#okay but also Pete would lose the map

[mochafrappiccinolatte]

This is a Jegulus birthday one-shot dedicated to the lovely, sweet, kind, talented, and most perfect @kat-m-toast. Happy birthday 🖤

TW: implied explicit content

Four things are true:

James Potter loves birthdays.

James Potter has never had a surprise party because he is so excited for his birthday every year that he always helps his friends plan him an elaborate party.

Regulus Black hates birthdays and elaborate parties.

Regulus Black loves James Potter.

It’s the fourth one that is the current cause of Regulus’ migraine. Presently, Regulus is sitting in the dark, crouched down in the Gryffindor Common Room on a Saturday night surrounded by rowdy lions, who he just cannot get to shut the fuck up.

“Do they truly have no sense of decorum? They are going to ruin the surprise,” Regulus thinks with an irritated huff.

You see, James’ birthday fell on a Wednesday this year. Which was a problem because he had quidditch practice at 5:30 am (the maniac) and what is there to do on a Wednesday? The Marauders, as usual, caused a giant commotion over breakfast, how they made every fork and spoon say happy birthday prongsie when touched Regulus will never know. They then partook in riotous revelry throughout the day, so you know, the same as any other Wednesday.

Regulus, the HBIC (head boyfriend in charge) planned a candlelight picnic on the astronomy tower. It was sentimental, cute, quaint even, their relationship did start on that very tower, after all. But, Regulus knows his boyfriend and his love of grand gestures, birthdays, and, sadly, elaborate parties.

This brings us back to number four, Regulus Black fucking loves James Potter. This means Regulus knows that, although James was grateful for their candlelit birthday picnic, he was also disappointed that his Wednesday birthday meant he couldn’t have a party.

Or, so he thought. Regulus isn’t the HBIC for nothing. So, he’s spent months meeting in secret with the Gryffindors (vomit), sourcing firewhiskey (surprisingly easy), writing Effie to get her to send James’ favorite cake so he can blow out candles (this muggle custom confuses and disgusts Regulus, but James loves it and it’s not like Regulus is a stranger to James’ spit), convincing Peter to “accidentally” lose the map (yes, Regulus knows about the map, no, they aren’t that discrete), convincing Remus to steal the invisibility cloak (yes, Regulus knows about the invisibility cloak, no they aren’t that discrete, like at all) and then sneaking everything up to the Gryffindor Common Room while Sirius distracts James (again, surprisingly easy).

But everything, every argument with his brother, every secret meeting with the lions, thank Salazar for Lily Evans, every trek through dirty passageways that Regulus sacrificed more than one pair of shoes to, hell, even the four nights of Regulus sleeping in the Slytherin Common Room that he traded with Barty in order to get the expensive firewhiskey (apparently there’s this thing Barty wants to try against the window and the floor that required him and Evan have complete privacy) was all worth it when he saw the look on his boyfriend’s face when the confetti flew into the air and everyone jumped up and yelled surprise.

Regulus has never seen James cry, embodiment of sunshine and all that, but even from where Regulus now stands by the stairs he can see the tears shining in James’ eyes.

When James finally spots Regulus, that’s when the tears fall.

“This was all you, wasn’t it, love?” James asks as he gets closer to Regulus, slipping an arm around his waist.

“Happy birthday, Jamie. I hope your surprise party was worth the wait.” Regulus replies, his lips against James’ cheek.

So yes, Regulus Black loves James Potter, and, if the show of gratitude he got in the Room of Requirement that night is anything to go off of, Regulus Black may be persuaded to like elaborate parties as well.

[itsclydebitches]

Okay, so as the canon recedes from memory and fandom jokes take hold — la de da the world turns — I’ve seen an influx of takes that have steadily moved away from “Izzy’s tragic because this whole debacle is technically his fault (going after Stede’s hostages)” and “Izzy is sympathetic in part because he’s so bad at villain-ing” straight into serious claims of, “Wow, Izzy is just totally incompetent, huh?”

No, no, no, Izzy is terrifyingly competent.

We as a fandom need to remember our meta roots; one of the very first things ever acknowledged in the community: this is a character who has suddenly been thrust into a new genre.

For me, it’s basically the storytelling version of the “Who would win, Goku or Saitama?” question. The answer has nothing to do with power, skill, or competence and everything to do with what would be funny, because Saitama exists in a universe where, unless it’s more entertaining for him to lose, he automatically wins — always, forever, it’s the default state. That doesn’t make Goku, a guy with the power of the gods in his own universe, incompetent by any stretch of the imagination. It just means he’s suddenly been hog-tied by the rules of a new reality.

Izzy is the Goku to Stede’s Saitama.

Izzy scopes out Stede’s marooned crew (because he didn’t remember to have someone steer the boat), buys the hostages he lost, and homoerotically skillfully cuts up his shirt with hard-earned sword skills. Stede wins when Pete throws a rock.

Izzy corners Stede in the duel before he’s even realized they’ve started, hits him across the face, disarms him, and skewers him to the mast by successfully stabbing him. Stede wins because the handle of Izzy’s sword broke and there’s supposedly nothing important on the left side of the body.

Izzy is a complete asshole about chores because in his ‘real world’ a lack of munitions, or barnacles on the ship’s side, leads to death. Or at least lost raids (which they also need to afford basic supplies). Stede exists in the world where you can walk off stab wounds, find an oasis of oranges at your assassin’s church, and row straight to your lost crew without a need for anything like supplies, rest, or a map.

Pre-Stede Izzy successfully intimidates Fang, gets him to obey his commands ( “Fang!” *hiss*), and Fang admits that complaining about the abuse wouldn’t do any good. Post-Stede Fang, Lucius, Pete, Wee John, etc. can’t be intimidated because they know that here, such threats are meaningless.

Izzy manages to wrangle together Calico Jack, Spanish Jackie, and the British — three very different parties with beef against each other and him — all in an effort to get Stede executed. Stede survives because Ed pulls out a trump card that we learned about [checks notes] right now.

Stede beats Izzy again and again and again because Stede is working under the rules of the Romantic Comedy. Is it funny if Stede were to win a duel through absurd means? Yes? Then that’s what happens. Would Izzy winning here interfere with the romance between Ed and Stede? Yes? Then that can’t happen. It’s as simple as that. Unless we circle away from the stages of Epiphany (Stede’s talk with Mary) and Resolution (heading back to Ed for the presumed reunion) and Izzy becomes a more serious Obstacle to their love, everything he attempts is doomed from the get-go. Even if he were to be written as a more serious threat to the romance, the comedy inevitably obliterates any real chance he’d have. Unless OFMD doesn’t just pull lightly from other genres as it has in season one, but takes a hard turn into something new... Izzy is fighting a losing battle. He’s Goku powering up to fucking super saiyan and then being understandably confused when Stede manages to trip over his own feet, starting a Loony Toon-esque domino fall that somehow ends with Izzy K.O.’ed. How did this happen? Fuck if he knows. The logic he’s worked under all his life says it’s impossible and yet... here he lies.

Honestly, I ramble because competence is SUCH an important part of Izzy’s character. Competence is what’s allowed him to survive into his 50′s (unless he’s really 16 lol), help build the Blackbeard legend, and gain the kind of respect that has the crew (initially) jumping at his command. Izzy knows that he’s competent. His entire, prickly personality is built on being competent, particularly when competence is used as a defense mechanism. (No need to grapple with feelings when he can just kill someone.) More importantly, he knows that, under ordinary circumstances, not being competent gets you killed. He’s watching Ed trade in protective leather for lace shirts, fill up on marmalade, turn sword training into a flirting session, admire model ships instead of formulating plans — all these things that should, according to the rules Izzy has spent his entire life living by, get them all killed. We know Stede wouldn’t survive a day in the world of “real” pirates, where Izzy originally hails from. Izzy knows it too. We know Stede survives anyway because this is a rom-com and he’s the lead. But Izzy doesn’t know what genre he’s in; certainly not that the genre has changed — and fuck, if the rules of the universe changed once before, who’s to say they won’t suddenly change again? What if he wakes up one day on a frilly ship, with a useless crew, a domesticated Blackbeard, and the world is a horrifying mess of cruelty and violence again? They’d be screwed. He’s running around bitching about plans, munitions, ship speed, killing pets, formal duels, and yes, avoiding “namby-pamby” soft things because dammit of course those things matter. They always have. Yes everyone needs specific duties because otherwise the ship falls apart and they all die. What do you mean the ship isn’t falling apart while everyone eats marmalade and has gay sex? That’s not possible.

Imagine you were a crazy competent member of society according to current social norms. Maybe you’re highly educated, have a six-figure job, are meeting all the expectations for a family, you’re considered conventionally attractive, you eat well, go to the gym every day, have impressive hobbies, give to charity on the regular, maintain a thriving friend group — in every way that your peers might judge your worth within this specific social circle, you are killing it. Then you wake up one random morning and, as Badminton puts it, you’ve entered Backwards Land. People suddenly laugh at your well-balanced lunch because pff, what do you mean you’re not just eating a bucket of candy like the rest of us? Certain public displays that would have been unthinkable 24 hours ago are suddenly occurring on every street corner. You walk in to a promotion meeting with a detailed report on why your work of the last 30 years is worth recognition. The new hire suggests they have a face-paint party instead of running the company and your boss is like, “Well damn if that isn’t the best suggestion anyone’s ever given me. You’re promoted!”

What?

Izzy is fascinating in part because he’s a HYPER-COMPETENT individual who took to his toxic, violent, homophobic, highly repressed society like a duck to water, only to find one day that the rules of the universe had changed (for the better) but whoops, nothing he’s good at suddenly has a foothold anymore. You’re an expert at running a ship? Ships are just a backdrop to romance and it doesn’t matter if there’s, you know, ammunition, or whatever. Supplies — like oranges — only matter if they’re forwarding relationships. You’re an expert swordsman? Yeah, good luck winning a rigged fight where literally anything goes provided it’s funny enough (and you, as a tightly-strung rule follower, are not funny). Your entire identity is built around intimidating and executing people? The queer polycule thinks your threats are hilarious and if you strand people on a desert island their lighthouse captain will just row to them in a single scene; the guy tossed overboard will just climb into the walls and sustain himself on paper or something. You’re Alice in Wonderland except you don’t remember falling down the hole. The fact that Lucius’ cut off finger is used for a moment of (wonderfully gross) humor and he’s totally fine when he wakes up, whereas Izzy’s severed toe is more straightforwardly horrific and requires a cane, just highlight that they’re living in different genres. For Lucius, a severed finger is a moment of comedy (Dutch fuckery) and romance (Pete whittling him a replacement). For Izzy, a severed toe is a moment of devotion to a toxic relationship (eating it on Blackbeard’s command) and a #SeriousInjury that he literally can’t walk off. Izzy’s got the worst of both worlds at the moment: governed by his original, gritty genre and unable to circumvent or reap the rewards of the rom-com.

Which only leaves the question of whether Izzy will remain the tragic figure — but still very humorous for the viewer — who is either killed or permanently exiled due to his inability to adapt? Or will he grudgingly (oh so grudgingly) turn himself over to this new set of rules? I’m personally hoping for the latter BUT with moments here and there where the gritty drama bleeds into the rom-com; moments where things suddenly do become legitimately perilous and Izzy’s honed skills once again become necessary for survival. Like Ed who moves from the poetry-loving Edward into the murderous Kraken, Izzy has the potential to move between and/or straddle genres in some pretty entertaining ways.

[mangop1e]

yo please do elaborate on your build mart appreciation

HELLO ANON THANK U FOR ASKING ME ABOUT BUILD MART

okay so let's get my personal biases out of the way. i'm a builder. i cannot pvp or parkour for SHIT when i play minecraft, i like games that involve resource management, and so from a very personal perspective build mart seems like a game that i would have a lot of fun playing and that means i have a lot of fun watching!

from a more analytical perspective:

build mart fills a niche that isn't covered by most other games in the event. contrary to popular belief it doesn't really rely on being a good builder or having building skill as a way to be good at the game; it relies moreso on team communication and resource management, which are staples of what makes mcc so fun to watch. (a lot of mcc's games are reliant on team communication as a mechanic, which adds an element of uncertainty to every game that makes it more enjoyable to watch; you can have the world's best pvp team and yet if they don't communicate well they could have a bad survival games run. this is most visible, in my opinion, in sands of time and build mart) while to an extent having a good memory, knowledge of what blocks would fit into which categories around the build mart map, and ability to maneuver with an elytra can help you complete builds in the shortest time possible, i would argue the most important part of build mart is knowing how to communicate effectively with your team.

this aspect of team communication is what i think can set apart a good game from a great game. it's very visible in the changes made between parkour warrior and parkour tag, and why i think parkour tag is way better: in parkour warrior, your success is completely hinged on your level of skill in parkour. you don't need to communicate with your team at all for it; in fact, people will often mute their teammates in order to focus during that game. compare this to parkour tag: teammates are constantly communicating, whether that's the runners keeping tabs on where the hunter is so that they can best plot their routes to avoid them, or the team's hunter communicating when runners are caught so the team can easily know what their status is compared to the opposing team and how close they are to winning or losing the match. this makes the game much more enjoyable to watch, even if the person you're watching isn't necessarily good at parkour.

if you want an example of a really good build mart, watch orange ocelots mcc17! grian takes the role as the 'manager' of their whole team, with sb being a floater, and the way this is executed is incredible. grian in particular stands out on that team, being able to keep tabs on what is needed and redirecting all communication of resources from false and pete towards sb, and giving sb clear instructions on when to prioritize certain resources in order to complete specific builds that only needed a few more blocks.

i think build mart gets a lot of slander because the people who dislike it, usually movement or pvp players, are very vocal about their distaste for it. and those players also tend to be pretty popular, so a lot of the audience will agree with them. i can't decide for you whether or not build mart is enjoyable to watch, but i personally think it's a really good game that brings in a different set of skills than something like battle box, sky battle, tgttosawaf, or parkour tag, and in my opinion it's absolutely key to keeping mcc as a balanced and enjoyable event!

tl;dr: build mart slaps because it makes people communicate and tests different skills than most of the pvp or parkour focused games will, which is key to keeping the event varied and balanced

[neptuneofthesky]

MCC 15 WINNER'S POV [RECAP]

RED RABBITS

DREAM

MICHAELMCCHILL

QUACKITY

SAPNAP

I was a little bit late, I first joined Quakcity’s stream to listen to his mcc song, which was great by the way!! (go listen to it!!)

Quackity said that he is Florida, that is why he isn’t using the green screen, Dream is in the next room, and Sapnap is streaming from the bathroom.

Then I joined Dream’s stream and I was there the whole time.

1st Game, Parkour Tag

Dream was a god in parkour tag, like, it was literally a manhunt, he hunted them faster than me desperately trying to fall asleep. That's all I want to say. He popped off.

They ended up in 3rd place overall.

2nd Game, Battle Box

The pinks dunked the reds lol.

Quackity popped off in battle box.

They did really good at the beginning of the battle box but then the victory ✨ got in their head ✨ but they still won 6/9 ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), they overall did really really well.

Quackity was doing really well, he was in Hall of fame at 8th place after battle box, and Sapnap was in first!

They were still in 3rd place overall.

Dream told Tubbo that he hated him, then jk<3. He also said hi to Niki.

3rd Game, Sky Battle

First-round

Dream said that his aim was very off today.

Quackity said that don’t let it get to his head.

Dream laughed and said that it's already in my head.

Dream got 3 kills.

Michael got 1 kill.

Quackity got 1 kill.

Sapnap got 2 kills.

The round ends and they got 2nd place.

Second-round

Dream got 5 kills.

Michael got 1 kill.

Quackity got 2 kills.

Sapnap got 3 kills.

The round end and they end up in 3rd place.

Third-round

Dream got 8 kills.

Michel got 2 kills.

Quackity got 2 kills.

Sapnap got 7 kills.

The last round ends and they end up in 2nd place in Sky Battle.

They end up in second place overall.

p.s. pink parrots did really well and ended up in the first place overall<3

4th Game, Sands Of Time

Dream had a bg of a different dteam fanart this time.

I don’t really know what to put about sands of time, because it was really fun just to watch, they had really nice communication and coordination.

And Michael popped off.

They coined 2754 coins.

And Dream threw tomatoes at Tommy and then twerked.

They end up in 2nd place overall.

Sapnap was in 2nd place, Dream was in 4th place, Quackity was in 10th place and Michael was in 13th place.

p.s. pink parrots were awesome and were in the first place then<3

5th Game, Hole In The Wall

Hbomb subbed in Pete, they were happy because of that, they were also happy because they manipulated the votes. (in this round, it was the fan voting for the game thing)

Dream privately messaged Wilbur.

Dream: ily

Dream: jk

Wilbur: I need space

Dream: wtf

Also, Sapnap went to change his pants because his balls were getting bigger.

First-round

Dream said that they were not colorblind so they won’t have any problem.

Sapnap won the first round, he did the Hbomb glitch thing, and he said he loved glitches and he loved Hbomb and he wanted him to be his cat maid.

Second-round

Everyone said ranboo looks snazzy and complimented him in the chat.

Also, they had this conversation:

Sapnap: "I am so hot and sexy."

Dream agreed with him.

Quackity: "You have a hot and juicy ass."

Sapnap: "You would sure like a piece of it."

Quackity: "Oh wait, I didn't put my clothes back on."

Sapnap: "No, no, keep them off."

Dream: "Okay guys, spam space harder than Quackity spams his mother- wait I mean how hard I spam his mother."

Quackity: "That was messed up, dude."

Dream: "Spam space harder than George tries to see colors."

Quackity: "Yes, I like that. I will spam space harder than I spam George's mother."

Sapnap again won, this time it was a glitchless win.

And Quackity said that is why Sapnap has big balls.

Third-round

They kept talking about how big Sapnap's balls will get when he wins this one too.

Sapna ended up in 10th place.

Dream ended up in 4th place.

Sapnap ended up 1st in top players of hole in the wall.

Their team also ended up in first place in hole in the wall.

Red rabbits ended up in first place overall.

Sapnap was in 1st place.

Dream was in 3rd place

Quackity was in 16th place.

Michael was in 20th place.

Sapnap said that he was nervous about TGTTOSAWAF, so Dream hyped him up, then Quackity and Michael followed, then they continued to talk about Sapnap’s balls.

6th Game, Ace Race

Sapnap went to pee, they said it's a part of Strat.

Then started to diss Sylvee during their second lap.

They all did trash, except sapnap, he ended up in 12th place.

Tommy whispered to Dream, 'dumb fuck'.

They all agreed that the map was indeed pretty, but they didn't like it.

Then everyone hypes up Niki<3.

They end up in last place in Ace race.

But still, Sapnap was in 1st place overall and Dream was in 4th place overall.

They dropped to third place overall.

7th game, TGTTOSAWAF

Greens dunked pinks lol.

First-round

They ran the freaking ad everywhere, so I couldn’t see the first half.

Michael, unfortunately, couldn’t complete it, so they hyped him up.

Second-round

Michael again didn’t make it, so they hyped him up, and told him and Quackity to follow Dream.

Third-round

They all made it this time, and Michael ended up in 6th place!

Fourth-round

Again, they all finished, and their team was in 4th place.

Fifth-round

Sapnap ended in 2nd place! Unfortunately, Quackity couldn’t complete it.

Sixth-round

Tommy was pissing off Sapnap since he also screwed him up in the 2nd round. Unfortunately, quackity couldn’t complete the race again so they hyped him up.

Then they ran ads so I don’t know what they were talking about, but according to the chat, they were still hyping each other up

Red rabbits ended up in 4th place overall.

p.s. Pink parrots ended up in first place overall<3

8th game, Survival Games

They decided to do the buddy strat, Michael will stick with Dream, Quackity will stick with Sapnap.

Quacky: "You are my side bitch Sapnap."

Sapnap: "No, YOU are my side bitch."

And Sapnap got excited so Dream told him to not be out for blood. [that is such a cool dialogue I am definitely using that in their dynamic]

They also decided to stay away from people.

Their coordination was really good, even tho someone straight-up went in, the other pointed it out. They all listened to each other.

Survival games were really really fun to watch, they freaking popped off, like actually popped off, they were in first place. I recommend watching it from their pov!

They overall got first place<3.

Also, Sapnap got 4k points and was in 1st place, Dream was in 3rd place.

The Final Showdown: Dodgebolt

Red Rabbits vs Yellow Yaks

Sapnap went to take a piss.

I myself had to take a piss, but the hype was too much. And it was 3 am then.

