#we got the angst up in here

[whumpasaurus101]

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then help me understand!" Caretaker begged, "Please, for the love of god, help me understand, Whumpee, because I'm losing you with every day that goes on."

[gentlebeard]

Our love was made for movie screens

For @saltpepperbeard 💕 Show: Our Flag Means Death - Season 1 & 2 Music: All I Want by Kodaline YouTube

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Cannot Unsee. Cannot Unknow.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 14- taking these wounds to their grave

"I'm battered and broken, my spirit's been stolen, but I'm taking these wounds to their grave. Surrounded by allies with fire in their eyes, for the past I don't need to deny." -Relentless by The Nearly Deads

Masterlist Part 13

In all honesty, learning his girlfriend was a Queen Regent for a different realm wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to him. Sure, being told that ‘hey, by the way, we forced this substance that tastes like pop-rocks and sprite down your throat to save you from dying again’ was on that list too, but Jason had fucking died. His death was brutal, no doubt, but the weirdest part was the fact that he had been a Revenant the moment he awoke in his coffin. 

A vengeful spirit unable to move on. 

Forced to wander the earth until their reason for clinging to the mortal realm is satisfied. 

It hurt his heart in a phantom reminder of what he had suffered the same day Joker had been brutally murdered, the pain off what had been his second death due to his ‘reason’ being satisfied. 

(It hurt more to realize that he had never needed Bruce to kill Joker.)

(It had all been for nothing.) 

Jazz was quiet where she was tucked up against him in the large medical bed the Yeti had treated him in, not yet asleep by her breathing but calmly existing with him in this space. 

It was everything he needed. 

Jazz was truly the other half of his soul, the one he was meant to find. 

(She avenged him.) 

(She saved him.) 

He would marry Jasmine Nightingale aka the Regent of the Realms aka Lady of the Acropolis, he would be her staunchest supporter as the world keeps turning around them. What else is he meant to do in the face of her overwhelming love for him? 

(She avenged him.) 

(She saved him.) 

They still had more to discuss and Jason would continue to swallow down the question that began with ‘Will you’ and ended with ‘Marry me’ amidst the others he needed answers for. They’d only been dating a month, so it would be a while before Jason was comfortable even allowing thoughts of matrimony to blossom from seed to full bloom. 

(He wanted everything with her.) 

(His Lady.) 

(The Lady to his Knight.) 

(Jason Nightingale had a nice ring to it.)

Jason kissed the top of Jazz’s head and pulled her further onto his chest before he fell back asleep, content with having his lady in his arms again. 

Bruce wanted to laugh and cry in equal measure as he studied the pictures of his wayward son with his girlfriend, laughing, smiling, in love. Oh, Bruce could tell how smitten Jason was by how he looked so fondly at Jasmine Nightingale, the civilian his son had chosen to build a relationship with. On paper, they shared a common love of reading (Jason was classical literature, Jasmine was psychological thrillers), and an excellence at school (Jasmine had a 4.0 gpa), but there was little else to draw them together. 

Yet, despite this, the two were happy together. They were in love. His son was in love. 

And he was missing. 

(Bruce swallowed down the grief at Jason being dead…again.)

(He’d been missing before, he’ll turn up.)

It was worrying that the sub-dermal tracker stopped working while Jason was at Jasmine’s apartment, but there had been no immediate sign that they’d been caught in the explosion or remained trapped in the debris. 

Phantom had vanished almost as soon as he entered, no doubt on the trail of what had disturbed the spirit’s haunt so violently. It was concerning how competent the child ghost was at fighting, how angry Phantom became when there was a threat he had to face. Insult, demean, threaten him and the boy laughed it off with a casual grace that spoke of experience, but turn that attention to the people he claimed as his? No chance in the infinite realms that he wouldn’t find you. Constantine had been adamant to leave the spirit alone, to let him exist in his way, but the Magician often went out of his way to let others deal with his messes, so Bruce often took his advice with far more than a grain of salt. 

\B, Phantom’s back. He says Hood is fine./

Relief coursed through the big bat, untightening the knot in his chest. Jason was fine. He is fine. 

His eyes drifted back to the pictures splashed across the bat computer, the adoration in Jason’s gaze as he focused on his girlfriend was the common theme between all the candid shots Barbara had shared. Jasmine always leaned into his frame or held his hand, just sharing his space, body language comfortable and open. 

(He could have a daughter-in-law very soon.)

(Maybe even a grandchild.)

Bruce let a smile slowly stretch across his face at the idea of being a grandfather, of finally retiring from the cowl and WE to be doting on a granddaughter or grandson, spending time with his family while he was still able to in this life.

(A part of him squealed and clapped at the very thought of more family gracing these once-empty halls.)

But first, he had to talk to his son and meet his future daughter-in-law.

Bruce was about to activate his comms, to have Tim get more information about Jason, but an urgent message from Diana, demanding he’s needed in the Watch Tower. 

Constantine was summoning the Ghost King. 

Phantom had in fact left the apartment building. 

Jazz’s familiar teal-tinted portal opened for him to step through while he investigated and he didn’t waste any time crossing over to the Realms to where Jazz awaited him. 

And there she was, arms outstretched and awaiting him to embrace her. 

“Thank the Ancients!” Phantom exclaimed, diving into her waiting arms to wrap around his big sister, their different temperatures ignored in favor of communicating his relief with chirps and trills. 

Worry. Safe. Concern. RELIEF. Protect? 

Jazz clutched him tighter to her, nuzzling his soft white hair as she chirped back. 

Safe. Relief. Guilty. LOVE. 

At least Jazz would never fail to communicate her love for him, even while trying to reassure him she was okay. 

Phantom’s core purred and Jazz’s Proto-core echoed it, albeit weaker in frequency. They stayed like that, hugging each other right outside the tribe’s boundary for a while before Jazz spoke. 

“Little brother, we have to talk.” 

Those words beginning a conversation often led to him being angry or upset, but Jazz hadn’t needed him to be so serious for quite a while.  

“Hmm?” 

She shifted her weight a bit, readjusting her grip around Phantom’s form.

“It’s about Jason…I told him about me.” 

“As in,” Phantom began, pulling back from the hug, “you told him about Amity and…me?” 

Jazz puffed out a sigh, a wisp of breath in a mockery of his ghost sense hanging in the air between them. 

“I told him about us being ecto-contaminated, me being the most liminal being and all, but I told him I wouldn’t share your secrets.”

