget to do that. Only when you’re here you’ll be separated. Now...Tommy right? Here.

(Wilbur shoves Tommy a bunch of mail supplies)

Wilbur: Go and give that to my minions. It helps with the morale and it makes them feel like someone cares for them.

Tubbo: What about me?

Dream: Oh uh...you….

(Dream points Tubbo to the Well)

Dream: You’re going to fix the well. It’s been clogging recently and the giant sentient outhouse doesn’t help things.

Tubbo: Giant sentient what?

Dream: Shut it and just get to work already.

Tubbo: Right right.

Tommy: Righteo. Going to deliver mail now. BYe!

(Both leave. Tommy is going the wrong way...)

Wilbur: Tommy your going the wrong way!

Tommy, turning towards the right way: I knew that!

Dream: ...So how long do you think they’ll last?

Wilbur: Eh. About a week or so before we pop their heads off.

Dream: Do you want to split their souls in half and eat them or do we get one full soul each?

Wilbur: One full soul each. I’m tired of getting halves.

Dream: Good. Now then Wilbur, don’t go to my territory again.

Wilbur: As long as you don’t go to mine.

Dream: Great. We won’t have any problems then.

Wilbur: I hope not.

(Both teleport out into their own territories)

[jilytho]

and they were roomates

Jily/Marauders roomate thing just for fun. Happy Jilytober!!!! 

Read below or on AO3 of FFNT

Moving in together had always been the plan. The Marauders, out in the real world. Throughout Uni they were always forced to split up into different apartments in groups of two, usually ending with Sirius and James in one apartment and Remus and Peter sharing one down the hall. Remus insisted it be that way because he insisted he wouldn’t be able to focus on schoolwork if he had to deal with his idiot of a boyfriend 24hours a day but separate apartments in no way made them spend any less time together. James swears he spent more nights on the floor of Remus and Peter’s kitchen than in his bed. Still, once they were done with school and off in the Real World having an apartment for all of them to live in was the ultimate goal. 

They set out to look for a spot that was nice enough to fit the bizarrely high standards of Sirius, while still not breaking the bank for Remus or Peter who insisted on paying their own way without any help. 

It was Remus who ended up finding their place, somewhat dodgy area of town but right down the street from his favorite Thai takeout place, three coffeeshops with adequate reading vibes within a four block radius, and a seven minute commute for Remus to get to the lab everyday. 14C was a once cute three bedroom apartment now covered in years of dust and grime and now officially theirs.

Sirius and Remus claimed the master with its very own ensuite so James could stop having to pick Sirius’s hair out of the shower. It wasn’t a perfect set up but they all found ways to mesh together and make it just right and just theirs. Peter was immediately made interior designer and found a couch and two armchairs off of craigslist so that they could stop sitting on the floor in front of the TV. James was in charge of the kitchen and bought real utensils and bowls so Sirius would stop pouring his cereal onto frisbees. Remus developed his very own homemade cleaner filled with bleach and alcohol and was likely poison in a bottle but it somehow made the beige counters white and sparkling. 

Technically James and Sirius were the only names actually on the lease, a Sirius suggestion, so that if they were ever late on rent it wouldn’t impact the credit Remus had spent so long building up. It had the added benefit of Peter and Remus not having to worry if their paycheck was being delayed and they had to pay Sirius or James a few days late because the boys were always good for it. 

Being adults in the real world never stopped any of them from still behaving like children. Sirius refused to take out the trash so James took to dumping the trash on his head while he was sleeping, and accidentally got day old noodles onto Remus’ pillow. They broke two TVs during two separate games of indoor football and Peter was a world class baker but was the worst at cleaning in the whole flat and left flour everywhere, constantly. But still, they were happy. They ate dinner together almost every night and had movie nights on Thursdays. Peter and James invested in heavy duty ear plugs within three weeks of moving in and realizing just how thin the walls were. 

After a full year of making Apartment 14C home, the lease was up they unanimously decided to resign because this was their place. But then one day they wake up to find that Pete has his bags packed and is all “I got a job across the country bye”. They want to fight him and Remus, always the logical one, brings up that they literally just signed for a whole year and are only 20 days into this new lease. And Peter, the little slimy rat, smirked and said “Not my name on the lease, not my problem” and just left. 

They learn from Facebook that he was working for some politician that stands for everything the boys do not. The kind of politician who would actively root against the happiness and togetherness of Sirius and Remus. Once they learn that, they are officially done missing him. 

At some time in the middle of the night all the pictures that Peter was in from school are mysteriously replaced with pictures of James’s cat. 

Sirius wants to keep He-Who-We-Do-Not-Talk-About’s bedroom empty and make it into a yoga studio/library combo but Remus says that it's ridiculous to pay that much extra in rent and he refuses to let Sirius pay for the room and so the roommate hunt begins. 

Everyone they met with was either too sweaty or too loud or was great on paper but had a super distinct death like scent so the room sat empty for almost a full month. James was content to let it stay that way and just keep finding reasons because it was good with just the three of them. They weren’t the same and James was sometimes a third wheel but these were his brothers, he didn’t need anyone else. 

It stays empty until one day, Remus comes home from work one day saying that he has a friend from class, a nice well mannered and smart girl who would pay her rent on time but is in urgent need of getting off of her sister and terrible brother in laws couch before she “sets it and the house on fire”. Sirius isn’t sure he wants someone willing to commit arson moving in across the hall from him but a quick look from Remus shut him up and he was suddenly all for the mystery girl coming in. Remus said she would be moving in in three hours and would James be available to help her carry in her bags? James felt slighted that he wasn’t even given a vote or a chance to meet the girl, but that was mostly because despite Peter leaving and betraying them, James is loyal to a fault and still saw the room as Pete’s room and Pete’s stool in the kitchen despite the fact that the lying bastard just took off with no warning and changed his phone number and was a traitorous little bastard. Still, he couldn’t argue the point too much or he’d look stupid so fine, let the new girl move in but “Remus I swear, make it clear that this is just temporary until she figures it out and we find someone else we can all agree on”. He decided he just wouldn’t hang out with the new girl. They’d be apartment mates but they wouldn’t be friends.

She shows up with seven boxes and three bottles of wine to her name. James’s mouth is full of pasta when she introduces herself to him and he is so startled by the green of her eyes that he swallows without chewing and starts hacking noodles up while waving hello as she watches, green eyes wide with concern and amusement, hand still held out to shake. 

The first week after she moves in, he avoids her like the plague. He mentally insists that he has no need to get to know her because this is just temporary and she is going to find a new place and it doesn't matter how green her eyes are if he just doesn’t look at them. 

By the start of the second week, it stopped mattering if he didn’t directly interact with her because she was still everywhere. The living room was transformed from a bare bones TV and couch room to completely cozy with scented candles and fuzzy blankets and fun, colorful throw pillows that James instantly became obsessed with. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love the lemon scented soap in the kitchen or how she always made sure there was coffee in the pot for him or how the scent of her rose body wash somehow fills the whole apartment everytime she showers and is amazing or how the whole apartment just felt warmer and better now that she was there. 

He stopped getting surprised when she found ways to just fit with them. He always thought Peter worked well with them, they were brothers of course, but now he couldn’t help feeling like Peter had been a square peg squeezing into a circle hole. He fit but it was also just a little tight or tense or unequal. Lily, on the other hand, clicked in just right. She was instantly just one of them, even before James had accepted it. On her 10th day of living with them (a celebration Sirius insisted required an ice cream cake) all reservations about her completely imploded because there was no arguing that she belonged with them and they belonged with her. When he woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, he wasn’t at all shocked to find her and Remus reviewing chemical formulas at 3am on a Tuesday. Like of course they were, why wouldn't they be. It felt even less surprising that he just walked himself over and sat on the ground in front of her and stole her flashcards so he could quiz them both. It felt only natural when he saw her and Sirius getting ready to go to spin class together, even though Sirius never brings James to spin class with him anymore because of the one time he fell off his bike and caused a ruckus. He’s barely even confused when he ends up at a sunrise yoga class with her even though he had never been awake to see sunrise a day in his life. He’s even less surprised to learn that he enjoyed it immensely and had never been so happy to be up that early. He tells himself that it's just the impact of the yoga that he is in such a good mood but knows it has a lot more to do with the laughing goddess in the downward dog next to him. 

They get glared at all through the class because he keeps whispering things to her and making her giggle and then he becomes so transfixed by her laugh that he loses his balance and falls out of his pose, almost toppling the woman next to him. She laughs so hard her face matches her hair and giggles every time she looks at him for the rest of class. 

And then it’s Sunday and Blokes Brunch easily becomes “Lily, let’s go time for brunch” and when she pops the champagne (which had always been James’s job but he couldn't’ even fight her properly for it) he sees the sparkle in her eyes so much clearer than the sparkle in the drink and he lets himself actually see her and oh my god did she look good.