They all said it's a win-win situation, because if they win they will be happy, and if yellow wins, which has Captain Sparklez in it, which will break his curse, will also make them happy.

First-round

Sylvee and Quig hyped red up.

Tommy said he’ll be happy if red loses and he’ll clip it. (/j)

Sapnap got Punz and Jack.

Seapeekay got Quackity and Michael.

Dream got Captain Sparklez and Seapeekay.

Red rabbits won the 1st round.

Second-round

Captain Sparklez got Michael.

Sapnap got Punz, Seapeekay and Captain Sparklez (king popped off).

Sylvee was continuously hyping them up, along with Wilbur.

Jack got Sapnap.

Dream got Jack.

Red rabbits won the 2nd round too.

Third-round.

Sapnap got captain sparkle

Punz shot Sapnap.

Dream shot Punz and Seapeekay and Jack.

WIN FOR RED RABBITS!!

Sapnap got 1st place AND 4k points, so close to Techno’s record! Congrats Sapnap!

It was 3:16 am, and it was worth it!

And then Dream raided Sapnap, and stayed on his stream along with Michael, Scott, Ant, Punz, Hbomb (these were the only people I could comprehend). Niki thanked Sapnap and Dream and because their chat sent support to Niki during ace race, Dream and Sapnap said thank you for acknowledging that we sent you support(/s), and Quackity was talking with the pinks and Jack.

Then they just discussed the game and a couple of other things, I wasn’t really concentrating because I was pooping. At 3:30 am.

Quackity raided sapnap and joined their call along with Jack.

And the thing I comprehended was that Sylvee was so supportive of red rabbits that she drowned all the “hate”(/j) comments. And they again talked about stuff.

They talked about who they want to team with next mcc.

And then Sylvee joined their call and talked about the game

And then they continued to talk about things, I was drunk by then. I was drunk on the fact that I am not asleep yet, and its almost 4 am.

Quackity popped off in battle box. Congrats to him for his first win ever!

Also, Michael popped off in sands of time, also congrats to him for his first win! (/j) [this is based on a joke guys made in the beginning that it's first time for Michael to play in a mcc ever]

They also made jokes about how Michael is a mcc virgin(/j) and Quackity lost his mcc virginity last time. and Sapnap also mentioned that Dream was there when Sapnap lost his mcc virginity

They fucked it up in the ace race, but their comeback in survival games was amazing and phenomenal.

And truly, survival games, ugh, they popped off my lord. and if it was build mart instead, they were fucked.

They broke a curse too, this was the first win for a red rabbits team!!

Also, pink did really well, but they screwed up in the survival games., that's why they got third place.

During the survival games, Dream said that they won’t engage on the pinks because they didn't want to mess up their first place.

Everyone had really fun, and I also had really fun watching it. I’d recommend you all to go listen to Quackity’s song if you haven’t already, and watch the survival games from different povs!

And once again, CONGRATS RED RABBITS!!!

[cat-26]

I am once again sending all my notes I took while watching Techno’s POV.

Overall thoughts:

I love how Techno seemed genuinely enjoying the competition while also not feeling overly stressed (like he did when he was with Dream for example)

The team worked so well together, it was great. I hope we get to see Techno with some of them again.

Sleepy bois got their win, I’m glad Dream team got theirs too (and now everyone can be sad together that their team won’t happen again)

Okay the actual live comments:

Game 1: Hole in the Wall

Hahaha the death message is “Dream! Don’t fall asleep”

What happened to HITW? Why are people so good now? Are the walls too easy?? WHAT??

Crazy how when Pete is not here the point difference between the winning team and the rest is really small.

Game 2: Sky Battle

Techno has a whole plan. This man wants to win. Please let the plan work.

Grian has now added Techno to his kill list; this man is unstoppable.

The 3rd round was so weird: Techno died really early but got many kills, and Quig was focusing Cyan instead of the actual teams that had the most points (but maybe he just spawned next to them so it was opportunity)

Tommy is doing so good. That’s for everyone that said their team would throw.

-

Techno looking for candy in the intermission between games has strong grinch simulator vibes.

Game 3: Rocket Spleef

I know nothing about tf2, but I find it so funny how Techno judges other people based on what role they play (and how he loses all respect when the play heavy, whatever that is)

I want to see Phil’s POV of this. He said he had a great strat, and it seems to work.

Dream? He okay? (A SWAT team, really chat?)

Lime is also doing very well. Of course people that use elytra all the time (hermitcraft and Phil) are amazing at this game. 

Techno got 1st overall!!! YEAH!!!! (And he was saying he was average at it in the pre game hahaha)

Cyan is #1!!! GOOO

Tommy’s team is doing well, go them!

Game 4: Ace Race

They trained for Ace Race? How??

Techno is killing it, I feel I’m watching Pete. Incredible. AMAZING. He doesn’t miss anything!!

He is so focused, so quiet with small comments and motivating his team. This is awesome.

“This must be how PeteZahHut feels” YESS TECHNO AND YOU DESTROYED

He finished 30 seconds ahead of everyone!!

I am actually so happy right now, I felt I was watching my favorite team sports, what has happened to me.

Techno made a training guide video for his team! He really wants to win (please let him win)

Techno got 1 to 3rd fastest laps. GO TECHNO

Audience takeover:

OF COURSE Techno has a strat to rig the vote. A-J vote one thing, the rest votes another… “I looked it up, that should be 50% of the population” Okay, Techno. Okay.

Game 5: TGTTOS

1st round: Techno’s evil laugh when watching Dream get 30+ hahaha

2nd round: GO TAPL!!!!!!

3rd: Techno is doing so well this tournament, I really hope it pays off (or that he doesn’t beat himself up if it doesn’t)

4th: “Dream you suck” after Dream punches him. Is it me or is Techno much more vocal about the “rivalry” this stream? (Usually I feel he doesn’t really say anything except in the small rants)

It would be so fun for Lime to get dodgebolt! (I doubt it though)

Game 6: Build Mart

Techno knows recipes? What?

Great team communication! 

Techno is multitasking, he is doing incredible.

BBC got so many points

Game 7: Parkour

I hate parkour. 

His little “don’t choke Technoblade” is going to kill me. 

“It’s the Skeppy parkour”

I hate parkour.

They are blowing up the map and I can’t see anything because Techno is in the void. 

Cyan is 3rd. Oh no. Please let them win the last game; please let the last game be battle box. Pleaseee

Game 8: Sands of Time

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

Puffy lost 1300 coins but even with those it doesn’t seem like they did too good.

Okay they lost by a lot. I’m actually a little bit sad, Techno tried so hard, his team was awesome.

THEY GOT 6TH PLACE?????? THEY DID SO BAD THE LAST FEW GAMES OH MY GOD 6TH PLACE

Dodgebolt: Dream team vs HBomb team

If H wins a 4th time, I swear.

You know, sleepy bois got their win, and I doubt they will let DTeam win again even if they don’t win. So go DTEAM YOU DESERVE THIS WIN 

(but also scott if we can’t have techno-quig or techno-hbomb, we shouldn’t have dream-sapnap are you kidding?? and with george?)

GO DREAM TEAM

hahahahaha Techno has “Dream support” censored in his chat

THEY WON!! Good for them!!!

Karl: “one of us is a champion, the other is Technoblade” hahahaha

Oh no Techno is making cursed dream fanart on stream, I’m going to have nightmares

[mshermia]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 25 - CAR ACCIDENT

On a cold winter night on their way home after a dinner at the Stark's cabin, Peter, May and Happy get into an accident. Tony rushes to the scene to help, terrified that it might be too late.

-----

It's still Febuary *somewhere* in the world, right? Also, is there a penalty for starting too many WIPs? Asking for a friend...

AO3 Link

CW: (Minor) Characted Death

-----

Tony's heart was racing. It was beating so fast he'd had to silence FRIDAY's emergency alert twice, overriding the blaring alarm entirely the second time to just make her shut up. It was sheer panic that had his pulse spin out of control and there was nothing, nothing that FRIDAY's empty words and warnings would do about it.

The road was dark and winding, trees closely lining either side of him. Despite the snow and ice that hung heavy on the branches and had powdered the ground into what Morgan had described as a 'winter wonderland', the road was dry and clear. Just as well because Tony was driving as fast as he dared. Maybe a little faster than that.

It didn't matter that he was speeding. He was still not going fast enough to keep the horror scenarios at bay, the nagging fear that every attempt he made now would be too little, too late anyway. They might be dead already.

Tony pulled in a deep breath through his teeth that sounded too close to a sob even to his own ear. Desperate, he pressed down a bit further on the gas paddle but instead of going even faster, the car suddenly lost a significant amount of speed.

"What the fuck is happening?" His hand hit the steering wheel, his foot coming down harder on the accelerator. "FRIDAY, for fuck's sake--"

"Boss, we are only about three miles out from the last signal I received from Peter Parker's car. The heightened possibility of an active game path or hidden black ice that could have led to the accident increase the closer--"

"FRIDAY, override code two-double-seven Stark."

"Override denied."

Tony cursed, followed by a deep guttural groan. "I will fucking melt you down to your integral components if you don't do as I tell you right this second!"

"I'm afraid you cannot use your override code again for another 23 hours and 49 minutes."

"For fuck's sake, FRIDAY! Fucking get me there as fast as possible!"

He should have just taken a suit. He hadn't been thinking, had just reacted. His suits had been stored and locked away in the basement of the cabin for years. Three and a half years of retirement had changed his instincts more than he had realized and now, he was fucked for it.

It had been such a great day. Just that morning he had been out in the snow with Morgan. The older she got the harder a task it was to drag her out of the house for some fresh air with her old man, but as soon as he had her out the door in the snow, it was a joy.

Peter, May and Happy had arrived with cake in the afternoon and then stayed through dinner. The three of them had grown so close over the years. It had been hard work, no doubt. As much as the survivors had suffered after the Snap, the undoing of it came with its own struggles.

Tony should have made them stay the night. He should have just fucking made them!

The miles were crawling by and Tony's eyes flashed back and forth between the road ahead and the map where the GPS signal of the car was blinking red and rapidly, mocking him. 

The location it indicated was right by the river. If the car had skidded off the street, if they had slipped into the water. The temperatures were way below freezing out there. If they had hit the water...

Tony's stomach turned as he was finally coming up to the scene of the accident. The forest opened up towards the river on his right side, but there was no car in sight. The road was empty. 

Then he saw it, tire marks that ran off the lane. There was a bit of a bend in the road where the river was closest to the street barrier, but that barrier was gone now.

Panic rushing in Tony's ears, he pulled his car off the road into the snow on the other side of the street near the trees. His hands were shaking as he swung open the door. 

"HELP! P-PLEASE..."

"Pete!" 

The kid's voice was croaky and weak. Even without seeing him, it was abundantly clear that Peter was crying, bordering on hysterical. Still, it was better than the silence Tony had dreaded.

"Tony! Oh... oh god... please... Tony, please... I... I can't, I... oh god..."

Tears shot into his eyes at the desperation that swung in his kid's voice. Tony sprinted towards the sound. He had almost crossed the street when his feet were practically ripped from underneath him. As if in slow motion his arms were spinning like propellers trying to fight gravity. His only luck was that he had been rushing just enough to land on the ground next to the road instead of breaking his tailbone on the asphalt. 

Black ice.

Tony didn't hold back. He cursed as loud and as strongly as the little breath he had left would allow him while he struggled back to his feet. 

It was freezing out and idiot that he was, he hadn't even brought a jacket. Not that he felt the cold but with every curse he blew out, a cloud of white breath formed in front of his face. That was until his breath was gone entirely, robbed by the scene in front of him.

The car was in the water alright, halfway submerged under the cold waves right next to the shore. The only reason it hadn't been pushed out and even further under was Peter who stood on the far side of the car, water up to his chest, fighting against nature itself.

"Help," Peter cried, just as exhausted as desperate. "I can't... can't... much longer... Tony... please... please help them..."

Despite himself, Tony had frozen. He shouldn't freeze like that. He would never have frozen like that before. He was Iron Man after all. Had fought intergalactic battles and... and... now, at the disaster unfolding in front of him, he didn't even know where to begin.

"They're... in the back... Tony... please... plea—Urgh!" 

The car moved another inch further into the river and the shock of it, the pitiful whine from Peter finally pushed Tony into action. 

"I'm here, buddy! It'll... help's on the way, okay! Just... just hold on a little longer, Pete."

Tony's ripped the door to the backseat open easily enough, his eyes straight on the two unmoving figures slumped in their seats, belts still buckled tightly.

"I... I don't know what happened, I... oh god," Peter sobbed. "We... we were fine, we were—"

"It'll be alright, Pete! Just... just concentrate, okay? I'll... I'll be quick. I'll get them out!" 

Happy legs were submerged entirely. There was a cut on his face, blood running down the side of it. He was pale, too pale.

"Hey, Hap... Happy, come on!" Tony shook him, then pulled Happy's face towards him. "Come on, now! Don't leave me hanging! Fucking... May? May, wake up, come on!" 

Neither of them gave even a twitch as Tony reached across Happy into the icy water. The seat belt came off at once. There was no time to lose. Between the water and the limp body, Tony tried his best to heave Happy out of the car. His arms were straining under Happy's weight. The angle was awkward and difficult to pull at but every whimper from the kid holding this ship afloat spurred Tony on to be faster, to be better. So he did, just because he had to, adrenaline and panic giving him a boost.

He managed to maneuver Happy onto the ground next to the road. By instinct, Tony pressed his shaky fingers against Happy's neck, searching for a pulse but he felt nothing. His throat was so tight, he desperately gasped for air, eyes burning with fear. It was just his fingers. Had to be. His fingers were cold and numb and there was no point in even trying. Peter's voice tore him away from his friend, back into action. Peter was still begging for help, May still trapped in the car.

The water seemed to have risen further in the car. His legs were spasming from the cold, arms and hands numb and heavy as he waded through it, trying to get to May. Her head was bowed low, the water almost at her mouth. It wasn't until Tony had gotten this close to her that he saw the dent in her side of the car.

They hadn't just skidded clean off the road then but hit something along the way. 

Tony held her by the shoulder, trying to keep her upright and out of the seat belt so he could unbuckle it. The hand on her shoulder came away stained dark. In the low light, he could only guess it was blood.

Through the window, Pete's face looked back at him, trembling lips stained dark likely turning blue from the cold. "Tony!"

"I'm right here, bud," Tony breathed, possibly too quiet.

"Are... are they alive?" Peter's words were mumbled, difficult to make out. They were running out of time.

"They'll both be fine, buddy, okay? Just... just hold on a little longer!" Tony slung his arms around May and crossed them over her chest. With short strong pulls, he moved her further and further towards the open door, towards the safety of the shore. "May, you have to wake up," he whispered, his own voice heavy with fear. "This... shit... you can't do this to him. Not like this. Not—"

He yelped as the car slid further into the water.

"I... I got it, I..." Peter winced and there was another jolt. "Tony... get her out! Get out! Get out!"

His own panic gave Tony wings. Another two pulls later and he had finally freed May from the car. 

"I got her," Tony yelled in Peter's general direction. "Get out of the water, buddy. Careful now!"

By the time he had laid May down right next to Happy, Peter was rushing to his side.

"Are they okay? Tony, please... are they... oh, oh god, no, please, I—"

Tony turned fast. Both hands cradling Peter's face, he made him look right at him. "Everything will be fine, okay? Go to my car and get the first aid kit out of the trunk."

"But—"

"Listen to me!" Peter's eyes had already moved down to the lifeless forms of May and Happy again, but Tony gave his head one good shake, fighting to get his attention back. "Go to the car. Watch out for the ice. I need your help now, Pete!"

Eyes wide, Pete nodded. His tears were mixing with blood streaming down from the cuts on his face, leaving smudged dark lines all across it. He moved fast enough. That was a good sign. His clothes were soaked through, sticking to him as he rushed towards the car. Before Tony could warn him again, Peter slipped just like Tony had, just like the car had. He fell hard on his left side.

"Shit, you okay?" Tony's stomach turned at the sight of the kid, as he lay there for a moment, not getting back up. "Peter, are you—"

"M fine." A lot more carefully than before, he struggled back to his feet.

"Get the blankets, too!" 

Tony knelt down between May and Happy, once again he pressed the index and middle finger of both his hands against either of their throats. The way his own heart was rushing, it would be a miracle if—

He gasped. There was a flutter, a sign of life on Happy. Tony had clearly felt it. There was hope then. This... they could make it out of this! 

His eyes shifted to May but even by the time Peter had made it back, blankets and first aid kit in hand, Tony had no idea if May was even still with them.

Just in case, Tony started with compressions, desperate to be subtle about it but there was no way for Peter to miss what was happening.

"What... Tony? Tony, what are... are you doing? Wha—" The sob that had Pete stop mid-word hit Tony squarely where it hurt most.

"My fingers are really numb, kid, okay? I just... I'm not sure. It's... just as a precaution."

"She... she doesn't... oh god, she has no pulse, she has no—"

"Pete, listen to me." Tony's body was aching from the cold, from the adrenaline rush. From the loss that he might not be able to protect the kid from. "The paramedics will get here and then they'll warm them up, okay? Put that blanket around Happy and then get in my car. Get out of those wet clothes and turn on the heater."

"No," he mumbled. "No, no, I... please... this can't be... I can't—"

"Peter!" Tony was losing focus and with that the count on the compressions. "Blanket! Happy! Come on now! I need you, buddy."

The kid's wet sobs rang in Tony's ears, as Pete took one of the blankets and wrapped it around Happy. Before Tony could say anything else, he took the second blanket and wrapped that one around the lower half of May's body.

It felt like endless hours but couldn't have taken more than a couple more minutes until sirens and lights finally flashed up in the distance. Tony had to practically force Peter to stay back while they put first Happy then May onto stretchers and into the emergency vehicle. Just as quickly, Tony made Peter get into the car to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

Peter refused to take off the wet shirt but at least discarded his pants and wrapped himself in the blanket. The blanket that had been covering May just moments before. He used the corner of it to hide his face, leaning heavily against the door. Away from Tony.

"How are you feeling, bud?" It was a fucked up question, but he had to know what he was dealing with. Tony's eyes flickered back and forth between the street and Peter. "Are you hurt? Anything other than the cuts on your face?"

Peter's hand pushed the fabric of the blanket away at that, shaky fingers fumbling across his skin, looking for cuts.

"Stop that!" Tony reached out to him but jerked away at the icy coldness of Peter's hands. "Geezes, kid! Rub those together, okay? Warm them up! Put them on the seat!"

"I'm fine," he hissed, face turned back towards the window.

There was little Tony could do. He couldn't stop, couldn't take his eyes off the road either. All he had left was mumbling reassurances how everything would be okay. Lies, nothing more. Tony had no idea if any of this would ever be okay again.

They arrived at the hospital just after the ambulance. Peter didn't even wait for him to come to a full stop.

"Kid, just-- Fuck..." Tony rushed after him into the hospital.

The neon lights were blindingly bright, almost like spotlights on a stage. He felt uncomfortably exposed, his wet clothes still clinging to him. Peter had already made it to the reception, the blanket still wrapped around his waist. He... shit. He wasn't even wearing shoes. Tony wasn't sure if he had lost them in the water or had simply taken them off in the car along with his soaked pants. 

Either way, his wide-eyed panic and torn-up look had already attracted hospital security. Peter's fist banging against the reception desk as he demanded to see his aunt, didn't help either.

"Hey... hey!" Tony had stormed after him just in time to push a tall guy in hospital uniform off his kid. "Take your hands off him and get a damn doctor!"

"Sir, this is a hospital, not a carnival," the security guard growled. "There are procedure and—"

"We came in alongside the ambulance, you clown!" Tony was pointing a finger squarely at the man's chest. "My son was in a car accident. He was in the river. I need a doctor!"

"No, I need to see my aunt!" Peter was panting. "My aunt was in the ambulance I need to—"

Tony grabbed him by his shoulder and forced the kid to turn towards him. "Pete, they—"

He froze, Peter's face looked so much worse under the light than it had in the dark of the road. His lips were blue, pupils fully blown despite the bright light and his skin was so pale, he looked un-dead. The bad kind. Tears and blood from the cuts on his face were smeared all over his face.

"Jeezes, kid! You..." Tony spun around towards the receptionist. "I need a fucking doctor! He was in the river 15, 20 minutes!"

Peter stepped up right next to Tony, both hands holding onto the desk. "I'm fine! I'm not even shaking! I just need to see my aunt!"

"You're hypothermic, Peter!" Tony's adrenaline spiked as high as it had back on the road when he had spotted Peter standing in the icy waves.