Phantom grinned, “Good because it’s about time I gave him a shovel talk.” 

“No, little brother.” Jazz got a pained look on her face for a moment as the frosty air grew tense. A summoning and a painful one at that. “Phantom-” 

“Go, I’ll talk to your boyfriend.” 

“Be nice, not bitchy nice.” 

“I’m always nice!”  

He only received a scoff before Jazz was dragged along by the summoning, a brief flash of her armor appearing signaling it was a serious situation. Phantom did not envy the idiot who tried to summon the Ghost King only to get the Regent instead. 

Speaking of idiots, Phantom had a Liminal to lecture and threaten. 

“Hurt her and I’ll shove you into a thermos, mix you into a smoothie, and drink you for breakfast.”

“Creative.” 

With that out of the way, Phantom floated over to Jason’s side and poked his stomach. 

“You doing ok?” He questioned, concern for his fellow vigilante bleeding through. Sure, he cared about Jason the human, but Red Hood was infinitely cooler. 

“Yeah, kid. I’m doing good.” Jason shuffled a bit more towards the center of the large cot, “You’re Danny Nightingale.” It was definitely not meant to be an accusation, Phantom was sure, but it sure felt like one. 

The ghost kid nodded, “I’m a Halfa, half-ghost and half-human. When in ghost form, I prefer Phantom.” 

“They/him?” 

Phantom shrugged, “Close enough.” 

Jason snorted, “How’re you doing kid?” 

“I’m currently talking to my sister’s boyfriend about to give him a crash course on the spooky and ooky.” The halfa grinned, “I couldn’t be better.” 

“Was that a reference?” 

“Was what a reference?”

“Nevermind.”

To say Jason was horrified was a gross understatement. 

He was so far past horrified he was well into confused panic at the sheer audacity of what he was currently hearing... 

“You’re the rightful Ghost King, but you’re too young in human and ghost cultures to rule in your name so your older sister is acting as your Regent. Do I have that right?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

(Wow, Jazz was a badass.)

“Wait, but she goes by Regent as a vigilante?” 

“It was easier than calling her anything else, a lot of the ghosts refer to Jazz as either Regent, Your Majesty, or My Lady so she’s grown used to responding to them.” 

“Hold up- Lady?” 

Another hum, “Jazz is the Lady of the Acropolis, a former student of Pandora, the Guardian of Hope and Ancient of Peace.” 

“Wow, my girlfriend is awesome.” 

Phantom chuckled, a soft pat on Jason’s shoulder, “And don’t you forget it.” 

Whatever face Jason made as he realized he was courting a Lady, an actual Lady with a title and everything, was hilarious enough to make Phantom burst out laughing. 

Whatever, Jason could take the mockery from Phantom as long as his family never found out about him dating a Lady. His brothers would never let him live it down, that he was living out his Regency fantasies. 

(Fuckers, they’re just jealous he got a badass with a sword.) 

“Where is Jazz?” 

Phantom cringed, “She, uh, had to deal with something?” It was phrased as a question. 

“Something we should be worried about?” 

“For Jazz?” There was a hint of hero worship in his tone as the Ghost spoke of his sister, “We should be worried for the poor idiot that summoned her.” 

(Hold up.) 

“Summoned?” 

“Summoned, keep up.” 

Put a pin in that for later. “Why would anyone want to summon Jazz?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not like she’s Regent of the Realms Infinite.” Ok, yeah, Jason deserved that sass. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that Jazz, his lovely spitfire of a soulmate girlfriend had Regency over a dimension of ghosts because Holy Shit. 

(He was totally simping over her, he’s man enough to admit it.)

Somehow that seemed more of a staggering revelation than being told he had been a Revenant with corrupted Ectoplasm that had technically died for a second time when he had those severe chest pains, only to be revived by Jazz pouring pure ecto down his throat. 

(The same Ecto she needs to keep herself healthy.)

(He wondered if Jazz had felt the connection between them even then.)

An unexpected summoning was a shard of ice in her spine, twisting like a knife of betrayal in the nerves, utter agony. Jazz had little warning, little time to brace herself before she was hooked behind her navel and yanked.

Thank the Ancients she wasn’t in the shower, because whoever dared to summon the Ghost King was not going to receive an eyeful for their trouble. 

Jazz allowed her armor to materialize, a slick sensation of water down her back soothed the lingering pain of the brutal summons, but her back plate soon settled firmly in place and irritated the nerves more so. 

Just as her helmet locked into place, sealing her fully into her armor, green smoke announced her arrival with a dramatic flair she couldn’t find humor in. 

Rested on one knee, head bowed, the Regent was quite an intimidating sight for the uninitiated. 

Her helmet, full coverage with a crown of green shards embedded into its pulsing ebony metal, only allowed the green tint of her eyes to shine through. Once her head lifted, the several shivers her gaze got proved how effective it was at unnerving others. 

With a breath, the Regent stood. 

And so we continue….

A/N:

If you're confused by the ending it picks up from Part 12, my special Jason Todd/Red aesthetic entry for the series. Part 12 to 13 takes place right beforehand, so we'll be entering into the endgame of the Anti-Ecto Acts being repealed soon.

Kudos and thanks to my beta reader @meditating-cat. Apparently I over use commas, who knew?

They had one thing to say about Jason in this part: SIMPPPP

I agree, I'm a totally dork for Simp!Jason and Loving!Jazz.

As for other news, I've been making a bunch of boards for The Regent (and my Revenant!Jazz prompt) while I've been sick, so there's that. I don't like many of them anyways.

A surprise poll will be included in an upcoming part, maybe not the next one, but it will come so keep an eye out for it because the answer will be included in the series.

Happy Holidays and best wishes from me to you!

-Love, the one strong with the sarcasm

[didhewinkback]

Something Old

Written for @harry-on-broadway's fic challenge.

Written prompt used: "What's this, then?"

Watching your childhood best friend (& the man you've been in love with for half your life) get married proves to be harder than you thought. Will you be able to make a quick getaway to avoid further heartbreak? Or is it finally time for the truth come out?

A/N: the pic represents more of an overall vibe rather than a definite representation of what he is wearing. but the vibes of the pic are absolutely accurate. some liberties have been taken with accurate chronology of his dating life bc this is fiction town usa baby. takes place during the fine line era, in a world with no covid. dream world. please let me know what you think!