It still hurts when they see a picture of Peter on facebook or in Snapchat memories but slowly their memories start to fill up with green eyes and red hair and lovely smiles. It is no surprise when just the suggestion of her moving out became criminal. It was no surprise to any of them except for James when she stopped sleeping in her room and started sleeping across the hall with James. None of it was how the Marauders expected their lives to be at all but there was also more joy and warmth and love than any of them could have ever predicted. 

[msjr0119]

Hold On

Part 25 - A premature arrival

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut🍋 If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs

******

“So after brunch, I assume the King and Queen will want some aloneeee time.... But who’s ready for the real party? As it’s a Beaumont wedding- well sort of. You’re all invited to the after party at House Beaumont later tonight, to celebrate our sister getting married!”

Riley and Liam couldn’t wait to go and spend time alone together- with no distractions. They were now officially married. Discreetly they sneaked off up to their Chambers- informing Maxwell that they wouldn’t be attending the Beaumont bash, as they wanted their wedding day/night to be just the three of them. Maxwell was dramatically upset at first- but explained that they would all celebrate anyway.

Carrying his Queen over the threshold, Liam gently placed his wife on the leather couch. Pouring her a glass of water, he couldn’t take his eyes of her- he was in awe of her. The beauty radiating around her.

“I love you Queen Riley of Cordonia.”

Riley hearing these words still sounded so surreal.

“I love you too, King Liam of Cordonia. Who’d have thought that we’d have ended up here?”

“Not me for sure. I’m glad to have you back in my arms. The time apart from each other was torture. I’m going to love you both for as long as I live. How about a little siesta before we have something to eat?” The king smirked at his Queen, with passion and desire in his eyes.

“Siesta? Is that what they call it now your Majesty?” Oh god he’s so sexy with that smirk- I know exactly what you mean Liam.

“Of course. But I can’t promise that I won’t be able to keep my hands off of my gorgeous wife.”

*****

7 Months after Liam and Riley’s wedding ceremony.

Riley was now glowing at 37 weeks pregnant. Hoping that these next three weeks go quick, as everywhere she turned the little princess would knock everything and anything over. Getting frustrated with waddling anywhere she really wanted to invest in a mobility scooter- I am Queen, they may get me one if I ask nicely.

Liam had left Cordonia for two days of meetings in Greece the prior day. He didn’t want to leave her, but she promised to FaceTime him constantly over the two days to prove she was fine. Last night, she placed the phone to her bump so Liam could speak to his daughter. His daughter was doing backflips in Riley’s stomach responding to her daddy’s voice- he couldn’t contain the smile on his face. He was desperate to return home to his wife.

At brunch, Riley had experienced a shooting pain. She just ignored it as the Doctor said she would be expecting braxton hicks throughout the last few weeks of pregnancy. Olivia had noticed the colour drain from her face- and immediately excused herself from the table to find Leo.

“Leo, I know she’s not due to pop that thing out yet. But she doesn’t look well. I don’t want to worry her or Liam but I think the little princess is eager to make appearance.”

Leo looked over towards Riley- Olivia was talking sense, she didn’t look her usual self and she kept holding her stomach every ten minutes. Shit!

“Liv that ‘thing’ is my niece. I need to get Liam back. Try ringing Bastien and I will contact Liam.”

*****

Riley jolted up from her seat knocking champagne and food all over Drake and Hana. The married couple looked at each other concerned, as they stood up clearing the mess that Riley had caused.

“Shit!” Riley screamed in excruciating pain- holding her stomach protectively.

“Brooks? What’s up? Are you okay?”

Riley pulled Drake towards her- gritting her teeth she was tugging on his infamous denim jacket. He looked over towards his wife Hana for reassurance that Riley wasn’t going to potentially throttle him.

“Do I fucking look all right Drake... the fucking baby is coming.... It’s too early... get your best friend back here now!”

Drake stood frozen, before trying to unloosen her tight grip she had on him. His feet suddenly became damp- much to his annoyance. He assumed she had leaked a little accident due to the baby kicking her in the bladder too much.

“Brooks...Why are my feet wet? Have you pissed yourself? You need to let me go so I can ring Li.”

“My waters broke you fucking dipshit!”

Riley fell to the floor, Hana tried to comfort her, speaking softly towards her. Telling her to breathe. Drake attempted ringing Liam up, shaking at the reality the heir was about to be born- fucking pick up your Majesty!

*****

“Liam!” For god sake Leo, I’ve been gone one day- What catastrophes have you caused already? Frustrated with his older brother, he just sighed regretting answering the phone.

“Leo. What’s up I’m in a meeting!”

“Liam fuck the meeting! Your daughter is making an early appearance! You need to get back now”

“Fuck! Look after her Leo, I’m leaving now.”

Liam ran to Bastien, I’m going to be a father today- Riley’s in labour. Get the jet ready ASAP! Quickly explain to everyone for me what has happened and send my apologies.

*****

Leo ran into the room, Hana had placed a cold compress on Riley’s head, and Drake looked in pain- Riley was practically breaking his hand- his grimace pleaded with Leo to take over. Man up Walker, let a real man help- Leo muttered as he shook his head at Drake.

“Ri. You’re doing great. But we need to get you to hospital. Liam is on his way back.” He said calmly holding her hands, his eyes fixated on her.

“It’s too early Leo...” she cried inbetween screaming.

Leo picked Riley up, cradling her in his arms he carried her to the SUV that was waiting for them. Hana grabbed Riley’s hospital bag from their chambers, quickly making sure everything was in- she was excited and nervous for her friend.

“Good luck Ri. We can’t wait to meet our niece. We will all meet you at the hospital. Love you.”

****

Arriving at the hospital, Leo was blinded by all the flashes in front of the car. The press were camping outside the hospital grounds, how they found out Leo didn’t know. He was furious. He demanded that the royal guards find another discreet way into the hospital. Riley looked exhausted already, he was hoping Liam would get here as soon as possible- to be the strength she required to get through it. Leo carried her into the private room, he didn’t want to waste time in waiting for the staff to get her a wheelchair. Placing his sister in law gently on the bed, he asked if she needed anything. I need Liam more now than ever. Leo’s heart sunk- he felt guilty for abdicating especially now in this situation. He wished that a bit of his bad influence had rubbed off onto Liam and for Liam to refuse his duties for once in his life. If Liam missed the birth of his first born, it would all be Leo’s fault. Right now he needed to stay strong for Riley.

“Your majesty, you are about 6cm dilated.”

6cm- that’s good. Hopefully it’ll go slow, give Liam time to arrive, Leo thought. Riley held onto her brother in law for dear life. He didn’t know what to do. She was swearing, she was in pain. At every contraction she would inhale the gas and air- it was taking the edge off the pain rather than blocking it. Even though she was feeling lightheaded - Leo was so proud at how she was coping. He now knew how Drake must of felt because she was making his hand turn blue. Did he care? No. She was providing him with a beautiful niece and an heir to the throne.

****

It had been three hours since they had arrived at the hospital. Liam was still nowhere to be seen. In the back of Leo’s mind, he was furious that Liam had to go for meetings in another country weeks before the birth of his first child, he couldn’t shake this constant thought away. He was knocked out of his trance when he heard a defeated Riley try to talk to him.

“Leo, I can’t .... I can’t do this.”

“Riley you are doing brilliantly. Liam will be here soon....”

Before he could continue the doors swung open, Liam ran upto Riley, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead- holding her clammy hand, he was trying to control his breathing after running into the private wing.

“Thanks Leo. Riley I’m so sorry I knew I shouldn’t have left you.”

“You son of a bitch! You are coming nowhere near me again... I’d have committed treason if you didn’t arrive in time....”

The two brothers looked at each other with worried looks - both gulping. Leo decided to leave them to it. His hand needed a break- and he didn’t want to be in the firing line of Riley’s aggressive insults.

“Riley. I’m here now. I love you.”

“I’m sorry for.... for... calling you that... I love you too my king. Arghhh.”

*****

“You’re majesty, one last push. I can see the baby’s head. Just one more, I promise.”

Riley was lacking energy, she was uncontrollably sweaty, out of breath. Liam had been supporting her as best as he could and she was grateful. One more push and she would be holding her daughter in her arms.

After one excruciating long push, the room was filled with tiny cries, Riley flung her head back- as the midwife weighed the baby. Relieved that it was finally over, she gave her husband a stern warning.

“Liam, I swear to god. You do not touch me ever again. I’m not going through this again.” Liam shook his head, ignoring her as he fixated his gaze on his daughter. Kissing and hugging his Queen, he was so utterly proud of her. Tears ran down his cheek, he didn’t care- he was overwhelmed with the view in front of him.