"Gentlemen, let's calm down." Finally, a doctor had walked up behind them. "What is the—" The man stopped midsentence as he took in Peter's face. "Come with me."

"No," Peter growled again. "I need to check on my aunt!"

The doctor wasn't much taller than Peter but he squared his shoulders and stepped up close into his space. He eyed him for a moment, his face hard. "What do you think your aunt will say if she wakes up and I will have to tell her that you died from hypothermic cardiac arrest, hm?"

Peter's mouth clapped shut at once. Fresh tears fell off his lashes.

"Doctor Gordon," the receptionist interrupted. "The patient's personal data needs—"

"Just give the man a damn form," the doctor barked at him as he grabbed a hold of Peter's upper arm and dragged him along.

With ease, Tony snatched the forms from the receptionist's hands and quickly followed the doctor to the closest treatment room. Inside, Doctor Gordon asked his name as he checked his pupils and lungs. Then he had Peter strip off the last of his wet clothes and wrapped him in a hospital gown. In quick progression people carried equipment into the room, starting with heated blankets that two nurses wrapped around him before they helped Peter to lie down on a padded stretcher.

One of the nurses fitted a breathing mask over Peter's mouth as Gordon leaned over him and carefully untangling one of Peter's arms from the blanket. "We'll use humidified oxygen to rewarm your airway. Additionally, we— ah, yes, thank you, Leslie." The nurse had carried in a bag of fluids that she fitted to the stand next to Peter. "It's a warmed saltwater solution to help warm your blood back up. Now, you'll start shivering soon, but that completely normal as your body warms back up. Your dad can stay with you, okay?"

"Okay," Peter mumbled through the masks, his eyes finding Tony's.

Two quick steps and Tony was right next to him, grabbing his hand just after the nurse had fitted the IV.

"And Leslie," the doctor called out to her. "Can you organize dry clothes and a heated blanket for Mr. Stark here as well, please."

Tony sucked in a breath before he turned towards Gordon. "Thank you."

"Why don't you take care of those forms, then we can get you an update on Peter's aunt?"

The forms balanced on the foot of Peter's bed, Tony quickly filled out all three of them - May, Happy and Peter - while nurse Leslie cleaned and taped up the cuts on Peter's face. The doctor hadn't been gone more than a couple of minutes. The nurse was still busy with Peter's face when the kid called out to him.

"Just... please... can you make sure they are fine? I just..." Peter swallowed hard, his eyes still wet. "I need to know that they... that they—"

"Alright, buddy." Tony squeezed his hand then as the nurse turned away to grab a pair of scissors, he stepped close and pressed his lips against the kid's cold forehead. "You stay right here, okay?"

With a quick glance to either side of the waiting room, Tony strode back towards the registration desk. There weren't many patients in, even fewer people waiting in the seated area for friends and relatives. Less stress for the staff meant fewer mistakes and Tony would not be able to live with any more mistakes tonight.

He slid the filled-out forms across the table towards the receptionist. "I need an update on May Parker and Harold Hogan."

The receptionist's eyebrows were pulled up high. "And your relation to Mrs. Parker and Mr. Hogan is?"

"She's my son's legal guardian," Tony bit out. "He's my brother."

He pursed his lips, shuffling through the documents. "The doctor will find you when—"

"No!" Tony's fist crashed against the wood of the desk. "I need an update right now!"

"Sir, you will get an update when we have an update to give, or do you want me to drag one of the doctors away from the treatment and—"

"Fine!" Tony pulled both of his hands up and took a step away from the desk lest he'd strangle that arrogant little prick.

Instead, he stalked away from the man and fished his phone out of his pocket. There were two text messages from Pepper. One from almost an hour ago.

'FRIDAY filled me in. Call me as soon as you know more.'

Then another one from 12 minutes ago.

'Tony, please call me. I'm worried.'

Without a second thought, he did. The phone rang for all but two seconds before Pepper answered him.

"Tony? What's going on?"

He pressed his eyes shut. Just the sound of her voice had him tear up. "Hey, Pep..."

"FRIDAY puts your car at Ellenville Regional. Is everyone okay?"

"I... erm..." One hand steadied himself against the wall. "Pete's hypothermic."

"Oh no," she gasped.

Tony's eyes stung. "The car skidded into the river." He ignored her next gasp and pushed on, his voice low. "He held the car up and May and Happy I... I pulled them out when I got there. I'm... I don't know... Happy had a pulse at the scene but May, she..." He stopped himself, unable to keep going.

Just the thought of what it would mean if the worst were to happen... if it were to happen like this. Peter would never forgive himself.

"Oh my god, honey... I... I'll pack some things and I'll meet you there. Morgan, I'll... I'll just have to bring her and—"

"No!" His voice came out sharper than he intended. "You stay where you are!"

"Honey, I can't leave you all on your—"

"There's black ice out there on the very road that leads here. I don't want you on the street tonight."

"I... okay..." She was crying now. "Just... just call me, okay? Call me as soon as you know more."

"I will, Pep. I will. Just..." Tony blew out a breath and shot a glance over his shoulder at the commotion coming from the reception desk. "I gotta go. I love you, honey. Give Morgan a kiss."

He didn't hear his response, his heart pounding like a steam engine in his ears. The doctor that had just turned away from the registration desk locked eye with him, her expression sober as she walked over to him.

"Mr. Stark?"

Tony's limbs were numb. Somehow he knew. The way the lady was looking at him. How she held herself. He knew what she was going to say but his brain wouldn't let him accept just standing there and taking it. It seemed to float away, anywhere but here to just not hear it.

"I think maybe we should go and see your son as well. He is in treatment room 3, yes? We can just have... I have some information that—"

"No!" His voice was composed, so much more than he felt capable of. "No, you... you should tell me. Tell me here."

"Mr. Stark..." Her eyebrows were raised in sympathy. She even reached out to him, a soft hand placed on his lower arm. "I think it might be easier if we're all in a room together, so I can—"

"No." This one sounded less sure though he felt a lot more certain than before. Yeah, it would be easier. She was right. It would be easier for him, but telling Peter. No, that was his job. Not his job, his responsibility. "Just tell me."

It was an out-of-body experience to hear her say it. To hear her say how sorry she was. How despite their best efforts... May was gone. Was dead. That was what she said. Dead. Not 'gone'. Not 'had passed on'. She was dead.

They said that was important. That the words you used had to be the right ones. That there couldn't be any confusion.

"Mr. Hogan is currently receiving hemodialysis to rewarm his blood. His vitals so far are holding steady. We are hopeful that he will make it through the night and then we will have to go from there."

Hopeful that he might make it through the night. Hopeful. May Parker was dead.

"Mr. Stark?"

His eyes shot over at the doctor, blinking. He hadn't realized he had looked away. "Right, I... I guess I will... will go. Talk... talk to my kid." He swallowed hard.

"If you would like me to, I could—"

"No, I... I need to do this. For him. It's..."

He shook his head and without another word, Tony made his legs move, surprised that they did. His mind was still not with him, still flowing around him, unwilling to come back to him. One hand on the door, the other on the doorknob, Tony paused. Memories flashed in front of his eyes. Doctors in white coats who stood in front of him, informing him of his parents' passing.

It wouldn't happen to Peter like that. He wouldn't allow it. No strangers, no detached condolences by faceless shadows.

Tony took another breath like it would make him ready to do this, when nothing would ever make him ready for this. Waiting... waiting just made it worse so he pushed the door open, relieved to find Peter alone, still on the bed hooked up to the IV and the humidified oxygen.

Doubts crashed down on him. Maybe he should wait. Wait until Peter was more stable, had recovered.

"Tony?" The kid's voice was muffled by the mask, questioning more than panicked until it wasn't. Wasn't not panicked. "Tony, what... what is..."

He closed the door behind him, still holding onto it like the words would magically come to him. Tony knew what to say, the main thing to say was clear, way too clear and sharp and brutal, but how to begin?

In the end, he didn't need a preamble. In the end, that face he so prided himself on having control of, said it all for him.

"N-no..." Peter's eyes widened. With every breath the kid took, they came faster and faster until he was panting, sitting up in his bed. "No... oh... oh god, no... no!" The IV on Peter's arm dislodged before Tony had even had a chance to get to him. Peter ripped off the mask just as fast.

"Buddy, I... I'm so sorry, she—"

"No, don't!" Peter grabbed both of his arms just as Tony tried to pull him close. "Don't say it! Don't... don't say it!"

But Tony had to. He had to because if he didn't, Peter would never accept it, never. "I'm so sorry, kid. She died, she–"

Peter struggled against him, pushing him but not hard enough to move him. "Oh god, no... please... I... no, you're wrong! You're wrong!"

"Pete, I'm so sorry—"

"You... you need to call Doctor Cho! You need... you need to call her and then at.. at the Compound, they can save her, please!" The panic in Peter's eyes was threatening to strangle him, both of them, his hands erratically tearing on Tony's green scrubs. "We should have gone there right away! The cradle, they... please, please, you need to save her, Tony, please."

"Oh, buddy..." His heart hurt with every beat from the bare pain that was radiating off Peter. "Cho can't do that. She... she can't bring people back."

"We need to try, please! Please just... just try, just ask her to try!"

In a twisted way, Tony almost welcomed the way Peter's hands kept hitting him, almost relished in the sting of it. "The doctors tried reanimating her, buddy, but they couldn't. She..." It wasn't enough. He was chickening out. He had to say it properly, had to be strong for his kid who was crumbling right under his fingers. "May died. There's... there's nothing we can do, bud. May is dead."

The pained howl Peter pushed out chilled him to the bones, so much worse than the icy water of the river had. With it, Peter's arms went slack and he slumped forward into Tony's waiting arms. All he could do was hold him, be there. It wasn't much, it wouldn't make this any better but there was nothing else for Tony to do. He couldn't conquer death. He couldn't take this pain away.

Tony rocked him, back and forth, forgoing all the empty phrases of how it was alright. How they would get through this. Phrases that meant nothing, never had. No, instead, he told Peter how much he loved him. He told him over and over again, mumbled it into his hair, told him with the slow circled he rubbed into his back, with the way he held him up, tightly pressed against his own chest.

The desperate sobs that shook his kid broke Tony piece by piece. None of this was alright.

 -----

To be continued...

-----

Special thanks to @spagbol99 !

[just-a-happening]

Hide & Seek | P.P

Summary: In which a babysitting job goes awry for Peter and he needs your help tracking down a very special Avenger’s daughter.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2,705

Author’s Note: okay so this one is super long but I really, really love how it turned out. I’ve had this idea brewing in my head for a while and I didn’t think I’d ever get around to writing it because I didn’t think I’d be as into writing Peter stories but this might make me reconsider. I like to think this takes place in the months between Endgame and FFH. enjoy! xx

          There was a boy on your fire escape.

You recognized him almost immediately. He worked at the station behind you in Intro to Mechatronics with Ned Leeds, he sat two rows ahead of you in Chemistry and he was on the National Decathlon team with your friend MJ.

He also happened to live two floors above you.

Peter had his back to you, his body bent over the railing as if looking for something he’d dropped. You could hear him—“Shit! Shit! Shit!”— through the slightly ajar window, which you’d left cracked the night before.

You raised a fist to knock on the glass (softly, so you wouldn’t scare him) but before you got the chance, he perked up and whipped around to face you so fast you were the one who ended up startled.

His eyes met yours and his face flooded with disappointment.

You tried not to take it personally.

          “Oh! H-Hey,” he said, struggling to keep his tone casual. His hands hovered at his side awkwardly while he decided where to put them. In the end he just crossed them over his chest, still fidgeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, um, scare you. I just thought you might be someone else.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You were expecting someone else?” You made a point to gesture to your things. “Inside my bedroom?”

He winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “In my defence, I didn’t, uh, necessarily know this was your room, um, specifically.”

Over the last few months you and Peter had formed an odd kind of friendship.  

Entire apartment complexes were built around the city in the last year to accommodate the blipped. Families started reappearing in their old homes only to find that they were now someone else’s new one. In the chaos you and your family just so happened to have ended up in the same building as Peter Parker and his aunt.

Peter was always around, of course, which made it easy to fall into each other in a very casual, easy way. Many nights when you were too nervous to sleep you’d climb out onto the fire escape only to find Pete doing the same. You never talked about why you were both up, a kind of mutual understanding, so instead, you talked about everything else.

But sometimes you would run into him in class or you would both awkwardly reach for the front door and he would right through you—like you weren’t really there.

Everyone was recovering from the blip, but something told you Peter Parker lost more than just five years.

He was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet, his eyes scanning the levels below you. Curious, you pushed what was left of the pane up and copied him, your gaze landing on nothing other than Mrs. Sardowski’s rapidly wilting house plants. You frowned, sitting on the window’s ledge.

          “So,” you said, pulling his attention back to you. “What are you looking for?”

He let out a humourless chuckle. “It’s less of a what and more like a … who?”

You squinted up at him, the mid-morning sun peaking between the fire escape’s bars. “I hope you weren’t babysitting Parker because, y’know, parents don’t usually appreciate that kind of thing.”

You meant it as a joke but then Peter grimaced and you made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a horrified gasp.

          “Oh.”

He groaned, throwing his hands up to cover his face. “I know, okay! We were playing hide and seek and I told her—I told her, I swear—that outside was off limits but she doesn’t listen! She never listens!”

You let out a low whistle.

          “I’ve never babysat before!” he justified frantically, his eyes wide and scared. He started pacing the fire escape, the metal rattling with every step. “Pepper had this–this thing and Happy’s in Coney Island with May and I thought ‘how hard could it be!’ and it was actually really, really hard and now she’s gone and—”

You frowned, your brain making the connections painfully slow. “Pepper? As in Potts?”

If he’d heard you he gave no sign of it. He’d finally come to a stop at the far end by your brother’s window, his hands curing around the railing so tight his knuckles were turning white. You climbed all the way out, careful not to trip on  the rusting metal bars.  

He was rambling. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find her anywhere, she’s gone! What if she’s not even here? What if she’s just wandering the streets or worse what if–”

          “Pepper Potts,” you repeated slowly. “The Pepper Potts? The one married to–?”

Peter didn’t stop. “God, if I lose Morgan I don’t–I don’t know what I’m going to do. How am I supposed to tell them? Who am I kidding, I can’t tell them! They would never forgive me. Hell, if anything happens to her I’ll never forgive m–”

Morgan. You’d heard that name before. After everyone came back and we found out who’d finally defeated Thanos you remember watching a telecast in one of the shelters that said he was survived by his wife and his daughter—Morgan.

You held up a hand and he shut up, your panicked gaze meeting his. “Wait … are you–are you actually saying you lost Iron Man’s daughter?”

He didn’t say anything, but by the way his shoulders fell in defeat he didn’t have to.

          “Oh my God, Peter–”

He winced, his eyes pleading. “Help me. Please, help me.”

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the right words and failing spectacularly. Instead you just sputtered pathetically before finally settling on: “I can’t!”

He let out an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a whine. “Why not?!”

A good question. Part of you knew you wanted to help him, but another part, a much smaller part, begged you to stay out of it—you didn’t want to be one half of the duo that lost Morgan Stark.

But you knew that wasn’t actually it. Things with Peter had taken a turn for the weird, your heart practically beating out of it’s chest anytime you so much as caught sight of him. And your late night talks were getting longer with every passing evening, most of the time well into morning.

You were afraid of how an entire afternoon spent with Peter would make you feel.

You swallowed hard, motioning to vaguely back at your room. “I have homework! So much homework that I really need to finish because I really can’t fail the exam.”

He ignored you, peering into your room as if to corroborate your excuse—which wasn’t an excuse—but you knew it was pointless. You’d left your notes on your desk across the room, most of them half-hidden under textbooks.

          “You’re taking Molecular Cell Biology?” he asked and your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. You glanced back to make sure your notes were where you left them and sure enough there they were, barely even legible.

For the second time today you were left speechless. “Yeah, I am but how did–”

He didn’t let you finish. “And you’re failing Molecular Cell Biology.”

          “Hey!” you shoved him lightly, momentarily forgetting what you were asking.

He looked back at you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry–I’m sorry. But you are,” you glared and he held his hands up defensively. “You are! But you don’t have to be. I can help you–tutor you! I can tutor you.”

You considered it. You knew that Mrs. Palomino had maxed out her extra credit assignment threshold for you and you were down to your last chance to pass her class with a respectable grade.

You sighed. “Okay fine Parker,” you conceded and he all but cheered. “I’ll help you. But I swear to God if I don’t get an A …”

He was already climbing the fire escape, taking the stairs two by two. “I’ll get you better than an A! I’ll get you an A plus! An A plus, plus!”

You followed him, scowling at the back of his head. “That doesn’t exist!”

You ended up in his bedroom, cross-legged on his navy plaid comforter listening as he numbered off the things Morgan liked form the floor while also evaluating his choice on wall decor. He had maps and posters and random scribbled notes in red, messy handwriting.

You let your mind wander to a future where being in his room was normal and being in his bed was normal and asking him to join you on it was normal and you didn’t have to guess what was happening behind those kind eyes because he would want to tell you.

He was in the middle of contemplating whether we should chance the subway or get the cops involved when his voice broke suddenly broke through your distracted thoughts. “Are you listening?”

You blinked a few times, trying to bite down the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Morgan likes spare parts, hamburgers and sour gummy worms,” you repeated dutifully, hoping to God he wouldn’t ask you why you were suddenly flustered.

He didn’t.

          “Right. She also really likes cats, don’t forget cats. Which is funny because Tony wasn’t really a pet guy,” he mumbled, his gaze suddenly a million miles away. “He did like to take in strays, though.”

You knew that once upon a time Peter was Tony Stark’s intern, but the affection in his voice was so visceral you felt it in your own chest.

          “You know what I still can’t figure out?” you asked abruptly.

He glanced at you. “What’s up?”

          “How did you end up babysitting Tony Stark’s daughter?” you asked and you watched as his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. “You were snapped too, so you barely knew Morgan, right?”

          “Right,” he said, in a voice right above a whisper. Then he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess it’s complicated.”

          “Complicated how?”

He looked like he was struggling with what to say next. “Well, when Tony uh, you know, I wanted to help with whatever I could even though I wasn’t, uh, his intern anymore. So,I told Pepper to call me whenever and it turns out she needed a lot of help with Morg.”

You wanted to ask him more about it, but it felt too personal. So instead, you focused on Morgan and where a six year old girl could possibly want to go. And suddenly, it came to you. You knew where Morgan was and you didn’t have to take a subway or call the NYPD to find her.

You leaped off the bed, eyes wide. “Get up,” you said, but he just stared up at you quizzically from his spot on the floor. You nudged him with your foot excitedly, “ Get up!”

And he did. Reluctantly.

          “Think about it,” you explained impatiently. “What has burgers, sour gummy worms and a  cute kitty cat?”

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he thought about it and hear the ‘click’ in his brain when he finally got it.

He jumped up. “Delmar!”

The next few minutes were a blur. You both scrambled to Peter’s front door and ducked into the elevator before the doors could close and took it four floors down to the lobby, where you were off again out the door and onto the street.

A fire destroyed Delmar’s Deli years ago and after the blip things got even more messy. But he stayed in Queens and ended up relocating to a new deli just a few blocks from your apartment, a deli you’d come to know and love.

You were sprinting a few paces behind Peter but when you finally made it to the familiar store front, you both reached for the handle at the same time, which you immediately realized was silly because you didn’t even know Morgan so you stood back and let him walk in first.

Delmar’s was as comforting as it was cluttered. You skirted past discarded magazine racks and an impressive candy selection on your way to the back, which is where Delmar made his world-famous (according to him) sandwiches and burgers. He was there now, laughing at something someone you couldn’t see said.

          “Hey Mister Delmar,” Peter greeted cheerfully, not even out of breath.

You, on the other hand, were practically gasping for breath, supporting yourself with the topping display, your side pressed to the cool glass. You searched the place for the bodega’s unofficial cat, Murph, who always came up and curled himself around your ankles when you came in but he was nowhere in sight.

          “Peter!” Delmar replied happily. He glanced over at you and his smile widened, “Chiquita!”

You giggled at the nickname and waved.

          “Mister Delamar, have you seen a little girl?” Peter asked and you could tell he was trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Her name’s Morgan and I’m really hoping she’s here.”

Delmar glanced down at his feet. “Morgancita, I think he found you.”

As he said it you watched in total amazement as Morgan Stark crawled out from behind the sandwich station, Murph sitting happily in her arms. Until this moment you’d only seen Morgan on the TV, and the screen didn’t do her justice. She was a carbon copy of her dad, all dark eyes full of mischief. She cooed at Murph one last time before putting him down gently.

