#who the hell would bother to shave in a death game

[time-slink]

that grian drawing you made....!!. in my brain, rent free. I am ,,, SO serious about this. the baggy black pants. the red sweater around the waist.. muscle BULK. the floofy hair. the skin-colored sclera to give the illusion of his socket eyes.(!() STRONGK SHOULDERS.. THE ARM HAIR THE ARM HAIR THE A R M HAIRER L HEELLO??? ? the only thing keeping me from going completely insane is that he doesnt have the forearm veins BUT YEAH i love He <3. SO much. like i have nothing against twink baby-face femboy grian likers but hoooOOLY SHIT you know how to draw a Man,, not even like the ultra sexified anime boy kind of man. I mean like. I'm cis as hell but that is what i would want to look like if i was a guy. The perfect balance of intimidating and friendly and cheeky and cutesy and ,,, basically he looks like everything i could ever want in a grian design ok god bless <3

this is kinda on me but i did NOT expect the sheer volume of people hitting on my grian design in the tags its really funny to me,, glad yall enjoy haha kinda funny note: his sclera aren't intended to be skin colored, he sorta just doesn't have any in the way i draw him—but i guess its up to interpretation! thats kinda cool now that i look at it again

[whoacanada]

‘Wishful Thinking‘

Summary: Every NHL champion gets a single brush with ice magic. When Jack takes his first cup with the Falconers, he accidentally undoes the wish that brought him back from the brink of death in 2009, and Bitty becomes hell-bent on lifting the cup himself for a chance to set things right.

A/N: Finally posting some concepts I’ve played around with that aren’t 100% complete massive fics, but still pretty solid, just little things that might be enjoyed. Yet another cup-wish-gone-wrong-au with monkey-paw components. Also inspired by discord convos about canon!Jack meeting an older, veteran NHL!Bitty and having a lot of feelings. Also mentor/father-in-law!Bob trying to help Bitty navigate the NHL. There’s more to this floating around but this is the meat of it

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Bob can sense when it happens. A shift of something monumental that he’s only felt on a handful of occasions his entire life. A quick glance across the ice finds a number of the celebrating Falconers looking around curiously, unsure of the sensation; for so many, it’s their first brush with ice magic. A pleasant novelty. The vets, though, they look to each other.

Bob turns and doesn’t have to look far to find his son, one hand clasped around the cup, the other around Eric Bittle’s waist, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the moment is wrong, but Bob can’t quite determine why as he’s overcome with a wave of nausea. The stadium lights are too bright and he blinks hard, face scrunching, trying to force whatever wrongness he’s feeling out of himself.

Someone’s made a wish.

The moment passes. Bob’s vision clears. There, veiled in a shower of blue and gold confetti, is Eric; alone at center ice, face twisted in confusion as he looks around for the man who only moments earlier had been in his arms.

“You take the cup, you get one real wish,” the decades old, bourbon-lacquered voice of his first coach reminds him. “But only the one. Can be something small, like an empty cab in the rain, or it can be something big. World changing, even. The one thing, the most important thing — ”

“No,” Bob breathes. “Please, no.”

“— You never use your wish on another player.”

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They don’t know exactly what Jack wished for, but the next time Bitty’s blades touch the ice, it’s as if he’s stepped into the body of a new man. No more slurs. No more targeted chirps. He’s just one of the boys.

He plays. He wins. Then, the offers start to come.

NHL teams looking for fast wingers, team players, leadership material; not one of them mentions diversity, or Eric’s status as the first out NCAA hockey captain. No one cares. No one remembers Jack, and no one cares about Eric.

The best and worst case scenarios rolled into one. If this is the reality Jack unknowingly traded his existence for, Bitty has no choice but to walk through the door his partner opened.

Bitty swallows, trying to force the words out on one of his now nightly calls with the man who would have been his father-in-law in another world, if the shared connection between them hadn’t been interred in a Montréal cemetery almost a decade prior.

“I think . . . I think he wished for acceptance.”

___________

___________

___________

“No one remembers anymore.”

Eric scuffs his skate against this ice, building up a small pile of shavings before scattering them again, focusing on the soft white as if somehow he’ll be able to transport himself bodily to somewhere cool and quiet. Jackson Hole. Banff. Tremblant. Anywhere but here. Anywhen but now.

“Saw Tater last week at a press junket. Blank stares all around. Some days, most days, I wake up and I don’t know how I got here. I can go without thinking of him.”

Weeks. Eric doesn’t say aloud. Months. Those hideous mornings when he wakes up beside a warm body and forgets they aren’t him. They aren’t supposed to be him. Was there ever even a him.

Jack. Eric mouths silently, just to remind himself. His name is Jack.

The details always slip. The universe constantly trying to correct the fallacy of Eric Bittle remembering a man who died before they technically ever met. Faded photographs and corrupted memory cards. Selfies that used to have two people in frame. Vlog posts with cosmic ADR, swapping Jack’s name for someone else’s like a hastily rewritten script. Eventually, even Eric’s memories turn traitor. First times lost to reshoots and post-production magic. Blue eyes are brown. Black hair is blonde. Jack becomes Phillip. Eric’s first love recast. In desperation, he pulls a page from Memento, finds a tattoo parlor and has ‘Jack Laurent Zimmermann’ inked in dark, unmistakable letters on his inner thigh. Adds a cup, the Falconers’ crest, and the date they lost everything. It works well enough until the name fades; there are still days where a hook up will ask why Eric has a championship tattoo for a team he never played with.

Now, all he has is Bob.

“That’s why I’m here.” Bob reminds. “That’s why we talk.”

“But what happens if we don’t.”

Bob’s familiar assurances rumble through the phone. Constant. Refusing to acknowledge the harsh realities of the passing of time. The ever-present doomsday clock moving them both toward disaster — Bob aging, Eric aging out. He’s good, but he isn’t great, and the only offers coming his way are single-season contracts with teams that haven’t sniffed a championship in years. One day very soon, there will be no more chances for Eric to undo what’s been done. No more favors to ask of teammates that have long since forgotten a world where Jack Zimmermann was a college graduate and a rookie MVP. Not just an addict. Not just dead at nineteen.

Eric listens to Bob ramble, asks him to tell him a story, to tell him about the Jack that Eric never really got to know. The Jack he can barely remember. A man that Eric has dedicated his entire life to honoring, to bringing back — from where he cannot fathom — and Bob obliges in a soft tone Eric imagines is not dissimilar from how he must have spoken to his son as a child.

Eric ignores his teammates rushing around him — tossing chirps and gentle insults about his ‘Sugar Daddy’ — and focuses on the accented voice in his ear; grasping desperately at the memory of a man who doesn’t exist. Pretending. Hoping.

__________

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Across the ice, Eric sees Kent Parson watching him. When they lock eyes, the aging star glides toward him, under a guise of one amicable captain greeting another. He’s pushing 37, and while the years of competitive play are starting to show, he’s just as viciously handsome as the day they first met. At least, Eric thinks he is. He can’t imagine a life where Kent Parson strolled onto a college campus and played beer pong at a frat party, but there’s a folder of old photos on Eric’s computer. Jack is in none of them, but there’s one of himself and Kent. Smiling.

Eric can’t recall why the image bothers him so much.

Parson used his wish years ago on something that he’s never bothered to share — and Eric’s far too much a gentleman to ask a man who was once a rival what he wasted his golden ticket on — but now, he’s slowing down, and this is supposed to be his farewell season. Going out with a bang, riding the high of his fifth cup win. He’s worked hard, and he deserves to shove the Penguins back down into obscurity for another season. Deserves it far more than Eric, with his selfish, single-mindedness that’s ruined god knows how many careers in the last decade between his own ruthlessness and Bob’s meddling.

Except. . . this is also likely Eric’s last season. His last chance to undo the great tragedy of his life, and Parson knows it.

“How you feeling, Peaches? You ready?”

Eric hates the nickname in the same way he hates when his father calls him ‘Champ’.

Eric fights his own shame because he wants to be honest, say, ‘No, I’m not ready, I’ll never be ready,’ but Eric can’t ask for what he wants, anymore. He wants the Aces to balk on a power play. He wants Parson to flub a pass and throw the game —  he even knows the man would probably do it, too — but Eric needs to come by a win honestly. They learned the hard way in 2022 when Eric hands were wrapped around the cup, wishing, praying, crying, pleading . . .

Clear eyes, full hearts, or some such bullshit.

Cheaters don’t get wishes.

“I can’t remember, anymore,” Eric admits as they square up across the face-off circle, the resigned terror of an inescapable end creeping upon him like the burn of an old injury ignored for far too long. “Kent. Please.” Parson leans down, rests his stick against the ice, and holds Eric’s gaze as if to say, I’m here. Trust me. Just play.

The puck drops.

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There’s someone watching him, young, handsome with dark hair and the kind of bright blue eyes that scream ‘notice me’ with all of the biological bluntness of neon plumage and a mating dance. The man weaves through the crowd, unnoticed by Eric’s teammates, and comes close enough that Eric can’t help but assume familiarity. He must be a fan, the way he’s flushed and excitable.

Eric’s drunk enough on the moment that he’s happy to indulge his baser instincts. He also literally can’t remember the last time he brought company home and if there’s ever been a night to get laid, it’s this one.

“Crisse, look at you, Bits.”

The man is caught between being awestruck and simply struck, reaching out to touch Eric’s arm but not quite making contact, like his depth perception is the tiniest bit off. He drops Eric’s old nickname so easily, so earnestly, that for a moment Eric thinks they might already know each other — but that’s impossible. Eric would remember someone so handsome, so very much his type.

“Only my friends call me ‘Bitty’.” Eric cautions, raising his half-empty champagne bottle in a mock toast and flashing his best ‘you’re coming home with me tonight’ smile. “But I’m more than happy to to get acquainted with you, Sugar.”

Eric isn’t usually this forward, this unrestrained. Tonight, it doesn’t matter, he’s celebrating: another championship, the end of a career, a life well lived. It’s to be expected. What isn’t expected is how the man’s relieved smile falters; as if Eric’s unbridled joy is somehow misplaced.

“Bitty? It’s me.”

“And ‘me’ is called . . . ?”

On very few occasions in Eric’s life has he been able to witness true devastation first-hand; and those instances were related to deaths, hockey losses, or blackout morning afters.

“Jack.” The man says softly, face slack with surprise. “It’s. . . Jack. Bitty, you know me.”

“If we’ve met before, I’m sorry,” Eric apologizes, hating to see the kid look so defeated. “I meet so many people — ”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Eric catches sight of Bob Zimmermann and waves, delighting in the way Bob’s face lights up when he catches sight of Eric, practically going supernova when he notices Jack as well, crossing the ice like a man possessed; Bob moves to pull them both into a hug but Eric’s new friend holds up a defensive hand and Bob stops mid-gesture.

It’s extremely apparent something is off, and between the reporters, the confetti, the champagne, and the fans, Eric is missing all of the context clues.

“Just won my last cup,” Eric singsongs, gesturing with the bottle between his mentor and the man Eric would very much like to fuck — who look very similar now that Eric can see them side by side. “Everyone’s super excited, right? Yeah? So, what’s going on. Did someone die?”

“No.” Bob says quickly, eyes flicking between Jack and Eric warily. “No. Not . . . that.”

“Severely injured?”

“. . . Non.”

“Okay, then, we should be celebrating!” Eric throws his arms wide and nearly clocks a passing teammate. “No more party pooping, Bobbert. Speaking, this is my new friend, Jack. Jack, Bob, Bob, Jack. Though, I’m getting the feeling you two might know each other. Or might be . . . related.” Eric gasps and smacks his free palm against his forehead. “Oh my god, the Tremblant retreat? Is that where I know you from? Listen, I was fucked up on pain meds that whole weekend, I am so sorry if we’ve already met.”

Despite Eric’s continued attempts at clarifying their shared mystery past, Jack keeps looking at Bob with that same wounded expression and it’s really killing Eric’s buzz.

“Bob.” Eric redirects. “Help me, here. Cutie’s nervous.”

“Eric, this is my, ah, well,” Bob’s smile is so forced, so tense, it looks more like a grimace. “Well, this is my son, Jack.”

There is only one ‘Jack’ Eric has ever known in relation to Bob Zimmermann, and he is not someone to be mentioned in polite conversation.

“Your son?” Eric echoes slowly. “Your son, Jack.”

Bob realizes what Eric’s tiptoeing around and casts a furtive glance toward the younger man, lifting two fingers to his cheek conspiratorially to imply ‘it’s a long story, not meant for public ears’. Eric knows how to play along.

“Wow, okay, did not expect that, but now that you’re saying it, I can one-hundred-percent tell. You have the same, well, everything.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand for an obligatory shake, not missing the way Jack’s features twist up into something caught between flattery and misery, before staring down his pseudo-mentor.

“My question is this, where have you’ve been hiding him — because how long have I know you, Bobby? Shame.”

“I’ve been . . . away.”

Jack’s tone is weighted with context Eric absolutely does not possess, but can definitely read into. Given the age difference and Alicia’s conspicuous lack of attendance this evening, Jack’s definitely a love child from some 90s Zimmergroupie. Or, original Jack didn’t actually OD and Bob spirited away his kid to keep away the prying eyes of the public; but that wouldn’t explain the age difference or the shared name.

Oh, Bobbert.

“Couldn’t wheel him out too soon,” Bob jokes, but Eric can tell the man’s heart isn’t in it, reinforcing Eric’s suspicion.

“Well, I’m happy you did,” Eric says graciously, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “He’s very handsome, when he isn’t doing this Eeyore impression.”

“Just like his father,” Bob says reflexively —  defensively —  as Jack goes pink. “Eric, will you excuse us for a moment? Back in five minutes, tops.”

Eric offers a gracious wave, gaze lingering on Jack’s retreating back — and backside, bless — watching Bob rest a firm hand on his son’s neck, gripping tightly to lean in and furiously whisper something. As Eric watches, Jack looks back over his shoulder; it’s not the fond glance of a potential paramour. Regret, maybe? Grief, definitely.

He must be as disappointed to be cock-blocked by his father as Eric is.

Across the ice, Kent Parson has rushed Jack, gathering him into a crushing embrace that the younger man returns easily —  burying his face against Parson’s pads; pulling back only when Parson grabs Jack’s shoulders to push him away, taking a long look at him, holding his face between his hands briefly before pulling Jack back into his arms.

They don’t just look like old friends, it’s a reunion of desperation, like the videos his mother sends of soldiers coming home from war, but before Eric can think better of it, a teammate fists a hand in the collar of Eric’s sweater and pulls — away from Bob’s forlorn love child and forgotten first meetings — and the night goes on.  

Bob doesn’t return. Neither does Jack.

Eric doesn’t even notice.

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[acnelli]

Bearded Glory

I finally found the time to put my one-shots on Tumblr too. I wrote this one for @hillyminne who organised and still organises these lovely hangouts. Here’s the masterpost with all the fun and lovely things which had been created as a thank you for Hilly <3 I would also like to thank @manny-bgm and @abradystrix for beta-reading and Brit-picking this story. You might detect some things inspired by Hilly’s art and @rijsamurai‘s Auror Ron.

When Ron came back from Auror training, Hermione found herself being quite fond of a certain change in Ron's appearance.

This story is also available on FFN and AO3.

Two bloody years finally over, Ron thought, as he robbed through thick, cold mud, already able to make out the finish line, which should be not even a mile away, according to Ron’s calculations.

Through the splashing and gurgling of their muddy underground, Ron could make out Harry’s heavy breathing and the occasional swear word from somewhere behind him. “Just one more mile, mate.”, Ron shouted, craning his neck towards his friend, almost hitting his head on a tree trunk above him. “One mile and we’re done with this shite.” Harry didn’t bother to answer as he was quite busy to ignore the burn in his lungs.

As Ron reached the end of their last obstacle, he leaped up from the ground, trying to get a footing with all the muddy water in his shoes. Not an easy task, since the ground was slippery and a fountain of water made its way down from his hair and drenched clothes. Careful to not lose his trainers, he ran towards the finish line with wobbly legs and what seemed to be a thousand tiny needles attacking his lungs. With a slight jump, and something between a groan and a cry of relief, he finally made it, immediately breaking down onto the ground.

“Well done, my boys.”, a chipper female voice broke through Ron’s awareness, though it honestly surprised him he heard it in the first place, considering he was wheezing his lungs out.

“Elly…please.”, Harry groaned, who must have collapsed beside him just a few seconds ago. Ron couldn’t tell for sure though, since he still tried not to pass out. “I…Just go away.”, his best mate demanded between heavy breaths. Ron only gave an agreeing grunt. Elly, their mentor and trainer for the last two years of Auror training, just laughed, kneeling between Harry and Ron, smiling down at them.

“You did it.”, she sang completely out of tune, while giving both men what probably should’ve been an encouraging pat on the knee. Although Ron and Harry yelped in pain from this pat on their scraped skin, and were still being unable to move a muscle, Elly stood up, clapped her hands and demanded of them to stand up.

“We just have an hour until you leave for home, and you will certainly not take this Portkey until I have a proper picture with my two accomplishments,” the young witch stated, hands on her hips, but still that annoying smirk in place.

Ron and Harry knew better than to argue with her about that. Truth be told, they didn’t have a problem with this particular picture, since they both wanted to have a reminder of the day that marked the ending of both the most annoying, but also the greatest two years of their lives.

“Alright, alright.”, Ron sighed, trying to muster up the little energy he got left to stand up, reaching his hand out to Harry, who did the same. With the two men standing in an upright position again, Elly gave them both one of her famous bear hugs, while telling her trainees how proud she was of them. Despite the still aching muscles and side stiches from hell, they returned the hug in earnest, while only just realizing that this was the start of a whole new adventure.

“We could’ve never done this without you.”, Ron smiled at Elly. “But you surely could’ve warned us about this last run, as you liked to call it. Honestly, we could’ve died or something.”

“You Gryffindors sure have a tendency to exaggerate, haven’t you?”

“I rather think you Hufflepuffs have a tendency to underplay,” Harry countered, cleaning his glasses.

“Said it before and I’ll say it again, you Hufflepuffs are barmy,” Ron said with a playful voice. “Before you drag us off to brag about us, where are the showers, woman?”

************

After taking a well-deserved shower, Harry and Ron changed into their formal Auror robes. And not their everyday work attire either, but the fancy black robes, which Elly insisted them on wearing. The two friends were both secretly happy to parade these around, since they looked bloody good in them.

Two years of Auror training lay behind them, and Ron was torn between feeling relieved and strangely sad. Those last four months happened to be their final Boot Camp, as Elly liked to call it, which mainly consisted of training for their Auror test. Due to the painful shortage of staff in the Auror Office, their training got shortened to two years, making it much more intense as a result. This last run though wasn’t part of the test, but nothing less than an Auror training tradition, so of course, it had to be done, much to the young men’s dismay.

“I have to admit…I kind of like this.”, Ron mused, running his hand over his beard, as he watched his reflection in one of the mirrors of the changing room.

“Suits you quite well, mate.”, Harry said, as he closed the last silver button on his cloak.

Neither of them had bothered to properly shave this last four months. Their days usually consisted of waking up, training and learning all day, and sleeping as soon their heads hit the pillow. As a result, they both looked quite wild in the end, hair and beard much longer than usual. Of course, Elly wouldn’t have any of this, so she had given Ron and Harry a complete make-over the day before their test, ignoring their protests all together. As it turned out, she happened to be quite talented with beauty charms, so they didn’t exactly hate the way they looked now. Even though Ron usually never let his facial hair grow beyond some three-day stubble, Elly surprised him with only trimming his unruly beard, leaving it just well-groomed.

“Come on, let’s get this picture, and then we can finally leave for good.” Harry suggested. So, they both gathered their wands and made their way towards the rest of their group.

After what seemed to be a thousand blinding flashes, Elly had been satisfied with the result, promising them to send copies of the pictures as soon as possible.

Harry and Ron were ready to take the Portkey home, saying goodbye to everyone and promising to make it on time for the official festivities next weekend.

In all the hustle to get the Portkey on time, Ron completely missed the mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes.

************

Hermione tried not to stare. Actually, she figured that she never tried harder to not look at Ron. Of course, she failed spectacularly.

Harry, you sneaky little monster., Hermione thought, sending one of her death glares his way, which he successfully didn’t notice all evening.

That bloody picture was my undoing, really. And Harry is well aware of that, isn’t he?

Around midday, a couple of hours before Ron and Harry came back from their last day of Auror training, Harry’s owl Athena arrived at her parents’ home, delivering a small envelope. After taking the letter, she fed the exhausted bird some treats, and let her relax in her room for a while. She came all the way from the Isle of Skye after all.

What was so important that Harry couldn’t tell her in person tonight? As she opened the white envelope, there was just a single photograph falling out. She picked it up from the floor, reading the note on the back of it first.

Dear Hermione,

thought you might appreciate this picture Elly took of Ron, minutes before his wandless magic demonstration. Honestly, look at him Hermione…you got some fine ginger snack coming back to you.

See you later,

 Harry

As she turned over the picture, she couldn’t help but agree. Ron clearly hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t cared that Elly took pictures of him, as he looked concentrated and nervous. His eyebrows knit, and eyes slightly narrowed, he held up his right hand, obviously practicing the lightning charm, as lightning bolts evolved from his half-closed fist.

This alone could’ve resulted in Hermione starring at this picture forever, but what really got her obsessing over it, had been Ron’s beard.

Ron with a beard. An actual beard. And by all that’s holy, he looked so incredibly good with it.

Merlin, she already had been more than a little frustrated the last four months, not being able to see him. Of course, this hadn’t been the first time they were separated for so long, but this last training session sure felt torturously like forever. Seeing a bearded Ron, illuminated by lightning, looking highly dangerous, made her want to take Ron right up to Grimmauld Place, skipping the dinner Mrs. Weasley was hosting tonight, and just snog him senseless. Naturally this wasn’t possible, so here she was, trying to get her thoughts under control.

Hermione swore to herself to never talk to Harry again about Ron, drunk or otherwise.

 Just before Harry and Ron were leaving for Auror training, the three of them met up with the old D.A. members. While Ron still had been busy with one of Seamus’ famous drinking games, being the only one of the Trio to still keep up with it, Hermione confided in Harry that she wished for Ron to grow a beard.

“I love his stubble, but I’m sure he would look quite sexy with his beard a little longer.”, she had told Harry.

He looked at her funny for a second, before breaking out in a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”, she asked angrily, since Harry seemed to be unable to stop.

After several minutes of Harry trying to control himself, and Hermione getting more and more annoyed, Harry was able to speak again. “You know, I just had that thought.”, he whispered, clearly still trying not to laugh. “Since you obviously have a thing for bearded men, I wonder how you could control yourself around Hagrid.” Another fit of laughter broke out, but it didn’t stop him from wheezing out “Or Dumbledore.” That was Harry’s undoing then, because after that, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore, and already got himself a nasty side stich from all the laughing.

Needless to say, that Hermione ended this conversation right then and there.

Of course, Harry hadn’t forgotten about Hermione’s little confession, and decided to send her a tease right before she would see Ron again.

Would it be too obvious to pretend a stomach ache at this point?

As Hermione mused about the possibilities to sneak away with Ron, she stole another glance at him, only to discover that brilliant blue eyes stared right back at her. His eyes happened to have this certain glint, which always meant he was up to something. Hermione sincerely hoped it would include leaving early tonight.

