#finn's pencil tests

[holmeshater]

animation test with professor layton!!

[viscerax]

hii i was wondering if you could do a cute poly imagine of robin, finney, and the reader like one where they like studying or something and it turns into a cuddle session? i really loved the other poly one you did

Study Sessions

Robin, Finney, and you were all laying on your stomachs in a circle, math books, pencils, papers,and snacks sprawled out in between them. You and Finney both needed help with math, and Finney was happy to help.

Well, it was more like Robin needed a lot of help, and you just wanted to be around the two of them. And you enjoyed the proud look Finney gave you when you "figured out" a difficult problem.

Finney was laying in between you and Robin. He was leaning over towards Robin, pointing out all of the problems.

"So this one, you have to multiply by 5 to find the variable, and then-" Finney's voice faded out as he looked up and realized you and Robin were paying more attention to eachother then the math problems.

"Come on guys! Really?" Finney sighed and dropped his pencil, giving the both of you an irritated look. He sat up and sat cross legged in between the two of you.

You and Robin looked at Finney and then eachother and let out a chuckle.

"Oooh! Finn's jealous!" You teased, holding a hand over your mouth to hold back your chuckles. Finn sighed and rolled his eyes, meanwhile Robin was giggling as well.

"Whats wrong, Finn? You jealous?" Robin smirked and sat up, sitting next to Finn and grabbing his hand, which almost immediately made him start to blush a bit.

"Wh-what? No! I'm not jealous! You guys just aren't paying attention!" Finney protested, giving Robin a light slap on the back of his head. He insisted he wasn't jealous, but the blush spreading across his face was a dead giveaway.

You followed Robin and sat up as well, grabbing Finneys other hand. "No, you're totally jealous!" You teased and kissed his cheek, making Finney even more flustered then before.

Robin snickered, and proceeded to practically tackle Finney, knocking him on the floor and Robin landing on top of him. "If you were jealous, you could have just said something, finn!" Robin smiled and peppered kisses all over Finneys rosy face.

Finney was giggling and squirming beneath Robin, his laughs sending flurries of butterflies all throughout your stomach.

Deciding you wanted in on the cuddles. You tackled the both of them, and ended up dogpiling on top of Finney, who had to push the two of you off so he could catch a breath.

You and Robin were laying on your backs next to Finney, breathing heavily and giggling, grasping Finneys hands tightly, whom was silent and flustered between the two of you.

Finney looked over at you, then to Robin. He scooted towards you, and Robin followed suit. The three of you were now hugging eachother tightly, your head resting on Finneys chest, and Finneys resting on Robins.

"You guys are the worst study buddies." Finney murmured and chuckled, causing you and Robin to roll your eyes and chuckle with him.

"Whatever. If I fail my test its totally your fault, Finn."

A/N: I fucking love these poly requests omfggfg <3333 this made me smile while writing and then immediately realize how lonely I am so I hope you guys enjoyed :'3

[might-be-tiny-gt]

Fic time Fic time! This one is a prequel for @sa-gt-tarrius Tiniest Turnabout! I wanted to write a story about the doctor and his interns and show a bit of their relationship. For the doctor specifically, I wanted to show off his eccentricity and how it relates to his students.

Spoilers Ahead

“Yes, Yes, I understand. Thank you again so much! And sorry again for the inconvenience.” Dr. Roscope closed the lab door with a sigh, took a breath, and faced his pupils with a smile.

Waiting anxiously behind the counter were his three assistants. First there was Finn McTesimal, a prodigy in his own right, barely out of high school and already having shown incredible promise. He was seated in a rolling chair with a worried face as he tugged on the ends of his still smoking scarf. Standing off to the side with her arms crossed was Minnie Ature. Her patience knew no end, made clear by her unperturbed expression. Surely, this ship would have sunk ages ago if she wasn’t around, something Mike was endless grateful for. Finally, seated next Finn, absentmindedly tapping a pencil against the desk was Lily Putian. Truly, the brains of their whole operation. It had been ages since he last encountered someone who could take his larger than life ideas and turn them in something tangible. He only wished Lily would push herself to think of outlandish ideas of her own, she could benefit from thinking outside the box so to speak.

All eyes turned to the doctor, “Well kids, I have -“

Before the words left his lips, the three finished for him, “Good news and bad news?”

“Ah, glad to see we are all on the same page. Great minds think alike and all that,” Dr. Roscope grabbed a stool and a chalkboard and dragged them in front of the counter as if setting up for a lecture, “Bad news, obviously being that our field test was a failure and I have just been ‘strongly urged’ that we cease any continuation of the project effective immediately.”

As to be expected there we groans of discontent and comments of disbelief. Dr. Roscope didn’t do anything to dissuade them from letting out their frustrations, they had every right to be upset.

Minnie, doing her best to remain level headed, raised her hand, “So, what’s the good news?”

The doctor clapped his hands together with content, “Thank you for asking! The good news is that the field test only caused minimal damage to the west building, only breaking that one window. And the resulting fire was quickly extinguished before anyone got hurt.”

“Well,” Lily spoke up half-heartedly, “That’s a relief.”

There was beat of quiet before Finn shot up from his seat, startling Lily, “Doctor, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t think a fire would break out.”

Dr. Roscope step forward, “There’s no need to apologize Finn. I don’t think any of us could have foreseen the wind blowing away your scarf the way that it did. It was an accident and as far as Freddy’s concerned, entirely my responsibility.”

Finn noticed the doctor give him a wink at that last statement and he sat back down with weary smile. Both Lily and Minnie comforted Finn as the doctor continued.

“Now that we have all that out of the way we can spend the rest of our afternoon together, that being,” He glanced down at his watch, “The next twenty or so minutes, brainstorming our next major project for the semester.”

Roscope began erasing the the chalkboard. Lily cringed as she witnessed all their research and impromptu notes they took such care not to smudge over the course of the semester be erased in an instant. When Roscope was done, any writing on the board was completely illegible but he didn’t bother erasing any of the smudges. With no concern for the mess still left on the board, the good doctor wrote in the top corner with large surprisingly visible letters, “Project Ideas.”

“Now remember, in this lab, there are no bad ideas,” He took a seat on the stool, leaning forward in anticipation, “Just uncreative ones that aren’t worth perusing. That being said, what are we thinking?”

There was a pause as Finn, Minnie, and Lily silently deliberated amongst themselves.

Finn spoke up first, “Well, maybe we can make something to help students who are running late make it to class on time?”

“Yes, that’s a problem, now what’s a solution?”

Minnie chimed in, “How about a better alarm clock?” Lily and the doctor chuckled.

The joke completely flew over Finn’s head, “Oh well, I was actually thinking more about student on campus who might have a long way to walk between classes?”

“In that case, we could create plan for a campus wide transportation system? Maybe we could use a tram-“

“That’s a good idea Lily, but perhaps we can push that idea bit more? How can we get students to their classes in an instant?”

“Doctor, are you talking about teleportation?”

.

..

…

“Yes! YES! Teleportation! BRILLIANT IDEA FIINN! Let me just right this down.”

“Hold it,” Lily interjected as Dr. Roscope sporadically scribbled on the chalkboard, “Teleportation? Is that a little to far outside the realm of possibility to be considered? How would that even work?”

“We could set teleportation stations around campus! Oh OH! Or we could make it like a phone app and you just input where you need to be and then your just there!”

“That’s a neat plan Finn, but I think what Lily was trying to get across was how would we even go about making teleportation technology. We’d be breaking quite a few laws of physics.”

“When will you girls understand? Your minds are capable of coming up with limitless possibilities that we can make real if we put our minds together. Stop limiting your thinking because of things as inconsequential as the laws of physics. Laws were made to be broken, damnit!”

“Sorry Doc,” Minnie merely shrugged, “Not saying it’s impossible, just saying it’s going to be really hard to break those kinds of laws. Besides teleportation’s probably not the wisest idea, Jeff Goldblum could tell you that much.”

“Hmm, you may be right. Probably shouldn’t risk a lawsuit…. Do you have any other ideas?”

Dr. Roscope specifically tuned his gaze to Minnie, she had the floor. Minnie had to think for moment. She wanted to propose something practical, but heaven forbid she suggest something “uncreative.”

“Flight.”

“Flight?” Finn Questioned.

Lily contested, “We already have planes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase then, personal flight.”

Lily and Finn eyed each other. Dr. Roscope could only smile, “Go on, Minnie.”

“Well, if we’re pitching crazy ideas then I’d like make personal flight possible. I’m not suggesting we sprout a pair of wings but-“

“Buuuuuut,” The doctor interrupted with that face Minnie knew all to well, “What if we had bones like a bird instead!?”

Finn’s eyes lit up, Minnie facepalmed, and Lily could only watch with concern as the doctor wrote out his idea on the board.

“Yes, if we could make a formula that could safely hollow out human bones, we could possibly achieve flight without the need for any mechanics! What a wonderfully inventive idea Minnie!”

“Thanks?” Could she really take credit when her idea was snubbed like that?

“Absolutely not,” Lily stood up from her seat and approached the board, “Dr. Roscope, with all due respect this doesn’t seem at all practical, let alone possible. I know you want us to think big but maybe there’s a way we can think big and with in the realm of possibility?”

Dr. Roscope was now face to face with Lily. He could see the determination in her eyes, “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Then by all means,” The doctor placed the chalk in Lily’s hand and walked to the counter to join Minnie and Finn.

“Thank You.”

Lily took care to erased everything off the board, smudges included. She then spent the next few minutes proposing several project that could benefit the school. She had bullet points, pros and con lists, and even a few rough outlines, it was all very well thought out.

When she finished Dr. Roscope clapped and returned to the board to get a closer look at her work, “Very well done Lily. I believe all the projects you proposed would be really useful.”

Lily saw his face. He was smiling and studying her notes with genuine curiosity, but she could see it in his eyes.

“You do like any of them… do you?”

Only for a brief moment did Dr. Roscope attempt to fake surprise but he reigned himself to his fate. He let out a sigh, he was caught. He shook his head.

“Of course not. Why would you like anything I propose?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I- Doctor, the entire time I’ve been here it feels like nothing I suggest is meets your standards. I know you appreciate my work ethic and contributions when we actually have something to work on but why does it feel,” Lily paused, searching for her words, “Am I not good enough for you?”

“What? Lily, of course not! You’re here because I want you to be here. I ask for your opinions and ideas because I want to hear them-“

“Then why do you never seem to listen?”

“Lily I- You see the- What I want from-“

Dr. Roscope struggled to get his thoughts together. He continued to stammer for a bit while Finn, Minnie, and Lily exchanged concerned looks. Finally Dr. Roscope found his voice.

“A great scientist’s legacy lies in what they discover, what do they learn or create that changes the way each and everyone one on this planet perceives the world around them,”

Dr. Roscope strolled over to the stool and sat down. His face displayed the most… earnest expression any of them had seen since… well, ever.

He continued, “But a great teacher’s legacy lies in their students. You three are some of the most incredible, talented, and creative minds I’ve had the pleasure to call my students. I want you to know that I see myself in each of you. Every time you walk through that door I see pieces of my reflection come together and I can’t help but be proud. And call me a selfish man but years down the line when you’ve long since graduated, and I’m a crazy old fart, I hope you visit me from time to time. Regale me with tales of how you changed the world, and I’ll know my legacy’s secure.”

“Doc, you already are a crazy old fart.”

The doctor couldn’t help but laugh, Minnie’s quick wit strikes again, “I suppose my reputation does proceed me. But believe me when I say you get crazier with age.”

“Oh I believe it.”

“Ultimately my goal with this internship isn’t to make an impact on the world, it’s to make an impact on you. If we happen to change the world in the process, that’s even better,” Dr. Roscope once again turned his attention to Lily, “I’m sorry that I ever made you think you were not good enough. I just want you to think outside the box more. Don’t ask ‘Is it Possible?’ Ask ‘Can I make it possible?”

“Thanks”

*Beep* *Beep*

Dr. Roscope checked his watch, “Alright that’s time. I won’t keep you here longer than you need to be, I know you’ve all got rides to catch.”

Finn, Minnie, and Lilly gathered their things. After grabbing her bag Minnie put her hand on Lily’s shoulder (Which was admittedly a bit awkward considering the height difference but hey what can you do.)

“You’re doing great.”

Finn chimed in, “Yeah, we’re all lucky to have you here.”

“Thanks guys, that means a lot.”

Minnie and Finn stepped out of the room to head home but Lily found herself hesitant to leave just yet.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm? Yes, Lily?”

“I’m sorry for lashing out the way I did. That was uncalled for.”

“No, please don’t apologize. You have every right to speak your mind and if you ever need to talk to me about something like that again, I’ll be here. I’m also going to review your project ideas, see if maybe we can start one of them this week.”

Lily nodded and reach for the door knob before stopping herself again.

“A size encapsulator…”

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s my out of the box, if I could do the impossible, idea. I’d make a size encapsulator.”

“That is a revolutionary idea. Thank you, Lily. Get home safe!”

“Likewise.”

Feeling much better, Lily stepped outside and headed home.

—————————

The next day Minnie and Finn found themselves in the lab alone. Minnie had brought her sewing kit so to pass the time she began patching up Finn’s scarf while he watched with awe.

“Wow, I can barely see the seams! You’re really good at this.”

“Yeah well,” Minnie finished up her patch job and cut the thread with her teeth, “You pick up a thing or two working at a craft store”

Minnie handed the finished scarf back to Finn who happily wrapped around his neck. He studied the area Minnie had fixed with wonder.

“Can you teach me how sew like you?

But Minnie was distracted looking at the wall clock.

“It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Do you think they’re ok? I mean after yesterday…”

“Lily and Doc are fine. If there’s a problem, they are more than capable of talking it out. Let’s be really, do you think either of them would resort to avoiding the other?”

“You’re right. They’re probably running late.”

As if on cue, the door the lab burst open with dramatic vigor startling both Minnie and Finn. An extremely excited Dr. Roscope comes through.

“I AM HAPPY TO ANNOUNCE HAVE OUR SEMESTER PROJECT AND,” Dr. Roscope gestures behind him to Lily who followed him inside. She has several papers up to her face, her eyes glued to it pages, “It’s all Lily’s idea.”

“Oh wow, that- that’s great,” Finn smiled, relived they seemed to be on good terms, “so which one is it?”

Dr. Roscope dashed up to the chalkboard erasing all the notes Lily wrote the day before, “None of these!”

“Doc, if it’s none of her suggestions from yesterday-“

“Ah but it was,” He turned to Lily, “Tell them.”

Lily was still rummaging through the papers, she hadn’t even looked up once. Minnie and Finn approached her to see what she was looking at. The caught glimpses of numbers and hand written formulas, what they added up to they had no clue.

“What is this?” Minnie asked.

