#{fit like a daydream ~ zach}

[thesamecoiin]

tag drop ;; sorcha

[ghoulysaphomet]

Blorbo Playlists: Jason Todd

Songs that makes me think of Jaybird based on either lyrics or vibes. If it's lyrics I'll specify which ones.

Laugh I nearly died - The Rolling Stones

Always - Saliva

In the shadows - The Rasmus

Johnny Ringo - Crown The Empire

Believe - Hollywood Undead

Academy - BlackGryph0n, Baasik.

Based on these lyrics:

Can't sleep 'cus I'm in too deep and I'm wide awake. Cold tears for the years they've taken' away. Dawn breaks, every muscle aches and we've just begun - But I need to fight to be the best, 'gonna train you you want it, nothing ever changes without it.

Getting Stronger - Michelle Creber, BlackGryph0n, Baasik

Based on these lyrics:

My return is a mystery, thoguht you had control of me? I'm offended that you're so surprised. That first defeat was a practice round but I'll pull myself off the ground and I've already planned your demise. I won't stop fightin' cus' I'm not done yet, you're gonna regret this time I won't let you forget.

Nightmare - Set It Off

Time Will Tell - AONE ft. T.Stebbins

Blasphemy - Bring Me The Horizon

Sleep - My Chemical Romance

Based primarily on these lyrics:

Some say now suffer all the children

And walk away a savior, or a madman and polluted

From gutter institutions, don't you breathe for me

Undeserving of your sympathy 'Cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did

Gunman - Orden Ogan

Based on these lyrics:

My boots sink in bullet shells I have become an outlaw

Nightmare of the damned, the hangman left the scaffold

I took him out, still blindfold I made this place a ghost town painted the lanes red. I'll find you, I'll hunt you down

I'll be your final nightmare, I am the gunman

I bring salvation on this day Here comes the gunman

You know that vengeance is my name

Kamikazee - MISSIO

River of Fire - In This Moment

Burn - In This Moment

Interlude IV (showtime) - Zach Callison

Till I Collapse - Eminem

Machinegun - OG. by KIRA, covered by Wasureru

Meltdown - OG. by Iroha Sasaki, english cover by Kuraiinu

This song is very very Jason so picking just some lyrics is hard bcs all of it fits.

Honey I'm Home - GHOST

Human - Anavae

Mortal Remains - Blackbriar

Drowning - Radio Company

Sleepless - Josh A

Lonely - Palaye Royale

Based on these lyrics:

My life don't mean that much to me so I'll live it for you, yeah I'l live it for you, but you can't stand the sight of me so what's the point of this fucked up catastrophe? Daydreaming of my funeral, like who would show? I bet no one would go. Hey dad don't show up for me now just to bury your little boy in the ground, you broke my heart when you left me just' waiting, just waitin'.

In the middle of the night - Within Temptation

Masterpiece - Motionless in white

Based on these lyrics:

I need to heal what I inflict but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it, as I play roulette with a broken gun I confess this sins with a sharp and spiteful songs. Outlined by guilt my portrait stares in a gallery where the walls lie bare. Illustrate al of my pain and set it all ablaze - So how do I apologise and put the tears back in your eyes? When every canvas that I paint is a masterpiece of my mistakes, in in the light of my demise I see my failures in your eyes.

Wires - The Neighbourhood

Werewolf - Motionless In White

Based on these lyrics:

And in the pale moonlight, a debt to be paid

For one must suffer for all eternity, nothing lasts forever, even guilty pleasures

I could be up all night, but I'm paralyzed when the creature comes alive, don't wanna feel. I could be honest, I could be human

I could become the silver bullet in your head

But you can't break my heart like I can.

Afraid - The Neighbourhood

I made a playlist, too::')

[wooglebear]

For anyone wondering why this post is so late

Anywho, have my OC evil Team, Team Zephyr!

This OC team is a love letter to the Pokémon Franchise and I came up with them after hearing that Archie and Maxie used to work for a third team.

There's, like, zero canon information about this team, and there's no official art of what it even looked like, so it's hard to tell if they were like this. I was just having fun with the concept

With that out of the way, let me introduce them.

Team Zephyr is mostly made of girls, but there's one boy. Their uniforms are white and mint green. Their team symbol is a small glittering butterfly.

Their leader is a young woman named Goldie. I named her that to keep the naming structure of Maxie and Archie, given that the Zadie name didn't sound particularly imposing, and her appearance would be basically that in this picture I made in SV

I can’t draw to save my life, but I made reference pages for some of the Team Zephyr outfits to help me get a better sense of the character.

Goldie is wearing a long sleeved sweater vest, mint green in color, emblazoned with the emblem of Team Zephyr on the left side. This sweater vest is over a white dress skirt. She wears a black skirt. Black Mary Jane shoes with white knee socks.