“Riley, she’s absolutely beautiful. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.”

The midwife brought the princess over to them, she weighed 6lb 9oz. She had sparkling baby blues like both her parents that kept fluttering open every so often accompanied by a jet black head full of hair. Riley laid her on her chest- having that mother/daughter skin to skin bond. All the pain she had disappeared as if it never existed. Stroking her daughters cheek, she had fallen in love instantly.

“Hello, my little girl. You have given us all a shock. I think Uncle Leo and Uncle Drake have both received broken hands because of your premature arrival. But I’m sure they’ll both forgive you. You are beautiful.”

Riley placed a kiss on the newborns head, Liam was just in awe seeing his two girls together for the first time. Grateful that he was able to make it in time. Liam held his daughters tiny fragile hand, she wrapped her hand around her father’s finger.

“She’s already wrapped around your little finger Li.”

“Riley, she’s... she’s a mini you. She’s beautiful. Daddy loves you so much our little miracle, our princess. You have completed our family. Daddy’s little girl.”

Riley smiled at Liam’s affectionate emotions towards their daughter. Moving up the bed so Liam could join them, the three of them snuggled close together. After all the shit they had been through, fate brought Riley and Liam back together and they had finally become a family.

The King and Queen Of Cordonia, would like to announce the birth of Her royal Highness Princess Ayah Rhys of Cordonia.

Weighing 6lb 9oz... born at 3.57pm.

We would like to congratulate the couple on this fantastic news. And we look forward to officially meeting our princess.

Ana De Luca - The trend

[scintillating-galaxias]

give ‘em hell, darling

Chapter Three—Step 2

Uriel makes an example out of Aziraphale.

CW for descriptions of body horror. (Read it here on ao3!)

Aziraphale had forgotten how absolutely clinical Heaven was.

The air had a sterile tastelessness to it that laid heavy on his tongue. Everything was an inoffensive gray, white, or beige, or possibly a daring khaki. Every building was made of polished and unblemished marble and cut perfectly into either cubes or a strange design that, in the human world, would be called ‘modern art’ and then be scoffed at for being labeled as such. There were no decorations to be found. Fountains of holy water and nature were the only exceptions and both were native only to the living quarters of the good human souls that had made it up here. The angelic HQ had no need for such lavacious things. 

Crowley was right about the smell of bleach. Aziraphale hadn’t noticed it before, but it was everywhere, soaking into the cold, cold stone and purging any disease from its purity. It stung his nose and reminded him of the ghastly stories of hospitals that took patients in with no intention of allowing them to leave again. It made him yearn for the metallic smell of rain, the belching fumes of gasoline, the rich, the faintly sweet smell of his leather-bound books, oh his books. He missed them dearly. He missed Earth dearly. And he had only been here for a couple of minutes.

Aziraphale was beginning to feel that he had made a mistake turning himself in so easily. 

He shifted his wrists beneath his tightly bound cuffs. Upon Aziraphale’s arrival, Uriel had bound them and his wings as well so that if he tried to go back down to Earth, he would fall and reach terminal velocity before becoming angelic paste on the pavement. He didn’t use his wings to literally fly from Earth to Heaven or vice versa, but he required their Holy presence to properly go to and from the two places. That being said, he had an extremely painful cramp that was seizing up his entire left side, and he very much doubted he could convince Uriel to loosen the cuffs on his wings so that he may stretch them out.

Speaking of Uriel. That was a rather wicked looking dagger they had.

“What is it?” Their face was a perfectly cut mask of cool indifference, as per usual. But something about it looked pleased at Aziraphale’s discomfort.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” Aziraphale said quickly. He glanced away, warily watching the dagger out of the corner of his eye. It was made of some pulsating purple-black material that hissed and bubbled and dripped with something that clearly disagreed with being in such a holy space. He could feel its tarlike aura molding itself onto his, trying to capture as much as it could before drowning it. It made him feel a bit nauseous. It was a mystery how Uriel could hold it at all, even with the glove.

Aziraphale tensed and untensed his arms, trying to relieve some of the pain. “Erm,” he said awkwardly. “That’s a fascinating... knife you’ve got there. Is it new?”

Uriel hardly spared him a glance. “It was specially commissioned from the Hell Forge just for you.”

“I-I see.” Aziraphale swallowed and inched further away from the blade. It appeared Crowley had been correct. Again. Aziraphale should really start to heed his cautiousness more often. You’d think he’d be a little less uppity about it, especially after six thousand years. He bit his lip and hoped Crowley was doing alright without him. 

He tried to distract himself by flicking his eyes to a familiar cityscape. He took in skyscrapers and apartment complexes gleaming in the too-bright sunshine. They stretched their bony structures and scraped an ivory intrusion against the pure blue sky, punctuated by painting-like clouds. Rain was a rarity, yet a rainbow arched gracefully above it all, its colors bold and bright in a way they never would be on Earth. This felt incredibly ironic to Aziraphale. The rainbow had been made for humans after the Almighty had demolished the entire population of Mesopotamia and then some. It was a gift, a promise, to never let it happen again. Shouldn’t that have been proof enough that the whole Written Plan about the Apocalypse was a load of old tosh? Humanity was not meant to come to an End. And here was Heaven using Her promise as a minute detail to a perfect picture.

Aziraphale felt a venomous critter of disgust creep through him. He smiled thinly. “Lucky me.”

“Yes. Lucky you.”

He decided Heaven’s imitation of Earth’s atmosphere was not for him. He focused instead on the floating Globe lazily spinning in the middle of the floor. It felt like yesterday that he was being berated by the Quartermaster as he dipped his finger into the little brown-green patch that was England. He desperately wanted to relive that moment right now. In fact, his finger actually twitched in a desperate attempt to flee, despite being fully aware of what would happen if he did.

He wondered what was going to happen if he didn’t. They’d been standing here for a good ten minutes now and had not moved. “Pardon me, but could you perhaps enlighten me of my fate?” he said, allowing a bit of a plea to slip into his voice. “I am your prisoner. I’d like to think I have a right to know.”

“You’d be wrong.”

Well then. So much for that. Aziraphale pressed his lips together and nodded. Questions still bounced uselessly around his head like the balls inside of a bingo wheel. He picked whichever one popped out first. “What is it that we’re waiting for?”

Uriel finally looked at him, but he almost wished they hadn’t. “Your cell is being prepared. You need to stop asking questions.”

Heaven has a prison? thought Aziraphale. What was the point of that? Why would anyone need to be punished if they, with himself and his Fallen brethren as the exceptions, could do no wrong? Perhaps humans could still be a bit rowdy.  

Or maybe they merely made one just for him. They made a dagger just for him. A room didn’t feel like that large of a stretch. 

Uriel’s chin came up slightly as though they were listening to something. Aziraphale turned his head about, but didn’t see anyone, until he noticed the earpiece place snugly on Uriel’s head. They were silent for a few more seconds. Then they brought a finger to their ear and said, “We’re on our way.” Then, to Aziraphale, “Follow me.”

“Wh—I demand you tell me where we’re going first!”

Uriel barked out a wrathfully amused laugh. “You’re in no position to be making demands. Come.”

They began to walk away. Aziraphale followed them after a hesitant moment.

Together they went down stairwell after stairwell, through hallway after hallway. Every place was strangely devoid of life. Aziraphale peered into offices as they passed by—not a single soul. No one at the desks, no one bustling back and forth with a clipboard, not even a single friendly conversation. The only sounds were the colliding echoes of their footsteps: Uriel’s, firm thuds from the heel of their boots, Aziraphale’s gentler shuffles from his loafers. Apprehension and curiosity began to struggle beneath his skin, straining for answers. He swallowed them down and tred on.

They finally made it to the first floor after what was paradoxically a short eternity and thirty seconds. Uriel went straight for the sliding doors without a single glance back. Either they were confident Aziraphale would not make a harebrained escape attempt, or—no, Uriel was quick as a whip, and could be as dangerous as one, too. Especially with that dagger. Aziraphale wouldn’t be going anywhere. He trudged after Uriel, trying to keep his gaze from drooping to the ground for too long. They went through the sliding doors and Aziraphale—

Aziraphale… stopped.

Because before them, stretching for miles and miles and miles, were millions of angels. The ground and sky were swallowed up by grey suits, white dressed, five thousand all-seeing eyes staring in directions that could never be named. A cacophonous mix of true forms melding around corporeal forms lit up space in impossible colors and shapes. Heat and cold lived as one, light and dark, unified and separate. All types of heavenly creatures from raging seraphim whose being swelled and engulfed everything in a five hundred meter radius to a ninth rank angel who was dwarfed in comparison and everything in-between was there. 

And every single one was staring at Aziraphale. 