Lily finally spoke up her voice slightly shaky, “I-I-I ran into in the hall a-and he ran some numbers and-“

“Numbers on what?” Finn asked.

Dr. Roscope answered, “A size encapsulator!”

“A what?!?”

“It’s just some rough estimates, but if these numbers are correct, which I’m positive they are it means that-“

Lily finally lowered the papers revealing the disbelief on her face, “It’s possible…”

“Wait, are we actually making a shrink ray!?” Finn was practically bouncing, he could barely hide his excitement.

“Are we?”

Minnie asked looking to the doctor for an answer but he didn’t have one. It was clear the doctor was looking to Lily for her answer.

“I- I think we are.”

[x-fizzyp0p-x]

Lost Promise | Robin Arellano/The New Boy

TW - Canon-type violence, heavily implied CSA

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41352417

A pinkish-orange sky, seemingly only just having been bright blue, became a momentary point of distraction. It was beautiful - the perfect kind of gradient painting that you’d see hanging up in a doctor’s office to relax patients. Robin Arellano quickly turned back to Finn though, glad to have gotten so much done. Although he was still worried about the test tomorrow, he was more confident that he’d be able to pass, at the very least.

Robin always felt so lucky to have someone like Finn. He just… Made everything better. Easier– or, maybe just worth the effort. He’d be expelled by now if he didn’t have him as a tutor, and even just as a friend. Since they began hanging out more often, he’d found that he was trying harder in school, actually caring about not getting suspended. And he was actually getting into less fights. 

With the exception of today, of course.

It took Robin a moment to realize he was staring until he quickly looked back to the textbook.

“You think you’ll need any more practice?” The boy looked up at him, “I could just come up with some more problems off the top of my head.”

“I think I’ll be okay, actually. I understand it a lot better now, I can actually run through the process, y’know?”

“Yeah?” Finn smiled, “Good, glad it paid off. I’ll write some notes for you to memorize before the test, okay? Like flashcards.”

“Alright, thanks Finn.” 

Smiling softly - not even visibly - Robin closed his notebook and folder, throwing them in his book bag carelessly followed by a loose pencil. He stood to stretch and grab his bottle of water. This gave him the opportunity to watch Finn as he wrote the notes on an index card. Robin found that he was gorgeous in the moment, just as he was every other. The sunset showing from the window next to him only complemented his natural beauty. It was a sweet moment he wished he could capture on camera if he wouldn't look like a creep while doing it.

But, who was he to be thinking these things about his best friend?

Taking a large chug of water, he tried to focus his attention elsewhere. Noticing it was only 6pm, he knew it was still two hours until Finn had to get back home. Wanting to take advantage of this opportunity, he thought of something to do in the meantime. 

“You wanna stay for dinner? We can listen to the mixtape I made the other night.”

“Oh, I would, but I don’t wanna be walking home after dark. Cause…” Finn paused for a moment, hesitating and rephrasing what he was going to say. “The kidnappings.”

“Don’t worry about it, my mom can give you a ride.”

“Would she be okay with that?”

Robin chuckled, “You know she loves you like her own, Finn. She won’t mind.”

Laughing and rolling his eyes, Finn finally agreed and put the index card in Robin’s backpack, notably doing so in a more organized manner than the bag was used to, as it was tucked neatly into a folder. He didn’t seem to mind the mess, despite his own bag being much more orderly.

It was only a few minutes until they were called down for dinner. Finn always seemed to love eating with the Arellano’s. Even if it was kind of chaotic - he seemed to like the fact that they were all able to talk to each other without someone getting annoyed. And the food was amazing, of course - Stella was an amazing cook, and it was obvious she put a lot of effort in it.

It seemed to have everything his own family lacked.

Robin remembered a time where Finn was crying to him, rambling about how much he hated his father. He’d almost suggested the boy grab Gwen and a few important items and stay here, but he knew how the system worked.

 It wasn’t legal, and his mom would get into trouble for it. Plus, getting caught would just get the siblings into even more danger.

For the time being, he just let them both stay the night when they needed to.

And everyone loved having them over anyways, so it wasn’t like it was a problem. Finn, especially, fit right into the family. It was almost too perfect to have a best friend like him.

Even if he wished sometimes that it was more than that.

Trying to continue pushing the thought from his mind, Robin tried to enjoy dinner like any normal person would. He stuffed his face full of food as if it were his last meal while Stella was in the kitchen, preparing dessert. Finn did the same though, sitting right beside him, enjoying one of the rare moments he actually got good food.

“Ew, Robin.” Cecilia playfully rolled her eyes.

“Oh shut up,” He spoke with his mouth full, “I don’t say anything when you’re being gross.”

“At least I don’t shove my face full of it like that.”

“Oh please, at least I don’t suck faces with Chris Showalter–”

She lightly kicked him under the table.

“Right in the living room too.” Finn added, laughing slightly.

“Hey!” Cecelia lowered her voice, “If you two don’t keep your mouths shut, I’m not taking you to the arcade next week.”

Not calling her bluff, the pair didn’t mention what they saw earlier as Stella came back to the dining room.

The rest of dinner went well. Finn thanked Stella profusely, as per usual, grateful to be included - especially on such short notice. She was always so accommodating and never complained - it would’ve felt wrong for him not to. Robin brought some soda and cookies upstairs for them while they listened to the mixtape.

“It’s just something I put together really. Just… Shit that reminded me of you, y’know?”

Robin tried to keep himself chill, and didn’t make a big deal out of it, casually putting in the tape and hitting play. Finn seemed interested, though - as he always did - and smiled as they both sat on the bed and listened to the music, the first song being from Fleetwood Mac. He and Finn had some slightly differing music tastes - Robin being more into rock than anything, but his friend never seemed to mind. 

In the midst of it, Robin noticed him holding something small in his hands, and looked over, smiling.

“You still carry that around with you?”

Confused at first, Finn paused for a moment, then smiled. “Yeah, course I do. It’s helpful for– if it’s like, dark out, or I need self defense…” He started to stutter slightly.

“Good.” He took one last look at the spaceship. “Use it however you need. That’s why I got it in the first place.”

Finn smiled and nodded, holding it tightly in his hand.

“Oh, by the way, you can take the mixtape when you go.”

“Wait– are you sure??”

“Yeah. I’ll make another one - we can both have a copy that way.”

This moment in and of itself - just sitting and hanging out with his best friend, eating and talking about life - was beautiful. He didn’t always get moments of peace like this. Anything in school or in public always felt tense, like he had eyes on him. But this was different. It always was, with Finn. And he cherished that. 

He hoped to have that for as long as possible.

»»——⍟——««

Counting up his cash, Robin was glad to seemingly have enough to get some decent snacks. It had taken a while to save up for this, and he was just glad to have enough for a night with Finn. He shoved the money back into his jean pockets, now looking straight ahead as he walked closer to the direction of the convenience store, taking in the fresh air. 

After only a few moments, he saw a black van. He thought nothing of it, really. It was probably just some company van that a dude parked to take a bathroom break or something. But, as Robin approached, a man stepped out of the van. And… A weird one at that.

The man was pale, and wore a top hat with dark colored sunglasses in the middle of a dull fall. But his outfit - that was what weirded Robin out the most. He wore some kind of ugly black and red suit with a black cape that flowed softly in the wind. And, in a weird way, he thought the stranger looked ready for some kind of performance.

This man seemed headed in Robin’s direction - he knew there was no other person around, and this was probably bound to be incredibly dangerous. With the way that four boys had already turned up missing within the last year, he knew in his gut that something was wrong. He’d only wished he hadn’t been so stubborn to fight with his instincts.

Before he knew it, he and the man were only a few feet away, and Robin could immediately tell he had bad intentions. Something about his mannerisms… Was off. Besides, what was he even doing out here, if not heading to the convenience store in the opposite direction?

Robin clenched his fists tightly, preparing to plant his feet when he stopped walking as he kept an eye on the man who grew closer with a fake welcoming smile.

“Hey there, would you like to see a–”

“Not interested, I’m busy.”

Keeping himself on guard, Robin walked past the man, who now sighed and caught up to him. This made the boy immediately turn and force his arm back, elbowing him in the throat. That didn’t stop the man, though, as he only made a noise of distress and grabbed him violently, keeping the kid in his arms tightly as he reached in his coat for a canister.

“LET ME THE FUCK GO YOU–”

The man sprayed some kind of bug poison or cleaner into Robin’s mouth, forcing his throat to stop the cries for help, and then into his eyes, making his vision go dark and blurry. Still, though, he didn’t give up on fighting for freedom, even if he had to blindly run into a nearby store. He threw vicious and frantic punches, which, although well aimed, didn’t get him out of the man’s grasp. Instead, he felt something stab him in his upper arm, only making him more panicked and desperate. Despite his efforts, he was thrown into the back of a van, fighting until the moment he inevitably passed out.

»»——⍟——««

Robin wasn’t sure what exactly woke him up, but when he did enough to be able to see, he found the man – his kidnapper, was sitting beside him. He now wore a mask, though, and ditched the whole outfit he was wearing earlier.

…It was still the same day, right?

Mostly out of instinct, Robin sat up and prepared himself to fight. But his vision only got more spotty, and his head felt like it was vibrating. He found he could hardly even breathe right, and suddenly became aware of every little function his body was performing.

“Oh good morning,” The man laughed lightheartedly, “Sorry about the whole uh… Needle situation, you are quite the fighter! You know you even kinda remind me of someone…”

Robin stared at the man for a few moments, slowly putting the pieces together in his head. He felt stupid in hindsight, realizing that this was The Grabber. The same man who had taken Griffin Stagg, Billy Showalter, Vance Hopper, Bruce Yamada… And now him.

“You’re… The fucking Grabber.”

“The who?” He laughed again, “Sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is.”

Robin slurred his words slightly, “Everyone knows The Grabber dumbass, he’s… Everywhere in the papers…”

“Hmm, must be some other guy.”

He only felt himself become more pissed off. As he tried to look around, the room spun, and he couldn’t get an exact idea of what to do. He was obviously drugged, but had no idea with what, or how long it would last.

“Th-they’re gonna find me… You can’t get away with this, you pedazo de mierda.”

“Aw, calm down… Nobody’ll find you down here, but I’ll let you go eventually anyways.”

“I don’t believe you…”

The Grabber laughed, “Well you don’t have to believe me, José.”

Robin scowled at the remark, trying to connect his body with his consciousness to get some kind of fight in him. It only worked for a few seconds at a time, before he just became dizzy and nauseous again.

“Well I’ll leave you to your own devices there for a little bit… To get yourself together, there.” The Grabber chuckled, “But don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I’ve just got to… Take care of something.”

“Vete al infierno, maldito pedo.”

The Grabber seemed to pause for a moment, but then went silent and left the basement, slamming the door behind him.

Robin leaned against the wall behind him, slowly starting to lose consciousness again.

»»——⍟——««

When Robin woke up again, he was less dizzy - not by a lot, but enough to get up and move around. It was also dark out now, as he could see from the window, and the entire basement was extremely dark. Of course the fucker would leave no kind of lighting down here… So he’d have to get up and walk extremely carefully, getting a close look.

Standing up from the bed, Robin moved his hand along the wall, feeling for anything notable, and found his hand touching something cold and hard hanging on the wall. He stopped and further investigated it, and getting closer, he realized it was a phone.

He knew there was no way The Grabber would leave him down here, alone with a working phone. There was a cord not connected to anything that just confirmed his suspicions. But still, he didn’t rule it out, and picked the phone up off the receiver. He heard nothing, but still tried to dial the three magic numbers.

Nothing. Obviously.

Robin felt stupid for even trying it.

Whatever - he had to continue investigating before that bastard came back down here.

In the dark, Robin couldn’t exactly find much of anything. A small hallway, a toilet, some random carpets… But nothing really useful to him right now. He figured he could get a better look and figure something out once it was daylight again. 

But honestly, he had no idea how long that would be. And he was starving.

It was weird - even to him - to find himself hoping that man would come down here. He hated it. The thought of that sick fuck made his skin crawl, but god was he hungry, and wanted to fight him.

If he was more on guard this time, he’d at least have a higher chance of winning this time.

Why was he so weak in that fight outside the van?

What did he do wrong?

Robin had no idea how long he was sitting there, rethinking the moment he was kidnapped, going through and criticizing his own every move. But, after however long it was, it was still dark out, and the basement lights had suddenly turned on.

He immediately stood and planted his feet, facing the door and clenching his fists tight, preparing himself mentally.

When the door opened, The Grabber walked through, holding a tray with a plate of eggs and some bottle of soda. The bottom half of his mask was now blank - a contrast from the smile he had on earlier.

“Well hi there. Are you up and ready for supper?”

“The fuck did you put in that?”

“Oh please, I’d have no reason to tamper with your food!” 

The Grabber laughed, now placing it down on the floor. “Now I know I promised to keep you some company, but I’ve got a few… Errands to run real quick, shouldn’t be longer than half an hour.”

Robin didn’t respond, staring at him as he waved.

“I’ll see you soon!”

The man left without another word. Robin was so glad to finally have something to eat that he almost didn’t notice that the door wasn’t shut all the way.

Walking closer, Robin paused. 

The door was unlocked.

This fucking dumbass left the goddamn door unlocked while leaving the house.

Knowing he’d end up having to run, Robin took advantage of the food that was left here, trying to get as much excess energy as he could. He had a limited time window so he ate and drank as fast as he ever had before, taking one more swig of faith before standing up and opening the door.

The basement entrance looked pretty fucking normal for a shithead creep of a person. It was unsettling, but he had absolutely no time to dwell on it, confidently walking up the stairs and swinging the door open once more. And only a few steps out, he paused, losing all color left in his face as he saw The Grabber sitting there, knowingly, waiting for the biggest fuckup of Robin’s life with a belt in hand.

Shit.

This was it, wasn’t it? He was going to die in this ugly fucking house and there was nothing he could do about it. 

He wouldn’t ever get to say goodbye to his mother. His sister.

To Finn.

Finn was probably worried sick, already paranoid about the local kidnapper, and had no one else aside from Gwen to defend him. They couldn’t have any more movie nights, or days at the arcade, or lazy days just watching TV or listening to music.

This was it.

But it didn’t have to be.

Robin planted his feet and raised his fists, watching as The Grabber approached.

“I didn’t say you could leave yet, did I? Naughty boy…”

And Robin tried. He was a great fighter - he could’ve sworn that he would’ve won at some points, but he just wasn’t enough. He was still a kid. Fighting Moose was different than fighting a 40 or 50 something year-old man.

It just wasn’t enough.

Robin wasn’t conscious through all of it. Similar to when he was drugged, he kept falling in and out of consciousness. The last solid memory he had was being grabbed and thrown down into the basement, hitting the floor with enough force to break skin in multiple places, and create a stabbing pain all throughout his head.