She put her hands behind her back and frowned up at Peter, who looked so relieved you worried he might pass out.

          “You win Pete,” she said sadly.

Peter crouched down in front of her, looking torn between wanting to  hug her and throttle her. In the end he settled on ruffling her hair.

          “Morgan, never ever do that again, okay?”

She furrowed her brows adorably. “But Pete, I’m going to have to find better hiding places if I’m going to win.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “Just promise you’ll play by the rules next time.”

Morgan didn’t look happy, “But that’s boring.”

          “Promise?” Peter said, holding out his pinky.

Morgan watched the pinky with one of the most calculating looks you’d ever seen. But after a few seconds, she shrugged and wrapped her tiny pinky around Peter’s. “Promise.”

Then they both turned to face you and you were suddenly incredibly nervous but you didn’t have enough time to contemplate what to say because before you knew it Morgan’s dark gaze landed on you.

She tilted her head, “Who are you?”

Peter placed a hand on her back and smiled softly at you, and you felt heat flare up in the pit if your stomach. “She’s a friend of mine. We go to school together and she helped me find you.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Morgan asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Not when you break the rules, Cymorg.”

She fixed her attention back to you. “Hi,” she said, holding out her hand like a miniature professional. “I’m Morgan.”

You smiled down at her, taking her fingers in yours. “It is very nice to meet you, Morgan.”

You bent down so you were level with her and beckoned her closed, as if to tell her a secret. She leaned in, Peter watching you both curiously.

“For the record, if it wasn’t for me, you would have won,” you whispered. “He had no idea.”

She smiled up at Peter and said, “I like her.”

He was looking at you in a way that made you dizzy. “Me, too.”

          “And she’s really pretty.”

You don’t know who flushed brighter: you or Peter.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

Hey guys. So in MCC you might have noticed that Dream got a little salty. This was a shame for me as it’s so much nicer to watch Dream whilst he’s in a good mood. For better or worse though, he’s super competitive.

Here’s a breakdown of how the event went badly for Dream and his team. It’s pretty long...

The event starts well; Skyblockle is an interesting, if stressful game, and they do pretty well for their first time. Not perfectly though and they recognise they could do better too - Dream’s already pretty hard on himself for any mistakes he makes. But it’s purely directed at himself and how he can improve - I think it’s pretty evident he holds himself to a high standard. 

Bingo is next and he kinda doesn’t know what he’d doing and wastes some time. I feel like he notes it down too much to not knowing the game but it is pretty luck-based anyway. Also this was a really quick game as so many of the items were very easy to obtain in a very short time. Anyway, they didn’t expect to do well really and Dream’s in good spirits, looking forward to the other games. 

Then Battle box comes... and it’s extremely laggy and even glitchy. The weapon choices of Wooden axes and tnt seem honestly pretty bad just in terms of gameplay and the tnt is outright gamebreaking with the lag. Despite this, Dream’s team is doing well, having won their first 4 games and they’re keen to win more. Dream’s even instructing Sylveey to wait on the wool in order to maximise kill points (you can see he’s taking this really seriously as he could sound a little nicer as she’s certainly trying to win too). 

Anyway, the game needs to be restarted - some players killed themselves outside the rounds and that’s not exactly fair. For whatever reason, reviving them is not possible. The chosen solution is to restart the entire round which regretfully seriously inconveniences Dream’s team. He’s incensed at the perceived injustices. He feels that it would be better to push on without restarting. 

The proceeding rounds don’t go nearly as well for them as the first play through. Many teams have now realised how effective rushing strats are for this map - the axe is too slow in pvp to meaningfully stop players from quickly placing down wool and the tnt is dangerous enough to scare people from the centre. It’s a legitimate strategy but feels rather unlike the traditional battle box which is usually the closest minigame to a straightforward pvp battle. While the lag is universal, it rather this strategy which goes against purple’s playstyle which includes maximised kills. Additionally, restarting gave a lot of teams the change to realise the potential of this rather cheap strategy which they may not have with only a single round of battle box as it would have been without the lag. 

It’s not really anyone’s fault that the game messed up but Dream’s ire is now directed towards the organisers and he’s lost his good spirits. 

Buildmart comes next and it’s not exactly one of Dream’s favourite games to say the least. Still, it’s long and a nice distraction from the mess that was battle box and Dream has developed some strategy with his team, even if it didn’t really work amazingly. 

But then comes the audience takeover. Dream was really looking for parkour warrior - which he’s been really keen to play. He’s extremely fond of parkour and wanted to try out the new course - he and his whole team had practiced the old course a lot and were ready to crush the game. But it wasn’t one of the the options in the poll at all. Up to this point Parkour warrior hasn’t been an option at all and it is one the team has every reason to want to play. 

Regardless, they soon settle on Hole in the wall - a gamemode they’ve played before and enjoyed. And yeah, the system messes up. Rocket spleef, which was Technoblade’s choice, narrowly lost the poll but gets selected anyway due to faultiness from the twitter poll. Needless to say, Dream is pretty annoyed. Given how the resetted Battle box earlier, he is of the opinion that they should switch in to Hole in the Wall to accurately reflect the audience vote. What he doesn’t realise is that this isn’t possible and the situation is less similar to battle box which only reset itself, not the game choice. 

This is where Dream gets outright angry, even going as far to say he feels like quitting entirely. He feels like the tournament is working against him, which it kinda is, though it’s not in fact due to human design - just errors outside anyone’s control. That said, compounded with the mess that was Battle box earlier, Dream’s in a terrible mood, especially with his competitive nature, feeling like he’s losing due to circumstances outside his control rather than his own abilities. (When fans are saying rigged, I feel like many of them simply mean that the game’s working against him rather than that someone is actively sabotaging them (an incorrect definition...). It’s a minority that kicked up a large fuss as well, not that this excuses them or anything, or Dream for not realising the effect he’s having on his audience.)

His heart is simply not in Rocket Spleef, which seems to be a pretty tough game for newcomers to pick up anyway, while the other top teams, Orange and Green, both excel at this game mode. (And Krimson too maybe? I think I missed how they were doing in this game.) It’s a shame as he can’t allow himself to enjoy the game mode at all. It is an interesting one that he’s not amazing at but isn’t terrible at either, managing to survive longer than the rest of his team, who are all also doing lacklustre. Their performance has not been helped by everything that’s going on. 

Then there’s ace race. It’s a new game and pretty different from the standard minecraft experience. It’s the first time for everyone so there’s probably a few kinks to be worked out etc. and Dream and his team find it interesting but they don’t exactly love it. It’s very different from the standard minecraft experience. Their strongpoints are definitely vanilla minecraft and they’re not too confident with elytras. I feel like if they weren’t in a dour mood they would have enjoyed it tons more. Two elytra heavy games in a row is unfortunate. Still, this game acts as a breather. The one issue is that parkour warrior is finally on the board and so they’re very keen to play it. 

As the next decision dome comes up, Parkour warrior, Hole in the Wall, TGTTOS, Survival Games and Sands of time are all available. These are all probably Dream’s favourite games aside from Battle box (which obviously didn’t work out this tournament). Dream notes beforehand that the one game he’d really like to play is Parkour Warrior and the one he’d prefer to avoid at this stage is Sands of Time. 

So naturally, Sands of Time is chosen. He’s a bit irritated. Fortunately, Sands of Time is awesome and his team is great at it. Single player survival stuff is what they excel at after all and they all perform. They take risks, make a lot of coins, get far and are among the longest teams to stay in, coming in second overall with both Dream and Sapnap doing really well. This game proves to be what finally cures Dream and his team’s mood. The game is also worth a ton of points for some reason, putting them in with a (still small but possible) chance of making the finals. 

Last game and they really want Parkour warrior of course. Yeah, it’s not chosen. Instead we get hole in the wall. Some may joke that its good that the game finally got chosen but it’s obviously not the favoured choice for this team when Parkour warrior’s an option. Oh well though! They’re disappointed to miss out on it but they do like hole in the wall and they all have fun playing it, doing decently though not nearly well enough to do better than their rivals.

By this time they’ve regained their spirits and eagerly support Green Guardians in dodgebolt. It’s an intense match and they all thoroughly enjoy watching it, especially seeing Pete team clutch out the win after being down. 

At the end, Dream finds that despite everything he’s still somehow managed to obtain 3rd overall on the individual boards, the same as last time, and he’s really happy about it. His team are pretty happy too with Sapnap also managing to get 8th place in his very first event. 

Dream closes off the stream with an apology. You can see as it goes on how the frustration slowly melts away as he begins talking. At first still obviously still annoyed but soon confessing that he seriously overreacted and that he still loves the event and the team behind it and holds them to a very high standard. He offers kind words towards Technoblade and Pete too, noting that the rivalry is for show and he greatly respects both of them and encourages all his watchers to go and subscribe to them, helping Technoblade to hit 2mil. He notes that he’s really competitive and he really wanted it to go well - especially as its the only time he’ll be allowed to play with George and Sapnap and really wanted to win it with them. His sentiments feel real and he expresses interest in playing again while noting that he could see them also not inviting him back after his behaviour during this even and understands that. 

Overall, game choices and unfortunate circumstances worked against Dream and his team and left him in a bad mood but once it ended, he did bounce back. It’s easy to see the contrast from the last event where he was annoyed he didn’t win but blamed his own performance - not the event and not his teammates - reflecting on how he can improve and do better. (He got temporarily a little annoyed at buildmart admittedly but it was purely his fans who blew that out of proportion, he quickly reassured George that it was okay and that it wasn’t his fault.) Dream is always very determined to improve and succeed or fail due to his own skills. 

This turned into a long analysis of the event, wow. Dream’s perspective wasn’t that much fun to watch and it pains me to see how it all devolved. Let’s calm down and try not to blame the event, the other competitors or Dream too hard for any of this, okay? Things went wrong and it’s mostly outside of anyone’s control. I hope he’s in better spirits if he joins next tournament. 

[karmathecat]

Firewhiskey is Not the Best Mixer | Part 5

The next installment of my next gen/marauder time travel fic! 

FF | AO3

After the quickest lunch of their lives, the group made their way up to the seventh floor. Lily was doing all she could to not break out into a full run up the moving staircases, which were thankfully in position for where they needed to go as if the castle knew the importance of their journey. 

“If the room is on the seventh floor, we’ll have to be careful it’s out of bounds because of construction after the fifth years blew a hole in the wall fighting and burst a pipe. Apparently magical sewer systems can’t be fixed with a repairing charm. If we get caught up there we’ll be in deep shit, so be quick about getting into the room.” Lily thought it was amusing that her grandmother wasn’t necessarily against breaking the rules, but against getting caught. A trait that she definitely saw in herself.

“I just can’t believe that we never knew about this, we’ve explored this castle, how many times? And we never came across a room that could give us anything we wanted?” Sirius seemed almost insulted that the castle had never revealed such a secret to the Marauders. Lily couldn’t help but think that it was a good thing that these boys didn’t have access to a room that could supply them with countless inconveniences for the rest of the school. She knew that her brother would have used his knowledge of this room on countless occasions to make her life miserable whilst they were both at school if it had been available to him.

“Maybe you just never needed something enough.” Al shrugged his shoulders as they stopped at the stretch of wall that Lily knew the room was. She had heard the stories about the DA so many times, demanding her dad tell her about all the times that he had taught the rebellious group. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

Whilst Lily was pacing, James took out the Marauder’s Map. He knew that not adding this room’s discovery to the map would bother his completionist side, he knew it was here now so it needed to be added. He found the seventh floor on the map, saw the group standing around and was about to mark the section that Lily was pacing in front of to add the room later, when he froze. He felt the heat start in his toes and rise limb to limb until he knew for a fact that his face and ears were so red heat could be felt without touching his skin. 

“James?” 

He ignored the other, staring intently at the map, watching the name pace back and forth as he knew the girl, Lily’s granddaughter, was doing to access the room. Then the name stopped, and James looked up to see the younger girl looking at him in confusion, behind her a door had appeared in the space where a blank wall once was moments before. He could also feel the eyes of his three best mates, the girl he loved, and his grandsons on him, probably questioning his weird reaction. 

“Lily Potter.” 

Lily’s eyes widened as she drew in a sharp breath. The map. How could she forget the map? 

“It says here your name is Lily Luna Potter.” It wasn't a question, they both knew that the map never lied and that was her name, she couldn’t deny it. 

Before James could question her, or Lily could open her mouth, a noise was heard at the end of the corridor. 

“Filch! Quick everyone in.” Remus rushed forward, opened the door that Lily’s pacing had conjured. The momentary surprise evaporated and as one the group charged into the room just as Filch rounded the corner. The door slammed shut behind them and the caretaker was none-the-wiser. 

Once the shock of running into the room wore off, all of the Marauders turned to look at Lily. 

“You’re a Potter then?” It was surprisingly Peter who addressed Lily, as he was someone who had skirted around the three time travellers as if he didn’t quite know what to make of them. 

Lily blew out a breath, and knowing what she needed, two sofas that looked identical to those in the Gryffindor common room appeared in front of them. Lily took her grandmother and the Marauders to the sofas to sit. Lily noticed her two brothers did not join them, but knew that this conversation was more pressing than looking for them. 

“It said it on the map Pete, you know the map doesn’t lie it’s linked to your magical signature.” 

“Let me see then.” James went into his robe pocket to pull out the map, but felt nothing. He started patting his other pockets and looking around him, but to no avail. 

“I must have dropped it! If Filch saw it outside in the corridor he’ll definitely have confiscated it!” James swore and looked at his friends apologetically, distraught at having lost such a precious item through carelessness. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Lily spoke up, “you losing the map to Filch is how my dad ended up with the map in the first place. So, if you think about it, you losing it now was actually the best thing that you could have done.” The four boys seemed to consider this, exchanged a heavy look between them and nodded in silent communication. Lily was certain that this was what people meant when they said that the three Potter children could communicate without words and it was very disconcerting to watch. However, when growing up the children of the most famous man in their society with every eye on them at all times, they had to be able to say the things they were truly feeling without it getting printed in that evening’s paper. Each of the Potter children had learnt the hard way who they could trust and what they could say when. The constant secret keeping and trouble making that these boys got into was another example of high stakes communication, so she understood better than most the importance of the exchange that had occurred in front of her eyes. Without having spoken out loud, it was clear that James was chastised but Lily’s words were considered and he was forgiven, the entire exchange had taken no longer than 30 seconds. 

Lily watched as her grandmother eyed the boys, she could tell that the Head GIrl understood that a communication was occurring, but not what was being said. It must be exhausting to be around such a tight knit group but not being privy to the information and exchanges that passed between them. Lily Evans was staring at James without any embarrassment, she knew the conversation that was about to occur and she was determined to get her opinion across if it was the death of her. 

James nodded and then directed the conversation back to Lily, “So you are a Potter? Lily Potter.” 

Lily looked towards the Head Girl before nodding. “Yes, James and Al are my older brothers.” 

“So what does that mean?” Sirius looked Lily up and down and for the first time since yesterday eyed her with slight distrust. 

“Well, it means that my parents' surnames are Potter.” 

“Don’t be cute, we’ve come this far now you might as well tell us.” Sirius shook his head and a ghost of a smile appeared as Lily blew out another breath and knew she’d been caught. What was the harm anyway, one half of her grandparents already knew it wasn’t like she was changing the course of history, she was just being honest. 

“Okay, well, James and I are named after my dad’s parents: James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.” 

Lily let her words settle over the group. The redhead sat beside her was running her hands up and down her thighs in anxiety staring intently at James whose eyes were fixed solely on his granddaughter. 

“We all owe you five galleons.” Remus’ words were unexpected, but seemed to break the tension that Lily’s words had left. Sirius let out a loud laugh and clapped James hard on the shoulder who seemed to still be in a state of shock. Lily hid her giggle behind her hand and glanced over at Lily who was still intensely staring at James who was still let to look at her. If Lily was honest with herself it looked like James was in a state of shock. 

Lily cocked her head to the side at the other Marauders, and as four they stood to allow the two Heads to talk about Lily’s revelation. 

“Let’s go and find my brothers yeah?” The boys nodded and Lily looked around at the room for the first time. It was one long room with shelves on each side. On both shelves there were various devices which Lily presumed were variations of the time turner based on her request to the room. Beneath each device there was a plaque describing the device's name and a brief summary of how to use it. Lily walked over with the three Marauders to her brothers who were both standing at a section of shelf and were in deep discussion. 

“Hey Lil, finally revealed our familial bond?” James laughed as Lily hit him on the arm. 

“Noticed that you two were conveniently absent for that conversation!” 

“We thought that you had it handled, and why put myself in an awkward conversation when I don’t have to!” Al laughed as Lily’s glare was directed towards him next. 

Remus laughed at the siblings’ antics, and now that he knew he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realised their relationship purely based on their interactions, the playful banter and closeness that he had only seen in the Marauders who were described as brothers and not friends. But, Remus mused, it was easy to realise these things when you knew the information vital to understanding. 

“Anyway, what have you found?” Al explained that whilst they were chatting they’d started looking at each of the time devices and were able to quickly dismiss the first few devices based on the fact they were theoretical prototypes and had never been used before. James explained that they weren’t to be trusted as something that worked in theory very rarely worked in practice without a bit of trial and error and they shouldn’t risk more errors with time travel. Lily couldn’t help but agree with their assessments, it was a rare treat to see both of her brothers in work mode as James never brought work home and Al was in another house.

“We’ve narrowed it down to this one here. The name on the plaque, she’s an Unspeakable that I studied for my exam. She created a lot of time manipulation devices and her success rate was very high. So if I was going to place my bets on any device that has been presented by the room it would be this one.” Al picked up the device that he was referring to. It looked like a standard time turner that she had seen in her textbooks but with my dials. It was a beautiful rose gold colour which she knew differed from the traditional gold. 

James explained that there were three dials on the turner, days, months and years. Lily had to admit that it seemed simple in comparison to all of the intimidating devices that surrounded the simple one that her brothers had selected. 

“There’s one more thing,” all of their attention was directed towards Al again, “we can’t take the devices out of the room. We’ll have to use the device here.” This made sense to Lily, the room created all of the devices so they only existed in the room so logically could only be used in the room. 

“Okay then, shall we report back what’s going on and talk about how to go forward?”

X-X-X

Lily watched her granddaughter walk away with the Marauders and looked towards James. He was staring down into his lap, and didn’t look up when Lily slid into the seat next to him. 

“James?” 

He still didn’t look up and Lily felt a clenching in her chest, she thought that the knowledge that she and James were meant to be together was set in stone but now looking at him not acknowledging her she wasn’t so certain anymore. 

“I’m sorry.” 

James had spoken to softly that Lily wasn’t certain that she’d heard him. Why was he apologising to her?

“I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, I didn’t mean to put you in that position, I was just taken aback by seeing her name. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry Lily. If you need space and stuff I understand, I obviously love talking and being with you but finding out about Lily, well that must have been a shock for you right now, and I know you don’t feel that way about me, so yeah, I’d understand if you need some space.” 

James hadn’t looked at Lily the whole time he spoke, but delivered his speech to his lap where his hands twisting around themselves.

“James, I knew about Lily,” James’ head shot up to look at her for the first time, “she told me last night.” 

James frowned at her and stared intently, “you knew?” 

“I knew.” 

“And you’ve still been around me all morning and acting normal?” 

Lily sighed, she knew that this was the time to put all her cards on the table, but now the time was here she felt the anxiety settle deep in her stomach. 

“James, I wanted to know if our lives were intertwined through our grandchildren because our children happened to get together, or whether it was you and me. I wanted to know from my granddaughter whether I was wasting my time falling in love with you and if I’d missed my chance with you. Because I am, falling in love with you I mean.” 

“What?” James had never been so shocked in his life, he had no idea. He thought that the time that they had spent together this year had been amazing, they had been getting closer but he hadn’t let himself hope for something more, he went to bed every night telling himself that friendship was enough. 

“I’ve been falling in love with you since last year, I thought you might have gotten over me and I’d missed my chance, but hearing that from Lily well I let myself believe that maybe I still had a chance, but if that isn’t the case and you don’t want to be anything more than friends then-” Lily was abruptly cut off my James’ mouth on hers. The kiss was urgent but soft and exactly what Lily imagines kissing James would be like. 

James pulled back and looked Lily in the eye for the first time, “I never want you to say something as ridiculous as me not wanting you, ever again. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, how long I've hoped this could happen.” 

This kiss was slow and steady, and melted Lily from the inside out and she felt at home. 