Stupefied, he could only manage, “So that’s where everyone went.”

The front of the crowd swelled towards him at his words, taking him in, picking him apart, like a greedy ocean tide lapping at the soles of his feet.

“That’s the traitor?” murmured a Throne. “He doesn’t look it.”

A buzz of agreement rose and fell. Some were even dubiously daring to dart their gaze back and forth between him and Uriel. He could feel it too—the strange mix of righteous anger and unyielding love, yet doubt was melting holes into that steely resolve. Aziraphale coaxed a weak smile to his face. Perhaps—perhaps Heaven had some hope.

“Shut it,” snapped Uriel. Evidently, they were not pleased with the reaction. “Don’t you feel it? This is who sabotaged the Great Plan. This is who turned God’s Will into something of his own creation.”

A few Powers shared a glance. “Do you… want an answer?” said one, very carefully avoiding the word “honesty.”

A nearby Cherub bristled, its interlocking wheels made up of nonexistent planes of existence spinning faster in agitation. This is who renounced God’s will, it howled, their celestial voice resonating from every atom and screaming into every angel’s head, this is who twisted the Great Plan and put Her plans to ruin! This is he who turns his back on the Almighty!

And just like that, the crowd shrank away from Aziraphale, hissing like water on a burning skillet. Uriel smirked and strode into the crowd. It slowly parted around Uriel at first, but as Aziraphale reluctantly went to follow, it shot away as if he were poison. Which, if Heavenly propaganda was up to its old standards, he may as well be.

“There is hope for you yet!” shouted a fellow Principality as he passed. “Renounce, and God’s Love will shine on you once again!”

Aziraphale cringed but did not allow his head to bow in shame. He resolutely kept his eyes up. They couldn’t possibly know what had really happened on Earth. They couldn’t possibly really know Earth. Humanity. He could forgive them.

“Look upon the grayness to his being? He has been tempted to Sin by that demon! Oh, for shame, for shame!”

They didn’t know what a wonderful creature Crowley was. He could forgive them.

“Save him, save him!”

They didn’t know.

“O Lord, bestow upon your lost child the sight to see what is good and just once again…”

He could forgive them.

Aziraphale walked on, and on, and on, walked on through the jeers, walked on through the judging glares, walked on through the tears. The anger was overwhelming him, but he couldn’t tell if it was his own, or simply what he was absorbing from twenty million angels. The tide returned and snared his ankles. It felt like drowning in a boiling sea. Foaming waves dragged his struggling body away from the safety of the shore, tossing him out to churning open water and plunging him deep, deep down into seething depths. Reaching for air wasn’t possible—it was burning too. It forced its way into his mouth and began to broil his insides, setting his very heart aflame. His skin blistered and popped, liquified salt poured into his wounds before he could heal again, taking him apart one quark at a time, until—

“All I have done!” roared Aziraphale, his cuffs humming as they strained to keep his wings from flaring out. The tears on his face steamed up as soon as they touched his flesh. “All I have done is love humanity just as She commanded me!”

Uriel spun around, an ugly rage marring their face. “You went against Her Written Plan!” they bellowed back, dagger jabbing closer to him with each word. “Did She not command that, too?”

“It never was Her Ineffable Plan!”

A collective gasp went up. Heaving, Aziraphale spat, “Or did Gabriel fail to mention that, too?”

The jury of Heaven fell completely silent. Uriel worked their mouth. Aziraphale closed his eyes and desperately tried to control the solar flares leaping from his body. When he reopened his eyes, it was to the sound of Uriel stalking forward, taking Aziraphale by the front of his shirt, and hissing, “We’re going.”

And then they were in a new room. The audience had vanished but their voices echoed again and again. Aziraphale wrenched himself away from Uriel and stumbled back. In the same instant, Uriel disappeared again, leaving him alone.

Like most of Heaven, the room was composed of white. The only color was the golden sigils engraved into the marble walls and himself. He noted with some hysterical despair that the room had nothing in it to fill the space—no beds, no tables, no windows, not even a chair. And, like most of Heaven, it was very cold.

There were no such things as shadows here, no creases in the corners to indicate there even was a corner. He could not tell when one wall ended until another one began. It all stretched into an everlasting white expanse wherever the golden sigils were not present. He sighed; the sound barely made it off his lips before it fell dead. The gazes of the sigils bore down on him, waiting to see what he would do. He closed his eyes against them; they felt too much like what amalgamation waited for him outside.

Quietly, Aziraphale knew this would not last. He remembered the first few angelic beings who doubted his crime. There must be more beyond them. The Cherub had gotten everyone riled up, Aziraphale included. That was simply how Cherubs were. He had seen Uriel’s face when they did not immediately denounce him; clearly, something was incorrect about how they thought Heaven really was. He swiped away another tear and struggled to steady himself with one, two, three shaking breaths. Under better circumstances, perhaps they would have listened. 

There was hope yet. He was not alone. He firmly held on to that thought as he knelt down and wept.

[elreyconducto]

Powers and Food Don’t Mix: Part III--Neon Should Have Been a No-No

Disclaimer: I do not own Second Son

Rating: T

Pairing: Delgenetch

Words: 3106

Warning: language

Summary:  Last part of the "Powers and Food Don't Mix" mini-series. Time to see what shenanigans Fetch will get up to.

Happy 2019 everyone! Hope the new year brings you all the best! I’ve been writing this chapter on-off in like 3-minute intervals between classes since November. If it seems a bit choppy, that’s why.

(AO3 Link) || (FF.Net Link)

 Powers and Food Don’t Mix Part III: Neon Should Have Been a No-No

     April showers bring May flowers, so the saying went.

     Fetch wanted to punch whoever came up with that stupid line, because it was May and God seemed to have decided to flood all of Seattle with rain all this month so far. The streets constantly had an inch or two of water rushing down them, there were worms everywhere on the sidewalks, and the mosquitoes seemed to be achieving plague-levels more suited for the Bible. Just the thought of the mess that was outside made the mosquito bites on her body itch with an intense fervor. As she scratched her freckled legs, folded just under her on the couch, she looked out the window at the downpour outside. As much as she wanted to go outside, breathe some fresh air, and speed over buildings with a neon trail behind her, she knew she really shouldn’t be out if she didn’t have to. The neon inside her wanted a release, and she could only draw but so many neon doodles in the air.  

     Despite that, she pitied anyone who had to be out right now in this clusterfuck called weather.

     Which meant she pitied Delsin and Eugene.

     The three had run out of most of the food in their fridge and some of the various medications that they needed. Their non-perishable food had only lasted them but so long—plus, all of them had begun to complain about eating ramen and canned chicken like eight days in a row—and they had forgotten to call for refills for their meds before the storm had started—several long nights smothering DUP uprisings throughout the city left their minds very preoccupied.

     Adulting was hard, dammit.

     Before the suggestion of rock-paper-scissors could have popped up about who would be the poor bastard to brave the weather, Eugene of all people had volunteered himself, much to Fetch and Delsin’s surprise. He had said explained to them, through an embarrassed stutter and hands fiddling with his hoodie sleeves, that he had been working with his therapist with his social anxiety and he wanted to try shopping out in public. ‘The weather will keep most people inside, so the pharmacy shouldn’t have many people at all,’ he had said.

     And, as proud of her anxiety-ridden boyfriend as she was, she had immediately protested it, claiming that he’d probably drown as soon as he stepped out of the apartment.

     She was met with a, ‘W-Well, that’s why I’m bringing Delsin with me, of course.’

     ‘Wait, I am?’

     ‘Of course you are.’

     And so here she was. On the couch. By herself. Thank goodness the power hadn’t gone out, otherwise she might just launch herself out the window just to achieve some sort of relief from the boredom that was plaguing her. Before she could entertain that train of thought any further, the rumbling in her stomach reminded her that her body actually needed food and couldn’t survive off of monotony and rain.

     She shuffled to the kitchen, her fuzzy socks allowing an even glide against the tiled floor, and peeked into the fridge. The pitiful show of food that they have left were a few eggs, a little bit of milk, and half a stick of butter. Oh, and some various condiments. Her lips pursed of their own accord and she had to refrain from glaring at the butter like it offended her.

     What the hell am I going to make with this?

     Fetch took a moment to think before peering over her shoulder, scouting the area is if someone was spying on here. She knew she was the only one here, but she just couldn’t risk it…With a jut of her hip, she swung her body into a smooth glide across the kitchen to the pantry, stopping with a jazzy twirl. If Delsin or Eugene caught her moving like she was in a musical, she would never hear the end of it. But hey, what the hell. A quick check of the pantry was a sad result just like the fridge, nothing much except for a box of pancake mix, about two packs of ramen, and more canned chicken. At this point, all the canned chicken was going to make her scream.