In the next moment, and for many after that, he felt himself being beaten brutally with that fucking belt. He’s never been in a fight that hurt this bad. Even his earlier ones weren’t this bad. It made sense though. Everyone he’s ever fought was around his age, and didn’t use belt buckles like some fucking creep.

There were points where he tried to fight back.

Robin did manage to get in at least a few good punches and kicks. He’d only wished he had enough strength to put him in a headlock or something. Anything that would give him some kind of advantage.

But he only grew weaker and more limp as he passed in and out. It got to the point where he had no more fight left in him. Physically, and mentally. He gave up. He’d done what he could, and still ended up failing. All he could think to do was try to space out or lose consciousness again as he felt himself be undressed and violated. He tried not to think about it. He tried to think of happier moments in his life than… This. He tried to remember his mother, sister, and uncle. When he had recently watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and had gotten the idea to invite Finn with his uncle, who was completely down to the idea. And how he and his mother would go shopping together when they got a decent sum of money. And how he and Cecelia would bicker, but always bounced back and defended each other. Like when Robin covered for her when she snuck out for that party. And of course, the few memories he had of his father, all held in the bandana he always wore.

And Finn.

He never really even got to tell Finn the truth - why he had lingering stares, and always wanted to hang out, and gave him good gifts nearly every suiting holiday despite not having a lot of money to buy them with.

Why he made that mixtape.

Despite that, Robin needed this to end now. He wasn’t strong enough for this kind of thing - he could’ve never prepared himself for something like this. All he knew at this point was that the more he fought, the more The Grabber got violent.

And he did have a knife with him, too.

The Grabber could end this for good if he were pushed far enough.

Robin did everything he could think of. He spit in the man’s face, bit him, kicked him, hit him, and tried to get away. He watched as the man’s temper worsened, despite the fact that the boy couldn’t even do any kind of damage in this state anyway. He was pissed and fed up with the inconveniences, and that much was easy to tell.

It didn’t feel quick, though.

He had always watched characters in movies die pretty quickly from stab wounds in the abdomen area, like how he was. But his death did not feel that fast. He could’ve sworn that he was laying there, bleeding out under The Grabber for hours.

But then again, he didn’t actually have a way of finding out.

Robin Miguel Arellano gave into the darkness, only wishing that Finn wouldn’t end up making the same mistake that he had.

»»——⍟——««

He found himself confused as he sat on the bed again, having to watch as his body was carried someplace else while he, himself, couldn’t actually leave. He tried to leave the basement, which shockingly worked, but he found himself stuck in the house. It was bullshit - he was dead for fuck’s sake, what more did the world want from him? Because god fucking forbid he check on Finn or his family.

Burying his head in his hands, he soon heard some soft voices approaching closer. He almost ignored it before he realized that all those other kids The Grabber had kidnapped were probably stuck here too, for god-knows how long. He… Wasn’t exactly thrilled to find out he had roommates, but it’d at least give him some company while he waited to… Move on? Or whatever was bound to happen after this.

He looked up and saw an array of four other kids. One of them was literally just that - a kid. He looked like he could’ve been in elementary school or something. Another was the local paperboy, and Cecelia’s boyfriend’s brother; Billy Showalter? The one who was sulking in the corner went to school with him, and got into a lot of fights. The kid standing right next to him was some baseball player he recognized from one of Finn’s games.

He was… Weirded out as he found out that he only remembered one of their names. And yet, as he tried to introduce himself with his own… Nothing came to mind.

How does someone forget their own name?

The new boy was frankly glad that he wasn’t alone in not remembering his own identity. The group seemed to have their own way of referring to each other though, and the system was working so far. They were… Weird nicknames, that was for sure, but it worked for the time being. Though he… Wasn’t exactly fond of his.

Hell, it was better than what The Grabber called him, though.

The new boy sighed, “So we just… Have to sit and wait?” 

“Basically,” The paperboy nodded, “Not like we have another choice. Trust me, we’ve all tried everything…”

“But I’m sure someone will come around and escape.” The baseball player added.

“That’s so… Morbid? And kinda sad.” 

“Well, we can’t do anything else about it.” The paperboy stood, looking at everyone sadly.

“We tried the phone with almost everyone, and no one ever hears it.” The kid mumbled.

The new boy was silent for a few moments, trying to take this all in. And it was… A lot, but he knew this couldn’t be it for them. Someone was bound to hear the phone, or outsmart The Grabber. He just… He had to be the last to die. He hoped to be, really. No one deserved to go through this. Not even the rockstar, who, although had a mean streak, was still a kid like the rest of them.

Despite all that, he didn't want to have to outgrow his nickname.

“But if the… Even if the next person hears the phone, what do we even tell him?”

Everyone looked at each other, confused.

“I guess we never really had the chance to think about it…” The kid shrugged.

Nodding, the new boy thought for a moment. “Well, let’s make a plan, then… If– when someone hears the phone ring, we need to be prepared. We can’t waste a life like that… Whoever he ends up being, we need a plan that works for him. Something versatile.”

“...I found out there’s a freezer full of meat in the storage room next to the bathroom.” The rockstar, who was sitting in the corner with the baseball player, mumbled.

Everyone looked over at him before he spoke again. “I think– I know he ended up putting a lock on it after he killed me, and he just got a dog. If he brings that thing down here to attack some kid, he could use that to his advantage.”

The new boy nodded, “That’s good, we could use that… Now we need something that could take that hijo de puta down.”

“What if he fell into a hole?” 

The words of the baseball player caught everyone off guard.

“...What?” The rockstar finally asked.

“No seriously! When I was down here, I dug a hole really deep to tunnel out, and that’s what… Y’know. But I struggled to get out of it when he caught me.”

“It could be a point of vulnerability,” The new boy nodded, “You’re right, that could work. But we need a way to get him in there. And… Well, keep him in there long enough.”

“What if they put the thing on the window in the hole?” The kid suggested.

“Yeah,” The baseball player nodded, “At an angle… That could probably get him stuck down there. Maybe even break his ankle if we’re lucky. And he has carpets, so the hole could be hidden in the meantime.”

“But wouldn’t that make it harder to get him stuck?” The new boy shook his head.

After a few moments, the paperboy sighed. “What if something tripped him and made him fall in?”

The new boy hesitated, “What do you mean?” 

“Well, I mean, I hid a cable, right in that wall over there.” He pointed to the wall opposite the bed, “If it’s set up a certain way, he’d surely fall in. But he’d probably have to be chasing his victim.”

“It could still work… I think. As long as whoever’s next thinks about it enough.”

“Yeah, if the next one hears it.” The paperboy said doubtfully. “What even really is the chance that someone hears it…?”

“Who knows?” The new boy shrugged, “But if there’s a chance someone does, we need to be prepared.”

Everyone was silent for a few moments as they all had a streak of hope in such a long time. All they really had to do was solidify their plan, and wait. It was simple enough. There was a reason they were all forced to be kept there, and this was why.

To break the pattern.

And to give that son of a bitch what he deserved.

»»——⍟——««

A few days in that basement felt like centuries. It was hardly tolerable, but the new boy had no other choice. Their only current option was to wait and get to know each other in that time. It sucked. Obviously. He couldn’t think of a situation that would suck any more than this. But, he was frankly just glad he wasn’t alone. He had four other people that had been through almost the exact same thing as him. And they all got along decently.

It could’ve been worse.

In the few days the new boy had been there, he noticed something… Crucial about the rockstar and the baseball player. Something he would’ve ignored under normal circumstances.

Those “normal circumstances” being if he didn’t think he was in love with his best friend when he was still alive. 

The new boy and the baseball player found themselves in a rare moment of being alone together upstairs, watching the neighborhood from the window as everyone else was downstairs.

After many moments of hesitation, the new boy finally spoke.

“Hey um… I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah sure, what’s up?” The baseball player turned to him.

Taking a deep breath, he avoided eye contact. “So you and uh, rockstar… You guys are like, dating right?”

“Yeah…” He almost seemed scared to answer, “Why?”

“I-I’m not against it or anything, I promise it’s nothing like that.”

The baseball player seemed relieved by this, “Oh, cool.”

“I was just wondering… How did you know?”

“That I like guys?” He thought for a moment. “Well… I dunno. I mean, it all started when I first met him, I think. I noticed one day that he always had a bandana in his back left pocket. So I did some… Research… And figured out what it meant.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s… Basically a discreet way of saying you’re queer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So I ended up making a move on him one day. Then we started sneaking out and seeing each other and… Yeah. We started dating. I never knew what it was about him. Everyone else was scared of him, y’know? But… He never scared me. I never feel threatened, and he makes me feel… Like nothing else matters. And I get this weird feeling in my stomach whenever I see him… I think, in your heart, deep down, you just know.”

The new boy was silent for a while, thinking as he looked out the window into the street. He knew this feeling all too well, and it made his heart feel heavy. The silence was only broken when the baseball player spoke again.

“Why do you ask?”

“...I think I’m queer too. I think… I was in love with my best friend.”

»»——⍟——««

A gust of both sadness and hope flew into the new boy’s soul when he heard that another person had been kidnapped, only a week after he had been. Everything in him was crushed and filled with despair when he saw who The Grabber’s next victim was, though. Everyone else noticed when he was at a full stop, watching the sixth victim sleep on the tattered mattress.

“Hey, what’s wrong…?” The baseball player slowly asked.

“It’s him… He fucking got Finn…”

By then, the new boy had told everyone about his best friend. The baseball player, though, was the only one who knew how much this guy actually meant to him.

At that moment, the new boy felt as if he had failed Finn. Sure, he technically didn’t know that he’d be next… And he had no way of warning him. Or protecting him. But something must’ve gone wrong somewhere, where he could’ve done something. Finn was terrified of the idea of The Grabber - he wouldn’t even speak the name - and he was cautious. Always. 

So what could've happened in the time he was gone?

Had Finn grown careless or rebellious after his disappearance?

Without a second thought, the new boy picked up the phone and called. But, it seemed like Finn was deep asleep from whatever drugs The Grabber had been giving them all.

“We’ll try again.” The new boy said with a tremble in his voice. “We’ll try again when he’s awake.”

»»——⍟——««

After the last call, the new boy - Robin - was noticeably more quiet. He had to come to terms with the fact that this was the last conversation he’d ever have with Finn. And that this was the most closure either of them would ever get. It was fucking devastating. And all he could do was watch, and hope, and root for him. 

Just as he told him to do, Finn practices for hours, and just as Robin promised, he never left his side. There were moments in those few days where he couldn’t bear to be down there in that basement while that… That man hurt him. As much as he did want to be there with him the entire time, he couldn’t just stand there and watch everything while being unable to stop it. It made him too angry. Too sad. It was too much - to go through it himself, and to watch the boy he fell for go through the same. 

When that fight did finally end, Robin couldn’t be more proud of him.

Out of everyone there, he was so glad that Finn was the one to have not only survived, but killed that bastard.

It was all he could’ve hoped for.

All he could do now was follow Finn up the basement stairs and hope he’d finally be able to leave and follow his best friend to safety with the others following behind them.

Robin squinted at the light - which frankly, wasn’t even really bright, as it was still fall - but took a moment to adjust as he finally left the house. Though, he knew that everyone else was trapped in that place for much longer. Still, it was a lot to adjust to, even after two weeks. 

Across the street, where The Grabber supposedly kept the bodies, police officers and EMT’s came out with stretchers that had full body bags on them. He had honestly expected to move onto whatever was next at that moment, but was too focused on Finn to listen to the conversation the others were having across the street. He only followed as Gwen and Finn were reunited.

Robin smiled very softly, his heart fluttering as he finally realized that Finn was safe from everything that happened within the last year. He didn’t have to worry anymore - the boy was able to take care of himself now, and that’s all he’s ever wanted since he realized he wasn’t leaving that basement alive.

He didn’t even realize he was starting to fade away until the kid spoke to him.

Robin wasn’t… Exactly fond of the fact he didn’t seem to have a choice in when his soul was going to move on. Even though Finn was safe, he still wanted to be there. He wanted to stay with his friend, just as his father had done in ‘Nam. 

But making a fuss over it wasn’t going to change anything.

It was his time.

He hid this disdain he held as he said his goodbyes to the friends he’d made in the past two weeks. It was weird being the last to arrive and first to leave, but he was sure they’d be able to handle themselves now too, until it was time for all of them to leave. 

And in a weird way, he’d miss them.

Robin went back to Finn in his last moments, watching him, remembering all the good times they had before this. All the years of friendship. He was sad he wasn’t able to see him grow more - that they wouldn’t be able to grow together. They wouldn’t be going into high school together, or graduate, or drink together for the first time. 

But no matter what happened in the moments leading up to Finn’s own death, Robin would still wait with open arms. Even if he took another person to prom, or married someone else, or had his own kids. Even if he didn’t know the truth, and never would. Robin was okay with that. Or, at least, he knew he had to be.

“I love you, Finn.”

Next

Chapter Index

[elavita]

11/26/2022 - Stagnant

Life was pretty unimportant today. I really had nothing going on.

I did a little more schoolwork and studied for an upcoming test while babysitting.

I am still recovering from the amount of money I have spent over the past couple of days. It is still super hard for me to spend a ton of money period. I only do it for people in my life that I care about. So, during the Holidays, I go all out. I think this may have beat my record, and I am still technically not done. Almost done shopping though.

I ate really good today. No issues at all. Snacked more than I should have though. I need to eat more protein rich foods instead of carb heavy food. I love carbs though.

I am planning my move abroad currently to either the UK or Ireland. I just need to get out of America for a little bit. I can't stand the political system here. I just don't think it's currently working for the American people. And really, in modern times it hasn't ever. There are too many special interest groups paying off politicians. I am sick of it.

Not really sure how long I want to stay. I might stay for graduate school. Either I will study at Trinity if I move to Ireland, or I will study at the University of Edinburgh or Cambridge in the UK if I stay to work on my MBA. I believe I have the grades to suffice to get in to all those colleges.

Ideally, I would like to live in the UK, particularly the greater London area. I wouldn't need a car, and I can travel anywhere from a quick train ride in the Chunnel to Calais.

I have never been to the UK though, so I get asked, "How do you know that you will like it?". To this I say, "Well it's like trying brussels sprouts for the first time, you either like it or you don't". And if I don't like it, I can just move back to the US to finish my MBA. I would probably move back to the US at some point. I would like to live somewhere down south, possibly Florida or Texas. Lots of good engineering jobs are in Florida and Texas now. I just want to experience Europe. Life is too short. Plus, hey, maybe I'll be able to get that cute blond-haired blue-eyed Dutch boy of my dreams named Augustijn. But one can only dream.