After what seemed like forever, Ron finally beat Ginny in a mean game of Wizard’s Chess.

Although still being quite impatient to get home, Hermione put the time to good use in unashamedly ogling Ron, her former intends not to stare long forgotten.

“Finally, some decent competition again. I got bored out of my mind only playing against Harry and Elly the last four months”, Ron said while pulling Hermione onto his lap. He loosely slang an arm around her waist, and Hermione immediately leaned into him, feeling all warm and cosy as she started to trace his brain scars with her fingers. Merlin, she really missed him.

“I’m still better than Elly though”, Harry pointed out, helping Ginny to put the chess set away. “So, I guess Ginny and I call it a night then. Are you sure your bed is large enough for the both of us?”

“I admit that you got yourself some fine definition being away, but you didn’t exactly gain a ton of muscle, Harry. You’ll fit”, Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, which Harry answered with an eyeroll.

“Maybe that had been the polite way to say you got fat over the last couple of months.”, Ron offered Ginny another explanation, earning himself a blow to his shoulder.

“You better stop being cheeky, if you want Grimmauld Place to yourself tonight.”, his sister countered.

“Wait, what?”, Hermione asked Harry. “You’re not staying at Grimmauld Place?”

“Nope. Ginny and I are kipping at the Burrow tonight. The house is all yours, under the condition to have it to ourselves tomorrow.”, Harry clarified.

Hermione couldn’t hold back her grin as she looked up at Ron. These are fantastic news.

“That’s very…considerate of you, thank you.”, Hermione smiled at Ginny and Harry, which made Ron bark out a laugh.

“Yes, thank you Harry.”, the red-head said. “As you did this out of pure nobleness and chivalry, and certainly not because you lost to me tossing a coin.”

************

“So…after you won the house for us, what are your plans?”, Hermione murmured between kisses, her hands busy with Ron’s beard.

Ron gave her his trademark lopsided grin as he hoisted Hermione up in his arms, eliciting a surprised squeal from her.

“Well, what do you think about a long, nice bath for a start?”, Ron asked while carrying her up the flights towards the bathroom. “It had been an awful long time since we had one together.”

“True that. As long as it doesn’t make us too drowsy for some…night-time activities.”

“You know, it’s adorable that proper Ms. Granger still can’t say bad words.”, Ron laughed, kissing her reddening cheek.

“I can say bad words, you just wait.” Hermione tried to put up a glare, but failed due to the smile she just couldn’t put off her face.

“I’ll take you up on it.”, Ron said, sitting her down on the edge of the bathtub. With a flick of his wand he began to fill the tub with hot, soapy water, which gave the room a rich scent of pine needles and something delicious Hermione couldn’t quite place.

A few minutes later, she leaned against Ron’s chest, completely relaxed and ridiculously happy. Hermione enjoyed the vibration of his chest as they talked about Hermione’s last project at work and about Ron’s plans regarding the Auror department. Every now and then, Hermione reached up to stroke his beard, and if Ron noticed her sudden interest with his gin and cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Alright, enough about work. This is supposed to be romantic.”, Ron laughed, slightly tightening his grip around her middle. “Should’ve lit some candles.”

Hermione giggled as she wiggled out a little of Ron’s embrace to grab her wand, intending to light the chandelier behind them. Just as she freed her wand from the pile of clothes beside the bathtub though, something else fell out.

“Oi, that’s me!” Ron quickly snatched the picture up from the ground and settled back into his prior position in the bathtub. Hermione tried to hide her blush behind her hair, as Ron read Harry’s note on the back of the photo. Something between smugness and embarrassment appeared on his face, and the longer he looked at Hermione, the more it seems to become smugness.

“Do you like my beard, Hermione?”, Ron asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, as he put his arms around her again, pulling her against his chest.

“I might have told Harry that a beard would look good on you.”, Hermione sighed, and forgot about her embarrassment, when Ron started to kiss the side of her neck. “And he obviously didn’t forget about it.”

Ron caressed her cheek to turn her head towards him. He gave her a long, heated kiss that left Hermione breathless, before retreating again, looking at her with a huge grin on his freckled face. Before Hermione could snog the smug grin away, Ron had to say one more thing.

“Well, feel free to enjoy it. All this Bearded Glory.”

[queenofthefallenangels]

Think Twice Part 15

Jon Moxley/ Dean Ambrose x OC X Seth Rollins 

Rated: M

Warnings: None just sadly not much Jon. 

Tag: @abadamn​

Aria

My walk home was flooded by memories and flashbacks. Everything that I had still forgotten was coming back. Everything with Dean, from the kiss to my crush on him. He was the one who I always wanted to date, but I never thought he would give me the time of day. Back before we became friends, he was sort of a player. He had tons of girls on his arm. I was nothing like those girls. They were sexy and loved to show off their bodies. They had confidence in themselves. They also didn’t live in their father’s shadows all the time. They were the perfect girls for him. Now, I don’t even deserve him. His smooth freshly shaved skin had now grown into his beard. I couldn’t tell which I liked him more. I had to say there was something about him with a beard that I just could get enough of. Something about it just made him seem more masculine and manly.  It felt even better down there. 

I still couldn’t believe I had been fooled by him. He barely changed his look. It was how he knew my favorite flower and called me, kitten. The only other person to call me kitten was Dean. I rarely even heard that pet name outside of him and maybe a couple of books. It was why I felt special when Dean gave it to me. I was the only one that he called that. I was his kitten.

I sighed, feeling tears in my eyes again. I had gone home and changed clothes from last night into black leggings and an old baggy t-shirt. I didn’t bother to do my makeup. I knew I was going to be crying on and off all day. I called into work and took another day off. I knew I was going to need it after the morning I had. I wouldn’t be able to get an ounce of work done.  I didn’t want to believe that what Dean had said in the letter had been true. Seth couldn’t have been a part of my father’s death, right? There was no way that he could. I hoped so badly that Dean was wrong about what had happened between them. 

The walk to Seth’s gym felt longer than usual. I couldn’t stop crying the whole way there. Once I walked up to the building, I did my best to clean myself up, wiping my eyes before heading in. It had been in vain though, as soon as I walked into the class that Seth was teaching and saw him there, I felt like crying all over again. He had his long black hair pulled back into a low bun. He wore a shirt with the sleeves cut out of them and some blue basketball shorts. His attention was fixed on his students. I sat back in the back, trying my best to blend in. It had been a while since I saw him teach a class. Most likely right before my accident so over a year. It was one thing I could tell that he loved. It didn’t even matter what he was teaching or what age group, he loved to do it. Fitness was something he took seriously and he liked to help others take it seriously too. He always pushed me to eat better and join one of his crazy diets with him. He would say that there is nothing wrong with me, but it wouldn’t hurt to eat healthily. I always hated his diets, because he never believed in a cheat day. I craved all the foods that he never wanted me to eat. He would tell me how they have too many fats or it was too late to be eating that. I hated him sometimes for it, but I knew it was for my own good.  

His eyes flickered to me. “Alright guys, I am going to let you off early today. You guys did some good work today.” He dismissed his class before he walked towards where I was standing. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your class.” 

He shook his head, “Nonsense, you are always welcome.” He said kissing my forehead. I did my best to not cringe at his touch. “Would you like to go to my office to talk about what is going on?” He said as he whipped a loose tear from his eyes. I nodded. He touched my waist as he led me to his office. On his way to the office, he stopped and grabbed a water bottle. He opened the door for me as I stepped inside. It was only a week ago, but it felt longer for some reason since I had been in his office. I didn’t want to think about what happened last time. 

Seth crossed off to his desk, sitting on the edge. “So, what brings you here, Aria?” He asked before taking a big drink. 

I opened my mouth, but it suddenly had become dry, “I found out some things today.” I took a deep breath. “How long have you known about Dean?” 

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean Dean?” He asked his question carefully. His eyes stayed on mine. “I thought he was in Ohio or something.” 

“Don’t play games with me, Seth. I know you know who Eli really is. That’s why you warned me to not go near him. I always wondered how you could possibly know him. You haven’t really been around the ring in a while. Unless that was a lie too. I wouldn’t put it past you.”  

Watch your mouth.” Seth snapped. “I apologized for all the wrong that I have done to you. How many more times are you going to bring it up just to force me to apologize?” 

“Until it sounds like you mean it,” I snapped back. “Why did you keep his secret for him if you are so against him? Unless,” I said as I reached into my bag. “Unless he had a secret about you that could ruin your chances with me ever again.” I slammed the note on the desk. “I cannot believe you would do such a thing.” 

Seth took the note and read it. I could see the anger turn into something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it might be remorseful. “Aria, there is a lot you don’t understand about that.” He began, but I quickly shut him down. 

“So, you killed him. You and Charles killed my father.” The tears were coming up again in my eyes. “How-how could you do that to me? Were you that hell-bent on getting control of me that you would kill the only family I had left?” 

He shook his head, “No, of course not. Aria, this wasn’t about me trying to gain control of our relationship. This was about me protecting you.” 

“Protecting me? Protecting me from what?” 

“My father!” Seth said as he stood from the desk. He walked over to where I was sitting and got down on his knees. He was eye level with me. When I tried to look away, he forced me back to look at him. His finger hooked with the bottom of my chin pulling my back to his dark brown eyes. “He wanted to hurt you. Your father was thinking about leaving us and taking you with him. My father had a lot riding on this. He thought if he could hurt you, it would make him reconsider. I begged him not to do it. I couldn’t stand the idea of something happening to you. It wouldn’t be pretty. I wanted you to be safe. I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

“What about the car accident?” I asked. I was trying to put all the pieces of this puzzle together. I felt like I was trying to put two different puzzles together with no boxes, but all the pieces were in the same pile. 

“That hit was meant for Dean. It was never meant for you. I hated myself that you got hurt by that.” He rubbed his thumb against my chin. “I never knew that you would be going near him that night.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I stood up from where I was sitting. “That doesn’t change the fact that you went after him. For what? What did he do to you? Was it because you found out about the kiss? His feelings?” 

“It should have been,” Seth growled low. “It should have been all of that. I told you a million times to stay away from him. Did you listen? No. You said that he would never do anything that interferes with our relationship. Well, imagine my surprise when I am right that he would do something and you should have stayed away in the first place. This note proves it.” He said taking the note off the desk and throwing it at me. “Aria, all I have ever wanted to do is protect you from getting hurt.” 

“Well, you should have protected me from you!” I snapped. “You hurt me in ways that I can’t begin to explain. You did it so easily that you would think that you enjoyed hurting me. First the cheating and now my father. Do you even see how this could hurt me in so many ways? Then hiding it all with your stupid lies.  I wouldn’t have been even able to see all this if it wasn’t for..” I stopped. How could I be so blind to all of this?   

“And, what if I told you that some of those stories about me cheating were made up by someone who was jealous that I got you first?” He crossed his arms leaning against the desk. “The only one that is real is Becky. That one I will say sorry for. The rest are lies.” 

“How do I know that?” I said. I didn’t want to believe him. 

“Well, did you have any proof? You had proof of Becky. It was right there on my phone. Which you would have never even thought of looking at, if Alexa didn’t fill your head with lies and tell you to leave me.” 

“What are you getting at, Seth?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Think, Aria, Think. The same people who want you to think I am the bad guy are the same ones who lied to you and made up this whole charade with Dean being Jon. Dean basically tricked you into bed with him.” 

I shook my head. “He said it was a mistake. He didn’t think it would happen.” 

Seth tsked softly at me. “Of course he is going to tell you that. No man will admit they planned to trick someone into having sex with them. That would be horrible. Dean wants to be the good guy here. That’s why he makes me look like the bad guy.” 

I froze thinking for a moment. Then I looked up at him, looking him dead in the eyes. “You tricked me. You have been trying to trick me into coming back in your office so that we can fuck and make up already.” I held up my hand when I saw him try to speak. “You are the bad guy though. I am not saying Dean is the good guy in all of this, but you still had a hand in my father’s death. I didn’t forget this. You tried to trick me. You are always trying to trick me. You killed my father and messed with my memory.” 

“I also didn’t wear protection last time we had sex.” 

I stopped, “What? What does that have to do with anything? I am on the…” 

“Pill. You left it at my house. Funny, I don’t think that works if you don’t take it every day at the exact same time. It has been a long time since you were at my house taking it on the regular.” 

“You tricked me again. You tried to knock me up!” My fist clenched though I was trying to resist the urge to smack him across the face. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was. How blind I had been to everyone and everything. I didn’t know who I could trust anymore. Seth could still be right about a lot, but it was hard to tell what was a lie and what the truth was within him. The lines were so thin. It didn’t even matter if he was telling the truth or not. He still helped kill my father and tried to trick my memory.

“Well, I mean we got a couple of weeks before the signs of pregnancy start. You don’t know if you had the baby yet or not.” 

I shook my head in dismay. “I cannot believe it.” I turned to walk out the door. 

“I am giving you a family, isn’t that the one thing that you always wanted. You always wanted a family.” 

“You took my family away from me, Seth! You killed my father. I don’t even care why anymore.” 

“It was an acc-” 

“Save it,” I said, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t care what it was. It was the worst thing you could ever do to me. Baby or no baby, we are never going to get back together.” I marched out of the office. I didn’t want to know the details anymore. It wasn’t worth the heartbreak over. I was better off not knowing why my father had to die. 

Now there was a bigger problem, where was I going to go tonight? I couldn’t stand to look at Alexa after everything that came out. I needed some time away from everyone. I knew I would have to see her at work, but that was enough for me right now. I needed more alone time. I stopped at the bus stop so that I could get to the nearest hotel...at least for tonight.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

While James and Lily are together, Sirius and James drift a part. Sirius is kidnapped by death eaters and after months manages to escape. Sirius finds James a lot more affected than he thought he would be.

"Hey, you want to do something tonight?" Sirius asked as they left work. 

"Nah, I was going to hang out with Lily," James said. 

"You've been spending every night with Lily. Take a night off to spend with your best mate," Sirius said, slinging an arm over his shoulders. 

James gave a small laugh like he was trying to remember how he used to react when Sirius did this. 

"It's called variety," Sirius said, ignoring the sinking in his stomach. "C'mon, what's the harm?" 

"No harm," James said, shifting away in such a way that Sirius knew he wanted that arm gone. Sirius let it drop back to his side. "I just want to spend some more time with Lily. Something wrong with that?" 

"Nope," Sirius said, instead of what he was thinking, which was that yes there was something wrong with that. All James wanted to do now was spend time with Lily. He kept blowing off Sirius, no matter if they had plans ahead of time or not-- and no matter what Sirius offered to do. Hanging out didn't get James interested, and neither did listening to a Quidditch match or going out for drinks. He never wanted to do anything with Sirius anymore. 

Sirius had sort of thought that James would grow out of it. That he'd get over the novelty of having a girlfriend and learn how to split his time, just like he'd always promised that he would. 

"I guess I'll just see you when you get home, then." 

"Yeah," James said. He didn't bother to smile at Sirius or add anything else. 

*

Sirius wished he could say he was surprised that James was moving out, but he hardly spent any time there anymore. Moving in with Lily made sense, what with him staying the night there more often than not. 

It had been a long, consistent slide into losing his best friend. He'd tried to make time for James. He'd invited him to lunch, organized game nights for the Marauders to get together, and a dozen other things, none of which James took him up on. 

They'd just... grown apart. James was moving on with his life. Sirius wanted to stay the way that they were as soon as they left Hogwarts, but James had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend, made the relationship serious, and decided that he wanted to go somewhere further with it. 

Friends drifted apart. It happened. Sirius had just never thought that it would happen to him and James. 

The war sure as hell didn't help matters, because then the free time that any of them had went down. Not only did their work as aurors take up more time than before, but Dumbledore had a wide variety of things that needed to happen and not very many Order members to take care of it. It was war and it was hell, but Sirius felt like he would've been able to handle it a lot better if James still caught his eye and grinned to let him know that he thought everything was going to be okay.

*

James blinked, feeling like the floor had been taken out from under him. "What?" he heard himself ask, as if from a distance. 

Dumbledore's expression didn't change. "I'm sorry, James." 

"Thanks for telling us," Lily said after a moment, when it became clear that James wasn't going to say anything further. 

It was several minutes before James said anything. Lily made him a cup of tea, and he wrapped his hands around the mug without looking like he was aware of it. "He can't be dead." 

Lily didn't respond to that. Denial was part of the process. She knew that they hadn't spent a lot of time together lately-- since she started dating James actually, and Merlin if she didn't feel guilty about that-- but a few short years ago, they'd been as close as two people could possibly be. That was going to take a toll on a person no matter what. Lily rubbed his back. 

"He can't be dead," James said again, but his voice was thick and there were tears gathering in his eyes. His hands were starting to shake, and Lily took the mug out of his hands before he sloshed tea on himself. "We never- he kept trying and I-" 

"It's okay," Lily muttered, wrapping him in a hug. "It's okay." She knew that it wasn't, but it would be eventually. That's how all of this was going to turn out. No matter how much hell it was while they were in it, if they were alive after the dust settled, they'd learn to live with it; they had to. 

*

Sirius had been surprised when he blacked out surrounded by Death Eaters and then woke up again. He was too dangerous to keep alive, or so he'd thought. Not to mention that Order members weren't taken captive. Torturing traitor wizards apparently wasn't as much fun for Death Eaters as doing it to Muggles. If they felt like they had something to prove, then yeah, they'd make an example of someone. 

Sirius had been afraid that that was his fate, but after being locked up for weeks, it was clear they had something else in mind. Hell if he knew what it was, though. 

He didn't know how long he'd been there. He'd tried to count, but it was useless. He was on the edge of starvation, and with pretty much nothing to occupy his attention, he lost track of time. 

When help came, it was in the most unlikely place that Sirius would've thought to find it-- Snape. He looked like he'd rather be doing literally anything else the entire time that he helped him escape, but he did help him escape and that's pretty much all Sirius cared about. "Why are you doing this?" Sirius asked after they were out of the house. 

"That's none of your concern," Snape sneered. It was equal parts likely that he'd finish helping him or kill him. 

"It's a little my concern," Sirius argued weakly-- weak because he felt like he was two seconds away from passing out, not weak because he doubted himself. 

Snape grit his teeth and said nothing. Nothing until, at least, they were much farther from the house and he was shoving a portkey into Sirius's hands. "I'm only doing it for Lily." 

Sirius didn't have a chance to respond to that because the portkey kicked in, and he landed in the lobby for St. Mungo's. 

*

Sirius knew that the smart thing to do would be stay in hospital for a while longer, but he felt too vulnerable there. As soon as he felt like he could safely make it back to his flat, he did. 

And then he was confused. "Where the hell's all my shite?" he wondered aloud. Some of it was still around. It's not like it had all vanished, but parts of the living room were packed up, likely in the boxes sitting in the corner. His record player was still out, but the shelf that had held all of his records was bare. The couch was exactly where he'd left it, but the muggle painting Lily had given him was gone. 

He shuffled to his room and found that it was the same. His bed was still there, but the sheets and blanket were off of it. He couldn't see a pillow by looking around, which was a shame because he'd wanted to take a nap. Not that he really needed a pillow to take a nap. He'd been sleeping on the floor for the past... however long he'd been gone; having a pillow would be opulent to him. 

He collapsed on the stripped bed. It felt soft as a marshmallow. For a moment, he worried that he wouldn't be able to get to sleep, but he was exhausted. 

When he woke up again, it was light out. He stumbled to the kitchen and wasn't really surprised to see that there wasn't any food around. He should figure out what had happened, but first, he needed to find food. He missed James. 

That's exactly how the thoughts went in his mind. He went straight from thinking about food to thinking that he wanted to see James. James would probably feed him. James used to delight in making sure Sirius ate. It had been a long time since they'd done that, but- well, to hell with it. He wanted to see his best mate again, and he felt the right mix of belligerent and desperate. He wanted to see James again, and by Merlin, he was going to do it no matter what anyone else thought about it-- including James. 

The first step to that was getting dressed though, because he was still in the patient robe that St. Mungo's had dressed him in. He went for his comfiest clothes-- thankfully not packed away yet and still safely in his wardrobe-- and tried not to think about how they hung loosely off his frame. The closet was empty, but the wardrobe hadn't been touched. His sweatpants barely stayed on his hips. He felt like he was swimming in the jumper that he'd stolen from James back in seventh year. His hair was longer than it had been since he last dealt with it, and it was getting in his way. Every time he turned his head and had more hair following the motion than he expected, it jolted him a little bit, putting him on edge. He tied it back then shaved. He didn't have energy for a whole lot, but he'd never liked having a beard. 

Gripping his wand tightly, he apparated on the doorstep of Lily and James's flat. Or at least, what used to be their flat. With his own home being so weird, he wouldn't put it past them to have moved. He knocked on the door and waited anxiously. 

James was the one to open it. He had a mug in one hand, and the other on the door. "Hel-" He saw who it was, and his eyes went wide. The mug slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. 

Sirius jumped back automatically. "Bugger," he muttered. He drew his wand and repaired the mug, then vanished the liquid that had spread everywhere. He glanced up at James, who seemed to have frozen in shock. "Erm." Sirius bent down and picked the mug up, since it didn't look like James was going to do it. "You got any food? My flat's sort of been emptied. What's up with that, anyways?" When James continued to stare, Sirius frowned. "James? You okay?" 

From inside the flat, he heard Lily call, "James? Who is it? Are you okay?" 

"I think I broke him!" Sirius called back. 

There was a pause then the sound of running feet and Lily skidded to a stop behind James. "Sirius?" she asked, eyes welling with tears. 

"Who else would it be?" he asked with a crooked smile. He didn't understand this reaction at all. Sure they'd missed him, but it's not like they'd been very close when he was captured. 

"Oh my-" Lily said, her voice tight. She never finished, hands coming up to cover her mouth as tears spilled over. 

"Woah, hey, no need to- get all upset about it." Sirius shoved the mug into James's stomach, and his hands took it automatically. "I think your girlfriend's going a bit spare, mate." 

"Shite, come in," James said, one hand on the empty mug and with the other, he reached out and pulled Sirius into the flat. 

Lily threw her arms around him, thankfully not putting much weight behind it otherwise he would've fallen over. "You're so thin," she said when she pulled back, lip wobbling. "Food! Yes, that must be why you're here. I'll- I'll find you something to eat." 

Sirius watched her bustle back into the kitchen, frowning again. "How long was I missing?" 

"Missing? We thought you were dead," James choked out. "We were t-trying to pack up your flat; that's why all your food's gone." 

"Oh," Sirius said quietly. Dead. They'd thought he was dead, so they were taking apart his flat. Packing everything up. "Does that mean you have my painting?" he asked, because it was better than all the alternatives he could come up with. 

Instead of answering, James dragged him to the living room. The picture was to the side of the mantel place. On the mantel were a row of framed pictures. Over half had Sirius in them. "Stay with us," James said. It wasn't a request, not really. "You can't stay all by yourself, and we've got an extra room." 

"Isn't that something you should talk to Lily about?" Sirius asked. Not because he wanted to say no, but because this really wasn't a reaction he'd expected. Of course, he'd also thought that he'd been missing, not dead to them. 

"She'll say yes." 