-----

There was a huge water fountain, right in the middle of the hotel courtyard, making criss-cross patterns into the pool below and you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. It was soothing, in a way. Or at least you were trying to force the concept of being soothed upon yourself, trying to focus in on the sounds of the water and the lights reflecting off of it. Anything to not think about the background noise of the party, of the clinking glasses and what that sound would mean, to think of him – nope. Back to the fountain.

Your mother cleared her throat. Her eyes had been burning holes into the side of your face but you couldn’t face her or that look of pity in her eyes. Your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase as you kept your eyes on the water. Just keep staring at the water.

“Did you call an Uber or…?”

“I’m just going to take the rental back to the city and go from there.”

“You could always take it back to the house. Bit of a drive but…”

The thought of walking into your childhood home, alone, while his own childhood home sat right next door was too much to bear. “I don’t,” you cleared your throat as your voice caught, “I don’t think I can be surrounded by all those memories. God, Mum, this is so embarrassing –”

“Oh, baby, no. Come here” Your mom rushed over to you and wrapped her arms around you in a death grip as you let yourself collapse into her arms, feeling 8, 15 and 26 all at once. The tears which you had been trying to save for the drive poured out of you, your mum shushing you as you buried your face into her shoulder. She stood there and held you tight, letting you release all the emotions you had pent up since you got here. You had never had an explicit conversation with her about your true feelings for Harry but with the way she was holding you, you knew you never had to. She knew. The thought made you tighten your arms around her, burying your head a little deeper as the tears flowed. Just a few more minutes.

“I’m getting your dress soaked,” you said, trying to pull your head away and pull yourself together before your mum tightened her arms around you, holding you in place.

“Could give two shits about my dress.” “Mum!” “I’m serious, I don’t care. Not when my baby is weeping in my arms.”

“Okay, I’m hardly weeping,” you huffed a laugh as you took a step back and wiped your face, looking into your mum’s kind eyes, glassy in their own right.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? Tell him what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head before she even finished her sentence. You had tried that, years ago. Winter break 2013. He had been gone almost two years, touring and traveling the world while you watched from afar at uni. You had walked down your stairs, rehearsing your big speech in your head while smoothing down the new skirt you bought for the occasion, only to look up and find him in your living room with the most famous pop star in the world in his arms. He had brought her home to “meet the family” he said. Which included you. You were just family. And he dated pop stars now. A gut punch that you quickly healed with copious amounts of tequila. And a drunken hookup with a boy from sixth form. It was fine. You were fine.

You had been best friends since you were 8, neighbors since you were 6, and for years you brushed off your crush, chocking it up to an extension of affection for your first male friend - the boy who made you laugh until you cried, who always needed help with math homework, who dragged you onto the dance floor when everyone else was too nervous to at that first school dance. The boy who stood in front of you in his bedroom, nervously singing along to a Youtube track before asking you if this was something you thought he could do, for real. The boy who invited you to join him a few weeks each summer, riding bikes through muggy Colorado streets for late night froyo or hiking those Hollywood hills. The boy growing into a man who called you when you were studying at the library, in the middle of the night halfway across the world, feeling overwhelmed by the pressure and needing a piece of home to slow his exhausted, racing mind.

This crush was something you thought you would grow out of. Except you didn’t. His life had become drastically different than the one you two had shared in your small hometown but whenever you were together, it was like no time had passed. After that fateful winter break, you had tried to keep your distance but each time you saw him, you were sucked right back in.

There had been more moments - falling over yourselves during a drunken McDonalds run, or during a screaming match in the middle of a very competitive round of charades, or when he bounded off stage after that first solo night at MSG, wrapping you in his arms and holding tightly - moments where the words were about to burst from your chest, overwhelmed by the love you felt for him. But you knew it would never work - he wasn’t interested. And, even if he was, you were nowhere near his league. Even his one night stands were straight off the Forbes 500 list. Not that you were ashamed of yourself or who you had become, you just knew, for many reasons, that there was a disconnect there. He wasn’t interested. You were family. You had to keep it that way.

You steeled yourself to get over it, to be okay with just being his friend. And you had convinced yourself it worked. You had met his girlfriends over the years; no longer tearing yourself apart in comparison as you blossomed into that confidence that comes with getting older and finding your place in the world. Falling into relationships with some really great guys, guys that you really cared for, who made you laugh and met your family on your birthdays. But no matter how hard you tried, those relationships always seemed to fizzle out because you never felt that spark. That once in a lifetime spark. That spark you felt the second you saw him yesterday - a smile blooming across his face as his arms lifted up in a cheer when he locked eyes with you. All that hard work shot to shit in an instant.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head more fiercely, desperately trying to get those memories to fall out of your head forever. “That’s not how he sees me, Mum. It’s not - this is just something I have to get over. But I can’t do it here.”

Her face fell, before she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Okay,” she said, looking at you with new determination. “So, what’s the story? Work emergency? Appendicitis? Stomach virus? Uncontrollable pooping?”

“Mum! Oh my god!”

“What?!” she shrugged, her eyes glowing with a playful twinkle as she watched the smile grow on your face. “I just feel like the more details we provide, the more believable it will be.”

“Whatever you have to do,” you said, rolling your eyes as you pulled her into another hug.

“It’ll be okay, lovebug,” she whispered in your ear. “This pain won’t last forever. He’s not the be all, end all.”

“Why does it feel like it then?” you said softly, tightening your arms around her, unable to stop yourself when more tears began to fall. “I really have to get going, I don’t want anyone to see -”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got progressively louder as the doors swung open. Your stomach sank as you heard the last voice you wanted to hear. “There you are! Been looking all over for you two. Ang? - Oh. ”

“Yeah?” Your mom turned to face him, blocking you from view as you furiously wiped away your tears.

“Mum’s been looking all over for you. Something about a bet involving tequila shots…”

“Ah, was hoping she’d forget about that. Tell her I’ll be in in a bit, just need to help this one -”

You cleared your throat, keeping your head down as you nudged her forward. “No, Mum, it's fine. Go in. I’ll be okay.”

She turned to look at you, eyes searching. “But you’re not feeling. well.” She emphasized her point by placing her hand on your forehead. Oh, god. No Oscar in her future then.

You looked at her, feeling his eyes on you, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Really. Have fun”.

“Love you.” She kissed you on the cheek as she squeezed your hand, whispering, “Be brave”.