I am going to watch a tutorial right now on how to draw bodies using pencil and paper. I will post my results tomorrow.

Good night!

~ Finn

[twilightciel]

New WIP! My friend Israel and I finished our rough passes (he worked on finn/jake, I worked on fionna/cake)

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Tis a Wild Universe - 4

Warning: Self Insert and artistic liberties!

Yes, this is probably a dead/dying fandom, but I will never let it go. So yeah … I am probably talking to a wall with this fic. Which is fine by me, as long as I can talk.

Charley’s cousin is in dire need of some help, which the bro’s are willing to provide. Especially Modo develops the feels for her. Limburger is interested in the girl for entirely other reasons, especially in using her against our Hero’s.

But eventually Limburger and also the bro’s go back to Mars, taking along two human women and a few plant species to revitalize the red planet. The war wages on and it seems Throttle is finally taking his role at the helm of the ship.

Ch 1 - Finns That Reach Far

Ch 2 - The Reek of Cheese Ch 3 - Poison Tadpoles

Ch 4 - It’s the End of the Beginning

The rest of the week flies by as if propelled by a Martian speedrocket. Tessa becomes anxious. The mice can’t blame her. What if Limburger wins the court case!?!

The Mice dress up for court again. Charley wears a blue blouse and a black skirt. Tessa, to emulate an innocent aura puts on a white pencil skirt and a lime green blouse. She takes out all her piercings and even puts on a little mascara. “Well, do I look like a good girl?” She spins a circle for the mice. “A bit too innocent for my taste.” Vinnie says. “I do like the skirt.” Throttle says with a husky chuckle. “Yeah, those hips don’t lie.” Modo smirks. Tessa blushes a little.

Everyone is really silent during the drive to the court house. Modo keeps turning in the passenger's seat to look at Tessa. It feels as if this is the last time they will see each other.

Once in the courthouse, a clerk informs the Mice that Limburger requested they not enter the courtroom. “We are here to support our friend, we have all the right.” Throttle replies calmly. The clerk looks rather helpless, but doesn’t want to cross these three helmeted muscular individuals. Tessa heads into the courtroom. Charley and the mice follow her in.

Limburger spots the mice and his face sours considerably. “I thought I ordered you to keep those repulsive rodents out of here!” He shouts. “Sorry, Mister Limburger, but the law of this land states that we are allowed to support our friend, unless the judge himself orders us out of the courtroom.” Throttle says in his most charming tone of voice. Limburger looks like he wants to murder the tan furred leader right then and there. Throttle knows exactly the effect his words have. He chuckled huskily.

“We’ll be here, be brave.” He tells Tessa. Modo leans in to kiss the werewolf on her forehead. “Thanks.” She whispers. The clerk leads her to the stand. The mice and Charley sit down behind her.

The judge is a different one. He calls for order with a firm voice.

“After careful deliberation and testing from the forensic lab, we have concluded that the species of Wolfsbane Miss Lockheart is only toxic in high dosages and is used medicinally in China. Therefore her purchase of this plant is not illegal and no cause for further investigation.” The judge cuts right to the chase. Limburger and Syl look as though they have just been forced to eat something disgusting. The Mice exchange a grin.

“But your honour, she was on the Black Market.” Syl protests. “Visiting the Black Market is not illegal.” The Judge says strictly. “I demand a mental evaluation!” Syl screeches. “The court sees no reason to.” The Judge dismisses her. “Lawrence Limburger will be denied custody. Miss Lockheart is a legal adult! Case dismissed!” The Judge says loudly.

Cheering, the Mice leap over the railing of their seats. Modo takes Tessa by her hips and spins her around. “That went eerily quickly.” Throttle says. “I think the Judge just wanted to be done with this rubbish.” Tessa says, while Modo puts her back down. He keeps one hand on her hip. Throttle gives him a bit of a strict look. “I think we ought to celebrate!” Vinnie says loudly. “I know just the place.” Tessa happily looks up at the mice and her aunt.

Outside the courthouse, however, Greasepit and Carbuncle are waiting. No Goons, fortunately.

Greasepit waits until they have passed them by and then reaches out. His oily hand closes around Tessa’s wrist. Tessa gives a startled yip. The mice whip around. “Let her go Greasegullet.” Modo aims for Greasepit’s head with the gun in his arm. “Not so fast mousey, if you shoot at me, I will take her down with me.” Greasepit grins. Modo lowers his arm.

He walks over to Greasepit. “Unhand her.” He says loudly. A few bystanders look at him over their shoulders. “What is the matter, mousey, too scared to shoot me?” Greasepit taunt. “I promised the ladies I’d not make a mess.” And with those words Modo raises his foot and punts Greasepit full on in the nuts. Whimpering Greasepit goes down, letting Tessa go. Modo puts hand on the small of Tessa’s back. Swiftly he leads her away from Greasepit, to the car.

Tessa navigates Charley to a cute little pub.

The five of them sit in a corner and the mice take off their helmets. “Now let me spoil you a little.” Tessa says. She goes over to the bar. She orders five bottles of Kopparberg ElderFlower and Lime. The bartender sets five bottles on the counter and opens them. Tessa has to do two walks to get the bottles to the table. Her hands are rather small and the bottles on the larger side and it would be an absolute sin to spill Kopparberg. “Hmm, what is this sweetheart?” Vinnie asks. “Cider.” Tessa sits down beside Modo. Throttle lifts a bottle to his beady little nose and smells. “Lime and … Something flowery.” He says. Charley holds up her own bottle and points at the label. “Elderflower, heh, okay.” Throttle says sheepishly. “This is with flowers?” Vinnie sounds almost disappointed. “Just try it bro.” Modo takes a swig. Tessa looks up at him expectantly. “Do you like it?” She asks softly. Modo nods. “I sure do.” He grins down on her. Tessa takes a swig from her own bottle. Throttle and Vinnie both try a tentative sip. “Yeah, it is good.” Throttle admits. “But.. but, flowers.” Vinnie’s ears droop. Throttle and Modo chuckle. “Such a dent to your ego.” Charley mocks.

Soon enough, Tessa retrieves a big plate of nachos with pulled pork. “No cheese, special for me boys.” She cooes. The mice dig in right away. Charley giggles behind her hand.

“So, will you come to Chicago with us?” Throttle asks gently. Tessa looks from the tan mouse, to her aunt, to the grey and last the white and then back to the tan mouse. “It would mean I’d leave behind everything here. The pack, my friends, the stables… The house I grew up in.” She mutters. “That much is true.” Throttle admits. “But you’d have us.” Modo looks down on the red haired woman. “Yeah, I’d have you.” Tessa nods. Her shoulders are tensely set. The last isn’t yet said about this. “Did you see Limburger’s face when he lost the case?” Vinnie tries to change the subject. “Yeah, that ought to teach him not to mess with anyone we care about.” Modo puffs his chest out. One of the buttons of his shirt decides to just entirely give up and pops off. It hits Vinnie square on the forehead. “Oops, sorry bro.” Modo chuckles. Throttle and Charley are laughing loudly, but Vinnie does not look amused. Tessa picks the button off the table. “I’ll sow it back on at home.” She puts it in her purse.

~

Once at home, the mice shed their shirts. Modo hands his to Tessa. His hand touches hers briefly. They exchange a bit of a grin. Tessa clutches the shirt and once Modo is turned away from her she brings it to her face and inhales his scent. “Buuuusted.” Vinnie singsongs. Tessa almost jumps out of her skin. “Don’t startle me like that.” She huffs. “No worries little red.” Vinnie winks and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “So, you into the big fella, huh?” He cooes. Tessa flusters darkly. “Bugger off.” She hisses. “Ooooh touchy.” Vinnie lets go of her and walks off, likely to tattle to Modo.

“I’m going to the shop!” Tessa says loudly. Modo, having put his chestguard back on, comes over to her. “Can I come?” He asks gently. “S-sure.” Tessa stutters. Tessa toes into her shoes and Modo puts on his boots. On foot they head out to the town center. It is only a ten minute walk. They walk in silence. A silence that wasn’t awkward before, but is now. Modo looks over to the young werewolf, but looks away when she looks up at him. His ears droop, a tiny bit. Tessa plays with the wolf head pendant on her necklace.

“How about bbq?” Tessa asks, bending over to grab a pack of ribs. She is still wearing her pencil skirt. Modo has to grit his back teeth not to grunt in appreciation of what it shows off. “Bbq sounds good.” He does his best to sound casual. Tessa puts some burgers, sausages and ribs into the shopping basket. “That is not enough.” Modo shakes his head. He grabs two more packs of sausages and one more pack of hamburger. “I am sort of surprised you three maintain that spartan physique.” Tessa remarks. “Martian Metabolism, princess.” Modo winks. “Big words.” Tessa sniggers. The two load their basket with everything Tessa judges they need for a nice bbq in the garden, plus a bit extra because Modo doesn’t think it will be enough.

On their way back home, Modo stops in his tracks. Tessa picks up on it after two steps and turns around to him. “What is the matter, luv?” She asks. Modo heaves a bit of a sigh and decides to get over himself and forgo what Vinnie and Throttle said to him a few days ago. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me.” He says. “You mean, like a date?” Tessa asks. Modo nods. “Only if you want to.” He murrs. Tessa closes the distance between them. “I’d love to Modo.” She smiles up at him. “How about we go to the Zoo?” She suggests. “Sure, when?” He replies. “Tomorrow.” Is her determined answer.

~

“Hey bro, what are you grinning about?” Vinnie flops down beside Modo. The grey mouse is seated in one of the garden chairs, enjoying the sun, beaming back up at it. He turns to face his friend. “I am going on a date tomorrow.” He says casually. Vinnie gives him wide eyes. “What? Really?” His voice goes up at least two octaves. Modo grins widely and nods. “Tessa and I are going to the zoo tomorrow.” He replies. “You lucky mouse you.” Vinnie says. Throttle sits down with his bro’s. “What is going on? Keeping secrets from me?” He asks in a teasing tone. “Oh no not at all. You are perfectly welcome to know.” Modo answers. “Do tell, do tell.” Throttle reclines in his seat. “He’s going on a date with little red!” Vinnie shouts. Throttle draws up his brows. “Is that so?” He asks. Modo calmly nods. “Yup.” He replies. “You choose not to heed my advice?” Throttle sighs softly. “As much as I appreciate your advice, brother, I think I know what I am doing.” Modo replies gently. “You’re damn lucky, you know. It took me over a year and here we are, barely two weeks and you go ahead and Mr. Smooth yourself into a date.” Vinnie complains. Both Modo and Throttle laugh. “Like Martian Ladies, Vinnie, Terranian Ladies are all different, some take more work than others.” Modo says smugly. “Yeah and it does seem to me Modo works it a bit better.” Throttle admits. Vinnie gives the leader a miffed look. Modo sniggers to himself.

~

“Aunt Charley, I need to talk to you.” Tessa says. Charley looks at her niece. The two women are prepping for the bbq in the kitchen. It seemed wiser to them to keep the mice out of the kitchen. Their overeagerness wouldn’t be too safe in close proximity to knives and the stove. “Have you made a choice?” Charley asks. “Not yet… But tomorrow might change that.” Tessa mumbles. “Which is what I need your help with.” She looks at her hands. “Oh, do tell.” Charley comes over to her side of the counter. “I’m taking Modo to the Zoo tomorrow.” Tessa admits, flustered a little bit. “Already?” Charley sounds a bit alarmed. “It might be my only chance.” Tessa says. “Yeah, you are right.” Charley heaves a soft sigh. She realizes Tessa will likely not come along to Chicago. And how this is going to likely hurt Modo. “Sooo.. is that what you needed to talk to me about?” She asks. “I .. I wanted to know … What does Modo like?” Tessa mumbles. “Well, erm..” Charley makes a thoughtful face. “I think you should just be yourself. And wear skinny jeans.” She suggests. “That is no can’t do.” Tessa giggles.

Half an hour later the girls bring out the food.

All three mice are shirtless. Modo has already lit the bbq. “Are you hot shots ready for some grillin’.” Tessa says loudly. The bro’s turn to her, big grins on their muzzles. “We always are.” Vinnie says. “Welp, sit your tails down then.” Tessa puts the salad and the baguettes on the table and places the meats beside the grill. “No no, not today, you sit, we’ll do the grillin’.” Modo says. Tessa puts her hands up in surrender. “Sure sure, just make sure you don’t burn my ear of corn.” She cooes teasingly. “I won’t, I won’t, now sit.” Modo tells her. The girls sit down while the mice squabble over who gets to mind the grill. Throttle and Vinnie soon retake their seats. “Let the family man grill if he so pleases.” Throttle says wisely. Tessa and Charley giggle in unison.

Much more laughter follows. The evening is spent in the garden, grilling, drinking and basking in the sun until it sinks past the horizon. All the meat gets eaten, much to Tessa’s surprise. The Mice tell a great many tales of their escapades on Mars. Vinnie boasts of his prowess in about everything. Tessa believes only half of it. “Does that helmet fit on your swollen head, dear uncle.” She cooes. Vinnie gives her an annoyed look. Charley titters a giggle and runs her fingers over the fur under Vinnie’s chin. That takes the steam out of him for sure. He even seems to purr a little bit. “How about we get someone else’s perspective?” Tessa cooes. “Let Throttle tell the stories, he’s much better at it.” Modo says. Vinnie pouts a bit. “How he is supposed to make himself out to be the very best now.” Throttle sniggers. “Just get to it.” Vinnie huffs.

Throttle tells of Mars, of the war and of the great mice he knew. Tessa is especially interested in his relationship with Carbine. This seems to make Throttle a little bit shy, which is new. Throttle is not at all a shy mouse.

He misses Carbine. More than words may serve him to express. He knows his duty is to remove Limburger from Earth, but he can’t count the times that he has been ready to just leave it behind and go back to Mars. Carrying on a relationship when you are both on different planets is not easy. Throttle knows Carbine will be as loyal to him as he to her.

Martian Cave Mice are very loyal creatures. Family units will fight to the death to defend each other and partners bond for life. For Throttle there is no one but Carbine. There never was and there never will be in case she passes in the war. Throttle tries not to think of the possibility that she will be fatally harmed while he is away from Mars. Of course, Carbine is a strong woman and she knows how to hold her own in battle, but those scum fishes are something else.

It is even a small wonder Vinnie managed to lose his heart to Charley. It would have been just as likely that he would have never moved on from Harley.

Modo regales a few tales about Rimfire and his mother. Tessa hangs on his lips. Modo is quite flattered by this, so he tries to tell as much as he can. To keep her primed.

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Tessa says, in a tone of voice that says she knows she will. Modo can’t help a wicked, wide grin. “That might take a while, but we’ll eventually get there.” He says. “Yeah or your ma is the next that crashes into the scoreboard.” Vinnie jokes. Throttle, Vinnie and Charley laugh loudly. Tessa gives the white martian a confused look.