She has a purple hair clip in her hair, which is where she keeps her Keystone.

Goldie seems detached from the world. She thinks the world can be better, and as a result actually forgets that she wants to cause people to suffer. She's also a bit of a pageant queen, and she can pinpoint anyone’s emotional vulnerabilities after being in the pageant circuit for so long.

Her Grunts are all female. They wear mint green bodysuits, with knee high white boots and mint green gloves. The bodysuits have white highlights.

The grunts all have black hair in twin tails.

And then there's Admin Zach, Goldie's new right-hand-man.

Zach has freckles and golden blond hair and bright blue eyes and always has a “I’m better than you” smirk on his face. He wears round rimmed glasses, and wears a special variant of the Team Zephyr Grunt uniforms. This variant has the mint green and white inverted. But a pink bowtie is added to this outfit.

He acts kind, shy, sweet, gentle. And smart. Whenever someone calls them an all girls team, he's gonna have a snappy comeback.

Of course, that’s just a facade. Beneath his sweet exterior there is a narcissistic, sadistic, and tyrannical person who wants to be in charge of Team Zephyr. He hates Goldie.

He has Baby Pokémon, which he never evolves, and a Dark Type one (Asbol), to foreshadow his villainous nature.

For Admin Judy, I envisioned a character based on Darla Dimple from "Cats Don't Dance". She is a bit of theater kid, but she's evil. She watches Goldie's pageants, so she actually knows quite a lot about the world of fashion, sewing, hairdressing, etc. she is much more of a strategist. She's quite mean and spiteful.

Judy has smoky pink hair tied in a ponytail with a white hair tie, and violet eyes. She wears a mint green and white polka dot dress, white stockings and white Mary Janes. She has a pair of white gloves on her hands.

She actually favors Bug/Flying types, which signify her preference for strategy over brute force.

Admin Luna has short neck length brunette hair with a red streak and red eyes. She wears a white dress shirt, a mint green ascot/cravet, a red pleated skirt, and knee high leather boots.

She is a daydreamer, and a bit of a tough girl. She likes to be friends with everyone, but it's not easy to be friends with Goldie.

She's the only nice member of Team Zephyr.

She prefers big Flying Pokemon like Tropius or Gyarados, which fits her preference for brute force.

When they meet Maxie and Archie, most of them are not in their Zephyr Uniforms. Goldie shows up in full pageant girl glory, Judy is in a slightly more muted set, Zach is in a tuxedo, and Luna has, like, a hairclip or something.

Goldie even has her own Pokémon: A Crobat, A Mightyena, a Skarmory, a shiny Flygon, a Vivillion Pokeball Pattern (which she got from a trade in Kalos) and a Sableye (which can go Mega).

She's misunderstood, though

As for her backstory?

Let's put it this way: Archie and Maxie used to work for another organization known as Team Zephyr. They used to be friends, and they were both actually nicer than what we saw in ORAS. Maxie was actually Goldie's former right-hand-man. And Archie was Goldie's former flame, before she broke up with him.

Eventually, and this took place after the Hardenshipping hookup, it was clear neither wanted anything to do with Team Zephyr anymore. By this point, there was no stopping Maxie and Archie. Eventually, one of them just went "I quit!" and did so.

Since this AU has the ORAS versions of Archie and Maxie, and I don't think a man of science like Maxie would have been angry enough to do that, it means that Archie does. And Maxie followed suit when he quit.

That was basically the straw that broke the camel's back. Their breakup did horrible things to all three of them, making them mean and bitter.

In Goldie's eyes, Maxie and Archie are MIA, and it isn't until she meets them again that she reunites with them.

Archie hates Goldie, considering he hasn't broken up with his boyfriend Maxie yet.

Goldie is a bit fond of Maxie, seeing as he was her former number one aide.

Goldie herself is neutral on Archie.

She wants to improve Hoenn by any means necessary, and tries to set up the parameters for Perfect Hoenn's existence but it goes sideways in some way

[ah0yh0y]

The alhaven ask game thing:

Epiphany!

ohhhhh epiphanyyyyy thats a hard one simply becuase there is so much i could talk about . warning this is long

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there's individual character epiphanies - like the fact that Fate doesnt truely dictate your actions, and that horrible events in your past don't dictate what the rest of your life will be like (mordred , morgana respectively) {this theme i think is most prevalent in We Were Villains (Weep for me)}.

on a lighter note - there's ari's epiphany that she hadn't told zach yes to the whole platonic marriage thing in first snow. i always found that funny like she's just WE HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THIS????

