#wait i think there is one. OR NOT. ror well... close enough

[marsbotz]

ohhhh so basically im going to die.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

How many kid/s do you think have characters in ror or if they have any at all? like i totally see hermes as twin dad and nikola with 2 sons and daughter, idk why lol. i am interested in how many does do you think Jataka, Kojiro, Leonidas, Raiden, Kintoki, Thor, Rudra, Loki, Idra, Hermes, Hades Buddha, Beelzebub and apollo will have in your opinion, or if you think they won’t have any, ty for your time- have a lovely holiday season! 🫶

Hermes- Definitely a twin dad, one of each, whom he treats as equals and encourages them in whatever hobbies they enjoy. Is very patient with them but knows when to scold them.

Nikola- Two boys who were both very intelligent, but he never forced them to do anything they didn't want- letting them do as they wish but they know they can come to him at any time.

Kojiro- One daughter, his little pride and joy, who he doted on when she was younger but as she grew, wanting to learn how to become a warrior like her papa, he couldn't help but melt. He is a strict teacher but encourages her, helping her be strong.

Leonidas- One of each, with the son being older- who was raised to be a strong warrior, wanting to become strong enough to beat his dad in combat, something Leonidas encouraged. His daughter is also a warrior, as he wants her to be able to protect herself from those who are unworthy of her. Is a strict but very doting father.

Raiden- One son, his pride and joy, who wants to become a Yokozuna just like his dad and is willing to work hard at it. Raiden respects him in not babying him, always pushing him to go above and beyond his expectations, but at the end of the day, he will always praise his son.

Kintoki- One daughter, who is just like him, a wild child and he had to learn what his own mother figure went through, raising him. Loves teaching her new things and always encourages her to experience as much as possible in life.

Thor- One son and one daughter, his son is a warrior just like him, as he wants to be strong as well, but both are whipped by the much younger daughter, whom they both adore and dote on. Thor is more of a hands-off type of father, wanting his children to grow without hanging onto him, but he will always defend them.

Rudra- One daughter who is his little princess, he's willing to throw hands, all four of them, to keep her safe, and only wants her to be happy. Is going to be a mess when she's older and dating, is a total girl dad.

Loki- Twin boys, who love to prank their father on who is who, dressing alike and acting alike, which they also use to prank others, something Loki encourages and finds hilarious. Is proud then they pull pranks on others and on him.

Indra- One son, who looks up to Indra for his strength, wanting to be just like him. Indra makes sure not to smoke around his son, wanting him to be healthy, and will always spar with his child, as he encourages him to become stronger.

Hades- One daughter who is the most protected princess in Valhalla, he is fiercely protective of her, not wanting anything to happen to his little princess. Nobody is worthy in his eyes to date his daughter and he has no issues threatening would-be suitors.

Buddha- Laid back but very supportive of his one son, he wants his son to learn everything he can on his own, but Buddha will always be waiting for him, and will always defend him. The type of dad who would always sneak his son an extra piece of candy before dinner.

Beelzebub- One daughter whom he adores with every inch of his being, he wants her to be safe but is hesitant to get close to her, not wanting to hurt her. Showers her with love from afar so she knows that she is never without love. It takes years for him to allow himself to get closer to her.

Apollo- One son who is just like him and one daughter whom he is very protective of. His son wants to try everything and anything he can, pushing himself to excel in everything, which Apollo praises, while he showers his daughter with love, showing her how she should be treated and to not take anything less.

[tripstitan]

Risk of... Ruining? Nah, Risk of Rain

I've been banging my head against a couple of things in my novel series, and one thing that I shouldn't do, I've been doing. I've been writing linearly. It's so frustrating to try to keep my mind focused from moment to moment. Especially during writing month, but I'm trying to build up a backlog of chapters that I can post now'ish, rather than in however many months it takes me to get to the next volume, lol. Seriously, Volume Six is around 1300 pages long so far, and my outline looks like it's anywhere from 400 to 1400 more pages depending on how I handle certain arcs. I have literally dozens of chapters written for Volume Seven. Trying to force myself to write linearly degrades my quality and I have to go asking for input for things like, "What's this chapter missing?" (Then I take like... every suggestion, which bloats my chapters and they don't really feel 100% like Reggie's or my voice anymore after.) Bluh, ADHD problems I guess.

Anyway, enough of me whinin'. Games! I took abreak from writing and AI-arting, since I've been post 50k on NaNoWriMo since November 6th, to go do a chill run of the rather brand-new'ish Risk of Rain returns. Same setting, planet Petrichor V.

I could see myself doing a little fanficof my characters ending up in the pods as survivors choosable for RoR. Heh, I'd probably have to go with Book 1 versions of them, for simplicity's sake.

Hm, Reggie's primary activatable would simply be a long distance, non-piercing shot, using their Space skill to launch daggers from their inventory. Secondary skill would maybe be their buzzsaw trick, sending an item spinning out of their inventory from above, downward at an angle. Utility would be a little bit of a spoiler from Volume 2 when they realize they can use their inventory for mobility (conjuring items near them, using the velocity to strike themselves to propel them,) it'd essentially be a double jump. Their special skill would be to propel up to twelve daggers at once aimed at the nearest foes. Nothing too fancy, pretty standard, not much different than Commando, the base survivor, just flavored differently.

Teuila would play a bit like Huntress, what with her spear-based fighting style, only instead of a teleport, she'd get a ridiculous high-jump, and some gravity redux/falling damage redux.

Lil's a dragon, but if we're going Spheriform Lil, then he's more like a Koromon with a tail than much of anything else. A bursty little close range chomp attack for primary, a flamethrower secondary attack, with a more powerful flame that leaves a fire patch for a special attack. Utility I guess could be a tail-coiled spring if we're getting a little creative.

Honestly, I'm tempted to get some art of my goobers in the opening-cinematic style of Risk of Rain returns. It's gorgeous. Of course, I think my goobers are gorgeous in their natural habitat as well, but I've never nailed down a style for them (I think I'm getting close though. I've got some consistent ones that I want to practice drawing myself, but that'll have to wait til after NaNoWriMo, and some more work on my house, so that I can set up a neat little thing so that I can actually use my drawing tablet.) Anyway, my goobers natural habitat is AAoMM over on Royal Road.

[tonberry-yoda]

LAST ONE I SWEAR: Hermes with the Love at first sight thingy? You are the best thank you omg🤍✨️

Love - Hermes (f!reader)

notes - I havent been feeling 10/10 SO HERE I AM WRITING FOR MY COMFORT CHARACTER IN ROR!!! How can I not?!??!?! It got a little self inserty, BUT I DONT CARE I LOVE HIM SM HOW CAN I NOT?!?!??!?! I'm kinda obsessed with his design tee hee. I had a ton of fun writing this, so thank you for the request!! ily and i hope you have an amazing day <333

word count - 717

You were just a human. A human that was bored of life.

You sighed and spent your time studying Greek Mythology. You seemed to be very fixated on it recently. It was so interesting, the way that the gods would live. And who knew, maybe they were wonderful people. You laughed at the thought. How stupid. If a god met you, you would probably be dead.

You were especially fixated on Hermes though. He was a god that never stopped showing up in every myth you read. He was fun to read about. He was always saying something witty or just being the most reasonable god. He was the most... human, you supposed.

You only wondered if these stories you escaped with were real at all. You wished that you could meet someone like Hermes.

Walks were close enough to your escape though, especially the woods by your house. They were full and green; very fantasy-esque. You loved them. Especially getting overdressed to go on a walk. A long dress and a pair of thin flats. You would read stories to deer and bunnies that weren't too far off from you and you would sometimes just take your shoes off and stick your feet in the mud.

It was freeing. And it was all you needed.

You didn't mind going there by yourself as often as you did. It was nice.

But it was off putting when you heard a voice for the first time.

"Can I ask why we're all the way out here?" A deep, yet smooth voice said.

You quickly hid behind a rock. You weren't used to hearing anyone out here, so you were definitely scared.

"Oh, come now, my boy," a raspier voice chuckled. "I like visiting the world down here every now and again! It's not like anyone's going to be out here!"

And right as the man thought that, your dumbass stepped on a stick that made a loud ass sound. Great.

"What was that?" The raspy voice said.

"I don't know," the smoother voice said, his tone slow and soft. "Let me go check it out. Stay here."

Your heart dropped and you panicked a bit. What were you supposed to do? You spent so much time thinking that you didn't move an inch, so a head peeked out from the rock.

You and him both seemed to be in shock as your eyes went wide as you looked at each other.

You stood up from your spot and muttered something that was supposed to be an apology, but more sounded like a bundle of words. You were blushing, dammit.

The man in front of you was handsome. Super handsome. He had jet black hair and bright red eyes. He was wearing a black tuxedo and you couldn't help but stare at him.

He did the same though, without your knowing. You in your dress, god, you looked like a fairy out here.

You both must've realized that you were staring for far too long and you both blushed, looking at the ground.

"I apologize, miss," the man bowed at you and looked back up at you with a small smile. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I didn't mean to scare you." You peeked out from behind the rock and saw that an old man was admiring a butterfly.

"You're beautiful... if you don't mind me saying."

You turned back to the man with shock. "W-Well, you're very handsome."

"Well, I don't want to doddle. I apologize for the scare," he pulled up you hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon your knuckles. "I do hope you have a lovely rest of your day, though."

You were sad to feel his touch leave, sighing. "Wait!" You called off as he went to walk back to the old man.

The man turned to you, his hair blowing in the light breeze that blew over. "Yes?"

"I never caught your name."

He hesitated for a moment, but smiled. "It's Hermes."

You froze and watched him leave. Oh my god, that was like a dream.

"What was that all about?" Zeus asked Hermes.

"Oh nothing. But love is a funny thing, don't you think, Lord Zeus?"

"Aphrodite can be an awful woman."

Hermes chuckled. "I suppose she can be."

~~~~~

ror masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[thewritetofreespeech]

Imagine for RoR:

Thor seeing his wife,Y/n, coming into the infirmary,all worried about his wound and they cuddle later with Y/n on his lap

This had never happened before, so he really didn’t know how to behave.

Well, that wasn’t true. Thor had been injured before. It had just been eons since he had actually been injured, or injured enough to require medical attention. It was really all a fuss. So he decided the best thing to do was to sit calmly and be quite, as he did with most things.

“Let me in there!!”

His wife, on the other hand, did not do most things calmly or quitely.

She came into the room with a boom as loud as his thunder as she pushed the doors open and past the people trying to stop her. Horrible mistake, he thought. One should never try to stop [Y/N] when they had their mind set on something.

Her eyes set on him, and she fell quite for a moment before saying, “leave us.” in a quite tone.

A poor little nurse tried to say something back, probably a very valid rational that they weren’t done with his treatment yet, but [Y/N] just wiped around and shouted, “I said get out!” They all scurry off like scared cats after that.

Thor just sat there, continuing to be calm and quite, as he waited for his wife to say something. “How could you do this to me?” Not what he was expecting, but alright.

“I didn’t think it would go this way.”

“You didn’t think at all!” She shouted. That was the reaction he was expecting. “It never occured to you, any of you, that you could have died! What do you think would have happened to me if you died? What do you think I would do without you?!” His wife’s shouting dissolved into sobs. Clearly very emotional over his potential near death and seeing him like this. Probably not the best time to mention that, other than meeting her, it was the best moment in his life.

The God of Thunder said nothing, but lifted his non-injured arm open to her. She sniffled, but quickly came over and tucked into his lap against his bandaged chest. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Kissing her hair. Taking in the smell of flowers over the sterlie scent of the medical ward. “I promise not to do it again.”

“You better not.” She ‘warned’ while holding him close.

The nurses don’t dare come in until they absolutely have to. To bandage up the next fighter as Ragnarok continued.

[artzee-bee]

Popularity is overrated anyways | Rory Keaner x gn!popular!reader

Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire

Request: “ Hello! Your writing is so amazing, truly! Could you write Rory x Gn!Popular!Reader in which the reader falls hard and so they try flirting and try to impress him? I think that would be an interesting dynamic to explore cause I usually see things going the other way around. No need to take this request if you don't want to write it of course! Have a great day/night<33 “

Pronouns: none specified

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

~~~

The first time you saw Rory was in art class. It was your first day and you were somewhat nervous, but he walked in as if he owned the place. He yelled "Good morning gays, gals and pals" with this kind hearted smile and you couldn't help but laugh at how comfortable he was around here. How he seemed to be at home. 

At the end of class, you decided to walk up to him, say hello. At the very least learn his name, except by the time you were done packing your things, he was gone. You felt a little lost looking at the empty seat he sat in just a moment ago but you were already dead set on getting to know the blonde kid better.

Since then, you've made lots of friends, partly due to you joining the photography club, which was pretty well known around the school. You were also best friends with the star of the football team which sure gave you a big boost on the popularity chart, not that you cared. Even with your newfound attention, you still felt like you were a little behind Rory. You'd see him every week in art class, always cracking a joke, making you and everyone else around him laugh. You often saw him hanging out with the same 2 brown haired boys and you couldn't help the jealousy you were feeling, so eventually you decided you've had enough. You were going to get closer to Rory!

The perfect opportunity snuck up on you one Friday, when you saw Rory eating lunch in the cafeteria alone. You excused yourself from your friends, making your way instead towards the blonde

"Is this seat open?" you said motioning to the seat right in front of him

"Yeah!" he replied with a bright smile, as if he was more than excited that you wanted to sit with him "I'm Rory!"

You sat down and gave him your name in return. From where you were sitting, you could see your friends.They were sitting around their usual table, glaring at you as if they couldn't understand what you could possibly be doing there, instead of by them. In fact, mostly everyone in the cafeteria was now watching you and Rory with judging looks. You knew Rory wasn't the most popular person in school, but you also didn't care. For what it's worth, he seemed to be a lot cooler than any other "popular" kid you knew.

"Is that a V for Vendetta pin on your shirt?" he asked, reaching over to touch the little handmade pin you had. You felt his fingertips press into your collarbone and sucked in a deep breath, suddenly shy at the unexpected contact

"Yeah! I made it myself out of an old coin a while back!"

"That's so cool! I used to make pins out of beer bottle caps when I was little! I didn't actually drink the beer, I would sneak the caps from my parents at family events!"  you giggled. You barely knew the boy and yet this seemed like such a ‘him’ thing to do

"And how did you make them?"

For the entire lunch break, you sat next to Rory, listening to him talk about his pins and his favorite comic books, which just so happened to match a lot of your favorites. You were more than excited by finding out that you had a lot in common. You liked the same bands and the same movies. He was full of stories about the supernatural and you have always been passionate about that kind of stuff.  

You always knew you kinda fancied the blonde boy and you weren’t ashamed of that, but now, actually being with him, talking to him, connecting with him, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach was almost insufferable.His mere presence was making you dizzy. He was so cute and his smile was worth millions. You loved listening to him talk and seeing his bright eyes sparkle with joy, but than the bell rang and you had to leave for your next class

"I had fun talking to you Rory!”

"Thank you, you're really cool, we should hang out more!" he said, making you blush

From that point on, you and Rory were much closer. You would hang out during school hours usually, which bummed you out, since you really saw Rory as more than a ‘convenience’ friend that you got along with simply because you saw each other almost everyday. You wished you could get closer to him, get to know him more intimately, but you didn’t want to push him into anything. The week after your first real interaction, Rory came to sit next to you in art. You were too engulfed in the video you were watching on your phone to notice when he walked in, but he made sure to make his presence known by wrapping his arms around you from behind

"Hi friend!" he said in a sing-song voice that made you giggle. He dragged his chair as close to you as he could, so you 2 could whisper to each other during class. Now, being so close to him, you could hear each of his sarcastic jokes and clueless questions better, each one making you laugh and smile. At times, he would lean into you to whisper something in your ear and you could feel his breath on your skin, sending shivers through your entire body.

One thing you learned about Rory during art class was just how competitive he was. Each class turned into a game of seeing who was the better artist. You weren't a huge fan of drawing, but you gave it your everything knowing that Rory was going to study your picture. He never said anything bad about it, he was too nice for that, but with each drawing you tried to impress him more and more.

Eventually, one day, you noticed Rory heading out of the school and decided to quickly followed him out

"Hey Rors! Wait up!!"

"Hey Y/N, wazzap?" he said in the funny voice he always made, making you smile

"All is good. I just had a question for you"

"Ok, shoot!"

"Are you free Saturday?" the boy looked at you with a confused smile

"I think so, yes. Why?"

"Would you like to go to the movies with me?"

"Yeah! That sounds awesome!! Who's coming?" his eyes were bright with excitement, only making you more nervous

"I mean...I was thinking it could be just the 2 of us..."

"Just us?"

"Yeah, you know. Like a date..."

"A date?"

"Yeah"

"With me?"

"I mean if you want to, I'm not..."

"I would love to!" he smiled

"You-You would?"

"Yeah, sounds awesome!"

"Ok, um, great! Can I get your number so I can text you the details?"

On your way home, you held the little piece of paper with Rory's number in your closed fist, your face hot from excitement and happiness. God, you could barely wait for Saturday!

[reincarnated70sbaby]

linger

listen before you read!

robert plant xfem!oc

warnings : drug use, swearing, trucklot of angst ;)

word count : 2.1k

an: was listening to ‘linger’ by the cranberries and I couldn’t pass up this angsty idea I got 😎 timeline is off but yolo ig...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sloane leaned down to the table to take an extra line for her pre-performance nerves. She felt a little more nervous today, this particular concert being one of the largest yet. She was the front woman of The CAPs, who were opening for Led Zeppelin for their summer of ‘69 tour. This was exactly the break the band needed, finally getting recognition for all their talent and hard work over the last two years.

She applied a little powder to her face, and patted on her classic red lipstick to her slightly chapped lips. Securing the clasps of her platform red heels, she shook her body in hopes of shaking away her anxious jitters. Once she had finished her body-shaking ritual, she walked out from the wings of the stage.

As she walked across to centre stage, wind blowing through the holes of her white crochet dress. The crowd cheered loudly as the band waved to them.

“How’s everyone doin’ today? It’s so hot today, my boobs are sweating off!” She greeted the crowd with her bubbly nature. Adjusting the mic stand to her height, she continued to address the huge crowd. “Today’s set list will have a slight adjustment to it, we’re starting off with a new song I wrote just last night. It’s a little softer than our other music, so just sit back- or should I say lean back on the person behind you - and relax. This is called ‘Linger’ "

While she was speaking to the crowd, a teenage roadie ran onto the stage and placed a stool, for Sloane to sit on, and disappeared again in a heartbeat. The crowd, didn’t even take notice of the young boy, entranced with the tawny blonde singer as usual.

Sloane sat down, crossed her legs and nodded toward Rory, to begin. Rory started picking a simple guitar melody on his trusty Gibson acoustic, the first guitar he ever picked up. Sloane swayed lightly to the rhythm, eyes on the horizon above the crowd. Soon after, Marshall joined in with quiet, but strong beat on drums. At the same time, Oscar added the baseline to the song.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane began the song.

If you, If you could return, Don’t let it burn, Don’t let it fade, I’m sure I’m not being rude, It’s just your attitude, It’s tearing me apart, It’s ruining every day

I swore, I swore I would be true, But honey so did you, So why were you holding her hand? Is that the way we stand? We’re you lying all the time? Was it just a game to you?