You kept your eyes to the ground as you heard her walk inside, closing the doors behind her. Enveloping the two of you in silence. You looked up, taking him in for the first time all night. He knocked the wind out of you.

His white suit was tailored to perfection, the dress shirt open in a deep v down his chest, revealing the smattering of tattoos that you swore he’d regret one day, but that only looked perfectly in place as his muscles grew more defined. His hair, curls tousled just the way you liked it. The smattering of scruff along his chiseled jawline, held tightly as he took in the scene in front of him. He looked good.

You can’t imagine what you looked like. Tear tracks streaking down your face and hair messy from how often you had been nervously running your hands through it. Dressed for a cocktail hour while wearing your sneakers for the quick getaway. You had to get the fuck out of here.

“Thought only the bride was supposed to wear white.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. This was not the time for banter. You should be in the car already, leaving all this behind you. You snuck a look at his face, his green eyes locking with yours, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked right at you, his deep voice rumbling as he shot back, “Wanted to be dramatic. It’s my day too.”

“Classic H.” you said. You could not get your feet to move. Your car was no more than 10 paces away and yet here you were, frozen under his questioning gaze.

“What’s all this, then?” he asked, as he took in your suitcase, the car keys fiddling around in your hand. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Uh, a work emergency came up.”

“Bullshit.”

“No it’s not -”

“Your mum just said you weren’t feeling well.”

Shit. “Both things are true. H, please just - I have to go.”

“No, I think I have the right to know why my best mate is leaving my wedding weekend early. Why you’re standing out here with your mum and - are you - were you crying?” He looks desperately confused, eyes searching your face. “Need you to talk to me.”

He takes a few steps towards you when he notices your hands visibly starting to shake. “Hey, hey…” He reaches his hands towards yours as you quickly put your hands on your suitcase, pulling it towards you. You take a few steps back and try to take a few steadying breaths.

“Please,” your voice was barely a whisper. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always notice when you're gone. Haven’t been able to find you all night, I’ve been trying to hang out with you. Wanted to spend time with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the look on his face, trying to not think too hard about those words. Trying to be casual, nonchalant. Trying to be anything but the crumbling mess you were in front of him. “C’mon, I’m not even in the wedding party it’ll be better -”

“Is that what this is about? You knew we were keeping it small on purpose, didn’t think you needed to be in the bridal party to know how much y’mean to me but I guess–”

Anger suddenly swirled in you, turning your cheeks warm, eyes blazing. As if you’d be out here having a full mental breakdown over something so trivial. You scoffed, “You think I’m out here crying because of some arbitrary fucking title? You know that’s never mattered to me when it comes to you.”

“Then WHAT is going on with you?”

“Can you please just drop it and let me –”

“It’s my fucking wedding, you’ve been avoiding me ever since you got here. I need you here and you’re just standing outside with your car keys and your fucking suitcase like it’s nothing. Like I’m nothing–

“Oh my god, how can you even say that – ”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? I’m flying blind here you won’t TALK to me–”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU MARRY HER!”

The words were loud, louder than you meant them and out faster than you could stop them. Fuck. This was. Not. How This. Was supposed to go. You shut your eyes. Your mind was racing, mouth trying to move to make an excuse but you couldn’t think of anything and then you hear a derisive snort, your eyes flying open to see his, suddenly colder, taunting.

“‘S that what this is about, then? Never did like her, did you? Always wondered when we’d have this conversation. Thought you may have been a little more fair and try to do it before my wedding weekend but hey, guess I’m not the only one who can be dramatic.”

You stood there, gaping at him, tears pricking your eyes as he glared back at you.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s so wrong with her?”

Oh, he misunderstood. You could let him think this is the truth, that you’re just some bitchy childhood friend who never approved of the fiancée and waited until the last moment to make a dramatic exit. You could leave right now and let him think that. But he needed to know the truth, as painful as it may be. You began to shake your head, the tears seconds from pouring out.

“No, that’s not - you’re not understanding me.”

“Am I not? Seems pretty clear to me” His tone was still taunting, angry. He had every right to be. This was supposed to be the biggest weekend of his life and here he was, out here with you, instead of partying with all of his loved ones mere feet away. The thought of it made the tears spill over, a small sob escaping you. Through the tears you saw his face drop, his brows furrowing.

“It’s not her. She’s lovely. She’s so lovely and you should be in there with her. You could be marrying fucking Beyonce and I wouldn’t be okay with it. I … I can’t watch you marry someone else without - without wishing it was me instead.”

You watched as he froze, his eyes widening. In shock? Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure.

You took a deep breath and kept going, continuing to dig yourself into the grave of your own making. Every part of you was screaming at you to stop, but now that you got started, the words kept coming, “I’ve been in love with you since we were like 15. You’re my best friend in the whole world and I…god, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes. You’re the first person I want to make laugh with a new lame joke, the first person I want to share good news with. The first person I want to do anything with. You’re kinda it for me. Always have been. You’re just my favorite person in the world. And I –”

You shook your head, cutting yourself off. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your cheeks burning. You stand there, slightly panting, watching him watch you, his own eyes glassy, his own breath coming in fast spurts. Neither of you dared to move.

You stand there, watching as your confession explodes between the two of you, helpless to do anything but stand in the carnage. It is deadly silent. A minute passes, then another. It could be five, it could be twenty. What did you just do?

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry.”, you said frantically, your brain finally catching up to your mouth. “You should go back inside. I’m –”

He inhales sharply, head shaking in disbelief, “Y’think - y’think I’m going to go back in there right now? After–? Fuck.”

He drags his hand down his face, bringing his other hand to meet it and standing there with his head in his hands. You wish you could get a good read on him, to tell how he’s feeling, but you just stand there, heart beating wildly, in disbelief of what you have done.

“I’ve got a reception hall full of people here.”

“I know.”

“People traveled for this.”

“I know.”

“Why - why now? I had no fucking idea. Why’d you never tell me before?”

“I tried, but the timing was never right – ”

“Yeah, well, your timing right now is impeccable,” he deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes, though his sense of humor reappearing made a zing of hope run through you. Maybe he won't hate you forever. Maybe, one day, the friendship could be salvaged. Maybe you didn’t just embarrass yourself beyond belief - though your burning cheeks indicate otherwise.

He clears his throat, pulling you out of your racing mind. “This whole time…you’ve felt this way? This whole time?”

You had been expecting to confess and run. For him to smile politely at you, let you down easy. You had spent your whole life believing this was a one sided thing. But here he was, looking utterly wrecked, his green eyes never once wavering from yours.