(these are are all on my ao3 btw my username is writetype but you have to be logged in to see them)

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in terms of plot points i think my favourite one (and probably the best fit for this prompt) is the camping trip, set during the main cast's teen years (zoe's 19/20 , zach's like 17 , will's also 17 and aimee is 15) - for context before this point the family is fractured - aimee and zoe's mother {morgana} died around two years previous and aimee really hates zoe for not being there for her (zoe's was struggling before this but now is trying her best to reconnect with her sister , aimee is.. resentful) zach hates his cousin , will , seeing him as an intrusion bc they are FINE GODDAMIT WE DON'T NEED YOUR HELP. the adults are trying but they are spread thin (especially with inflation and grief and such). tensions are starting to thaw though a bit but still threatening to yknow explode

and so when they finally get that one week off around christmas - what better way to spend it than CAMPING WOO.

and its that traditional thing of everything is going to shit but along the way , through broken shopping carts and getting lost in ditches and climbing trees and the lack of mosquito repellent , they bond a bit . and the breathing space becomes wider and gazes are cooler. it kinda feels remincent of those nights where they used to bring out sparklers and write their names in air , its looking at the remains of them smoking , orange bright , but instead of feeling the brand of when you couldn't stop stepping on leftovers , searing your barefoot in a grisly crevice - its just feeling content. being quenched by the outside tap. its not all gone , the water still makes you itch all over funny but - its better.

its not quite a massive epiphany, more a realisation but is one of my favourite moments still

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i think the most important epiphany for me in terms of alhaven - is my own . i used to (and still do in some moments) feel bad for the unrealisticness of alhaven and the fact it was all fluffy and very badly worldbuilt. it didn't feel like a serious story like the ones that my friends would write about , the ones you see in novels . the dead come back to life , some ocs become famous ish , there's swords and historical costumes readily accessible and cheap. alhaven as a town has a kebab shop even tho its technically in the middle of nowhere, dragons , aimee grows up to host a bookish gameshow thing . murder most unladylike the netlifx adaptation exists - and alot of the story is just about the mundane . (also coupled with the fact alhaven is also the paracosm amplified things - like its my daydream world for goddam sakes)

but like the biggest epiphany for me that even if it didn't feel serious - this story was serious, to me. fluff content and the mundane wasn't a lesser form of writing - it wasn't cringe. it made me feel happy and thats all it really needed to be for it to be important. for it to matter. for it to be worthy.

alhaven has been with me for almost more than 6 years now , and to feel ashamed of it feels like a disservice to that younger me , happily writing harry potter , bbc merlin and percy jackson cross over fic with a green pen at 11pm at night.

its probably one of the epiphanies im most grateful for actually.

[specialagentartemis]

A Catalogue of Longfics I Want (Plan?) To Write

Only ideas I think would be multiple chapters and 10k+ words; doesn’t even include oneshots like Sisko Negotiates Space NAGPRA or Picard Goes To An Archaeology Conference or Teen Ratthi Angsts About Going To College or The Crew Of The Hermes Gets Murdered And Their Brains Scooped Out.

Ranked from 1 🌱 = this is just daydreams and vibes, to 5 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 = I have a 10-page outline with every plot beat and thematic parallel written out.

A * means that I’ve actually posted several chapters to AO3 already

Wolf 359

The Last Days of the Lovelace Administration 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 Lovelace tells Minkowski what happened on her mission. Fully canon compliantly tragic. Everyone dies. Frame narrative. Lovelace-centric.

*To Stand Together Against Fate (Lambert Week fic) 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 An AU that spun off Zach Valenti’s “Lambert Week” streams. Lovelace and Lambert fight fate and REFUSE to let anyone die. The timeline gets slippy and things start getting weird. Lovelace won’t let a little thing like temporal causality hurt her crew though.

*Change the Rules 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱 Minkowski, Eiffel, and Hilbert do Box 953.

The Tiamat Horror 🌱🌱🌱 Zhang’s mission.

—

The Murderbot Diaries

Anthropology fic 🌱🌱🌱 Murderbot and Thiago go to a Corporation Rim mine where the miners are trying to unionize and strike, to do linguistic anthropology. They get more than they bargained for. Featuring SecUnit OCs, original filk, worker solidarity, and speculative linguistics.

*Home Again 🌱🌱🌱 The PresAux crew are home after their whole survey ordeal… but changed by the experience. Not the same people they were, and they don’t fit quite the same way. Augh I want to finish this but I’m kinda stuck on some of the chapters

Volescu backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱🌱 What if he was a political refugee and went through Some Shit. Would that be fucked up or what.

Pin-Lee backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱 Her CCC-esque service year before college.

Overse backstory fic 🌱🌱🌱🌱 Moved from a CR station to Preservation as a child. This causes some feelings.

Pin-Lee Exit Strategy POV 🌱🌱🌱🌱 As de facto leader here she was having a fucking Time.

Consuela Makeba’s story 🌱🌱🌱 THE EPIC OF HOW PRESERVATION WAS FOUNDED 300 YEARS AGO!!