Sloane sang gently, her eyes closed with a pained look on her face. She thought back to the day before, when everything fell apart.

———

“Sloane, honey, please tell me what’s wrong! You’re being so closed off with me today!” Robert pleaded, grabbing her hand while she was walking away. Sloane yanked her hand away and walked towards an empty storeroom in the hotel corridor.

“Don’t get any ideas, we need to talk privately” Sloane commanded as she entered into the storeroom. It had barely enough space for both of them to fit, being crammed full with towels and bedsheets.

“Please, love, jus’ tell me what’s bothering you, I wanna make you happy”

“Oh fuck off Robert, you’re so fake and a liar. These past couple of months have all been a lie!”

“What’re talkin’ about? I have never lied to you once”

“Seriously? ‘I’ve never lied to you���? Are you actually for real right now? Do you know what I just found out Robert? You’re fucking married! And she’s coming here tonight! You didn’t think I would deserve to know that!” She yelled, ignoring her previous statement about keeping this private.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared okay? I have never felt like this before with anyone else. All the groupies were just for sex, but when I met you I had fallen for you Slo, you make me a better person in every way”

“I don’t care how I make you feel, you’re still married! With kids! How would they feel if they found out their father was in a relationship with a woman other than their mother? I can’t believe you did this to me willingly, even after I told you what happened with my parents. That messed me up, seeing my father with another woman, and leaving my mother for her. Never seeing him again, choosing his new family over me and my siblings. That hurts me the most Robert, you knew my history and you ignored it!” Sloane cried out, tears falling freely on her face, running her dark eye makeup.

“I never meant to hurt you love, you mean so much to me. I just didn’t think- I never fuckin think, but I my feelings were so strong for you, I never thought about Maureen, I’m shamed to admit it” Robert plead, guilt weighing on his conscience. He reached out to wipe her tears away, but Sloane turned her head, the same pained look on her face.

“We’re done. I can’t stay with someone who could forget about their own wife and kids, and forget to tell their girlfriend that she’s actually a mistress. Goodbye” Sloane said, pushing her way out of the cramped closet, before running to the elevator at the end of the hall.

———

But I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you, You got me wrapped around your finger, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Sloane sang emotionally, a single tear escaped her tear duct. She took the break for guitar solo to take a couple deep breathes, and to calm her heightened emotions down.

Oh, I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, But I was wrong, I was wrong

If you, if you could get by, Trying not to lie, Things wouldn’t be so confused, And I wouldn’t feel so used, But you always knew, I just want to be with you

———

Sloane sat at the large round table, sipping her wine. The two bands had just completed all the concerts in France, and were having a celebratory dinner for the night. The lights were dim in the fancy restaurant, but Sloane could still see the heartbreaking sight of Maureen and Robert cozying up to eachother. She longed to be the one Robert was dedicated to, to be his Maureen, to be the one who sipped on his beer instead of her wine for a change, to rest her hand on his knee. She wished to be the one who would sleep with him in bed each night, without a worry of cheating or unfaithfulness. Her heart was also broken for Maureen, she was so inlove with Robert, as was he with her. She was also probably the greatest mother out there, being a single parent for a lot of the year.

Sloane switched her focus from the smitten couple, to Marshall and John Bonham's discussion on gongs, congas and all exotic drums.

Everything had been going so well, the concerts each night going to wonderfully, the bands got on great together. Even all the touring crew and management got on well with eachother. It was like one, big, slightly dysfunctional family.

Sloane wished she could vent to one of her bandmates about her case of ill fated love, but she knew if she told any of the CAP boys, tension would arise between the bands, and she simply couldn't bear to break the harmony.

“I’m sorry everyone, but I feel a bit ill and I think it would be best if I went to my room” Sloane announced, rising from her chair. She briefly locked eyes with Robert, before averting her eyes that threatened to fill with tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay Slo? I can come up and look after you if you feel faint or anything?” Rory asked genuinely, concerned for his little sister, he noticed she had been a little less bubbly than normal today.

“I’m fine Ror, I’ll think being on the go and travelling for the last couple of months has caught up with me. I’ll call you if I need you. Love you” she said, hugging him tightly.

“Love you, stay safe sis”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as she left the table and walked out of the brassiere restaurant.

As soon as she entered her large room, she decided to clean up her stuff in order to distract herself. She folded all her clothes, tucked all her shoes into her suitcase, and cleaned up her makeup station on the vanity, placing the assortment of beauty products in the black makeup bag she owned.

After she was done cleaning, she ordered a couple bottles of wine, with some croissant from room service, taking advantage of the readily available French delicacies.

Lowering herself into the warm bubble bath she ran while waiting for her room service, her mind wandered to the whole situation, creating lyrics in her head. Luckily she brought her songbook, so there was no need to get out of the bath in search for it. She poured her heart out into the lyrics. After finishing the lyrics up, she soaked for a little longer, until she felt herself pruning and wrapped the fuzzy bath robe around herself.

She was about to turn off her bedside light to sleep, when she heard a light knock on the door. Her head scrambled, trying to figuring out who it was. Must be Rory checking up on me she thought. Opening the door, her heart skipped a beat at the visitor.

“Sloane let me-“

“Robert, please, I told you we were over”

“Will you let me speak, I need to talk to you”

Sloane stepped aside from the door, letting him in. She guided him to the seating area of the room, not wanting to risk being near the bed.

“Uh, d’want tea or something?” Sloane asked the blonde man, the air heavy with awkward tension.

“Yeah sure, love. That’d be great” Robert answered warmly.

“So, what do you want to say” Sloane asked, pushing his tea on front of him.

“Sloane, I’m sorry. I still do love you and I hate that I fucked everything up. I was just so infatuated- I still am, and I regret that I made you feel upset. I just want to say sorry”

“I- I still love you too Robert, it wasn’t just one sided, I really thought you were the one”

“Sloane, I don’t know what to say… If- if you ask me to, I will. I want you. I want to be yours.”

“Robert- I. I can’t do that. As much as I want to love you and be with you, I can’t be a homewrecker. I’ve seen the way you are with Maureen, you love her. I know in my gut that you’re better off with her. She loves you and deserves you 100%” Sloane’s face was wet with tears.

“Uh, okay. I’m sorry love, I really wish I didn’t fuck up our relationship. I really hope that one day we can be friends again, when you’re ready” Robert got up to leave, but was stopped when Sloane grabbed his hand.

“There’s a part of me that will always love you Robert. This was wonderful while it lasted” She spoke with a sad smile on her face.

Robert squeezed her hand in agreement, before exiting the room.

———

And I’m in so deep, You know I’m such a fool for you You got me wrapped around your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to? Do you have to let it linger?

Oh I’m in so deep, You know I still have love for you, My love has wrapped me round your finger, oh, Do you have to let it linger? Do you have? Do you have to let it linger?

The CAPs finished their song, and Sloane stood up to thank the crowd.

“Robert, darling, there you are. Was that singer at the dinner last night?” Maureen asked warmly to her husband, joining him in the wings.

“Uh, yeah, but she left early because of travel sickness y’know the sort” Robert answered absentmindedly, his deep blue eyes trained on the lead singer, who was preparing for the next song in the band’s set list.

“I must have missed her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she? I love that song she just sang, great voice” Maureen mused, admiring Sloane’s confidence , akin to her husbands.

“Yeah, yeah she is. She’s a beautiful person, inside and out”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

my first Robert fic!!! I’m more of a Jimmy girl, but I love the golden god too (Leo men <3)

as always, any criticism/ideas are welcome in my inbox or comments 🤍

tag list : @dreamersdrowse @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @princesspagey ask me if you would like to be added!!

[shkspr]

was 165 in iambic pentameter? i had to put like Actual Effort into hearing the words he was saying cause the rhythm was so Like That (and i mean that in the best way possible! i LOVE episodes like this one!) but i'm not sure if it was because it was iambic pentameter or no

it isn’t in iambic pentameter as such. it has a lot of iambic rhythm, but it isn’t divided into lines of five iambs at a time, not like a sonnet. i suppose you could break it down like that, if you tried, but it’s easier to chop it up in larger chunks bc of the way jonny wrote it: it’s very twisting, winding, flowing kind of things, not so much like short bite-sized phrases. so you can see below, it’s actually a lot a lot a lot of iambic meter (italics), a bit of trochaic meter (bold), some extra ending syllables (parentheses), and a few fun instances of dactylic and choriambic meter (brackets). 

Your face is not your face is not your face around the curling carousel it twists in place to take from you and all the tattered stolen souls  whose sense of me is swollen and distended into no(thing).

Round and round and round it goes and (when) it deigns to stop who you might be you cannot know, so touch and feel the skin atop your skull to test the limits and extremities of where this canvas comes to rest, in robbed identity and peeling names that you could swear were never yours.

The music swells through you. The music vomits from you. The music calls a name that through the tears of half-grasped memories seems almost and eternally familiar.

So dance. [Dance to the / beat of the / thump of the / chase of the / still] and plastic horse hooves which cannot break from where they are secured by bolts and glue and eggshell-thin reality that paints a visage of sense almost enough to tell you that the nausea that swells and pushes at the limits of your mind is incorrect.

There’s nothing wrong.

The world in which the carousel will twirl is not the hollow hell you fear; it is the world. Just the world. A world where if you’d wished to have a name it must be stolen, carved and pulled full-bloody from the frame of others who had wished in vain to hold their selfness close.

You want a face? Take it. There are so many here, and those who cannot hold them, well, whoever chose to give them such a gift must take the blame, knowing they could never keep it in a world of so much thieving strangeness.

And soon enough they will forget they ever even had one, rest assured; it’s best to step the dance and keep your face  secured as much as you are ab(le). 

Just. Keep. Running.

Your feet- or are they just the shoes with emptiness within?- will pound upon the creaking wood of carousel-top, or perhaps the only ground there’s ever (been), so struggle not to look behind - though can you trust your eyes to tell you quite what it might be that dogs your steps and see the poor procession of those gory, faceless wretches who have lost possession now of all their treasured wants, identities to those who are now them?

Like you.

You tire of the chase, of course, the fire and all-relentless pace of competition reaching for  a name, identity, and face that has long since worn through all reserves of hard, enduring vigor in you. Yet still you only stay a self while willing on your aching legs that feel like breaking just to keep you forward of the frenzied fray of hazy clawed who-are-(yous).

So run. Just run, and listen to the music of your panicked flight from those who long to take what you have stole from those no longer worth a name.

Ever-onwards-forward on the curling (path) of [merry-go-round] that’s twisted, wound, and spinning in its [harrowing sound] of organ-piping-circus-tunes that [merrily hound] the steps of your escape.

Could you turn a thought and burn your lead on your pursuers, an ankle change a charge now perpendicular to your intended line of best retreat, and stake it all on one last hope, your bruised feet pounding to the edge?

The boundary. Don’t stop the ride, but you still want to get off.

But no, for all the dreams of bounding, leaping off into the great unknown, you see the ring of broken mewling wretches who have shown the sting that comes with such rejection of the truth, so seldom spoken yet inside you all- that there is no way off the merry-go-round.

And so perhaps the twirling round that pushes all who passenger the carousel might help you stay ahead, and so you seize the rough and peeling pole of ancient wooden horse, ignore the sloughing, screaming wood that comes away in clumps, and grip the saddle hard, in hands that should be clean but now have never seen a day they were not caked in glue and slaked with blood of all the robberies existence deems the only way to live.

Ride away. Just ride away.

Up it goes. Down it comes.

Hold [fast to the joy of the rise], despise all thoughts you might descend. And in the end, protest against that fall back down to painted wooden spinning earth, with all the tear-streaked grasping of the mass of gasping, still unnamed oppressed.

Cry to the horse, Go higher! Faster, offer painted apples that you think perhaps it might desire, but the frozen face is still the same, the simple cast of equine terror, framed and caught in wood and plastic bulging eyes of fear.

Its pace remaining as it ever was; it does not care for coming pains as you are torn.

Doesn’t it know who you are? No.

And soon, neither will you. Although to call it “all is lost” is more dramatic, yes, than has been earned. For those upon this carousel who have not been you already, perhaps they know without a memory how good it is to have a face and name.

It’s not the same as what you had when first you climbed the brightly painted stairs, but not the worst who you have been. And as the horse drops through the air into the crowd of eager, waiting thieves you are unbowed and, yes, afraid, but still the music plays, and turns the world upon its gaudy ax(is).

You will be someone again, someday.

The hands and fingers reach and breach the gentle veiled complacency and respite that had just been yours upon your mount’s ascent, and now the wood is bent and bowed as faceless things who long to be a who pull splinters from the rot of screaming saddle and of rid(er).

You, who feels the mask of sharp and (hard) identity begin its gentle fracture into jagged shards of names that you once were.

I’m still Hannah! you try to scream, but are you? No. Perhaps there’s some Veronica as fragments there, or Julian, or Anya, but- no. You feel the last of names and who you might have been be torn away and borne towards new bod(ies). New pages, blank, determined to be peop(le).

The rotten, ragged rush of fetid fingernails that dig and push and reach around the edges of your face until they scrape against the bone in such a rough, scratched tone, that rocks and echoes through the space that was your mind, and when they peel it from you, like [the skin of an orange, the skin of an apple, the skin of a pig, the skin of a child, the skin of a you], then comes the briefest flash that surely now it’s done, so much perhaps the pain will be somewhat lessened.

There’s no way it could hurt as much as you rememb(er).

But it does, and so, of course, you (scream) and scream and curses foul, obscene will tumble garbled over where there once sat other people’s lips or yours now gone and teeth that once shone yellowed ivory a crimson in the flowing sanguine flood.

And as you lie in agonies and fading dreams of personhood, of knowing who you were and what that might have meant, you hear the bitter whispers of recriminating seekers who have found the treasure of their eager dreams, but see, it seems there’s not enough for all.

And so they fall to frantic ter(ror) and conflict, just as vicious as it was when it was bearing down on you. You lie there in the fugue of vivid pain and feel that gentle rain from violence overhead; some fall dead, or close as this place lets you (lie), for- truly thus to die would be too eager an escape, and listen to the ebb and swell of slow, melodic wail that well you know conducts the flowing rhythm laced into this endless, faceless dance.

At last, a victor breaks away in clinging heartfelt terror of his former comrades, sprinting bold and holding to his skull the severed face that was once yours. Willing it to stick as those who notice try to pick themselves back up and give pursuit to close the gap.

Perhaps you should arise and follow on the things that once you had despised but now have joined. You are, of course, a faceless thing as well, and so should quickly match the pace of those who chase the self-same prey.

But now it is too late; they’ve gone. Their chase will not abate until their former friend is ripped apart in turn. And you have learned to wait.

For there are many faces out upon the carousel, and many names that you might be. So bide your time a while and wait the coming of another one whose fate and face might sit upon your grinning carmine skull.

[So turn with the turn of the merry-go-round and dance to its jolly old song. Who will you be, with a name or three, and a stranger’s face worn wrong?]

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

KISS v. Phantom

PART EIGHTEEN OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: major discussion of parent death, general angst but some fluff, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: College decisions are released, and Ella gets another chance to practice her spontaneity. 

Awakening on the Gilmore couch, Ella squeezed her eyes tightly shut against the morning light. Of course Dean had chosen to break up with Rory the first day of spring break, upon hearing about her acceptance to Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. After her shift, Ella had rushed over and been a shoulder for Rory to cry on, along with Lane. Buckets of cookie dough ice cream sat empty on the coffee table, tissues strewn around, and Ella’s makeup had been smeared around her face in her sleep. She was alone. At some point, Rory had gone to bed, she supposed, and Lorelai would be upstairs. Glancing down at her watch, she swore under her breath. It was half past eight; she was meant to be at the diner thirty minutes earlier.

Slapping lightly at her own cheeks, she spread her eyes wide. Taking in a deep breath, she hoisted herself up off the couch and tugged on her shoes, then grabbed her bag by the door. She almost forgot to say goodbye, her hand on the doorknob, before she ran back through the kitchen and into Rory’s bedroom. Rory’s back was to the door, asleep on her side. Ella placed a hand on her shoulder and shook slightly.

“Hey, Ror? I gotta go to work. See you later when you get your coffee, alright?” Ella whispered, watching Rory stir.

Rory grunted some sort of sleepy response.

Smirking, Ella ran back out the door and left the house. The late March morning was dewy and almost too fresh as she raced across town. Her boots were nearly slipping off her feet, her hair flying loose behind her. As she passed the gazebo, she ran nearly straight into Kirk, who had recently taken over as mailman. The most inconvenient time of the century, he’d ended up mixing up several peoples’ college acceptance (or rejection) letters. Though she knew she was late for work, she couldn’t help the slightly sick excitement in her stomach.

“Kirk!” she shouted as he tried to pass her. “Could you give me my mail, please?”

He faced her with a stony expression. “How many times do we have to go over this, Ella? I’m not permitted to give you your mail unless we’re standing on the address property.”

Crossing her arms, she looked down at her shoes and shook her head. Breathing out a frustrated sigh, she put a polite smile on her face. “Kirk, please. Just this once. Please do me this favor.”

Kirk blinked at her, unrelenting.

“Four rhubarb pies,” she wagered, narrowing her eyes at him.

He was silent for a moment, looking like one of the Village People in his mailman getup. She wondered how many of his clothes were regular and how many were various uniforms. “Six pies. By next weekend.”

“Deal,” she smiled, putting a hand out for him to shake.

He shook back, then shuffled through the many envelopes in his huge satchel. Fighting the urge to tap her foot, she watched him for what felt like an eternity. A throb was just beginning to form behind her eyes when he finally pulled out an envelope. A grin came to her face as she saw the return address.

“Thank you!” she chirped, immediately off again in the direction of the diner.

“Six rhubarb pies by next Saturday!” Kirk yelled after her, then went on ambling through town.

She felt a bit like Charlie with his golden ticket, despite having no idea what the content of the envelope would entail. It was the difference between a two-year degree and a four-year degree, community college and a public university. She didn’t really care much either way, but Southern Connecticut State was her top choice. Realistically, she wasn’t excited for the results, she was only excited for the suspense to end. Her dimples shone on her freckled cheeks as she made it through the front door of the diner, the bell above jingling happily. The diner was relatively packed, and she was reminded again how late she was. Luke’s face was stony and gruff, and Jess smirked over at her.

“Rough morning, Stevens?” he asked, taking in her smudged mascara and wild hair.

Ella rolled her eyes playfully and came around the counter after hanging her belongings, the envelope in one fist. But she had trouble getting out all the information between breathless panting. “I got the letter!”

“Southern Connecticut State?” Jess asked, eyebrows raising and smile turning genuine.

Swallowing dryly, she nodded, holding it up for him to see.

“You didn’t open it yet?” he asked in surprise.

“Been a busy morning, jackass,” she said, shaking her head at herself. As she prepared to rip it open, Luke came over from the register and cut the moment short.

“What time were you supposed to be here, Ella? The same time for the last three years? Is it eight-thirty?” he said, voice laced with anger and sarcasm. “Oh, right, it’s eight o’clock. Every single Saturday for the past three years!”