"Are you sure-" 

"You're staying," Lily said, tone firm. She walked up to them and pressed a mug into Sirius's hands. "Drink this, it's got a nutrient potion in it." 

Sirius made a face-- nutrient potions tasted like shite-- but obediently took a sip. Pleasantly surprised at the fruity flavor instead of the bogey one that he'd been anticipating, he took a bigger drink. "You've still got my leather jacket, yeah? I couldn't find it." 

James pointed at the door, and for a heart stopping moment, Sirius thought that James was telling him to leave. Then he followed where he was pointing and saw that Sirius's jacket was hanging there, side by side with Lily and James's coats like he'd already been living there. 

"Oh." He didn't really know what to say. "Thanks." 

*

James stuck to Sirius's side like glue. Lily seemed worried about him too, and she was definitely watchful, but it wasn't the same. Sirius didn't know if it was overcompensating for blowing him off before his disappearance, but he felt like he should tell him to ease up; he didn't. Maybe it was guilt on James's part, but Sirius liked the attention. He had nightmares, and he knew that he wasn't going to have to deal with it all by himself. Any time he didn't want to be alone, he didn't have to be. 

*

"I think I'm going to break up with Lily," James said one day. 

"What?" 

James took a deep breath. "I think..." He took his glasses off and inspected the lenses for specks then put them back on. "I'm in love with you. And I don't think it would be fair to either of you for me to stay with her." 

"James..." 

James didn't look over at him. 

Sirius swallowed thickly. "You only think you love me because I was gone for so long." 

"Don't," James said, shaking his head. "I've thought about this. This isn't some spur of the moment decision. It's been weeks since you got back. That's more than enough time for me to figure out what I'm feeling. I almost- Merlin, Sirius, I couldn't live without you." He looked at Sirius, a haunted cast to his eyes that Sirius recognised from the mirror. "I wasn't me when you were gone. Ask anyone." 

Sirius wanted a hundred different things, and none of them were what he ended up doing. "I'm not going to jump into a relationship with you," he said, feeling like he was going to shake into a dozen pieces. "I need time to think." 

*

Sirius didn't mean to be around when James and Lily broke up, but it's not like he'd been warned to clear out directly beforehand. Plus, he'd sort of been thinking that, without the promise of a new relationship, James wouldn't break up with her. 

The flat wasn't exactly a coat closet, but it wasn't spacious, either. It meant that even though his bedroom door was closed, he could hear most of what they were saying in the living room. 

James said, "I think we should break up. I just don't think my heart's in it anymore." 

Lily said something that Sirius couldn't make out, then, "Is it Sirius?" 

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't know how I felt about him until after he got back and-" 

"It's fine." 

"It's... fine?" James repeated. 

"I'd be lying if I said I was surprised," Lily said. 

A pause. "I shouldn't be in your hair for very long. I've been meaning to clean up my parent's old manor; I can-" 

"No." 

"...No?" 

"You're staying here. We're safest when we're together. You can stay with Sirius in the second room." 

"Lily, that- it's incredible for you to offer that, but Sirius and I aren't together." 

"Yeah, yeah, you just broke up with me so you aren't officially together yet, but-" 

"No, I mean I told Sirius that I wanted to be with him, and- well. We're not planning to get together." 

"He doesn't feel the same way?" Lily asked. 

"I dunno. He didn't really say." 

"Then how do you know you're not getting together?" 

There was a slight pause between her asking and James answering, and even though he couldn't see it, Sirius knew that James was shrugging. "I think technically he said he would think about it, but what's there to think about? If I were him, I wouldn't forgive me. You remember what I was like, right? I just- kept bloody ignoring him all the sodding time." 

Lily said something too quiet for Sirius to hear, but it must have been good because all James did in response was sigh and say, "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right." 

If Lily weren't out there, Sirius would come out of his room and and tell James exactly where he belonged in his life, but he wasn't about to rub that in her face. 

*

"Hey," Sirius said hesitantly as he entered the kitchen the next morning. Lily had acted like she was cool with it while they were breaking up, but there was no telling if that was still true. Her and James had been together for over a year; she was entitled to be a little bitter. 

"Hey," she said, smiling up at him warmly-- just like she always did. "Did James tell you that we split?" 

No beating around the bush, there. That was comforting, at least, that he wasn't going to have to wait around for it to be brought up. "I sort of, erm, overheard it. Does it count as eavesdropping if it wasn't on purpose?" 

"Hmm, I don't think so, but maybe ask me when the war's over and that's my biggest problem." 

"I look forward to it," Sirius said, gingerly lowering himself into a chair. "You okay?" 

"I think so," she said, rotating her cup. "It wasn't really a surprise, you know? He was such a mess after you were gone, and then when you got back, I'd see him looking at you, and... well, it used to be the way he looked at me. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. I guess you already heard this part, but I want you to stay. I want both of you to stay." 

Sirius nodded. "Safer together." 

"And I don't want to be alone," she said quietly, eyes kept on her cup, which she was still fidgeting with. The relationship was over and I'm fine with that, but I don't want to have to come home to an empty flat every day. I don't want to wake up and know that I won't see anyone until I go to an Order meeting or head into work." 

Sirius nodded again, because he didn't know what to say. He found himself doing that a lot these days. He used to talk. He was tired of talking just to hear his own voice. He wanted to exist, wasn't that enough? "Did I ever tell you how I got out?" he asked. 

"No." 

"Snape did it." 

Lily's head jerked up to meet his eyes. Her hand went still. 

"He said that he was doing it for you." 

She swallowed. She looked back down at her cup. Took a deep breath and looked up again. She pasted a smile on her face and made it clear that she didn't want to talk about that. "You should tell James yes. I don't want you to say no because of me." 

Sirius gave a noncommittal, "I'll think about it," but by the end of the night, his answer was clear. He dragged-- read: he tugged lightly and James followed with no resistance-- James to their room and said, "No buggering way are you sleeping on the couch." 

"Right." He mussed his hair nervously. "I know that we used to do that and it didn't mean anything, but I figured, since you knew how I felt, it might change things." 

"Change things in a good way," Sirius said, giving his hand another tug. When James looked at him hopefully, Sirius smiled. "I said I needed time to think. I had time; I thought about it." 

"And?" 

"And," Sirius said, reaching a hand up to cup James's cheek, "I decided that a world without you isn't one I want to live in." 

[honey-hippie-harper]

Walking through the dark

Hello :’) ahdjabndms well...I didn’t enter the gift exchange (I WAS HAVING A BREAKDOWN I’M SORRY) but...ansdhnsj yeah :’) @honey-harper-official like I had already told you...I wanted to do something for you. You asked for angst about Adrian talking about his mom...but this turned out to be kinda Nodrian, I hope you don’t mind :’)

Idk what to say :’) You were an important part of this fandom, and I’m going to miss you a lot. Still, I am (I think we all are) proud you’re doing what’s best for you. Carry on <3

I hope you like this <3

And thank you.

I’m a little rusty in all this writing straights businesses

Walking through the dark

Two years after the Supernova, they were trying to “get more creative” with the parade, while trying to make it more affordable at the same time.  

This year, it looked like an illustrated book. There were no paid actors, nor were the Renegades on top of a float. If anything, they were patrolling alongside the rest of the teams, and the only extra checks were for the marching band and the drivers.

The first float was about the lift of the city, and it had a city in ruins, with Ace Anarchy standing above everything. The background was in greys and reds, which made his gold and blue costume glow like a traffic light in the shadows. By the right corner, were Queen Bee and Cyanide, turning their backs at the audience, and staring at Ace Anarchy instead.

The second float was about the Renegades’ first public appearance, standing at the front, ordered by height, while the Anarchists’ silhouettes stood behind them, taller and bigger, so they could fit into six different people.

The next one was the Puppeteers’. He was standing on a Ferris Wheel, with the strings coming from his hands tied around the Anarchists and the Renegades’ shadows. The Renegades had blue strings, and the Anarchists had red strings.

The following one was new, because her parents had never been in the floats before. It was a beautiful car, with colors that resembled the Milky Way, and it showed David Artino, with a woman (Tala Artino) and a little girl (Evie, now Maggie Artino) standing behind him, placing a star into an older girl’s hands (herself). There was another, golden silhouette behind them, too.

The Day of Triumph came right after. Ace Anarchy standing on the cathedral, and Captain Chromium watching him from below, Silver Spear in hand, and a little capsule on his back.

Then came the scene after the cathedral, with the Renegades standing together outside the building. No masks. One of them missing. The rest, bruised but victorious. Captain Chromium was holding the Silver Spear above his head, and the Silver Spear had the helmet, which was on Max’s head the following float.

The supernova. Max being the one standing above them. The two of them.

Adrian and Nova. 

The supernova float had a lot of colors, and it was Adrian’s personal favorite. Maybe that’s why Nova remembered the floats so well in the first place. She had spent a good amount of time discussing with Adrian about them.

She also remembered them because she was watching them from above when she fell from the roof.

It was an accident, and it was stupid.

In order to avoid having people scattered all over the place, the teams were asked to split this year. While Danna and Nova watched from two different roofs, Adrian, Oscar and Ruby were left on the ground. From her roof, Nova could see Adrian, and if she went across it, towards the space where the water tanks were located, she could see Ruby. However, Danna was the one who could see Oscar.

When the floats arrived into their assigned street, the security camera started bothering Nova more than it should’ve had. It wasn’t really misplaced, but it surely looked so to her, because she had once been here, and she was one to know about the tricks a person who had bad intentions could play. She also knew that two could play that game, especially if they both knew those tricks.

Now, the camera wasn’t misplaced. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. But Nova was stubborn, so she climbed on the edge of the roof anyway to go check on it. For some reason, the structure being slippery due to mold or water or whatever, never crossed her mind.

One moment, Nova was standing at the edge of the roof.

The next one, she was falling.

It happened so fast she couldn’t even scream or think, but somehow she managed to activate the emergency alarm in her bracelet, as the wind made her eyes tear up, and she felt her body suspended in time, though it was still falling, and falling, and falling.

First, the panicked swarm of butterflies reached her, careful not to block her vision because that would only make the death experience worse for her (yes, at the moment, Nova was sure she wouldn’t live to tell the story about how she fell from the roof) while also trying to help, perfectly knowing there was nothing they could do.

And, a few seconds after that, all Nova felt was a wave of overwhelming pain, when Thunderbird tackled her to stop the freefall and then wrapped her arms around her, flying all the way up to the roof, and then going down again. Nova had never been rescued by Thunderbird before, but she didn’t know one single person who said being rescued by her had been a pleasant experience. Her movements felt controlled and it was evident she knew what she was doing, but she was rough as hell, to the point where, despite knowing she had already been saved, Nova screamed for her life, until she was dropped on the ground in a mildly gentler way.

Upon stepping on stable ground, Nova realized this would be the dizziest she would ever be, and stumbled. Danna, who was already reformed, standing next to her, caught her by the arm so she wouldn’t fall.

At first, when she regained control over her senses, she heard nothing but Thunderbird’s ranting, and her voice demanding to see the entire Team Sketch, here and now, because, to put it lightly, Thunderbird was as blocked as her, and none of the two were able to hear Adrian in the distance, until they spot him.

He was bawling.

The parade was following its course, as they were trying to keep things as calm as possible, and Tsunami was still out there, acting as the only active council member at the moment, although aware of what was happening. Above all the noise and the commotion, Nova spotted Ruby politely nudging her way into the crowd, following Thunderbird’s call and, obviously, the emergency alarm sent by Nova when she was falling.

Oscar was also coming, although slower.

And Adrian was bawling.

Nova could see him knelt down on the floor, with Captain Chromium’s, who also happened to be his dad, arms surrounding him, holding his body tightly. The Dread Warden, his other dad, was there too, uselessly trying to block the scene.

Well.

Maybe his attempts weren't that useless, and it was only that Nova happened to be in the right spot, at the right time, from which Adrian’s silhouette was impossible to go unnoticed, even with the Dread Warden standing in the middle.

“Who’s riding with her in the ambulance?”

An ambulance.

The words almost didn’t make sense in Nova’s head, not even with Thunderbird’s voice, which was pretty clear most of the time, especially when she was talking to the recruits. An ambulance.

An ambulance, because Nova had fallen from a roof, and Thunderbird had caught her.

Half of her body was sore, because she had been hit by Thunderbird’s body after all, but Nova was pretty sure she didn’t need an ambulance. She didn’t need to go to the medical wing. If anything, maybe she needed some water, but she was sure nothing was broken, nor dislocated or sprained.

She was fine.

Adrian, in fact, looked way more affected than her. Nova’s heart was pounding, but she wasn’t bawling after all.

He was.

“I’ll do it.” Ruby said. “I’ll ride with her in the ambulance.”

She did understand that.

“I’m okay.” She said. “Literally, I’m doing good. I don’t need to…”

“Just in case.”

Thunderbird patted her shoulder, which made it hurt a little.

Even so, Nova was still convinced she didn’t need an ambulance.

Yet, said ambulance was already coming closer to her.

“I’m fine. I’m just fine.”

“Sssh.” Ruby came over and, as Danna let go of her hand, wrapped her arms around her, so Nova could use her as the human crutch she didn’t need. “It’s okay, Nova.”

“Don’t fight it.” She heard Oscar’s voice say.

Sweet rot, she was just fine.

Being bruised by Thunderbird wasn’t something that required her being taken to the medical wing, mostly because it hadn’t been her intention to hurt her. On the contrary, Thunderbird had saved her. She was okay.

They wouldn’t believe her, of course. It wasn’t a possibility.

It never was, when something as awful as this happened.

Ruby rode with her in the ambulance.

Adrian showed up into her room a few minutes after they started allowing visitors. His face seemed wet, and his eyes were red as cherries.

Then he got into the bed and rested his head on her chest, while she gently ran her thumb through the space below his ear, going all the way down to his chin, feeling the remnants of facial hair he had previously shaved, perhaps a couple of days ago.

For the next week, Adrian said nothing about it.

Nothing.

-.-

Nova had an intermittent schedule because, once she grew to accept the fact she also needed some spare time and do something besides work, she decided she couldn’t just work as part of the patrol units and work in the Vault. On the other hand, she also had refused to leave all the work to Callum, and it’s not like she didn’t like the Vault or hanging out with Callum. For instance, she decided she would be part of the patrol units for a week, and then she would rest from that the following one, working at night in the Vault instead.

So far, it was working. She felt more rested and relaxed, even on busy days.

The post-parade days were usually busy, if she wanted to be honest, mostly because of the things that had happened during the parade but nobody noticed them until everything was over.

Nova had covered a shift with the team when she was supposed to be getting ready to join Callum at night. In her defense, the parade was pretty stressful for everyone, even the Council, now that they have to work as staff. Still, that didn’t change the fact they were walking alongside the floats, following them through the entirety of the city by foot, with the patrolling teams working as their side view, checking if there was any threat in the spots they couldn’t see.

The Anarchists were gone, and so were the Rejects.

Both Winston and Leroy had stopped considering themselves Anarchists some time ago and, besides, they didn’t like the parade. If anything, Winston had speeded towards the Headquarters the moment they called to the house, saying Nova had fallen from a roof, but none of the two were among the crowd to see her fall.

“I would love to see them dressed in the patrol units’ uniform, though.” Winston said. Because, indeed, to make sure everybody knew they were part of the staff, they had chosen to wear patrolling uniforms, and not their official costumes. “But I won’t.”

And he didn’t.

At least, not a first.

The thing was…he did see them in the hallway when he came to the medical wing, but he was too busy freaking out to even make the slightest offensive comment.

It wasn’t until later, a few days after the parade, that, while laying on the couch, Winston started wheezing at how tight the uniform was on Hugh’s chest, how uncomfortable Kasumi looked (and how she had pulled up the sleeves), how Tamaya kept tugging on the fabric around her neck, and that photo where Simon was trying to get a little piece of tape off his clothes but, out of context, looked as if he were checking on his own butt.

Winston had a blast, but only after Leroy, Maggie and him were scared to death.

The Maggie thing was questionable.

A little. Nova wasn’t sure.

Because, just like Adrian, she didn’t mention anything about it after she snuggled up in bed with her as soon as she came home from the Headquarters.

But maybe that was just Maggie.

She was like that sometimes.

Adrian, from his part, wasn’t. He wasn’t one to be closed to his feelings. In fact, he was usually willing to talk about what was wrong and why he was upset, which was pretty useful to Nova because, even if she sometimes had some trouble admitting it, she wasn’t particularly good at reading signs. It was something she was working on, relentlessly, but Rome hadn’t been built in a day.

Maybe he was just worried.

Nova never called in sick. She rarely missed a couple of days at work, let alone the entire week.

The day of the parade, just like she suspected from the start, the healers didn't find anything unusual in her body. In fact, everything was as it should be apart from the bruises. Nevertheless, they did say she might experience some mild pain in the next hours.

And mild was only one way to put it.

Maggie had been asleep, curled into a ball, next to her, for a couple of hours already, when Nova felt the sudden urge to throw up, and when she tried to move, half of her body was so sore she couldn’t find the strength to run. Or walk, whatsoever. Instead, she somehow managed to reach for the trash can, and even that was painful as fuck.

People were right when they said Tamaya wasn't tender. Nova had had her doubts, but right now there were no doubts left. When she called to notify she wouldn’t be going to the Headquarters at all, nobody tried to convince her otherwise. People rather encouraged it, knowing Nova verged on workaholic.

Adrian texted her a couple of times, and they talked about stuff unrelated to the parade accident. Nova didn’t think anything about it, as she attributed that to the fact Adrian was as sensitive as he was open. Perhaps he thought talking about it would make her upset, despite her having left the headquarters seemingly unaffected when it happened.

Then, after Thursday, the texts stopped. They were having a conversation about pizza, and then he stopped. Which made sense, to a certain extent, because Adrian was part of a patrol unit after all, and Ruby had already told her they had a couple of night shifts these days.

Once again, she tried not to think much about it. Besides, once her muscles were a little less swollen, she agreed to paint flower pots with Winston.

Not that that was something she exclusively did with Winston. Everyone in the house had done it, because they were always trying to find ways to bond and, in this case, due to Winston’s suggestion, they had painted flower pots. So far, they  were trying their best. Maggie’s flower pot had pretty dark colors, because she claimed she liked those. Leroy’s was pretty simple, because he had just sketched some formulas and painted the top part in green. Winston had not one, but three different flower pots already, plus the one he was painting at the moment, all of them very colorful and with elaborate drawings. As for Nova...she was doing her best.

She wasn’t an artist, but, with tons of dedication, she had managed to paint her flower pot in black and blue. She was now writing her name in italics on it, thinking about how she might also draw some stars later...or tell Winston to help her draw some stars. It occurred to her it would look nice.

Their house was sort of small, meaning they had a small yard too, but it was big enough to have a small garden and to place a blanket, and sit on it while they painted.

Both Winston and Nova had awful postures, if she wanted to be honest, and hers was even worse now that half of her body was aching, though she could feel she was already getting better.

A lot, in fact.

At least now she could limp through the house without feeling like she was dying, and get into the shower without Maggie’s help (which she provided reluctantly).

Over the time they sat together, Winston and Nova did some small talk, not enough to get the other distracted from their work.

In fact, the sound of Nova’s phone vibrating distracted them more than themselves had managed to do.

Normally, she wouldn’t have answered any calls or text messages when she was in the middle of a bonding session but, somehow, she also figured it could be Adrian, so she discreetly lifted up her cellphone.

Adrian: Hey.

Adrian: Can you come outside?

“Is it Adrian?”

“It’s Adrian.”

Winston scoffed.

“Don’t make that poor guy suffer.”

-.-

Nova didn’t like bright lights, because she wasn’t used to them. Hence, when she was given the chance to decorate her own room, she chose to only illuminate it with night lamps instead of light bulbs. Not only did it make her feel more comfortable, but it also helped save money, especially when there were four people living in that house.

Her closet was right next to the door, and it was fairly messy, to the point where Nova managed to reach for a sweatshirt, without even opening the closet per se.

Oscar had given it to her as a present during her last birthday, and it was in full black. At the back, it had a phrase, written in a very small font: if you can read this, you’re too close.

Nova liked to wear it.

Maybe it wasn’t that adequate in this situation but, on the other hand, Adrian couldn’t even see it and, besides, it was more adequate than a paint-stained white t-shirt, which was what she was wearing underneath it.

Nova’s bed was made most of the time, as she rarely ever used it. It was a twin bed, of course, and she had filled it with cushions and some plushies, because one was never too old for plushies (she even managed to get a teddy bear that looked similar enough to Dolly Bear). On top of the bed, there was also a blanket Nova had been knitting ever since they had moved into this house. It was so long it fell to the floor, on the carpet, and it had several, several types of wool. Sometimes, when she felt sad, mad or stressed, she just knitted and knitted for hours, non-stop, sometimes until she got blisters in her fingers.

Needless to say, she was emotionally attached to that thing and Adrian, since he was her boyfriend, was aware of it, so he always tried to be very careful when he sat on it.

He was being careful even now, as he sat down on the bed, on top of the knitted blanket, and Nova sat on the swivel chair, although not without asking:

“Do you want something from the kitchen? I think Winston made some cookies yesterday. We also have orange juice and...pizza leftovers. The usual. So, do you...want something?”

Staring at her from the bed, through the light, Adrian smiled sideways, as he reached for her hand, lowering his gaze towards the small tattoo she had in her index finger. It was nothing special, just two dots, one next to the other. Each represented one of her parents. Adrian himself had helped her make it, back when Maggie arrived into the house and everyone was having a hard time adjusting.

(Nova had always had weird ways to cope with stress).

“Is there a reason why you’re so quiet?” Nova asked, carefully, knowing that’s what he had asked some time ago, when they finally sat down to talk about everything that had happened the previous weeks to the supernova. Especially, how he had taken her bracelet away in a rather personal way, and how that had hurt her.

They rarely ever talked about it anymore, mostly because Gatlon preferred not to talk about the supernova. Leroy often said that, like the Age of Anarchy, it was an event that had caused collective trauma. When people...people who weren’t the Council, or direct witnesses, that is, tried to talk about the issue, they automatically lowered their volume, though they knew there were no legal repercussions to the mention of the tragedy.

Still, it was delicate, so everyone just chose not to talk about it.

Nova, personally, and after some time of therapy, was open to tell her experience, though she rarely took the initiative to do it. Adrian was the same, more or less.

“Am I quiet?” He asked, his sideways smile widening. Nova tilted her head to the side, scoffing.

“Pretty much.” She confirmed. “And I don’t mean just in this very moment. Is there a reason why you’re pretending I don’t exist? You know...not texting back and such?”

For a moment, he seemed uncomfortable, and it occurred to Nova that, maybe, her tone hadn’t been the right one. Her voice was like that, but she usually managed to manipulate so it would fit in a situation the way she wanted it to.

“...I’m not mad, just so you know, but still, if you want me to know, then...I...I want to know too.” She cleared her throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adrian pushed his glasses up, with the tip of his pinky.

“How are you?” He asked after a while. His voice sounded delicate, almost weak, and thin as a thread.

For a second, Nova didn’t understand.

“I’m...good. How are you?”

He laughed in response, but it wasn’t a genuine laugh. Nova knew him well enough to know that had been a nervous chuckle.