“Yes, H,” you told him. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

You watch as his face crumbles slightly. He brings a hand up to his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, a mumbled, shaky “fuck” leaving his lips.

You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes, praying your waterproof mascara is doing its job. As much as you want to live in this fantasy of possibilities, you can’t let yourself make more of a mess of this than you already have. He was getting married. Tomorrow.

“H, the last thing I ever wanted to do is ruin this for you”, your voice shakes the more you look at him, “I will be fine. You should go back inside. I’m going to go.” You grab your suitcase and keys and start to make your way to the car. The sound of his voice calling your name stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking.

You turn to face him, finding him staring right back at you. His glassy eyes ablaze, his jaw set. You don’t make a sound.

“Please.” He closes the distance between you in a few quick strides. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand to your jaw. You’re sure he can feel the warmth there, blooming at his touch. You lock eyes with him, both of you barely breathing. After a second, his thumb caresses your cheekbone, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans his forehead against yours and you can feel his hot breath on your lips, the smell of mint and tequila filling your nose. You might pass out.

“This is a lot to process,'' he whispers.

“I know.” You try to pull your head back a bit to give him space, but he holds you steady in his grip. His other hand falls to your waist, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact.

“I have to go back in there. Supposed to get married tomorrow,” he whispers as his thumb starts to draw circles on your hip bone. You’re sure even he can hear your heartbeat at this point, the way it’s thundering in your ears.

“Y-you don’t owe me anything, you know”, you whisper back, his brow furrowing as he feels your breath on his lips. “Just because I told you. There’s no pressure or anything. I know, like… I’m not….I’m not expecting - I should -”

He takes a step closer to you, pulling you flush against him, effectively cutting you off. “Don’t. You can’t. ‘S not pressure, I just - I don’t know”, he takes a deep breath, “I need time. Please. Don’t leave. You don’t have to go back in there but don’t leave tonight. Please.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“Please.” His words fall across your lips as he moves to kiss your other cheek.

“Fuck. I wish…just - please don’t go.” He leans in slowly, kissing you once on the neck, right below your ear, inhaling deeply. His forehead falls to your collarbone, resting there. “You can’t go, not yet. Not until…Please. I need time to think. I don’t know. Promise me you’ll still be here later tonight.”

He lifts his head, holding eye contact with you until you nod, bringing your hand up to wrap around his wrist, moving your thumb in soothing circles. He stares at you, eyes dropping to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His grip on your hip tightens, his eyes dropping to your lips once more.

You hear glasses tinkering, calls of his name. Shit. You take a step back, his hand sliding from your jaw to your wrist, holding a loose grip. Your cheeks burning at how caught up in the moment you got, head reeling at what this could all mean.

“I have to -” “I know.”

He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead, not once letting go of your wrist.

He steps back, his glassy eyes flitting all over your face before meeting yours once more and holding your gaze. “You’ll be at the hotel later tonight? You promise?”

“I promise,” you say, squeezing his hand once before letting go.

He nods sharply, walking backwards towards the door, eyes never leaving yours. He stops right before the entrance, quickly wiping at his eyes, shaking his head. You can see him physically brace himself as he pulls the door open, a tight smile on his lips as he gets pulled into the party once more.

The doors close, once again surrounding you with silence. With your own thoughts. The feeling of his lips on your neck playing over and over again in your mind.

Holy. Shit.

[todayisafridaynight]

the elderly and their matching gloves

[seapiglet]

The only way I would've accepted seeing pre-fall Crowley and Aziraphale together is if they were like in the Heaven cafeteria, Crowley complaining to a celestial dinnerlady that the lunch options all look bad ("the food hadn't been that good lately"), while Aziraphale walks by in the other direction, needlessly worrying about something. Neither notices the other. They were this close and yet!

Perhaps Aziraphale and another angel are even discussing some rumour about angels starting to ask questions of The Almighty and expresses concern.

Keep in the "how much trouble can I get into for asking a few questions?" or whatever from Crowley but have it be with the disgruntled dinnerlady or one of Lucifer's crew he was presumably hanging out with. Show one of these soon-to-be-cast-out angels casually mentioning to him that they're thinking of bringing up a few of their concerns to "the boss" and would he be interested? It's worth a shot after all. What harm could it to?

Just anything to make it less fucking needlessly dramatic and serious.

[nurllius]

"Killing and corrupting, it's what you were born to do."

[randomnameless]

Which is stupider, Brave!Lysithea agreeing with Supreme Leader and thinking that getting rid of crests will automatically cause the concept of people with more power over society than others to disappear, or Brave!Marianne idolizing Momo despite presumably knowing full well how much of a monster he was?

B!Lys without a doubt !

B!Lys thinking crusts makes people nobles erases Judith, Holst and hell, even Marianne herself from Fodlan (Marianne is a noble because she was adopted by Edmund, not because she has a crest, hell, her crest is hidden!!).

B!Marianna can sort of exist in the post VW limbo where it is probable that post VW Claude never said a thing about the origins of the Relics and the identity of the Elites to his classmates (just as it is probably he told them, the game doesn't want you to think about those pesky "issues") - but B!Lys exists in a verse where she ignores members of her own faction so...

I wouldn't say it's stupid per se anon, but it's a case of FEH completely ignoring events from the games to create characters (re : Ayra training A!Mareeta) with the Fodlan speciality : the vast majority of the FE16 characters (not their Nopes versions!) cannot have definite personality traits or connect two dots, because if the stars align a certain way, they can join Supreme Leader/ditch their country/family/friends for Billy's pretty eyes. Unlike the Lord who are from their, well, canon versions, B!Lys cannot say Supreme Leader's "reasoning" is nonsensical, because Lys can join Supreme Leader, let it be for Billy's pretty eyes, or because she is the only unit in the game to be able to look at her city being invaded and her friends having been massacred, and choose to side with the invaders to save her life (tfw Lys adopts more willingly the Almyran POV than Hilda, who rejects it in CF and dies fighting to protect her leader/friend).

[gale-force-storm]

On this, the day after the Ides of March, I find myself thinking about ambition, a la Marc Antony's eulogy in Julius Cesar. And when thinking about ambition these days, I think of Gale. More specifically, I couldn't stop thinking about Tav giving a very similar speech, in the event that Gale did sacrifice himself.