Face falling, Ella nodded along. “Luke, I’m sorry. I had to chase Kirk down for my Southern Connecticut State letter. And I spent all night with Rory. Dean broke up with her after she got into Harvard and-”

“What?” Luke interrupted. “The bag boy broke up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Yesterday, but-”

Before she could even finish the sentence, Luke was calling back an order to Caesar for chocolate chip pancakes, breathing huffy and frustrated. He rambled on about how much he hated Dean, how he would never be allowed back in the diner, and other such dramatic threats. Watching with brows furrowed, Jess and Ella eventually locked eyes again.

“Should I wait for him to calm down?” she asked Jess, looking back down at the envelope.

Jess shook his head. “Could take years. I’d go for it if I were you.”

“I don’t think you could handle being me.”

“You opening it or not?”

Nodding slowly, she took in a deep breath and ripped it open. She took out the crisp sheet of white paper, text in dark ink and signed at the bottom, her heart in her throat.

Ella began reading aloud, Jess standing across from her expectantly. The other patrons in the diner were more or less completely enraptured by Luke’s tantrum.

“Dear Miss Stevens, I am pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance-”

“You did it! You’re in!” Jess cut her off, gesturing excitedly as he spoke. It was odd to see him so earnest in his emotion, especially standing behind the counter at the diner.

A slow smile spread on her lips, as she stared almost blankly at the words before her. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Eventually, she folded the letter back up and looked up at him. He had to stop himself from tilting his head at the expression on her face, almost false in its happiness. The smile didn’t reach her hazel eyes.

“Congrats, Stevens,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She didn’t even blush like she normally would, instead only wrapping her arms around his neck. After holding him in a tight embrace for a moment, she cleared her throat and pulled away, an artificial smile still present.

“Thanks,” she said, putting all the contents back into the envelope and sighing softly, all at once acutely aware of the environment around her. “I guess I should get to work.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, confusion painting his face. Before she went to put the letter back in her bag, he brought a gentle hand to her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I always am.”

.   .   .

A long day of comforting Rory, serving coffee, and dealing with the flurry of townie activity brought Ella to the bridge. She held a copy of Little Women in her lap, the book she’d read probably hundreds of times before. Eyes roaming over the words, she could practically hear her mother’s voice. Soft and sweet, and always passive. Her voice always made Ella feel so simply safe. She could smell the Pond’s Cold Cream her mother had once worn. Crickets sang around her, spring finally having sprung. The air was cool but humid, charged with the possibility of rain.

Sat trying to read, she couldn’t help the tears that spotted the pages. She’d tried going home after her shift, but felt too antsy inside her own tiny room. Knowing she’d be bound to live there for at least a couple more years. And she took the book from the top drawer of her dresser, telling Fiona nothing more than that she was going out, and she wouldn’t be back for dinner. The moon had risen between the clouds. A pit of dread had been sitting in her stomach almost all day, since she’d opened the letter. For just a moment, she had been happy, relieved to have gotten into her top choice, but then the reality hit. It was real. College. Living at home. She wiped at her cheeks, sniffling. So much work, and she still felt so far away from anything resembling her goals. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, the tears blurred her vision. Blowing out a shaky breath, she turned the page.

“Hey, Daria,” she heard to her left. Startling, she snapped the book shut and blinked quickly. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears which had spilled over once again.

“James Dean,” she sighed, not having to look over to recognize him. “Sneaking up on people, again, huh?”

Shrugging off the bite in her voice, he came to sit down next to her, close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other. Luckily, she didn’t flinch away from his touch as he’d been half-expecting her to. Clearing her throat, she swallowed down her flush and hoped he couldn’t see the shine in her hazel eyes.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he drawled, looking over the lake. “You seemed quiet today. And you rushed out right after your shift. Are you feeling okay?”

Uttering a bitter scoff, Ella let a smirk cross her face. “Yeah. I’m great. I’m going to Southern Connecticut State, after all.”

“Yes. You are,” he said flatly, wondering what could be bothering her. “And?”

“I don’t wanna talk, Jess,” she snapped, shaking her head at herself. More tears welled up in her eyes, and she looked away from him, tossing her book to the side in slight anger.

“Okay,” he nodded. And he sat beside her, saying nothing, listening to the sounds of nighttime and watching the lake.

Then, after a long silence, Ella glanced over at the book, back at the water: “My mom used to read Little Women to me. Before bed. And then I read it over and over. Even before she died, I was just always...I was always reading it. I don’t know why.”

Jess wasn’t lost on the shakiness in her voice. “Huh.”

“Yeah. And she…” she paused to sigh, shaking her head again. She stared down at her lap, wringing her hands together anxiously. “She lived here her whole life. She was a great mom and everything but...she would just lie down and take it. Anything. Life would come at her and s-she was...sweet and kind...but she just never…”

“Bit back?” Jess ventured quietly, watching at the way her face contorted in the moonlight. He could see her fighting back the sobs, silent tears falling down her face in streaks.

Ella nodded sadly. “Exactly. I love her so much. But I don’t wanna be her. I don’t wanna be stuck here my whole life.”

“You won’t be, Eleanor,” he said, starting to understand, trying to catch her gaze. She simply refused to make eye contact with him.

She gave a humorless chuckle. “That’s what Lorelai said. But no one really knows anything, do they? I think they’re just lucky. Lorelai and Rory. And I’m not Rory. I’ll never be Rory.”

“What do you mean?” he chimed in, running a hand up and down her back, remembering how her touch had felt the night he cut his hand.

“They think things can work out,” she continued. “I mean...fuck. Rory got into Harvard and Princeton and Yale. And her grandparents are basically a bottomless pit of money. She could have anything she wants. And instead she spends the whole day crying over her dumbass boyfriend. And everyone just drops everything to make her feel better.”

Brows knitted together, he nodded slightly. Jess thought back to the morning, Luke’s tirade about Dean while Ella held her future between her fingers.

She spoke through gritted teeth as angry tears kept rolling down her face. “And I hate being jealous of her. I mean...she’s one of my best friends. And I don’t mean she doesn’t have problems. I don’t want a pity party. Of course she has problems! I mean...her dad wasn't in her life for so long. But...he came back, y’know? He came back for her. And everyone in this town loves her. Sometimes, it’s like she lives in a different world. Where everything gets fixed with coffee and sugar and her grandparents’ money.”

Speaking with her hands, she tilted her head and looked up at the sky. Maybe in an effort to dry her eyes against the breeze. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice wouldn’t sound so wobbly. Embarrassment burned in her stomach, but she couldn’t help as the words poured straight from her mind to her mouth.

“And she gets to go wherever she wants. She gets everything she wants. And she gets Lorelai. She gets a mom who she’s best friends with, who would never leave her. And my mom…”

“She didn’t wanna leave you,” Jess said firmly.

Heaving a big sigh, she swallowed thickly. “She didn’t want to. But she did. She was...um...born with this heart thing? And one night it just...got her. I went to bed one night with a mom and I woke up without one. Just like that.”

“Jesus,” he muttered. Though his family wasn’t exactly a greeting card situation, he couldn’t imagine losing his whole world forever, literally overnight.

“Yeah,” she sighed, voice exhausted. “And I didn’t cry at the funeral, but sometimes alone...I’ll get upset about it and I’ll think: ‘Okay, this is the last time. Just be sad about it one more time and your heart won’t be broken anymore. This is the last time.’ But it never is. It always comes back. I think I’ll always...have a piece missing, I guess. And today...it just came back. Because everyone was there for Rory about Harvard and Yale and Dean. Lorelai stayed up almost all night with us last night. And I haven’t talked to my mom since I was fourteen. I’ll never talk to her again.

“And now...my dad can’t even look at me. Not exactly like he was such an involved father before. But every time he looks at me, all he can see is her. I just...I just look so much like her. It’s not like I could blame him. I wouldn’t wanna have a doppelganger of my dead wife living in my house either.”

“Well, you didn’t ask for a Freaky Friday situation,” he said.

It earned him a small giggle, and he flashed her a tiny smile.

“It’s not your fault, Eleanor.”

“I know,” she nodded, then took in a big breath. “Fuck. And here I said I didn’t wanna talk. I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to tell you all that. And I know everyone has problems. I’m not special or anything. Lots of people have dead parents. But..no one talks about it. Not in Stars Hollow. Everything just needs to be happy here, but everything reminds me of her. No one...no one ever talks about her. I’m sorry, Jess, I don’t mean to-”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry over,” he told her, shaking his head.

She chuckled weakly, wiping at her nose. “And I hate crying.”

“I know.”

“Especially in front of people.”

“I know,” he repeated softly, finally locking eyes with her. His mouth was set in a thin line. All the things he wanted to say were stuck in his throat. Instead, he only listened. She needed to talk about it. She needed someone who wouldn’t brush it off, who wouldn’t get uncomfortable. Who would just hear her.

“But I just can’t stop crying,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

She put her hands over her face in shame and guilt, weeping quietly. Each time she got upset about her mother, she reminded herself of how much worse it could be. From what little she knew, she could gather Jess had never even met his father. She couldn’t blame Jess if he just walked away, or yelled at her for taking what she had for granted. At least she had two parents for as long as she did. It was a vicious cycle in her head, making her dizzy.

Jess felt his heart do a twist as she crumpled, and acted only on instinct. He enveloped her in his arms and her head went to his shoulder, wetting his jacket. Rubbing circles over her back, Jess held her against the chilly wind.

“You wanna push me in the lake?” he asked, breaking the silence. “It’s cathartic, I hear. Might make you feel better.”

Ella uttered a watery laugh. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

.   .   .

Blondie blasted through her speakers, and she huffed at herself as she tried to finish her makeup. She was having trouble making her eyeliner work, eventually deciding to just smudge it out, falling back on grunge as she usually did. Getting up to grab her boots, she gasped audibly when she heard a knock on the window. Rationally, she knew it was Jess. Who else regularly climbed through her window? But, still, in the back of her mind, she worried about hypothetical murderers. Occasional viewings of Dateline did nothing to subdue her mistrust of the world at large. Taking a boot in her hand by the laces, she walked over, ready to fend off a potential assailant. Her shoulders relaxed when she pushed the curtains back and Jess stood out in the gloomy morning with a smug smirk.

The window screeched as she opened it, and she leaned out with a grin. “Did Luke send you to avoid a do-over of yesterday? Because, by my clock, I’m not late for another forty-five minutes.”

Jess shook his head. “Good guess, but no. Are you, by any chance, still practicing your spontaneity?”

She furrowed her brows. “Occasionally. But, today, diner duty calls.”

“Actually, I got us both the day off.”

“What?” she asked, chuckling through her words. “Fuck off.”

“So eloquent, Daria. But I’m serious. We’re on spring break, so I switched with Guillermo for Tuesday.”

“Right, but hate to break it to you, I’m the other half of this duo. And I’m Luke’s favorite waitress, as we know. It’s my natural charm, of course,” she quipped, forearms resting on the window sill.

“Told him you had a migraine last night. He figured you’d need rest,” Jess explained, shrugging.

Ella shook her head in disbelief, smile turning to a smirk. “Migraine being code for major meltdown?”

“Semantics.”

She scoffed. “Really? We’re both off?”

“Really,” he said, shaking his head at her suspicion. “Free as birds. You need some notarized documentation?”

Snickering, she shook her head and glanced over her shoulder. “Well, did you have any particular plans in mind? Or was this just spontaneity for the sake of it?”

“Well, last time you were in New York, you didn’t get the full experience. Thought maybe we could go to the Met, Miss O’Keefe?” Jess shifted his weight on his feet, a familiar uncertainty welling in his stomach. “I brought my car. We’ll be back before anyone will suspect where we went.”

Ella shook her head again in pleasant shock, giggling slightly. “If you can promise me no felony charges?”

“Misdemeanor at most,” he said, chuckling.

“Alright,” she said, stepping into her boots. “Let me just grab my jacket. You’re the fucking best, Mariano.”

.   .   .

“Yikes.”

Jess raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as she shuffled through the center console of his car, searching for a CD. She’d been exploring the selection. They didn’t often need a car, and when they did, Ella was always driving. She just preferred to be behind the wheel, and also, more importantly, his car was pretty much a death trap. But he’d insisted on driving to New York, paying for the gas himself. Face falling, he saw the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack in her hands. As a native New Yorker, he’d had Broadway shoved in his face his whole life. It wasn’t his fault if some of it stuck. He kept it in the car with various other road trip music, away from his uncle’s wandering eyes. He’d forgotten it was in there, along with a couple other soundtracks, from both movies and musicals.

A flush crept up the back of his neck. “Oh, that’s my mom’s.”

“Bullshit,” she laughed, immediately going to pop it in the CD player. She shook her head slightly as the first piano chords came through the speakers. “You like musicals, huh?”

“No. Jumping to conclusions much, Nancy Drew?”

“C’mon, Jess, I know a swan beaked you in the eye, I know you work at Walmart, it’s cool if you’re a theater geek,” she said, shrugging with a wide smile. “I mean, I like Phantom of the Opera too. It’s got a ghost, sort of. That’s all I can ask for.”

Sighing heavily, Jess bit his bottom lip. “My mom had a bunch of soundtracks in her car when I was younger. Hers were eight-tracks, but whoever had this car before me put in a CD player. I just...carried on the tradition.”

“Whatever, tough guy,” she teased. “Is there a home video of little Jess singing along out there somewhere?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Methinks the man doth protest too much.”

He rolled his eyes. “KISS t-shirt. Need I say more?”

“Touché,” she said, eyes lingering on him playfully for just a moment longer as the music started up.

Fighting off the urge to sing along, she watched Jess’s eyes, trained on the road. They’d been driving around an hour, good natured arguments over movies and music, through the misty morning air. The highway was largely empty, Sunday morning drivers at church or sleeping in. Ella almost couldn’t believe she was bound for a place dedicated to master works of art. She was about to see Van Gogh with her own eyes. The thought alone was enough to make her heart skip happily.

“Jess?”

“Hm?”

She shifted a little in her seat and her fingers went to clutch at her necklace. “Thanks for listening last night. I’m sorry I was such a freak about everything.”

Jess sighed through his nose. “No reason to be sorry. I get it.”

“You don’t need to be nice about it,” she continued, pursing her lips.

“What are you talking about? I’m always an angel,” he scoffed, a wicked sparkle in his brown eyes. When she looked unamused, he shook his head a little. “Eleanor, it’s fine. There is nothing for you to be sorry over.”

“And you don’t pity your sad sack girlfriend?”

He scoffed. “My girlfriend’s a badass artist. She doesn’t need my pity.”

“Very true,” she nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Seriously Jess, thank you. I can’t believe you’re taking me to the Met.”

He shrugged, nonchalant. “I don’t do things I don’t wanna do.”

.   .   .

Standing before Van Gogh’s “Flowering Orchard,” Ella felt a foreign lightness spread throughout her being. She had so many favorites, many of which she’d seen in the last few hours. Monet, O’Keefe, Picasso. But there was something about Van Gogh which always stuck out to her, a perspective so different from her own. She who saw everything with a hidden darkness, an ulterior motive. So rarely did she work in lively color. Ella couldn’t even fathom seeing such a vibrance in what was so often a gloomy world. It took her breath away to see the piece in person, the canvas Van Gogh himself had touched. She could feel her heart reaching out to the painting, a connection to the past. It was what she loved most about art, writing, music. Impersonal love letters sent out to the public, from creator to creation to audience.

Ella didn’t even startle as Jess’s arms laced around her waist, and she leaned back against him. “Hey, James Dean.”

He smirked. “Hey Daria, hate to break it to you, but we should go if we wanna be back before they call the FBI on us crazy kids.”

Clicking her tongue in disappointment, she looked down at the watch on his wrist and nodded. “One more minute.”

“If you insist.”

She chuckled. “Can you imagine seeing the world this way?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice in hushed tones with other viewers milling about near them. But, with his arms around her, Ella so calm and in her element, it felt like a private world. Where parents didn’t break promises and eyes didn’t pass premature judgement.

“Just…” she began, pausing to gather her thoughts, “he could see things with so much color and life and...I could never look at things this way. Maybe I’d be a better artist if I wasn’t such a cynic.”

“Oh, I think cynicism is a benefit in all areas of life,” he said.

“You sure about that, Nietzche?”

“Way I see it, there’s cynicism or there’s cutting off your own ear.”

She scoffed. “No middle ground?”

Jess shook his head. “No one becomes an artist unless they have to.”

“Deep, but not yours. That’s from White Oleander, thief,” she said, a smug smirk on her face.

“The point still stands, no matter the origin.”

“I know, but...it must have been so intense for him to live that way. To...I don’t know. I wonder if the torture is worth it to be such a genius,” she thought aloud, a wistful glaze in her eyes.

Biting his lip, Jess’s smirk grew. Despite how much Ella told him the only reason for her perfect grades was her insane work ethic and stellar organizational skills, he knew it wasn’t true. She was smart in ways she didn’t ever acknowledge, thought about things in ways which would never even occur to him. Of course he could see the beauty in all the art they’d encountered, and in the painting in front of him, but she could feel it, the way he felt the words in his books. And she could look at poetry and music as a linguistic collage, art in itself. It never surprised him how fond she was of modernism. Her mind was something he could never quite grasp, a complexity he could only admire. She would always be smarter. His heart felt so full, watching her watch the painting, he almost felt silly. Each day he got more sure. It was love he felt for her.

.   .   .

Reddish brake lights glowed against the dark highway. Ella could still taste the salt on her lips from the street food they’d had for both lunch and dinner. The windows of the rusty, screeching car were cracked slightly open, letting in the fresh, chilly spring air. Her blonde waves blew back from her face as the CD ran out. Without a word, she ejected the disk, put it back in its case, and started shuffling through the other albums.

“Jesus, Mariano, how have you never told me you like Rocky Horror?”

He sighed but didn’t have time to retort before she pointed a finger at him.

“We are going to a screening at some point. And I, of course, will be dressing up,” she said with a smile, not even looking over at him as she found a new CD. Looking over, he saw a flash of red and black on the case as she opened it up. He couldn’t hide his tiny grin as he turned back to the road.

“As long as I don’t have to,” he shrugged, heart fluttering in his chest with pleasant excitement as she put the disk in.

Ella reached her arm over and placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck, leaning deeper into her seat. Shivers went down Jess’s spine at her touch, and the opening chords of “Untitled” by Interpol. Neither of them said a word, but the soft smile never left Ella’s face. She remembered his hands on her waist the first time they kissed, the warm tingling in the pit of her stomach. Notes in books and drunken evenings, stitches and pianos, paintings and shoulders to cry on. Ella glanced over at him, could see the lights of the nighttime reflected in his brown eyes, and felt as she never thought she would. So strangely whole.

“Jess?”

“Yeah, honey?”

The words almost left her lips, she could taste them on her tongue, but she bit them back as her heart began racing. Instead, she breathed in, fresh air and the smell of pine.

“Do you wish your angel of music would hide no longer?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and his voice held no emotion as he spoke. “I don’t know, Stevens, do you wanna rock and roll all night? And party every day?”

[nightingiall]

head in the clouds: part iv

{story page} // {wattpad}

Rory doesn’t want to get up. 

Her body is slowly waking from sleep, limbs heavy and sated, and to be quite honest, she’s too comfortable to move. Soft hairs are brushing softly against her arm. A warm weight against her head is shifting a bit. A heart beat is thumping quietly and rhythmically beneath her ear—

Wait.