“No, I mean…” He coughed. “Thunderbird hit you pretty hard when she...when you were…”

“Oh! Yes!” Nova felt immediately stupid, so she chuckled a little too, before pulling up one of her sleeves.

Adrian’s eyes widened.

The massive bruise was getting better, but it was still there, and it still hurt to the touch. Besides, obviously, it wasn’t only in her arm, but also in her entire side, before it abruptly ended in her thigh. She wasn’t going to show that to Adrian, because one couldn’t just start getting undressed in a serious situation. He was good with just watching her arm which, on its own, was already making him uneasy for some reason. “For some reason”, she said, because this wasn’t the worst wound he had seen on her skin. These were just bruises. There wasn’t blood or anything.

“It’s getting better.” She said. “A few days ago, I couldn’t even move, but now I don’t feel as sore. Winston and Leroy brought an ointment for me, and…”

She wasn’t yet finished, when she noticed Adrian was already taking out his marker, which he usually carried in his pocket, getting it closer and closer to the bruise, to which Nova flinched, taking it out of his reach.

“Easy there.” She said, smiling and arching an eyebrow. “It’s not necessary. It's healing on its own just fine.”

“Don’t fight it, Nova.”

“Adrian, it’s fine. I’m okay. I’m doing okay. Don’t wo--”

“You’re not doing okay. You have a bruise.”

“Duh! But it’s healing. It’s fine.” Nova grabbed her own wrist, tying to get her arm out of Adrian’s reach. The bruise burned.

“It’s not fine, Nova!”

“Chill, Adrian! Chill! What’s gotten into..?!”

“IT’S NOT FINE, NOVA!”

“Why are you screaming?!”

“IT’S NOT FINE!”

The marker wasn’t directed towards her. First, because she knew Adrian would never. And, second, because she could tell it wasn’t particularly aimed at anyone or anything. Still, he threw it anyway. And given that, for some reason, Adrian appeared to be pretty distraught, letting his marker fall didn’t feel fair. Hence, Nova tried to catch it, but the chair was sort of stretchy so, in the moment she leaned backwards, it looked like she was falling.

Gasping, Adrian grabbed her by the left wrist, very tight, to the point Nova almost felt he was going to get that bruised too.

The marker fell to the floor, on Nova’s knitted blanket, and she just stared at it, while Adrian stared at her, not letting go of her hand.

Silence fell among them, as the sense of overwhelming confusion surrounded them, making them feel like they knew nothing, or that they were meeting for the first time, or that, simply, they weren’t on the same page.

As the marker laid on the floor, Adrian gulped, and finally let go of her.

“I...I think it’s not the time. I should go. I should just…”

“No.” This time, Nova was the one who grabbed him by the wrist, trying to be gentle, but also firm. “Stay. Please.”

Once again, Adrian’s eyes found Nova. He looked lost, almost like a small child, and where Nova had asked for a favor...kind of like a request, he had heard a command for some reason.

He didn’t move, but Nova did.

After picking up the marker, she moved towards the bed, sitting cross-legged, feeling the cushions behind her.

She placed the marker between them, but Adrian didn’t take it. Instead, he kept staring, until Nova took a deep breath and placed a lock of hair behind her ear, straightening her back.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then take your time.” She said. “But we can do something else. We can...paint flower pots with Winston. We could try to go on a date. Watch a movie. Nap for two days…”

That one last line was meant to be delivered as a joke, but Adrian didn’t catch it, and if he did, it wasn’t funny enough to get a reaction from him.

Sighing, Nova filled her cheeks with air, and then let it go, trumpeting with her mouth, and grabbing her own ankles, as she turned away, staring at the ajar closet.

“Nova?”

Upon hearing her name, Nova became alert, just nodding, so he knew he could go ahead, which he did after a while.

“I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“What are you talking about, Adrian?” She asked in a soothing voice, to which Adrian fidgeted with his own fingers, suddenly incapable to look her in the eye.

He was frozen.

And he couldn’t.

“When...when you were falling...when you were falling from that roof…” Adrian squirmed, frowning, and massaging the bridge of his nose. Hesitating. Maybe scared. Maybe a little confused.

Nova waited for him.

“When you were falling from that roof, before Thunderbird caught you… before we realized you were okay...before… before...before everything was okay.” He gulped, still not being able to look her in the eye.

“...It’s like…” he scratched his own arm. “...It’s like I almost saw her.”

Her.

Her, wh… ?

Something clicked inside of her brain, and all the dots connected with each other.

Suddenly, Nova remembered the one who had fallen from the roof, and taken half of the world with her in the process.

Georgia Rawles’ ghost was hanging from the sky, but not this one; she was hanging from another sky, perhaps the same one Nova’s parents were, and nobody could see her, nor hear her.

Nevertheless, they could feel her. And her absence stabbed the ones who had loved her in the stomach, perforating their insides.

Choking down a gasp, Nova took her hands to her mouth, remembering how she, too, had fallen from a roof, and for a second she saw nothing but Adrian knelt down on the floor, clinging on his dad.

“Adrian.” She whispered, in a suffocated voice. “Adrian, I’m sorry, I…”

She stared into his eyes once again. They were shiny as crystal, and red as blood.

Maybe it was time to stop talking and do something instead.

So, gulping, Nova reached for him, and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight and being corresponded. After a couple of seconds, Nova’s arms started to get a little tired, and the pain came back to her, but she didn’t let go. On the contrary, she just changed the position of her arms, putting her arms beneath his’ , and resting her chin on his shoulder.

For his part, Adrian kissed one side of her head, and Nova felt his breathing between her hair. Then, she felt his fingers, tenderly caressing her scalp.

His body became tense, and his heart started beating fast, for Nova could feel it in her own chest, and in her entire body.

As Adrian shivered, Nova made sure he knew she understood, and rubbed the tip of her nose against the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m here.” She reminded him.

“I know.” He said, in a broken voice. That, for some reason, made Nova feel some sort of relief, and she hoped Adrian knew how much she meant it.

Because she did. A whole lot, in fact.

“...I know it wasn’t your fault...” He said, once they had separated, and he had wiped the tears from his eyes.

Nova held his hand, and her bracelet shone under the soft lights.

“...I know it wasn’t her fault either.” Chills ran down Nova’s spine. “It’s not her fault she died...and sometimes I wonder if she knows that. That it wasn’t her fault. That I know she wanted to stay. That I know she loved me. That I know I miss her and that I…”

Adrian cut himself off.

“That I’m sorry.”

Nova resisted the urge to ask him how therapy was going, because she knew having intrusive thoughts didn’t necessarily mean therapy wasn’t going well. Still, she held his hand tighter, and gulped.

“I’ve heard many things about your mom.” She said, smiling sideways. “And I didn’t get to personally meet her, but I trust she loved you very much. Raising a child...while trying to take down a government...that is badass, Adrian.”

She gulped.

“... And if she was willing to do that for you...then I’m sure she knows.”

Adrian shivered again, visibly, and as tears started rolling down his face again, Nova placed her hands on his cheeks, wiping some of them away.

“And I’m sure she knows it wasn’t your fault, too.”

Adrian hiccuped, pressing Nova’s hand against his skin, calm.

“...When do you learn to see in the dark, Nova?” He asked in a low voice.

And for some reason, the answer was clear from the first second, as she, staring directly into his eyes, said:

“You don’t.”

Because she knew.

“...What you do learn, it’s to walk by the ones who have an excellent night vision and are willing to help you through, and you also learn to follow the voice of those who aren’t here anymore.”

Nova gulped.

“Your dads, Max, Danna, Oscar, Ruby… and me. We’re all here… maybe she’s also still here, somewhere up there, in the universe.”

By feeling him right there with her, Nova felt that they really were.

That they were.

And that they could.

Adrian smiled sideways, and when they laid next to the other to nap for two days, and Nova made sure they both knew they could use the blanket if they wanted to, she asked:

“Remember when you said that maybe you wanted me to be your nightmare?”

“I remember.” Adrian rested his head on his own arm. His eyes were still shiny for the tears, and they were very brown and very beautiful.

“I don’t want to be.” She said, slowly. “Let’s not be each other’s nightmare, okay?”

“Then what should we be?” He asked, scoffing a little.

Nova thought about it for a while. Then, she kissed him. A small kiss, that felt as if the other were a safe, warm space.

“Light.” She said.

“Let’s walk together through the dark, so we don’t fall.”

And for a while, the world was theirs.

Then, Maggie came to knock on the door, saying Leroy wanted them to take the car and go buy food, knowing Adrian would stay for dinner.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #480

“the doomsday clock was made by mankind”

Do you support PETA? No, because they are WAY too extreme. Have you ever lied about your gender? No. Have you ever had escargot? NOOOOOOOO. You couldn't pay me to try that shit. Have you played Breath of the Wild? No; Zelda games aren't my thing. I've watched Game Grumps play it, though. At what venue was the last concert you attended? Idr, somewhere in Raleigh. Who was playing at the last concert you attended? Alice Cooper. Maybe one day I'll have a new answer, lol. Do you have any anniversaries coming up? No. Would you try grapes on a pizza? Holy fuck, ew. Have you ever tried an oyster? How would you describe the experience? Oysters look fucking disgusting. Never. Has anyone ever specifically painted you a painting? Not a painting, no, but I've had drawings made for me. Would you ever want to try pole dancing? Nah. Have you ever had any sort of paranormal experience? Yes. Have you ever gotten something stuck in your skin? (ie: glass shard, gravel) Yeah, like splinters. And graphite. Do any of your grandparents live a nursing home? They're all deceased, but none did. Do you have a USB drive that is shaped like anything unique? No; mine is just a solid hot pink. What country would you like to visit most? South Africa. Whose birthday is closest to today’s date? (someone you know) Girt's birthday is the 10th! Do you know anyone in another country? I have Australian and European friends, yes. Have you ever wanted to be on a game show? Not seriously. Do you believe taking a picture of someone is taking a piece of their soul? Ha, this question makes me think of the quote from SOMA. Anyway, no. Do you have any friends with the same first name as you? No. How many states have you lived in? One. Pancakes or waffles? Waffles, so I can spread peanut butter on them. :') What is the saddest book you’ve ever read? Johnny Got His Gun. ZERO competition. What political cause are you most passionate about? Probably LGBTQ+ rights. Really just equality in general. Have you ever considered having children? The only time I've ever in my life thought I wanted kids was when I was with Jason. Hell, I wanted two or three. Now I'm just like... nah man no thank you. Have you ever considered acting? No. Who was the last person you slept next to? Sara. Do you think you can be in love and still cheat on your S.O.? Ha, no. What is the most embarrassing thing anyone has on video of you? I dunno. Did you ever get lost as a child? Once at the grocery store. A sweet old lady helped me find Mom. Do you know how to play any card games? The very basic ones, and Magic: The Gathering. What are you currently most looking forward to? Mom to feel better so Girt can come over. What is the best television show you’ve ever watched? Hm... Fullmetal Alchemist has a pretty bangin' story. What color are your parents’ eyes? Brown. Are you more dependent or independent? I've very dependent, honestly. Are there any stuffed animals in the room you’re in? Yeah, loads. I have a shelf full of my meerkat collection. Do you love animals? I adore them. I quite frankly don't like anyone who doesn't, because... how. How many people have you kissed in a car? One or two? Who made you mad last? My mom. She said something that just really hurt my feelings. How long was your last shower? It was longer than usual because standing, taking steps to turn, propping my legs up, etc. was fucking excruciating because my feet, ankles, and calves were so swollen. It's so fucking infuriating; in a previous survey I mentioned "oh it's because my body isn't used to getting up and down so much! it's improvement! :D", but no. The swelling was from sitting too long at the desk. My legs are so used to being propped up from being in bed that it caused edema when I was finally sitting. I went back to my fucking bed now because Mom mentioned that it could get extremely dangerous if the fluid buildup got too severe. And of course now that I'm back in bed, the swelling is receding. I can't fucking win. Have you ever had a really bad haircut? Looking back, I think the haircut I had before this current one was pretty bad, but at least it showed me I'd like short hair on myself. What’s your favorite DIY crafts YouTube channel? I don't watch DIY. What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? At this moment, just give me the magic answer to losing all this fucking weight and getting in shape and being happy. Do you usually forgive when someone hurts your or try to get revenge? I forgive too much. Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? English and most science. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No. Was your first car used or new? I haven't had my own car yet. How often do you watch the news? Never. Do you have a fan in your room? I have two. Have you ever hatched an egg? In elementary school, as a class. It was a chick. :') I think it was in kindergarten? Would you like to go to a fortune teller? No, because I wouldn't support them spouting bullshit and lying to people. Do you chew gum on a daily basis? No. I've actually been craving gum for a long time now... For each person you’ve kissed, describe your feelings in one word: My feelings towards them? Jason: Remorseful. Tyler: Eye roll. Sara: thankful. Girt: love. Do you have “friends” that you actually hate? That's some juvenile shit. No. Would you rather get [another] tattoo or piercing? Gimme both, but if I had to pick, a tattoo. If you’re dating someone, how long has it been? It's been just shy of a month Feels a lot longer. If you’re a girl, have you ever had the urge shave your hair? Not shave my entire head, no. Do you live by a forest? Not anymore. :/ Do your parents drink? My dad is a recovered alcoholic, so he doesn't touch it anymore. Mom only drinks lightly for special occasions. Does downloading music without paying make you feel guilty? Yes, and yet I do it anyway. :x Does your house have air conditioning? Yes. What do you believe in more: Ghosts or demons? Ghosts. I don't believe in demons. Do you think they’re making too big of a deal over Michael Jackson’s death? Old survey is old, but no, not really. He was an absolute pop icon that was deeply loved by millions and millions and inspired the genre deeply. I wasn't even a big fan and yet I felt for those who were. French fries or onion rings? The former. I don't like onion rings. Favorite healthy snack? Um. I suppose apple slices w/ peanut butter, especially lately. Or strawberries. ]If you see a bee in your house... are you going to kill it? Bees honestly scare me, so I'm not touching it. Mom will have to get it, and I know she would kill it. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? Done it before, and it didn't feel weird. If your best friend grabs your hand, what do you automatically do? I'd look at her and ask what's wrong. What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? Nothing. Do you tend to flirt a lot, even when the person isn’t single? No, especially if the person is taken. Can grills be sexy on a guy? Grills are unattractive on everyone. Have you ever flown first class? Ha, yeah right. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick around for years upon years. Some I think I'll never forget.

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 18: Ancient -  Adulting: But Ghostly Chap. 2: The Chronic Age Changer

Screwing up in the Fenton Lab was a pretty normal regular thing, but screwing up in such a way to botch someone’s age and humanness without actually changing said age and humanness was a weird one. The trio mess with the school, ClockWork messes with everyone, and Danny? Well, he is the mess.

Sam and Tucker are effectively ransacking Danny’s closet for clothing. Considering he was the only one that worn clothing in the triple XL size even though he was a medium on a good day. Though Sam has some fish netting to work with, shit was stretchy as Hell. So she cut out the crotch of a pair to make for a decent long sleeve fishnet crop top. Thank the Zone her bra cup size hadn’t changed. She’d also ripped up one of Danny’s older SlipKnot shirts -why did he even have this? He didn’t listen to SlipKnot?- and fashioned a nice skirt out of it with safety pins. The arm sleeves made for nice little pockets. And by nice, she means bigger that what girls' clothing usually came with.

Tucker was pretty well feeling stuck with a pinstriped green sweater and Tripp pants that were way too bloody long. Oh well, the bottoms were already torn to shit. In fact, did Danny own anything that wasn’t in questionable to piss poor condition?

The two turning to Danny, rolling their eyes at him still wearing the sweater sweats combination from yesterday. Him nodding curtly at the mirror, “this will have to do”, before turning to his friends and jabbing a thumb towards the door. Both of them walking out with him to go get breakfast.

Maddie grins at the trio of ‘teens’, “sleep well? No problems with your bodies?”.

Danny grins, “nope”, and honestly? It’s a pure miracle he wasn’t wakened up by some ghost or another. Sam and Tucker both immediately pointing at Danny and nodding. Maddie grinning at them, “good. I’d like to give you guys a very quick check over before you head out though. If that’s alright?”, while setting the pancakes down on the table.

The trio glance at each other and shrug. Looking to the Fenton Matriarch and speaking in unison, “sure”, making her smile more as everyone -mostly Tucker- starts stuffing their faces.

-

The whole getting checked over thing had been smooth sailing and show precisely zero change, which was technically good. More or less anyway. Maddie waving bye to them as they head out the doors. Danny glances between his to friends, “so, the shit you telling your folks? Because I doubt just not going home even resembles a plan”.

Sam rolls her eyes at him, “that’s literally one of your emergency plans”.

“Sam, no one is going to try murdering us over this”, Danny tilts his head, “or at least now that we don’t look like ghosts anymore”. Tucker inspects his hand, “actually I think we do but the spray stuff just cast some illusion shit”.

“Tuck, if that were the case then my hair would feel like fire. It does not feel like fire”. Both his friends grimace slightly but nod in agreement. Though Tucker hums, “I think the illusion includes feeling. Because that would be one mind fuck otherwise”. Sam just groans loudly, effectively communicating that he should shut the fuck up.

Danny rolls his eyes, “anyway, I’m going to run off and see Clocky pretty well as soon as we’re out of sight of FentonWorks. Not like school matters much for me and they can’t be bothered calling my folks any more”.

Tucker points at him, “and we still can’t decide if that’s depressing or not. Though yeah, you go do that”. Sam nodding, “and really? This ‘adult’ thing could easily be used as an excuse why you’re not there and a reasonable one at that”.

Danny blinks, genuinely looking pleasantly surprised, “huh. Who would have thought I ever would have a really good excuse to use?”.

The other two deadpanning, “no one”.

Tucker throwing his hands behind his head, “but who the heck’s going to believe this at first anyway? I’m mean I know I’ve always been good looking but this? Ho boy those poor ladies”. Sam predictably smacks him.

Danny shoves Tucker gently, “honestly man?”, pointing at Sam, “it’s her that’s gonna shock people. Ancients, just the hair alone will shock”. Sam lifting up the end of her hair and muttering, “true. This is going to annoy the heck out of me”, which everyone’s laughs at a little.

Danny glances around before saluting his friends, “whelp, I’m off. Enjoy the Hell of school!”, then switching to an almost comically singsong voice, “🎵Well I’m off to see the wizard🎵“, then promptly falls through a purple portal.

Sam blinks, “I still can’t believe they respond to that”. Tucker snickers, “eh they just like making him break out into song randomly”. Sam just snorts at that as they turn to go the little ways further before entering the school doors to death-Hell.

-

Danny stretches his arms up before dropping them and grinning wide as he spots his mentor, who looks fairly pleased with themselves. “Enjoying the view?”.

“Very much so, Daniel”, ClockWork turns to him and changes to their child form, moving to shit on his shoulder. Danny eyeing them and chuckling, “damn Clockpops, you are tiny. I mean, you usually are in this form but now it’s like, extra tiny”. ClockWork just chuckles faintly, their small smile growing ever so slightly. Which makes Danny smiles himself before gesturing his hands up and down himself, “so....about this....”.

-

Meanwhile. Sam and Tucker walk down the Casperhigh halls getting stared at by every person which was only making the pair of them smirking. None of the teachers looked to be trying to stop them, so obviously Danny’s folks went and called the school. Which was surprisingly responsible coming from them. Neither are surprised when Valerie’s the first to ask what the literal fuck is going on here.

Valerie slams her locker closed as the two come up next to her to open their lockers. She looks them up and down, managing to sigh and scowl at the same time, “okay. What did Danny’s crazy parents do know?”.

Sam points at Tucker and blocks his face off with the locker door, “actually it’s bad luck Tuck’s fault”.

“They invented the stupid spray stuff! And they’re the ones who didn’t make an undo button!”.

Sam outright ignores him. “He knocked over some spray stuff that made us look like adults. The hair’s pissing me off, wanna help me whack it off in the bathroom?”. She didn’t seem to have nerves -ghost nerves but still- in her hair now, so it should be fine.

Tucker sticks his head over, “well I think I look great”, and nods curtly. Sam muttering, “switch places and then we’ll see how you would feel”. Which makes Tucker tilt his head, “I’d be a girl then. Which could be fun”, which of course gets him immediately slapped by both girls.

Valerie grabs Sam’s arm and starts dragging her off to the bathrooms, scowling, “looks like you’re only physically adults”. Making Sam laugh as they get into the bathroom, while Valerie produces a pair of scissors from somewhere. No one bothered questioning how or where she always magically seemed to get sharp pointy things. Sam and Tucker though, are pretty sure her suit just makes them with its nanobots.

Paulina and Star glance over and watch the scene of Valerie yanking out one of the under sink stools and starting to hack at Sam’s hair. Both popular girls grimacing. Paulina eventually sighs, “okay no, machetona (tomboy) honey. You use scissors like peinabombillas (someone who combs light bulbs); are you trying to make her a complete pescada (butterface)?”, and stalks over, Star leaning against the counter.  

Valerie and Sam both turn to roll their eyes at the popular girl, “are you offering to cut my hair? You?”.

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but it’s a dainty pretty huff, “well you can’t have hair longer than mine. Think of how that would make me look? Basura (garbage). And I’m in here so people will simply assume I was involved in this current hair disaster, which would be even worse to be associated with. I want to be a hair fashion hairdresser you know. After all-”, flipping her silky smooth flawless hair, “-clearly I know a thing or two”.

Sam and Valerie exchanges glances, speaking in unison, “figures”, but Valerie does push the stool over to be in front of the mirror. Paulina producing her own scissor from her purse, they’re small nail scissors though.

Paulina looking her over and humming, “pixie cut that’s a little more high fashion? That would piss that annoying mother of yours”, it was no secret, the entire student body hated Pamela Manson, though Sam has no idea how they all still didn’t know her family was stinking rich. Neither did Tucker, Valerie, or Danny. But considering the school still hadn’t figured Danny out, they were probably just supremely oblivious... or stupid.

Star taps her chin gently, “if we had clippers then an undercut would really do it”.

“Her hair is thick enough for it”.

Both popular girls blink at Valerie producing one, Sam snickering, “I’m all for this. Fuck my hair up”.

Paulina sighs but motions for Valerie to come over and starts pointing out where to shave and where -for the love of everything- not to. Star speaking up again while digging in her purse, “well could also put that red moulding paste on the tips of a spikier look”, looking at Sam and Valerie, “we brought it for the boys to look more intense at the game”.

Paulina hums, “pretty sure Dash just wants to mess Fenton’s hair up with it”, pointing at Sam and Valerie, “but you didn’t hear that from me, chica (girl)”.

Valerie tilts her head at Sam, “where is that boy anyway?”. While Sam scowls at Paulina but answers Valerie, “doing shit with his parents to fix this. Also-”, pointing at the bottle of red, “-why not”, smirking, “I wouldn’t recommend going after Danny though. I doubt Dash could even reach Danny’s hair effectively”.

Valerie blinks and laughs, almost fucking up with the clippers, “so the shortest boy in the school is now the tallest? That is hilarious”. Sam just smirks.

The clipper noises wind up attracting curious girls in which just leads to a hair party in the bathroom. None giving a damn about first block. Meanwhile, the teachers are all just very confused and annoyed. They’d heard one or two of the Defect Quartet were involved though and thusly stayed the Hell away. Especially since none of them knew where Daniel was, meaning he might be involved. Mrs. Suspensekee was the most on edge about that considering she had both male halves of the quartet in her biology class and only one was here, his feet up on Daniel’s chair and getting his facial hair ogled by all the boys around; he was clearly enjoying it very much.