He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Mystra says he was ambitious; And Mystra is an honorable god. He hath for a year locked himself away For fear of causing harm with his mistake: Did this in Gale seem ambitious? He never took, but pleaded for our help: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Mystra says he was ambitious; And Mystra is an honorable god. You all now know that privately one night I asked him not to take a godly crown To which he acquiesced: was this ambition? Yet Mystra says he was ambitious; And, sure, she is an honorable god.

[races-stupid-cigar]

Albert whos overshadowed by his brothers

Ones stronger than a horse and works down at the docks he saved a kids life once and is incredibly good at what he does and knows it

The other works in construction helping build up the growing city it's a dangerous job but he's talented beyond his years and always can think up something to get the job done

His father works at a factory and has for some time he's not at the top but is well respecting in his efficiency even in his old age

Then there's Albert he's not his father or his brothers he's just the youngest DaSilva who tries to hide behind his insecurity with being defensive and downright an asshole sometimes because he doesn't feel like enough he's the weakest DaSilva and he knows he's not very smart and he can't even sell papers as good as his friends he's just some shitty kid who can't let go of his mom who's been gone for years now

[onlyhereforangst]

me thinking about how rivusa fandom is about to get fed this season and I just 😌🤩 it’s giving

[to-be-a-dreamer]

🥚

Yes. Yes, I do have an inbox full of asks from the game the other day. However, why would I be a normal person and answer them when I could finish this response from literally ten months ago? (Other than this paragraph and the bit near the end, everything here was written back in June. I cannot even begin to tell you why it never got finished but enjoy I guess)

Okay, perfect so let me tell you guys about a little story called Pearchwood Hollow! It was a mystery/horror original story I wrote in 2019 that I repurposed into a Newsies AU. Obligatory "I have a very loose mental roadmap of how this plot goes at best, and nothing but general vibes and random scenes in mind at worst". This AU is an absolute mess and I have no idea how at least 50% of it goes, which is the exact reason it has never seen the light of day. You can read the concept chapter I wrote if you want; it's not that great but it'll help you get an idea of what this is going to be. (Don't bully me for the characters' names I was 16 and thought I was being quirky) It's formatted kinda weirdly because of the application it was originally written on but luckily I saved a copy to my computer after I deleted the original file.

Anyways, the basic idea:

It's a small town au and our main character is Davey Jacobs, an 18-year-old high school graduate/rising college freshman who lives with his parents and brother, is best friends with Charlie Morris-Larkin and Katherine Pulitzer, and was dating Jack Kelly-Larkin for most of high school. Jack and Charlie are brothers and Charlie is older by like four months because I said so. Davey and Jack broke up a few weeks after graduation because they made plans to go to colleges on opposite sides of the country. They're still friends and it's totally not awkward at all. Nope. Besties for life, those two.

Anywho, if you read the chapter I linked, you already know the mystery that's being set up, but just as a little TLDR: the town Davey and the gang live in is completely and totally normal. Really, it is. (this is not me being sarcastic again, it really is just a regular, boring town in middle-of-nowhere New York)

THE TOWN RIGHT NEXT TO THEM, HOWEVER-

It's called Pearchwood Hollow and it seems perfect, almost too perfect. Davey's been there a few times and everyone he met was super friendly and helpful. The lady at the gas station gave him a free candy bar, the mechanic who helped them out when they got stuck on the side of the road taught Davey how to change a flat tire, and the nice old couple who own the local sandwich shop snuck an extra cookie in his bag. It's a perfect town, full of perfect people who live in perfect houses and go to perfect schools and play in perfect parks and have perfect everything lives.

So why does every single person within a 100-mile radius know the exact same rule: Never, under any circumstances, stay in Pearchwood Hollow overnight

Davey liked to think his parents trusted him. He didn't have a curfew because they know he isn't interested in staying out late and getting into trouble. He was allowed to go anywhere in town as long as he gave them a general idea of when he would be home. He had his own job and his parents allowed him to do whatever he wanted with his salary, knowing that he always puts half into his savings account and made sure his phone bill was paid before spending anything on himself.

Yes, Esther and Mayer Jacobs trusted their oldest son, he had never given them any reason not to, after all. But Davey had never in his life gone longer than a week without being strictly reminded "never go to the Hollow".

No one knew where the rule came from, not even the oldest people in town. As far as Davey could tell, the fear of Pearchwood Hollow went back at least six generations and for seemingly no reason. Every once in a while, a couple of local kids would go to the Hollow with the intention of staying the night, but they always chickened out before sunset. No one had ever spent the night except for the people who lived there, all of whom usually laughed off the rumors or seemed genuinely clueless about them.

Davey was curious of course, everyone was, but he figured if so many people were afraid of the Hollow there must be a good reason. He would not be known as the fool who went poking around in places he shouldn't have and ended up becoming the answer to the mystery.

Which brings us to the beginning of the Actual Plot:

The opening scene is Davey packing for college while Les helps him and whines the whole time about being left behind. He's fine, just dramatic. Davey insists that he'll love being the only kid in the house and getting all of their parents' attention. Just in case though, Davey promises to leave his favorite denim jacket for Les to wear while he's gone and Les gives Davey his favorite friendship bracelet that he made at camp.

Anyways, Les has to leave the room for something, and, while Davey's shifting boxes around and trying to figure out how to pack his whole life into one tiny little dorm room, he finds an envelope behind his desk. It's covered in a thin layer of dust, a bit crumpled, still sealed shut, and reads "To Davey" on the front in neat, loopy handwriting.

Of course, he opens it and finds a letter from someone telling him that they've always wanted to know what was wrong with the Hollow. That they couldn't take it anymore and were going to find out what the rumors were about, once and for all. They told Davey they were planning on staying for one hour past sundown and to expect them home before dinner if all went well.

That much was already weird enough, but there were details in the letter than didn't make sense. First of all, there was the fact that Davey doesn't know anyone named "Sarah", and she kept speaking about him, Les, and their parents as if she were close to their family. Extremely close. Then she asked him not to tell Katherine where she'd gone until she got back, again, as if she were close with Davey's best friend. She called him D, an old nickname his family used when he was a little kid. Other small things like that.

Davey is completely and utterly confused, so, naturally, he goes to his two best friends to make them confused with him (one of which is his ex's brother and the other of which is his ex's ex. This is normal.)