The murder mystery one I started in an AUpril snip and went actually this is a banger concept 🌱 No idea where to go from here but it was a cool idea

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Greek Epics And Mythology

Polites perspective on the Odyssey 🌱🌱 He gets to survive actually because honestly. Give one of Odysseus’s men a break. Something about how the men who weren’t kings and demigods and great remembered heroes still went Thru This Shit too. Epic poem in dactylic hexameter because I hate myself apparently

Odysseus adopts Cassandra 🌱🌱🌱 based on a tumblr post hell if I can find again. Clever use of Odysseus calling himself “Nobody”. Means he found a way to hear her prophecies and believe them, so she cuts a deal—she gets him home in 3 months rather than 10 years on the promise that if she does so he’ll adopt her as a legitimate daughter and princess of Ithaca. Very meta. In the format of a classic Sophoclean or Euripidean play.

Brithawon goes with Nestor to the Trojan War, has a bad time 🌱 I just think it would be fun

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Star Trek

Kira is upset about Cardassian archaeologists on Bajor 🌱🌱 Sooooo much potential here

Sarina Douglas becomes an advocate for genetically engineered people’s rights 🌱 Here too!!!

—

Other

‘Emergence’ (Noel/Leon in 10th century Chaco Canyon) 🌱🌱🌱 An alternate ending to the Time Trap! series. No I never read the real ending that’s irrelevant. Noel and Leon fuck in this one. Also there is political intrigue regarding a Chaco elite marriage

The Tiamat Horror… 2! Primordial Deep version! (Sirena Halcyon and the 10 years she spent trapped in an underwater ocean research station) 🌱🌱🌱🌱 God!!! What was she DOING for ten years stuck in the place where her one surviving colleague killed all the rest of them! Featuring cuddling, horrifying transformations, and cannibalism.

[alkalinefrog]

If you were to make a Lawlight playlist, what songs would you have on it?

OHOHO ohhh man, bless you for this ask

Ok, I wanted to tell the story of their relationship from when they first meet, their cat-and-mouse rivalry, their bonding during yotsuba arc, the betrayal, making up, and wrap it all up with a happy ending! I’m also really into making playlists with fun transitions between songs.

Here ya go, listen to them in order for the full experience! I made a youtube playlist for it here

Fight the War - Kittie Harloe

Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer

Such a Whore (Stellular Remix) - JVLA (this one’s optional lol)

Made for You - OneRepublic

Great Big Storm - Nathan Ruess

Read My Mind - The Killers

Someone To You - BANNERS

Geronimo - Sheppard

You Light My Fire - Nate Ruess

If I Lose Myself - OneRepublic

The Death of Me - Marianas Trench

Porcelain - Marianas Trench

Lights Out, Words Gone - Bombay Bicycle Club

Lost My Mind - Alice Kristiansen

Blood // Water - grandson

Lions and Dragons - Zach Williams

To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra

Only the Lonely Survive - Marianas Trench

If you listen to it, lemme know what you think! If you wanna know more about each song choice, read my play-by-play expo below the cut!

Fight the War - Pre-relationship! The cat-and-mouse chase. The game of chess. Catch me if you can! Not romantic yet, we’re setting the stage!

Teeth - This one’s pretty self-explanatory LMAO. Their first meeting and it’s electric! They hate each other, but they’re catching feelings, and they hate that they’re catching feelings.

Such a Whore (Stellular Remix) - Aight, hear me out. Their relationship’s got layers. This one’s super love/hate and spicy lol. It’s pretty self-indulgent. You can omit this one if you want, it’s admittedly the weakest link in terms of playlist flow.

Made For You - Still dancing around one another, sizing the other up. (also love the church-like vocals at the end. Perfectly eerie! It really fits the themes of the show) --- and I’m REAL PROUD of the transition here between songs

Great Big Storm - Yotsuba arc time! Tonal shift! This one’s sort of when their relationship transitions into something more genuine; more supportive. Things start to get more joyful! I see it as mostly from Light’s perspective, especially the verse lyrics about falling asleep --- “But sometimes I fall sleep at night, and I just know you're smiling at me / Oh, one day I'm gonna make this up to you“

Read My Mind - They’re stuck together 24/7. They can’t avoid talking, man. But the more they talk, the more they find they intuitively understand the other. They start not-so-subtly flirting (”A subtle kiss that no one sees”) ---- also love this line for them: “Woman, open the door, don't let it sting /  I wanna breathe that fire again“

These next few are just more relationship vibes! Bonding time!

Someone To You - L’s POV! He’s falling, and falling HARD. He wants to come out of the shadows for Light-- to give him the world! I imagine that this is still all in his head. Daydreaming about what could be!

Geronimo - Deciding to take the plunge! I imagine this like a montage.