Kwan looks overly excited as he speaks, “goddamn that’s so manly! You guys so have to sneak this stuff to school. I want to know adult me too!”, which predictably encourages a round of cheers.

Tucker waves everyone off like he’s calming a group of cheering fangirls, “now now, it only works around Danny and does more than just adultify you”, finger-gunning stupidly, “also ghostifies you but we fixed that, not without getting a face full of ecto-weapons though”. That absolutely makes the entire class cringe, some even experiencing flashbacks to their own unfortunate run-ins with armed Fenton’s.

Jesse waves him off right back, “dude, I’m down to see ghost me too”, which gets more cheering. Nobody questioning why this stuff only works around Danny, he was weird, that was practically expected. Jesse pointing at him, “and does Danny have facial hair too?”, because honestly? no one could imagine that.

Tucker laughs, because again with the fire hair, not that he’s going to mention that. He’s not about to Danny-dude dirty like that, “he totally took after his ‘uncle’ for that. Rocking a spikey goatee”. He’s also pretty sure he saw Danny put his hair back in a low ponytail without even realising he was kinda copying Vlad. Maybe adult Danny looking slightly Vlad-like was a sign the guy’s current trend of not being a villainous psycho constantly was going to be a long term thing. Vlad surprisingly didn’t suck at being a mayor. Guy might get re-elected without overshadowing everyone. He knows Danny’s so going to have to have a talk with him over where all the funds came from to keep up with town repairs. Vlad was an experienced bank robber after all.

Mrs. Suspensekee has to snap for the class to pay attention at this point or nothing’s going to get done.

-

Danny blinks at ClockWork, “you’re joking? Seriously?”, and bends over laughing.

“Indeed I am, they were quite upset”.

Danny laughs some more, “to be fair, Dan getting free and looking human would be pretty upsetting”, sighing, “not that I really appreciate that I look just like him”.

ClockWork doesn’t look away from their screens, “he is you, Daniel. Personalities and choices may differ but genetics and bodies seldom do. You’ll have his suit too, excluding his cape, as an adult ghost as well”, continuing over the boys groan, “it is far better than the green accented monstrosity another timeline featured”.

Danny tilts his head, “oh? That bad?”, and walks over. ClockWork changing the screens to show him and Danny instantly cringes, “okay yeah that’s bad. Why would I do that? What would make me think that looks good? What’s up with the lines all over my neck? Ancients that clashes horribly. And what’s even the point of the wrist blaster? I can shoot ecto-beams already. And the green circle over my crotch? I don’t even want to know. Ew”. ClockWork chuckles lightly and nods in agreement.

ClockWork floats around and fiddles with things some, “how your suit looks isn’t truly up to you I’m afraid. It is much like your skin, a natural part of you that will grow and develop as you do. A human can alter the appearance by tanning or dying their hair, but it never truly changes. Ghosts, however, can not truly alter their base form at all beyond putting things on”.

Danny nods, “like Ember putting clothing over top or Skulker’s suit, right?”.

“Precisely”. ClockWork turns to face him, “now for your current appearance-based predicament, unfortunately your parents are correct, Daniel. This is not something they can correct. Unless of course, you feel like being a full human again”.

Danny immediately blurting out, “Zone no”, honestly? he probably couldn’t handle being a regular human again. Having to actually open doors to go through them? The shame. Having to walk everywhere? How barbaric. ClockWork smirks, “as I thought”.

Danny sighs and slumps down into the purple plush couch, leaning his head back comfortably, “so I’m stuck with this then?”.

ClockWork hums, “think about Dan and I believe you’ll come up with something”. Which makes Danny groan and grumble about never getting straight answers. “Though to answer your friends concerns, no this hardly damages time in anyway”, floating over and wagging their finger in his face, “if it did I would have showed up before your parents saw and that spray would have mysteriously disappeared”. Danny nods and waves his hands around, acknowledging that that was probably pretty accurate and probably should have been obvious to him. ClockWork does something close to a fond sigh and pats his head.

Both turning to the sound of shots, “CLOCKWORK!”. ClockWork turning to Danny, “sounds like it’s time you head back”, holding up a finger, “and I think I might just join you”, promptly changing to their child form and unzipping Danny’s backpack.

Danny screws his face up and starts laughing at ClockWork sticking their small head out of the open top, Danny picking up the backpack, “you know, I don’t think there’s a such thing as bring your ghost to school day, but fuck it, I’m making one”, both of them smirking while Danny puts on his backpack and ClockWork spins their staff to make a portal. The two disappearing through it over the backdrop of screaming Observants.

-

Tucker knocks over his third pan in home ec, tilting his head back and sighing, “being tall is slowly becoming a pain in the ass”.

Ms. Relish sighs, “language, Tucker. Though yes, I would appreciate only having one student that damages practically everything they touch”. Tucker holds up the pan, “but I didn’t dent it?”.

“Which thank you for, but do try to be.. more...”, the teacher trails off as a freaking giant of a man walks in.

Tucker looks around at everyone with a wicked grin splitting across his face, eventually bending over and laughing his ass off at Ms. Relish muttering, “hot damn”.

Danny makes a few facial expressions before settling on a smirk, “why Ms. Relish are you hitting on a student?”, and gives a very overacted charming smile. The teacher chokes, while the rest of the class put together the context clues and scream, “FENTON!”.

Danny bows dramatically, “the one and only”. Then moves to join Tucker, swinging his backpack off his shoulder as he goes. Tucker actually has to sit down on the ground to wheeze when freaking ClockWork pokes their head and arms out, resting their arms on the top of the backpack and throwing a small subtle smirk Tucker’s way.

Practically half the class mutters, “oh yeah that is so Fenton. The fuck is that kid doing”. While Danny waves everyone off over his shoulder, “ignore the little guy, they’re helping sort out some issues in exchange for hiding them from some ghosts annoying them”. The entire class blink at him and shrug after a bit, because come on? it’s Fenton. Lily grumbling, “of course he’d strike a bargain with a ghost”.

Tucker gets up and eyes Danny, “eyeballs?”, while the rest of the class continue to eyeball Danny; and Tucker a little bit but they were at least somewhat used to the guy being tall and sporting dreads. Danny being a brick shit house was a whole different story.

Danny has a ridiculously hard time keeping a straight face as he helps Tucker make the little stir fry dish -like always he was banned from actually touching the food due to multiple ‘food coming to life’ incidences- as everyone starts whispering.

“I can’t believe that’s Fenton, I feel like I’m committing a sin by saying he looks actually good”.

“Do you think literally anyone disagrees? ‘Cause the teach is totally right, damn. Puberty is gonna full body fuck Danny. Hot damn”.

“What the heck caused him to be so.. muscly though?”.

“I honestly wouldn’t even believe this if his dad wasn’t, like, the size of a freaking double-wide door. That man’s bigger than my little buggy car”.

“His dad could also throw your car. And have you seen his mom? Saw them at the swimming pool once and she had a solid pack of abs. Nice rack too”.

“Dude, no. How many times have I told you not to go after people’s moms”.

“Fuck. He could crush my head like a watermelon”.

“I just want to know if he even can use the muscles. Or is it just a looks muscular thing?”.

“Who cares. All I care about is seeing Dash and those other jock jerks cry and go home weeping and begging into their pillows to look like that someday”.

“I’m telling you, Dash is gonna have a beer belly. Totally gonna happen. And what? You gonna climb up to their windows to watch? Break in to collect their tears?”.

“Yes”.

“Doesn't your dad work for a Modeling agency? Should totally sneak a photo and get them to snatch him up early. Age matters you know”.

“Amber... you just want photos”.

“So?”.

“Think I should ask him if he, like, has some secret workout routine he does? ‘Cause no way that all built up in two or so years”.

“Dude, he probably doesn’t even know what he did to get that. You’ve seen that skinny ass twink in gym class, he does not work out. Probably started doing it hardcore after Dash really pissed him off or something”.

“Even if he did freaking steroids he wouldn’t build up that much muscle in two years, you idiot. And the kid makes a point to never change in front of others. Maybe he’s got stuff going on under his baggy ass clothing”.

“Oh fuck, wait, so you think that’s why he wears baggy ass shit? To hide it? But why the Zone would he do that?”.

“Why the Zone did he agree to bring a ghost to school? Why the Zone did he eat a screaming ghost Hot Dog? Why the Zone does he do anything. Don’t question Fenton logic, man”.

“Oh this so has to be his parents fault. Maybe started forcing him to work out to be a hunter. Not like his sisters going to take over their company or whatever”.

“His friends are all pretty fit too though, so must be some kind of group effort”.

“Goth chics always been fit af though. Tucker’s is surprising though. So maybe”.

“Oh whatever, I am so subscribing to whatever the fuck the Fenton family workout is”.

“Its ghost hunting, idiot. Wait, you don’t think-”.

Danny decides to butt in randomly at that, before people start getting ideas, “we have a helmet ghost fighting simulator thing. Makes for an okay workout on low mode”. Tucker pats his shoulder, seeing as the trio knew he never used that thing. No, all this was actual ghost fighting. Danny’s weird-ass biology probably played a part though. Danny was way more muscular than Tucker thinks a person actually can be. Someone would have to dedicate their life to being a muscle builder to achieve something close to this probably.

One of the girls hums, “they should sell that then. ‘Cause clearly it works. Mr. I Could Throw An Entire Brick Wall At Someones Face”.

“That is oddly specific”.

“Could he not?”.

“I didn’t say I was disagreeing”.

Tucker elbows Danny, “Sam got her hair cut by the way. She’s rocking the undercut again”. Danny quirks an eyebrow, “by who??? You cut like you’re drunk and Valerie is more experienced with curly hair I think”.

“Paulina”, Tucker raises and lowers his eyebrows rapidly with a smirk. While Danny raises both of his own eyebrows, “well damn, didn’t see that coming”.

ClockWork gives a cheery, “I did”. Earning chuckles and eyerolls.

ClockWork pipes up again after a while, pointing at the stove, “you're about to burn your food”. Tucker jumping a little, “what? Oh shit!”, and yanks the pan off the stove promptly burning himself and thus shoving it at Danny in a panic, “here! Mr. Cold Touch”. Though due to Tucker’s longer arms he winds up smashing the pan into Danny’s chest and dumping everything on his chest.

Danny stares down at the steaming stir fry covering his chest before dropping his arms to the side -one hand holding the hot pan and thus dropping whatever was actually left in the pan onto the floor- and gives Tucker a deadpan look, “really?”. Tucker bends over laughing immediately, though giving Danny his hand to chill; which Danny takes with an eye roll while mouthing, “you fucker”, down at ClockWork.

Ms. Relish walks over with a sigh, “put the pan in the sink before you burn yourself. And obviously I can’t mark this, but at least it’s not burnt”, that last bit sounds a bit sarcastic. So both boys shrug awkwardly at her; Danny does throw the pan in the sink though. ClockWork just smirks more, which the teacher makes a face at.

No one is surprised when Ms. Relish shoos the boys out, “I've had enough of your destructive tendencies. Out you go”. Though when Danny mumbles, “nice, now I can go change my stir fry covered shirt -fuck you Tuck”, everyone shoots up and over to the door. The teacher sighing and putting her head in her hands as the gaggle of teens poke their heads out the door and shush each other.

Danny and Tucker have their backs to the door but obviously know they’re being watched. Tucker elbowing Danny, whispering, “looks like you’ve got some adoring fans to please”. Danny blinks at him, “I feel like a stripper”, even ClockWork chuckles faintly as Danny hands off his backpack to Tucker.

Literally everyone gapes as Danny pulls off his shirt, rolls his shoulders, balls the shirt up like he’s very used to getting his shirts very messy, and looks over his shoulder to wink at them. Both Danny and Tucker bending over laughing right after while a couple girls fake faint, putting their arm over their foreheads and everything. The noise getting another teacher to stick his head out the door and sputtering in disbelief at Danny. “The Picture Of Dorian Gray! Put on a shirt Mr. Fenton!”.

Danny and Tucker exchange glances. Tucker chuckling, “I like how he doesn’t even need to question who you are”. While ClockWork pulls out a shirt from the backpack and hands it over. Mr. Lancer looking to the tiny ghost, “and for the love of Frankenstein, why do you have a pet ghost?”. The two boys absolutely laugh over that.

-

Valerie chokes in art class after checking her phone, someone having posted a photo of who was apparently Danny and with his clearly messy sweater off halfway. The sweater at least looks like something he owned. Her blurting out, “Danny what the fuck!?!? And how?!?!?”. Mrs. Remi just smiles to herself, Danny was one very interesting student to have. She likes interesting though. Oh yes she does as she watches him rush through the door, “I’m not late!”. Of course he actually was but she currently doesn’t care.

Basically the whole class sputters disbelievingly at the boy but not over his comment.

“WHAT!”.

“Oh Zone that wasn’t a photo edit”.

“Why do you have Thor’s voice? Better yet why do you get to have Thor’s voice?”.

“Holy damn”.

Mrs. Remi stands up, putting her hands on her desk and leaning towards the class, “alright, change of plans. Today we’re doing model studies”, pointing at Danny, “find a pair of shorts, a speedo, or strip”.

Danny blinks at her, “what???”.

She grins meanly, “it’s that or next month we’re having Mrs. Testlaff in here to do it”. The entire class immediately pales.

“Fenton get that sweater off now or so help me”.

“Dear Zone no”.

“For my sanity Fenton, please”.

Valerie stands up loudly, “off or I get the flamethrower. There are some things I don’t want to see”.

Danny just sighs, his life was some serious bullshit. Though Valerie might actually do that. Walking over to Valerie and dropping off his backpack, “you're watching them then, and not going murder happy”.

“What-”, Valerie cuts herself off at ClockWork popping their head out, also sticking out the end of their ghostly tail to wave. Valerie blinks, “what the fuck”. While ClockWork grins, “I’m providing the boy a little advice in exchange for some amusement. This has quite effectively infuriated some annoyances I have the slight misfortune of knowing”.

Valerie looks almost painfully slowly to Danny, “the fuck?”. Danny just smirks, finger-guns and disappears back out the door. Returning seconds later in shorts and just lets Mrs. Remi move him into poses all class.

Danny grumbles as class ends, “this was ridiculous and I feel judged”. Valerie walking over and shoving the backpack at him, “I don’t know why. Your body looks stupid good and that’s honestly freaky”, poking him after he pulls the backpack over his shoulder, “you are like a fucking rock. How, when, why”.

ClockWork pops out of the top of the backpack, “you are quite the rough one, aren’t you, Valerie Gray”. She squints at the ghost before looking to Danny’s face, “okay, and why did you tell It, them, whatever, my name?”.

Danny shrugs, “didn't need too”, glancing at ClockWork, who gives him zero sign to shut the fuck up, so he shrugs again, “they're omniscient”.

Valerie stares at him for a bit, “WHAT”. Making both boy and ghost chuckle and give slightly malicious looking smirks. Which she hits Danny over, “stop being creepy, and fuck, do you have fangs?”. Danny grins toothily over that. Her leaning up and forward, “well damn”. Making him laugh.

Danny readjusts his backpack to bring attention to ClockWork, who helps in that regard by messing up his hair, “and their all-knowingness is helping fix our ageing issues. Being all-knowing and shit, they know the fix which my parents do not”, glaring over his shoulder somewhat fondly, “not that the riddle has been all that helpful”.

Valerie blinks as they head to their last class, “so that’s why they’re with you? You’re bribing a ghost”.

“I already told you that. Less bribe, more equalish exchange of services. As for how this all happened”, gesturing his hand over himself as he skilfully avoids bumping into people, “pretty sure Sam and Tuck already explained”.

She scowls at him, “not that you idiot, the muscle. The height’s obviously your dad, but the rest? The Hell”. Danny honestly doesn’t know how to answer that, “well-”, he thankfully gets saved by Dash; which makes this probably the only time he’s happy to hear someone angrily shouting, “FENTON!”.

Danny very intentionally makes his voice noticeably deep and threatening sounding, “what?!?”, even putting a little fang into it. Even Valerie jerks a little.

Dash skids to a stop and just stares at him. So Danny quirks an eyebrow, sneering, “the fuck do you want, Dash?”. Dash blinks once, twice, and three times, “alright, I’ll bite. How?”, then scowling a little and seemingly regaining some of his lost bravado, “how’d a weak scrawny loser like you get to have this as your adult self or whatever your parents screwed up hairspray thing does”.

ClockWork leans over Danny’s shoulder, holding up a finger, “if I may, Daniel here is simply nice to you and lets you push him around. He’s been stronger than you for a while now”. Danny wants to smack ClockWork.

Dash immediately blurts out, “bullshit”. Danny rolls his eyes and points at Valerie, “Val could surplex you. It’s not that difficult. My dad can throw cars, Dash, and mom can kick a tree in half; this feels like this should have been expected”, rolling his hands, “and you’ve seen the shit Sam can do”.

Dash mutters at the ground, “that girl does scare me”, before looking back to Danny and glaring, “you ain’t no gym freak or anything, Fenton. Just a wimpy weak loser and losers don’t turn out like this. At best they wind up like the mayor, skinny suit-wearing and shit”.

Danny blinks and chuckles, “Dash? Vlad is lowkey ripped. Lean yeah, but he could whoop your ass so fast”.

Valerie gives him a funny look, “how do you know that?”.

Danny rubs his neck, “I may have been responsible for that whole incident where he got recorded on the news live naked”. ClockWork chuckles meanly while Valerie and Dash blurt out, “THAT WAS YOU!?!?”. Danny holds up a finger, “maybe. I’m not confirming or denying shit”.

Dash shakes his head and scowls, attempting to shoulder past Danny, who of course doesn’t move resulting in Dash muttering, “ow”, and very pointedly not rubbing his shoulder.

Valerie and Danny shake their heads but getting going to their class again. Valerie elbowing him as they sit down, “if your folks can’t make something to reverse this then why not something that can just make you guys able to change your physical ages at will or revert time to when you were younger”.

Danny blinks at her, “okay, how much thought did you put into that?”, that was actively creative and super out there. Ironic with ClockWork being here though.

She shrugs, “oh since Sam mentioned all this shit. Speaking of Sam”, she points at the door just as said goth strides through. Danny very pointedly looks her up and down, then whistling as she sits down. The faux hawk plus undercut did actually look good, the red tipping worked well too.

Sam rolls her eyes and shoves his head, then eyeballing ClockWork, “for the love of everything, why? Who are you trying to make suffer?”.

ClockWork looks to her and grins, waving a hand around, “everyone. I am rather Ancient, I get my kicks where I can”. Danny just chuckles.

After a while, Danny’s drumming his fingers on his desk and ignoring Mr. Trent’s constant glances. Thinking of it, Valerie had a decent idea. The time messing thing was probably a no go, somehow he doubts ClockWork would go for something like that. The age changing at will though...

Danny smacks his desk, “that’s it!”, making the entire class jump and snapping his desk in half. Him looking down at the broken desk, “shit sorry”. Mr. Trent just sighs and ClockWork pats his head. The whole class watching as he just shrugs and walks out of the class.

Sam, Valerie, and Tucker exchange looks and shrug. But Sam throws her hands up, Val chokes, and Tucker starts laughing as a little five foot four Danny saunters back in like the proudest thing ever with his clothing basically hanging off him. The rest of the class erupts into various freak-outs and descends into utter chaos. Mr. Trent is left grumbling, “I can’t wait till the lot of them get the Hell out of this entire school, please end my suffering”.

Sam scowling, “how?”. Danny smirks as he sits back down, leaning back, “modern problems, Ancient solutions”, leaning closer to Sam and Tucker, “also alternate timely ass could get up to all the age-related tomfuckery”.

They grimace a little but nod. Tucker throws his arm around Danny’s neck, suddenly noting how weird and funny it was how small he was, “guess we got to avoid your tiny ass now”.

Valerie looks at them and sighs, “do I even want to know?”.

The three exchange glances before smirking and speaking in unison, “no”; while the class continues to lose its collective shit in the background. How were they even supposed to explain that Danny’s evil older full ghost self could age shift meaning Danny just so happened to have that ability too? And that ClockWork, being a being that frequently age-shifted, was the best teacher, even if they basically did jack shit, for the ability? Plus, who would want to ruin the glorious beauty of the chaos going on around them right now with silly factual explanations? Bathe in the chaos. Accept that nothing makes sense. Regret baring witness to weirdo trio living up to their name. Worship Satan. Go nuts.

ClockWork, meanwhile, has slipped off comfortably back to their lair. Utterly unsurprised by the two Observants waiting for them with steam basically boiling off their eyes.

End

[fancifulbutsensiblething]

Adventures in Auditory Agony

So I recently made a playlist of absolutely horrible music to drive around to, and the image of Ronan and Blue terrorizing the others with it popped into my head and refused to leave until I wrote this entirely self-indulgent fic to go along with the playlist. It’s v silly and also my first foray into writing TRC content, but...here we are.

Post-TRK/Pre-Epilogue Bronan friendship and gangsey shenanigans, rated T, read on ao3

In the week following Gansey’s graduation, something strange happened.

He hadn’t wanted to leave for a week, not when he was going to be leaving Henrietta so soon anyway. He’d disliked the plan even more when Maura had insisted Blue couldn’t go with him, that if she was going on this road trip with him and Henry, the Fox Way ladies needed to take advantage of every moment they had with her. Gansey couldn’t begrudge Maura time with her daughter, just as he couldn’t blame his own mother for wanting him to spend a little time with the rest of the Gansey clan before he took off again.

So he acquiesced to his mother’s demand-phrased-as-a-polite-request that he would spend a few days at home, on the condition that he could bring Adam along. Adam was even less thrilled than Gansey at the prospect of leaving Henrietta, especially when he knew Ronan wouldn’t come with them, especially especially when he remembered the last time he’d visited D.C. But Gansey desperately wanted company, and with Henry visiting his mother, Adam was the only option left, and he knew it. Besides, at Gansey’s suggestion, they’d added a few extra days for visiting some of the colleges Adam was applying to.

(Neither of them mentioned that the idea of some quality time together—just the two of them—before they each went their separate ways for the foreseeable future was an appealing one. They both thought it.)

The plan was met with mixed feelings by every party involved, but it went off without a hitch, and four family dinners, three college visits, two breakdowns in the Pig, and one emotional late-night heart to heart later, the two boys had returned to Henrietta.

For a while, Gansey noticed nothing amiss.

The first night back was a game night. As usual, Blue somehow managed to beat everyone at Super Smash Bros. despite passing up actually learning how to play in favor of smashing buttons at random. As usual, Adam was alarmingly good at Monopoly. As usual, Ronan got bored before they could finish a round and insisted on playing Cards Against Humanity instead. As usual, Gansey was terrible at every game but nonetheless seemed to have the most fun.

The next day was spent split off in pairs. Gansey spent some time at 300 Fox Way, helping out around the house and good-naturedly tasting Maura’s experimental teas before Blue got fed up with Orla, who was not in the least deterred from her usual flirtatiousness by the official nature of their relationship, and dragged him out of the house to 1) go for a drive, 2) make out in the back seat of the Pig, and 3) explore a local farmer’s market. The rest of the day was spent at Monmouth Manufacturing, though Adam and Ronan were nowhere to be seen. Ronan had been spending more nights at St. Agnes than Monmouth, though, so Gansey wasn’t surprised. All went as usual.