Davey, Kath, and Charlie are, individually, incredibly smart individuals, so you would think that between the three of them, they could figure out a reasonable plan of action. However, their first working plan is to just. Go to the Hollow and see what happens. They don't stay overnight, they go during the middle of the day just to see if anything about it has changed since the last time any of them went.

There's a chapter or two of the gang driving around, looking at the old, decrepit town, a far cry from what they all remember. All of the buildings are falling apart and overgrown with plants. The road is full of potholes and cracks and looks as if it hasn't been tended to in decades, maybe even centuries. Davey's pretty sure he doesn't see a single animal in the entire town. It's only been six months since one of them was here, so they have no idea how it looked so bad.

They ask around a bit to try and learn what happened, or even if anyone knows a girl named Sarah, but every person they try to talk to just yells at them to get out before they get "claimed", whatever that means. Even the nice little sandwich shop that Davey remembers has basically crumbled into a giant pile of rubble and the man at the counter glares so harshly as they enter that they turn right around and go back to the car.

It's weird and creepy, nothing like they remember about the Hollow, so they leave a lot sooner than they originally planned. This chapter(s) ends with the three of them encountering Jack on the road out of the Hollow.

He's absolutely furious for a few reasons. First for going to the Hollow without telling anyone (Katherine could have sworn she sent Darcy a text right as they crossed into the town limits). Second for not answering their phones when literally everyone has been trying to find them (Davey couldn't remember his phone going off at all while they were in the Hollow, but when he checks he does in fact have several missed calls and texts from his parents and his friends). Third for turning off their location-sharing so that Medda and Jack couldn't even figure out where Charlie was (Charlie had barely touched his phone all day, but when he pulls it out to prove it, sure enough, his location-sharing is off.) I also think that it's been at least an hour longer than the trio thought, but I'm not sure if they would realize that now.

And so they have no choice but to tell Jack what's going on, to show him the letter and explain their "plan". He understands, he probably would have done the same thing, but he's hurt that they couldn't bother to tell him. He knows that things have been a bit awkward since the breakup but they're still his best friends and Charlie should have had the sense to at least tell his family what he was up to instead of scaring them half to death by practically falling off the face of the earth for four hours.

I have no idea how long this confrontation lasts, but by the end of it everyone has more or less made up, and now Jack is in on the goal to figure out the mystery. I told you there is no plan for this, I barely know what's going on at this point.

Here's the kicker: when Jack asks if they at least learned anything useful on their little field trip, Davey, Kath, and Charlie all say "no". They tell him that everything was just as perfect and idyllic as always, everyone was nice and welcoming and nothing weird was going on. They're not lying. The reader knows all of Davey's thoughts and memories in this moment and, as he recalls them, they are drastically different from what the reader knows to be true.

This is when we discover what the characters won't for a long time: the Hollow affects your memories. As long as you leave before sunset, the memories you made during your time in the Hollow are replaced by new ones. Fake ones. Memories of colorful houses with blossoming front gardens, of cheerful diners and mom-and-pop shops, of friendly townsfolk with genuine smiles and happy lives. Our narrator has forgotten four whole hours of his life and doesn't even realize it. What else don't we know about this story?

Wasn't sure where to add this, but I think something would happen in the Hollow that left a physical mark. Like, the car got scratched, someone skins their knee or gets a small cut on their arm, or someone drops a book in a puddle of water which leaves the ink bleeding and the pages warped. Something physical that can't easily be fixed, but could easily be forgotten for a little while. Jack asks what happened and the trio realizes that none of them knows. It's a big enough mark that they definitely should have noticed as soon as it happened, but none of them did. Or, at least, none of them remember if they did.

Also, at some point, we would meet Finch, Albert, and Spot, three best friends in the grade below our main characters who sometimes just kinda show up and are Also There. If Davey and the gang thought really hard about it, they wouldn't be able to remember where or how they met the three younger kids. And if Finch, Albert, and Spot thought really hard about it, they wouldn't be able to remember where or how they met each other.

Here's where the plot gets a little muddy and I start to lose my grip on the steering wheel. Or maybe my navigation system just shorted out idk it's less of an outline and more of a wishlist after this point:

So our new Buzzfeed Unsolved gang consists of Jack Kelly, his older brother of four months, his ex-girlfriend, and his ex-boyfriend. Someone book them a weekly timeslot on the History Channel.

They eventually decided that the best thing they can do is just research the Hollow and see if they can figure out why there are so many warnings about a seemingly-normal place. They don't find much, people have been searching for answers about the Hollow for over a century and never found anything. Finally, Katherine manages to find one newspaper article from the late 1800s, early 1900s. (It might be a little on-the-nose to say it's from 1899, but that's around the time period, I didn't even do that on purpose). According to the article, there was some kind of tragedy that killed every person in Pearchwood Hollow. I haven't 100% decided what happened, but my top 3 options are: blizzard, massive flood/tropical storm, or mysterious illness. I think I'm leaning towards blizzard just for simplicity's sake, but the illness one would be easy to explain why it didn't affect any of the surrounding towns. It's really not important, all you need to know is that everyone in town died, and the article states that no one has any plans to rebuild or repopulate.

Then the exact same newspaper released another article a week later, talking about a new school opening in Pearchwood Hollow to help with the large population increase over the past few years.

This is when the gang starts to revisit the weird stuff that happened when they went into the Hollow. Their phones seemingly not working, time moving differently, and the physical mark that I mentioned earlier. With this, in addition to the news articles and the letter from Sarah, there's only one logical conclusion to come to: the Hollow affects your memories.

Okay so maybe it's not exactly a logical conclusion and they definitely argue about it for a while, but it's the best explanation anyone has. But if the theory is true, that means there's no way of learning what's going on. Not unless they stay in the Hollow overnight.

Again, I have absolutely how the plot progresses to this, it just Does, alright? So yeah, the gang decides to just stick it out and stay in the Hollow overnight. How do they decide on this? Absolutely no idea but it happens and we're going with it, it's important to the plot.

Now this is really where I have no idea what happens beyond really vague ideas so just bear with me:

The gang goes to the Hollow and it's the same as the last time (the time the reader remembers), the run-down buildings, the horrible roads, the weird townsfolk, everything. Except this time, as soon as the sun sets, it's like a switch flips in everyone's heads and they suddenly remember that this is how Pearchwood Hollow has always been. Every single time, they had had the same awful experience, their memories were just replaced after they left. It's fascinating and terrifying all the same, but they move on to the next part of the plan, which is to find Sarah.