Rory opens her eyes only to find that she’s not even in her own bed. This, admittedly, happens sometimes, but not often, and she’s about to catapult out in pure horror when she realizes that the bed she’s in actually belongs to none other than Niall Horan. 

She freezes, taking in her surroundings, mortification melting into confusion. She’s currently laying horizontally on the bed, head on Niall’s chest as he slumbers peacefully on his pillow, perpendicular to her. His arm is curled around her head, as though she’d been resting on it and slipped down to his torso instead. It’s only now that she realizes her hand is curled around his wrist, holding his arm close. Next to her is Spike, somehow curled into both of them. 

Rory has...no idea how they ended up like this.

“G’mornin’,” Niall is murmuring, voice raspy and deep from sleep, and Rory has to ignore the voice in her head that declares how absolutely adorable it is. 

“Sorry,” is what she blurts out instead, getting ready to shift out of his space but getting blocked by Spike, who’s watching her with that signature frown. “Am I crushing you?”

Niall chuckles under his breath and it’s all sleepy and impossibly cute and Rory thinks, Oh my god I am in so much trouble, because now she’s gone and gotten too close and there’s no going back now. “No,” he replies, bringing his other arm around her so he’s holding her to his chest. “You’re very warm. It’s nice.” 

She wonders if he actually realizes what he’s doing or if this is just that half-asleep delirium that happens when you’re drifting between that space of dreams and consciousness. But then his fingers start to curl around her hair, his eyes opening slowly as he tries to fight the temptation sleep must be calling him back into, and all she can think about then is how the morning light suits him so well, rays filtering through his window and washing him in hues of soft gold. She’s so distracted that when he smiles at her, she smiles back. 

The memory is coming back to her now, how they ended up here, and she finds herself relaxing against him as she tries to make sense of it. They’d been up late last night, cooking dinner, no alcohol involved. Rory remembers them trying to get Spike to taste something, chasing him all the way to Niall’s bed before they were able to coax it into the picky cat. 

Then they just...talked. About everything. About nothing. Rory learned about Niall’s family—just a dad and a brother—and his plans after the summer was over—take a gap year traveling the world, most likely, but he really wants to pick up more knowledge on baking all sorts of goods from across the globe. She told him about wanting to take a break for a year as well, about wanting to be an artist but her mom wanting her to do something practical, about feeling suffocated and unsure about everything now that college is over. Butterflies flutter in her tummy now at the memory of him holding her hand and looking into her eyes with a look of conviction, reassuring her that they didn’t need to have everything figured out right now, that everything would work itself out and be okay. 

The entire time, Rory didn’t think about last summer, didn’t think about her broken heart. In fact, her heart didn’t even feel broken anymore. The pieces were somehow mended back together, sealed tight with new memories of parties and laughter with Harry and Leslie, of coffee-drenched mornings with Gigi, of scorching lifeguard shifts with Niall. Of friends. Of happiness. Of that beautiful expanse of time in which her heart had quietly and decisively moved on without her noticing. And she learned how to laugh again. She learned how to be Rory again. 

And somehow, in the midst of all of that, she and Niall fell asleep, all wrapped up into one another. And it felt good. 

Now, he’s smiling that sweet smile at her, all sleepy eyes and messy hair, and she feels new and whole and completely content with where she is. 

“Wanna stay for breakfast?” he asks, one hand tracing circles into the nape of her neck and the other smoothing down Spike’s fur. “I make some mean pancakes.” 

And Rory thinks, what’s the harm? Breakfast sounds nice. Spending more time with Niall sounds nice. So she doesn’t have to think about it when she asks, “Got an extra toothbrush for me?” Niall’s smile grows a little wider at her words, and something smooth and warm slinks around in her core at the sight of it.

Oh my god I am in so much trouble, she thinks again.

Because Niall Horan smiles at her and all of a sudden she can’t think straight.

***

Rory thinks blue eyes are probably a bit hazardous. 

Specifically Niall’s blue eyes. Because she gets so lost in them that she’s nearly stepping onto Spike’s tail, and when she realizes at the last second, she ends up tripping over her own feet when she attempts to avoid hurting him.

And if she ends up spraining her ankle and Niall ends up having to give her a piggyback ride home, then his laugh is worth it. Gigi takes one look at her when they get there and Rory knows she will never hear the end of the I told you so’s. 

But there are 35 days left of summer, and...well, Rory doesn’t really know what to do with herself.

***

They’re in the dog days of summer. 

That’s what Rory and Gigi usually say when it gets to that point in the season where it’s so unbearably hot and sultry that even the guests don’t feel like doing much. August has finally descended on them and today, the pool is full of adults just lounging about, cold bottles of beer selling like crazy and everyone soaking up the last bits of sun before the summer ends, even though that is about a month away. Even the children are lazily drifting through the pool, ice creams melting near their parents on the loungers. 

Rory, for her part, cannot get a certain blue-eyed boy out of her head. It doesn’t help that he’s sitting on the lifeguard chair right across from her. He does this thing to stay focused, sings songs in his head, and when he does he always taps his fingers against his knees or against the arms of his chair or against his reusable water bottle to the beat of whatever it is. Recently, she’s been wondering what song is playing in his head, what that beat is that’s helping him stay focused on the people splashing about in the pool. 

But most of all, she can’t stop thinking of those fingers and how they felt when they were tangled up in her hair the other day. She replays the action at every waking moment, can’t sleep sometimes because the memory of warm, nimble fingers tracing shapes against the nape of her neck haunts her, like the ghost of what could be. 

She doesn’t realize that she’s sketching them until that familiar brogue is shouting, “Hiya, Rory,” and her concentration breaks. She quickly brings the sketchbook against her chest in her panic, hoping that Niall didn’t see whatever was on the page, which is irrational because he’s only now sidling up to her chair. “Jumpy today, eh?” he teases, signature grin on full display. “Whatcha drawing?

He reaches out to flip the book over but Rory hugs it tighter to her chest. “Nothing!” she nearly yelps out, voice all high-pitched and veering on the edge of panicked. She clears her throat when he gives her an amused look, amending her tone. “Um. Nothing. It’s uh...it’s not good.” 

He laughs and Rory feels her cheeks beginning to sting with that familiar burn. “C’mon, Rors, I’m sure it’s great.” Those stupid blue eyes glimmer in the sunlight and Rory really hates him right now. Really hates that he can have her feeling like mush just by doing the absolute bare minimum. She must send him some look though because he drops the subject with a huffed out “Fine.” Then he asks, “How’s your ankle?” 

Rory lifts her leg to look at it and, sure enough, it’s gone a bit swollen on her as she was too busy getting all distracted. She should probably get another ice pack on it. “Well,” she shrugs, trying not to flinch when Niall reaches out to gently press against it. “It doesn’t really hurt anymore.” 

Niall looks at her like he doesn’t believe her, grin sliding off his face only to be replaced with a stern line. “You should really get some ice on it, Rory.” It’s only now that she realizes how close he’s gotten. “It’s not going to get better if you don’t take care of it.” 

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Okay, mom,” she says curtly, moving to slide off her chair and head over to her next post. As is customary between them at this point, she ignores his hand of help. Just her luck though, her ankle is still tender, and because she’s so focused on keeping her notebook hidden from him, she steps down wrong and her knees end up buckling under her weight as she hits the ground, Niall instantly reaching out to grab her arms and steady her. 

“You’re so stubborn,” he grits out as he helps her up, and this time he’s the one rolling his eyes at her. “Stay here. I’m going to get you some ice.” Rory watches as he motions to Zafar, who is behind him in the rotation, and Callie, another lifeguard who’s in front of Rory in the rotation, that he’ll be right back and scurries off towards the canteen where there’s a first-aid station. 

She huffs to herself as she tries to walk as normally as she can to her next post, but she probably ends up limping because even Callie is calling out to her asking if she’s okay. She waves her off, managing a smile as she gingerly hauls herself up onto the lifeguard chair, glad to be under the shade of the umbrella now. Her sketchbook, now laying closed on her lap, taunts her. Her fingers itch to open it and resume her sketch, but this is dangerous, dangerous territory. 

“I thought I told you to stay put.” Niall’s looking at her all exasperatedly as he hands her an ice pack. She takes it with a frown, a retort ready on her tongue, but it quickly melts away when she presses the pack to her ankle. The cooling sensation that runs through her is so soothing; she didn’t even realize it had been hurting so bad. “You better go straight home after this and get some proper ice on it.” Niall is crossing his arms at her now, watching her so seriously that it nearly startles her. “You can’t keep running around on it or it’ll never get better.” 

A rather enamored warmth runs through her at the way he so obviously cares, but she masks it with yet another eye roll. “But I was meant to stop by the kitchens to get more food for Spike—”

“Don’t worry about, Spike,” he interjects tersely, and Rory wants to reach out to smooth away the little wrinkle that has settled between his brows. “I’ll figure something out. But if you even think about stopping by with that ankle of yours then I won’t open the door for you and it’ll have been a waste of your time!”

Rory can’t help it. She breaks at that, a tiny giggle escaping her lips, and she can’t even be mad at herself for it because it makes Niall smile. “Fine,” she mumbles, defeated, because she can’t ignore the disappointment that settles over her now. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t look forward to spending time with Spike—and, okay, fine, Niall too—after her shifts. It gave her something to do now that she didn’t hang out with anyone else on the grounds, apart from Harry and Leslie when they’re free and Gigi when she actually shows up at their place. 

Niall notices her mood shift because of course he does, and he reaches out to playfully nudge at her, grinning as he starts to move towards his next post because he’ll get written up if someone important walks by and notices them having a conversation when they should be working. “Turn that frown upside down, beautiful,” he calls out when he’s halfway, winking for good measure, and the blush that burns through her this time is so unbearable that she nearly yells out at him to stop the compliments because she doesn’t know how many she’ll be able to handle. 

Luckily, or unluckily, for her, he swings himself up onto his lifeguard chair, attention returning to the people splashing around in the pool, fingers tapping against his knees as his song resumes in his head. 

As Rory opens her sketchbook to look at the drawing, she groans to herself. 

She hasn’t managed to draw in any distinctive features yet, but anyone with a brain would be able to tell it’s of Niall, lounging in his lifeguard chair, fingers of one hand wrapped around his bottle and the other against his knee, posture and build unmistakable. 

***

There are 31 days left of summer and Rory has got it bad. 

***

“What do you mean you told them!”

Rory is glaring and Niall is watching her sheepishly, pinpricks of red coloring his cheeks. Behind him, she can see Harry and Leslie chasing Spike around, the cat making a sort of indignant sound, Leslie knocking over a picture frame in the process. Rory huffs angrily at the sight. 

“Hey, don’t be upset.” Niall is giving her that wide-eyed puppy dog look and it reminds her of that night when she caught him sneaking around the grounds with Spike in a duffel bag. They’ve come a long way since then.

Rory opens her mouth to retort but is cut off by the sound of Harry bursting into a fit of laughter inside and she rolls her eyes. Niall almost smiles but a group of people loudly file out of the apartment across the street and his face changes into an unreadable expression. 

He cautiously looks around before grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside, shutting the door behind them. “The blokes next door made a passing remark one day that they could hear animal noises sometimes and I freaked out. So I asked Harry and Leslie if they’d stop by between their shifts to check on Spike sometimes to make sure he wasn’t too lonely. I didn’t want to bother you about it. You had to let your ankle heal after all.” He tries to smile at her but it looks a bit like a grimace as he anticipates the way she might look at him, but she only watches him warily. “And plus, Harry works in the kitchens so it won’t look suspicious if you kept going over to get food. This way there’s less of a risk of you getting in trouble too.” 

And, ugh, Rory hated how annoyingly endearing he was. It wasn’t fair! She was trying so hard not to fall for him and was hopelessly failing. And Rory did not like failing.

“Rors,” Niall murmured softly, voice syrupy sweet, like the slow pour of honey over Sunday morning pancakes, like the leisurely melt of ice cream sitting out on a hot summer day. He steps into her space the slightest bit, fingers grazing against hers cautiously, deliberately, before retreating a bit, as though remembering that invisible boundary between them. “Please don’t be angry. You know Spikey likes you best. Nothing can change that.” He seems to change his mind on the fingers front, boundary forgotten, because he laces his into hers for a quick moment, squeezing gently. “And that’s saying something because Leslie brought him toys.” 

Sure enough, Rory looks over to see Spike lazily prodding at a stuffed toy. As soon as he catches sight of her though, he plods over. It seems like the exercise has done him well because he no longer drags his paws as much and is all sidled up to Rory’s feet in a matter of seconds. “Hi, Spikey boy,” she murmurs at him, releasing her fingers from Niall’s in favor of kneeling down to smooth them across her favorite cat’s fur. And also because if Niall said one more word to her with his eyes sparkling the way they were then she would have had no choice but to kiss him and it was better if that didn’t happen. Especially not in the presence of their friends.

Above her, Niall laughs, and she can’t bring herself to look at him but knows he’s glowing. “See. He loves you most.” 

She’s somehow swept inside, Leslie cheering at the sight of her while Harry chastises her for not telling them about Spike sooner. Harry adores cats, always talks about how much he’s wanted one. Which is why when Spike continually ignores his approaches, Rory finds it endlessly amusing. 

“Niall, you’re so lucky you don’t have roommates,” Leslie says while petting Spike’s fur. “I can’t imagine how you’d’ve been able to pull this off with one. The other Shack boys aren’t like you.”

Niall laughs his big, buoyant laugh at that, and the sound of it seems to lure Spike close to him. Rory can understand, it makes her lean in to catch every expression of his too. “Well, I had one at the beginning of the summer but he had to leave and then never got replaced, so…” He trails off, shrugging, and they all lament at how lucky he is to not have to deal with another person in his space. 

By the end of the night, Spike seems to have gotten sufficiently acquainted with these new additions to his life, especially once he sees the way Rory and Niall interact with them. And when Rory gets used to sharing this part of her life that she’d been so protective over, she finds herself relaxing and laughing along too. 

Until there’s a knock on Niall’s door. 

They all freeze at the sound of it. Even Spike’s tail pauses in midair as he picks up on the sudden mood shift between them. Niall glances around questioningly, as though one of them would know who it is, before he gets up to answer. Rory feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, feels as though they’re all collectively holding their breaths as they watch Niall look through the peephole. 

Then he laughs and the tension breaks. 

“I brought snacks!” comes a familiar voice when he opens the door, and when Niall moves aside, Rory is shocked to find that it is none other than her roommate. Sure enough, Gigi grins at all of them, holding up a box of sandwiches that must have been left over from a corporate event and a gift bag that clinks with the unmistakable sound of wine bottles. 

All of them except for Rory cheer when Gigi makes her way inside, heading straight for Spike to nuzzle her fingers against his fur. Harry immediately grabs the wine and Leslie makes quick work of the sandwich box as they head to Niall’s kitchen to get everything opened. Rory, for her part, simply looks at Niall, whose cheeks are already coloring with that familiar rosy tinge, with a look that says, Her too?! Because for something that they’re supposed to be keeping a secret, it seems as though more people have found out in the past three days than in the past few weeks. 

But either way, she’s not really upset. She just likes the way Niall’s blue eyes get all wide as he squeezes her fingers when he tries to console her.

***

“You have a crush on him,” says Leslie when they’re walking home. 

Rory just sighs, because her friends are smiling at her all knowingly, and she knows this is serious because they usually mind their own business. Well, except for Gigi, whose ears perk up at this conversation. So she asks, “How obvious is it?” 

Harry bumps his shoulder into hers, and when she looks at him, he’s grinning wildly at her, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks. “So obvious.” 

Rory looks at Gigi then, expecting the I told you so, expecting the forthcoming round of gloating because she called it. Instead, she receives a soft smile and a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re happy again, Rory.” 

And she can’t help herself when she stops just to pull them all into a hug. Because there are 27 days of summer left, and some moments are meant to be savored.

--

tell me what you think! :)

[vios-rockland-corner]

Life in Rockland 1

[Author’s note:  “Life in Rockland” is a creative writing project utilizing a specific OC in place of the MC for the “Rumors of Rockland” series.  I do not own any part of the Rockland universe, only my OC.  Fair warning, creative writing is not my forte.  This is a means of practice and a fun way to enjoy the content further].

Sasha Holmes is new to Rockland and just had quite an interesting day.

 Setting: After game events

Play: Rumors of Rockland- Article 1

[Spoilers below for RoR Article 1]

Sasha’s Choices:

[“Like the guy from Resident Evil?”]

[“Ah ha, what exactly do you have to do to look like you’re from around here?”]

[“Are you serious?”]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t believe you’re still not unpacked yet.  Hasn’t it been almost a week since you moved?”

The voice came from Sasha’s laptop.  She was busy multi-tasking while video-chatting with her best friend Pierce.  Well she could see his face IF she turned over from rummaging through boxes and laying out things on the floor.  Some might consider this rude, but Pierce just found it a little hilarious.

“Look it’s a lot of stuff okay?  Besides, I was busy this week going back and forth with work preparations and trying to get the layout of the place,” Sasha said with a huff, looking over her shoulder at the computer.

“Sounds like too much work. You should’ve just stayed home. What’s wrong with waiting a few more years before moving out?”

“Nothing.  Nothing’s wrong with it.  I just...”

“Wanted to break your best friend’s heart?” Pierce gives a very exaggerated pout.  Sasha turns around and smiles coyly.  She crawls over to the computer and lays in front of it, resting her chin on folded arms.

“No.  Even though you kind of deserve it sometimes.”

“I COULD always go easy on you in pool you now?  I don’t mind toning it down.  You’re not gonna beat me otherwise.”

“First off, I don’t want a pity play from you.  Second, you know damn well how close I got last game.”

“Yeah, only to hit the eight-ball into the complete opposite pocket you called. Gotta say, it was almost impressive how you hilariously made a masterful bounce into the wrong fucking pocket,” he grins, holding back his laughter.

“Well I mean that counts as skill doesn’t it?”

“Yeah like scoring a basketball shot for the other team.”

“Whatever, jerk.”

“But back on topic…”

“Okay yeah, look.  I love my hometown, my parents, and even your obnoxious butt.  But I just…didn’t want to get rooted.  I didn’t want to be living with my parents the whole time.  I didn’t want to know ONLY my home.”

“You worry too much.  The rest of the world’s not going to get up and leave if you take too long to hit the road Sasha.”

“I know that, but I wanted…a challenge.”

“A challenge?  You?  I thought you liked everything neat and controlled.  You want to throw things out of wack now?”

“Nothing elaborate.  Just a life challenge.  Take care of my own expenses and start from the ground up.  Meet people on my own and establish a career.”

“I feel like you’re letting your childhood slip away here.”

“Pierce, we’re not kids.”

“YOU sure as hell aren’t.  You always took freakin part-time jobs during college, and full-time jobs in the summer. I had to DRAG you out to the pub and parties for your own sanity.”

“Well moving and covering the cost of living is EXPENSIVE, Pierce.”

“Jesus, how much did you have saved up?”

“Enough so that I could get a place living by myself,” Sasha smiled proudly.

“Not that I don’t think that’s an impressive achievement girl, but I think I would have felt a little better if you had a roommate.  You’re out there by yourself I mean.”

“Look I worked hard for this, so I want my privacy.  I also didn’t really feel comfortable with finding a roommate way out here.”