     I can probably do pancakes, she thought as she snatched the box from the cupboard. There’s just enough for all of us, and pancakes are one of Gene’s faves. I wanna make him something nice after that cake-angel debacle. She laughed to herself. Even if it was months ago, I think he’ll like this.

     That in mind, she set a skillet on the stove to heat as she began mixing the ingredients in their one, yes one, mixing bowl. Once the pancake mix was to a pretty good consistency, she flicked some butter in the pan to get it slick and then poured some of the batter in the pan. Immediately, the warm scent of butter and breakfast cake wafted into the kitchen.

     A feeling of nostalgic warmth curled inside of her.

     For a moment, she was reminded of lazy Sunday mornings when Brent had looked after her when they were younger, much younger. When their parents had been off doing—well, she actually couldn’t remember now—stuff, Brent had always looked after her. Sunday mornings had meant sleeping in and fun pajamas, hers being a floppy shirt and pants of matching cat patterns while Brent’s had been simple black fleece pants combined with some band shirt. Some mornings had seen the rise and fall of the two separate Great Walker Armies, one general’s weapon of choice being pancake flour while the other’s trump card being eggs. Other mornings had been quiet, tame. ‘Come here and let my get you, you little punk!’ Brent would heckle at her as she ducked behind a counter. ‘You and that hair of yours makes you look like a punk!’ she would aim right back. As fun as the food fights had been, Fetch’s favorite had always been the quiet mornings—the lull, the easy state of just being, where nothing else mattered. The last day she had spent in that house had started with one of those lazy Sunday mornings…

     The rising steam tickling her nose brought her attention to the pancake she needed to flip.

     Her wrist-flick to turn the pancake was quick. Her sigh, much less so.

     The warmth that the memory brought her was an old, threadbare blanket of her childhood, but the warmth that radiated around her here in this kitchen was a fresh thick quilt pulled straight from the dryer. Encompassing, cozy, and here.

     One pancake out of the heat and batter in.

     Here was this kitchen, here, where she lived with Delsin and Eugene. Here was good and now and rain and pancakes. Most importantly, here meant that she was safe.

     Two more pancakes done. More batter into the pan.

     If she had the ability to zip into the past and tell her younger self that this is what her life would be like, there was a certainty that her younger self would not have believed her. Life with no Brent? Not possible. Living with people that didn’t care she had…abilities? Well, she thought her parents wouldn’t mind and look where that landed her and Brent. Living with two men who loved her and would do anything for her? That would not have even been a possibility in her mind. Being happy without constantly thinking about what was going to happen to her? Younger Abigail would not have been able to come up with an answer.

     Pancake out, batter in. Flip, wait. Pancake out, more batter in.

     Fetch thought hard about where she was in her life today. Thought about her boyfriends, about Delsin and Eugene. My boys, she thought as her lips crooned into a smile. Those two were such idiots sometimes, as most guys were, but she wouldn’t trade them for anything. Delsin with his stupidly handsome face and nice hair and good heart and love for his tribe and family and amazing art skills, and Eugene with his adorable dorkiness and his constant battle with his anxiety and his particular knowledge of video games and his cute everything. My boys.

     More pancakes into the plate to join their buttery buddies.

     Rain beat against the windows like an army of furious drummers. Delsin and Eugene should have been back by now—the fact that they weren’t was beginning to make her worry.

     Not that she would admit it.  

     Just as she was debating on calling them, a loud thump against the door made her startle and almost drop the plate of finished pancakes she was holding. The plate was deposited on the table, and without conscious thought, a small charge of hot neon collected in the palm of her hand.

     “Delsin, hurry! The bags are about to slip out of my hands!”

     Another thump and a jangle of keys, then a swear. “Wait, wait, aaaand okay!” The lock clicked. “Finally got the right one.”

     Fetch let out a relieved sigh, slumping against the counter. The neon in her palm dissipated into pink and purple vapors. Hearing the two voices she was intimately familiar with was like a balm that eased the sudden tension that had collected in her arms and shoulders. With the three of them being high-profile conduits, they could never be too careful with how the DUP just wouldn’t disappear. Too many close calls…

     First came in Delsin—it took all of Fetch’s will not to burst out laughing—looking like he drowned in a river. His beanie was so weighed down with water than he had to keep adjusting his eyebrows so the bottom of it would stop falling in his eyes. Bending over to set down the groceries, his rain jacket appeared to vomit the water that was left on it on the floor. His jeans were no better, looking like a second skin. (Not that she was complaining.)

     Next was Eugene, not looking better in any way, shape, or form. The poor water-logged angel looked so uncomfortable that Fetch just wanted to give him a hug. He looked only marginally better after setting down the groceries he was carrying. Despite that, from the way he was wincing every time he took his step—and from the distinct squish she kept hearing—Fetch was sure that he had his own personal pond in each of his boots.

    “Sorry about the mess, Fetch,” Eugene looked sheepish as he wrenched off his rain boots with only minor difficulty. “It’s, ahh, such a disaster out there, you know? And we just wanted to, uh, just hurry up and get home.”  

     Any other day, she would be cross at them for all the water all over the floor, but given the utter mess that was outside, it wasn’t a big deal. At least it’s not mud, she thought.

     “No biggie,” she said as she grabbed the groceries to start putting them away. “It’s biblical outside, Genie, so I’d be more surprised if you two didn’t come home looking like two Aquamen.” (1)

     Delsin took this as an opportunity to add, “I don’t know, Fetch,” he grinned as he poked Eugene’s bicep, “our angel’s been getting pretty fit here. These arms of steel weren’t here last time we checked.”

     The blush she caught on her skinny boyfriend’s face before he ducked his head, along with his shy giggle, made her smile. After being with her and Delsin for so long, Eugene had expressed a desire to work on his body. Although still quite thin, light jogging and some basic exercises a few times a week had begun improving his body tone. Being compared to such a fit superhero made the gamer acknowledge his own hard work and progress.    

     “Y-You guys are too much,” was all he could say.

    Fetch hummed, throwing a pointed glance to the kitchen. “Weeell, I guess if I’m just too much, then I probably shouldn’t share these pancakes I made, should I?”

    As soon as the word ‘pancakes’ was uttered, a blonde head snapped to attention as its owner shuffled in placed like an excited kid. “Wait, wait, wait!” He cleared his throat, trying not to look as excited as he felt. “I mean, you don’t, you know, have to just take them a-all for yourself. Yeah, we, uh, D-Delsin! Delsin and I are, are more than willing to share. Right, Delsin?”

     “Oh yeah, more than willing,” he humored Eugene. Only way to get their introvert this excited was videogames and good food. The option for right now was good food.

     She snorted. “Go get dried off, you two. We can clean up the water after we eat.”

     With that, her two boys scurried off faster than she thought was necessary, but hey, food made almost anyone get their asses in gear. Once she heard the rattle of the shower pipes kick themselves alive, she meandered back into the kitchen to the buttery stack of goodness. The more she stared at the food, the more she thought it needed something. Just something. The restlessness that had been present for a while made a comeback, neon practically squirming underneath her skin to get out—and that’s when she realized what it needed.

     A quick look over her shoulder and she channeled her energy into her fingertips. If anyone else were present, they would have probably warned her against what she was about to do, especially considering the evidence of the last two incidents. But, hell, she wasn’t just anyone. Unlike Tweedledee and Tweedledum with their energy all over the place, she was a sniper. She was precise, exact, and could do exactly what she needed to do.

     No more, no less.

     The release of energy from her fingertips felt wonderful, even if it wasn’t as much as her body needed. What she needed was a long circuit around the city, zipping around buildings and highways, but it was satisfactory. A curve here, a streak there. A little more heat in this spot, and a little less in another spot. Before she knew it, the image she had in her head was translated on the stack of pancakes, smiling back at her and shimmering with a pleasant blue and purple.

     “Alright,” she took in her work. “That’s that. Just gotta wait for the boys.” A glance down at her batter-flecked clothes told her she had to do something else, however. “Right after I get outta these leggings and shirt.”

     After going to the bedroom, she shucked her dirtied clothes in the hamper in the corner—it bounced off the mound peeking erupting from the rim and fell to the floor—before moving to the closet. Nice blouse, nicer blouse, hoodie that was too warm for now, Eugene’s ratty hoodie, Delsin’s favorite white hoodie, three of Delsin’s flannel shirts, several of Eugene’s comic t-shirts, and—there it was. It took a bit, but she finally found her cozy t-shirt among all the Delsin’s and Eugene’s things. Surprisingly, all that was in the closet other than hoodies were only a few shirts and pants.

     Damn, they really needed to do laundry…

     Luck was on her side today as she was able to find a (only slightly wrinkly) pair of shorts that had been smushed in the corner of one of the dresser drawers. Once pulled on, she gave the drawer, and its companions, a long look. A lone, strangled sock wanted freedom from the drawer it was peeking out of. Yeah, she thought, I think we really need to clean and organize in here.  