“When we first landed in Chicago, we crashed our ship into the scoreboard of the baseball station.” Throttle explains. Tessa giggles. “I picture that.” She cooes. “Say, what did you do with that ship anyway?” She asks. “We stripped it for parts.” Throttle replies. “Such a pity, now we are, factually, without a ride home.” Modo sighs softly. Throttle puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find a way, big fella.” He says. “Something with some room for the girls too.” Vinnie agrees.

~~~

The next day, Modo tries to make something of himself. Tessa lends him some of her father’s clothes. Surprisingly they fit. They are kind of tight, but that somehow suits Modo. It makes him look a bit more befitting of polite British society, overlooking of course the fact that he is an extra-terrestrial mouse. Tessa is dressed in a colourful sundress and roman style sandals. Modo can’t help but stare. Tessa giggles, taking him by his hand. “Come on you, we have to catch our bus.” She says. Modo allows her to draw him down the stairs and out of the house.

They are only just in time for the bus. Tessa buys them both a retour fare.

Tessa shows her year pass and buys an extra ticket for Modo, with discount, of course.

“I know it is usual, here on Earth, that the man pays for at least the first date, but…” Modo makes a slightly nervous impression. Tessa shakes her head. “Oh no, Modo. Don’t say that, luv. You are a guest here, you are my guest. I have the home field advantage anyway.” She smiles up at him. Gently she takes his hand. “Come, let me show you around.” She says. Modo grins down on her, a playful, lopsided grin. Tessa happily laughs and tugs him along to the first enclosure. Small monkeys screech and hop around in the large cage.

Modo is very interested in Terranian fauna. And Tessa happens to know a lot about the animals at the zoo. She even knows the names of some of the animals. “Did you know this zoo is the only zoo in Europe that is licensed to keep Komodo Dragons.” Tessa informs Modo. “Dragons? I thought they were fictional.” Modo gives her a puzzled look. Tessa laughs loudly. “The Komodo Dragon is a type of lizard. Not an actual dragon. But the people who discovered them were very unfamiliar with such big lizards. And science was very rudimentary back then, so it is likely people at that time still believed in dragons.” Tessa explains. “Much like werewolves?” Modo retrotts. “Touché.” Tessa mumbles. She takes Modo to the Komodo Dragon enclosure. The large monitor lizards are lying about under their heat lamps. “Now these don’t really look like dragons.” Modo says. “They belong to the family of the monitor lizards.” Tessa explains.

Modo only lets go of Tessa’s hand once they sit down for lunch by the tiger’s enclosure. Tessa retrieves them two plates of chips. “Are you having fun?” She asks. Modo chuckles softly. “Are you kidding? I would have fun even if we were spending the day in your basement.” Modo answers. That causes Tessa to fluster. She turns her eyes to her plate. Modo gently cups his chin with thumb and forefinger, his metal touch raises gooseflesh on Tessa’s skin. Alas the sitting arrangement does not allow for anything else. He makes her look up at him. “You are hella cute when you blush.” He says softly. Tessa looks at his wrist rather than in his eye.

“My eyes are up here, Princess.” Modo says teasingly. Tessa’s eyes flick up. The blue is deep and Modo feels himself being sucked in again. It makes him a bit dizzy, he feels out of breath.

Modo leans over to close the distance. The kiss is clumsy. It has been a while since he had last had intimate contact with anyone, and never before with someone who is so anatomically different from him. Tessa does not pull away, though. She experimentally reciprocates. She is new to kissing martian cave mice in her turn. Modo breaks away too soon to her taste. She whines like a pup. Modo looks down on her, still a little bit dazed. “I … sorry… I didn’t mean..” He sputters. Tessa makes a shushing sound. She grabs him by the front of the shirt and draws him in for another kiss. Modo kisses back and seems to make some sort of purring sound inside his chest.

After lunch they continue their way through the zoo.

Tessa halts on a bridge beside open forest enclosures. She leans her elbows on the rail and gazes to the little platforms that Modo guesses it is for the animals that live in the enclosures. She whistles a very specific whistle. It reminds Modo a little bit of the tone he uses to summon his bike. It makes him wish he was back in Chicago.

A fluffy medium dog sized animal climbs up to the platform at top speed. “Heya buddy.” Tessa cooes. “What is that?” Modo frowns at the animal. It’s fluffy with black and white fur, in a pattern that could be called striped, in some stretch of the imagination. It has a long prehensile tail and muzzle that is mostly canine, but also somehow serpentine. “It is a striped Vari. A lemur, cousin to King Julian.” Tessa explains. “He sure looks more gnarly than King Julian.” Modo chuckles. “I like this one better than Julian. I bet he is much softer.” Tessa says.

~~~

“How do you think Modo’s doing?” Vinnie asks. “You can ask him yourself bro.” Throttle points. Modo and Tessa enter the garden. “Did you two lovebirds have fun?” Charley cooes. Tessa and Modo exchange a look and smile at each other. “It was wonderful.” Tessa says softly. Modo nods, still looking at her. “Come sit and tell us all about it.” Charley ushers them over to where Vinnie and Throttle sits. “Let me first get a drink.” Tessa protests a little. “I’ll do that, you two sit down.” Charley tells her. Modo and Tessa sit by the other two martians. “Tell us everything.” Vinnie all but demands. “I like Earth wildlife a lot better than Martian wildlife.” Modo says. No way he is actually going to spill the deets to Vinnie. “That is not what I am talking about!” Vinnie yells. “I know.” Modo says with a small smirk. “Had a good time, bro?” Throttle asks. He doesn’t pry, unlike Vincent. “Yeah, it was great.” Modo says. Charley puts two bottles of Koparberg down and flops down in her seat. Modo pulls the caps from the bottles with his cybernetic fingers. He hands Tessa one bottle and takes a swig from the other. “So are you two going to tell us anything?” Charley asks. Modo and Tessa exchange a look. “It was a lot of fun.” Tessa answers, putting her hand on Modo’s tight. Modo feels his face warm up and looks away.

“All good and well, but we have things to talk about.” Throttle says. “Going home.” Modo says. “To Chicago.” Throttle replies, in a tone that tells that The Windy City isn’t really his home. “Yeah, we can’t stay much longer.” Charley says. She has to go back to work and Limburger likely already went back to the US. Modo almost bodily turns to Tessa. “What will you do?” He asks gently. Tessa looks up at him and then looks to Charley, Throttle and Vinnie in turn. “You’d be safer with us.” Modo tries to advocate his case. “Hey! I can handle myself just fine.” Tessa sounds a little bit insulted. “Please, don’t underestimate the Plutarkians.” Throttle tells her gently. Tessa looks away, as though he has scolded her. Modo places two fingers under Tessa’s chin and makes her look up at her. “Princess, all we want is to know you safe. And the closer to us you are, the safer.” He murmurs. Tessa’s cheeks turn pink. “Now tell us, what will you do?” Throttle asks. Tessa worms away from Modo’s touch to look at the leader. Briefly her blue eyes become red. “I …” She bites her lip. The Mice tense up, leaning closer. Modo looms over her. His sole eye looks at her almost pleadingly. This causes Tessa to get stuck in a giggle fit.

“I am so sorry luv, you just look so pitiful.” She hides her mouth behind her hand and clutches her belly with her other. “We are still waiting for an answer!” Vinnie says, a bit loud. Tessa tries to get a hold of herself. “I am so sorry, I just..” Tessa says through a gale of giggles. Once she manages to compose herself, she smooths out her skirt and looks at her hands, which are in her lap still. “I … I’ll come..” She mumbles. “With us? To Chicago?” Modo sounds hopeful. “And whatever else you may go.” Tessa says. She looks up at him again.

He closes the distance. It is only a quick kiss. Vinnie whistles between his teeth. Throttle and Charley exchange a mildly worried look.

[afoolandathief]

Last line tag

So, a few days ago I believe both @ayzrules and @jezifster tagged me, but I was editing a chapter and had nothing new to share. Now I do, so please have some Fenrir and Loki nonsense in THHT (TW for discussion of parent/grandparent death):

The pencil snapped against the answer sheet again, this time splintering its wooden tip. Fenrir furiously shoved it into the sharpener when Mrs. Weaver came up to him.

“Finn Lucas,” she said, her wrinkled face curling into a smirk. Fenrir swore she always seemed amused whenever she said his name. “You will have to finish your test at another time. Your father is here to pick you up.”

Fenrir blinked and tried to understand what she was talking about, but Mrs. Weaver had already dragged his test away from him and was shooing him out of the classroom. He grabbed his backpack from his locker and headed towards the front entrance, where he saw his father standing next to Principal Wilcox.

Loki was twisting their hands together, their face crumpled and wet with tears. Fenrir’s stomach curdled. He was about to ask what was going on, when his dad raced forward and planted themself against him in a hug.

“Oh, son!” they wailed, taking a shuddering breath. “I don’t know how to tell you, but, grandpa, he — he passed on.”

Fenrir stood in silence as his dad peeled themself off of him and blew their nose loudly before turning to his principal.

“I hope you don’t mind me picking my boy up early,” they said. “We just really need the family together, right now.”

Principal Wilcox nodded, his caterpillar eyebrows knitting together.

“Of course,” he said. “My condolences to you and your family.”

“Thank you,” Loki squeaked out, putting their arm over Fenrir’s shoulder and leading him through the double doors.

The late-morning sun was shining down on the blacktop outside. A layer of steam rose from the asphalt, soaked from an overnight rainstorm.

Fenrir turned to his dad.

“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” he asked.

Loki glanced back at the school before pulling away from him. They wiped the wetness from their face with their shirtsleeve and grinned.

“Tears always make people uncomfortable, pup,” they said. “Makes it a lot easier to pull something.”

Tagging, if you'd like, @the-orangeauthor, @nectargrapes, and @diphthongsfordays.

[pineappletheatrekid]

Glee Characters as things my bio class has said

Puck:"If you drink bleach and beer at the same time would you be fine?"

Blaine:"The girl scouts sell cookies the boy scouts sell MULCH. What the hell?? I can't eat mulch."

Wes talking to the Warblers:"Do whatever you want (legal activities only) for the next 15 minutes"

Brittany:"I don't believe in vegetarians"

Finn:"Who even needs amino acids?" Kurt:"Um... The human race???"

Blaine:"I am not growing, I have been the same height since I was ten"

Sam:"Proteins are LIT"

Sam:"There are at least 4 atoms in the human body"

Santana:"Humans, like the cell membrane, are selectively permeable, a knife will pass through, while a dull pencil usually won't."

Brittany:"Let's divorce gravity so that we can fly"

Will:"This test will not affect your grade" Rachel:"It'll affect my self-worth!"

Puck:"My last science teacher said she wanted to kill me"

Sam:"How many apple pies tall is that tree?"

Brittany:"Hippos go moooooo"

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 16

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 16: Some news comes to Amelia and she’s not sure how to handle it without Tommy by her side. 

            Two more months went by. Amelia heard often from Tommy. Every week or two she received a letter and replied immediately. She told him about everything she could think of. Anything that might bring a smile to his face, to ease his burden. Whatever she could do to remind him of home and give him hope for the future. She told him the funny things Max did, the little quirks in his blossoming personality.

            He refuses to go to bed unless I’ve checked under his bed for monsters. I think Finn might have been telling him some stories.

            He’s fascinated by baby Wilbur. I don’t think he believes me when I tell him he was a baby once. His reasoning is, if he can’t remember it, it never happened. I showed him the photograph of when he was a baby, only six months old. He couldn’t be convinced that it was him.

            It’s strange. It feels so long ago, yet, it only feels like it was yesterday. I often wonder where all that time went.

 ~~~~~~

            “Breakfast, Mel?” Martha was in the kitchen when Amelia and Max came into Six Watery.

            She went to answer that, no she wasn't feeling very well so she didn't have much of an appetite. But instead, she was immediately hit with a strong smell. Her stomach turned and she dropped Max’s hand so she could rush upstairs to the bathroom.

            Polly heard retching from down the hall, so went to investigate. “Oh, heavens.” She found Amelia at the toilet. “Easy.” She soothed and pulled the young woman’s hair back away from her face. Dread came over the woman as she realized her earlier intuitions were confirmed. “Dear, I think you and I need to have a talk.”

 ~~~~~~~

            “Letter, Tom.”

            Tommy took the letter from the passing soldier and felt relief wash over him. The same relief he got every time Amelia’s letters arrived. Despite being in the middle of trench warfare, he had her letters to keep him sane.

            Tommy,

            I must admit it hasn’t gotten much easier these last few weeks. I still miss you more than I can ever describe. Everything reminds me of you. Max always asks for you. It’s hard to bear sometimes. But I manage to get through every day.

            I have news. I want so desperately to be happy but I’m so heartbroken that you aren’t here so I can tell you in person. But Polly believes I’m pregnant. It may be too early to know, but I don’t want to question her either. The signs seem to match up with the timing.

            I don’t know how to feel any more if I’m being honest. I need to hear back from you as soon as possible. I hope you and everyone else is safe. I miss you all. I will write you a longer letter when I've gathered my thoughts. But for now, I needed you to hear the news. 

            Love, Amelia

             Tommy wasn’t sure what to say as he stared blankly at his wife's handwriting. The urgency he felt to return home was only heightened. He carefully folded up the letter and put it in his rucksack.

            “Tom?” Arthur was sitting nearby, his back up against the wall of the trench.

            “Mel’s pregnant.” He replied before his brother even needed to ask what was wrong.

            He frowned and passed his brother a cigarette. “You think she’s going behind your back while you’re away?”

            “No.” Tommy shook his head adamantly. He took the cigarette and lit it with a match. “She’d never do that. Never. It makes sense, I suppose.” He mumbled to himself. “She’d be about three months along.”

            Arthur nodded. “Well, guess we can try to get you back by the time the baby’s born.” He smiled slightly, trying to give his brother hope.

            But there was little hope left in the trenches. In those damn tunnels. At that point, Tommy could only hope he found his way back to Birmingham alive. Asking for anything else would be wishful.