It was on his second full day back that Gansey realized something had happened during his week away.

After a lazy morning, everyone was gathered once more at Monmouth Manufacturing to go for a trip to the Barns. Ronan had volunteered to drive the BMW.

Adam and Gansey followed the other two as they headed out of the apartment, watching amusedly at the scene unfolding. Blue had thrown herself sideways into Ronan, and despite her size, she’d managed to knock him off balance for a moment.

“Hey, asshole, cut it out,” he growled, mussing the colorfully clipped mess of her hair affectionately.

Blue huffed and attempted to shove his hand away. He redoubled his efforts. She ducked away, but he followed, and it quickly escalated into a chaotic tussle.

“‘M gonna shave it all off,” came Blue’s muffled voice from behind Ronan’s arm, “just to spite you.”

Adam laughed. The sound made Gansey grin.

“I’d shave it for you if you asked nicely.”

“No way. It’s a punishment, not a reward.” By this time she had freed herself and was grinning breathlessly back at him as she jogged up to the Beemer.

Then Blue climbed in shotgun.

Ronan was unfazed by this. He hopped into the driver’s seat, and Gansey saw rather than heard him answering her quip.

Gansey, however, was not unfazed. And neither was Adam, if the slight frown and amused quirk of his lips when he turned to meet Gansey’s eyes was any indication.

Gansey could only shrug and follow Adam into the back seat.

Blue rode shotgun in the Camaro more frequently than Ronan or Adam did these days, and on the rare occasion that any of them ended up in Adam’s piece of shit car, she had as fair a shot as either of the others. But if Ronan was driving, it had always been Gansey or, more recently, Adam in the front. It wasn’t that Blue and Ronan weren’t close—they were just about as close now as any of them, and it made Gansey’s heart feel like it was swelling up three times it’s regular size, like the Grinch’s in the old cartoon he and Helen used to watch every December. But Blue had never attempted riding shotgun in the Beemer if either of the others were along, and Ronan had never asked her to, and something about it felt significant when she casually swung herself into the front seat.

It was practiced, Gansey realized as he buckled his seatbelt. It was easy. What had Ronan and Blue gotten up to while he and Adam were away?

He didn’t have to wonder long.

Ronan wordlessly tossed Blue his phone, and she hooked it up to the aux that he’d dreamt to work in the BMW. This, too, was practiced and easy. Blue even knew his phone password.

Just as they screeched out of the parking lot, some kind of music that Gansey could only call aggressive blasted through the speakers. It wasn’t the murder squash song, which he appreciated, but it also wasn’t all that much better. It was all angry electric music and yelling and loud, so loud, but Blue and Ronan were both yelling the words and head-banging, which he had never seen from either of them. It was so strange, he had to glance over at Adam for confirmation that he wasn’t hallucinating. Adam stared back at him wide-eyed.

For a while they only watched in silence, and Gansey almost felt as though he were intruding on some kind of private ritual until Blue turned and began to teasingly sing some of the lyrics of the next song—a horrible, upbeat electronic sounding one—at him. From the few lyrics he could understand, it was about carrying out a relationship over the phone. It was more than a little pointed, and he found himself blushing at some of the more explicit lyrics.

Some of his discomfort evaporated when she laughed delightedly at him and returned to dancing in her seat, replaced by fascination.

Finally, Adam broke in, yelling to be heard over the music, “Can someone please explain what is going on?”

Ronan met his eyes in the rearview mirror and shouted back, “We’re going to the Barns, Parrish. Where have you been?”

“Or do you just mean like, the state of the world today?” Blue asked, turning to face him. “Because you will not believe what’s going on with climate change.”

“I mean the state of my good ear, which is on the verge of becoming my other bad ear. The hell are we listening to?”

Blue lowered the volume just enough that they could speak without having to shout, warding off Ronan’s dirty look with one of her own. “Our playlist. I wanted to name it “emo to the excreamo,” but Ronan kept insisting on names that were objectively terrible and we couldn’t compromise so now it’s a sad nameless little playlist.”

“For the record, ‘songs to commit crimes to’ is the perfect name.”

“It doesn’t make sense! I can’t commit ecoterrorism while blasting Britney Spears.”

“Not with that attitude you can’t. You probably shouldn’t even fucking bother with the ecoterrorism if you aren’t gonna blast Britney Spears while you do it.”

Gansey’s head was spinning. “There’s Britney Spears on this playlist?”

“Obviously,” Blue shot back over her shoulder. It did not seem obvious to Gansey given that the current song was some kind of angry electric rock and that the playlist had been made by Ronan Lynch and Blue Sargent, but then again, nothing else about their current situation had seemed obvious to him ten minutes ago, either.

“I can’t blast anything as bop-worthy as Britney Spears, or I’ll get caught and then I won’t be able to commit more ecoterrorism.” This Blue directed at Ronan. “You must be a terrible criminal.”

“Fine. ‘Songs to get murdered to’ works just as well.”

Blue punched him in the arm. “That’s insensitive! Gansey’s been murdered!”

Ronan barked out a surprised laugh at that. “Yeah, by you and your kiss of death, Maggot.”

“For the record,” Gansey interjected, “Jane’s kiss of death was vastly preferable to the thousands of hornet stings.”

“What a compliment.” Adam raised an eyebrow and looked from Gansey to Blue.

Ronan snickered. “Congrats, Sargent. Kissing you is slightly better than getting stung to death.”

Blue’s reply was interrupted by the sound of “it’s Britney, bitch,” from the stereo, which sent her scrambling to set the volume to its previous ear-bleeding level.

They carried on like this for a while, Ronan pushing 20 over the speed limit and Blue scream-singing lyrics to songs that almost all had to do with sex, cars, or both. Gansey thought the one about a dreamer in a Beemer seemed a little on the nose, and sentiment Adam voiced moments later.

“I can’t help it if I’m someone’s muse,” came the reply. Blue snorted loudly, and Ronan reached over and pinched her on the exposed skin between the top of her knee socks and her ripped shorts. She slapped his hand and squirmed away.

At one point, Blue sang (if you could call it that, when it was really closer to talking or shouting but set to music) the intro to a song that began, “Hey you lil piss baby,” leaning across the center console to get in Ronan’s face, without missing a single word. In fact, Gansey realized, she knew at least some (if not most) of the words to all of these songs, and he wondered just how many times they’d listened to them together.

The fact that they had coordinated dance moves and established which of them sang specific parts when there were back and forth elements solidified for him that the answer was…many, many times.

This coordination was amusing for the most part. An amused smirk played across Adam’s lips as he watched their stupid dances, and Gansey was just ruminating on how happy and carefree both of them seemed, open in a way he rarely saw from either of them, when their performance jolted him out of his reverie.

Blue was moaning. Loudly.

It was part of the song, of course, the singer’s desire to — like rabbits, with a moan in place of an expletive, blaring over and over through the speakers. Ronan was singing along with the rest of the lyrics. Blue contributed the…interjectory sounds, and apparently took this role very seriously.

When her eyes, glinting mischievously, met his in the rearview mirror, he realized she was doing this on purpose. To mess with him. His mouth finally caught up to his brain, and he spluttered a scandalized, “Jane!”

She threw her head back and cackled gleefully. Ronan fist-bumped her. Gansey’s face felt hot.

“I think you’ve become a bad influence, Lynch,” Adam shouted, but he was failing to suppress his smile.

“If anything,” Ronan shot back, “Sargent’s been a bad influence on me. She’s the one that found most of these songs.”

Gansey wondered at that. He wondered all through the suggestive and outright explicit of the next song as well. He wondered at Blue’s ability to sing along without so much as a blush, all while he tried very hard not to think on any of the images his mind conjured up in response.

But of course, she was dauntless and outspoken in everything she did. He smiled at the mental image of her playing these songs for Ronan, ranting all the while about how women in media are sexualized for male gratification but expected to keep themselves modest and pure, the double-edged sword that is the masculine perception of female sexuality, and raging against the vilification of the women who wrote songs expressing that sexuality while men could objectify women in their song’s as much as they pleased. Gansey wished he could’ve been there for Ronan’s response.

None of that made the upbeat, electronic excuse for music any more aurally appealing, unfortunately.

One song ended with sudden bursts of horrid, metallic clashing sounds at a volume so painful that he, Adam, and even Blue covered their ears. She reached to lower the volume, but Ronan slapped her hand away.

“Come on, Ronan,” Gansey yelled, “this isn’t even music! It’s just…screeching!”

Ronan threw a wolfish grin at him over his shoulder. “I know. It sounds just like the Pig when she breaks down. Does it turn you on, Dick?”

Gansey let out a deep sigh, but before he could defend himself, the song had changed and Blue had let out a little excited yelp.

“I just remembered!” she gasped, grabbing for Ronan’s phone. “Henry gave me a song to play for you. You’re gonna love it.”

Ronan sneered. “I don’t trust Cheng’s taste in music.”

Blue only waved her hand dismissively and fiddled with his phone until a new song, not dissimilar in style to the rest, was playing. A few verses in, Adam began laughing, a full, joyous laugh rarely heard and positively contagious.

“It’s perfect for you, Ro,” he gasped out.

Ronan had to concede that a song about only answering the phone for your boyfriend’s personalized ringtone was rather fitting, even if Henry was the one to recommend it. He didn’t fight Blue when she added it to the playlist, and his threats following her announcement that she was making the song Adam’s ringtone were halfhearted at best.

Looking from Blue and Ronan’s bickering to Adam’s gasping laughter, Gansey tried to take in and file away every detail. He wanted to be able to look back on this moment when they were spread out across the country, to remind himself that the separation was only temporary. His chest felt like it was going to burst.

By the time they got to the Barns, it was his eardrums that felt like they were going to burst.

“Next time,” he groaned, stepping out of the car and into the Virginia summer heat, “I’m bringing ear plugs.”

[axelxmartinez]

(Hi I love to plot, hit me up and let’s chat!)

Introduction @redridgeimp​

FULL NAME:  Axel Jose Diego Martinez

NICKNAMES(S):  Axe, Ax, Diablo

AGE:  33

DATE OF BIRTH:  October 30th, 1986

PLACE OF BIRTH:  Red Ridge, Nevada

CURRENT LOCATION:  Red Ridge, Nevada.

ETHNICITY:  Latino. Mexican primarily and his mother was partially Caucasian (European descent), as well as Mexican and Dominican.

GENDER:  Cis male.

PRONOUNS:  He/him/his.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  Bisexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:  quoiromantic

RELIGION:  Atheist.

OCCUPATION:  Owner of Roberto's and Bone breaker for Valencia.

EDUCATION LEVEL:  he dropped out of high school in the beginning of 11th grade. 

EXTRACURRICULAR:  Boxing, lifting weights, playing video games, occasionally reading

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:  Owns his parents house, a medium sized single family home with 4 bedrooms, an unfinished basement, nothing to brag about on the south side of redridge

SPEAKING VOICE AND ACCENT:  Deep, smooth voice with a hint of a Spanish accent, especially when he's angry. Normally keeps a steady tone, unless he’s really upset about something.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: Manny Montana 

HAIR COLOR AND STYLE:  black, shaved short

COMPLEXION:  Brown on the lighter side with neutral undertones

EYE COLOR:  Brown.

EYESIGHT: 20/30 the last time he checked, he probably could use corrective lenses for driving or reading something but he doesn’t bother with it.

HEIGHT:  6’1” or 185cm

WEIGHT:  169lbs or 77kg

BODY AND BUILD:  Muscular, lean, well-defined muscles. 

TATTOOS: tons, he gets them at random and the only theme to them is that they are black and white. The obvious ones most people see are the skull on his throat and the ones on his fingers and hands. (See his pinterest linked at the bottom for more ideas in this area)

PIERCINGS: none, he fights too much to have piercings.

CLOTHING STYLE:  jeans, hoodies, t-shirts, flannels, button down shirts, primarily black for everything. 

DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS:  tattoos all over his body, small linear scar on his eyebrow where no hair grows, various scars all over his body - some covered with tattoos and some not. Also wears necklaces and rings, has a few random bracelets made by his nieces and nephews.

HEALTH.

MENTAL DISORDER(S):  ADD is all he’s been diagnosed with, though he likely has an anxiety disorder as well. 

PHYSICAL DISORDER(S):  none

ALLERGIES:  the pollen gets to him in the spring but he just ignores it

SLEEPING HABITS:  insomniac, he sleeps in small shifts between work and whatever he’s doing during the day. 

EATING HABITS:  Axel has a high metabolism so he eats a lot and often, he tends to pick things up while he’s moving around town and keeps protein bars and snacks in his car for in between meals

SOCIABILITY: extroverted introvert, he tends to be around people but doesn’t go out of his way to strike up conversation unless he feels it necessary, knows the person already, or is spoken to first. 

BODY TEMPERATURE:  neutral.

ADDICTIONS:  Nicotine, Caffeine, some would argue he drinks a little too much but he doesn’t think so.

DRUG USE:  Depends on the drug. He smokes marijuana frequently, but anything else is occasionally and he refuses to touch needles or anything made purely from chemicals (i.e. Meth). 

ALCOHOL USE:  Frequently, usually has a drink or two everyday. Sometimes more, sometimes less. He prefers brandy and tequila but also enjoys beer and will always accept a free drink regardless of what it is.

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS:  Hardworking, Efficient, Honest, Strong, Confident, Curious

NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Callous, Insensitive, Secretive, Possessive, Withdrawn, Stubborn

LIKES:  Fighting, good food, drinking, video games, smoking, sex, most things physical, some reading, fire

DISLIKES:  Schools, authority (mainly police), drama, airplanes, inactivity

FEARS: His only fear that he could ever pinpoint was his father.

HABITS: Plays with his fingers, touches his face, staring without talking, smoking, rain

ASTROLOGY:  Scorpio Sun, Sagittarius Rising, Libra Moon

PERSONALITY TYPE:  INTJ

MORAL ALIGNMENT:  Chaotic Neutral

HOGWARTS HOUSE:  Slytherin.

ELEMENT:  Fire

WEATHER: Overcast or Sunny

COLOR:  Black

MUSIC:  Rock, Metal, 90’s hip hop

MOVIE:  Documentaries or Action movies

SPORT:  Baseball and Soccer

BEVERAGE:  Brandy or Tequila

FOOD:  Waffles

ANIMAL: Snake

SEASON:  Summer

FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: Antonia Martinez (Rodriguez)  

FATHER:  Roberto Martinez, deceased

SIGNIFICANT OTHER:  none

SIBLING(S):  5 younger siblings, names and ages vague for future wc

CHILDREN:  TBD

PET(S): Ball Python named Slinky

PROMPT.

“ROUTINE”: violence tw, death tw

Ever since he was a teenager, Axel has worked at Roberto’s. At his father’s insistence to teach him some responsibility, as the owner, it was common for him to hire his children and other relatives because he didn’t trust anyone. When Roberto, his father, went to prison and was simultaneously killed while there, his business was given to his eldest son. Axel wasn’t very torn up about losing his father, it made his life significantly easier and allowed him to take over the role as head of the Martinez family. Something he’d been well prepared for and while he wasn’t the nicest guy, he wasn’t the psychopath Roberto was. At least, he didn’t think he was. 

With his father gone, his days started with the sun (if he even got to bed the night before). He opened the convenient store, put the money in the till for the starting shift and made sure everything was turned on and stocked from the night before. Once the first shift comes in, he usually heads to the back to double check that everything is locked up and set up for the next shift. After that is usually when he gets word of anything Valencia needs him to do that day. Even though he’s not a soldier anymore, he likes to keep busy so he picks up slack where he can. If not, he starts checking in on his younger siblings and making sure they are doing what they’re supposed to be doing and staying out of trouble. If he doesn’t have anything pressing to get done, he heads to the gym to do his usual workout and possibly some sparring to keep his endurance at peak along with his fighting technique. Afterwards, he hits up Ridge Roasters if he’s going to the North side of town and gets his coffee with a random pastry to go. Otherwise, he heads to Blue Hill Diner for a proper breakfast and chats with the staff there or scrolls through his phone. He heads back to the convenient store if they need him, otherwise he heads home for a nap or just to relax. Most days he can trust his shift supervisors or the manager to finish up the rest of the day at Roberto’s. Only on occasion does he have to cover a shift or go in to change the cash register for a shift. 

By five or six in the evening, Axel crosses the threshold of St. Peters and takes a spot at the bar. If he feels like dinner, he gets something to eat. Otherwise he has a few drinks to pass the time and watches the environment. If he’s lucky, he catches something that isn’t supposed to be happening in Redridge without approval and brings it to a higher up. Otherwise, he wastes some time before Rogue’s opens and he can go watch the fights for the night. By the time it’s his turn to get in the ring, he’s usually itching to start fighting. He’s not one to get excited about much, but once he gets sight of his ‘opponent’ a wide shark-like smile will spread across his face. Axel loves the work he gets to do with Valencia and if he could do more he would. Fighting and getting rid of people was something he specialized in, he was damn good at it, too. If he was lucky, he brought someone home with him at the end of the night. If not, he has another drink and heads back to his house to watch something on the television or, if he’s even luckier, gets a few hours of sleep before he has to wake up and repeat it all the next day. 

“REMINISCENCE”:  violence tw, alcohol tw, blood tw, death tw

“Not everyone gets to just blurt out how the feel about whoever or whatever on a fuckin’ whim, dude.” Axel spoke into his glass, the third brandy making his voice hoarse. Stuck in the reverie that his best friend had pulled from him. That afternoon they’d gotten the news that his father was found dead in the showers that morning. He was out celebrating. That man had never done anything for anyone, nothing good at least and definitely not any of his kids. Axel looked at the brown liquid in his glass and swirled it around. “Remember back in high school, that kid Jake who used to hang around sometimes?” He asked, eyes still on the glass. “We used to mess around or whatever. I was young and stupid.” He shook his head, knowing at twenty-five he wasn’t exactly old but he was a lot older than he was then. “Anyways, it had been a few months and I started talkin’ a big game like I was the boss of my house. My papi didn’t give a shit what I did or who I was with and all that. We stopped at Roberto’s after school to get some snacks or whatever. You know, same shit different day.” Axel paused and let out a slow sigh. The alcohol was getting to his head and loosening his tongue to reveal shit he’d never talked about with anyone. Most people knew his father was a prick that was quick to correct his children with his hands rather than his words, but Axel didn’t ever make it seem like it bothered him. He sure as hell didn’t let on that he harbored a great fear of the man. “We were at the counter paying, right in front of my dad and Jake tried to lean in for a kiss or somethin’ to say thank you or some shit. I just freaked out, I didn’t know what to do because that shit wasn’t goin’ to fly with Roberto Martinez. Not one of his kids. So, I pushed him away and beat his ass bloody right there for all the world to see.” He didn’t want his dad to do it and if he thought for a second that Axel was into guys he would probably shoot him on the spot. Definitely would have gotten rid of him in one way or the other. Even if he still liked girls, too. “My brother had to pull me off of him. I was so fuckin’ scared man, I just kept hittin’ him. He had to go to the hospital and his parents didn’t even press charges, they straight pulled him out of school. I never even saw him again.” Axel finished off his glass and exhaled the burn it left in his throat and chest. “Out of all the people I’ve beat in my lifetime, all the shit I’ve done, man. That’s the only one I regret. But you know the sad part?” He let out a bitter laugh. “If I could go back and do it over, I’d still beat his ass. What the fuck does that say about me?” Axel shut up after that, didn’t even really pay attention to what his friend had to say about any of it. He drowned himself in a bottle and had no idea how he got home at the end of the night. 

BACKGROUND. ( abuse tw, death tw, violence tw)

Born and raised in Redridge, oldest of six children. Some of his siblings still live in Redridge, others have left and spread around the country. He has a large extended family. They live all over the country, Mexico, and South America.

His father was a very strict man and ran his household with an iron fist. He believed his children should be seen and not heard. If one of them were to step out of line, show defiance, or generally make him angry in any way, he normally responded by correcting them physically instead of with words. He owned Roberto’s, which he started before Axel was born. Roberto was also a member of Valencia working up from street rat to lieutenant. He was arrested when Axel was twenty and died in prison when he was twenty-five.

Antonia, his mother, was a reserved woman. She was hard-working and loved her children. However, she listened to her husband and he was the head of the household. When Roberto went to prison, Axel took over the role of head of the household. His mother fell ill in his late twenties and currently lives in an assisted living facility in Redridge. Axel visits her regularly.

As for his siblings, he keeps up with all of them. One attends the community college and he is adamant that they keep up with their grades and continue their education. He keeps in almost daily touch with each and every one of them and adores his nieces and nephews. Whenever he can visit, he makes a point to but hates to fly so it is usually only once or twice a year at most for those who live outside of Nevada. 

School wasn’t Axel’s strong suit. He could never focus and everything just made him feel like he was stupid when he knew he wasn’t stupid. He just wasn’t book smart. So he dropped out right before eleventh grade and worked at Roberto’s. As soon as he was able to, he joined Valencia as a street rat and moved up the ranks to Bone-breaker once he had proven himself. However, he enjoys doing soldier work still so he will pick up any spare jobs if they are available.

As far as romance goes, Axel has never been with anyone long. He enjoys both women and men and their company, but he has a hard time letting anyone past his walls. The few times he has tried, he fucked it up in one way or another. So, he stays single and just holds casual relationships. 

He loves to fight and he is good at making people disappear, getting jobs done efficiently, and intimidation. Axel is very loyal to Valencia.

Currently, he is always on the move. He doesn’t like to be idle for long. So he is either doing work for Valencia or Roberto’s, moving around town, drinking at a bar, eating somewhere, fighting at Rogue’s, at the gym, watching fights, or sleeping in between any of those activities. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

Friends With Benefits/One-night Stands (unlimited): He likes physical activity and touch, he tries to pick people up often and especially after a fight. This could have been happening for a long time or just a night or be brand new. 

Best Friend (0/1): This person knows him better than anyone. They just get him and is likely the only person he’s ever opened up to. 

Close Friends (0/6): These people know him better than most, but he probably has only opened up about one or two things to them. He trusts these people and likes to be around them.

Employees: Anyone who wants to work at Roberto’s

Budding Romance (0/1): could be a fwb that progresses, someone who’s always been around but neither of them made the move to advance it past anything.

Enemies: Self explanatory, but they always butt heads in one way or another. Possibly have fought in the past, but definitely never have anything nice to say about one another.

Past relationships (0/4): People who tried to break through his walls and didn’t get through. Or they just didn’t work out for any multitude of reasons.

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kitmeowza/c-axel-martinez/

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part six) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±1900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part six: Y/N is getting lost in the feelings that she’s developing for Dean, and it doesn’t take long before Jo takes notice. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Okay, maybe the tequila last night wasn’t such a good idea. Neither was that margarita the previous night, or the drinking game the night before that one. Or was it the other way around? Y/N cannot seem to recall, but today is Friday, so at least tomorrow she can sleep her way through the headache. Never ever did she drink as much as she did this week. Normally that would bother her, especially considering she’s not here on Spring break. But when the drinks are offered in a time when she needs a little something to stop thinking about that damned Dean Winchester, she couldn't care less about the increase of alcohol consumption.