You Light My Fire - CELEBRATE! Both of them are super giddy! I like the lyrics about going to bed after a fight for them! “I wanna throw the fight and kiss away your pain tonight But that would only make this harder She can't stand to sleep alone, ah no, and I hate losing so I wait till we get tired“

If I Lose Myself - First-time vibes :’D awww

The Death of Me - They wake up one day and realize: “Oh. Oh no. This is a bad idea, a really REALLY bad idea--- but I can’t help it!” Tonal shift back and forth from hype to introspective back to hype for the internal argument. The lyrics are pretty on the nose lol. (the end of the song also has some creepy whispering ‘cuz it’s supposed to be listened to in the context of the album, but it helps lead into the next song SO WELL.)

Porcelain - This is a moment of weakness. Someone slips up; something’s brought to the light. They’re only human. No going back now.

Lights Out, Words Gone - Angst time! They comforted each other during the last song, but neither of them like being vulnerable. They have a lot of work to do if this is going to last. They make up by the end of the song. Love the lyrics about lies! Pretty apt for these two: “Keep your old and wasted word My heart is breaking like you heard But the town has always turned These lies and made them all burn”

Lost My Mind - Gently falling deeper and deeper. Too fast; too soon. They know they’re running out of time, but it’s so easy to ignore that when they’re with each other.

Blood // Water - KIRA’S BACK. BETRAYAL. REALITY COMES CRASHING DOWN. (I really like the transition into this one)

Lions and Dragons - The aftermath of the betrayal. Light’s the Dragon, breathing fire, and L’s the Lion, burned. “I lost you again And I lost my mind And I told folks that they Shouldn't call for a while You should write me one evening And point out all the problems that happened But I'll still wait and dream That you are the lion and I am the dragon” (lowkey, this was my go-to breakup song in college lol)

To Build a Home - They’ve both hurt and been hurt. They’ll never forget, because if they did their forgiveness would be meaningless. Light remembers everything he’s done -- he’ll never not be Kira. But they’re ready to move forward. They’ve chosen each other.

Only the Lonely Survive - Bringing the mood back up! I couldn’t not end this on something upbeat. They deserve to have some fun! Love the lyrics in this one for them! They’ve accepted what their relationship will always be, and embrace it! (I also love that the harmonization makes it sound like they’re singing to each other) “I don't know how you feel yourself But I'd rather hurt here than be happy somewhere else No one will scar me like you do But no one will ever be compared, compared to you” -------AND “But I know A love like this will end in tragedy You know Every kiss suspendin' gravity Burns us both To love this close We lose ourselves And I know we won't get out alive But only the lonely survive” (If I can find the time I’d love to animate them singing this chorus)

And that’s that! If you want an album for Lawlight vibes, I highly recommend “Phantoms” by Marianas Trench. It was hard not to just copy/paste all the songs from it into the playlist.

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

[agreasyonion]

LOGAN’S PLAYLIST LETS GO

1. The Elements by Tom Lehrer: I love Tom Lehrer so this made me happier. Possibly a reference to the early “teacher” vines (though I’m not sure that’s supposed to be Logan,) when Character Thomas was studying science or Logan just being nerdy.

2. White & Nerdy by Weird Al Yankovic: Logan wanting to be cool, but, by the title, is “white & nerdy.”

3. Algorhythm by Childish Gambino: Very interesting choice (I love it, keeps me up even later.) The original song is, supposedly, a negative critique on society (wow I hate that word,) varying from selfish intentions from misguided aspirations in the logical way.

4. Fitter Happier by Radiohead: In a fitting playlist called “Ok Computer,” it decscribes an ideal future, or rather pointing out our own. It does this in a way to reflect our world: unemotional, cold and uneasy but by only describing modern life. A bit like how Logic can be.

5. Medicine by STRFKR: Wow, already hitting me heavy. STRFKR do make some very philisophical songs; I think this one is about how you can either be perfect and not realize it, or know you are and grow lazy and egotistical. However, for Logan’s case it could be about him ignoring all the other parts of his identity because, to him, Logic can’t be Logic with anything other than the hard facts and figures, right? This one kind of stumps me (I’m going on a whim with all of these, by the way.)

6. The Watchtower - Unreleased B-side - Bonus Track by The Dø: The watchtower is the symbolized “logical viewpoint” for Thomas or Logan hiding away all his other details, because Logan thinks that it’s the safest way to continue because he may embarrass himself, or be wrong, which would, to him, go against the ideaology of Logic never being wrong, feeling things, and not being “weak.” Of course, this is slowly tearing him apart.

7. The Breach by clipping. : Not only does it fit in with the whole rapping part, oh boy does it match. In the album, this is supposed to be a computer (wow) on a spaceship containing human slaves (wow) being shipped into cargo as they plot to break out. The computer briefs the situation in rap (kind of sounds like someone,) before being cut off by static, gunshots and alarms, implying the humans have broken out. Maybe this could be Logan during an anxiety attack, or any other mental breakdown? Who knows.