“Go out with me Evans?” 

“Always.” 

Lily looked over her shoulder when they heard the others approaching. Lily was smiling at the new couple with joy. 

“Come on you two, we have a lot to discuss. Let’s go back to the common room.”

[goldenavenger02]

Peter Parker's Day Off

This story is for the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange and my giftee is @avengersincamphalfbloodstardis so I hope you like it!

Before anyone draws comparisons between this and the fic @marvelous-writer posted a few weeks ago, we've already gotten it worked out, so go read her fic after mine!

Editing and cover credits go to @clover-roseee!

And now, on with the story!

Peter groaned as he woke up, and tried to force himself awake as Morgan jumped the end of his bed again. "I'm up, Morg, I'm up," he replied as rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. His body and head felt heavy, and he had that general sick feeling, so despite how much Morgan's excitement tended to rub off on him, it didn't this time. In fact, Peter wasn't even sure how he could be excited when his chest was tight and his nose was so stuffed up.

Morgan didn't seem to pick up on how he was feeling, though. "Come on, Petey!" she instead insisted, before hopping off his bed and running out of his room. "Daddy's making blueberry pancakes before we go to the zoo!"

The trip to the zoo had been planned for weeks, and Pepper had even taken a day off to come with (which was a rarity in itself). May had gotten held up at the hospital, too, so it was perfect timing that he stayed with the Starks for the first week of spring break; but while he really wanted to see Morgan lose her mind over lions, tigers, and birds, he still couldn't shake the sick feeling from his body.

"Come on, Petey! Daddy's making blueberry pancakes before we go to the zoo!" She insisted before running out of his room, singing about the trip.

Grabbing his bathrobe off of his closet door, Peter wrapped it around his shoulders and tried to regain some body heat before shuffling down the stairs. The smell of pancakes hit him as he went into the hall, and he knew immediately that his senses were in overdrive.

When he finally made it to the dining room, Morgan was going over some facts she had learned about lions for a school project and Pepper was looking at the news on her phone, but looked up when she saw Peter sit at the table. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" she asked, upon seeing his pale face, and the thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

Peter started to respond, but instead let out a harsh cough into his elbow. That was enough of a reason for Pepper to get up from the table in search of the thermometer. Meanwhile, Morgan got up from her chair and ran into the kitchen area. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, "Petey's sick!"

Flipping the last few pancakes on to the large serving plate, Tony cleaned his hands with a dry washcloth and turned the stove off. Then, once that was done, he turned his attention to Peter and, with Morgan tagging along behind him, made his way over. "See!" Morgan repeated. "He's sick!"

"Yeah, I definitely see what you're talking about." Tony ruffled Morgan's hair before placing a hand against Peter's forehead. "And that's definitely a fever." He sighed before looking down at his daughter. "Sorry, Morguna. Looks like the zoo is gonna have to wait for a few days."

"But we have to go, Daddy!" Morgan fought back. "Mommy took the day off and everything!" Just as it looked like that Tony would have to deal with a tantrum at eight thirty in the morning, Pepper came back in the room with the ear thermometer and gently inserted it into Peter's ear. "Mommy, we have to go to the zoo!"

"Morgan's right," Peter agreed, receiving an enthusiastic grin from her. "I mean, you did take the day off to go with her to the zoo…"

Pepper looked skeptical. "I don't know. I don't feel comfortable leaving you here by yourself."

"Then how about Mr. Stark stays with me?" Peter proposed, taking a moment to cough into his elbow. Pepper, in return, placed a hand on his back. "You guys can send us pictures, and it'll feel like we're right there with you."

Pepper looked to her husband. "Tony? Are you okay with this?" she asked, as the thermometer beeped. She took it out and sighed when the reading revealed Peter had a temperature of 101.8. "Staying here with Peter?"

"'Course. I've got the spider kid, you two go have fun," Tony insisted, before leaning forward and kissing his wife's cheek. "Like he said, just send us lots of photos. Maybe let Morgan feed a giraffe while you're there, too."

Pepper broke apart from the kiss, and went over to grab her tote bag with her sunglasses, camera and Morgan's change purse full of nickels and pennies. "Alright, try and have a good day," she said, after slipping her shoes on. "Feel better, Peter."

Morgan ran up and hugged Tony tightly, and did the same to Peter before heading outside to the car, with Pepper following closely behind. When the car pulled out of the driveway, Tony turned to the resident sick kid. "So, how does crashing on the couch and watching some Star Wars sound?"

"Can we watch something else? I'm regretting getting Morgan obsessed with it," Peter spoke as he stood up from the table, trying to force the sudden headache that was building behind his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you want," Tony insisted as Peter shuffled over to the couch and grabbed the remote. "We should probably get you some Tylenol, though."

Peter nodded, starting to scroll through Netflix. Since Morgan preferred Disney+, he knew he would probably find something he wasn't sick of on there. But his vision was going in in and out, and starting to get spotty, and he was fighting every bone in his body in order to stay awake.

Suddenly Tony appeared beside him, and Peter distantly wondered how he did it. "Here," he said, pouring three white tablets into Peter's right hand, and swapping the remote for a bottle of blue Gatorade with the other. "Take that, and go to bed, kid. I'll find something to watch, you look exhausted."

Dropping the pills into his mouth and washing it down with a swig of Gatorade, Peter wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his bathrobe before doing what he was told. Tony's taste in movies was often better than Morgan's or Pepper's anyway, so he let himself relax and, feeling a blanket being draped over him, allowed the music of whatever Tony had picked lull him to sleep.

•••

"So, what do you wanna see first?" Pepper asked her daughter, as the two climbed out of the car doors. They had spent a little over half an hour driving, and Pepper already had the online map on her phone all ready and set-up. Knowing her daughter, though, she'd probably want to see more of the cuddly animals first, before going to see the creepier ones.

"Hmm…" Morgan hummed and tilted her head as she thought. She definitely wanted to go see the lions, but she was also wondering if they had a penguin exhibit, and maybe a snake one, too. "I dont know! Can we go see the dolphins? Please?"

"Sure." Pepper smiled and gently grasped her daughter's hand in hers, before they made their way inside. "And then we'll go feed the giraffe, like your dad wanted to. Sound good?" She verbalized the plan, trying to make it stick in Morgan's head, but, in reality, she was just wanting to spend some much needed time with her daughter. It was always a rarity when she was able to take time off, and she wanted to make the most of it.

Morgan nodded, but the period of silence was broken by her stopping in front of the snake exhibit. "Mommy, look!" she shouted, bouncing on her heels giddily. "Can we look at these first? Please?"

"Of course." Pepper nodded, took her camera out of her bag, and watched as one of the exhibit employees, per Morgan's request, placed a boa constrictor around her shoulders. "Say cheese on three, sweetie!"

•••

When Peter woke up on the couch, he felt like he could barely breathe through his nose, and could feel the intensity of the pressure in his head. Then, sitting up, he glanced around the room, before trying to peer into the kitchen. "Mr. Stark?" he asked, the stuffiness having apparently spread to his voice with how nasally he sounded. "Are you here?"

"In the kitchen!" the stay at home dad called back. Sighing and flopping back on to the couch, Peter re-covered himself with the blanket Tony draped over him, before he heard a "Shit, that's hot!" and the man himself appeared in the doorway. "Okay," he announced, as he walked over to his sick kid, "I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

Peter smirked. "What's the bad news?"

"Bad news," Tony explained, as he set a plate of soggy charcoal-coloured toast on the table, "is that I burnt your toast, and put too much butter on; so, it's kinda ruined now, kid."

Peter chuckled, as he sat up and, despite how terrible the toast looked, took a bite from it. 'At least Tony tried,' he thought. "And the good news?" he asked.

"The good news is that I ordered soup for later—don't look at me like that!—and that I did manage to make sure your Gatorade stayed cold," Tony said, as he set the half-full Gatorade on the coffee table, right beside where the plate previously was. Then, he had taken a seat near the sick teen's feet and patted his knee. "But, it doesn't matter now. How're you feeling, Pete?"

Peter sat up a bit to place the soggy toast beside the Gatorade, and laid back down against his pillows. "My head still hurts," he muttered, trying to warm himself up as he buried himself beneath the blanket, "'nd I've been kinda feeling sick. There's no other medicine I can take, right?"

Tony shook his head. "'Fraid not, kiddo. And, even if there was, I don't wanna give you mixed medications and have to take you to a hospital, so it's not gonna happen."

Peter groaned.

"But, what I can do is let you see all the pictures Pepper sent me of Morgan." Tony smiled as he pulled out his phone, and swiped on over to his 'Messages' section. "There's even one of her holding a boa constrictor, if you wanna see it."

Peter shook his head, remembering his very bad experience with a snake from years ago. "I think I'll pass on that," he said, before sitting up and glancing over Tony's shoulder. "But is there one of her with a penguin? Or a giraffe?"

Tony nodded, as he passed the phone over, and adjusted the two of them, so Peter was leaning against his side, with his head on his chest. "Oh, yeah," he replied. "Third and fifth one in. My personal favourites, though, are the ones with the sloths and otters."

In response, Peter yawned, and, after scrolling through all the photos, gave the phone back to Tony. He was getting exhausted again, and assumed, as he buried his head into his mentor's chest, that Tony had moved on to watching the videos Pepper had sent him, so he shut his eyes and allowed Morgan's excited squeals to lull him back into a peaceful sleep.

•••

"Alright, honey," Pepper said, smiling, as she fished Morgan's change purse out of her tote bag, "you can pick one thing out from the gift shop, and then we're going to head home." She held her daughter's hand as they approached the small gift shop, located back at the entrance. She was thankful she hadn't lost her daughter when they were visiting the exhibits, but if there was one place where she would lose her, then it was definitely the gift shop.

Morgan took her change purse from her mother's hand, and looked up at her, pleadingly. "Can I get something for Petey, too?" she asked with her adorable, wide eyes. "He's sick and we can get something to make him feel better!"

"Nothing fragile," Pepper negotiated, "and nothing made of glass. Otherwise, you can go nuts and get whatever you want. Deal?" She held her hand up for a high five.

"Deal!" Morgan exclaimed excitedly, as she returned the high-five. Unfortunately, Morgan was five, and that meant she was still rather small, so the high-five ended up being one of those off-beat ones, where they missed each other and ended up mostly slapping the air instead. Pepper still smiled, though, and watched as Morgan made a B-line for the stuffed animals.

'That's a good idea,' she thought to herself. 'Peter would probably prefer cuddling one of those instead of a rubber snake, anyway.'

•••

"Daddy, Daddy, we're home!" Morgan announced, a little over forty-five minutes later, before she slipped off her shoes and bright yellow leather rainjacket at the door. Then, she had resumed running into the kitchen, where she wrapped her arms around her dad's legs. "Mommy and I saw penguins, and sloths, I got to hold a snake!"

Setting down the knife he was using to chop up the peppers and celery, Tony had then dried his hands with a washcloth, before turning and giving his full attention to his daughter. "That's great, Morguna," he replied, as he kneeled down to her level and planted a small kiss atop her head. "But you'll have to tell me everything when Peter wakes up, okay? He still doesn't feel so good, and he needs a lot of rest to get better."

"Okay!" Morgan agreed, happily, before she pulled a grey and white ovaloid object out of her little purse. "We got him a penguin!" She exclaimed, enthusiastically bouncing on her heels once more. "Do you think he'll like it? I hope he likes it!"

Tony nodded, as he ran his hand through his daughter's messy brown hair. "I'm sure he'll love it, Morguna."

"Now, go wash your hands, okay?" Pepper said, as she came up behind her daughter and gently nudged her towards the bathroom. In response, Morgan did as she was told, and Pepper took that chance to heave the groceries up on to the counter, and started putting them away. "Morgan insisted we get juice pops for Peter," she explained, as she opened the freezer and stuffed the box of popsicles inside. "How did things go at home today?"

"Pretty good. He's gotten a bit better since you guys left, but he told me he was feeling sick, so we'll have to keep an eye on him tonight."

"Alright." Pepper smiled and put up the last of the groceries before turning to her husband. "I'm gonna sit in there till dinner is ready." She planted a quick kiss against Tony's cheek before sitting in the armchair that was beside the couch Peter was asleep on, and started to go through some files on her laptop. Days off were always a rarity for her, so she wanted to transfer the photos to her phone, so she could look at them while she was at work.

She looked up when she heard a rustling noise, only to see Morgan come in with the stuffed penguin and put it under Peter's right arm before climbing on the couch and curling up next to him. Watching as Peter unconsciously wrapped his left arm around Morgan, Pepper smiled and waited until her daughter's eyes closed to take a picture.

She'd be thanked, later.

[valeptraglia]

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Battle of Calormen

Still not C. S. Lewis

...

Chapter 2: "The King's Tent."

(Edmund's POV)

I slowly opened my eyes and felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, I grown. I blinked a few times to get used to the light and I looked around.

I was in what looked like a camp situated in a clearing. Men were talking animatedly to each other sitting in the ground, sharpening their swords or battle-axes, or simply walking, all with armors on.

«Wait, that man has hooves, wait what? » I was losing it, I was completely crazy. But then I remembered crossing the door and getting into the forest, and I realized they weren't men, well not most of them, they were creatures, fauns, centaurs, minotaurs and even dwarfs could be seen amongst the group.

Quickly I got up and in the hurry I almost lost my balance and fell to the ground as my head started hurting.

«Where the hell am I? What happened? I was with the girls and Peter hearing the trees but then? Everything is black. » I tried to think harder but then fear run through me «My siblings, where are they? » I looked around but there wasn't any sign of them, so I started to panic and my head started to pound. «What if something happened to them? Oh, no» I felt a horrible feeling in my stomach and I instantly got up.

Suddenly I heard heavy hoofs against the ground and I turned around. A centaur was galloping, coming in my direction, so I stand still, waiting for him. I couldn't help the nasty look I threw him. I know I'm not supposed to judge anyone in advance, but hey, I'm not in my best mood.

As he was coming closer I could see him better. He was tall and with piercing blue eyes, his skin was dark, his features sharp, and his hair was tied up in a low ponytail. He had his armor on.

Finally he was in front of me. He stared at me and then bowed.

"Your majesty" he said with a deep voice.

"Who are you?" I questioned him.

"My name is Diácano, your majesty, I'm King Erasmus captain's army. Welcome back". He greeted.

I looked him in the eyes. He seemed to be nice."Nice to meet you Diácano. Do you know where my sisters and brother are?" I asked him so respectful that Susan would be very proud of me.

"Yes your majesty, they are with the king" he answer and then with a smile he add, "safe".

I nod with relieve and gratitude and asked him "Would you care to take me with them?"

"Of course your majesty" and with bow he lead the way.

We walked beside a river where some creatures and men were drinking water or washing their faces, or in some occasions men watching with desiring eyes to the dryads while they batted their eyelashes to them. I chuckled; the dryads could play dirty tricks on men, I know it for own experience.

They all bowed as I walk beside them making me feel uncomfortable. I was never one of manners or titles, it really embarrassed me, and when I am embarrassed it is inevitable the blush that creep my cheeks, and that makes me moody.

I tried to smile to them until we FINALLY, finally reach a tend. Diácano step aside allowing me to go first and he followed.

As I stepped in my vision became blurry when something threw it self at me, and a pair of arms wrapped around my torso and another pair around my neck. I immediately tensed but then I heard a too familiar voice.

"Susan, Lucy! Let him breathe!" Peter said laughing.

I've never known what to do in this situations, I wasn't too affectionate. But I awkwardly hugged them back happy they were okay.

"Ed I'm so happy you're alright!" said Susan letting me go as well as Lucy.

"I thought you were dead when I saw you lying on the ground with that blow on your head. Are you alright?" Lucy asked with concern..

"Ah, I'm alright Lucy, don't worry about me" I said forcing a smile. Was I going to have to smiles all the time today? But as truthful I thought my smile was, apparently I couldn't lie to Peter because he arch an eyebrow.

"You really scared us" he said patting my back and with a serious tone, I knew he was telling the truth. Aww, look who is the emotional one here.

"I know Pete, you can't live without me" I said jokingly. He rolled his eyes at me and then I heard a chuckle and I turned around.

I guess we weren't alone. There was a man, of about thirty years, beard and short brown hair, he was muscular and was wearing silver armor with a bright red lion on the chest, attached to his hip there was a belt with a sword on it. He was standing behind a table cover in parchments.

He walked around the table and bowed at me.

"Your Majesty, it's a pleasure to meet you; I'm Erasmus King of Narnia" he said with a gentle smile shaking my hand.

I shook his hand and replied "The pleasure is all mine".

"I'm happy to see you got back to consciousness, and I apologize for the blow one of my men gave you" he said looking out of the corner of his eye with a mix of nervousness and compassion.

I followed his gaze and I realized that in one corner of the tend there was a faun in bronze armor and with a bludgeon on his hand. First I thought he was ill 'cause he was shaking uncontrollably, but then I saw the look on his face while he looked at me. There was fear on it. He was quivering with fear. He was afraid… of me? Really? Do I look that bad?

I looked again at him but this time I look his hand and it hit me. He was the one who hit me. He hit me with bludgeon, that little… I swallowed hard and looking back at the King and said:

"Well, no harm has been done, I'm alright. I am glad to see you have very effective men in your army King Erasmus" and I smiled reassuringly to the faun.

"Perfect!" he said clapping his hands and with a huge smile "Diácano, Barbra you can go" he ordered to the centaur and the faun."Seriously Barbra stop quivering" he said looking at the poor faun "didn't you hear what King Edmund said? Now go take a drink my friend" He said giving him a wink and patting his back with a warm smile.

The centaur and the faun bowed to us and they got out of the tend. As soon as they were out, Susan slapped hard the back of my head, right were that faun had hit me.

As they stepped out of the tent the King pointed the chairs around the table. Peter sat at one at the end of the table, I sat on his right, Susan next to me, and next to her Lucy. The King sat on the other end of the table and looked at us.

"So… you called us?" asked Peter breaking the silence.

"Yes, it was me, but… I wasn't expecting you to actually come" he said scratching his chin with a thoughtful expression.

"Why wouldn't we come?" asked Lucy in disconcert.

"Because someone has already come".

What?

"What? Who?" asked Susan surprised.

"Well it is a long story" said Erasmus reclining on his chair.

"We have time" I said quickly. Patience is not one of my qualities.

King Erasmus smiled and said:

"Lately we've been having trouble with Calormen"

"What a surprise" said Peter sarcastically.

"Well yes, our relationship has never been the best one, but in the last two years it has worsen. Now that Theron, the Tisroc son, has taken charge it seems he is trying to do what his ancestors couldn't!

"Enlarge their territory" I said angrily realizing what he was talking about.

"Exactly. They sent messengers and now the giants in the North are against us. We also have trouble in the West, with what's left of Telmar, and although, in the South, Archenland is still with us, carlormens are taking the hole south of their territory, so they have to fight their own war"

"They are surrounding us" said Peter.

The King cleaned up a part of the table where he put on a map of Narnia and its adjacent territories. I leaned in.

"Then" he said "we are being attacked by: the giants of Ettinsmoor," he stick a sharp knife in the north part of the map "telmarines, " he stick another sharp knife in the west part of the map "and carlomens in Archenland" he stick the last sharp knife in the south part of the map.

I was too angry to say anything. I couldn't believe it. We fought hard to win Narnia back from Miraz, from the White Witch. It still make me shiver to think about her, it still make me feel ashamed to remember the traitor I was myself. I couldn't take it. We fought too hard to win Narnia back, and now we were losing it again.

"Edmund, are you okay?" whispered Lucy in my ear with concern.

I haven't realized that I had my hands clenched into fists and my knuckles were turning white. I opened my hands and flexed my sore fingers while I nodded to her. She didn't buy it but said nothing.

"And when did you call us?" asked Peter.

"Almost a year ago, when we realized we wouldn't achieve anything by ourselves. They were segueing us, we couldn't trade with Archenland because they too were running out of provisions with the war. We tried with Galma and Terebinthia, but in some way the provisions never arrived, the ships never touched narnian port, they got lost in the sea.