     She found the balance quite quickly, too. Intoxicated enough to let go of the complexity that comes with growing fondness of the head wrangler, but sober enough to stop herself from doing anything stupid. The consequence is, however, that on this morning ride, her brain feels like it’s trying to expand beyond the size of her head. Thank God her stomach isn't acting up, because Joplin is trotting under her nervously. Seems like Y/N is having trouble finding the ‘walk’ button this early. The hot-blooded mare fails to respond when her rider asks her to slow down by saying ‘ho’ with a calm voice, but when Y/N breathes out, relaxes her legs, and shifts deeper in the saddle only by a fraction of an inch, the black horse transitions to walk.

     “Good girl,” Y/N compliments her.

     Three days without riding were more than she could handle. Meadow needed some time to recover from the long journey and to get used to her new home, but Y/N needed to restrain herself from climbing on the mare’s back anyway. She imagined this was a glimpse of what it would be like to kick an addiction cold turkey, going into withdrawal from the lack of her drug. As if not being able to train her own horse wasn't enough, it took another extra day before Y/N got onto any horse at all. It wasn't until yesterday morning that the supervisor decided that she deserved a shot at proving herself as a wrangler. She had to earn that by mucking, shit scooping, cleaning tack, and turning horses in and out. Which she gets, of course. Dean and Bobby wanted to see what she is made of before they let her ride one of their animals. But boy, was she frustrated. She even got to the point that Garth almost caught her muttering a promise to herself that if she had to clean up some horse’s massive dump one more time without a reward, she would be out of here.

     Yesterday she finally got to accompany a few guests on a trail. It was amazing to feel the horse move under the saddle again, the experience of the communication that she established within a second, and how the perfect fit on his back felt like home. Apparently, she did well, because on this morning ride, she is allowed to come along too.

     Content, she looks ahead at the large group of inexperienced riders, who find their way down the hill with some difficulty. The respect Y/N holds for the trail horses has grown, because their patience and ability to keep their clumsy passengers in the saddle hasn't ceased to amaze her. Bruce, a draft horse mix, has halted several times already, waiting motionless until his overweight German load has pulled himself back into the saddle after slowly tipping to one side. It's quite entertaining to watch.

     As she smiles at what’s playing out in front of her, the sound of hoofsteps close by on the rocky surface reaches her hearing. When she glances over her shoulder, a beautiful buckskin is just about to transition to an easy walk after catching up. Her eyes glide up until they meet his rider.

     “So, how are you this morning?” Dean wonders, a playful smile on his face.      It takes a short moment for her to answer, taken aback by her body’s response to the sight of the wrangler. A whirlwind starts to twist in her stomach, yet the headache suddenly doesn't seem as tormenting as it was a minute ago.      “I'm okay,” she claims.      He grins. “Sure about that? You had quite a few drinks last night.”      “I can handle myself,” she returns defensively, narrowing her eyes at him a little.      “Oh, I’m sure you can.”

     He chuckles, the warm and low sound rumbling deep in his throat triggering Y/N to peek at him from the corner of her eye. Was that a nervousness she detected? Did she just make him uneasy? He looks down, his lips drawn in a small smile. The sun from the east outlines the sharp lines of his jaw, edged by a scruff; apparently he didn't take the time to shave this morning. Boy, is she glad he didn’t.

     “Okay, I'll admit,” she says, trying to take away his insecurities. “My stomach might be a little… unsettled.”      Y/N isn’t lying, although alcohol has nothing to do with the butterflies that came to life inside of her. He doesn't know that, thankfully, yet he keeps a hold of his intern’s gaze for a little while longer, reading her. As if Dean’s horse wants to help love a little, the Quarter sways closer to her horse Joplin, the two of them now riding stirrup to stirrup. His knee slightly brushes against hers every other step and despite that it's barely a touch, she’s highly aware of the physical contact.

     “Don't throw up on your horse if you want to leave a good impression with me. Believe me, it ain't pretty,” Dean half jokes, half flirts.      She throws her head back in a laugh. “Don't worry, I won't. But please don't tell me you have seen that happen.”      “More than once, I'm afraid,” he remembers, turning in his saddle to face his younger cousin. “Ey, Jo?”      The blonde cowgirl, who is about thirty yards behind them, throws him a confused look, since she hasn't picked up a word of their conversation. Puzzled, she watches, inducing the riders further up to laughter.      “No way!” Y/N cries out.      “I ain’t kiddin’,” Dean sniggers. “I'll save that story for another time. Y’know, when your stomach isn't ‘unsettled’ by the same tequila that started Jo’s tale.”

     He spurs his horse, who canters forward to meet the group of guests up ahead. She observes Dean as the morning sun portrays the cowboy and his horse in a romantic light. Out here, away from the city, the Arizona landscape would have anyone believe that they traveled back to the time, when the Wild West was still the real deal. Cacti surround them, peculiar mountain peaks shaped by ten thousand years of wind erosion obstruct the far edge of the world. And in this perfect portrait rides a handsome cowboy, one with his horse, clouds of dust in their wake. An amused smile allows a glimpse of Y/N’s true feelings to shine through. There it is again, that tingly sensation in her belly. Sure, Dean. Blame it on the tequila, she thinks to yourself.

     “What the hell was that?”      Now that Dean left his spot next to her, Jo has caught up, gently pulling the reins as she sits back to bring her horse’s pace down.      Feeling caught, Y/N looks at her, brought off balance by the spite in the cowgirl’s voice. “What do you mean?”      “Oh, c’mon, Yankee. I wasn’t born yesterday, and neither were you. You just completed your master in business, don't act like you're stupid,” Jo counters. “You and Dean, what’s going on?”      The cowgirl eyes her in shock, her jaw dropping unpleasantly surprised. Was it really that obvious? How is she going to talk herself out of this one?      “I - I don't--” she stutters, blood rushing to her face. “There - there's nothing--”      She’s not sure if it’s her shameful expression or the fact that she lost her tongue, but Jo knows enough. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply.      “Y/N…” her friend starts, a mixture of disappointment and pity present in her voice. “Please don't go down that road. He will hurt you so bad you're gonna wish you never gone on that flight that got you here.”      Now the intern sighs too. Denying will not do her any good. Jo is smart enough to see right through it.      “Listen, I really like having you around. You're good company, you're a hard worker, you're great with the horses, and I don’t wanna lose my sis,” the ranch owner’s daughter says genuinely. “I would hate to see you leave because of my heartbreaker of a cousin. I've seen this play out so many times already, don't walk into that trap.”      “I think that ship has sailed,” her friend admits out loud.

     The words startle the woman who speaks them just as much as they stun Jo; she didn't intend to share that with her new friend already. But now that the comment is hovering between them without a way to take it back, a part of her is glad it’s out there. Dean has been about the only thing on her mind since she first saw him. Not being able to talk about that with anyone was driving her mad. She needs to vent to someone, someone she can trust.

     Shocked by the bombshell that Y/N just dropped, Jo turns her head to orient her big eyes towards the man in question. That son of a bitch..      “Well, that didn't take long…” The cowgirl shakes her head, then looks her in the eye after her confession. It's clear she feels sorry for her friend. “I'll talk to him.”      “No! Jo, please don't. Look, I didn't forget about your warning and I’m surely not going to act on these... feelings,” she guarantees, barely able to get out the word. “But I can't shut this off. It caught me by surprise as well.”      “He tends to have that effect on women,” Jo mutters.      “I won't do anything stupid,” Y/N assures her.      Jo glances at the intern from under her hat. “Promise?”

     She looks backs at her new friend. Honestly, she isn’t sure if she’s strong enough to resist Dean, but this agreement might help her stick to the plan. The plan to complete her internship successfully and return home to start her own ranch. It's all she ever wanted, it has been her life goal for as long as she can remember. Is she really going to let some cowboy stop her from fulfilling that dream? A very handsome, sweet, and utterly irresistible cowboy, but nonetheless. She will reach for the stars and she will have her wish, nothing will stand in her way, not even him. And so a reassuring smile forms on her lips.

     “I promise.”

Well, the cat’s out of the bag. Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part seven here

[maltedroses]

The Doctor is Here

This is  a birthday present I  made for my friend that ive decided to crosspost from Ao3

warnings: gore, mutilation, seriously if you don't like blood or any of that stuff look away move on this is your only warning.

He was sick, everybody was sick, and it was foolish of him to think he would be the exception. Hari always believed Kai would never use his quirk on him but he was wrong. The leather cut through his wrist the more he pulled the worse it would get. 

Kai didn't even try to cure him, he simply just shaved his hair. Hari became something Kai could play and experiment on. It hurt him but he couldn't tell at what scale. By now all pain felt the same, his body was unable to tell the difference from a cut to a slap on the face. He just wanted it to end.

Clack

Clack

It was the devil he once called friend. As the door rattled tears began to fall, his body still aching from the last time Overhaul put him back together. That was the thing, his quirk, it didn't matter how many times Hari would break or bleed, Overhaul could simply put him back together as if nothing happened, or he could leave him unfinished. It was all a game to him. "I'm surprised you're up, get that look off your face- Oh you're crying how dull." Overhaul slightly lifted his chin, upon contact Hari shivered. "Hm, what's wrong Hari? I'm not going to hurt you~" that was a lie. 

"You know I don't ask for anything other than for you to be cooperative. I even let you keep your quirk because we're friends." How? Friends don't lock each other in rooms and experiment on them for their sick entertainment in disguise of 'the greater good'. Hari couldn't even use his quirk without his hair growing back a little, so he was basically quirk less. "I'm here for your check up, can't have you dying on me now can we?" Fuck off, or at least mercy kill me. The popsicle stick entered Hari’s mouth, Overhaul put two fingers inside, feeling every corner and tooth. "Good boy. I'm feeling nice today so no surgeries will be performed today, unless you disobey me, got that?" Hari couldn't respond, after the first time Overhaul made sure to get rid of his vocal cords. His screams were horrible and nothing but pure fear and agony from his action. But it gave him great satisfaction knowing he was the last to hear Hari's voice even if it was a scream. Hari lied motionless with a monotone face.

He snorted chuckling a little "Of course you can't answer, but you know what's best for you. Right Hari Kurono?" Overhaul smiled caressing his face. Hari was repulsed, in the past he wished to receive his affection, but now the thought of him touching him made him wish for death.

Overhaul frowned seeing the expression on Hari’s face, "Don't you dare test my patience.." gripping Haris throat, cutting off the air from reaching his lungs.  A short rush of adrenaline kicked in his body giving him enough strength to pull away from Overhaul but ultimately failing

He was done playing games he'd been too nice and now Hari was thinking he could get away with acting up. Overhaul took out a knife "Hari I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this, but you leave me no choice" he held Hari's hand who was desperately trying to get away.

"Don't worry Hari it won't hurt long, this is for your own good. it hurts me more than it hurts you" liar, please somebody get me out this hell, thought Hari as tears continued to fall down his face. "Besides I can always put you back together, my sweet Kurono Hari"

The blade against Hari who was shaking in fear. "Don't make this any more complicated than it has to be, now stop moving or I'll cut more than what's necessary". The incision was painfully slow, that's when Hari realized Overhaul wanted him to suffer, he was sawing not cutting 

He opens his mouth wanting to scream but he couldn’t, he sat there defenseless doing nothing but cry and wish for death. “Hari I know it hurts, oh stop that please don’t cry” he sighs pausing for a quick second “fine I’ll give you a sedative just this once.” Hari didn’t know if this was good or bad. On one hand, he would be numb and not feel anything sparing him pain but that would only mean Overhaul would come up with more sadistic forms of torture. 

"This won't hurt, it's nothing compared to what I could do to you” Hari truly doesn’t feel anything. He lies to himself that it's all a dream, soon he'll wake up and things would be normal again. But it wasn't, this was hell on earth, with overhaul death wasn't an escape, it was a door that would always lead to the same room.

He could still feel the knife sawing through his flesh, Hari found it ironic how he saw this as a form of mercy, what good was it for him to feel nothing if Overhaul was still acting with ill intent? "See? It wasn't that bad. Although I will say you're bleeding an awful lot.” he hummed bringing the blade up to his mouth. Chrono looked back at him in fear of what he was to do next. Overhaul looked at the blade as if to inspect it, admiring the way Hari's blood stained the blade.

"You know I've always wondered what you'd taste like" he tauntingly twirls the knife in his hand "suppose it's never too late to find out" he takes the knife and gives it a long lick around the edges. "You taste quite heavily, why don't we get some more" before Hari could even process what the brunette said Overhaul lunged at Hari's fingers, slicing them off with a clean cut.

Overhaul lowered himself to the stumps staring in awe as the blood gushed out. He grabbed the severed fingers and licked them "have I ever told you that you have nice fingers? Incredibly soft, I almost feel bad for cutting them off, but it's okay I'll fix you up real quick after I'm done with this."

Hari looked back at him disgusted and confused, this was out of the normal routine. Overhaul then stood up, severed fingers still in mouth and twirled. "Oh Kurono I really hope you won't mind but I just want to return the favor~" Overhaul grabbed the blade and slashed his tongue "Now we can both taste each other!" He smashed his lips against Hari's, swirling his tongue inside. “This is kinda gross but it feels so good, you’ve been a good boy so far Hari, maybe I should reward you, hows that sound? You want your voice back, maybe ill let you grow out your hair even if it’s just a little bit” he stopped briefly to caress his face “or perhaps you’ll like to go outside again, see the sun and not be in your room all day?”

Hari’s eyes lightened up with a faint shine of hope /outside?/ would Overhaul really grant him his freedom? Without thinking it much further he nodded.

“Oh so you want to go outside? Well” Overhaul resumed kissing his …’friend’ “that’s too bad because you belong here Hari” 

His heart sank, along with a sharp pain in his abdomen. Blood. 

“You truly are a fool Hari, always a loyal servant. Look at you now, trapped, lead by your own desire to be noticed.” he darky laughed “I’m not even going to bother fixing you up, let this be a lesson for letting your emotions get to you” he chuckled exiting the room and leaving Hari to bleed out.

Hari knew the devil was real, and that devil was Overhaul.

[theoceanthatdrownthemoon-chaldea]

One advantage this site has over Twitter is the words limit for post.

Note: long rant and reminiscing of Nobutoria

It's hilarious how many people feel the need to go out of their way so say Artoria is either strictly straight/heterosexual or doesn't swing that way in regards to Morgan. Adding to that is how they love to push the idea that's she is the happiest when that orange head 'shave away' her mask and treat her as the woman she is. Hell? Examples of compulsive hetetosexual I guess. The need to bring up her sex is strikingly familiar to how Zero Rider berated her for her way of life. Happiness of a woman? Tragedy as she never once experience romance? Do you want to throw that at Jeanne who was burnt at the stake for her country too? Do you want to throw that garbage of an excuse at my national heroine Trung Nhi and her princesses/generals too? They all died for their country fighting against invasion so that sort of saying is nothing but a blatant insult. It's patronizing, misogynistic and ignorant to decide what kind of happiness a woman should pursue.

Fate route (?) shot itself in the foot when it was revealed Iri treated Artoria as a human. Not only that, prior to her ascension to the throne, Kay, Ector and his wife did treat her as a family member. That orange head wasn't the first and as more information came out, the romance in Fate route become increasingly forced and visibly clumsy. There was also Bedivere.

With Garden of Avalon, the notion that what she feels for that orange head is romantic love became even more unbelievable. She doesn't understand love yet claims to possibly be in love with Merlin since he has been with her through all of that. Merlin too doesn't understand love so how could he be reliable in determining who she's in love with? Merlin's ability lies largely in illusion and he doesn't have any authority at Avalon. How is it that he could even ferry that orange head there? It's an illusion, not for Artoria but for Takeuchi. And at the time, Nasu really had no other character to use.

Incoming a crazy MHX who was confirmed in an interview with her VA to be truest Artoria in personality without all the royal duty and baggage. Yet in that state she still wants to save Britain. In a sense, she began practicing self-care by doting on and caring for her alternative versions - Lily + Ecchan. It's really doubtful Nasu + Takeuchi would let the game showed how X cried tears of joy of finally finding a person who understood her if they didn't agree to that sentimentality. Of course, Keikentii's own Nobu came later than Last Episode so they need a premise for these two to meet formally. Maybe Nasu + Takeuchi don't feel strongly about Fate route romance anymore. Meanwhile Keikentii persisted in pushing the two together. It doesn't matter if they're from different time period. It doesn't matter if Artoria for unexplainable reasons is Nobu's Master in Fate/Koha-Ace. It doesn't matter that XX is technically different from X. The writers let the Nobutoria continuously kick the Gudas out of the picture and their mind in favor of each other. Neither X nor Nobu cared about the Gudas in Death Heat. XX didn't consider giving Chaldea a negotiation chance until Nobu showed up. But then it was a dialogue between them with Chaldea as onlookers. XX could have killed the Gudas if not for Nobu's intervention. Maou Nobu didn't bother to go fight Ruler Artoria either. She didn't try to fight XX over Okita J's fake death.

The writers intentionally put in details to make it's possible for these two - Nobu and Artoria - to meet up regardless of how the world, the Throne and timeline work. It's important that they treat each other just as 'Nobu' and 'Artoria' as most obvious in Hawalulu. XX isn't exactly X. But then again, Master Artoria isn't exactly Artoria or X either. Yet Nobu even lied to not fight Artoria and partnered up with X anyway. They're similar enough to be drawn toward one another and perhaps that charm broke through the 4th wall to have the writers in firm grasp.

Nobu likes Artoria since Koha-Ace. As for Artoria, she probably thinks she's already in love with Nobu like in Merlin's case. Nobu claimed she'd stick with her despite getting freaked out by Artoria's obsessiveness toward her goal and she followed through with that. They're both weird. People would remind X she's actually an Assassin, to drop the Sabers hunt, to drop the burden of saving her country since she did her best. Nobu did none of that. She was in a similar position, had similar experience and burdens. Despite presenting herself as laid back, she hasn't given up her ambition and she likes people who won't give up easily - Artoria in this case. With how they are, the Nobutoria duo makes some impossibilities a reality.

Admittedly, I haven't read Last Episode. I know the barest things about it: epilogue for Fate route, Merlin's interference, dead orange head, Takeuchi begged a happy ending for Artoria.

Medb x Skathach is a cute pairing. They are yet to get a chunk of story dedicated to their interaction. They however got a couple-ish CE.

[xladyxfatex]

Chapter Ten

~*5 year time skip*~

It had been five years since Jessica had last seen Alesiter, four years since they last spoke on the phone and three years since she had gotten her last letter. She had kept trying to reach out on several occasions but decided  it was just best if she stopped, seeing as Alesiter hadn't responded to any of her letters. But she did still wear her necklace, it was the one promise to Aleister that she was going to keep no matter what. Now a 13 year old freshman, alongside her brother Jeff whom was 15 and Matt 17, High school was a whole new ball game. Jessica started taking more after Jeff in the way she dressed and was eventually able to convince him to dye her hair like his. Which went more along the lines of.

“ Well Jeff if you don’t do it for me, I’ll just have to do it myself and since I’ve never done this, who knows what it’ll look like or the mess I’ll make.”

Yup that was how she went from beautiful strawberry blonde hair, to its current colors of purple, with pink tips. She dressed like him too, well as close as she could get. Instead of dressing like the other girls, in skirts, and tight clothes, Jessica went for baggier, skater pants, studded belts, tank tops, with a hoodie over the top and combat boots on her feet. When people asked why the hell she looked like she'd just smile and walk passed, she didn’t need to explain herself and she never would. As usual, Jessica excelled in school, top marks every quarter, and to earn some cash, she even tutored others. Her sophomore year she was placed into college prep classes in hopes of giving her harder work, which all but failed. When not studying, tutoring or harassing her brother to re do her hair, Jessica could be found in the ring in the backyard.

Over the years the siblings had made changes and upgrades to the ring, but nowadays Matt and Jeff were actually going to wrestling school part time, and on weekends, when it wasn’t a full moon performing shows. Jessica was envious of her brothers, she knew they’d make it big one day and she wanted to follow in their footsteps. Junior year was different. She still dressed the same and had weird hair in fact that year she had dyed dark blue with teal ends, but the odd part was her body changed. She didn’t get much taller, but her chest grew, and so did her curves. She began getting noticed by the guys in school and since Matt had graduated two years ago, that only left Jeff. Jess wasn’t going to bother him though, he had his group of weirdo friends at school, and she had the like two friends she had. After what happened with Aleister she never really did allow others to get close to her.

That was until Jack came along. He was your typical pretty, jock boy. Same grade as Jessica and one of the students she helped tutor. She wasn’t sure what the hell had gotten into Jack but he expressed interest in dating her. There never were any rules in place in case she was asked out, so she thought it would be okay. She agreed to meet with him on a Saturday, she knew her brothers would be gone from Friday night till early Sunday morning, and dad was hardly ever around. So if she was going to go on a “date” Saturday would be the perfect day. Forgetting that of course Sunday was the full moon which meant her brothers would actually be home Saturday night.  The rest of the week past and Jessica did her normal routine. Friday was her tutor session with Jack and they exchanged phone numbers at the end of it. Getting back home Matt and Jeff were just leaving when they both noticed an odd smell on their sister.

“What’s that smell?” Matt asked, to him it smelled of leather and smoke. After tutoring sometimes the smell was faint on her but today it was almost overpowering. Jessica shifted on her feet looking down. 

“Oh that, I ah...I hugged Jack after his session today, he’s finally getting the hang of those mathematical equations.” She prayed Jeff wouldn’t pull his alpha card and make her give the truth this wasn’t his place, no one set rules for this and she wasn’t going to let them.Quickly noticing the time she shoved her brothers out of the house after promising everything would be fine.

Meanwhile Jack was off talking to his Demon King. 

“Yes sir, I have a date with her tomorrow night. I’m telling you something isn’t right with her. It's not that she’s smart its almost her smell is off. She’s not a full werewolf that much I know to be true I just can’t figure out what else she is.”

Balor hummed, while tapping his chin. Coming up with away to pull her other side out.

“Tell me more about the lass Jack. Her personality.”

Jack had to think about that, the girl only had two friends whom she kept at arm's length, plus her two brothers. That was when he recalled a name.

“Jessica only has two friends, and if I remember correctly its because when she was younger, her best friend Aleister basically abandoned her shortly after her mother’s death.” Jack smiled at the information he remembered, as did Balor.

“Aleister you say? And didn’t you mention she can practically speak perfect Dutch? It was how she got out of taking a foreign language?” Balor tapped his fingers together this was far too good to be true. Aleister Black the powerful witch was friends with little wolf Jessica . No no there was far more to this than met the eye. “I know how to get her to show her other half. Follow the route I give you tomorrow, she won’t be able to resist.”

Saturday morning came and like all Saturdays Jessica was alone in the house. She got up, showered, shaved, brushed her teeth and hair. She put on some nice smelling lotion, and then got dressed. Though she thought better of her normal tomboy style and went with a pair of dark straight legged skinny jeans, and a decent shirt, along with her DC sneakers. In reality she didn’t really have girly clothes this was the best she was going to do for her date tonight and she wondered if this was even good enough. Seeing the time she decided to take off the decent outfit she had put on it, it was way too early anyways, and threw on her ring gear which was just a pair of shorts, and tank top. She played her music loud and set an alarm to let her know when she should stop to actually get ready, which of course would include another shower.