8. Letter C by Zach Sherwin: Logan daydreaming of being cool, being liked and standing up for himself or having something right to say, but only coming up with the ideas later. This is really fitting for him, scarily almost.

9. Galaxy Song by Monty Python: This is definitely Logan calming down Virgil. Change my mind. I think there is a pattern with the structure of the songs.

10. Streaks by ANIMA! : Logan encouraging either everyone or Virgil (if we are sticking to the structure,) to feel better, even if it’s not in the typical way. Also acting like a teacher with students.

11. What I Do For U by Ra Ra Riot: Logan being unappreciated and wanting to get recognized by Thomas and/or the other sides. Ouch.

12. Erase Me by Ben Folds Five: It’s the depression song! Logan feeling like he is constantly getting pushed aside and ignored, possibly feeling like Patton or Roman are more appreciated. Mainly going with Roman, because of the next song.

13. ART IS DEAD by Bo Burnham: Logan is very confused. I am a very mixed bag about this one. Maybe Logan making fun of the whole entertainment (cough cough Roman’s) career, maybe he’s confused about how he needs attention and recognition badly, but sees that as an imperfection? Seeing how hard the others work and having an identity crisis as he viewed himself as the hardworking one, realizing he’s not the only one in that situation and is improving slower than all the other sides? Perhaps it isn’t actual art, but rather Patton’s work for his emotional stability and realizing how important he actually is? hhhh

14. Equation from The Little Prince: Link back to Pattons (I kind of smell Logicality here, but hey.) Logan is naturally questioning about how to express himself without the fear of being ridiculed. Mainly it’s about him asking if he’s good enough, and what does his work do to benefit Thomas.

15. Sunrise from In The Heights: Could be platonic or romantic with either Roman or Patton, but it looks like Logicality to me (based on canon based, or not,) because of the romantic subtext and confirmed ships. Logan is Benny and Patton is Nina in this song, especially when we see Logan trying to learn a langauge at the start of a video (it’s four in the morning and I’m too tired to research.) But mainly, it’s due to Benny craving more and more knowledge from Nina.

16. One More Time with Feeling by Regina Spektor: Logan is trying to be more open and expressive! Yay! Or maybe not, I don’t know. Possibly Patton trying to teach him, literally or just by taking example, how to be more open and honest with himself.

17. In My Mind by Amanda Palmer: Logan wishes he was like the others. This is a big yikes. On an upside, he wants to improve rather than being stuck, and learn how to be more open.

18. Not Perfect by Tim Minchin: Logan accepting that they’re all not perfect, and perfection is impossible, but that’s okay, despite what they have felt, or are going through, or just with Character Thomas as a person. Also, Logan’s playlist does include quite a few comedy pianists.

19. Human by Tank and the Bangas: Another song from the same band as Pattons. It could be to Thomas, to any other side, or to himself.

20. Time Adventure from Adventure Time: First of all HOW DARE YOU, second of all is is this forshadowing? Like, I get I ended this similarly with Pattons, and that this is just the what it’s thrown into this mess, but is it? With Pattons playlist, it ended with “So Long,” while Roman’s ending song “GO,” is about exiting a stage and becoming your true self, while Logans is the end of Adventure Time. “You and I will always be best friends.” You and I. Two. I know not all lyrics can be perfect, and it’s probably referring to all sides, or just Patton, but this has got me suspicious.

Will add when I actually get some sleep lmao

[capsleafsstarshurricanehamilton]

What Do You Think You Are Doing?

Request from @royal-but-ruthless : Can I request a Freddie Andersen blurb? About him flying in with you to bc to meet your family? Thanks 😊 

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for and that you like it. 

Also using prompt: What Do You Think You Are Doing from @cali-girl-in-heart

Characters: Freddie Anderson and Y/N 

A/N Requests Open also saw the video of Freddie and Zach Hyman on Youtube and Holy Thighs! Also, I am American and would love to go to BC but have never been and don’t really know anything about it. 

*********

“What do you think you are doing?” Y/N said. She had turned around to see Freddie packing a suitcase. 

“Packing my suitcase for the trip we are taking,” Freddie said with such a calm voice as if Y/N should know about this trip they are taking when in reality she had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Fred, what trip?” Y/N said. 

“The trip I am surprising you with now, I know you want to see your parents for this holiday and I know I only have a few days off and you wanted me to have rest but I also know you love being with your family so we are going to BC so I can meet them and we can spend the holiday with them. Surprise!” Freddie smiled his little grin at you hoping that this was a good surprise. 

Let us just say it is a good thing Freddie is a goalie and has good reflexes because the next thing he knew Y/N was flinging herself into his arms. Y/N gave Freddie a giant squeeze. 

“Thank you Freddie, this is an amazing gift and I really appreciate you being willing to travel across the country during this crazy time to meet them. It really means a lot to me but are you sure you want to do this on your limited days off, they can be a lot.”