So, after a devastated battle in the Western Marches, our own territory, I came to the conclusion that it was time to ask for help. That same night, I went down to the old treasure chamber and blew Queen Susan's horn. "here he smiles at Susan to which she nodded and returned the smile "We wait for about eight days. The eighth night, some guards, came to me carrying with them a young woman and a young man I have never seen in my life. They were using the strangest clothes, similar to the ones you have on, your majesties. Obviously I interrogated them, quite rudely I might add" he said, but seeing Lucy's and Susan's faces he quickly added: "it was my duty, after all they could have been spies, I have to put Narnia first. Anyways they didn't really say anything that I could comprehend. They were in shock . The guards told me they found them marauding on the Great Woods and when they asked them what were they doing there and who they were, they run off. They followed them thinking they were bandits, because of their attitude, and brought them to Cair Paravel. I sent them to the dungeons. But in the middle of the night a maid came running to my room and asked my permission to take the girl to the infirmary because she was bleeding by a wound in her shoulder. I said yes and went with her to see the girl. She was pale and had a deep wound in her left shoulder. The maid and some other guards take the girl to the infirmary and I stayed with Diácano in the dungeons with the young boy.

By sunrise he had told us, that the girl was her sister and he presumed, she got that wound from some men with turbans who had chased them through the forest, and that was why they had run off when they saw the guards. He also told us something very interesting. He said" here the King spoke almost whispering "that they came from another world, were Narnia didn't exist. I think he said they were from England?" he said to himself with uncertainty.

I looked at my siblings and saw the same expression in their faces. Surprise. Except for Susan, she had such a distraught face.

"England? Are you sure?"Peter asked.

"Yes, yes. Or he said Englond? Or was it Inglaand? I can't remember but it was something like that"

"And what happened to them?" I asked.

"I believed them. It was strange but something told me they were saying the truth. I can't really explain it but I am sure Aslan sent them" Hearing Aslan's name, somehow, warmed my heart. "Anyways, their arrival coincided with a halt in the enemy's attacks, so we had a good amount of time to put ourselves together. Or kind of."

"And where are they now?" asked Lucy.

"Anne is at Cair Paravel, fortunately her wound wasn't that serious, and Bill is in the Stormness Head, with an army helping Archenland. Actually, he must be heading home by now. He trained hard and turned out to be quite a swordsman"

We were all silent. Everyone in their own thoughts.

"Where are we?" I asked suddenly.

"Oh! We are in the Caldron Pool. We came from a battle with the giants in Ettinsmoor. But tomorrow by nightfall we should be in Cair Paravel"

"And how was it?" asked Peter excited.

We all looked at him with confused faces.

"Eh how was it what, your Majesty?" asked the King hesitantly.

"The battle! Of course! Did we win?"

"Oh! Yes, your Majesty, we won" he said with a huge smile on his face. We all smile.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Peter clapping. He looked like a four-year-old to who someone had given a puppy.

"But we still have a lot to do. Basically we are hanging on here".

"When are we leaving?" asked Lucy smiling at Peter's conduct.

"Tomorrow by dawn"

"Good"

"Now I think it would be the best to give you some armors and weapons, just in case. What do you think?" said King Erasmus.

"Perfect!"

"I am sorry your majesties but we don't have female clothes for you. Can you use some of mines?" he apologized to the girls.

"Its okay, we understand. It is not the first time" said Lucy with a reassuring smile. Susan nodded. She was so quiet. And quite paler than her usual.

"Alright, then I'll grab some clothes for your brothers and leave you alone for you to change" he said standing up and going to a trunk from which he took some clothes. "Use my clothes as you pleased" he said with a smile to Susan and Lucy and signaling Peter and me the exit.

As I passed besides Susan I gently squeezed her arm discretly, her lips turn up in a forced smile.

[mychemicalficrecs]

Have any good killjoy fics? Thanx :)

Hi Nonny!

So the truth is: I don't read a lot of Killjoys fic.However. Going through the tags, I saw familiar names here and there. So this is a list of long-ish, finished Killjoy fics by authors I've enjoyed!

Killjoys Fics

we are not afraid (and we are not ashamed) by Trojie, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 27k, Explicit. An ordinary skirmish in the desert with dracs leads to Frank taking the brunt of a new weapon - and ends with him pregnant, furious, and freaking out. When the shit hits the fan and he gets kidnapped and taken back for interrogation by Korse, and forced to listen to the contents of the Traffic Report, something in him snaps. This fucking dystopia has gone on too long.

Time Travel 'verse by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 79k, Explicit, General Audiences. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Born to Motorbabies by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, 12k, Mature. Here's the thing with having a crush on a mysterious DJ; it's kind of an inconvenient place to hang your affections.

Kiss Me, You Animal by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. It totally wasn't his fault, okay? Frank would like that on record. Because it wasn't. An exploration of the complex dynamic between... oh, sod it. This is SHAMELESS KILLJOY PORN. \o/

Hold Your Heart Into This Darkness by tuesdaysgone, Korse/Gerard, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 90k, Explicit. A Danger Days: True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys AU

Keep Running by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 25k, Explicit. The Killjoys love doing as much damage to BL/ind as they can, and until now, they've been lucky enough to avoid getting caught by Korse and his draculoid followers. But Korse's mission isn't to just kill them, it's to hurt them—hurt Gerard. And to do that, he uses Frank. After a traumatic, death-defying escape, Frank sets out with the guys to get revenge. In between the car chases and the gunfights, Frank has to let himself heal and figure how to return Gerard's feelings.

Ghost and Dust by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), Bob/Gerard, 28k, Explicit, General Audiences. Bob Bryar - also known as Spit Fire, the fifth Killjoy - should've died in the desert after Korse shot him in the head. But death isn't permanent in the zones, and rescue's nearly as ugly. When the fate of the resistance rides on Bob's shoulders, can Bob stop the mysterious enemies who anticipate his every move and cope with the mess Better Living Industries made of his life?

The Ballad of the Kobra Kid by romanticalgirl, Gabe & Mikey, 16k, Mature. You might be gone, but out here in the desert, your shadow lives on without you.

Empty Spaces by Ischa, Show Pony/Hayley Williams, Show Pony/Party Poison, 9k, General Audiences. Roughly five years in Show Pony's life. From his first love at 14, over his vow to never fall in love again to meeting Party Poison and then some more. “So, I hear you like words?” Poison asks out of the blue. Pony gives D a betrayed look. D has to fucking know that Pony isn't keen on being friends with Poison. He isn't even keen on pretending to be civil for god's sake!

Killjoys by greedy_dancer, Frank/Gerard, 7k, Teen And Up Audiences, Explicit. Gerard hasn't looked at himself properly in a while.

Bright white noise by Ischa, Party Poison/OFC, Party Poison/Pete, 12k, Explicit. Young Party Poison trying to find out who he wants to be. Ditching his fourteen year old brother, hooking up with dangerous women and catching rides with strangers. This is NOT a how Gerard became Party Poison fic. He knows that he's being a dick to her, but he feels restless and no one heard from Doctor D in weeks. It's not unusual, but Poison worries. Fuck, he thinks, he didn't worry when he was on the road and shooting at Dracs, letting Pischer fuck him and slept curled up in the backseat of her car. He misses the smell of the desert. This here isn't the desert. This is domesticated desert. It's not the same as being out there in the zones that could kill you just because you dared to step on the sand.

The Edges of This Map Have Been Burned by snarkydame, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Mature. The Killjoys took to the oceans, instead of the desert, and raid the BL/ind supply lines with only tenuous contact with the Zone Runners on land. When Gerard is lost, and taken by S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W's top captain, Korse, the crew of the Neon Angel have to get him back. Whether or not they'll get him back whole. . .

Keep The Car Running by inlovewithnight, Gabe/Mikey, 27k, Mature. Disaster Boy and the Kobra Kid: a love story.

A Spark Set to Flame by turps, Gen, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard may be free, but he's discovered freedom costs. He's holed himself up in a room that's falling apart, he's lost the man he loves, and his brother is slipping away.Now Gerard's on the verge of losing himself, unless he can somehow find the strength to fight back.

War by akamine_chan, Korse/Gerard, 7k, Explicit. Korse doesn't usually see a need to go out into the field himself, he has his Draculoids and the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W teams for that. But sometimes there's no way to avoid it.

Better Now Than How It Used to Be by Sena, Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid, 9k, Mature. Kobra's life is mostly stimulants and science projects -- radios and water filtration systems being the two most important. He's got his projects and his pills, has his brother and the woman whose bed his brother warms, and that's more than enough for him. He doesn't even notice the way he makes room for Fun Ghoul until it's done, until there's a spot just for him that would be cold and empty if Ghoul ever walked away.

descend!verse by corruptedkid, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 133k, Teen And Up Audiences. Better Living didn't keep Party Poison alive as a kindness. "Rehabilitation," they called it. Slowly eating away at his identity, removing all the pieces they didn't like, then filling in the gaps until he was a normal, healthy citizen. But while they could silence his mind, there would always be music in his heart. There would always be a spirit that couldn't be crushed by pills or empty words. Even if Poison wasn't Poison anymore, he couldn't stop fighting if he tried.

Lost & Searching by wakingup, Lindsey/Laura Jane Grace, 10k, Not Rated. The Zonerunner pushed up into a sitting position, long legs bent in front of them. She couldn’t see their face because of their motorcycle helmet—a red anatomical skull painted on the side of it—all she could see was long brown hair spilling over their shoulders. Over the mouth of the helmet was painted “DEVOUR” in the same bright red. Lindsey felt goosebumps rise along her spine.

[afangirlwashere]

We’ll always be back then (p.p. x reader)

Summary: A good thing ends to enable another good one to happen.

Warnings: a few swear words here and there, some angst 

A/N: I got really sad thinking about losing Tony and now Spider-Man in the same year and this happened.

Song inspo: this absolute gem that inspired the title, Where did all my friends go - Jamie Campbell Bower, Alone is no together - The Darling Buds

Masterlist

Peter’s stomach twisted and turned as his eyes fixed on the Iron Man helmet set on a small table in the living room.  His hands damped and he swallowed so much saliva that throwing up seemed like a very real option. 

He looked away trying to calm his senses but when he saw Pepper’s small polite smile while Morgan sat in her lap playing with her mother’s hands, staring at Pepper’s wedding ring, he felt his breathing quicken.  Morgan’s eyes wandered around the room as her little fingers kept twisting the wedding ring and her eyes eventually met with Peter’s. 

He got introduced to Morgan today before the funeral ceremony but they barely spoke to each other. It was only now that he could see her face for a little longer that he realized - she has Tony’s eyes.  They’re big and the same shade of dark brown. Though Peter couldn’t think of Tony’s eyes without remembering the last time he saw them he knew that whenever his mentor looked at him they were warm with admiration and love. They were in his last moments too. 

Morgan’s, on the other hand, weren’t like that at all. Even though Pepper had introduced him as ‘The Peter Parker’ to her he was still a complete stranger. And Morgan was smart for her age, or at least that’s what Happy told him this morning when he drove them to the lake. One of the first things you teach your child is stranger danger and the house was full of people who were exactly that. So she stayed as close to her mother as possible. 

Peter felt his body move without knowing where it was headed. He pushed the glass doors open to get out of the house and maybe puke somewhere more private.

“Peter? Are you okay?” he heard his aunt’s faint voice. She was the one talking to Pepper right now. 

“Just need some fresh air...” he mumbled so quietly that he was sure none of them heard him. 

His tie felt like it was choking him but it was impossible to loosen with shaky hands. His feet fumbled from the stairs and that’s when he noticed a figure standing on the bridge to the lake. 

At first, he thought it must have been one of the guests because all the women had some kind of a black dress and a coat. But the closer he got the more unsure he was. 

As he was opening his mouth to speak a small figure ran past him brushing his leg lightly. Morgan rammed in the girl's leg with full force almost knocking her into the lake. 

“You scared me dumpling.” she turned around and stroked Morgan’s hair delicately “What are you doing outside alone?” Shortly after the unknown girl’s head jerked up noticing they weren’t completely alone. 

Peter’s own stranger danger flags were going red at this point. He didn’t see this girl at the ceremony or inside for that matter. Even though Morgan seemed to be close with her - a lot closer than with him which stung - his first instinct was to take Morgan back inside and protect her from a possibly dangerous person.

“The nice lady wanted to go after Pete but mommy said that I should go see if he’s alright. I think she wants us to be friends like him and daddy.” Morgan watched the girl kneel to her.

“That’s nice.” she fixed the white collar on the little Stark’s dress.

Peter’s breath hitched in his lungs for a second.  He appreciated Pepper trying to formulate a better relationship between them and Morgan being a smarty pants picked up on it immediately.

“I also wanted to ask,” Morgan hugged herself trying to warm up, “uncle Happy said he’ll take me for some cheeseburgers and I thought you could come with us if you want?” 

The girl gave her a quick smile. “Of course. Are you going to invite anyone else?” she shot an obvious look towards Peter trying to help her out. 

Morgan rocked back and forth tugging at her dress. “Do you want to come with us, Pete?” 

“I’d love to,” he muttered cracking a tiny smile “if you want me there.” 

Morgan nodded still rocking her little body shyly. 

“Why don’t you go inside and tell your mom where we’re headed munchkin? I’ll come to the house in a minute and find you a jacket so you won’t catch a cold, okay?” 

They both watched Pepper opening the glass door when her daughter tapped on it. Peter saw Pepper’s polite smile again and then he noticed that the unknown girl had her hand in the air waving tenderly. 

“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Peter Parker.” he sticks out his own hand to shake.

“I know who you are...” the girl blurts out. 

Peter’s eyes widen slightly and he can’t help but think in panic ‘Does she know I’m Spider-Man?’.

When she notices his shock her mouth opens for a few seconds before she finds the courage to speak again. “Sorry that sounded kinda creepy. I meant he... um... They... There’s this photograph in the kitchen that I remember seeing whenever I was washing the dishes. It’s you and Mr. Stark holding a certificate upside down and doing bunny ears to each other. I always thought it was funny but I never saw you around or heard anyone mention you and one day I asked Mr. Stark about it...” she paused and looked away for a second taking a breath of fresh air. “He told me that you were an intern at the Stark Industries before you blipped. I didn’t ask more about you it seemed like a sensitive topic for him. But I think he kept it there to remember you.” 

Peter felt tears prickle his already red eyes so he lowered his head nodding and sniffing. 

“I’m sorry if I agitated you I really didn’t mean to.” she stepped closer to him putting her hand out finally “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Morgan’s babysitter.” they shook hands shortly and firmly. “If you’re worried about her acting weird you don’t have to. She’ll warm up to you.” 

Peter’s lips pressed together in a line as he nodded once more. “So... How did you become a babysitter? You seem kind of young.” 

“Yeah well... Same applies to you.” 

“That’s fair.” he cracked a smile. 

(Y/N) dug her hands in her pockets and squinted. “It’s a longer story than you’d expect. It includes a broken bike, a breakin, the Iron Man armor, some broken vases and an almost trip to the AE.”

The only thing Peter managed to say after that was a quiet wow. 

(Y/N) shrugged. “What can I say? When an expensive sports car ends up in your poor neighborhood and Tony Stark - after fixing your bike - drags that old piece of shit to the seventh floor it’s not something you just tide over. Pretty sure my mom almost had a heart attack when she saw him in our living room.” 

“I can relate to your mom.” he chuckled thinking of his first time meeting Mr. Stark. “How much are you over to watch Morgan?” 

“Once a month or two. They never liked leaving Morgan alone too much. There have been a few emergencies when an expensive car would just pull up in front of our building and a grumpy Mr. Hogan would drive me here. I like to think that I grew on him after two years.” 

She made the boy smile again. It wasn’t hard to notice that it wasn’t a completely honest smile. His eyes didn’t crinkle and his teeth didn’t show.  So she made a promise to herself that day. (Y/N) swore to not stop until he starts smiling like that again. She owed it to the man that gave his life to bring him and so many others back. 

“I’m sorry if I come off as nosy,” Peter looked back to the house as if he wanted to make sure nobody was listening in. “But why weren’t you here at the ceremony?” 

He almost immediately regretted his question because (Y/N) bit on her lip and averted her eyes to the lake. Just as he was about to apologize and try to make a shitty joke she spoke. “I-I didn’t feel like I belong here. With everyone that was so close to him... Mrs. Potts invited me but I just... I thought it would be better if I  showed up later for Morgan? Because I was the one who was with her when it happened.” she closed her eyes and then immediately looked up. Peter knew that she was trying to suppress tears. He did that move too. “I just remember some strange guy with a red cape and pretty intense facial hair if you ask me,” her eyes were teary when she let out a chuckle still trying to keep this horrible story lighthearted. “Opening a portal in my room and Mrs. Potts had the blue armor I saw in the garage once. She said that it’s urgent and I jumped right in to take care of Morgan. I saw the news that people were coming back so I figured there must be a fight going on. But I didn’t really know what was going on until she came back with Mr. Rhodes.” 

Peter felt like an asshole for making her talk about something that obviously traumatized her to the core. He himself couldn’t even talk about the whole fight nor his last moments spent with Mr. Stark. But he couldn’t share his story. He was just Peter Parker to her. A guy that had an internship at the Stark Industries. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” he croaked out. “I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been.” oh but he could.

(Y/N) wiped her nose. “We should probably stop making each other cry and get inside or they’re going to go for those cheeseburgers without us.” she stopped next to Peter waiting for a response. 

He looked back at the lake one more time, the reactor nestled in the flowery wreath was out of sight a long time ago but he still wanted to try and seek it for assurance. 

“Okay. Maybe you could tell me the story of how exactly Mr. Stark ended up dragging your bike to the seventh floor on our way?” they walked to the house alongside each other. 

“Sure!” (Y/N) grinned at the boy. “So, it started on a calm thursday afternoon when I got the genius idea to go bike without a map...” 

[not-a-statement]

The last time I forget you

This is kind of therapy for me.

A sequel to Forgotten art of letting go

I know I’m bad at writing dialogues and this all is dumb, forgive me, but I wanted to do this.

Also the title and the last Dipper’s line together make a piece of a lyrics. Let’s see if you’ll recognize the song:)

“If you hit it with your baton I’ll slap you…” Craig hissed.

Eric snickered covering his mouth with the fist. Dipper’s hand hovered.

“Wait, what else I’m supposed to do? The damn thing is inside. It’s gonna give away our presence.”

“So what good your baton’s gonna make? Apart from making it screech.”

“No wonder you are a damn idiot, Dipper.” Eric kept losing it.

“It’s Brian, remember?”

“Yeah, Brian with an i so it looks like brain. Just admit it.”

Craig gave Dipper an intense glare.

“You gonna go for it?”

Dipper’s knuckles turned white. His weapon clutched in his fist, one action dividing him from a smart step or a total failure. At that moment no borders existed, no distinctions mattered, only thing present which dimmed Dipper’s eyes was anticipation of that little dinosaur’s pain. Its agony, its frustrated screams. He only needed to open his fist.

But he couldn’t.

“You gonna roll or what?”

Dipper lowered his hand letting of D6.

“Ah, screw you. I’m not gonna do anything.”

Craig gave him a questioning glance.

“I know you have only 5 for intelligence but even for you that’s odd. I mean props on taking PC that serious, but have you considered wringing its neck?”

“Hey, Dip, no offence on calling you a dumbass, bro. I didn’t mean that” Eric raised his both hands as if defending himself.

“Yeah, whatever” Dipper reached out for bowl of chips “Let’s just move on”

Craig stayed motionless, his eyes scanning Dipper like he was a walking X-ray machine. Eric was just fiddling with his papers looking at the tabletop.

“What?”

“Are you okay, Dip?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Cause you look like something’s bothering you.”

“No I’m not.”

“Actually” Eric said “you are. Kind of been looking like that for more than a month”

An uncomfortable silence crashed in, covering three friends in Craig’s living room. Only one of them knew what kind of waters this topic was about to approach, but it seemed like everybody was aware. After about half a minute Craig raised from his chair and left for kitchen.

“Dude, is there a girl?” It wasn’t like Dipper wasn’t expecting that kind of question but there was something in how Eric said that. In a way like he could look inside his soul. Some sympathy, understanding actually. And that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah...” Dipper exhaled “there is a girl”

The sound of someone digging through fridge’s insides reached the living room accompanied with a clicking sound of glass bottles.

“Hey, Dip-brochete. You know there’s like loads of girls out there, right?” Eric reached out to place his hand on Dipper’s shoulder “and I freaking bet all my savings that at least a half of them would love to spend even a brief moment with you, man. So you know what you should think?”

“Probably she’s dating someone, isn’t she?” Craig reentered the room holding three bottles of beer in his hands. “Wouldn’t be that bothering the other way, huh”

“Aye, that’s exactly my point, bruh!” Eric absentmindedly took a bottle from Craig “If she’s with some other douchebag out there, what good it says about her?“

“Go on”

“Your face will go on” Eric took a swig “How worthy of being adored she could possibly be if she’s neglecting Dip? Like for real - look at you, bro! Top of most classes, book lover, facial hair grower - you are a full package if I do say so myself. Plus I heard girls can be easily attached to brainiacs.”