“You didn’t pick your roommate in college either though.”

“Yeah, but that was our local college Pierce.  I had friends and family right nearby, so if things got weird I had help.  I’m a few hours away from all that now.”

“A ‘few hours’ you say.  It’s like, you’ve gone too short a distance to even warrant a move, and yet just far enough to making it a hassle with visits.”

“I disagree.  I think it’s the perfect distance.  I wanted to be able to visit home, but I didn’t want the temptation to go running home every chance I could get.  Not impossible to go home though.  The point here Pierce is for me to be ‘independent,’” she huffed.

“Whatever.” Pierce rolled his eyes.

“Say what you will, the deed is done.”

“So uh…Rockland.  Why?”

Sasha shrugged.  “No particular reason.  Just seemed like the best choice.  I looked at job advertisements for surrounding areas by distance, looked at their reviews and job pay and what kind of areas they were located at.  The job in Rockland was just better pay from my current job, and the place is small but still attracts tourists.  Means I don’t have to worry about being overwhelmed, but at the same time it SHOULD have just enough amenities and attractions to keep me entertained.”

“Oh?  Entertain yourself huh?  Last I checked that was my job.  Isn’t your idea of fun sitting at a café and going through files?” He smirked.

“Very funny.  Did you forget all the movies we’d watch together too?  I don’t need a buddy for that, and I’ll find other hobbies here. Maybe I’ll start running again.”

“Well good.  Not like you’re gonna get any excitement from your current job.  I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to push yourself to do something a little more interesting.”

“Thaaat’s what the hobbies are for Pierce.  The job is just for stability.”

“Could have added a little more drama to your life if you’d just decided to follow your namesake.”

“Pierce, literally no one in my family has ever been a detective.  DESPITE our last name.  It’s just a random name picked by a random author for a character that became randomly popular.  It is not a go ahead to pursue a career in criminal justice.”

“Seriously, why has NO ONE in your family ever tried to be a detective?”

“Because it requires you to see a lot of messed up shit?  I think I’ll pass.  I mean…if it makes you feel better, I had a great uncle who was a PI.”

“Really?? What was that like!?” Pierce looked a little excited.

“Honestly?  From the stories I heard, he just got a lot of crazies paying him.  People paranoid about being stalked or just using him as a way to harass others.  Wasn’t exactly fun work.”

“Bummer,” he said in a dejected tone.  “Well, I guess if you’re in a place like Rockland, probably wouldn’t get much action anyway.”

“What makes you say that?  Haven’t you been here before?”

“Just SOUNDS plain to me.  LITERALLY makes me think of rocks.  Yeah I’ve been there.  But that was like, when I was a kid?  Just visiting.  Was never for long.  Uncle was there.”

“Right.  Younger you was probably also too busy running around and sticking his hands in the dirt to actually pay attention to what was around you.”

“Yeeeeep that sounds like me,” he smirked.

“Well, I don’t know if the place has changed since you were little or you literally just have zero awareness of what’s around you, but I wouldn’t EXACTLY call this place boring.  Not after today.”

“Oh?” Pierce leaned in, curious.  “I’m so sorry, what WAS your day like dear Sasha?”

“Well, I was…looking for a place for a regular hangout.  I found this one bar in the Town Central.  At least it felt a lot more welcoming than some of the clubs around here.  Most of the people in general seem friendly here…but they can tell I’m new.  Like…ALL of them can tell.  It’s a little nerve-racking.”

“Look if you didn’t want to want to stick out like a sore thumb, you should have moved to a city.  I told you that.  Much easier to blend in there.”

Sasha shook her head.  “No, I didn’t want to get overwhelmed like that.  The best city choices were too big.  Then I’d really feel lonely.  It’s not bad here, I just…have to be sure I make a good first impression is all.  I don’t…think they hate new people?”

“You JUST said they were friendly, didn’t you?”

“Yeah but…see the bartender…” Sasha shook her head again, “No, no you know what?  I think I was just getting jittery since it’s a new place.  Forget it.”

Pierce tilts his head. “What about the bartender?”

“He…OH!  His name,” she quickly recovered and laughed.  “His name is Whesker!”

“Like Resident Evil Whesker?” Pierce chuckled.

“EXACTLY LIKE RESIDENT EVIL WHESKER!  Dude even knew what that was!”

“SHIT FOR REAL?!  That’s actually pretty sick.  Points for the bartender.  What’d you order from him?”

“Nothing, actually.  Him and the other bartender had to do something out back.  Didn’t actually get to drink anything the whole time I was there.”

“Boo.  Points deducted.”

Sasha chuckled, “Well I mean they were busy.  I wasn’t really mad.  Kind of got distracted with this one guy having…a mental breakdown?”

“Woah.  Like, what do you mean?”

“I mean he was…really off kilter.  Not gonna lie, dude was kind of terrifying.  He kept cussing up a storm and saying he was gonna slit someone’s throat. He did SOMETHING awful.  Could not figure out for the life me what EXACTLY he did. He had a friend with him and I was certain this dude was going to punch him in the face or toss him across the room. He didn’t though.  He just…kinda…slumped down into a weeping mess. It was weird.  He said something about drinking.  I think the dude was an alcoholic.  It was kind of scary to watch.  At first I was kind of quivering from the raw temper he had.  Then…I felt a little empty.”  Sasha went a little quiet.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Pierce said in a reassuring tone.  “Dude was probably just drunk.  Lots of people probably get a little emotional when they’re drunk.  Met a ton of guys who say a lot of shit they don’t really mean when they’re wasted.  Did he go near you?”  Pierce looked a little concerned.

“Oh no, no I didn’t get caught up in any of that.  His friend I guess took him to some place to cool off.  The alcoholic kept saying something about disappointing someone for…whatever he did.”

“That’s good.  If you were to guess what he did though, what would you say?”

Sasha shrugged.  “Maybe he got in a fight?  Broke someone’s nose?  Or maybe he’s got a gambling problem?”

“Yeah.  Could be those.  He could also literally have just spent all his paycheck on booze, and now he’s gotta figure out what to do for rent.  I’ve seen that a few times.  Whatever the case, just…keep your distance Sasha.  Dude was probably just being overly emotional, but I suggest you stay away from wildcards like that you know?”

“Oh yeah don’t worry.  I don’t do so great anyway with very…loud people.”

Pierce laughed. “Yeah I know.  Just saying that if it’s a small place, you MIGHT spot him again.”

“I’ll be careful.  Should be easy to tell if he’s been drinking again anyway.”

“Sounds like his friend can keep him under control.  Don’t worry, I’m sure the next person you come across won’t be as scary Sasha.”

“Well…by all accounts…I suppose you’re not wrong, even though I feel like you should be,” Sasha laughed nervously.

Pierce cocked an eyebrow.  “The heck is that supposed to mean?”

“I..ummm…I never thought I would say this in my entire life…”

“And that would be?”

“….I met a drug dealer.”

Pierce blinked. “YOU.  Met a DRUG DEALER?  You are shitting me right now.”

“No, no this is a thing that happened.  Right after the alcoholic left.”

“What, you parked close to the back alley and he came out to hassle you?”

“No this was in the bar.”

“Oh, oh so you’re telling me that a drug dealer just walked right the fuck up to you and said ‘Hey wanna buy some drugs?’” Pierce was grinning and trying to hold back his laughter.

“…Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“YES!  I’m not joking! This happened!  And the dude collects snow globes and friendship bracelets too!” Sasha blurted out, exasperated.

Pierce burst out laughing, “NO FUCKING WAY!  No, I’m not believing that shit for a second.  Sasha you must have misinterpreted something there or this dude was just fucking with you.”

“THERE’S NO WAY TO MISINTERPRET THE LINE WORD-FOR-WORD, ‘You want to buy drugs, kid?’”

“Sasha no drug dealer is going to deal that stuff in public.  Cops eat at those places too.”

“Yeah, about that��apparently the cops here are either inept or can be ‘persuaded.’  I don’t know. Tyler’s plan was apparently to give them a blow if he got caught.”

“Okay one, who’s Tyler?  And two, which blow you talking about?”

“Tyler is the drug dealer and…both?”

Pierce stares for a full 10 seconds, stunned.  He then burst out laughing again, falling over on his side this time.

“OH MY GOD!  OH MY FUCKING GOD! Sweet innocent Sasha left home for no less than a week and you’re already hooked up with the world’s nicest drug dealer.  Oh man.  Sasha I take back what I said about Rockland.  Sounds like a riot.”  He had a large Cheshire grin on his face, but was holding his sides from laughing so hard.

Sasha rolled her eyes and said in a deadpan tone, “Well I’m glad through this long conversation, the thing that finally seems to get you to approve of my move is my association with a drug dealer.  Of all things.  Your reaction also makes me understand Dylan’s pain even more now.”

Pierce sighed, “Oh man, that just, that just made my day.  Thank you….wait who the hell is Dylan?”

“You’re welcome, and Dylan is Tyler’s friend.  He was mostly horrified about how open Tyler was.  Probably one of the more sane people in the bar that night. He dragged Tyler away at the end.”

“Aww, so you didn’t get any drugs?”

“No?  No number, no drugs.”

“Why would you NOT get drugs?!”

“What th-YOU KNOW ME!  That’s not me.  Plus my parents would have a heart attack if I tried anything.”

“But Sasha!  It’s not enough to just not buy a product from a vendor whose actions you don’t approve of.  You gotta purchase from their competition whose conduct you prefer!”

“…Okay I get what you’re saying.  Like if I want to support humanely raised animals, buy the food in the store that’s only from farms with humane raising tactics.  But, Pierce…you’re talking about DRUG DEALERS here. That’s ALL illegal.”

“Same difference.  I’d rather pay the friendly snow globe collecting drug dealer in the bar than the creepy freak in the dark alley.  It’s how you make the world a better place Sasha!  Illegal or not, not like they’re going away.”

“You are…just…I think I understand Dylan’s feelings even more now.”

“Let me come visit sometime.  You can take me to see Tyler.”

“Oh hell no!  If I have any say in this, I’m gonna try my hardest that you two never meet.  I will NEVER hear the end of it otherwise.”

“Boo.  Fine, be that way.  …Hey can I tell your parents about Tyler?”

“NO.  You’ll make THEM start to question my choice in coming here.”

“Okay okay.” Pierce settled down.  “So in summary, you walked into a bar where the bartenders dipped out, an alcoholic was in hysterics and the drug dealer was trying to get you in his books….Eh, you know when I say it out loud it doesn’t sound like the craziest bar ever. May even be pretty normal compared to some standards,” he grinned.

Sasha chuckled, “Yeah, I think I’ll pay the place another visit sometime. It was…interesting.”

“You could use a little spice in your mundane life girl.  Sounds like this place could be a gem.  Let me know who else pops up there next time, kay?” he winked.

“I will.  Have a good night Pierce.”

“Say hi to Tyler for me!”

“GOOD NIGHT Pierce.”

Sasha clicked “End Call.”

Sasha sighed.  She felt emotionally exhausted.

Her eyebrows furrowed.  “Did I forget something?  I think that was all the news.  There was something though…” Sasha thought to herself.  Something was nagging at her.

“The…bartender?  What am I…oh no I mentioned his name!  Pretty sure that was it,” she chuckled.

Sasha looked at the boxes and just shook her head.  She’ll finish it later.  Right now, bed sounded like the best idea after all that excitement.

[kamejapan]

Daisy part six | EXILE TRIBE

“So, he’s our real dad?” Zeyu questioned while pointing at Kanou, head tilted to the side out of curiosity. Holding Ming Rui tightly, Kenta glared at Kanou and cleared his throat gently, eyes meeting the other as he saw him shrink a bit. 

“H-Hi boys, I’m your father. Nice to meet you,” The male choked out as he lost his composure and sat at the edge of the table, trying to find the next words. “Ah, the one mama talked about! Well, I guess we can try and get along. Though we don’t forgive you for hurting mama, we can make it work.” Haruto said with a smile as Kenta rubbed the back of the female who was visibly upset. 

“Oi, Kanou. What the fuck are you doing?!” Lashae yelled as she stormed up to him and spun him around, landing a punch on his face. Grunting and falling to the ground, Kanou touched his lip which started bleeding. “L-Lashae, I would’ve been fine...” Fenty mumbled as she looked at the ground, partially shocked that her best friend punched the taller in the face. “That hurt you asshole. I didn’t even do anything!” He shouted back, standing up while trying to wipe the blood off his lip. “We had a talk about this. You don’t ever pull a stunt like this. You know you fucked up the last time you saw her. I mean, leaving her pregnant with your kid? Kids, sorry. That’s the last time you swore you wanted to be with her ror have anything to do with her! So what’s changed Kanou? You wanting her again just for pussy or because you want to be a better man?” Lashae pressed, waiting for the man to respond to her. 

Being protective was something Lashae and Yuto were known for but nobody knew how protective they could be. Fenty looked up and put on the best smile she could, looking at the two of them. “Lashae, it’s okay. I know that you’re still angry for what he did to me but let’s move past that. I mean, the kids are here, Kenta is here, and so are their friends. I’m sure they don’t want to see us fight.” The younger said as she grabbed her bag and the kid’s stuff. “Come boys, I know you’re hungry. Kenta? Everyone? Do you want to come?” She asked loud enough for the tribe to hear as she fixed her clothes and bag. 

Everyone got up slowly, following the female who made a quick escape when they started their glaring battle. “Fenty, do you want to ride with me? I can take the kids for you if you want.” Kenta said softly as he walked next to the smaller, Ming Rui on his back and fast asleep. “Go on ahead without me, I want to be alone for a bit.” She mumbled as she took off the other way. 

Watching her fading figure, Ming Rui wriggled out of Kenta’s arms and jumped down, waiting for his brothers who fixed their shoelaces. “Come on! Last one owes mom 600 push-ups!” Ming Rui said as soon as his older siblings stood up, taking off as fast as possible. Hearing his brothers close behind, he sped up to tag his mom and hold her hand. 

Surprised at what happened, the rest of the group froze in their spot and decided to wait for the family to come back. As they all came back, the atmosphere was different as the kids raced their mother to the restaurant, jumping over obstacles and performing top level parkour. “You’re cheating mom!” Zeyu screamed as he ran next to her, jumping over a fire hydrant as he saw her smirk. “Am I now? Then you better catch up!” She shouted as she ran ahead, arriving at the restaurant first. 

---------------

Separating down the middle as quartet ran through, confused as to what just happened. “I guess we’ll head to the restaurant now?” Lashae said as she walked ahead, adding a little speed to catch up to her best friend and the kids. 

Stopping shortly in front of the sight in front of her, shocked that Fenty was locking lips with another guy. Clearing her throat slightly, the two separated as Fenty giggled at her best friend. “Do you remember Renjun?” The female asked as she showed a little smirk, raising a brow to see if her friend remembered their childhood gang. Eyes widening a little, Lashae ran and gave the group of guys hug as she laughed loudly at their antics. 

“Wait so you kissed him because you swore to him you’d give him a kiss once we reached college?” Lashae questioned as the two females sat down with their original group they came with, facing each other and sipping their drinks. At Lashae’s statement, the males all perked up and turned to look at the two females. “Yeah, I mean, we both made the promise so I finally did it. But I think I promised to give all of them a kiss, I forgot what I said.” Fenty replied as she placed her drink down and crossed her legs, a small smile slipping through as she made eye contact with her childhood friends. 

“No way in hell are you kissing all of them.” Yuto whispered into the female’s ear who only shuddered in response. Making eye contact with Kenta and Kanou, Fenty gulped and looked away, making her shirt a little less revealing than what it was. “Looks like the two of them got you hooked on a string.” Lashae whispered to her as she let out a laugh. “So funny. Try saying that when you get fucked by them both.” Fenty growled back as she stabbed her steak. 

Snorting with laughter, Yuto and Lashae both watched their best friend calm down and be reduced to what could be compared to rubble as the men stared her down in jealousy and anger. 

-------------

Getting up to go wash her hands, Fenty slipped into the bathroom and fixed herself before planning to head back out. Walking out, standing in front of the door were the two men who only crossed their arms. “K-Kanou, Kenta. How can I help you two?” Fenty nervously chuckled out as she looked between the two males who only stepped closer to her, causing her back to hit the wall. 

“I guess lessons that were taught need to be retaught, don’t they Fenty?” Kanou hissed out as he snuck his hand to her throat. Unable to breathe and showing her vulnerable side that Kanou knew all to well, he smirked. “This reminds me of back then, you looked so cute then but even cuter now. Makes me want to ruin you right now on the spot.” He growled out as she squeezed her legs together, becoming horny almost immediately. 

“There’s two of us now, so I don’t think we should be old fashioned with one or one at a time. Let’s both do it.” Kenta hummed as he pulled out the controller for the vibrator and turned it on the highest setting for the needy female. “We should go back and see how well she behaves herself at the table. Even when she cums. Make sure she looks gorgeous cumming in her panties for us.” Kenta hummed as the other nodded and released the female. 

“Go on, slip it inside of you and the game will begin. Do you hear me?” Kenta said sternly as she nodded and scurried back inside to slip the given item inside of her. “Game start..” She mumbled softly as she let out a moan loud enough for the two of them to hear. If they were going to play a game with her, then she was going to play one of her own on them. She was ready. 

[faunahudson]

Peace | Sauna

Who: Sawyer Hudson and Fauna Hudson - @sawyer-hudson

Where: The Hudson Apartment

When: 8th of December 2020

What: The Hudsons make peace with one another

Warnings: Fear of punishment, and vague references to abuse

She'd left Rorys at the same time she would have usually got up for her work out, and then very slowly walked back to her and Sawyers. At first she wasn't sure what she was more afraid of, whatever punishment he might dish out to her or the idea that he might send her away. Like a coward she couldn't bear to face him right away, not if he was not going to want to see her. So she lingered until she was sure that he'd gone for his run before letting herself into their apartment. She placed Butterscotch carefully back on the bed and then went through to the living room to kneel with her head hung and wait until he got home, and just pray that he wanted to see her.

Sawyer never had trouble sleeping, not even in the days when his dad would be stumbling home blind drunk, arguing with Carole in the kitchen late at night, in the really small house they had, back when he and Finn shared a room. He always had managed to tune it out, sleep like the dead. It might have been to do with the fact he always shared -- first with Finn, and then an abundance of girlfriends and boyfriends snuck into the house growing up -- and this had been the first night in a long one he wasn't sharing. He had tossed and turned, not even having Butterscotch to seek comfort from. The next morning he decided to stick to his routine, hoping his morning jog would wake him up somewhat, hoping to come across Fauna on his route. He wanted to make sure she was okay. He might have fucked things up, she might not want to wear his collar anymore, get her tattoo covered up, but until it was finalised she was still his responsibility. Even when she wouldn't be anymore, he'd still care about her. Making his way back to the suite, he opened the door, reaching for his phone to give her another text, only sending her one vague one last night though he drafted out hundreds of apologies and 'I love you's'. He stopped short seeing her on her knees in the living room. "Hey," He greeted, softly, unsure, curious and concerned on her current state. Sawyer approached her, not wanting to startle her. "What are you doing?" He asked.