Which they do. Somehow. Don't ask questions, I don't have answers. They find Sarah and, again, a switch flips and suddenly they all remember her. She's Davey's twin sister, Jack's best friend, and Katherine's girlfriend of two years. It's very emotional, very sad, many tears. I'm so good at descriptions.

This is when the pieces all start to fall into place for both the reader and the characters. Sarah left the note for Davey about a week or two before the story started, went into the Hollow, stayed after dark, got trapped, and everyone in the outside world forgot she existed. Every physical and digital trace of her disappeared, except for the letter. As Sarah keeps explaining, they learn dozens, if not hundreds of people get stuck in the Hollow every single year. And then the world just... forgets them. People they knew, people they were friends with, maybe even people they loved. All gone.

Sarah doesn't know why, no one in the Hollow does. They still age and die as normal, so this has been going on for over six generations just like in the outside world. The town is pretty run down after a century of not being able to call for outside help or materials, but they don't really need to sleep or eat or drink like they should, so the lack of safe housing or good food or clean water isn't really a problem. The Hollow is basically a weird little pocket dimension and the people inside are somewhere between dead and alive. They just live out the rest of their lives wandering aimlessly in their odd little prison, making tentative friendships that don't mean all that much, and scaring off any visitors so they don't get trapped as well.

Davey, Katherine, Charlie, and Jack aren't technically stuck yet. They could still leave, but they'd forget everything again. They aren't really trapped until they get "claimed", which, according to Sarah, should be happening any minute so they really needed to get going. They argue this, of course, saying they won't leave without her and she insists that she can't leave, that she's tried and everyone else in Pearchwood has tried, but there's no way out after you get claimed.

They're arguing about this for a few minutes and then they hear a voice calling out from the other room. Asking Sarah who she was talking to. Then the final switch flips and they remember Race. And Davey can't feel any emotion besides horror as the boy freezes in the doorway. This is Jack and Charlie's little brother and, if Davey's memory isn't failing him again, he's been gone for over a year. And all that time, while he was stuck in this horrible limbo, they were just living their lives as if nothing had happened

Okay, so this is where I stopped writing back in June because couldn't think of an ending. We're picking this up about ten months later so apologies if there's any continuity errors after this

For the sake of getting this finished so it doesn't sit in my drafts for another ten months, we're gonna speedrun our way through what is technically the climax of the entire story, just deal with it. In case you haven't noticed I love creating situations for my little guys but I'm so bad at getting them out of said situations

Basically, Pearchwood Hollow is the way that it is because back in 1899, when the whole town was destroyed, there actually was one survivor. It doesn't really matter who it was. Maybe the mayor, maybe a poor farmer, maybe a small child. Who they are isn't important. What's important is that they were scared, lonely, and so very desperate.

Desperation is a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. It makes you vulnerable.

They made a deal with something. Maybe they thought it was an angel. Maybe they knew it was a demon. Maybe they didn't care either way.

The demon couldn't bring everyone back, but it could bring others in. It promised that if the person could get people to stay in the town just until sunset, the demon would make sure they were never lonely again. It could give them a community, a family again.

Desperation is a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. It makes you vulnerable. It makes you irrational. It prevents you from remembering all the warnings passed down from generation to generation about reading the fine print before accepting a deal from a demon. They never give you what you think you're asking for in the first draft.

At the time of our story, the original person who made the deal is long dead. But the demon will never break its oath, not as long as there are still people in the Hollow.

Demons gain their power from soul sacrifices. Technically, there's a specific ritual a human must complete of their own volition before the demon can stake their claim, but every rule has a loophole. Willingly entering a demon's earthly domain past nightfall despite warnings to keep away? Close enough to a ritual sacrifice for a demon to claim your soul and keep you trapped for the rest of your life.

Anyways, long story short but Davey and Co meet the demon and somehow don't ask questions Davey convinces it to take only his soul in exchange for letting the rest of his friends go, including Sarah and Race. I'm thinking the reasoning is because souls that are willingly sacrificed by someone who fully and completely understands the meaning of said sacrifice are ten times more powerful than souls that are forcibly stolen using a shaky-at-best loophole.

Desperation is a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. It makes you vulnerable. It makes you irrational. It makes you impulsive. It tricks you into thinking you've outsmarted your opponent when both of you know the game was over before it even started.

Jack and the others try to talk him out of it. Davey insists that this is the only way and at least most of them should be able to go home. They won't remember him anyways so they won't have to mourn. Before any of the others can try to offer themselves up instead, the demon snaps its fingers and suddenly the reader is sent back to the opening scene.

Davey is in his room packing for college. Sarah comes in to try and steal some of his sweaters to take with her to her own university just two hours away from Davey's. They bicker like all siblings do, like they always have.

They meet Charlie, Katherine, and Jack for lunch at Jacobi's later that day. Sarah greets her girlfriend with a sweet kiss and Davey slips under Jack's arm like it was the only place in the world he belonged. None of them mention the Hollow. The thought of the place doesn't even cross Davey's mind.

Jack leaves early to pick Race up from work, grumbling lightheartedly about how his annoying kid brother should hitch a ride with his friends instead of bugging him all the time. Davey rolls his eyes, knowing his boyfriend is eager to soak up every second left at home with Race before Jack and Davey move across the country to go to college together.

Davey does not find a dusty envelope behind his desk.

Esther and Meyer shed several tears the day they drop Davey and Sarah off at college, mentioning how quiet the house will be with only the two of them living in it

If he thought long and hard about it, Davey wouldn't be able to remember why he left his favorite denim jacket at home.

If anyone asked, Davey wouldn't be able to recall who gave him the handmade friendship bracelet he always had on his wrist.

And if anyone asked, David Jacobs would say he has only one sibling, his twin sister Sarah.

Always read the fine print before making a deal with a demon. They never give you what you think you're asking for.

[mcl-mia]

//zeus week day 6 - offering

to offer one's body and soul - is that not the highest form of loyalty?

[causticsunshine]

me: has several fic wips to finish from last year, two fest fics due in march and april, several art pieces left half completed, a full time job complete with an exhaustive schedule and manual labor

also me: yeah yeah okay BUT hear me out. what about a juno au.

[banannabethchase]

Writing a college choice chapter and I just got walloped with the memory of my dad making an absurdly detailed spreadsheet with like 4 separate sheets to help me choose which college to go to. The apple does not fall far from the tree.

...but this apple still managed to choose the wrong college.