“Have you ever been with a lady, Eric?” half asked half teased Craig “It’s not like they have checklists for every boy they meet. They are more of feelers rather than estimators”

“Well that’s just dumb. If a girl just appeals to how heart beats or to how many butterflies come to life in your stomach in a presence of a boy she can’t be trusted”

“Hoookay...good luck with your date for upcoming Prom, mate” Craig chuckled “Anyway, who exactly are we talking about, Dipper? If you don’t mind”

“Oh...um” Dipper could feel the first bead of sweat forming at the nape of his neck “She...she’s not from around, she...I mean we...we’ve met in the park the other day actually, so I...doubt you guys are likely to know her...so...yeah”

“Oh, I see. So, that makes it easier I reckon” Craig placed his bottled aside and laid his arms on the table intertwining his fingers “I mean somewhat distance can play good to you. Would be much more severely if you had to face her every day”

“Yeah, tell me about it..” cold and fuzzy bread brewed liquid was alien to Dipper’s throat yet it felt just right. “Add in seeing that blonde tall fucker around her...”

“Wow, that’s harsh. Some dark feelings detected given the F word, mate” Eric eyes started dimming and filling with more sympathy. “Had a chance to see them together?”

“No...no, I mean...how could I, right?” Dipper started backtracking “It’s not like we’re seeing each other often”

“But what’s about that “You tell me” thing?” Craig started to look bewildered.

“That...um...like c’mon, man...have you heard about instagram? It’s like pretty huge”

“Ah, so there’s a pictures of her and her boyfriend you stumbled upon?”

“Yeah, that’s it...totally” Dipper downed his beverage hoping that its coolness would somehow low the temperature within his cheeks.

“And you keep looking them up?”

“I bet he doesn’t” Eric said “How dumb would it be?”

“So you don’t, Dip?” Craig gave Dipper an incredulous look.

“Well, I...” he started looking up for an excuse but failed instantly. “I...I do...”

Both Craig and Eric threw their heads back and groaned.

“What? What’s so wrong about it?”

“What’s so wrong?” Craig asked back “Dipper, that’s like a self torture”

“Yeah, Craig’s right, man. How can you ever gonna get over her if you keep sticking around? Even virtually.”

“Oh, c’mon, that’s not too bad. I’m not like constantly around her, am I” apparently excuses of any kind were not working for Dipper “Besides, if I couldn’t succeed at least I can...you know, analyze”

“Analyze what? Reasons why she’s with him and not with you?”

“Why not? There’s gotta be something”

“Remember what I said, Dip?” Craig asked “Feelers, rather than estimators”

“Oh, do you personally believe in that, Craig?”

“Um. I do”

“But there’s a cause for every feeling, right? I mean what’s so special about that arrogant always preoccupied dumbass? As if I couldn’t get into an argument with the teacher about some History junk. Or like is playing tuba more lame than playing the guitar? Or...or...”

“Dipper, would you knock it off already?” Craig raised both his hands “Look. There’s nothing wrong about you or special about him. It’s just feelings. You can’t predict them or control...well, if you’re not a manipulating asshole which you’re not but...it just happens you know? Chemistry - that’s all.”

Dipper let out a defeated exhale. Of course Craig had a point. Just like a something came to life between him and Mabel once it happened again. It didn’t manage to smother any of his aching though but it wasn’t meant to either. So once again it was Dipper’s job to make himself somewhat resistant to what he felt around her and that jackass. And there’s no point in comparing him and...

“Wait a second...” Eric frowned thoughtfully rubbing his chin “The guitar, the History class banter...I think I know...Pete Weinberg?”

A quick thought consisting only one word “Shit!” flew through Dipper’s mind. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and palms growing sweatier than they could ever be. He wasn’t supposed to reveal so many details to slip up at this point. Honestly he shouldn’t be getting into this conversation in the first place. He must’ve shaken it off immediately when Eric asked first question. He could just pretend that it was upcoming graduation from school or how frustrated he was feeling when it came to picking up the college because he had to make sure that he didn’t end up choosing the same city with a certain person because she was making him feel...Oh, he we go again, shit!  

He was dragged out of his panicked thoughts only by the sound of Eric snickering. 

“Oh, sorry, dude” Eric managed to say between the laughing waves. “My bad, my bad. That’s too dumb of me. I mean, that Pete guy, he’s definitely dating your sister, I must’ve messed up! Sorry, no insult intended”

Oh, Eric, bless your soul Dipper thought. He couldn’t believe that he was given such an easy escape at that moment.

“Yeah, bro, what was you thinking about” he awkwardly laughed too loudly. “I thought I had the lowest intelligence here! Speaking of - shall we continue our journey through the park full of pre-historic giant reptilian creatures?”

“Oh yeah, baby! I’m down! Sorry once again, bruh”

“Not to worry, dude, not to worry”

Dipper and Eric took their now empty bottles from the table and started shuffling through papers while Craig remained motionless looking at Dipper with a concerned expression on his face.

                                                          * * *

“So next Sunday, gentlemen” Eric cheerfully proclaimed standing at the doorstep of Craig’s house “Next time the map’s on me.You’ll gonna love it”

“Just don’t mess up your binder and your sister one next time, would you?” Dipper laughed “I hope she now can spell the word “doggie” correct”

“You make it sound kinky man, gah! She’s six!”

“Your face is kinky”

“Okay, that one’s for you” Dipper and Eric exchanged a handshake still laughing “Right, I’m off. See you tomorrow, lads”

“Bye, Eric” said Craig and Dipper in unison.

As soon as Eric took his direction of a sidewalk and Dipper just put his jacket on was about to say goodbye to Craig the last started speaking:

“Hey, Dip”

“Yeah?”

“Um...about earlier. I couldn’t help noticing you acting a bit...weird when Eric mentioned Weinberg so...”

Dipper froze in spot where he was standing, his pupils going wider.

“I mean...Dipper, I am your friend, you know that?”

With a nervous gulp the only reaction Dipper could make was to nod slightly.

“So...I just wanted you to know that if you want to talk to anybody...you can tell me anything. If that helps”

Dipper couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Craig was actually offering him to vent out his frustration and really seriously talk about his messed up feelings for his sibling. Oh, for how long he wished to have such an option. To lay down all his cards and get a third party’s opinion for him to find a way but...

On the second thought a secret for two should stay as it is and not become a secret for three.

“Yeah” he exhaled “I wish I could...”

With that said he shook his friend’s arm and stepped out to begin his walk home.

[earpdearp]

just the worst™

Wherein Waverly loses her cool when Shorty’s is sold and makes an irrationally rational decision for once. Nicole is mostly confused/caught in the cross-fire. 

Borrows conversations from mid-1x09 as a canon-adjacent catalyst to bridge my series “just friends” and “not just friends” together.

Dedicated to user @korderoo for giving me the idea. The straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were.

Also on AO3. Approximately 5,518 words.

Other WayHaught “just friends” fics in this series: just another tuesday | just coffee | just blowing off steam | just the beginning 

He showed up at Shorty’s wearing an ill-fitting gray suit with a red tie, a sheaf of paperwork in one hand and briefcase in the other. Normally, Waverly Earp would pay a guy like that little mind. But this gentleman didn’t come into Shorty’s for a drink: he came asking after Gus MacCready.

That set off warning bells for Waverly.

This wasn’t the first time Waverly had seen him. In fact, he’d returned several times in the past few weeks. A nagging worry had started to fester at the back of Waverly’s mind.

The next red flag was how attentive Gus had been to what he had to say. Hours a day were spent sifting through documentation, only to return with more papers a few days later. They typically pored over his paperwork on the upper level table, usually just out of earshot at the bar.

What Waverly did manage to overhear, especially today, set her heart racing. And not in a good way.

“…is this what we agreed on?” Aunt Gus asked, eyes narrowing at the young man.

“To the letter,” he said with a lopsided grin.

Topping off the beer she’d been pouring for Pete, Waverly shot the customer a hurried smile. “There you go,” she muttered and started to turn away to resume her eavesdropping.

“I heard about you and Champ, by the way,” Pete said shyly, sweeping off the brim of his tan flat cap and running fingers over a short crop of hair.

Uh huh, she thought disinterestedly. Waverly affixed a kind smile to her cheeks but avoided eye contact with Pete. She strained to hear what Gus and That Guy were saying, but she could only make out flipping pages and a clicking pen.

“He never treated you right, Waverly,” Pete said. She waved off the comment, mostly because it wasn’t entirely true. But the thought agitated her more than she already was.

Champ wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Or a bad guy. He’s just… not what I’m looking for. Or what I need.

Pete continued, a smile turning the edges of his scruffy cheeks. “I was thinking, you know, any man in Purgatory would be lucky to have you…”

Inwardly groaning, Waverly stopped herself short of scoffing, “But would I be lucky to have them?”

Rolling his thumbs around that mug of beer, Pete’s eyes didn’t quite meeting Waverly’s. “And I was also thinking that—“

Oh God. No no no no no no no.

Eyes widening, Waverly leapt in to cut off his train of thought. “—that you should find a gal like me, only taller, right? So she can actually get up in that custom-lifted, tricked-out pickup of yours?” She nodded at him significantly, praying Pete would get the hint.

Thankfully, Pete took the out rather than the impending bruise to his ego. His grin was a little pained, but he agreed, “Uh, yea. Yea, exactly.” Pausing for a beat, Pete then asked, “…is Wynonna… still around?”

Waverly made an exhale-sound in disgust and shot him a withering glare. She shooed him away from the counter with her bar towel, where he joined his brother at the pool table. There was a lull before the boys started chuckling among themselves and threw looks behind them at Waverly. She glared daggers back and made a swiping motion across her throat while smugly mouthing, “Ha ha you’re cut off.” That shut them up with an expletive before they racked a new game of pool.

Ugh. Men are all the same.

Sighing, Waverly scrubbed at a pair of clean mugs from the dishwasher below the bar. She went back to staring despondently at Gus near the front of the saloon. The older woman was still flipping through a stack of papers, hand at her chin, eyes probing every line of print. A pen rolled on her knuckles, poised and ready.

Just as that pen clicked one final time, Waverly straightened and announced, “I’m gonna take my break now!”

Her aunt only nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes focused on the documents in front of her.

That little brush-off grated on Waverly. She resisted the urge to huff as she gathered up her blue coat and brown purse to head for the door. A chill Purgatory wind stung Waverly’s cheeks as she stepped outside.

But Waverly just couldn’t stay and watch. She knew what was coming. The thing Waverly had been low-key dreading for weeks had arrived, complete with that rumpled gray suit and red tie.

Today was the day: Gus was selling Shorty’s.

“What the frick is going on today?” Waverly asked no one in particular as she stalked down the street, clutching her elbows to brace against the cold.

This whole day had felt off since she’d rolled out of bed this morning.

Even though there had been a lull in BBD cases lately, Wynonna was a scarce sight at the Homestead. So was Doc. Dolls was… Dolls.

And Nicole…

Waverly scowled as she checked her phone. No new SnapChats or text messages. Same as yesterday.

Things were weird with Nicole since Waverly had sent that text after watching the sunrise. It was like they forgot how to be friends.

It was all Waverly’s fault, too. She’d messed things up… crossed the line.

[“It was worth the trip”]

[“So are you”] …stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

Plus, the last time they’d bumped into each other outside the station had been a disaster. First they’d actually physically bumped into each other (via hard shoulder-check), then it was a race to see who could apologize first, then a lot of shy ground-kicking and “So…”

Pulling the brim down on her Stetson slightly, Nicole had asked, “So… how’s Wynonna?”

“She’s… Wynonna,” Waverly had replied simply. “So—uh—how’s… Calamity Jane?”

“She’s good.”

“Good.”

(Un)fortunately, Lonnie had knocked on the window to summon Nicole inside, so the women managed to part ways with just awkward smiles. And since then, Waverly had started about a dozen texts but deleted every single one. Which dragged out the weirdness further.

Ugh.

What am I gonna do? How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to normal again?

…what the heck would Normal even be?

As she rounded the street corner, Waverly halted dead in her tracks. Because at the next block over, Waverly spotted a familiar, uniformed profile complete with a white Stetson.

Oh you’ve got to be frickin’ kidding me.

Bathed in the flashing lights of her police cruiser, Officer Nicole Haught was indeed standing at the corner. She had her metal clipboard in hand and appeared to be giving a ticket to two college-age blonde girls.

As Waverly approached, she tried to blend in with some storefront awnings. The diner was just up the street and if Waverly could just get some food in her belly, maybe she could come up with a plan to—

“Hey! Wave!”

Frick.

Just on the other side of the street now, Nicole gave a broad smile and a gloved wave. Her motorists had briefly returned to their car to dig out purses and insurance information.

Sighing in resignation as she crossed the street, Waverly managed to step in a freezing puddle. She swore under her breath as the icy water seeped through a sock, soaking her toes. The low-key frustration at the base of her skull started to throb.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Nicole grimaced in empathy when she heard the splash. “Oh shoot, you okay? Sorry, I just wanted to say hey. I—I haven’t seen you in awhile, so…” She trailed off, her dimpled smile soft and sweet.

“Yea, it’s fine,” Waverly said, a little more sharply than she intended. When Nicole shrank back, Waverly gave a tight smile. “Sorry. Today just—today just sucks.” She stamped on her damp foot a little, feeling her sock bunch between her toes uncomfortably.

Ugh.

Tilting her head in sympathy, Nicole started, “I’m sorry to hear that. I tried texting you, but I wasn’t sure if—“

“Yea, me too,” Waverly rushed in with a bashful smile. “I keep just—and then just don’t know what to—“

A sing-sing voice interrupted the woman. “Yoohoo! Officer… Hoht?”

Both women turned at the same time to see the pair of blondes bounding back from their SUV, red passports in hand. They were practicing rolling Nicole’s unfamiliar last name in a foreign tongue. “Europeiska Unionen Sverige” was stamped in gold lettering on those red booklets.

Swedish?

“It’s Haught, ma’am,” Nicole corrected politely. She opened her hand to accept the pair of passports.

“Haaaaw-tuh,” one enunciated slowly. The other giggled, long eyelashes batting over heavily eye-shadowed blue eyes.

Nicole muttered under her breath just loud enough for Waverly to hear, “…Close enough.” She shot Waverly a wink as she continued writing on her metal clipboard.

Left Blonde twirled her scarf around her finger. “Will this be taking long time, Officer Hawwwt? We were wanting to see the Mount Rushmore today.”

Waverly chimed in with a wincing smile. “You’re off by a few hundred miles and a couple states.” She pointed to the southeast. “You want I-90. You’re on I-80.”

An argument started in Swedish, both women angrily slapping at each other’s elbows and shoulders for a few seconds. They also pulled phones from pockets to consult their maps. Waverly and Nicole just exchanged confused (but bemused) glances.

The Right Blonde then shushed the Left and gave a shy smile to Nicole. “You give us directions, maybe? Put us on right road?”

“Uh, sure…” Nicole replied, baffled but cordial. “After we discuss that illegal left turn y’all made. And you were going 22 miles above the posted speed limit.” She waved the ticket pad at them before returning Right Blonde’s passport.

“Is just mistake. Not happen again,” Left Blonde promised.

Right Blonde jumped in, her hand brushing down the elbow of Nicole’s coat (which Nicole pulled away from). “You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? You ever see the Mount Rushmore? Want to be joining us?” Her tone was low, enticing, flirty. Left Blonde nodded in emphatic agreement.

Ughhh. They… are the worst.

Feeling like she was in the way, Waverly started to take a few cautious steps back. Her cold foot made a squishing sound, which turned Nicole’s head. The woman gave Waverly a panicked frown, but for just a second Waverly thought she saw a fond uptilt to Nicole’s lips. Which sent a surge of something through Waverly’s chest, briefly overriding that throbbing frustration.

Right at that moment, the radio on Nicole’s shoulder sounded off with a crackle of static. [“Haught, do you copy?”] A male voice.

The Velcro made a soft ripping sound as Nicole pulled the radio to her mouth and clicked the call button. “This is Haught finishing an 11-95 on Cooper. Go ahead.” She slapped the radio back on her shoulder and continued writing on her ticket pad.

The male dispatcher continued. [“Haught, return to the station when you finish that 11-95.”]

Scowling, Nicole leaned into her radio. “Copy that. …is something wrong?”

[“Nedley wants your ass on desk duty.”] The dispatcher sounded apologetic. [“Something about how you’re the only one who gets shit done around here.”] There was brief, muffled outrage/agreement on the other end of the radio.

“Again?!“ Nicole grumbled under her breath before clicking the button one last time.  “10-4, on my way. Haught out.”

The two Swedish women groaned, first at being denied an “escort” and second at the ticket Nicole handed back along with the remaining passport. They attempted to salvage their disappointment by taking selfies with “a real police” and asking for Nicole’s number, which the woman declined (after shooting another panicked look at Waverly).

This whole exchange was… annoying to Waverly. And not just because she seemed invisible. Backing away slowly the way she came, Waverly smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m keeping you from doing your job. I should—I’ll just go.” She resisted the urge to add an unnecessarily snarky “Have fun” under her breath.

Nicole’s frown was apologetic. “Waverly…” She looked like she wanted to say more.

But Waverly had already turned and ran back across the street. Giving up on the diner, Waverly stomped back to Shorty’s (though she took the long way back, weaving through alleys). At least the walk might give her a chance to maybe clear her head. Minus the fact her boots squished every other step.

She didn’t quite know why she was so irritated, but Waverly’s blood was downright boiling as she strode through “downtown” Purgatory. Running into Nicole used to be such a lovely surprise. But that…

…That was such a stupid thing to be mad about. And what was there even to be mad about? Nothing even happened.

Ugh.

Maybe because Nicole was working and Waverly felt like she was in the way? But Nicole had called her over. If she was such a bother, why would Nicole go out of her way to talk to her?

She was missing something and that angered Waverly even more. It felt obvious but just out of reach. She wanted to talk to someone about it.

But Wynonna wasn’t around and… the only other person she wanted to talk to was… Nicole.

Ugh… How do I fix this? How do I make things go back to normal again?

…what would normal even be for us?

…Us…

Gus was shaking hands with the Gray Suit when Waverly returned to Shorty’s. File folders slapped closed, keys were waved about, and polite laughter drifted through the saloon.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. MacCready,” the man said before leaving. His eyes gave a worried sweep of the bar but when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he smiled in relief. Briefcase snapping shut, Gray Suit held the case to his chest protectively as he ventured out those heavy double doors.

Waverly stalked over to Gus. “So you just did it? You just went ahead and sold it,” she said accusingly.

Her Aunt’s gaze was hard. “Decisions had to be made.” Gus flipped back through her paperwork, blue pen bouncing between index and middle fingers. “I know you don’t believe me, but you were not born to be a Goddamn small-town waitress.”

That softened Waverly some. “Yea, I believe you...” Resentment and worry still burned in the back of her mind. She latched on to her outrage. “But I have, like, three shirts that say Shorty’s.”

It didn’t come out quite as biting as Waverly had hoped.

Gus smirked back. “Honey, it’s in the agreement: Shorty’s will never get torn down. You can work here in as many shirts as you want for as long as you want.” Her dark eyes flicked over Waverly in a quick once over, a mixture of warmth and disapproval.

Waverly tried to interject. “That’s not the point!”

“Things change, kid. I never thought I’d be the one makin’ this decision, but I made it all the same.” Gus tapped the heavy file folder on the edge of the counter to evenly align the batch of papers. “It’s past time I moved on from this town. Enjoy my retirement.” Her slanted smile was sad with apology. “I got an offer on the farm, too. From a nice family from Shelby.”

Sputtering, Waverly slammed her palms on the counter. “What?! You’re—you’re leaving?! And you didn’t—why didn’t—I didn’t know!” She could feel her pulse quicken, blood pounding in her ears.

“Cuz I didn’t want you to fret, Waverly. My sister’s got a spare room since her boy went away to college. It’s time I reconnect with my old life. Just like you’re doing with Wynonna,” she said with a significant nod. “Not all change is bad, honey. It just is. And it’s up to you to make the most of it.”

Waverly flopped her head down on the counter, long hair covering her face. The wood counter was cool on her forehead as she groaned into the surface. “I can’t believe this. This is the frickin’ worst.” She looked up through her curtain of brown strands. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” Waverly said, her voice small as her breath puffed against those hairs.