Fauna heard the door open and for the first time in her life she was nervous to see Sawyer, not because she wanted him any less than she'd wanted him this time the day before but because she was scared that things had changed completely since then. That he might see her differently now that she'd behaved the way that she had yesterday, technically their argument could have been construed to have started with a command. You need to get your friend in line. Had been his demand, and not only had she refused but she'd then continued to act like every Dominants worst nightmare. "I'm-I'm ready for my punishment Sir." She responded in a very small voice, one that she hadn't heard in a very long time. The times that he'd sporadically punished her before had all been minor offences, he'd taken her DS away, denied her, or simply ordered her to the spare room. She had no idea what Sawyer did for greater offences. "I understand if you don't want to-" She cut herself off because her throat was getting tight again. "If you don't want to see me yet, but I wanted to give you the opportunity without being asked." She explained, not raising her eyes from the floor as she tried hard not to cry. She'd be very, very lucky if he simply wanted to punish her, lucky if he didn't demand the collar back right now and send her away. A punishment was the very least she deserved.

Just like that, any anger, any negative feelings from the night before, vanished, and his heart broke in a million pieces at her words. He got down on his knees beside her, reaching out to hold her, but stopping short, awkwardly placing his hands on his lap. "I'm not going to punish you," He told her, tears welling in his eyes, "I don't want to punish you. You didn't do anything wrong to be punished." He promised. He finally reached out to stroker her back, slowly, so she could recoil if she wanted to. "Of course I want to see you, I've been desperate to know if you've been safe." He then added, swapping the words out last minute. He wanted to know if she was okay, but this little display in front of him made it clear she wasn't, and he was at fault for it.

She closed her eyes for a moment when he got down on the floor next to her, because she was just willing him not to be too angry with her, that he'd at least make the whole thing quick. Fauna could hardly believe his next words, brown eyes flicking up to look at his face with confusion. "You're not?" The submissive asked, her lip trembling a little. "I did... I was disrespectful, I refused to do what you told me to and I swore at you." She reminded him, worrying her lip as he put his hand on her back, her hands twitching because she so desperately wanted to throw them around his neck and cling to him. "I was just at Rors.. I'm sorry I didn't reply to your text, I was scared that if I came home you might- send me away. Rory said you didn't say anything when he came to get Butterscotch." She explained. "Which would have been okay, if you- if you.. but I just couldn't.. I couldn't bear the idea of having confirmation of you not wanting to see me."

A part of Sawyer wanted to address how Rory always had to lie for the smallest of things, because he knew for a fact he said hi to Fauna's brother, who just completely ignored him as he fetched the rabbit, rollerskating through their suite like he owned it. But he supposed that was another topic for another day. "You were only disrespectful because I was, Fauna. The way I spoke to you was...disgusting. It was completely out of order." He shook his head. "I don't mind, that you didn't reply. No news is good news in some way." Sawyer blinked, tears falling down his face. "I was worried to get a text telling me you were going to have your stuff collected, that you were moving out permanently." He admitted, "That in an instant, I had lost you, because I let my anger get the better of me."

He was crying, and she hated it. It was always her least favourite sight in the world. She hated that he felt guilty at all, that he was feeling bad for her when she should have at least somewhat supported him. When really there was a part of her that could accept that Alexis had been at least a little in the wrong and that he'd been right that if this had happened to Rory she'd have been beyond angry. Tentatively she reached out to wipe away a tear. "No.. you were just angry because your brother was hurt.. and I didn't support you. I was obtuse and rude and a hypocrite." Fauna admitted, swallowing her pride for once in her life. "I would never.. ever.." She swore. "You really think I'd leave you just because you were angry with me? Sir I'd never leave you.. Especially not for being worried about your brother, and being human. You're allowed to feel negative emotions."

He gulped, fighting back the tears, leaning into her touch as she wiped the tears away. Separated for one night, and it was like they had spent years apart. "I was being rude about your friend, not just a friend but someone who's basically family to you." He admitted, because she was being mature enough to admit her wrongs, and so should see. When Fauna said it, repeated his fear out loud, it sounded stupid. That she would just up and leave after one stupid fight. "I know but...I have a history. And I didn't want it to be....the Thing that broke us. Me losing control." He mumbled, face reddening from embarassment at the admission. "Why did you think I'd punish you, Kitten?" He then asked, to deflect from himself for a moment.

Slowly and a little shyly she wrapped her arms around his neck, not closing the distance though just sort of awkwardly hugging him in mid-air. "I was shocked.. that you felt that way about her and that you snapped at me. But it doesn't give me the right to swear at you or treat you disrespectfully." He might not want to punish her, but the guilt at having made him think that she would leave him was eating her up. "I didn't marry you yet.. but in my heart the promises that I intend to make stand even now. I'll be with you for better or for worse. Even if you're angry with me, I didn't like us yelling at eachother.. but it's human to get upset when something happens to someone you care about. Recently when I perceived someone to be hurting you.. I punched them in the face..I'm hardly an innocent rose." She pointed out, and then bit her lip again. "Because you should Sir.. I was a bad submissive. Submissives don't refuse orders especially not like I did, and they're not rude, they don't say 'i don't know who you think you're talking to'. Harold would have slapped me for that kind of infraction, and I daren't have come home for a week if I'd said even one F bomb to Percy when he asked me to do something."

Sawyer listened to his instincts and closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, feeling like he could finally breathe again now they were touching. "My feelings regarding Alexis don't give me the right to speak to you in that way either," He pointed out. "I also didn't like us yelling, and I want to promise to you now I'll never...ever yell at you. Ever. No matter how angry, or upset, or tempted to punch in the face." He added with a wet laugh. Her explanation made his stomach twist, and he hated that he had snapped to the point it reminded her of Harold and Percy, the two men he'd rather die than act like. "I'm not them," He said, slowly, "I'm so sorry if my actions reflected theirs, but I'm not..." He broke off, "I don't see you as some lowly submissive who needs to act demure and meek all the time. Scenes are different, sure, but in everyday life...you're a human being. You have emotions, you reacted to the way I acted. I'd never blame or punish you for that."

She was so very glad when he closed the distance for her, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck now and clinging like a koala just wanting the protection that she always found when she was in his arms. “I promise never to like yell in anger.. I might exclaim very loudly when I get excited or if like I saw Kiera Knightley and you were too far away to grab you. But I’m very sorry that I spoke to you the way I did.. I promise to not ever speak to you like that again not matter how upset I am.” She couldn’t help but mix in a little humour when she spoke, it was simply in her nature. “I know you’re not them, and I don’t think you’re like them.. not at all.” Tears came then as she buried her face into his neck. “Thank you Sir.” Was all she managed to choke out. “Thank you for letting me be a person.” It seemed like a ridiculous thing to say, but she truly was so very grateful. That she was allowed to argue and to have feelings, and she wouldn’t be punished for them. Even if she’d been in the wrong.

Sawyer knew that she meant it, to try to never yell when she was angry, but he wanted her to know it was okay. It was human nature. As long as they managed to talk it out, see it from both points of view, make sure they knew how much they loved each other at the end of the day. "You can whenever you want, about anything, in any mood." He promised, "But  it's an instant divorce if you don't yell loud enough for me to meet Elizabeth Bennet herself," He added as a joke, giving her to wink to assure her that he was only teasing. He soothed her as she cried, wanting to punch Percy and Harold (again, in his case) for making her feel like she could have never been a person before, but deciding holding her and making her feel loved and appreciated was the next best thing. "You're welcome," He said, simply, "I'd not have you any other way than this amazing, whole person in my arms right now."

Fauna was struck for what seemed like the millionth time in her life by how much she loved him, how well he took care of her and it only made her hold him tighter. “I will still try not to yell at you when I’m angry.. because I hated fighting with you.” She confirmed. “I swear, I will never let you miss out on any actor or actress who’s been in Pride and Prejudice. I will holler like a little mountain dog, girl guide honour.” The submissive promised, reaching up to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop falling despite herself. “I know I was only away for a night, but it was pretty terrible. Not being in your arms.”

“I hate fighting with you too,” Sawyer agreed in a murmur, feeling the world and their problems melt away for a brief moment as he held on tight to her. At her promise of hollering in case of actors, he looked at her dead in the eye. “Bible?” He asked with a small smile, thinking back to the first time he ever heard the little quip she often used when making a promise, one of the many, many things he loved about her. “I couldn’t sleep,” Sawyer admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed by it, “without you. I was just so worried that you weren’t ever going to come back. That if I went to sleep I’d wake up with your collar on your pillow and...that be that.”

“Maybe we could just like have one of those white boards that middle class people have where they spell out little passive aggressive notes in coloured alphabet letters…” Fauna suggested, and then giggled when he said Bible. She loved when the little things that she said started to rub off on him, especially when they were as colloquial as ‘bible’. “Bible.” She promised equally as serious, crossing over her heart as she’d done when she was a teenager. When he confessed that he couldn’t sleep, she traced underneath his eyes with a little frown, feeling guilty for not just coming home to him when she’d clearly frightened him. “I’m so sorry I made you worry…I promise you, I will never ever leave you, I meant it when I said you were stuck with me. You could kill a man and I’d be like okay where are we burying him. Even if you stopped liking hot dogs, or you like.. I don’t know didn’t want to be my Dominant we’d talk about it and we’d work it out. I’m never going to love anyone else.. just you.”

He wrinkled his nose at the idea. "Or we can just talk like adults when we're stressed and frustrated?" He suggested, eyebrows slightly raised. He felt himself relax when she repeated 'Bible' to him, as if that was the notion he knew that they were truly going to be alright. Eyes fluttering close as she gently traced the dark circles under his eyes, he truly felt how tired his body was in this instant. They opened when she rambled on, promising to love him under a myriad of different, insane reasons. "I will always want to be your Dominant," He told her, his voice soft, but serious. "You are the love of my life, Fauna Eloise Hudson, and I want no one but you either." A few moments of silence passed, Sawyer worrying his lip. "How about..." He began, trying to form the right words, "How about we promise to each other that we won't let our opinions of other people's relationship affect our own?"

Fauna pretended to ponder his suggestion just for a moment. “I mean I guess being civilised about the whole thing would probably be the preferable option.” The brunette responded, letting her face truly echo her guilt just for a moment while his eyes were closed. Vowing that no matter how scared she was of losing him, she would always come home to him, she wouldn’t give him anymore sleepness nights if she could help it. His little vow felt important, and she nodded savouring his words for a moment. “I am so terribly lucky you know.” She whispered. His proposal was one that she had wanted to make herself but hadn’t known quite how to phrase it. “I think that’s an excellent suggestion, because as much as we love our siblings at the end of the day if Odette and Conor or Evan and Rory decide to hook up next week… I don’t want the love we have for them to negatively impact our life together.”

It was hard to think it was just the morning, time had gone so slowly and yet so quickly during this falling out. This stupid disagreement, that ultimately turned out to be important. Sometimes you had to go through some shit to be able to see how to go forward in the future, after all. "I'm the lucky one." He murmured, tired eyes soft, fighting off a yawn as they finished this talk. "It won't," He said, matter-of-factly, "We will support them no matter what, and guide them to do right by each other and themselves, but if we find ourselves with differing opinions on it we'll simply talk it through with each other and...mind our business I guess." He added with a laugh, the yawn taking its opportunity to fight its way through. "My next suggestion, we call in sick to class and we just catch up on some very much needed sleep?"

She ran her little hand through his hair as he yawned, just gazing at her her sweet soft Sawyer who she loved more than anything else in the entire world. “Yes, we support our family and give them our love and attention. But we shouldn’t fight their battles between ourselves if we can help it and maybe once in a while I might consent to stop meddling.” The brunette promised, kissing just below his ear as he yawned again. “It’s an excellent suggestion angel, I can see why you’re the Dominant.” She slid forward and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Carry me through?” She asked. “Please?”

He let the angel comment slide, his heart full of relief and love that they were still together, that they weren't going to break up. Of course, if he was less tired and emotional, Sawyer would come to that conclusion, would realise how ridiculous it would be if they did break up over one fight. "I think if I find the perfect way for you to consent to the no meddling talk, it'll never happen again." He half-joked, voice thick with sleep. At her request, and the feeling of her legs around his waist, he managed a smirk. "I think I have enough energy to do that, and I promise you, after we're well-rested, I have another way to make up to you." He said, wiggling his eyebrows, followed by a raspy laugh. Sawyer then lifted Fauna effortlessly to the bedroom, carefully laying her down and lying beside her, spooning her. "I love you." He mumbled into her hair.

Fauna just felt a thousand times calmer and more safe now that she knew Sawyer wasn’t angry with her, he was going to keep taking care of her and it was like a million pounds of weight had been taken off her shoulders. “I’d suggest making it a proper rule but I’d be punished every Tuesday for meddling.” She conceded, burying her face in his neck as he carried her through to their bedroom. Swiping Butterscotch as they went, and snuggling closely into his arms as he spooned her. “I hope you’re going to make it up to me in a number of different ways and in a number of different positions.” She giggled sleepily, burying her face into Butterscotch. “I love you too Sir, so much.” Fauna told him, before she finally let herself drift into a true sleep, back where she belonged once and for all.

[halfgclden]

Ice Ice Babies

Date: February 2014

Characters: Rory&Abel

Summary: Some cousins on a lake, also the zodiac killer?

Abel laced up their ice skates tightly as they sat on the edge of the frozen lake, the sun bright as it reflected off the ice. They smiled at Rory once they righted themself and held out their hands to help her up as well. “Alright, remember not to get too close to the middle, so I don’t have to fish you out.” They smiled. “Ready for some spins and jumps?”

Rory was watching the lake, nervous about the ice skating lesson Abel had insisted on, but regardless, she tightened the laces on her own skates.  When they stood up, she looked up, hoping that her nerves weren't as apparent on her face.  "If I try to do anything other than stand on this, I think I'm going to end up head first in a pile of snow." She slowly reached out and gripped onto Abel's hands, but refused to let go once she was on her own two feet. "Middle is off limits. Got it."

Abel laughed a bit. "I think you should give yourself a bit more credit. I'll hold off on the backflip for a bit, but I think you'll be able to skate in a straight line and maybe even break by the end of this." They grinned and skated backwards slowly, towing Rory with them. "Let me know when I'm okay to let go?"

Rory blinked a few times.  "I have no idea what break means." Her grip tightened as they started moving, staring down at her feet as if that would stop her from tripping on the ice.  "Ask me that again in about a year, and maybe i'll be ready for you to let go." She let out a small laugh at herself, aware that she kind of sounded like she was a ten year old child again.(edited)

Abel snorted. "Well, you'll know by the end of this." They let go with one hand, but kept holding onto her with the other, still towing her around the ice. "Fine, fine. I'll keep a hold of you. Just follow my movements, alright?" They skated slowly so that Rory would be able follow their movements more easily.

As soon as one of her hands were dropped, it flew out in an attempt to balance herself, her lips pursing together in concentration at staying on her feet.  When Abel spoke up, she glanced up at him quickly, and nodded in acknowledgement before her gaze dropped back back down to their feet.  She watched their movements before attempting to make her own feet copy the rhythm, though it was far, far less graceful than Abel's were.   "Just don't let me fall, please Abes."

Abel chuckled, confident in their ability to lead Rory around. “I won’t,” they promised. “Just hold tighter if you feel like you’re gonna fall, I can support both of us. But, if I start going down too, just fall how you do when fighting, okay? Rather have a bruised butt than a broken wrist.”

Rory's nose scrunched up.  "Even that sucks, have you done those training warms up with a bruised butt?  Squats are a nightmare, and then I have Bailey laughing at me when I make faces." She rolled her eyes at the mentioning of her twelve year old sister, but the small smile gave away that it wasn't out of spite.  Losing focus on the ice, Rory's skate ran over a bump, it was small but enough to throw her off balance.  Instinctively, her body jerked quickly, causing her to tug Abel's hand in an attempt to right herself.

Abel laughed quietly at Rory's complaint. They enjoyed the stubborn, younger-sister-like way that she acted sometimes, but enjoyed more the fact that, despite that, she was always willing to go along with his plans. Such as now, when she was obviously less than enthusiastic, but still gave in and agreed to entertain their idea. "Bailey will laugh at you no matter what." They laughed and then shifted their weight easily, balancing them both enough to straighten them as they grabbed Rory's arm with their other hand. "We good?"

Rory looked up at Abel when they balanced both of them with ease, pouting slightly.  "Yeah, I think so."  In contrast, her hands tightened their grip, nervous that she was just going to randomly drop again.  "That's what I get for not paying attention, I guess." Straightening up, she tried to copy Abel's movements again, and couldn't help but laugh at the difference between them.  "Gods, how do you make this look so easy?  You're gliding around, and I look like a baby deer."

Abel shrugged as best as they could with one shoulder and smiled at Rory. "It's the nature of the ice. Lakes don't have a zamboni." They turned, moving them both, as they picked up speed, though only slightly. "Well, you'd probably make something look easy after doing it for eight years, right? Think of how you were with a sword five years ago."

"Gods, thanks for that memory that I didn't need." Rory laughed, wincing slightly at the memory of her early sword fighting days.  Handing a ten year old a wooden sword? Turns out, not the best idea.  "But you made your point."  She was distracted just enough that she didn't notice their small increase in speed, and her feet slowly started to pick up on the pattern, though still a bit wobbly.

Abel exhaled a laugh. They and Rory had gotten to camp within a few months of each other, so they were often put against each other for training exercises, especially considering both of their godly parents. "Isn't it nice to know that I have a point sometimes? Think of five years down the line when you're skating in the Olympics," they said with a grin.

Rory let out another laugh, adjusting her grip on Abel's hand in her own.  "Oh please, if either one of us is going to the Olympics, it's you, Abes.  I'll just be your own personal fan or something."  Over the past five years, Rory had gotten the hang of her wind powers, thanks to countless power lessons that always left her feeling exhausted and drained.  "You know, to always make your hair look fabulous and flowy and all that crap."

Abel laughed and shook their head. "Are you saying that my hair doesn't already look fabulous and flowy, Ror?" They continued to move slowly, aware of both of their movements so that she could follow easily and so that they could point out anything that she could work on. "You know, you're actually getting this pretty well. Are you sure you haven't been sneaking in some late night practices in preparation?"

Rory feigned shock, opening her eyes a little wider.  "What, me? Never, come on." Her fake shock turned to semi-real when she realized that they had sped up, and that her movements looked at least a hair less wobbly than the last few turns around the lake.  Though, she was still convinced she would fall flat as soon as Abel let her go. "Oh yeah, you caught me. I come out here at two in the morning to prepare myself for this exact moment."

Abel grinned and only didn't muss up Rory's hair so that they wouldn't give her a heart attack letting go of her. "Huh. I thought I'd see you while I'm also out at two AM practicing." They slowed down slightly. "Do you want to practice stopping, or just do another lap?"

Rory rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you would be out here that late?” She was still very uneasy about everything, but she trusted Abel to not let her hurt herself, and they always made her feel more relaxed and calm. Eyeing their feet warily, she decided she could use a change of pace. “Stopping would be nice. I don’t really want to resort to flinging myself into the snow to stop.”