“If they are important to you, they are important to me,” Freddie says as he leans down to give you a kiss.

******

The next morning you and Freddie are at Pearson International Airport to get onto your flight to BC. You had called your mom the night before to tell her how excited you were to see her and have her meet Freddie. While you were off in a daydream about how he would fit into your family when you felt someone grab your arm, realizing it was Freddie you relaxed as he guided you toward the gate to get on your plane. 

Normally you were not a good flyer but with Freddie, you felt comfortable and he made you feel safe and calmed your anxiety. Finally, after about six hours, you landed in BC and saw your mom waiting in the arrivals terminal. The way your mom greeted Freddie it was as if they had known each other for years as opposed to just meeting for the first time. You could only hope this would be how it went with the rest of your family. 

******

1 day later

It was now Christmas day and having Freddie there was a dream come true. Currently, you were sitting around with your family in the living room while your cousins talked about what they got for Christmas, you were leaned against Freddie and felt him squeeze you a little bit as if to reassure you he was not going anywhere. You tilted your head to look up at him and mouthed thank you to him. Being with Freddie and seeing your family on Christmas was the best gift you could ask for and you knew that there would be many more to come with Freddie by your side. 

[panticwritten]

New Taglist as of June 8, 2019

It sounds like some people on my current tag list want to be removed from it, so I’m making a new one! A list of my projects as well as the current tag list (save for those who spoke to me) will be under the cut.

Like this post if you would like to be on the new tag list. Reply to let me know if there are certain projects you do or don’t want to be tagged in. Reblog to spread around.

Please do not like this post if you don’t want to be tagged in my writing updates! I don’t want to annoy anyone and I’ll assume you want to be tagged in my posts if you hit like on this one.

Projects:

Maldrymt - Fantasy WIP! Jaks, Zach, Fin, Fantasy Jay and the rest of the Fantasy Collective all live in this universe! Magic, intrigue, and a bunch of queer dorks on several adventures involving a weird mark that blocks arcana, a shockingly exclusive club full of people who either absolutely love or absolutely hate each other, and the mysterious force that brought them all together. Theory, the first book in the No Such Thing as Coincidences is the focus of my work in this WIP right now.

The Cube Collections - Most of my writing falls into this project, which is me writing down and sharing my immersive daydreams. The Cube spans a ton of existing and original universes and this is where the OG Collective is from. Breaking Furnace, Sequence of Regrettable Happenings, Trollhunters: Subverted, A Study in Morals, Written in Blood but Not How You Might Expect, SCUBE, Gregor and the Interfering Prophet, 100 Shades Better, The In-Between Collection, and all those little snippets that take place in the Cube with Sawyer, Connor, Dominic and the rest of the gang are in this universe!

Collective AUs - This is pretty much me taking a bunch of the characters from the Cube and throwing them into different universes. There’s no way I can list all the ones I’ve thought of so I’ll just say the Harry Potter AU, Fucking Art Majors, the Superhero AU, and pretty much anything that has the characters from the Cube with no connection whatsoever to the Cube. 

‘But Sawyer!’ you may ask, ‘Doesn’t that make Maldrymt a Collective AU?’

The answer is, it doesn’t fit the criteria to be an AU project, even if it is an alternate universe ;)

Pearl-Handled Shotgun/Lady and the Tramp - This is a Supernatural OC/OC hunter/demon fic that I originally started as a co-lab with a friend of mine in high school. I’ve sent them what I have so far of this rewrite and they seem to be happy with how I’m portraying their character and the story so far so I definitely will be writing more of this.

There are a few other projects that I’ve written so little in and talked so little about that they aren’t worth giving their own mention. I might still post snippets and updates about them, though!

If you like the post and don’t make any specifications, I’ll just assume you want to be tagged in all of them!

Current main tag list:

@asinwolves @authorarsinoe @infinitelyblankpage​ @spirit-wizard-nerd @alextriestowritestuff @haileyavril @lota-author0413 @jade-island-lives

Maldrymt specific tag list:

@the-real-rg @ecritblr @hannahs-creations

[dbhilluminate]

DBHI: Redemption- "The Open Door", pt. 1

ARE YOU A FAN OF DETROIT? DO YOU LIKE GAY SHIPS AND COMPLICATED, LOVEABLE BOYS?? Then please keep up with our fic, you’ll love it, I promise!

Co-authored by grayorca15

Characters: Trevor Langley, Dennis Lenore, Nick Lenore, Dahlia Fleur, Rhea Fleur, Dylan Fleur, Ethan Fleur, Isaiah Fleur (mentions of Richard Fleur, Ophelia Fleur, Hank Anderson, Vivienne Lenore-Anderson, Zach, Sarah Word Count: 7,982

No matter how far you think you've fallen, there's always time to find your way back to yourself- and if you leave yourself open to change, sometimes what you need is right through the next door.