      “Hey, uh, Fetch?” She heard Delsin call from the kitchen.

      “Yeah?”

      There was a hesitant pause before, “What’s up with these pancakes?”

      Fetch’s frowned in confusion, pulling her new clean shirt over her head as she exited the bedroom. Delsin’s voice sounded more perplexed than it did interested. Rounding the corner, she could see him and Eugene at the table staring at the glowing stack in front of them.

      “I like your doodle, i-it’s really cute,” Eugene gave her a shy compliment. “But did you, um, did you add food dye or something to the pancakes?”

      It was this question that made her look more closely at the pancakes she made. The first thing she noticed was the neon doodle she made of Delsin and Eugene, Del in the purple and Gene in the blue. The perplexing observation, on the other hand, was the fact that the pancakes had turned an odd swirl of her signature pink, purples, and blues. They looked tie-dyed with food coloring.

      Well, that wasn’t normal.

       “…I swear it wasn’t like that when I made them,” she muttered. She glanced at the fork in Eugene’s hand before plucking from his person, ignoring his ‘hey!’. “Time to see if they’re still edible,” she remarked a little too casually as she popped a piece in her mouth. Delsin and Eugene’s protesting cries were just a hair too late.

      If she died from being poisoned by her own neon, then she was going to haunt these two out of pure spite.

      It was a tense moment in the room as her boyfriends stared at her with wide eyes, searching for the littlest detail that she might be dying. Such wonderful guys, she snickered to herself. If I keel over, least I know they got me.

       “So, hey,” she announced with the necessity of a severe cold, “I’m not dead. Food’s not gonna kill you, so you should eat.” Their breaths of relief shouldn’t have been this amusing.

      After nabbing a new fork from the drawer for Eugene, Delsin slumped on the table. His own fork was pointed at her in warning. “Christ, Fetch! I swear, you’re going to kill us one of these days. If it’s not from stress, it’s going to be from something else, God.” He did take a moment to lean over and kiss her, which she appreciated. “But, anyway, thanks again.”

     Mouth full of pancake, Eugene couldn’t help himself. “But how did you not make the food b-blow up or something?” (She was fluent in Full Mouth-ese.) Desperation for an answer shouldn’t have been this funny.

     She laughed before kissing his temple as his mouth was too syrupy at the moment. “Guess I just got that skill, ya know?” The neon decorating really should have been a big no-no, because it gave her all the more reason to brag about how much better she was at using her powers with food.

     The side effect of the food turning colors depending on the neon, however, was not left unteased.

Published: 1/5/19

(1) Jason Momoa’s portrayal of Aquaman. If you don’t know, look him up because he’s very Beefy

[avengeultrons]

Title; St. Patrick’s Day Magic (Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: It’s St. Patrick’s Day, a day that Peter decides would be a good day to drink for the first time

Word Count: 1699

Warnings: UNDERAGE DRINKING seriously I don’t advise it don’t do it my kiddos

A/N: Yay finally Gabby writes something wow thank GOD I’m back and better than ever? Idk but I hope you enjoy this my dudes 

--

The joys of St. Patrick’s Day. Spirits were incredibly high in New York on that specific Saturday, and you weren’t just talking about the happiness levels of the people. Everywhere you walked, a sea of people dressed in green seemed to follow, practically crawling to the next bar. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet.

“Hey, look at this shirt,” Peter stopped dead in his tracks on the bustling sidewalk, causing annoyed bar crawlers to groan and shove around the two of you. The two of you were meandering, taking your time to enjoy the sights of the city before you made it to the St. Patrick’s Day bash at Stark Tower. It was the only reason Peter stopped in front of an obnoxiously bright green tee with shamrocks on it. “It says, ‘kiss me, I’m irish’,” he said with a grin.

You had to roll your eyes, laughing at him. “Are you, though?” Peter sighed loudly and shrugged his shoulders as he hung the shirt back up onto the rack. “Did you know that the phrase is in reference to the Blarney Stone in Ireland? Apparently, kissing this giant stone is good luck.”

Peter shook his head at you, biting back a smile. You were a history buff, full of fun facts about all of the major holidays. It was one of the things he found intriguing about you.

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” an overly excited man with green shamrock glasses on stood in front of a bar in his apron, holding out a tray of green colored alcohol. “Free sample? It’s beer, just dyed green.” Weren’t you both obviously too young for a sample of green beer?

Your face turned scarlet as you shook your head no, the same time that Peter’s face lit up and he nodded, reaching for a sample. “We can’t, we’re underage. Thanks, though,” you tugged on Peter’s elbow to drag him away from the bar. “Are you crazy, P?”

“What? He was offering it!” he scoffed, a small smile on his face. “It’s not going to hurt anything.”

You huffed in response, blowing hair out of your face. The bitter cold wind was whipping your hair around your face, stinging your eyes until they teared up. ‘“If I walk away from you at this party, I won’t find you lying in a drunk heap somewhere, right? You know that underage drinking is bad? If I have to carry you home, I will say that I told you so.” “You don’t have to parent me, Y/N, we’re here to have fun!” he smiled over at you as he held open the door to the lobby of Stark Tower. “I promise that you won’t find me in a drunk heap anywhere.”

“There you kids are. Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” Natasha smiled brightly as the two of you stepped out of the elevator. She was always there to greet you and make you feel at home, no matter what.

Peter gave a wave and ran off to talk to Steve and Sam, who were just popping open bottles of beer. “Peter’s trying to drown out the stress of being a teenage spider superhero with green beer,” you told Natasha with a sigh. “I even told him not to!”

“Oh, I’m sure that worked. Everything you say, he’ll do the opposite. He loves getting your attention,” she teased, nudging you in the ribs with her elbow. It was always this way with her, teasing each other like you were siblings. “I’ll talk to him, don’t worry. Did you see my balloon rainbow, by the way? It’s totally Instagram worthy, I know how much you’re about that.”

“Do you know why people say Leprechauns guard a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?” you followed her through the kitchen and around the maze of people into the common area where a basketball game was playing on the television. Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed at you, shaking her head slightly. You were a walking encyclopedia of knowledge and trivia.

Tony’s holiday bash was dwindling down to just the Avengers sitting around the coffee table in the living room, drinking from bottles of beer while laughing heartily and drinking in each other’s company. Even practically everyone gone, you couldn’t find Peter anywhere. Your stomach filled with the familiar knot of anxious butterflies as you leaned over to Tony. “Do you know where Peter is?”

“You mean he’s not with you?” the room fell silent as they all stared at you, eyes wide with worry. It was evident to you in that moment that Peter had done the total opposite of what you’d asked him to do and, while carrying him home later, you would have to say ‘I told you so’. “Jesus, and Nat and I had to give him the whole ‘be responsible’ talk. Do you teens ever learn?”

Steve sighed and rubbed his temples. “We’d better go look for the kid, then,” he said. Everyone silently got to their feet and separated, spreading throughout the tower to cover more ground and find him quicker.

Your heart was pounding hard in your chest, filling your ears with the thumping sound. All you could think about was Peter lying unconscious somewhere, or so intoxicated that he couldn’t see straight. His aunt was definitely going to have your head.

“Found him!” Bucky’s voice echoed through the hall, making everyone stop dead in their tracks and run to where Bucky was. He found him alright, holding Peter upright as he stumbled next to him, struggling to hold still as he swayed from left to right. His face was flushed red and his eyebrows raised in surprise, a light laugh escaping his lips.

Tony sighed loudly and took him by the shoulder gently, pulling him into the kitchen for a bottle of water. “Don’t puke on my shoes,” he said through a groan. “I’ll call Happy to bring a car around so that I can hopefully explain to May why her nephew is coming home plastered under my supervision.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” you sat next to Peter at the Kitchen table, watching him shrug. His actions were somehow clumsy, well, clumsier than normal.

He smiled over at you with a wide, goofy grin, blinking his eyes slowly like a tired puppy dog. “You look pretty today,” he said, Peter’s cheeks seeming to turn even redder.

“You really are wasted,” you rolled your eyes at him, the butterflies in your stomach threatening to escape in the form of word vomit. Peter was drunk, he didn’t mean anything that he was saying. “And your breath smells like beer. Is your tongue dyed green?”

The bright eyed, red faced boy sighed and pushed his hair out of his face before resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s the magic of St. Patrick,” he said nonchalantly. Natasha stifled her laughter by disguising it as a cough while you glared at her. “Aren’t you going to carry me home and tell me that you told me so?” he whispered, taking a gulp of water. Tony rolled his eyes and checked his watch, willing the time to go faster.