"Because I don't sleep and can see in the dark?" Abel smiled and brought them to a stop, keeping their grip on Rory so that they could stop her when she started moving past them. "That can be plan B?" They laughed. "Okay, so I did something kinda dumb and stopped in a different way than the way that I'm going to teach you how to stop, but just bear with me, okay?" They'd never considered themself a teacher, but they found it easy enough to trade knowledge with Rory, like if she needed help with a spear or if they needed a reminder on what hero killed which monster. They appreciated the equal exchange that they had. "You're going to do it standing still, and just face me and hold my hands, alright? Normally people practice against a wall, but there isn't really a wall here. Just push your legs out, push down, and lean into the outer part of your foot, so you don't buckle."

Rory gripped Abel's arm when she started going past them, and let out a quiet breath when she stopped.  When they spun her to face them, she rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, that's it.  You're like a human opossum with those skills."  When they started to explain to her, she turned a bit more serious, nodding to show that she understand to mini lesson.  It was always easy to learn from Abel, she just understood their explanations easier than other people.  She moved her hand back to their hand, and started shuffling her feet around on the ice to try and replicate what they had described.  "Something like this?"

“You really know how to take me down a peg, Ror. I was thinking cat-like with reflexes and eyes and you compare me to vermin.” Abel laughed again and then watched her feet, keeping his grip tight on her hands. “Pretty good, yeah!” They beamed and then replicated what she was supposed to do. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, just push out. With this one, you’re just scraping off a small layer of ice and creating friction, so you’ll stop moving.”

Rory couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat.  "Gods, cat-like sounds way better than opossum.  Shit, that sounded way funnier in my head." As she spoke, she fixed her feet until she heard Abel's approval.  Glancing down, taking in both how they looked, and how her muscles felt for future purposes, then looked back up at them, beaming.  "I take everything back.  Forget the human fan, clearly we're going to the Olympics as a pair."

"It really does, but I expect nothing less from you." Abel flashed a quick smile and waited for Rory to test her breaking a few more times while they were standing still. "Amazing. I'm glad I can finally have someone to do lifts with me. You can balance me about your head, right?" They laughed and let go of one of her hands. "Do you want to practice stopping while actually... moving?"

Lifting her hand, Rory gently tapped her knuckles against the side of her head.  "Oh yeah, this ol' thing can handle that, easy."  She grinned, but it dimmed slightly at the idea of moving again, she had just gotten used to just standing on the skates without feeling like her knees were going to buckle.  Regardless, she let out a small breath, and looked back up at them before she nodded.  "Okay, yeah."

Abel mussed Rory’s hair with their free hand, no longer able to resist it, and then pulled her along as they started up again. “I’ll follow your lead. Tell me when you want to try stopping.” They smiled, but kept their focus on the ice. “So what’s up? In your whole life and things of that nature?”

Rory lifted a hand to halfheartedly slap Abel's away from her hair, too used to his antics to expect anything less.  Pouting slightly, she tried to smooth down the hairs that had been yanked lose from her braid thanks to their actions, but stopped when they started moving again.  Grabbing onto Abel's arm, Rory kept her eyes on the ice, trying to get some sense of the weird rhythm she had gotten into before stopping earlier.  It took her a minute to answer their questions, too focused on the motions of her feet.  "Same old, same old, really." She shrugged.  "Ambi's really settling in which is nice.  Though, our room is covered in hockey merch, it's unreal."

Abel smiled at Rory affectionately. They found it fairly easy to divide their attention between her and the ice, since skating was somewhat second nature to them at this point, not something they needed to concentrate on. They were happy to be showing Rory how to as well so that she would be able to accompany them without clinging to them, so that they could race and play games on the ice eventually. "That's great. I'm surprised I'm the one who's showing you around the ice instead of her. She trying to steal your place as my favourite cousin, I'll have you know. Told me that we needed to hang out and skate together sometime."

Rory let out a dramatic gasp at Abel's words.  "I'm offended, Abes.  Fives years together and all it takes to replace me is a few months? I'm hurt, honestly." Despite her words, there was a smile breaking out on her face, and she glanced up to look at them.  "I'm not surprised though, she's been enjoying running around and exploring the forests over anything else.  Besides, with how scattered brained both of us are when we're together?  It's better that you're teaching me."

“I am a fairly simple creature,” Abel sighed as they spoke, a smile playing at their lips. “I’m surprised my best friend is not a zamboni.” They laughed thinking about the newest addition to the Zeus cabin. “That’s true, you would think that putting the two of you together might give you somewhat more sense, but instead the nonsense just doubles. Are you sure that the two of you didn’t sprout from Zeus’s thoughts? It would explain the telepathic bond you seem to have.”

"Nope." She replied, popping the final syllable.  "Instead of making each other smarter, we just drag each other down to the mentality of a twelve year old on a sugar high half the time."  Rory laughed, shaking her head slightly as she looked back down at their feet.  Amber and herself had bonded extremely quickly, and as Abel said, they seemed to just understand each other easier than anyone else in camp.  "It would explain a lot wouldn't it?  Alex has started to call us the 'wonder twins' and everything."  After another few strides on the ice, Rory felt semi-prepared, though whether it was to properly stop, or just fall flat, she wasn't sure.  "Okay, I think I'm ready to try breaking.  That was the term for it, right?"

"Twelve?" Abel raised an eyebrow. "I think you're being a bit generous there. I was thinking more along the lines of... eight? That sounds right." They laughed. "Ah, Alex always has a way with words, don't they? What a descriptor. You could be the wonderful twins or the wonder-how-annoying-they-can-get twins." They gave a quick nod and slowed down slightly, loosening their grip on Rory so that she wouldn't have to work as hard to stop both of them. "Yep, breaking. Try it out."May 7, 2020

Rory swatted Abel's arm, feigning hurt.  "How fucking rude, we are not annoying, we're entertaining." She made a show of flipping her braid over her shoulder. "That's it, no more cupcake deliveries for you then."  Honestly, she was just buying herself some time at this point, still trying to work up the nerves to try breaking while actually moving.  Her instincts wanted to cling tighter to Abel when they loosened their hold, but she managed to convince herself not to.  Taking a few more strides, she finally felt comfortable enough and pushed her legs out.  Following the motions that they had showed her earlier, and while it wasn't the smoothest by any means, she actually managed to pull of a pretty decent break.  Once she came to a full stop, she looked up at Abel with a bright grin on her face, knowing that she did pretty well.

Abel laughed once again, their cheeks almost sore from how long the smile was plastered on their face for. "Entertaining, okay. I'll reevaluate my choice of vocabulary, then." They scoffed. "No more cupcakes? That is a fate worse than death!" They brought themself to a stop as Rory did, though using a different method so that they could focus on examining hers. "Amazing!" They beamed at her and patted her shoulder. "I should have a sign that says '10'. You're coming with me to the Olympics, definitely now. You're cool with repping South Africa, right?"

If possible, Rory's grin brightened even more under their praise, it felt extremely similar to a younger sibling getting praise from their older one.  "I don't know about that one, I don't know if I can pull off that accent."  She thought for a second, trying to think about Abel's accent before speaking again.  "How's thi- oh my gods." She dropped the accent almost immediately, and had to grip Abel's arm as she bent over laughing.  The accent was borderline terrible.

"Not everyone in South Africa has an accent, just tell 'em you don't speak Afrikaans." At her attempt, Abel snorted, shaking slightly as they laughed. "Oh my gods," they repeated after her, doing their best to keep her upright with them. "Please, may I request you never try that again."

Rory nodded her head, still laughing. "Done. Never again, I like your idea better."  Standing up straight, she looked back up at them, a few lingering chuckles slipping out of her as she talked.  "Okay, how do I start moving without being pulled by you?"

Abel took a moment to compose themself. "Just do what you were doing to propel yourself forward before. Same movement, you can just start us off this time."

Rory nodded, looking back down at her feet and shuffled them so they were in the correct positions for an easy push off.  Taking an extra minute to compose herself, she loosened her hold on Abel so that way she wouldn't rely too heavily on just shoving him forward and letting him propel her, but not enough that she was on her own.  She pushed off with one foot, and the two of them were off again, and Rory couldn't help but grin down at her feet again as she realized how smooth it was.

Abel followed Rory's lead, only skating once they were already pulled forward by her. If they were honest, they were fairly impressed with how quickly she was picking everything up. "Gods, you're a natural, huh? That was really good." They flashed a smile in her direction. "Are you and Amber going to start playing hockey now?"

"Oh gods, no way.  Ambi would just skate in circles around me." She was starting to feel more confident on the ice, and loosened her grip on Abel to try and slowly get herself used to not relying on their support the entire time.   When she didn't immediately crumple, she took it as a win and looked back up.  "Not to make your head bigger or anything, but clearly I just have the right teacher." Rory grinned up at them, and then her skate bumped off another imperfection on the lake, sending her off balance.   Unfortunately, she couldn't grip Abel's hand or arm in time to stop her fall, but she did manage to take the fall as if she was in a spar.  Once she stopped sliding, she let out a groan, and stayed there despite how cold the ice was.  "I take everything back, you suck."

Abel watched as their cousin skid across the ice away from them, concern causing their eyebrows to shoot up. Once she groaned, they clapped a hand over their mouth stifling a laugh as they skated to her side. They scoffed. "Um, I think this proves that you suck, not me." They skated in a circle around her before they extended a hand to her to help her up.

Rory looked up at Abel as they skated up to her.  "Weren't you just saying I was a natural? The fuck happened to that?" She reached up and took his hand, getting back up onto her feet with shaky legs.  Keeping her grip tight, she bent down to wipe from ice that was still clinging to her clothes.  "At least I didn't slide into the middle, right?"

Abel shook with quiet laughter as they grinned at her. "Have you ever seen Bambi? You're reminding me of him right now." They pulled her up and patted her head. "You're right. I don't feel like swimming today."

Rory flipped them off, standing up straight again once most of the ice was off of her clothing.  "I would be the one swimming, you'd be more like a fisherman than anything else."

Abel flipped her off right back and grinned. "Huh, maybe I can add ice fishing to a list of hobbies?"

"Maybe, but you're not practicing on me, that's for damn sure." The amusement was already seeping back into her voice, and without warning she pushed off again, it wasn't as smooth as it was last time, her legs still shaking slightly from the impact onto the ice, but she stayed on her feet.

"Fine, fine." Abel grinned at Rory, followed her lead, and kept their grip on her. They longed to be able to pick up speed and start zipping around the ice, but they figured they could wait just a little longer for her to actually feel comfortable on her skates before they tried to get her to do any of that. "How about a few more laps and then we can take a rest or something. Your legs are gonna be killer sore tomorrow, sorry Ror."

"Yeah sure, sounds good."  Rory knew what she was getting herself into by agreeing to the lesson, but couldn't deny that she could already tell how sore she was going to be after it was over.   She let her feet fall back into the rhythm that she was starting to pick up on, it seemed like it was more put together and graceful than before.  Once she got comfortable with it, she slowly loosened her hold on Abel to try and balance on her own.  She did a full lap mostly on her own feet, and couldn't hide the smile that started growing on her face.

Abel grinned, mostly looking at Rory, but making sure to check for any imperfections in the ice. They kept their grip on her almost nonexistent, but still there, so she could grab them if she fell.

Rory only had to grab onto Abel once or twice they made a few more laps, and while she wasn't ready to jump into the world of speed skating, she was able to stay up on her own.  She started slowing down, then transitioned into a break, looking back up at them when she was fully stopped on the ice.  "Okay, I'm good for a break now." She looked between Abel and the ice.  "If you want to do a few laps without me hanging off of you, go for it."

Abel came to a stop next to Rory. They sucked their cheeks in as they thought. “I’ll do two. They’ll be quick. Probably done before you’re finished taking your skates off.”

Rory rolled her eyes, a light smile on her face.  "Don't worry about me, go for it."  She started to untie her skates, looking up when she saw Abel still standing there, and waved her hands in a shooing motion.  "Go, Abes."

Abel smiled at her and blew a kiss in her direction as they started off. “I’ll be quick!” They darted around the ice, picking up speed so that they could launch themself into the air, spinning as they did. They managed a fairly good landing, then spun around a few more times to get it out of their system. They did one more quick lap around before they skated back to Rory and crouched next to her, smiling widely with red cheeks. “Thanks.”

Rory looked up as she untied her skates, happy to watch Abel in their element.  She cheered when they landed the jump, and applauded when Abel returned to where she was.  "That was great!  Gold medal for sure."

Abel sat heavily on the snowy shore as they stuck their legs out in front of them. They grinned. "Yeah? Did you make sure to add all the theatrics? Can you produce a lightning storm next time I try the double axle?"

Rory waved her finger in a circle, kicking up a small blast of wind to smack into Abel's face and mess up their hair.  Laughing, Rory pulled off her final skate. "Oh yeah, wind effects are always ready to go."  Her nose scrunched up slightly as they teased her, she had been slowly trying to figure out her electricity powers, but it wasn't coming to her as naturally as her wind powers always did.  "Maybe give me some time before we try a lightning strike? Though can I just run through the judges and zap them? They'll get goose bumps or something and just think it's because of your creative genius."

Abel picked up their hand as if they could stop or deflect the blast of wind sent their way. "Ugh." They laughed and smoothed out their hair as they drew their legs in to start taking off their skates. "Perfect! Or you can full blast them if I don't get a good enough score, right?"

"Oh! That's a great idea, we'll go with that one." Rory was not full of herself by any means, but she knew that five years of training with her powers made her a force to be reckoned with.  "Like, 'You gave them a 6.5? Bam!" She lifted her hand and aimed it at a tree covered in snow.  At the bam, she sent a blast of wind at it, knocking a majority of the snow off of it and onto the ground.

Abel leaned their hands back in the snow and laughed. “Shoot the bones straight out of people’s bodies for a 6.5. I’ll be the new Tonya Harding.”

Rory snorted, curling her legs underneath her.  Holy Zeus, the were already sore, she's screwed tomorrow.  "A Tonya Harding that would get away with it, there'll be no proof linking it to us, after all. We'd be an olympic era Bonnie and Clyde." She was silent for a minute then scrunched her nose.  "Except for you know all the -" She waved her hand around as if that explained everything.

Abel tossed their head back as they laughed. "The olympic era zodiac killers?" they suggested, pulling off one skate and working on the other. "Or... I could just train up really well so we don't have to destroy the judges. Let's just work on blowing my hair around and static shocks, huh?"

Rory snapped her fingers and pointed at Abel. "Yes, that was what I was looking for. Zodiac killers, way cooler."  Realizing how ridiculous this conversation had turned, Rory brought her forehead down to her knees, laughing into her lap.  "We're so fucking dumb."  It took a few minutes for her to compose herself enough to finally lean back into the snow like her cousin. She wiggled her legs slightly and frowned at how noodle-ly they felt.  "Why did you let me sit down? I don't think I'm going to be able to get up again."

Abel snorted, having to take a moment before they managed to pull off their other skate. "We? I think you're the dumb one here, saying that we can not get caught and then referencing Bonny and Clyde. I'm your cousin, Ror, that's kinda gross." They laughed again, obviously teasing her, and grabbed their boots to start pulling them on. "I don't think you're going to be able either, since that's my job."

Rory rolled her eyes.  "Hey, you're the one that decided you wanted to be the next Tonya Harding, I'm just being a supportive cousin, and you know what? You're welcome for that."   As Abel continued, she was silent, processing exactly they had just said.  When it clicked, she let out a loud groan, and dropped down to fully lay in the snow, grateful for the puffy coat she was wearing as soon as she made contact.  "I cannot believe you just said that, you sound like you're fucking fifty years old or something with that dad humor."

Abel laughed and tied the laces of their skates together so that they could hold them like that, then stood, looking down at Rory. "Thank you for being ready to support me busting kneecaps rather than trying to talk me out of it, I know who to come to when I need to bury a body." They grinned down at her, extending a hand to offer to help her out. "What can I say? I'm sixteen on the outside, but on the inside I am an old, withering dad."

Laughing, Rory reached up and grabbed Abel's hand to pull herself up onto her feet.  "Just on the inside? Okay, sure. We'll go with that."  Bending down to pick up her own skates, her face morphed into one of discomfort at the protesting of her legs.  "Gods, I feel like it's my first month of training workouts all over again."

Abel snorted and rolled their eyes. "Yes, only on the inside, dick." They smiled a bit and shrugged. "You'll get used to it the more you come out with me. So you'll get used to it, right?" They raised their eyebrows expectantly.

Rory sigh dramatically, linking her arm through theirs.  "I suppose I'll have to get used to it, then."  She looked up at Abel, her smile and the small twinkle in her eyes similar to how a girl would look up her older sibling.

[moss-sauce]

i finally finished the bit abt aura lmao

“Wait. Why are we here again?”

A defeated, exasperated sigh. “Same reason I told you a few hours ago: we’re looking for the Dreamer here.”

“Where are they?”

“According to our local genius,” sarcasm laced Hawk’s tone as he side-glared at Blitz, “in ‘the Beast’s Den’.”

“‘The Beast’?” Hum sounded on the verge of nervous.

“Indeed,” Blitz interjects loudly before Hawk can snap at her further. “The Dreamer there is Herrah the Beast. Hence the name.” He narrows his eyes and glares back at Hawk as he explains, subtly, so Hum doesn’t notice.

“Oh,” Hum murmurs. “Wait. Didn’t you say something about the Distant Village? Why are we back in Deepnest, then?”

“The only way to the Village is through Deepnest, unfortunately.” Blitz shudders dramatically as he speaks. Hawk rolls his eyes. 

“Why don’t we get back on our way, instead of chattering?” Hawk phrases the question more like a statement. Blitz sighs to himself, though kneels down and offers a ride for Hum, who takes up his offer gleefully. May as well keep her in a good mood, since someone’s a lost cause already, he thinks.

“Blitz? Didn’t we meet you in Deepnest? What were you doing here? Were you looking for Herrah, too?” Hum’s voice pipes up from above him.

“You did, in fact,” he confirms lightly. “I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, however. Just a bout of bad luck left me stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I got so horribly lost that I resigned to staying here.” Hawk snorts loudly, despite himself. Blitz elects to ignore him. “This place is awfully...unsettling and eerie when you’re alone. Fortunately, you two have each other on your adventure. I hope you never have to go through things on your own, let alone traversing Deepnest.”

“We won’t!” Hum chirps. “Plus we have you, now!” Hawk mutters a low “joyous” to himself. “Hawk!” She snaps.

“What?” he snaps back.

“Straighten yourself up!” The sibling bickering, while some would find it irritating and draining, is overly amusing to the rogue warrior. Especially when the vessel half the size of her brother tries to speak sternly to him.

“Forgive me. I forgot it was very easy to hurt Blitz’s feelings,” Hawk spits without looking up from the map in his hands. Hum’s fingers dig into the hood covering Blitz’s head as she holds in her own remark. Blitz can’t help but chuckle. Hawk either doesn’t hear, or doesn’t care.

They wander in comfortable (though, between Hawk and Blitz, tense and irritable) silence. Hum starts to nod off on Blitz’s back.

“Hey,” Hawk grabs his attention. “Do you see that?” His hand points further down the path. Blitz narrows his eyes and peers forward.

The fungal-like plants that had managed to take root in the murky underground’s rough terrain let off a dim pink glow, though not enough to reliably light the paths ahead. Still, in a small patch of them, the silhouette of a figure could be made out.

“I do,” he responds slowly. “I can go ahead and confront them.”

“You will not,” Hawk snarls before the sentence is even out completely.