   ~~~~~~~~~~        

            Around five at night, Polly closed up the betting shop. The other girls had gone home but Martha and Amelia remained.

            “Well, Pol, you did say she could have the next baby,” Martha said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. In all other times, the news of a baby would be such a happy occasion. But those days, nothing seemed to be good news.

            Amelia tried to laugh but she couldn’t even muster a smile. Every muscle in her body felt heavy. There was no use trying anymore. “I feel like such a monster.” She mumbled.

            “Why?” Her sister-in-law asked.

            “Because I don’t want to be pregnant.” She put down her pencil to rub her tired eyes. “I don’t want to be pregnant without Tommy here. I’m not ready to raise two children alone.”

            “You’re not alone.” Polly insisted as she walked over to the table, setting the keys down.

            “You know what I mean.”

            Martha looked to Polly, sharing a concerned look. It would only be a harder pregnancy if Amelia fought herself the whole time. They couldn’t make it any easier for her though. They couldn’t magically wish Tommy home. If they could, the war would’ve ended weeks ago. It never would have started to begin with.

            “You told him?” Polly asked, sitting down.

            “I sent a letter two days ago. I haven’t told Max. I don’t know what to even say.”

            “You don’t have to think about it right away. You have plenty of time.”

            Amelia nodded but she disagreed. Six months wasn’t enough time. She hoped every day that she’d get the news Tommy was coming home. But for whatever reason, maybe common sense, she didn’t see him home by the time six months was up. With every passing day, it felt like more and more time would pass before she saw him again.

            Tears flooded her eyes as the worst scenarios came to the forefront of her mind. “What if it’s years?” She let out a quiet sob. “What would I ever say to the child? What if he never comes home?”

            “Hush, now.” Polly wrapped an arm around her. “There’s no need to think of such things.” She soothed even though she knew these things were not outside the realm of possibilities. “You know that stress will only make things more difficult for you. You need to remain optimistic. You have a family that will be with you the whole way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Amelia’s image kept invading Tommy’s nightmares. This would be startling alone because he never associated her with terror. She had always been a dream come true. But in the trenches, she joined his worst fears.

            He saw her face on the soldiers who he’d seen die. He heard her voice screaming for him from the depths of the tunnels. The worst one came after a few days of little to no sleep. He finally got a chance for shut-eye and his worst fears descended upon him.

            Amelia had come into view, looking as she normally did back home. But in her arms, she was carrying Max.

            Help

            Max was torn apart, almost as if he was mauled by a wild animal. Blood poured down Amelia’s arms as she carried their son to him.

            Help

            Tommy couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything to save his son.

            Help

            As she got closer, Tommy could see Max was still alive. His eyes were open and he was breathing.

            Daddy?

            Tommy awoke in a cold sweat, screaming. It took both Jeremiah and Danny to quiet him and stop him from thrashing around. From that point on, Tommy never wanted to sleep again.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Hold still, Max.”

            “Mummy, I want to see it!”

            “No, love, this isn’t our camera. We can’t break it. Now, please stay still.”

            “Mummy, I won’t break it, I wanna see it!”

            “Max.” Amelia looked up from the camera lens with a stern look. “I said no. Now please, stand still. If you’re moving all over the place then the photograph will come out blurry.”

            The little boy crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that what you want to send to daddy? You want to send him a photograph of you making a face?” It was difficult to be frustrated with him. Such a sweet little boy with chocolate-colored waves of hair and lovely hazel eyes. Even when he made such a face, he was precious. Truly, he was the apple of Amelia’s eye.

            Max pulled a pout for another few moments before deciding to smile.

            “There’s a good boy. Now, stand still for just a second. I want to make sure it comes out perfect for daddy.”

            It had been a week and she had yet to hear back from Tommy regarding her letter about the pregnancy. But Amelia was trying to stay optimistic. It usually took a week for the letter to get to Tommy, and another week to get a response, should he write back immediately. Usually, he did. But she figured that maybe this time, he would need some time to think. It couldn’t be easy to process such information. Amelia was still having a hard time thinking about the baby and she wasn’t in the middle of an active battlefield.

            She had already sent a picture of herself and Max before but they were ones she already had. The one of Max was only a few months after he was born. She borrowed a camera from a friend to send a more updated photograph.

~~~~~~~~~~

            A couple of days later, as she tucked the photographs into an envelope along with a letter, Amelia thought about what Tommy might do when he opened it. She longed to see the smile on his face when he saw the picture of Max doing his best to stay perfectly still for the camera. Maybe he would show the others around him. She longed to see the pride in his eyes when he told the other soldiers that was his son. His Max. Maybe he’d tell him the news. His Amelia was pregnant again. He’d be having another child. Perhaps he’d speculate. Wonder if it was a girl this time or another boy.

            A teardrop fell onto the envelope as Amelia sat at her desk in the betting shop. If she couldn’t be there for him, to comfort him, then the least she could do was try to put a smile on his face. Even for the briefest of moments.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe​ @evelynshelby​

Tag list: @shelbyblinded​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[relishredshoes]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello CorvusDraconis and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you so much for sitting down with us to chat.

You’re a well known and beloved figure in the SS/HG community for your many stories - including a personal favourite of mine, A chance for happiness.

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? 

I have always had a fascination for the shiny things and the Northwest Coast depictions of Raven the Trickster/Creator, and, I tend to hoard (and get super protective) of my art supplies. Corvids have always been a positive sign in my life. They tend to show up when I’m feeling down and engage in funny antics in the yard. As for dragons, I’ve always had a love for them and think the Western depiction of them as dangerous beasts with no mind but for hoarding treasure and killing people only to be slain by a knight quite despicable. 

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Severus, actually. I see a lot of my life in his. Hardships, challenges, bullying— trying to be something better and later wondering about unwise decisions. I have a very similar dislike for dunderheads, but I do not share his inclination to denude rosebushes of their petals. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) I have always preferred fantasy and sci-fi. 

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

I am not sure if you would call it a classic novel, but grew up on all things Tolkien (and even puzzled through the Silmarillion at the grand age of seven), and have a special place in my heart for Watership Down. While I’ve read pieces like War and Peace, Iliad, Ulysses, Pride and Prejudice, Grapes of Wrath, Moby Dick, Great Gatsby, Little Women, Catcher in the Rye, Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn, Scarlet Letter, Don Quixote, To Kill a Mockingbird, Animal Farm, Jane Eyre, Lord of the Flies, Tale of Two Cities, Heart of Darkness, Robinson Crusoe, Alice in Wonderland, Great Expectations, Odyssey, Frankenstein, Dracula, Crime and Punishment, Heart of Darkness, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, The Secret Garden, Treasure Island, Anne of Green Gables, Les Misérables, Peter Pan, Gulliver’s Travels, all things Jack London, 20000 Leagues, etc.— they never captured me as aptly as Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern or Mercedes Lackley’s the Last Herald Mage. Though, if I were to pick classic stories I read more than once (litmus test for things I like) it would be things such as The Secret Garden, Call of the Wild, Wild Fang, The Hobbit, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,  and The Last Unicorn. At what age did you start writing? The moment I could pick up pencil and paper, I was writing. I had notepads full of stories I wrote as a kid. Alas, my dad found them one day when I was off to college, made fun of them, and I came home and burned every single one in mortification.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

The moment TV shows did “stupid things” to their characters. I used to write things about Beauty and the Beast (the old CBS show) when they killed off the main character, Knight Rider, Robocop, Transformers— there are probably far more that I just don’t remember now. I was writing it long before there was a fanfiction dot net or a term to even call it. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? I am a shameless romantic for the beauty within and sometimes the quite literal love for a monster (not just some person who acts like a monster and changes into a better person.) The misunderstood monster is perhaps my most favourite theme, and it shows up in my stories often if not always. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I ship SessKag from Inuyasha, Lucard/Sophie from Dracula: The Series, and Loki/Hermione when I’m feeling crossover-y. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Other than my favourite fanon that Severus lives/survives/finds a better life free of two masters and his guilt, I would say I would want Harry to wise the heck up and realise his father was a swine, his godfather was an almost successful murderer that used his own best mate to try and kill off another student, and his mother wasn’t all that hot either. I would want him to find value in himself without having to make stuff up about his “perfect” parents. Then again, I would want Vernon/Petunia to be arrested for child abuse and put in gaol, but— then the story would have been very different XD Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?  Sometimes quiet, sometimes music. But usually, I am best mates with Spotify.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

In the HP universe: I honestly don’t read many of them because I’m always writing my own stuff XD, but when I really feel like I need a good Ron bashing SSHG HEA, I read just about anything by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse. However, that being said, I often return to “The Sun is Often Out” by Hannah-1888 for just the right amount of angst and HEA to make me happy.

In the Inuyasha universe: A Trick of Fate by PristinelyUngifted

In the Marvel universe:  Mutual Respect Sends His Regrets by moor

In the Star Trek universe:  Gratified By Your Company by starfleetdream

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I go by the seat of my feathered rump, to be honest. Inspiration is a fickle, unpredictable beast, and I usually don’t know what is going to happen until it does.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Fantasy

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Chance of Happiness because it was my very first publication. It may not have been my best, but it was my first, and it very well could have been my last yet somehow wasn’t.

Looks Can Be Deceiving and One Step Forward, Two Decades Back are two epic tales that seemed to demand being written. The fact I finished them was something I think deserves a little pride.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Looks started off with me attempted to write Dramione just once. It failed. Draco demanded to be her brother of the heart, Viktor came in and said “nope she’s mine,” and no one was more surprised at the outcome of that story than me. The characters did what THEY wanted.

I learned that trying to plan a story from start to finish is useless when the characters decide what they want. The story demanded more, and I was just a conduit that typed it down. For me, at least, attempting to outline and plan is utterly useless

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

I think every story I write is personal in some way. The inspiration comes from somewhere inside, and I often have no idea what it is until I go back and read it later. I think the story wrote itself in a lot of ways, which made it easier in a way, but there are a lot of things I can’t say were from personal experience because as a high fantasy of talking gryphons and such I can only imagine it. There is no basis in real life on how any of that would go down. There is a freedom in that but also many challenges in making it real enough to identify with despite how alien and fantastic the idea is.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

Dragonriders of Pern introduced sentient dragons and the idea that despite a vast difference in species there could be teamwork and love between the two as they teamed up against a greater threat.

The herald-mage books by Mercedes Lackley were also important staples in my childhood because it impressed the values of responsibility despite having powers others did not, and that people were fallible despite greatness and potential.

Gandalara Cycle by Randall Garrett and Vicki Ann Heydron: I cannot tell you how often I read this story. I had dog ears on these novels because there was so much I loved about them. It was a search for humanity when displaced in a seemingly alien world, societal clashes, and the great sha’um (the giant rideable cats) that were the main characters’ partners for life.  

 The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede: A princess rebels against her arranged marriage by running away to be a dragon princess.

All of these books had creatures in it that chose to partner with a human and be with them for life, not as lovers that you find in the more modern supernatural romance blender out there, but the ultimate friend for life— the family you choose.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Oh heck no. Hah. They have their secrets, and I have mine. Personally, I think mine are more healthy than theirs.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? 

Very.

I write for myself. Sometimes I’ll write a story for one of my betas or a sshg friend, but for the most part, I write for my own entertainment because nothing like what I write is out there. There is a lot of SSHG out there, but mine is almost always a creature feature story. I blame X-Files growing up. It tickles me that others enjoy my stories, but in the end I write to get things down and out of my head. They just so happen to entertain others as they do me.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I will often engage in A/N talk at the end of chapters, but I really don’t engage in the fandom. I loathe social media. That being said, I read every review, and while I don’t reply to everything because FF dot net is a horrible platform for messaging anymore (or ever was really)-- I appreciate every single one. Sometimes it helps to know people are enjoying the story for the story’s sake.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Get a beta, even if you are pretty good at writing. Get one because a second pair of eyes will catch things you don’t. Read your own stuff out loud. If you trip over it, your audience will too. If you stumble, so will they.

Get a beta who isn’t afraid to tell you that your shite stinks in places and you make no sense. You may want a cheerleader, but what you need is a beta. If you are super lucky, you can have both at once.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I play computer games and sew things. I’ve sewn a lot of things lately. Scrub caps and masks for work— 

There has been a lot of writer’s block lately due to the times, and I will not write when I’m uninspired. I will not force inspiration. That’s not fair to me or those unfortunate enough to share in the reading. I want to be able to go back on a story I wrote and enjoy it and not curse at myself. XD

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Sometimes certain catch phrases and things from real life friends have trickled in as a sort of Easter egg (unbeknownst to them since I don’t tell them I write fanfic). Sometimes random news stories or whatnot find their way in. Lessons of the day. Random events. Things that are too odd not to stick in my brain somehow. I can’t say I always do it on purpose, though.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

No, I have a goal this year to finish off the unfinished stories. This is made harder because Dragon and the Rose keeps adding more and more bunnies into the idea bin, and my brain wants to run with them, but I’m like NO DANGIT, I HAVE STUFF TO FINISH STILL!  It’s a hard thing trying to finish what you start when so much interesting stuff pops up and waves at you like “heeeeeyyyyy I’m cool too!”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Keep writing but remember you can always be better. You can always improve.  Writing isn’t a popularity contest. It isn’t about how many reviews you get or how many fans you may or may not have. Write because you want to write. Write what you like not what other people like. Write for you because in the end, you are the one who goes back to read it and say “I wrote this story, and I still love it” instead of forcing yourself to write something just because the topic is “popular” and gets a lot of visitors. Write something you’ll be proud to go back and read and enjoy. You’ll find when you write something genuinely, readers will come. And if only one person leaves you a paragraph review on how much your story meant to them out of someone else’s hundreds of  “great!” (with nothing else)-- think of what you value more.

If my story helped someone through a dark time.

Just one person—

Then it was a good effort.

Maybe that person didn’t have the bravery to leave a message. Maybe they are ashamed. Maybe they send you a PM instead of a review.

That is, to me, the ultimate reason why I realised that despite writing stories for myself that there are people out there that needed to hear my story at just the right time in their life. If my story can bring a little joy to someone else, then it doesn’t matter how many reviews I have. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have thousands of reviews like “that other author.” What matters is that I told my story; someone out there read it and it spoke to them.

I love hearing from people and what they liked about my stories, but I also am glad that there are some people out there who secretly like my stories but do not feel safe enough to review.

So, I would say to the aspiring author: write for yourself but share it. You never know whose day you will make with your story. They may never tell you. They may tell you years later (happened to me!). There is a good chance that someone out there needs your story as much as you need to write it. That being said, find yourself a beta to share your journey with you. You may find a few friend in the process.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

You are quite welcome.

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist. SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE, IT’S JUST YOU AND ME! AND IN CASE YOU WANT TO SHARE MY POST THEN DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

Title: Noteson, Brown and Wilson

Here’s my secret art trade for my A-Pal @bryan360​, this month of April.🙂

I’m continuing making three way Bryan’s OCs artwork(s), but instead of my traditional with pencil, paper, color and scan, I decided to go digital with my graphics tablet and GIMP artwork (ver 2.10.24).📝🖍️✍️➡️🖋️🖥️

And although I used to be draw his OCs in traditional, there’s something that I want to talk about my Canon Lide 220 scanner...