Her Aunt smiled and reached over. A soft, wrinkled hand parted the hair over Waverly’s forehead so her face was visible again. Gus stroked her hair for another second before laying the file folder back on the bar (the air tickling Waverly’s cheek in its wake).

“You too, kid. But when you decide you’re ready to unstick those wings of yours…” Gus trailed off as she reached into her back pocket. Unfolding a small crisp paper, she offered it to Waverly. “…Don’t cash it for a week or so.”

Lifting her head, Waverly took the thin paper and examined it before she asked, “What’s this?”

It was a check. And there were… a lot of zeroes at the end of that check.

What. The. Frick.

Leaning over the end of the bar, Gus patted Waverly’s elbow with a smile. “It’s freedom, honey!” She gave the check a joyful flick and shook her head in amusement. “You’ve been doing what others want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is you want.”

It should have been touching. Wonderful. Liberating.

But instead Waverly felt… empty. Lost. Alone.

She held in her hands the answer to so many questions… except she couldn’t remember what the question was that this was an answer to. She felt a heat in her eyes.

“…which is what?” Waverly retorted despondently.

A soft, sage smile. “Live your life,” Gus said. “Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want.” She paused to give Waverly a lingering look before winking. “Who we want.”

That caught in Waverly’s throat. She could only stare back, confused.

“You’ve always been an honest kid.” Patting her elbow again, Gus leaned in drop a kiss on Waverly’s cheek. “Don’t stop now.”

Gus scooped up her file of papers and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Waverly alone at the bar holding a small fortune in her hands (and more questions than answers).

The Purgatory Reservoir stretched out before Waverly, the water’s gentle ripples reflecting a cloudy afternoon sky. With a line of snowy Jeep tracks leading to her hidden alcove, Waverly’s Spot was just as quiet as always. Sipping on her second (third?) espresso, Waverly licked her lips against the cinnamon flavoring and stared out at the horizon.

She’d gone home to change out of her Shorty’s getup, and not just for a dry pair of socks. Even in her favorite white wool sweater with a coffee in hand, Waverly still felt cold. There was nervous energy in her chest that sent little shivers through her shoulders and collarbone.

What the frick is going on today??

Everything felt so… empty. This place, Waverly’s safe place against everything crazy with Purgatory… it didn’t seem so magical. The Reservoir was just a dingy, fake lake chiseled out of rock.

The last time she’d been here, she’d brought Nicole. It had been… something. Something bigger. Now it was back to being small and lonely.

Waverly folded and unfolded that check. The same line of zeroes was still there. A small fortune wrapped up in a such a small piece of paper.

It was funny: when Wynonna had first showed up, she offered to hock Peacemaker so the Earp sisters could go abroad and leave Purgatory behind for good. Now, Waverly had the money to do that twice over.

But things were different from then in so many ways. Wynonna had embraced being the Heir. Breaking the Earp Curse didn’t seem like so lofty a pipedream, but an actual possibility. And Waverly… she was helping. All those years poured into research and history and language was finally getting put to use.

The nervous energy in Waverly’s chest dredged up an old hurt for a moment and she let it roll through her.

Wynonna. Sweet, older sister. The protective one. The strong one. …And the screw-up who’d left Waverly behind.

Waverly, who stayed. Waverly, who dedicated her life to breaking the Earp Curse. Waverly… who couldn’t break the Goddamn curse.

And Wynonna, who just waltzed back into town on raw, God-given talent and the only one who knew where Peacemaker had been hidden. It had hurt to be left out, to be the only one who took things seriously, to yet again be Not Enough as an Earp.

That stupid Revenant hadn’t been wrong: Waverly was envious—jealous—of Wynonna. And while she was proud that her sister was finally taking it all seriously finally, a small part of Waverly was still resentful. It was a slow burn of forgiveness that was rooted in long-time little sister spite. But even Waverly could admit her big sister had grown into the role and—through trial by fire and then some—was equal to the task.

So, they couldn’t just up and leave Purgatory. Not after they’d worked so hard and come together as a team. As a family.

“It’s freedom, honey!” Gus has said.

Why didn’t it feel like freedom?

Waverly could go for a Master’s degree at a decent university. Or go to Japan or the ocean or at the very least just leave Purgatory for the first time in her life. Anything she ever wanted, she could go do. Right now, if she wanted.

But… why didn’t any of those things sound good?

Slouching back into her seat with an annoyed sigh, Waverly took a deep sip of her coffee. She played with the ends of her scarf, her gaze drifting back to the passenger seat.

Nicole.

The image of the woman watching the sunrise with such awe and wonder was burned into Waverly’s memory. Her red hair tousled from sleep, bundled in Waverly’s blanket, hands politely folded around the coffee that Waverly had carefully made for her at four in the morning.

For some reason, Nicole tended to linger in Waverly’s head. For minutes, hours, days after they spent time together. They’d talked for less than a minute on the street earlier, yet Waverly still remembered the earrings she’d been wearing (round gold studs) and the smell of vanilla.

That warm flutter around Waverly’s shoulders calmed for a moment, until the voice of those two Swedish girls returned in her mind. Then a scowl darkened Waverly’s face, the agitation quickening her blood.

She resented those women’s confidence and brashness. They didn’t care what anyone thought. Just aimlessly wandered around the Northwest in an SUV without a care in the world. No plan, no nothing. They just went out and did whatever they wanted. Including…

“You doing things later, Officer Hawwwt? Want to be joining us?”

They just—they just asked. They didn’t need to go to JD’s and plan out what they were gonna say. They didn’t need days of psyching themselves up to plan a stupid sunrise (probably). But there it was: envy. Envy for a whole wide world of people doing things Waverly couldn’t/wouldn’t/didn’t/hadn’t.

Waverly’s thumb wandered to her own phone, her message history with Nicole depressingly quiet.

It was a shitty thing to be resentful about, she realized. Because she was basically mad at herself for not taking action. She’d always just let things happen to her. Let Champ Hardy ask her out. Let Wynonna take charge of the Curse. Let herself be a Goddamn small-town waitress instead of—what?

“You’ve been doing what others want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is you want.”

“…which is what?”

“Live your life.”

Okay, Waverly thought with a long, slow breath. She tried to center herself like she did in yoga. Focused on breathing, let the outside world fade away, just her and the next breath.

What do I want? If I could want anything? Right here and now?

A bunch of thoughts trickled in. Glimpses of things she’d seen on YouTube or read about, secret passages of her diary… Swimming in the ocean or the wind on her face with the world below.

Pretty scary. But… lacking somehow now.

Maybe because… she could do those whenever she wanted? There was no urgency, no risk attached anymore. A good plan would take care of any of those little bucket-list things (now that she had the money).

Okay. What else?

“Remember: some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws at us. About what we want. Who we want.”

Her fingers felt around in her purse and found a small piece of paper. Not the check Aunt Gus had given her. This paper was thicker, smaller, lined with creases where it had been folded and unfolded over and over again. The pad of her index finger traced the embossing and Waverly didn’t even need to open her eyes it to know what it said.

“Officer Nicole Haught, Purgatory Sheriff’s Department.”

Inhaling a shuddering breath, Waverly let it out slowly. That jangling feeling in her chest started again, pushing her to stop hiding and put into words this tightly coiled anxiety she’d been holding on to for so long.

That tight feeling had come so close to being free, weeks ago. On that afternoon when Waverly had run into Nicole on the street.

“I kind of just discovered it,” Waverly had said, out loud, finally. The courage to put to words had been on the tip of her tongue, a short lifetime of restrained almosts laid bare. Except it had gone horribly wrong, dismissed by a distracted Nicole. The woman had apologized later, but not before Waverly had boxed that thought back up again and put it back on the shelf. To be dealt with later.

With another shaky inhale, Waverly pulled that thought close again, hugged it to her. And when she exhaled, she finally—finally—let it go.

Waverly liked Nicole. A lot. A lot, a lot.

Not as friends.

“Friends” don’t wonder what the other one is doing all hours of the day (and night).

“Friends” don’t get goosebumps when the other touches them.

“Friends” don’t wish the other would look at her the way Nicole did, like she saw inside her (and what’s more: liked what she saw).

She wanted Nicole. Wanted her, wanted her.

She wanted to know the things that made Nicole laugh—that sweet, deep, melodic laugh.

She wanted to know what Nicole was thinking when she chewed her cheek or licked her lips that certain way.

She wanted to know what Nicole felt like. Smelled like. Tasted like.

Eyes shooting open, Waverly let out another long breath. That feeling in her chest… it loosened. Like she was lighter. Relieved, even.

Okay.

She needed talk to Nicole. Make a plan. Tell her—tell her Waverly liked her. And maybe… they could start over?

…But what if she said no?

Nicole had already gotten hurt—almost died—before. If she stuck around, Nicole could get hurt again, maybe worse. The Earp Curse was kind of a big secret to keep/problem to deal with. Maybe… maybe it’s better if Waverly didn’t say anything?

“You’ve always been an honest kid.”

She knew she was looking for an excuse to bail. She scowled at herself, at how scared she was. How close she was to chickening out already.

Oh God what if Nicole said no?

…Oh God what if Nicole said yes?

That was the real question she was afraid of. If it was a No, she could just put that thought back on its shelf. Easy. Simple. Safe. Waverly knew what that life was like (since she was basically living it right now, so no surprises there).

But a Yes… that was Big. All those exciting Firsts wrapped in all those potential mistakes. All Waverly’s Earp baggage laid bare along with all of Nicole’s. And all that terrifying Unknown made less scary knowing there was someone to share it all with.

Shifting her Jeep into reverse, Waverly made a two-point turn before heading back up the trail back to Purgatory. She downed the rest of her coffee in one big swallow, drumming her fingers on her steering wheel.

Okay. What’s the plan?

Okay. First go to the station and find Nicole. Obviously.

What if she’s not there? Do I text her? Meet her somewhere?

Waverly had to chew her cheek a moment before remembering: Nicole is on desk duty. She should be at the station.

Okay. What about anyone else?

She glanced the clock on her dashboard: 4:15 PM.

Okay. Nedley should be at Shorty’s and if Nicole is on desk, that puts Lonnie out on patrol. And no Dolls or Wynonna at BBD to bug me.

Okay. Nicole should be alone at the station. Then what?

“Live your life.”

Striding up those steps, Waverly headed straight for the Sheriff’s Department on pure instinct. Her heart was hammering in her throat. And her plan was total shit.

Waverly still hadn’t thought of something good to say other than just blurting out “I like you, Nicole” in the middle of the station. She was breathing through her nose, dangling earrings tickling Waverly’s cheeks from her fast gait. She was nervous and agitated from all that damn espresso, too. It was hard to keep a thought still in her head.

When she reached a familiar hallway, Waverly hung back just outside the station. She saw the back of an older woman at the police desk. Dolores, Judge Cryderman’s secretary, was doing some admin work. Waverly waited for the woman to leave before approaching.

Eyes skimming the station, Waverly felt an equal mixture of relief and anxiety to see the place was empty. Just like she’d hoped/dreaded.

Nicole Haught sat at the desk, pen scratching over a form. Her brow was knit in focus.

“Hey, Nedley out for dinner?” Waverly asked in a rush, barely able to make eye contact.

Head jerking up, Nicole’s eyes crinkled when she saw Waverly. The woman tilted her head with a deadpan reply. “You mean ‘happy hour at Shorty’s?’”

Waverly mumbled a “yea” as she looked over at Nedley’s blessedly empty office.

Perfect.

Nicole gave a small nod as she sat back in her chair, dropping the pen on her form. “Same time every day, kinda like clockwork. Do you need h—?”

That nod was all Waverly needed. She pushed through the wooden divider, past Nicole and into the Sheriff’s office. Setting her purse down on the desk, Waverly gave the office a fraction of a second once-over before heading for the window blinds that looked out into the bullpen.

“Hey! Wave!”

Nicole’s confused shout behind Waverly made her move faster. She tugged on the cords in rapid succession, the wooden slats angling closed on one, then another, then the third window. Standing in the doorway was a very confused Nicole, who again offered a soft “Hey?”

Nudging the taller woman aside, Waverly offered a gruff “excuse me” as she edged the door closed with a gentle slam. She looked out the office door one last time, but there was no one around.

Oh God.

When Waverly turned, Nicole snapped, “What is your problem?? I don’t understand why you—!“

That almost—almost—stopped Waverly. But she had already pushed forward, letting instinct and her pounding heartbeat lead. She was too close to stop now. She had to know.

Waverly had done the only thing that came to mind: she lunged forward and just kissed Nicole. She was just so tall. And when Waverly felt some resistance, she almost let go (but she had too much momentum propelling her forward).

But then… Nicole’s hands clamped down over hers. And not to push Waverly’s hands away, either. They held tight to Waverly’s wrists, one near Nicole’s neck and the other on her waist. Nicole held on, but the balance had already been upset and they were falling backward.

Luckily, Nicole somehow had the ability to maneuver them around the corner to the couch. And there… it continued for a moment. Held fast. Just like Waverly had hoped and feared and everything in between as they kissed.

Oh God, she was so soft and sweet yet firm and strong and—oh! Nicole tasted every bit as good as she smelled. Her head tilted in just the right ways, pushing and pulling against Waverly’s tongue with a gasp. When Waverly felt Nicole pull back from underneath her(!), she finally broke contact. Her heart still fluttered in her chest, but from happiness this time.

“It’s freedom, honey!”

While the last thing Waverly had seen before she shut her eyes tight was irritation on Nicole’s face, now that woman beamed back at Waverly with impossible joy. The light from the outside window shone almost like a halo on Nicole’s head.

All Waverly saw now were dimples and glowing skin and warm brown eyes and Nicole was just beautiful and Waverly’s voice caught in her throat.

Laughing lightly, Nicole’s question was laced with breathless amusement:

“What happened to ‘friends?’”

[rilenerocks]

Back in the old days, when  I listened to music, except for radio time, I listened to whole albums. This was before the internet, before mp3’s, just plain old before. Over the years, Michael began to compile cassette tapes and then CD’s that were eventually called House Favorites.

They represented the tastes of all of us in our family with something on them for everyone. We listened to these on road trips and eventually, I got used to the order of the songs on them, which replaced the order of songs I expected on the albums from which they’d been extracted. Then the IPod came and along with that was the “shuffle.” So any song could come along at any time until there really wasn’t any order at all, no expectations for that next tune. That was okay. Ultimately Michael loaded 2502 songs on one of those 30 gig early version IPod devices with the scroll wheel which miraculously still works after too many years to count. Although I now have the contents of that IPod on an external hard drive, I don’t think I’ve ever heard all the songs on it. That shuffle just does its random thing.  The summer after Michael died I listened to it every day as I prepared exhibits for his celebration of life.

I discovered Pete Yorn, someone I’d missed during my busy mom and work years. I wound up buying his CD’s which was ironic as we’d sold Michael’s vinyl and CD collection which numbered in the thousands, only the year before. 

He’d saved a few hundred of our absolute favorites but, after listening to the Ipod, I realized that there would be hidden gems I’d discover as I moved through his collection which had burgeoned over time. I actually when to St. Louis to see Pete Yorn this past year, a posthumous gift from Michael to me.

I’ve just returned from a road trip. I’ve set a goal for myself – to see all 50 states in this  country before I die. I only had two left in the eastern portion of this vast space, Alabama and Mississippi. I can’t say I was particularly eager to go these last two as I have really negative feelings about their political persuasions, but a goal is a goal. So I took off with my sister as my companion, along with that trusty Ipod. Recently, I wrote a post about feeling like riding in a car is like zooming along in a time capsule. The only chores you have are focusing on your directions, paying attention to traffic on the road and letting yourself get lost in your mind, often having thoughts stimulated by music. At least if you’re like me. Podcasts and books are also ok, but I like to sing and I like to get carried to the places that music evokes. This trip was about 1400 miles round trip. Lots of places to explore both outside and in your interior. We stopped in the southern part of Illinois and explored part of Shawnee National Park, Garden of the Gods.

There’s no doubt that immersion in nature is soothing to the soul. We ate delicious barbecue and managed to cross both the Mississippi and Tennessee rivers on day one. In Tennessee on day two, I was fascinated to see my first cotton fields in bloom. Some cotton was picked and stored in shiny pastel bales. I had to pull over and grab a few bolls that  had blown away and were caught in the grasses and weeds along the highway. So soft and white, yet emotionally evocative as you could easily imagine slaves with sacks slung across their backs on hot days, picking and picking until their backs and feet  ached and their fingers bled.

The GPS I was using always seemed to direct me to two lane highways, many of which took us off the beaten path, through small towns where you could get a feel for how average people in the state live. Tennessee was supposed to be a pass through state. We were being instructed to make turns on side streets which required some concentration. I was turning right in one such place, when to my left I spotted one of those brown historical markers that said Shiloh National Battlefield. I braked, stopped and checked the distance from where we were and found that we were only 25 miles away.

Shiloh was a hugely significant and bloody battle that occurred in the Civil War’s western theater in 1862.  One of the most talented generals in either army, many of whom were sought by both sides as the war began, was killed at Shiloh – Albert Sidney Johnston. You may think that I’d been doing a little research to come up with this information, but the truth is, I just remembered it. From the time I was about 10 years old, I’d started reading lots of books about Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War.

I can’t specifically recall what the hook was for me, the idea that slavery was allowed and coddled in this country, the fact that fellow citizens and neighbors lined up in the heat and the cold and marched straight into each other’s withering hail of cannonballs, grapeshot and musket fire or the fact that thousands of people did that for four years. I don’t know what it was. But what started when I was a young girl stuck.

All through my life, I read book after book, and did lots of research, not for school or a career, but to try and understand what was for me, an inexplicable waste of human life, when civilized ideas and changes should have worked instead. Over the years, I was lucky enough to go to several battlefields, to feel the ghostly presence of the dead, to imagine the hellish sounds and the chaos and the impossible gore and suffering.

I’ve been to Gettysburg which was almost a religious experience as I’d read dozens of books about the battle and had a strong grasp on the topography of the battlefield. Back in 1980, Michael and I had been trying to get pregnant and my doctor suggested we take a vacation and distract ourselves from that goal. We drove out to Colorado and went to a small town called Redstone to stay in a converted lodge that used to house mine workers. We went on a horseback ride up into the mountains, where I was promptly tossed off my horse, injuring my back.

The next day, I could barely move so I sent Michael off for a hike, while I lay in our bed, reading the book “High Tide at Gettysburg.” Over the years, I continued to read and was able to travel to battlefields in Virginia, Maryland and Georgia. Many of my women friends couldn’t understand my fascination with this war which didn’t seem in keeping with my political leanings. Me neither.

But on it went, the endless fascination. I had always wanted to go to Shiloh. So instead of heading to Tupelo, Mississippi to Elvis Presley’s birthplace, we were on the battlefield. A lot of my memories of what I’d read came flooding back. The countryside is beautiful, wooded and peaceful with deer wandering through the meadows and trees, in between the many monuments and markers which described the progression of the battle. The day was warm and breezy and the atmosphere was remarkably hushed in light of what madness we knew was occuring a mere 157 years ago.

Not very much time has gone by on a relative scale. After a few hours, we left there and moved on to Tupelo where we’d resume our itinerary the next day. But I found myself a bit dazed by that visit and managed to scour the maps to look for more Civil War sites that we could squeeze into our plans. I was happy, excited and grateful that my sister was enjoying the experience as well.

But I was also puzzled. What happened to my war? This interest which had stayed with me for most of my life had gotten away from me. As we drove along, from historical site to historical site, with the redolent music playing in the background, carrying me from memory to memory, I couldn’t find the place in time where this constant preoccupation had slipped into the recesses of my mind. It wasn’t like I never thought about it. But I stopped pursuing my passion. Then I started thinking about other interests that I’ve shunted off to a corner somewhere.

I still have a long way to go in Native American studies even though, again, I’ve read quite a bit. I was an avid college basketball fan and in recent years, I’ve been completely out of that loop. I remember when Michael’s illness blotted out everything. I put all my intellectual energy into cancer, science, studying immunological drugs. Did I lose my focus back then, when my caregiving skills were in high demand by both Michael and my aging mother? I really don’t know. But as I’ve thought about this some more, I realize that I’ve perhaps set aside some valuable tools that might make coping with being a widow more palatable for me. Sometimes things just slip away without you being aware of what’s happening. I want Michael to come back which is an utter impossibility except for the curious otherworldly feelings I get sometimes. But I can get my war back. And who knows what else? I’m going to make another list of  goals. And then I’m going to hit the road again.

Where’d My War Go? Back in the old days, when  I listened to music, except for radio time, I listened to whole albums.