“Oh? You suddenly care for my well-being?” Blitz snarks light-heatedly.

Hawk positively glares daggers at him. “No. I care for her well-being,” he snaps quietly, nodding to a still-dozing Hum.

“Hm. Fair, I suppose.”

“I’ll go. Stay alert, but don’t get close enough for her to get hurt.”

“Be brave, O fierce vessel!”

Carefully, Hawk treads down the unfamiliar path, his spear-like nail out and ready. The ambient bustling of other unknown creatures skittering endlessly elsewhere cover his feather-light footsteps well enough. 

“Halt!” A voice, coming from the figure, booms out. A razor-sharp dagger whizzes just past Hawk’s head, searing by close enough for Blitz to feel the reflexive need to lean out of the way.

“Uh?” Hawk squawks.

“Wait!” Blitz yells back. He knew that voice.

“What?” Hawk yells back as he backpedals.

“Who?” The figure calls back.

“You!” Blitz hollers.

“Me?” Hawk asks incredulously.

“No! Them!”

A Belfly screeches as it reveals its glowing orange belly, and darts towards him.

“MOVE!” Hawk demands at him.

“Ror! No!” The stranger snaps. The Belfly, miraculously, halts in its tracks and cocks its head to the side.

“Aura?” Blitz pipes up hopefully.

“Blitz?” The shadow calls back. Their arms lower from their defensive position where they were ready to pitch more daggers if needed.

“Huh?” Hum grumbles groggily from her perch.

“Aura!” Blitz calls again. “Thought it’d be a good while before we met again, eh?”

“Indeed!” The figure, Aura, begins to stroll towards them. Hawk stays on guard (not because he was ready to protect Blitz, that imbecile) as they near. Blitz keeps one arm wrapped around Hum’s legs to hold her steady, extending the other for a friendly handshake. Aura extends an arm as well, clapping her palm firmly into Blitz’s.

“Two questions, if you don’t mind. Even if you do,” Hawk interrupts. They both swivel to him. “Firstly: you know him? Like...friends? Not gonna harm us?”

“Gods, no! I’d never harm a friend!” Aura ensures. “Especially an old friend with what appears to be precious cargo in tow,” she nods up at Hum, who’s struggling to stay awake.

“Fine. Secondly: you know...that?” Hawk points his spear to the Belfly, which had taken to dangling precariously from the ceiling of the tunnel, still peering curiously at them. “Also. That’s not his cargo. She’s with me,” he corrects.

“Yes!” Aura nods, her eyes squinting as she smiles widely. “That would be Ror. Ror, come!” she barks as she extends another (another?) set of hands towards the creature. To their surprise, the Belfly flits down and lands primly in her palm, ruffling itself a few times before settling. Its caretaker reaches up to gently scritch under its chin, which Ror leans into comfortably. “Ror here assists me with a few things down here. Very good at his job. Good company.”

By now, Hum has perked up at the prospect of not one, but two new friends. “He’s nice?” she asks hopefully.

“Oh, yes,” Aura lifts Ror higher into the air and tilts her hand upside-down, letting him dangle once again. For his part, Ror holds on steadily. “Ror here does quite a bit for me. He helps distract some of those rather unfriendly critters you come across down here so I and whoever else can get by, and he retrieves things for me, like my throwing daggers. In return, I keep him safe and happy.”

“He fetches?” Both Hawk and Hum ask, one voice filled with awe and another filled with disgust.

Wordlessly, Aura rights Ror on her palm once more and holds him in the direction of the first and only dagger that had been thrown their way. Immediately Ror darts through the air, swooping down to snatch up the dagger before returning to Aura and carefully depositing it in a waiting, empty hand, before happily returning to perch on the hand.

“Woah!” Hum blurts out. “That’s cool!”

“Rather talented, this little guy is,” Aura comments. She reaches so Ror is within range of Hum. “Go ahead, scritch his chin. He loves it.” 

With the least amount of hesitation Hum has ever done anything with, she reaches a tiny, inky black hand to carefully nudge under the Belfly’s mask. Ror leans into it eagerly, chirping in a pleasant manner.

“Listen, your…’pet’ is cute and all,” Hawk interjects, “but we really need to be on our way. Plus, you’re giving her ideas that she absolutely does not need.”

“Will you just be nice, Hawkers? Please?” Hum asks as exasperatedly as she can. “She’s being nice to us.”

Hawk throws a half-hearted glare toward his sibling, before slumping his shoulders in defeat.

“So! What brings you and your little party here, Blitz?” Aura steps in. She purposely avoids addressing a broody Hawk to their side. Ror is still soaking up the attention Hum is so willingly giving him.

“On our way to find ourselves a Dreamer, I reckon,” Blitz drawls.

“What for, pray tell?”

“I haven’t probed too much into it. It’s more their idea, their thing,” he nods towards the siblings.

“Ah, I see.” Aura pauses. “Presumably you’re looking for Herrah, then? In the Distant Village?”

“Yeah!” Hum pipes.

“I’m somewhat familiar with the Village’s layout. Would be better than wandering aimlessly, much less in a place like Deepnest.” She rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “If you’ll have my company, I could help get you three there.”

“Of course!” Blitz assures.

“‘Of course!’” Hawk parrots. “Let’s add more to our supposed ‘duo’ on their adventure! Why not! Let’s find some Mantises and ask them if they’d like to come with us too! Why not Quirrel? And some Nailsmiths? What about a Moss Creeper? Hum likes them!” He’s started stomping his way down the tunnel, slowly growing less vibrant but just as irate.

“Hawk’s just grumpy in general,” Hum assures Aura. “He doesn’t not not like you. He’s like a grumpy old man.”

“Now, not all old men are grumpy,” Blitz smirks. “Elderbug back in Dirtmouth is very patient and kind to travelers.”

“You’re right!” Hum pips. 

“He will warm up to you at some point, if you plan on sticking around long enough,” Blitz leans towards the firefly and whispers. “He hated my guts when we first encountered one another. I mean, he probably still does, but he’s less vocal about it.” Both him and Aura chuckle. “Plus, you’re already on great terms with his little sister. That’s an added bonus to your tally.”

“I’ll have to...think about it, I guess,” Aura answers hesitantly. “There’s not exactly that many travelers still trying to get through these creepy tunnels anymore, so I wouldn’t be awfully missed.”

“We’ll leave you to it. However, I must say: Hum here,” he shrugs his shoulders to get Hum’s attention, “makes excellent flower crowns. Top-notch quality. Sure to rival even any of the jewelry the royalty wore in its prime.”

“Oh?” Aura exaggerates her interest. “You’ve caught my attention, then. I shall have to stay long enough to get my hands on one,” she smiles. Hum beams back at the two of them. “Come, now, lest your brother lose his way while on his grumpy-old-man rant.”

[hannahmcne]

Better Left Unsaid - Harry Potter

**Another one of my old works that everyone seems to really L.O.V.E**

______________________________________________________________

Ginevra Molly Weasley was tired.

Tired of waiting for the country to get back on its feet. Tired of studying for the N.E.W.T.S., but most of all tired of waiting for Harry Potter to notice her. She had been waiting and trying and hoping and praying for AGES. But nothing worked. He showed no signs of interest in her or anyone else. It was absolutely infuriating.

She wanted to be Mrs. Harry Potter. She wanted it so bad her heart ached. But Harry cleverly deflected any and all attempts at romance.

Today she was also tired from the Quidditch game that had taken place. Gryffindor had played hard, won, and was following tradition and staying up till past midnight, celebrating their win against Hufflepuff. The room was comprised entirely of members of the lion house, with the exception of Luna Lovegood, who Neville had invited.

Speak of the devil, Neville was waving her over to a secluded corner with his girlfriend, her brother, and Harry and Hermione. Ginny walked over and put on a tired smile. "What are you doing?" She asked conversationally.

"We're gonna play a game," Neville said, extracting a watered down vial of veritaserum. "Truth or dare. Are you in?"

Ginny nodded. "Sure. I'll play." She sat down on the three-person couch next to Harry. Hermione was on his other side. Ron was in the plush armchair while Luna curled up next to Neville on the loveseat. "All right, I'll start," Ron said. They passed around the potion vial so everyone got two drops before he said. "Harry, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to make it to the top of the girl's staircase in under a minute, starting now."

Harry glared at the staircase and said "Fine." He ran up to the boy's dormitories and came back with his Firebolt. He flew up the stairs with ten seconds to spare.

"Neville, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"How many girls have you had crushes on?" Hermione rolled her eyes at the standard question.

"Two. Hermione and Luna." Luna kissed him on the cheek. "Ginny, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What was the worst prank the twins ever pulled on you?"

Ginny blushed scarlet and looked at her feet. "They sent some of my undergarments to Dean while we were dating. It was soooo embarrassing."

And Ginny, being the lovesick teenager she was, turned around to Harry and said "Harry, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

She thought for a moment and then decided on a question that could really go either way. "What is your most hidden and protected secret?"

She saw Harry immediately start to try and fight off the veritaserum. "Dare." He said.

Ginny smirked and told him "I dare you to Tell us your most hidden and protected secret."Hermione sighed. "I'm sure Harry has a perfectly respectable reason for not telling us and anyway, isn't that prying a bit?"

Ginny shrugged. "It's part of the game."

Harry was pale now, shaking. "I chicken. Okay, I chicken."

"There aren't any chickens," Luna said from her place by Neville. "We never allowed them."

"Can I forfeit?"

"No."

The potion was slowly ebbing him on. "Ok." He said suddenly. Hermione fidgeted beside him. "But you have to promise never to tell anyone. Do you understand?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. She was now interested. "I promise." "So do we." "Me too, mate."

Harry chewed on the inside of his lip. The potion was eating away at him, trying to get him to reveal the secret. "Not here. Someone could overhear. Come on."

He grabbed his school bag and pulled the Marauder's map out of it. "Come on. The path to the ROR is clear." He grabbed Hermione's arm and together they led us out of the common room, down the four flights of moving stairs, and to the seventh floor, all with Harry fighting the potion. They walked with purpose like they knew exactly where they were going, and no one asked. They walked together three times in front of the wall and a heavy oak door appeared. It was not one Ginny had ever seen before. The D.A. Headquarters door was made of a pliable pine, and The Place Where All Things Are Hidden was made of planks nailed together. Hermione opened the door.

The inside resembled a small flat. It had tasteful black, white, and blue carpet in an abstract circle pattern, large armchairs, and a fake window toward the back. To the left was a small kitchen area with a double stove, marble counter top, and stainless steel appliances. To the right were three doors. The one in the middle was closed. The one on the left looked to be some kind of bathroom, with Egyptian sinks and a two person bathtub. The door on the right was a master bedroom, with a giant, two person bed.

On the walls were pictures of Harry and Hermione. A couple had them in weird positions. Some with their arms hanging out around nothing or held out straight in front of them. Harry noticed me looking.

"it's all a huge Fedelius charm. You haven't been told the secret yet, so those will seem a bit out of place to you. To me, they look normal. Oh well. Here goes nothing." He sat down in a big white rocking chair and invited us all to have a seat.

He seemed to take a deep breath and then took Hermione's hand. "Hermione and I are married." Ginny's heart stopped. Ron, Neville, and Luna immediately started asking "Since when?" "How come we weren't invited?" Ext, Ext. Ginny's whole life stopped and it was all she could do to keep from curling into a ball and breaking down. "We were soul-bonded in our second year and have legally been a wedded couple since then. Now that you know that secret you will be able to see our rings." And sure enough, there were rings on their wedding fingers now. Harry's was a simple gold band , but Hermione's was white and had a blue diamond molded into the top. It was gorgeous. Ginny could sell everything she owned and not cover a fourth of the cost of that ring.

"We had to keep it secret because there are some people-"

"Albus Dumbledore." Hermione interjected.

"Who would terminate the marriage by killing Hermione." Harry finished.

There were collective gasps around the room. "Kill her?" "Albus Dumbledore?" "No way. No bloody stinking way." Even Ginny was in shock. Albus Dumbledore, the leader of light, surely wouldn't go as far to kill someone because they were connected to Harry Potter? But now Hermione was looking exactly at her. "He wanted Harry to marry you Ginny. He started spiking him with love potions in our sixth year. He even used the imperious on him to get him to kiss you. Dumbledore wanted Harry to settle down with a respectable pureblood woman, preferably one who was guaranteed to have lots of children. And you look similar to Lily. That about sold the deal."

Harry nodded regrettably.

"So," Ginny said, her voice cracking. "That's your most well-kept secret?"

"No." Hermione said. She opened her mouth to go on, but at that exact moment the closed door in between the bathroom and what could now safely be assumed as Harry and Hermione's room. A small boy with raven black hair, green eyes, and a slight bucktooth peeked into the room. Hermione turned and gestured for him to come into the room. He ran over and clambered up onto his mother's lap. He was dressed in snitch patterned pajamas, and had a magical barrier around his eyes. Probably helping him see until they can get him some glasses, Ginny thought. And her heart promptly shattered into a billion non-fixable pieces. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Conquered, was happily married and it wasn't to her.

Hermione held the small boy close and kissed him on the head. "This is Theodore James Potter. He was born on April 9th of our fifth year."

"You were pregnant during fifth year?" Luna asked confusedly.

Hermione nodded. "I used disillusionment charms and notice-me-not charms to hide it. Two days before the ministry break in, my water broke and I claimed that I'd had a major breakthrough in the library. Harry said he was going to go do his potions homework. I had Theo that night. "

Harry butted in. "This time around, we have wards surrounding her."

Ginny managed to open her mouth and gather enough courage to ask "Are you pregnant?" Hermione nodded happily. Harry put an arm around her and placed a hand on her stomach. It took all Ginny's willpower not to cry.

"Bloody hell. Who is his godfather?"

Harry laughed. "You are Ron. And we named Ginny as another guardian if we die. You are the first after Ron, so I guess that makes you godmother, if that's alright?"

Ginny nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Can I hold my godson?" Hermione leaned down to the boy and said "you want to go to Aunt Ginny? Go on."

"Gimmy." He hopped of Hermione's lap and ran to Ginny. He held his arms up and said "uppie uppie up up up!" Ginny smiled despite herself and picked him up. It was only after he started slurping on his three middle fingers that she realized something had happened to Hermione. Her stomach was larger. Hermione caught Ginny looking and said "I'm 5 months along now. You just learned our biggest, most well-kept secret, so all the spells and wards have dropped towards you."

The pictures on the wall, where Harry and Hermione had had their arms out in space now had them with their arms around Theo's shoulders. Some with them hugging him. Others with Harry holding him on his shoulders. Harry was right. It didn't look out of place at all.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner, mate?"

"Because of Dumbledore, and Umbridge, and Voldemort. Even after Voldemort was gone Death eaters continued to wreak havoc on the wizarding world. We would have told you but had to keep him safe."

There was silence for several long moments, except for the slurping of Theo.

"Ginny, are you ok?" Hermione said. Ginny smiled. "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

Harry cleared his throat and said "Hermione, truth or dare?"

Everyone groaned. "I think we're all done with that right now, Harry." Neville said. He yawned and picked up a half asleep Luna who gasped in surprise and said: "Put me down!" The two left after biding them all good night.

Ron kissed Theo's forehead before he left. Hermione opened her arms for the child, but Ginny smiled and said "I'll put him to bed." It gave her an excuse to get away from the two. She picked him up (he was very light) and carried him to his room. He took his fingers out of his mouth and said "Aumt Gimmy."

She smiled.

"Aunt Ginny has to go. She'll be back later if your momma lets me."

Theo nodded. "Nah, night."

"Goodnight."

She closed the door, thanked Harry and Hermione for letting her stay, and headed for the door.

"Ginny, if you ever want to come by and see us or him, the password is snitch. Just think it after you get our door to appear."

She nodded and closed the door. It wasn't till she was up in her room with her face buried in the pillows that she cried all her tears for her lost dreams with Harry Potter.

______________________________________________________________

Ginny woke up feeling better. For as long as she had been crushing on Harry Potter, it certainly didn't take her long to get over him. She did her makeup, brushed her hair, and decided to go see her godson. She actually skipped down the steps to the ROR, and thought the password before going in.

Theodore was sitting on the couch, looking at the pictures in a children's book. He looked up when she walked in. "Where's your mum and dad?" He pointed at the closed door to their bedroom. She nodded and said "Let's not wake them then. Do you want to help me cook breakfast?"

His little green eyes lit up and he nodded. He closed his book and scampered up to the bar. "Aumt Gimmy!" He loudly whispered. "Aumt Gimmy!"

"Here, can you call me Gin? Is that easier?"

"Aumt Gim."

"I guess not then." She chuckled as she checked the freezer. It was stocked with steaks, seafood, sausages, tenderloins, vegetables, hash-browns and other frozen goods. The fridge had fruit, veggies, some breads, some muggle drinks called coca cola and sprite that she did not recognize, and perishable goods.

"What do you want?" Ginny asked.

"Bagon!"

"Bacon?"

"Bagon! Bagon!"

She pulled out a pack of opened bacon and turned on the stove. Hermione had a kitchen directory spellotaped to the tabletop (probably for Harry), so it was easy to find what she needed. She made scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, and was starting pancakes when Hermione came in. "Morning Ginny." She said yawning.

"Morning Hermione."

"How long have you been up?"

Ginny glanced at the clock. It was 7:03 "Ten minutes maybe."

Hermione nodded. "Sorry we took so long. Last night took a lot out of us. Harry's just getting dressed. Ginny nodded. She stared without looking at Hermione's stomach. "I've got to go finished getting ready for the day."

Hermione nodded. "Ok, see you later."

Theo stood up on his chair and yelled "Bye bye!" Ginny waved to him and stepped out of the door. She walked down the hall, lost in thought. She was so lost in thought, she didn't even notice someone walking toward her with a large pile of books. They crashed headlong into them, and Ginny, the books, and the someone (a tall and handsome Ravenclaw boy) fell tumbling to the ground.

"I'm sorry!" Ginny cried. "I was just lost in thought and wasn't paying attention!"

The boy shook his head. "No it was my fault. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, here, I'll help you pick up all your books." She reached for a couple and made a stack in front of him. He nodded and started collecting them. They had a considerable stack between them when they both reached for the last book. Their hands brushed gently together and a small spark shot up their arms. Ginny looked up and met his eyes. He had funny eyes, one was blue and the other green. They blended brilliantly with his brownish hair and lighter skin. They were beautiful.

Ginny subconsciously handed him the book and they both stood. He gazed at her a moment and she felt her cheeks turn red. "What's your name?" He asked curiously.

"Ginevra. People call me Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

He nodded. "Ginny." He said feeling the word roll of his tongue. "My name is Darin. Darin Collander." He studied her a moment longer. "Ginny, I know this is sudden, but would you like to accompany me on the next Hogsmeade trip?" Ginny nodded rapidly. "I'd love to!"

"Good." He said smiling. "I'll see you later then." He picked up his books and continued down the hall, glancing back at her every few steps. Ginny wrapped her arms around herself and stole some glances back at him. When their gazes met before they both turned a corner she waved shyly back at him. Ginny then leaned against the wall, her heart racing. Maybe if she hurried and got dressed and made it to the Great Hall he would be there? She took off running down the hall.

Ginny didn't know it, but she had just found her future husband.

**Again, it’s really old I wrote it years ago.***