• Last 1st day of April, while I’m finishing my April Fools comic art [CLICK ME!], I want to scan my old printed images with recent Canon scanner. Once I plug in through my computer... Well something happen... And it was un-respond. Something like this → [CLICK ME!].😟

• With that error message, I’m unable to use my canon scanner. Although I’m complete move to digital drawing tablet as my main art tool and I have no plans to return to my traditional art routes, I still need my canon scanner for scanning important document(s) and precious photoshoots from old decades.

• I tried to do troubleshooting by disassemble parts, wiping out the dust from inside and even re-install the scanner driver (from canon website), it didn’t solve my  problem...😟

• My mom said to me that probably the USB Mini Cable was the one causing problems of my scanner, and thought to myself... "Maybe”. So I took her advice by ordering a new USB mini cable from Lazada app (I’ll show ya very someday), and hope for the best. Once my order was arrived, I immediately open and test it anyway. So how was it? Well, nothing it’s the same error as before.😟

Damn, so much for that... Now will I gonna find a replacement part for my canon scanner? Or buy a new one with a different brand? Who knows, this could be a difficult choice; even in the face of pandemic days...😷😔

For now, my canon scanner is half dead. It could a big chance to revive from repair, so I can finally use it once again...

Well that’s all I want share, and without further ado, here are the three OC’s that I drew for his (secret) ‘art trade’ request.

• Noteson: A musical cat born in UK, who loves to perform with his trumpet as his music tool of choice.

• Brown: He’s a Cartoon Network ultra fanatic squirrel, than anything else. He always hang out with his favorite CN friends such as, Chowder, Steven Quartz, Blossom, Finn the Human (Finn Mertens), etc... Hope he’s still safe from exploring CN world, just saying.

• Wilson: He calls himself “Long Ears”, due to his extended dog ears that he can do pretty much anything (as evidence from his artwork [CLICK ME!]); aside from flying. Something that Dumbo couldn’t do, despite he only do his ears was... Well flying, duh.

BTW: I’ll be thinking, that I do a remake of my Bryan360′s three OCs artworks from 2019 to 2020. Though it takes time to do that, so I’ll be do some free time if I can (one by one).

Anyways, hope you like it, bud.

Noteson, Brown and Wilson are owned by @bryan360.

[dumbofassjoey]

YOUR THRONE IS THE ONE DANGER ZONE

WHO: joey hummel-anderson ft. cam, zoe, lemon, trace, finn, dylan, julien, lj, ophie WHEN: thursday, 28th january WHERE: mckinley WHAT: joey finally takes that test and he ends up passing, which leads him to sing “take me to the pilot”!

The day had finally come – it seemed like this week had taken forever to pass and that was mostly because this test had been the only thing on his mind for most of it. After Principal Remington accused him of cheating on one of the tests, the truth was that Joey hadn’t actually cheated on this one; however, that didn’t mean he knew what he had done to get such a good grade – he mostly had just filled the bubbles in a random order and it ended with him getting a drawing of a dinosaur. It was weird being alone in one of the classrooms, especially since the teacher didn’t seem like they wanted to be there at all – which was understandable, since Joey didn’t want to be there either, but he was ready to prove principal Remington wrong. As he took a seat on one of the desks and the teacher handed him the scantron sheet that he was familiar with, Joey let out a sigh as he looked down at it. “Can I use crayons?” Joey asked, but he immediately regretted it once he saw the look on the teacher’s face. Taking out a pencil, Joey took a deep breath as he started reading the questions – he had to pass this test.

It seemed like the time flew by and it felt like Joey’s brain was going to explode – he couldn’t remember a time where had been so focused on something, but he wasn’t even sure if any of it was right. Before he knew it, the teacher was snatching the test from him and Joey looked up at them, before getting up from his seat and making his way outside – he would know the grade in a couple of minutes, so he would just wait in the hall. Joey was nervous, but once he got outside, he looked at his friends that had been waiting for him to finish the test – Finn, Cam, Zoe and Trace were all standing outside and quickly turned their heads as they approached Joey. “How did it go? Do you think you passed?” Finn asked Joey, but before he could even answer, Cam was intervening. “I’m sure you did great, bud!” He said, before patting him on the back – all Joey did was nod his head at them, as he looked back to the door. What was supposed to only be a few minutes, turned to almost half an hour, until Zoe finally said something. “She’s taking too long, what could take so long to put the test through the Scantron machine?” She asked, before Trace widened his eyes and looked at Joey. “You didn’t use crayons, did you? That shit breaks the machine!” Trace warned him, but as Joey opened his mouth to answer, he heard the door open and quickly turned his head to look at the teacher.

“Well, Mr. Hummel-Anderson, I actually had to put the test through the machine a couple of times to make sure my eyes didn’t deceive me… I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but you got a B minus, congratulations.” The teacher said with somewhat a smile, before handing the sheet to Joey, which he quickly took away from her to make sure she wasn’t messing with him – she wasn’t and he had proven Brock Remington wrong. As he turned around to look at his friends with a smile, he could see that they were cheering for him. Turning his head, he saw Ophie joining the group and asking what was going. “I passed my test!” Joey said, before showing her the test. “You know what, I think I have the perfect song for this week’s assignment.” And just like that, the first notes of ‘Take me to the Pilot’ started playing and Joey was walking down the hall with Trace right behind him.

“If you feel that it’s real, I’m on trial and I’m here in your prison. Like a coin in your mint, I am dented and I’m spent with high treason.” Joey started off, before taking a turn in the hall and spotting Lemon and Dylan walking together, quickly making his way towards them and wrapping his arms around their necks as he kept singing. “Through a glass eye, your throne is the one danger zone, take me to the pilot for control… Take me to the pilot of your soul!” Joey sang out, as Lemon and Dylan sang along with him as they made their way to the choir room and walked inside, where most of the people were already sitting down in all of the chairs, Joey kept singing the song  with all of his heart – today was a good day and he was making sure that everyone was having fun while Joey sang. Even if Lemon and Dylan were singing in the background, everyone seemed to have joined in singing.

“Take me to the pilot, lead me through the chamber, take me to the pilot, I am but a stranger!” Joey sang, making sure to keep the same energy he had as he walked in the choir room, running towards the rest of the glee club and falling to his knees in front of Julien and LJ, who were now singing the “na na na” along with him – he even got a smile out of LJ, which seemed to rare since the other seemingly didn’t like being part of the Glee Club. As the song went back to the chorus, Joey was feeling better than never, as he hit the high notes he had to hit, while everyone sang along with him. As he finished the song, everyone was clapping at him and Joey couldn’t help but to let out a small chuckle, as he raised the test that he took earlier and showed it to the glee club. “Guess I’m not that bad at school.” He finished off, before taking a deep breath after the performance – at that moment, he was just happy that he got his chance to shine in glee club and that he had finally passed a test.

[nikaranikita]

Poe Gaston and Belle Finn - work in progress, pencil sketch + color testing (on my phone, because I am a lazy lil shit)

[deuynndoodles]

a new oneshot is up! read on ao3 or click read more

end of the beginning by deuynndrabbles

Then Fenton rummages through his bag, pulling out a . . . Thermos? He presses a button on the green-accented metallic canteen, and the ghost that entered is sucked into the thermos. Danny Fenton hasn’t looked up from his test at all.

The alarm cuts off.

Foley bursts out in laughter at the expressions on the other students. Manson offers a quick thumbs up on the opposite side of Fenton, barely suppressing her giggles as well.

(aka 5 times danny was a cryptid/super weird and one time people were really weird to him)

2.8k | oneshot

Star hates the cafeteria food.

Though the fact that said food is glowing, has sharp white teeth, and flying is probably enough to make anyone not want to eat a hot dog ever again in their entire life.

She dumps the food off her tray and swings it at the floating hot dogs. When Star turns around, she sees that everyone else is doing the same. Even Sam Manson, who is usually stoic and reserved when ghosts are around. To be fair to her, the meat sticks are chewing at the edges of the brunette’s hair.

Star takes a deep breath and readies herself. She pulls out a pocket-knife from her pocket (don’t you dare ask her what she’s doing with it, have you heard of creeps?) and flicks it open, swiping all the hot dogs surrounding in half. A good dozen of them fall to the ground limply, but they are still glowing brightly.

Why is the food ecto-contaminated, anyway? How the fuck did that happen?

In the corner of her eye, the blonde sees Danny Fenton enter the cafeteria. He leans his head back, exhausted, and she hears him say, “Oh no, not again.”

It’s the last word that caught her. That insinuates that this has happened before to him. What happens next is even more weird- all of the food drops to the floor, losing their ectoplasmic glow. There’s a collective gasp of relief from every mouth in the room, including Star.

The girl turns to Fenton. She’s sure she is the only one looking at him, and he returns her gaze. What startles her is that his eyes are glowing a toxic green instead of their regular sky blue. Star blinks and then it’s gone.

The boy then walks up to a hot dog that’s sitting on one of the student’s trays, popping it in his mouth and then leaving. Star tilts her head, watching the boy.

She must have just been seeing things, surely.

•

•

•

Edward Lancer is a teacher, and a fairly good one at that. He’s had many students, far too many to count and he unfortunately doesn’t remember everyone’s name. There is definitely one name he’ll never forget though-

And that name is Danny Fenton.

Edward always sees the brunet walking around with his best friends if he can help it, a wide grin on the young boy’s face as Tucker Foley makes a remark that he can’t hear. Whenever he sees the boy he hides a smile and continues on doing whatever he’s doing, may it be repeating a word in the shakespearean novel for the umpteenth time to his confused class, or simply washing his hands in the bathroom.

To be fair, the reason the boy sticks in his memory isn’t because of his grades. Yes, the boy is brilliant when he tries, but it is not the purpose that the words “danny fenton” are always on his mind. No, it’s because of how quirky the boy is.

This is what he thinks when his class is taking a test, all scribbling furiously. Some are chewing on the eraser of their pencil, a few of the girls are twirling their hair around their finger in thought, and Fenton is almost glaring at his paper as if it personally offends him. The boy licks his lips and scribbles a quick answer on the second page of the quiz, proud of himself.

Then the ghost alarm goes off.

A blue-skinned ghost in denim overalls phases through the window, bringing his hands up in a mock-scary way that actually causes some of the kids to scream.

“Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, calm down students!” Edward says before he can stop himself. To be fair, he’s slightly scared himself.

Then Fenton rummages through his bag, pulling out a . . . Thermos? He presses a button on the green-accented metallic canteen, and the ghost that entered is sucked into the thermos. Danny Fenton hasn’t looked up from his test at all.

The alarm cuts off.

Foley bursts out in laughter at the expressions on the other students. Manson offers a quick thumbs up on the opposite side of Fenton, barely suppressing her giggles as well.

Edward opens his mouth to ask what that is about, and where is the fear that Fenton usually shows when there was a ghost before running off, when the bell rings and the boy just runs up, blurts a quick “Done! Bye Mr. Lancer” before running off with his friends as if he hasn’t just did the weirdest thing ever.

One of his students starts off with a “What the fu-” before Edward gives him a look. Honestly though, that’s the same thing he’s wondering right now.

Dash is going to teach Fentoenail a lesson.

This dodgeball game is a perfect chance to do that. All of the A-Listers on his team, and the losers on Fenton’s team, there’s no possible way Dash could lose. There are jocks he doesn’t know the name of on his team, and the girls are cheering for him on the side of the gym; this is perfect.

At the beginning of the game, it’s Fenton’s little girlfriend who starts. The brunette leans to the floor, holding the ball securely in her hands, and throws. It hits one of the boys in the back on his thigh, and Dash claims war.

The blond takes a dodgeball from the floor while everyone else does at the same time, and suddenly balls are flying everywhere. He distinctly hears Paulina complain about a ball missing her just by a foot at least twice, but he ignores it in favor of getting more hits in. He rushes about the gym, not slipping in the slightest.

However, Fentina is a different story. The puny little boy has horrible footwork, slipping every time he tosses a ball which constantly throws off his aim. He’s huffing with every breath, slowing down every ten seconds. Dash takes the chance to throw his current ball at the heaving brunet.

Dash has no idea how fast the ball is going, but he can see it blurring in motion. Fenton turns around, seeing the ball. The jock waits for the ball to hit him in the nose, the specific spot that he aims for.

Fenton catches it.

He has his palms out, catching the ball cleanly. The boy narrows his eyes and squares in on Dash. Dash doesn’t care, it’s not like Fenturd can actually hit him; the catch is just beginner’s luck.

He’s proven wrong when the ball hits him straight in the face, and he’s forced to leave the game.

“You’re dead, Fenturd!”

•

•

•

Mikey is a nerd. That’s the simple truth everyone about him knows, no one wanting to look further. He’s bullied often, no one daring to help him in favor of staying on the A-Listers’ good side. The redhead also knows that Danny Fenton is a nerd, and because of this the boy is bullied as well. He doesn’t dare help him though; if he does, then he’ll take the bullying upon himself.

Yes, a little cowardly, he knows. This is why he simply stands by when Dash shoves Danny in his locker for the sixth time this week. (It’s Tuesday.) Mikey gulps and turns to his own locker, placing his math textbooks in. He walks to his next class on shaky feet.

He hears some rattling as he passes by the boy’s locker room to retrieve his change of clothes, and he inhales to calm himself down. If it’s a ghost, Danny Phantom has surely fought it off, right? He inhales again, this time it is more effective.

He realizes that as he was breathing, everyone in his gym class has come into the locker room as well. He grabs his clothes out and slams the locker door closed, which is lost in the chatter of all the other teenage boys.

A boy opens his locker a few feet away from him.

“Fenton?”

Dash turns his head at the noise, ignoring Mikey. He lets out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding; but then startles as Danny waves at one of the jocks, suddenly all the way on the other side of the school when no one has seen him come out of the locker.

Mikey blinks twice, and then pulls his shirt off. He is still confused, but he needs to get dressed so that he could sweat all over the floor and hear the whistle of Tetslaff telling him to “pick up the pace!” He sure as hell didn’t like it, but he needs one more year of physical ed before he could take the classes he wants to take.

The fact that Danny had somehow teleported is on his mind for the rest of the day.

•

•

•

Tucker Foley is tired.

After helping Danny fight ghosts up until 3AM last night, it’s understandable. His teachers don’t know it, though, which doesn’t help in the slightest if he’s startled awake every other minute.

Tucker glances over at Danny, who looks even worse than he did. Danny slumps over on his desk, his fist slipping off of his face. The brunet’s face slams against the desk, and he jolts up; fully awake for a few seconds before the cycle repeats.

And as perfect compensation, of course the ghost alarm decides to go off right then and there.

Tucker bites his lip. Danny is half-asleep, there’s hardly anything he could do fighting-wise. The boy sees a wisp of cold air blow out of the other’s mouth, and he barely acknowledges it.