Several hours late, and Jess was drenched in sweat as her alarm blared. Greeting out the ring she showered and changed. She was putting her shoes on just as there was a knock at her door. Answering she let Jack in, as she quickly finished up. Not that there was too much for her to do. Getting back downstairs the pair left and walked to the local pizza parlor. They say, they ate the talked about random stuff. When they went to leave Jack had asked if Jessica would like to go on walk, honestly she saw no harm in it, again she was going to be the only person home anyways. Following the route Balor had given him, it isn’t long till Jessica hears a painfilled cry. She knows damn well she shouldn’t pay any mind but that’s just not the kind of person she is. She takes off in the sound of the cry, which is not the way Balor had intended the two to go, and she finds a young woman beaten in an alleyway. Jack is hiding in the shadows watching to see what the young girl does. Not noticing Jack nor smelling him, Jessica starts to talk to the young woman.

“Hey, I’m not sure what happened to you, but I can help you, if you let me. I swear I’m not here to harm you.” She offers a soft smile and the woman just nods. Once again checking for Jack and not seeing or smelling him she begins chanting a healing spell. Her body glows as the energies flow into the woman and all her injuries began to vanish.  Jack and gobsmacked at this, a hybrid of her kind hasn’t been in existence in who knows how long, and yet here she is only showing her wolf side, she must know its dangerous and only follows what her brothers tell her. Jessica helps the woman to her feet and wishes her a better rest of her night. She begins to run back towards the way where she might have lost Jack, and soon enough he appears around a corner panting. 

“Ah.. I’m so sorry I took off like that, I normally wouldn’t have.” Jessica looks down feeling embarrassed about the stunt she just pulled. Jack chuckles and shakes his head.

“No no it's fine, ya know you’re really fast you should try out for our schools track team.” He places his hand on Jessica’s shoulder as he leads her back to her house. Yeah he knows Balor is going to be upset he didn’t go the way he told him to but in all seriousness he’s pretty sure the girl only knows healing spellings so if he had an attack setup that just would not have worked. Getting her home it was already almost 11pm and that's when Jess noticed the car in the driveway and stomach sank. Why the hell were her brothers home early? She tried to quickly tell Jack goodnight and thank you but he insteaded on being proper and walking her to the door. Swallowing hard she allowed it.

As they got closer to the door, it swung open revealing a pissed off Jeff whos green eyes were fully gold, and Matt whos brown eyes where ice blue. Shaking Jess quickly said goodnight to her date once more, but not before he kissed her check and asked to do it again sometime. Walking past her brothers she knew she was in trouble and Jack may the Moon Goddess save his soul.Once the door shut Jack stalked around for a few minutes he wanted to hear what was going to happen.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU AND WHO THE HELL WAS THAT!” Jeff screamed and Jessica’s omega wolf gave in automatically. Speaking barely above a whisper she told Matt and Jeff almost everything that had happened and how it had gotten to their date. Matt was a little calmer after listening to his sister explain everything and in hindsight she was always alone on weekends and they never did set rules for her dating.Jessica ran to her room and locked the door. She wasn’t going to be yelled at just because they came home early. This had been her first date, and she had, had a good time up to that point.

[firekissedpiper]

— ✗ CHARADE

— ✗ Time Period: Late January, 2020.

— ✗ TW: Death, funeral, anti-religious thoughts, mentions of abuse.

Piper hated these things.

The ebony clad people, all sniffling and vying to try and show they were the most emotionally distraught. A dark way to think perhaps. But Piper had seen people. She knew people. And it wasn’t hard to be able to tell the crowd that’d shown up today was the type who would all be putting on the model worthy water works show. It was as if they were all ready to deliver a teary monologue on a soap opera. 

Every funeral she’d been to was like that. Elephant tears and couture gowns. As if the deceased cared about the new Louis Vuitton pumps of the season. She supposed that was just every funeral she’d been to with royals. Perhaps funerals for the common people were different. Maybe they were genuine. Maybe the person mattered more than their crown. 

Piper herself, was playing her own game of make belief. A tight lipped smile. Anyone knew she’d rather be scowling right now. Her straight posture, a regal pose that her mother would make some comment about if she was her. A black shirt combined with a skirt of all things. She was not Piper right now. She was just another sheep in the moment, hiding her true intentions, her true feelings. 

She was doing a lot of pretending lately. Pretending she wasn’t pregnant, pretending she was okay after murdering Tomas, pretending she didn’t love Gabel. She felt the slightest tremble within her stomach as the chaostrophic images flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Usually she’d rest a hand on her stomach, but the dress she wore barely concealed her bump now. The last thing she needed was the rumors.

“You look like a princess,” a voice purred from beside her. She looked up from her thoughts to see Gabel standing beside her. Even though that might have been misconstrued as compliment by anyone else. She could tell well enough by the amusement in his voice there was playful mockery mixed in. Sometimes she wondered what he’d say about her pregnancy, if he’d known. 

“Something important if I’m to blend in with the horde of mourning monarchs,” she retorted rather easily. She wouldn’t admit yet she was a mourning monarch herself, more genuine in her sullenness than she was ready to admit to herself.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you tried to be like other royals,” he purred, his trademark half-smirk on his lips. “May I sit?” He wasn’t usually this polite. It was probably an act, or maybe she didn’t remember him as well as she thought she did.

“And you’re any different, with the black suit and tie?” She jabbed back. A weak comment really. The brunette wasn’t exactly in the mood for the antics of the royal. 

“Well, father wouldn’t allow my funeral clothes to be anything different than traditional,” he commented, sitting down despite the fact she hadn’t agreed to such a thing. He crossed one leg over the other, making himself comfortable in his spot.

Piper settled back into her chair, fiddling subconsciously with the black skirt she was wearing. It was a rather loose fabric. It was soft - a good fabric for her anxiety twirling. When she was younger, her mother would shame her for such behaviors. Always complaining of wrinkles. Piper knew wrinkles were better than the other things she did. Thinking about the ways she used to pinch and press and pick at the scars on her burned hand made the old healed wounds ache once more. 

“You’re rather on edge,” Gabel noted, sounding very flippant. 

“Imagine that, given it’s a funeral and all,” Piper’s words dripped with sarcasm. Once upon a time, he had always done this. Whenever she was feeling the painful anxiety, or the fits of panic - when she’d often resort to destructive behaviors as opposed to dealing - he’d get her just irritated enough so she could let the cap off her emotions. He’d made her boil enough that steam would get out and she’d feel just a little relief. She missed it. She didn’t realize just how much he’d done until those months since their fight. 

“Well, does it really matter to you that much, surely very few people here actually care,” he pointed out, gesturing to the crowd. She looked around briefly. Some people were sat stone faced, others were pouring tears as if the pipe to their eyes broke and they simply couldn’t stop. She felt a stirring of hatred for those people. The ones making a spectacle out of this. It was usually something she carried very little about, but this time it mattered.

“I am not other people,” she remarked steadily, knowing that unlike most people, the guest of honor so to speak had meant something to her. 

“Here comes the family,” Gabel noted, taking her mind off the spiral she found herself going into. She didn’t know if that was the intention, or if perhaps her short attention span was starting to wear off on him. Hazel hues shifted to the left aisle of the church as she watched the family file in. They walked in perfect unison, looking fairly graceful and elegant. As was their job she supposed. Something about a united front.

Two females - both tall and thin and graceful. They looked like fairies, or what she imagined they’d look like. With their perfect figures and delicate features she could imagine if they couldn’t be princesses they’d one day have a career in modeling. Their almond shaped eyes glistened with tears. But in those chocolate orbs - the ones that almost appeared like molten gold with the sunlight pouring in through the windows - she could see past the feigned sadness. She could see the darkness coiling underneath. Despite their pretty forms she knew they were monsters. 

And of course, leading the group was a stone faced man. A perfectly trimmed grey beard, shaped to bring out a sharp jawline. Two accompany it was silver hair atop his head, trimmed and shaved into a rather smooth faded look, secured back with gel. He did not muster tears in the green eyes that might have looked so much like those of the deceased - but so much colder. No, he couldn’t pretend that much. Instead he appeared stone faced. The facade was layered, paired with an occasional lip twist as if he was holding back a well of emotions he was bombarded with upon entering the room. She didn’t hold back from staring at him. She knew the truth. 

Behind the three leaders of the family procession, were less defined members. They were quiet. She didn’t pay as much attention to them. After being greeted by the pastor, they all filed into the row. She knew the person who should have been resting in the empty closed coffin would have hated a church funeral. They’d hate the closed coffin too. 

“Burying an empty coffin like they actually care about the closure people claim to get. What a joke,” she muttered rather quietly. She didn’t want anyone else to hear her. Surely someone would make a big deal and she’d just contribute to the spectacle the tabloids would already be feeding on. “I hate this, wouldn’t you hate this?” She remarked, her anxiety showing in the hastily spoken words. 

“I do hate this,” he agreed briefly, his green eyes watching the procession rather carefully. 

Piper settled back somewhat, not enough to tighten her clothing and make the baby bump evident, but enough to try to become more comfortable. It was hard when she was as stiff as a wooden board, teeming with anxiety and wrecked with sadness. The brunette was having trouble concealing her emotions. 

It wasn’t two minutes after the family had seated themselves that the proceedings went on. The pastor took his place and began spewing as many lies as the people around them carried in each individual water droplet rolling down their faces. Lies of how the deceased took such comfort in God. It was a typical royal funeral. All the families were so tight in the religion department. It was like some royal tradition to worship one god or another. 

They were all told to rise. So she rose to her feet. The heels were uncomfortable as hell. It’d taken what felt like ages for her to try and find a pair that fit over her swollen feet. Pregnancy was such a pain. She couldn’t wait for the next six months to pass so she might finally be able to fit in her usual shoes. She was certain the pumps weren’t helping either honestly. But it was all part of the image, all part of blending in so it wasn’t so obvious that she didn’t belong with the crowd of imitation mourners. 

All at once, she tried to pay attention to both the crowd and the polished wooden coffin that sat in front of her. She took the opportunity of the closed eyes and bowed heads to see who actually seemed upset. Maybe she was just protective, or maybe she just knew the way these royal families were. Trying to slit each other’s throats one moment and then crying at their funerals the next. She hated this world so much.

Things were moving fairly quickly, at least it felt that way. It seemed like just a moment ago she’d been walking through the right aisle and tucking herself into one of the pews in the back. Now she was halfway through the service. A glance at the ornate clock told her it’d been more than a few minutes that had passed. Time just felt like it was moving faster. Moving too fast, to be correct. 

“Almost over,” Gabel chimed beside her, not bothering to whisper. It wasn’t as if he’d be noticed anyway.

When the pastor was done speaking, it was time for the eulogies. There were two. One from the cold man in the suit, the one who’d been making her life Hell for months. And then one from one of the beautiful monstrous pixies. She’d never met either, but she heard enough. Aside from the visitors, she knew enough about the others in the room. She’d been told stories of even the common people delivering cruelty to their crowned heir. 

She grit her teeth to hide her rage, so she could pretend like she wasn’t disgusted as the King put on the show of his life. If she did not know better, she would have believed that the deep creases in his face had been caused as he mourned for his former lover, for his wife, and now for his child. If she did not know better she would believe the words that sounded so sincere from his lips. But she knew better, and she knew that the words that dripped of honey and sincerity was just a way to disguise the venom that his mouth so often spilled. The spoonful of sugar that was meant to hide the foul taste of a bitter medicine. 

People around her fed right into it. Perhaps they believed him, or perhaps they were in on the act. Perhaps they were all just puppets, posing for the cameras that were no doubt televising this event. Somewhere in front of her she heard the first person break. Real or feigned? She didn’t know. She was starting to spin herself. Anger and crushing waves of melancholy had turned her brain into a tornado, picking up the chaotic emotions and the pieces of thoughts that came with it. 

She managed to stay silent. But she didn’t hide the fury and judgement in her eyes. She almost dared him to look at her. But he didn’t. He probably didn’t even know that she was hearing, judging him as he made a mockery out of his child’s funeral. It was a good thing she hadn’t brought Kaia or Ella. They shouldn’t have seen her like this. She was practically shaking.

“It’s infuriating isn’t it? He’s quite skilled at deception,” Gabel commented absently. His voice sounded faded.

Finally, the man stepped down from behind the podium, not before letting one tear slide down his face. So calculated. She understood the struggle now. Soon, one of the perfectly preened princesses rose from their seats. Tall and elegant, they glided up to the podium, as if it was a fashion show and not a funeral. She supposed that wasn’t so atypical. Most royals turned every walk into a runway when they had the chance to. 

The speech she delivered was far more heart wrenching, filled to the brim with childhood stories and memories. Tearful sentiments about losing her mother and now her brother being gone too. Piper knew a twisted lie when she saw it. The others in attendance believe it. But Piper knew the truth. She knew this girl had been just as much of a monster as the shark in the starch white suit. 

When the woman who presented herself broke down in tears near the end of her speech, claiming her brother now rested in Heaven with her mother, the rest of the church lost it too. So they wept, as if they had not been been complacent in the torture of the one who they claimed was now in Heaven. They wept as if their torment had not crafted the broken boy who sported the moniker of monster because he would rather be feared and hated than loved. 

Finally, she walked down the steps and headed back to her seat too. Piper was relieved when the pastor took over. Even his jabbering was easier to listen to than that of the family of serpents. The closing sentiments included a hymn and some spoken words of the deceased resting with god now. She wasn’t really listening by that time.

“That was a charade, wasn’t it? I suppose you’re not any better though,” Gabel commented rather glibly, amusement dancing on his features. 

Piper reeled from that comment. She stumbled to find the words to speak, a way to respond. “I am better,” she said quickly, dismissing his words. 

“You are sat pretending as if you’re clean. As if you’ve never inflicted just as much damage as they did. You act better, and angry. But the word monster left your lips too. Near the end you hated him too,” he said, as if he was saddened by that. And while he’d been hurt, Piper knew he was rarely one to show sadness. Anger was the first resort for Gabel.

“I didn’t mean it. It was a mistake, I was damaged,” she said rather quietly, almost embarrassed. It was one of her biggest regrets, calling him a monster. She still hadn’t forgiven herself. Her throat was starting to feel thick and dry, like she hadn’t had water in months. But the tears in her eyes told another story. “I miss you,” she whispered quietly. “There are so many things I want to tell you,” she said the words rather weakly. 

“You had your chance to do that, but you didn’t,” he told her. 

Piper had a hard time getting a handle on her emotions again. She was trying to stop the falling tears. For so long she’d been able to hold back, to not cry about what had happened. To not cry about what she lost. She didn’t even realize that the funeral had ended. People were starting to leave. Finally, a voice pulled her from her spiral. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” It was a rough voice, old and weak. But someone soft at the same time. She looked up to see an elderly woman gesturing to the seat behind her. “It’s hard for an old lady to make their way around these seats you know.” 

“Yes, it’s available,” Piper said, looking at the empty seat beside her. No amount of wishing, daydream or imagination was going to fill that seat with who she wanted it to be. No amount of memories could make it so she could really hear his voice again, or take in his scent. 

The elderly lady sat down alongside Piper, huffs and puffs leaving her as she did so. “It was a beautiful service wasn’t it?” The woman asked.

“Yes, lovely,” Piper didn’t share her true opinion. It wasn’t going to gain her any popularity among this crowd. Aside from that she couldn’t tell if this woman was testing her or was genuine. 

“How did you know him?” The woman asked, looking over at Piper with a soft expression. 

“Who?” She asked. She knew who she was talking about, but she needed to hear it. She wouldn’t be able to convince herself it was real until she heard it. 

“Prince Gabel, God rest his soul.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #441

“all alone, he turns to stone while holding his breath after death  /  terrified of what’s inside, to save his life he crawls like a worm from a bird”

Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Yep, a few. What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? If I'm having a really bad day, I can tolerate as early as 7:00. :x What is you favorite type of lunch meat? Honey ham, probably. What time of the year do you dislike the most? Summer is disgusting. It's too hot, too humid, too many bugs, and I just hate it. Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? No, that sounds gross. What is your favorite color to wear? b l a c k Are you an overachiever? Oh, hunny. What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe uhhhh big eyes. What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'hara) would you marry? Darkiplier bc he is merely a misunderstood soft boi. How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? Legs: It's been nearly a year. Pits: not that long, considering I shave them every time I get in the shower. What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? I'm sure it would be something in one of the letters I sent Jason. Or Dad. Idk. Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? The phase never ended lmao. What is your favorite thing about your life? My loved ones. Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Sorry, but I'm picking the animals. Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? Yes. How many real bfs/gfs have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Yes. Except for when I was with Tyler. Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Yeah. What’s the best Nirvana song? I'm not sure, really... Maybe "Drain You?" What was the last thing that impressed you? No clue. When was the last time you were in a pet store? Several months ago when I went in to get more rats for Venus. What nationality is your last name? Irish. What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? Plain, rippled Lays in French onion dip. Who was the last boy that you saw cry? I don't know, actually. It may have been Sara's dad, which was years ago. Does your mom know you do surveys? I mean no, it's not like it's come up in conversation. Have you ever had a serious injury? When I was a kid, there was this one time I was running down the road with my friend, and I tripped; I was a fast runner, so I skinned the everliving FUCK out of my knees to the point there was even pus. I was SOBBING, and it took weeks to heal; I had the scars for years. What was the last thing you achieved? Losing weight at the gymmmm. Staying dedicated to going. Would you enjoy being famous? No. I couldn't take all the eyes on me and even ONE person's negative judgment. What’s under your bed? A big box of my art supplies. Do you enjoy travelling? Yeah. I wish I could do it more. Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? No. When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? Not since I first tried it at elementary school. It was absolutely disgusting. Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I doubt it. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? No. If I'd listened to him while driving, I could've gotten myself killed while merging onto the highway. People are assholes and didn't want to move over. Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Probably "Freakshow." Does mind over matter work for you? Not usually, no. Are you paranoid? Oh yes. What is the best thing about winter? Everything!!! Literally the only BAD thing about winter is the dry skin/lips. I love the cold, Christmas and all that comes with it, the decor, hot chocolate, snow, getting all cuddly... Everything. :') Have you ever been truly in love? Absolutely. Are you currently planning a trip? No. A trip to Illinois is just a wish right now. How many plants are in your home? None, I think? What is your favorite possession? Excluding my pets (because I don't like calling them "possessions"), probably my laptop. Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? I have before, yes. What movies have tripped you out? Off the top of my head, the only entertainment media in general that has ever truly "tripped me out" was the first time I played the Silent Hill game. The movie didn't affect me to that level because I already understood the concept. When I watched Jason play it for the first time, I was SO confused and just blown away by the concept that I did loads of research and just thinking about it all. That franchise is just cool as shit, okay. Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? I LOVED rollerblading. I haven't done it in years, though. Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? NO. I will NOT settle. Being genuinely in love with my partner is too important to me for me to ever do so. I don't know if any of my friends are in that situation. Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? With my current body? FUCK no. If I was happy with my body, the answer is still probably no. I'm too self-conscious and awkward with that kind of stuff, and besides, I really don't think I want a picture like that to exist of myself to avoid potential trouble. Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? No. What summertime treats do you love? We have this local slushy place that is FUCKING BOMB. It may sound basic, but they have SUCH a vast variety of flavors and goodies you can top it with that it's truly just so amazing. How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. Save for how things were with Tyler... I just felt like I was supposed to. What do you hate most about moving? I. Hate. The process. Of moving. It is just so, so stressful to me. I have a very hard time confronting big tasks, and that's exactly what packing and unpacking entails. Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Not necessarily. Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No. Has anyone ever whistled at you? I don't think so. Do you like scarves? No. Is your father homophobic? Possibly. I don't actually know. I honestly don't think he took Sara's and my relationship seriously, so that may be a sign. Do you take gummy vitamins? The only vitamin I take now is vitamin D, which isn't a gummy. Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? Ha, yeah. I gave Jason a makeover once. Who would you like to meet before you die? MARK. I am so determined, alsdjfkaj;wek;rj. I just want to hug him and say thank you and ugly-cry. If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? No. Even if I had the body of a model. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The fuckin' flat earth theory, probably. If Heaven and Hell exists, where you going when you die? Well, considering I have an, uh, very negative opinion of the Christian god... Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? My mom. The day she passes is a day I am inexplicably horrified of. What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? My life. If there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom really could use it. Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? I love "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse, but idk if it was actually written for the movie. How old was the first person you kissed? He was 18 when we first kissed. Will you be a strict parent one day? I never want to be a parent. If I hypothetically became one, I don't think I'd be strict, necessarily, but very protective. Last person to stand up for you? Probably Mom, idk. Have you been to a baby shower? Yeah, a few. Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My dad. What’s your favorite high school memory? Just... a lot with Jason. Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I prefer being in a (healthy) relationship, but I won't get into one just for the sake of having one. What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Hmmm... scuba-dive, maybe? What subject at school did you absolutely hate? Math. Italian food or Chinese food? Italian. I don't really like (most) Chinese food. Do you like to make flash cards when you study? I rarely did that. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? Yes, somehow. Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Ashley. What do you think about Marilyn Manson? He's one of my favorite musical artists, but he's a disgusting dick personally. Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing, really. I was a very well-behaved kid. Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? Yeah, I have a Canon. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? No. Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? Not every year, but most. Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No. Jalapeños: yay or nay? I loooove them. Did you ever play Minecraft? Nah. My niece is getting into it. Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I did have one. I wasn't one of those premium members or anything like that; I just had a basic account. Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Bitch me. It's extremely embarrassing. I 100% got it from my dad. What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The manner through which Jason broke up with me. It left me traumatized. What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I'd lose a shitload of weight, for one. My teeth would be whiter, my eyes bigger and bluer, I'd want my hair colored/able to hold color far better, I'd lighten and lessen my body hair, make my skin clearer, thin my eyebrows... I'd change a lot. What are your feelings on feminism? MANDATORY. Absolutely necessary in a misogynistic society. However, I do believe some people take it way too far to a point it is anti-man and puts women on a holy pedestal. It is about equality. Describe your first relationship? Perfect, until it wasn't. Describe your last relationship? Wonderful and healthy, but distance and our health were issues at the time. Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? My history with sex is confusing and complicated and I really don't know. Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? Thinking about it... it's probably because of how Simba runs from his problems and bad memories, but returns to confront them and is victorious. That's how I want to be. What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I'm nice and clearly sincerely cared about them and their feelings. Do you feel protective over someone? My sisters, nieces and nephews, Sara... What perfume/cologne do you wear? It's called "Blush." Where did your vehicle come from? I don't have my own, but Mom's came from a girl at the dance studio. She ran into a deer, and the front got fucked up, but the sweetheart paid to fix it up to being operable so Mom had her own car. The front bumper is kept intact with zip ties and duct tape, but hey... it works and has for many, many years now, lol. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? Ummmm... I actually don't remember. What is your favorite way to eat chicken? As tenders, probably. It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Red velvet. This year for my bday, our controlling-as-fuck family friend bought me my birthday cake without consulting ANYBODY, and I was so fucking annoyed. It was a very kind gesture, yes, but um, can I have a say, please? What do you wear to bed? Usually men's pj pants and a tank top. What were you doing at 8pm last night? Sleeping, actually. I was extremely tired and went to bed early.