“Not right now,” you said with a small smile. Tony clapped his hands and got to his feet, willing Peter to get up with him. “You’re leaving,” you tapped on his shoulder, but he was snoring quietly,  sleeping soundly as if the two of you weren’t just having a conversation.

Natasha groaned. “PETER PARKER!” she shouted, causing him to bolt up right, as straight as an arrow. “You’re going home, sweetie. See you later, be safe,” she whispered the last part, watching with satisfaction as Peter winced from the volume of her voice.

“Let’s go explain this to your aunt before she has both of our heads on a pedestal,” Tony threw a jacket on and whipped out his phone to dial his Aunt’s number. “May? This is Tony. Oh, right, caller ID. Yes, I’m doing fine. Everything’s fine. I’m actually going to bring Peter home tonight because there’s something I need to talk to you about, is that okay? What? No, he’s not hurt,” his voice faded from the room as he headed for the elevator, waiting for Peter to follow.

He got to his feet slowly, as if he had suddenly aged fifty years and all of his bones were threatening to snap. “I guess that’s my cue. You’re still not going to say ‘I told you so’?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Not until you’re sober, that just wouldn’t be fair,” you said with a smile. His cheeks turned pink as Tony hollered for him, tapping his foot impatiently as he pushed the down arrow on the elevator. He nodded his head for Peter to hurry up, still talking to May on the phone.

“I’m going to be in so much trouble,” Peter laughed nervously, tugging on his sweatshirt. “See you later, if I make it,” he shrugged and quickly kissed your cheek before running off to join Tony. Your face turned pink as you waved a hand at Peter who was waving gleefully from the elevator.

“Gross,” Natasha said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll take you home, you ready?” You nodded and gratefully got to your feet. You were exhausted and spent from all of the social interaction and the late night. “I can’t believe that Peter gave you a smooch. After all this time, I never thought that he would ever make a move.” You rolled your eyes at her, your cheeks burning with a blush. “It’s not like he meant anything by it, you saw how drunk he was. He probably won’t even remember it in the morning,” Natasha nudged you in the elbow and flashed a smile as you shrugged nonchalantly. You weren’t even sure how many drinks Peter ended up having and if he was cognizant of anything that he was doing. Even with knowing all of this, you hoped that he would somehow remember when he woke up and, if he wasn’t in too much trouble, you could head over to his apartment to simply say, ‘I told you so’.

[seventeen-scenarios-blog]

[DRABBLE REQUEST] BestFriend/Boyfriend!Vernon (G)

Requested by: @catnipperson Prompt: A second part of the BestFriend/Boyfriend!Vernon scenarios, in which they meet many years later and they get together. Word Count: 1,524 Genre: Fluff Warnings: Major cheesy lines coming through, you’re warned

A/N: Wow this has got to be the fastest time I’ve taken to complete a Vernon drabble. This is a sequel to my earlier VERNON DRABBLE, so if you haven’t read that one yet, be sure to check it out first! Even though I hadn’t considered making a sequel to that, the writing progress was surprisingly smooth, and I’m pretty pleased with how this one turned out! I hope you guys like it!

-wooed <3

You can’t sleep.

You’ve returned to your apartment, weary to the bone after a crazy day at the awards ceremony with your bandmates, but you’ve bagged the ‘Best Female Group’ award, and you couldn’t be happier standing amongst the flurry of confetti and the thundering cheers with your group.

It has been eight years into your career, and your popularity is undoubtedly at its peak. And your rising popularity also brought you a handful of benefits.

For one, your contracted dating ban has been lifted, and your fans have been more than understanding, always encouraging you to meet other people.

But despite these encouragements, you have completely zero intentions of meeting other men anytime soon.

Especially not after the stunt he had pulled today.

You had sat there, completely flabbergasted when Seventeen took the stage to receive the ‘Best Male Group’ award. Not that it surprised you, really. Seventeen had exploded in fame over the past years, and even with a couple members missing due to military duties, they remain as one of the most recognised K-Pop groups in the world.

What threw you into a complete whirl of emotions was, however, when Hansol took the mic into his hands after Seungchul had concluded his speech. True to the mutual promise you’ve made to each other, you and Hansol had been practically strangers and cutting off all contact with each other. Even though your career as idols had caused you to cross paths more often than you’d like to, you had forced yourself to remain on professional terms, even though it hurt you to stay away.

But that doesn’t stop the way your heart pounds each time you make eye contact. Even after seven years, the sight of him, the heat of his stare, still makes you melt on the spot.

You’ve assumed he’s moved on from your breakup, since it’s been seven whole years since you’ve parted ways. Surely he has, right? His popularity peak has allowed him to be exposed to so many other wonderful girls out there, more talented and prettier than you are by tenfolds. He has girls lining up for him everywhere he goes, so why would he remember a petty promise he’s made during his rookie days?

It’s a harsh thought, but you’ve accepted your hypothesis for now.

“It’s uh…” the male had said, when the screams of the fans died down. “been a great nine years for Seventeen. But as we all know, our group will be taking a year-long hiatus.”

He didn’t be able to finish his sentence before he was met with a chorus of whines and groans from the audience, while your eyes had widened with disbelief. Year-long hiatus? This had definitely been news to you.

“I know this isn’t the best place or time to reveal this but…” he mumbles with a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a promise to someone seven years ago.”

You swear that your heart has stopped beating, and caught amidst a bunch of artistes, you can’t show that big of a reaction. You stiffened up all of your muscles to make yourself stay seated.

Amongst the murmurs of confusion and curiosity, Hansol visibly swallows before continuing again. “Because of me, she’s been hurting for many, many years now. And now…” He can barely stop his voice from trembling, and several of his band members step up to lay comforting hands on his shoulders. “I would like to take this chance to tell her that I haven’t forgotten our promise.”

“I hope our fans can understand this, but… I miss her a lot, and I really, really want to see her again, and I would like to ask her if she’d give me another chance to be in her life once more.”

Back in your room, you turn over in your covers and cover your face with your pillow as you let out a silent scream recalling it all.

It seems like falling asleep isn’t an option for you tonight, not when every vein your body is pumping with this much adrenaline.

He hasn’t forgotten. He’s never forgotten.

You eventually end up shooting upright in your bed, your heart hammering against your ribs. He meant what he said back then, right?

You can’t take this any longer, with all the thoughts spinning through your mind like a whirlwind. So you throw open your door at 2AM in the morning, opting to get yourself some fresh air to clear your mind.

Another positive aspect about being a veteran idol is that you are entitled to your own quiet apartment away from the hustle and bustle of city life, and you are always greeted with a comforting view of the Han River each time you exit the building. The river is definitely of sentimental value to you.

After all, it was where you and Hansol always hung out when you were just trainees, be it sneaking out for a night’s fun or just destressing listening to the water. You’ve spent many hours with him here, and memories you’ve retained over the decade stab you like a honeyed thorn; the nostalgia painful yet soothing all the same.

Even when I’m trying to keep you out of my head, Hansol, you think with a slight smirk, your stubborn ass still somehow finds its way there...

But the days were over and long gone now, and your promise you’ve made to each other weighs heavily on your shoulder.

“Promise you’ll wait for me?” Hansol’s voice reverberates through your head, and you can still picture how everything looked on your last night together in Hong Kong in your mind’s eye. “When I’m successful, when I’m more confident, I’ll be able to finally give you the love I can’t give you now. Will you please wait for me until then?”

I’ve waited, you reply him solemnly, for seven years. Will you come back for me now?

You shake off your nerves for now, coaxing yourself to fixate on the beautiful night view of the river, how the starlight shines on the water, making graceful dances with the ripples, and you smile, recalling how you and Hansol would look out at them in comfortable silence, just basking in each other’s presence in pure satisfaction. This place really means a lot to you.

A cold breeze whooshes past you, and once again, you find yourself in nothing but a thin jumper and slacks in the dead of winter. You sigh, debating on whether or not to seek shelter in your apartment or linger around longer. Though the former option seemed more sensible, your feet stubbornly remains rooted, as though it is waiting for something.

Or someone…

“It’s been seven years now, and you still don’t know how to wear a jacket?”

Oh my god, your mouth goes completely dry hearing those words, and with your body still facing the river, you daren’t turn around, lest your mind is playing tricks on you and that you’d be faced with disappointment. No way… you decide. This is too good to be true. It can’t be, right?

“Hansol,” you hear yourself whisper, and you hear his happy hum in response. His shoes make crunching noises against the thin layer of snow, and it only grows louder as it approaches you.

“I figured you’d be here.” Those five words send goosebumps emerging throughout your body. Completely overwhelmed with emotions, you can only stand there, forcing back the tears that you belatedly realised had escaped your eyes. And seconds later, warm envelopes you when he places his warm padded jacket around your shoulders.