Tucker reaches into his bag and pulls out his personal Fenton Thermos, ready to suck up a ghost. The boy glances out the window, and braces for impact.

Tucker doesn’t have Danny’s ghost sense, so he has absolutely no possible way of knowing who it is. To be fair, Danny probably doesn’t either, but he knew the ghosts better than he did. The boy leans over, shaking the other tired boy.

“Danny, time to go ghost!” Tucker says as Danny grumbles. “C’mon, Danny. I’ll cover ya, just go!”

Danny raises his hand and Mr. Lancer gives them both a look, but lets Danny leave. Tucker smiles nervously, worried about the halfa. He sits stiffly, waiting, and once nobody has their eyes on him he bolts out the door with the Thermos.

•

•

•

Sam is quick to follow. She rushes out the door and outside to see the ghost boy trading blows with Spectra. The goth bites her lip nervously and bates her breath, lost in time. The only thing she can see is the two battling ghosts.

Danny is clearly too exhausted to come up with any quips, his eyes tired and his mouth sagging into a frown. He throws another punch again, but misses by at least a foot as the other ghost kicks him right in between the shoulderblades.

Sam is suddenly aware of the crowd of people surrounding her on all sides, pressing her in so she can no longer see the boy. She elbows herself to the front, and shouts out to Danny,

“Use your Ghostly Wail!”

It is the only logical thing right now. Danny’s getting more and more clumsy, and if he aims an ectoblast it’s likely he’ll burn a tree instead of his enemy. The white-haired teen glances back at Sam, an expression on his face that probably means you sure? Sam responds silently, her face pleading, do it.

Danny inhales deeply, and Wails. Spectra is blown back from the force. Everyone in the crowd cover their ears, including Sam. The girl rushes forward to where Danny has stumbled in midair, and then he starts falling to the ground.

His transformation rushes over him, and he falls immediately to the ground, unconscious.

Sam gasps, this is the one thing she didn’t think of. She tries to block him from sight, but everyone else has already seen.

The brunette gulps.

There’s immediate chatter, but Sam ignores it completely. Tucker comes out of the crowd and helps Sam carry Danny inside after he captures Spectra, his sneakers dragging on the floor. The conscious boy turns to the girl, his mouth opening.

“Yeah, I know. Shut up.”

Admittedly, Tucker hasn’t spoken a word. But Sam just knows that he’s going to rant on and on in panic; and she wants to stop that because if he starts, he will never stop.

“Wait.”

The two turn around to see Dash of all people. Sam glares at him, spitting out the words,  “Whadd’ya want, asshole?”

Dash looks at his feet and shifts them. It’s very uncharacteristic of him. “I wanna help.”

Sam’s face must’ve changed, because then Tucker looks at her and blanches. “That’s a scary look, dude. When’s the last time you smiled at Dash?”

Sam ignores the boy’s remark, instead giving the blond a stiff nod. Dash nervously walks forward and takes the unconscious halfa by the chest, throwing him over his shoulder as gently as possible. Sam takes the chance to run back to the classroom, and pulls her emergency first aid kit out of her bag. She doubts she’ll need it, but she doesn’t know the full damage Danny sustained.

Dash enters the room and plops him in his assigned chair. Sam turns to Tucker, not believing she is going to say this.

“Ya wanna do the honours?”

And Tucker smirks, licking his finger and sticking it in the unconscious boy’s ear.

•

•

•

Danny startles awake, pushing Tucker’s hand away. “Fucking gross, dude! Why’d you even do that?”

Both Tucker and Sam look at him with an expression he can’t place. The brunet tilts his head. For some reason, it is kinda ominous.

“M’sorry.” The voice is harsh and masculine, the words almost sounding ungeniune. But it’s because the person doesn’t like saying sorry, no that they aren’t sorry.

It isn’t Tucker who said that. The voice comes from behind him, and he blinks. He turns around, unaware of Sam making the cut it out gesture with braced teeth. When he sees Dash, he’s understandably confused.

“Wait, what?” He must’ve heard that wrong.

“I’m sorry for bullying you.”

Danny just pauses. There’s no other way to explain it. He reboots with one sentence immediately out of his mouth.

“Why the fuck is Dash apologizing?”

Sam inhales, her chest rising and slumping like it’s a burdensome task. She stares at the floor, unsure. Danny finds it startling to see the girl looking so awkward; first Dash, now Sam?

“Y’know Spectra?”

He recalls that he just blew Spectra away with his Ghostly Wail, and he furrows his eyebrows. “Yeah, what about her?”

“Well. . .”

Tucker interrupts. “Remember when Sam said to use your Wail?” He’s rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Yeah? What about it?” Danny asks

.

You may or may not have transformed back. And it may or may have not been in front of the whole school.”

“What?”

Tucker shamefully pulls his beanie over his eyes so he can’t make eye contact. “Sorry, dude.”

Danny throws himself back. “That’s it. I’m ruined,” he groans.

There’s a creaking sound, and then Dash reappears in his line of sight. The jock looks unsure, before he says, “I’m sorry,” yet again with his voice cracking in the middle of the o.

This entire thing is unreal. Is Danny dreaming? He pinches himself on the cheek and moans in pain.

I’m sorry, this isn’t a dream."

Tucker is the one to break the ice with a quip. “I mean, at least it wasn’t on live TV.”

Sam eyes him, judging the boy. “Don’t jinx it.”

“Oh shit.” The words have finally sunken in for Danny. He holds his head, hunching over his chair with a distressed expression.

“Well,” Tucker shrugs, “we can always worry about it tomorrow?”

As he hears a stampede come down the hall (likely searching for him) he reaches over and grabs his friends, tiredness forgotten. He taps into his core and tugs, invisibility flickering over the trio.

Dash blinks at air where three people were just standing, before recovering. “I’ll hold them off, get out’a here.”

Danny grabs his backpack as the other two do the same.

“But. They’re gonna want an explanation, Fenton. So ya better give it to them tomorrow.” Leaving the and me unspoken.

Danny pauses, speaking before he could stop himself. “Thanks, Dash. I owe ya one.”

Dash has seemed to finally return to his senses, finally saying a characteristic sentence. “Ya sure fucken do.”

Danny bites his lip, he knows that the students will eventually reach this room. He activates his intangibility, spreading across Sam and Tucker as well, and walks through the wall.

And if he gets regular ice cream cones for him and Tucker (Sam wants vegan) leaving the money in the cash machine, no one is there to judge him for it.

[swan--writes]

For your Dewey song request: Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince! Please!💗

Back to the high school AU we go! This isn’t connected to Where I’m At though. Totally different reader. I did also do a female reader - typically when people don’t specify I go with gender neutral, but I couldn’t resist this one. If you would like a gender neutral reader insert, feel free to drop me another request!

Words: ~1,730 (…listen, I am soft and so are you, so let’s all be soft Dewey lovers together)

You were not looking forward to this.

You felt guilty, honestly. Your mom was so excited to send you off to your dance. The dress you picked out was a ballgown cut, pink, sparkly, thrifted. She didn’t know that you’d taken her money and bought a twenty-dollar dress from the shop just off of Main Street. The rest of the money had gone to burgers and milkshakes for two, and half a cab ride home.

But your mom had no idea. She had simply requested you twirl for her in your new (old) glittery dress, dolled you up with golden eyeshadow and nude lips, and sent you on your way with your date. He was tall and he was handsome and he guided you through the doors of the community center with a Prince Charming smile. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and if you were being honest, you were fine with that.

Guilty indeed.

He sat you down at a table and asked you to wait for him. With doe-like eyes, you nodded and watched him walk away. Not for the first time since you bought your dress, you found your thoughts drifting to two weeks ago, two burgers, two milkshakes, and a basket of fries. The diner had been chilly, and you hadn’t had a jacket. It wasn’t a particularly good diner – the food was average at best – but they committed to their theme. 60s music, waitstaff on rollerblades, pink and black and white everywhere, coin-operated jukebox. That afternoon, you lost count of the Pink Floyd tunes you had ordered on that jukebox. You were offered practically unlimited coins, and you made use of them. If you hadn’t paid the bill, you would have felt guilty about that too. As it was, you felt guilty enough for being there.

The sound of a familiar laugh brought you back to the community center. Valentine’s Day decorations, Valentine royalty ballots, and across the room…

You know I adore you.

Dewey Finn. At the dance. Wearing a suit.

It was a shabby suit, faded and worn in places and most likely borrowed from his dad. But still.

I’m crazier for you…

You knew that the evening would most likely find him smoking under a tree at the edge of the parking lot an hour from now, but the fact that he showed up at all was shocking.

Than I was at sixteen.

Dewey Finn had been voted Most Likely to Live in the Basement Forever on the unofficial superlatives. He was the most proudly anti-establishment human you had ever met.

Lost in a film scene.

What was he doing at a dance? And, for that matter, what were you doing there? With a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend, in an itchy twenty-dollar dress and heels that pinched you everywhere?

Dewey met your eyes. Your breath involuntarily caught. For a moment, he only stared at you with wide eyes. Almost as suddenly as he caught your eye, however, he frowned. Why–? “Hey, sorry about that,” came your date’s voice from above you. Oh.

Your date stepped in front of you, blocking your view of Dewey. With no other choice, you smiled up at the guy before you. One at a time. “Hey,” you replied. “Did you vote for Valentine’s court?”

“I did, and I heard a rumor that you did too.” He sat beside you and bumped your shoulder with his.

No cameras catch my pageant smile.

“Oh yeah? And whom, may I ask, did I vote for?”

I counted days, I counted miles…

“Yourself, I’d think.” Oh God. He really was a nice guy, but this was the last thing you needed. Class president, Honor’s Society, martyr of the cheerleading team, Valen-Queen? Any way you could opt out of one of those?

To see you there.

You forced yourself to maintain your playfulness. “Smart choice.” Your date laughed. You snuck a glance up to where you had been looking before. Dewey was gone.

To see you there.

What followed for the next hour was exactly what you had been expecting. Snacks, punch, dancing, more punch, ‘extra special’ decorations. Chaperones would interrupt every so often for unnecessary announcements, your friends interrupted you and your date every so often. You danced with everyone who asked you. You lost track of your date.

American stories burning before me.

You were pressed against so many people and you knew all of them. All of them wanted so badly to know you, it was dizzying.

I’m feeling helpless.

The chaperones kept winking at you when they saw you with your date. Why did they do that?

The damsels are depressed.

You were more relieved to lose track of him than you were to have his friendly face. His well-meaning face.

It fell fantastically flat. Much as you hated it, you knew who you wanted to see, and you had lost track of him too. You weren’t even sure he was still in the building. Although, you had somewhat expected that, and you had an idea of where he might be.

I counted days, I counted miles…

It was chilly outside, but you didn’t want to return for your jacket. There was a small pond at the end of the parking lot, below a grassy slope. Someone was standing by it. as you drew closer, you could see more and more clearly who it was.

To see you there.

At this point, you didn’t have it in you to be disappointed when you saw the cigarette. With him, you found you didn’t mind.

To see you there.

“I was surprised to see you here,” you said.

“I told you was coming.”

“That was two weeks ago, you could’ve changed your mind.”

“Well, I didn’t. Why didn’t you come say ‘hi’ earlier?” Dewey asked. The darkness surrounding you softened his voice. “Afraid your boyfriend, Jock McSmirkle would see you?” He started to raise the cigarette to his lips again, but seeing you scrunch your nose in disgust, he dropped it and stamped it out.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s a nice guy.”

A barely noticeable crease formed in Dewey’s brow. “Good.” His voice sounded genuine, but his expression looked subtly pained.

You frowned at him like he was a calculus problem on a geometry test. Then, with no warning, you shivered hard. You wrapped your arms around yourself and tried to shake it off.

Dewey rolled his eyes. “Why do you never have a jacket, Princess?” he muttered. He shook his head and shrugged out of his suit jacket. You tried to protest, but he ignored you and draped it around your shoulders. It was all too familiar – his movements, his smell, the way the jacket hung from your shoulders before you pulled it closer. Cool air, pencils, a tinge of steel, and just a little smoke. It was just like it had been at the diner. You fought to keep your eyes open as you inhaled and mumbled your thanks.

And I don’t want you to (Go!)

It would have been impossible for you not to notice that Dewey hadn’t asked whether you really liked your date or not.

I don’t really wanna (Fight!)

“Why did you come, anyway?” you asked before you could stop yourself. He looked startled by the question.

‘Cause nobody’s gonna (Win!)

“Oh, I um…I wanted…” You tilted your head to get a better look at his face when he looked away from you. It took a few long moments, but he finally muttered his answer to the ground. “…wanted to dance with you.”

I just thought you should know…

“You’re not gonna make me go back in there, are you?”

When he laughed, there was a hard edge to it. “No, of course not. You wouldn’t wanna be seen–”

“Oh good, I’m trying not to–wait, what?”

“What?”

You stared at Dewey. The cold February air stung your eyes. The light pollution illuminated his face, but you couldn’t read his usually open expression. Did he think you were embarrassed? After two burgers, two milkshakes, a basket of fries, and half a cab ride home, did he really think that?

And I’ll never let you (Go!)

“Well, I just…” he sighed, hands on his hips because where else would he put them? “I know people started talking about you after last year–”

‘Cause I know this is a (Fight!)

“You mean, when you were the only person who visited me in the hospital after my surgery? Dewey, I don’t care what people think about us.”

That someday we’re gonna (Win!)

His eyes went wide. “There’s an ‘us?’”

You hesitated. “Isn’t there?”

Slowly, like he was scared to frighten you away, Dewey drifted forward. You didn’t miss the way his hands trembled when he took your waist, but you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his shoulders. He kept moving forward. The air between you was deriding physics, shrinking as it heated, only to expand and encircle you both, then shrink again as you drew closer. Dewey’s hands slid farther and farther until they landed at the small of your back. You clasped a hand on one of your arms at his back. The ugly yellow lighting turned stunning in his soft eyes, you felt his soft stomach press against yours. He leaned forward and you reminded yourself to lower your eyelids. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to miss this. You didn’t want to miss him.

He was close – he was so close – when all of a sudden, he stopped.

You and me, that’s my whole world.

You felt cigarette-scented breath ghosting over your lips, hurtling across the two-inch distance to reach you. “Let’s get out of here, Princess,” he whispered. Trying not to knock your forehead against his, you nodded.

They whisper in the hallway, “She’s a bad, bad girl.”

You would later find out that you had been voted Valen-Queen. That your date had been Valen-King, had searched for you, had taken your jacket home with him because he didn’t want to rat you out to your mom just in case you had done…well, what you did. You would feel guilty. You would feel so, so guilty. But that night, running away from the dance with Dewey, you already knew that you wouldn’t feel guilty enough to regret it.

“She’s a bad, bad girl.”

.

.

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