But the warmth provided by the clothe is nothing compared to that from the way his arms encircle around your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” Hansol mumbles, and you resorted to dabbing your wet cheeks with your wrists. “Better late, than never,” you tell him, and he tightens his embrace. “I can’t believe you waited for me.”

“Of course,” says the male with a slight snort, rocking your bodies back and forth in an unheard rhythm. “I’d rather live a life missing you, than spend it with a second with another girl that isn’t you, you know?”

“I know that you’ve remained as corny as always,” you laugh, earning his deep, baritone chuckle as well. His hands slip down from the grip on your waist to entwine with your right hand, and even though your back is still against him, you can tell that his subsequent grin is as bright as yours when you both realise that your hands are still a perfect fit for one another.

You unconsciously tighten your hold on him, knowing that it’s the only thing anchoring you to this reality. It isn’t a dream anymore, Hansol has come back for you.

"Don't worry," Hansol’s breath tickled her ear, as though sensing your moment of doubt, "No one can separate us anymore."

No further words are exchanged between you two. You quietly watch the night sky together, just like what you did as trainees.

You snuggle closer to his embrace in complete bliss.

This is it. Just like that, in your arms...

We're together at last.

[myaekingheart]

I know I had a ton more weird dreams last night, I just can't remember the specifics of most of them but I do remember some parts so whatever, I'll just jot those down.

First dream was just me back with my dog again. Probably because I skyped him last night and I miss him like fucking crazy. Hopefully I'll be able to get back down to my hometown this month and see him.

Second dream was very complex and dramatic and I'm kind of kicking myself over the fact that I can't remember the majority of it? It was so vivid in the moment when I dreamed it but after I started to wake up, it quickly began to fade and now all I have are hazy fragments. I distinctly remember a house, and everything was muted colors and dim lighting, just all very gray. There was a couple, as well, and they were having some sort of deep, intense relationship problems. I know the woman was blonde, but I can't remember what the guy looked like. I think there was another guy in the mix, too, like the woman was either having an affair with him or he was trying to kill her. I remember seeing in third person perspective someone (I think the blonde woman, or myself) standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror, but my view of the house was very Sims-esque in that the walls were cut away like the view option in the Sims games. There was a lot of tenseness in the scene, as well, but I can't quite remember why. It was just all very complex and dramatic and strange and I wish I could remember more of it. Maybe later today, more of the specifics will come back to me.

The third, fourth, and fifth dreams all kind of run into each other so I don't quite know if they were separate instances, like chronological episodes of the same show, or if they were all just one big dream but either way, they're connected. It started out that I was entering Magic Kingdom late in the afternoon (around sunset) for Dapper Day. I was really excited, I think I was with a friend or two, and we were all dressed up. But not even five minutes after we got inside, they announced that everyone who didn't have special event tickets for Dapper Day had to leave the park. They were basically treating it like the Halloween and Christmas parties, which is actually a big fear I have about the future of Dapper Day itself (I really don't want them to turn it into some sort of prestige event you can only attend if you have event tickets). Seeing as me and my friends didn't have the special tickets, we were forced to leave not even five minutes after we entered the park, and I was disappointed as all hell. The way they were asking everyone to exit, however, was really strange. They told everyone to take the back exit through Frontierland and there was a cast member there to guide everyone to where we were supposed to go in some sort of of discombobulated single file line, as if we were back in grade school. The Magic Kingdom in my dream, like most places in my dreams, wasn't exactly like the real Magic Kingdom. The essence was the same but the specifics weren't. There was one instance, as we were exiting, where I was standing on this bridge near what I can assume was supposed to be Splash Mountain, even though the entire feel of the area was more like the Dudley DoWright log floom in Universal. I remember trailing back behind the rest of the group with my phone out trying to take a picture of Main Street in the sunset because it was too beautiful for me to pass up (and I could see it from where I was, since this version of Magic Kingdom was apparently on multiple levels like on a hill or something). There was a cast member standing there beside this yellow cartoony shed, and he was wearing a yellow polo with red accents, and I asked him if it was okay if I stopped to take a picture. He kind of waved me off flippantly and was like, "Yeah, sure, whatever" about it and so I tried my best to take my picture as quickly as I could without getting too far behind the rest of the group, and then ran on my way.

The dream then transitioned into this building that was some sort of Disney/Universal/kids' museum mashup. Maybe this is where we went after we were kicked out of Magic Kingdom? It was actually a pretty cool fucking place, even if it comes off kind of trippy after the fact. Like there was room that was a very Seuss-like, Wonderland-esque tunnel that made it look like you were climbing through a tunnel of Dr. Seuss-style clouds and that you were shrinking as you went, the room grew wider and the ceiling grew taller. There was another section I remember going through with my grandmother of all people: it started off as this entrance into some sort of hallway that was all based around physics like there were flaps on this one wall that were swinging in and out and were supposed to represent something about velocity? And everything else was physics related. And then at the end of the hall, it opened up into this gray room (everything was gray, actually, like the entire room was covered in gray carpet with the installations giving a pop of color, like those flaps were like this holographic plastic) with all these red circular accents on the one wall (which was lit by studio lights) and floor. Kids were running around everywhere laughing and just having a good fucking time. The red circles on the floor were apparently fountains that sprayed water in different directions and formats, like some of them shot a tight stream of water diagonally and others shot a vertical fan of water and shit like that. I remember running through to the other end of the room, where a large pair of glass double doors stood, not even really caring if I got wet, whereas my grandma was much more hesitant. She wanted nothing to do with this place and definitely did not want to get wet, even if getting wet was really the only way to get to the other side of the room. Eventually, she just sucked it up and run across, trying to dodge every sprinkler she passed, but she still couldn't stop herself from getting kind of wet.

Here, the dream again transitioned into a different scene. Now I was sitting in what appeared to be a cafeteria. It actually kind of reminded me of a mixture of the cafeteria at my high school and the one in High School Musical. I was sitting with a friend at a table filled with sorority moms (why we decided to sit with sorority moms, I have no fucking clue) facing a large wall of windows overlooking the same view of Main Street and Cinderella Castle that I had tried to snap a picture of earlier on. The lunch was going relatively well save for the snide remarks from our adult company. Everyone had well-rounded meals in front of them whereas I had a single pastry (it was like a mix between a muffin and a danish??? I don't know, it was really weird like it was a weird shaped muffin with raspberry jam and blueberries and the inside was filled with cream cheese). One woman looked at my pastry and made some comment about the filling inside, like how it was hard to handle or made a mess or something, and I broke off a piece of my untouched food to try it only to find she was kind of right. Then before I knew it, this other woman who I can only remember was referred to as "Mandy's mom" or something was sitting on the cafeteria table's bench next to me and she was basically shoving me off the seat so that I was practically clinging to a half an inch of bench, meanwhile she had enough room for herself and then an entire football team on the other side of her. I put up with it for a short while before I lost my cool and yelled at her, told her off, said something about my left butt cheek, made a whole big scene sticking up for myself, the usual. The other sorority moms were honestly pretty appalled, like oh my god how dare this child speak so rudely to this woman who quite frankly looked like a washed up Kardashian. I didn't care, though. I had stuck up for myself and that was all that mattered.

After the little lunchroom incident, the friend I had been sitting with was nowhere to be found. When everyone was done eating, we exited through these glass double doors on the same wall as all the windows that opened up to the top level of this very plain amphitheater. There were tons of kids out there and it was then that I understood I was on a campus tour for my university, even though this place looked hardly anything like my actual college. I weaved through the hoards of other students, traversing up and down the cement bleachers, trying to find my friend who I eventually located on the other side of the amphitheater. I went over to her only to find her freaking out as this girl I was friends with back in high school approached. I haven't seen this girl in a while but I know even now that the way she was in the dream is not anything like she'd be like in real life now. She had on this neon pink/orange (it was like an orangey pink) blouse and this braided teal hippie headband and she had her hair back in this messy ponytail with choppy sideswept bangs and she was super bubbly and excited about meeting up with my friend, and then me when I made my way over there. Either me or my friend made some excited comment about "Oh my god, look at how you're dressed!" and her being different than the way she was in high school. We gushed for a few more minutes before my eyes fell on Main Street and the castle just within view, like there was the rest of the amphitheater and then a fence blocking off a road lined with trees that spanned all the way back to Frontierland and you could see the park just over/through the trees. But as my eyes landed on this scene in the background, I suddenly was filled with this overwhelming sense of dread and panic and asked both of them how long they'd be in town (because apparently we were all in my current town during all of this). I suggested that they should come over to my apartment, because I live here now, and hang out and meet my boyfriend and we could go out to get food because I knew some really good places to eat up here and whantot. Before I could explain everything, though, the dream kind of faded to black and that was the end of everything.