• Archive link • Chapter Index • • Related Works • Characters •

----------

July 4th, 2041 - 5:34 PM

For all intents and purposes, it was his first time in a suit in a while. 

Having taken virtually nothing of his old life with him when Archangel brought him to Detroit, he’d had nothing but the clothes on his back, which he’d thrown away as soon as he got the chance. Understanding of why, Detective Lenore had offered up one of his older suits (among other, less frequently worn items in his wardrobe) in sympathy. Not since Boston had he been in a dress jacket, loafers, and chinos- only this time, there was no watch or tie, no phone crammed into his pocket, only the one item he typically spent his nights in the company of anyway. 

It was a good thing he and Dennis were virtually the same size, even if the former had a stockier build. 

“Kid, it ain’t Homecoming, now come on. You look fine.” 

Though his tone was one of affectionate gruffness, which he treated eighty percent of those he knew with on a daily basis, now that they had actually arrived at the time to put the hand-me-downs to use, it seemed Lenore’s generosity had been left at the curb. Considering how they had met, Trevor was happy to be counted as one of those in said majority- what side he had seen and heard about when Dennis got truly angry, he wasn’t in any hurry to experience that for himself. 

Not that having to wait a few minutes longer than anticipated would warrant a baton to the teeth. 

He flicked the light off and locked up his apartment, then followed him down the hallway, fidgeting all the way with the edges of his sleeves, trying to get the just-too-large sleeve cuffs to sit comfortably in the cuffs of the blazer. 

“It’s only a dinner, not your funeral,” Dennis scoffed, eyeing him top to bottom. “I mean- points for wanting to look nice, first time meetin’ the family and all, but you’ll be wishing you had picked somethin’ more casual before the night’s over.”

“But it is just that, the first time,” Trev pointed out as they found the central stairwell and descended. “Aren’t you supposed to- look good?”

“Looks aren’t everything,” he sighed, passing the cubicle of dormitory mailboxes at the foot of the stairs, then came to a stop. 

Uncertainly, his intended guest did the same next to him, belatedly folding his hands behind his back. Their eyes met. With his aqua blue irises, red hair and bold, expressive eyebrows, it didn’t take much for Lenore to pull off maximum exasperation with minimal effort.

“I know you spend your days shut up in here between classes. But do you think, for one night, you can try to relax? I wouldn’t bring you along if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

Trev smiled, albeit uneasily. It was a vote of confidence, however indirect, the only kind he seemed to be catching from anyone these days. Though training to become an Archangel Officer, his was an unusual circumstance, which rubbed some people the wrong way- the special privilege of shadowing active duty officers only extended to him as a formality, being a formerly active (and certified) member of BCPD’s Police force. He didn't fit the usual definition of a cadet at the academy by any measure, in fact there was no reason he really needed to. But for an institution founded only two years prior and still working to establish its own standard of ‘normalcy’, putting him through their version of the academy made logical sense, even if it labeled him an oddity. 

By that standard, Detective Dennis Lenore was just as odd, as were the rest of Zion’s residents. This was a community of oddballs, at their most fundamental.

“Well? You gonna stand there smilin’ like you’ve got gas, or is that a yes?”

Called out for daydreaming his way toward an answer, Trev blinked and cleared his throat. “Yes. S-sir.” He could handle a dinner without falling to pieces. It would hardly be the worst thing he had ever been through.

*  *  *

Traffic only delayed them so long. Even with the festivities due to begin at sundown, most of the city’s business districts were closed to observe the holiday. With that initial rush passed, the streets had cleared; the many parks and backyards of Detroit were another story. Those people out shopping had done so earlier in the day, whereas now they were enjoying the afternoon with family and friends.

But tonight they wouldn’t be staying in the city. Trevor didn’t plan on it being an overnight event, but he couldn’t account for the plans of those he hadn’t yet met. Loaded with money as the Fleurs were, their private countryside estate probably wasn’t short a guest bedroom or two; and seeing as he was dating one of said prestigious family’s daughters, Dennis likely didn’t have any qualms about staying if the evening took such a turn. Either way, Trev was perfectly capable of arranging a taxi ride back to his dorm, which wasn’t a bad idea.

The moment he sat down and buckled in, he bookmarked the service for later, but out of the corner of his eye, Dennis caught him at it.

“We haven’t even gotten goin’.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Cheeks flushing, Trev glanced away.

The cab pulled away from the curb and merged with the flow, the automated dash giving a chime and automatically bringing up a selection of soft classical background music. Dennis banished it from existence with one swipe at the volume bar and a slight curl of his lip. 

“Sorry, I know you’re jittery, it’s just-...” he paused to clench his teeth and furrow his brow a twitch. “Why you already expecting to have to need that?”

Hands folded in his lap, knees brought together, Trev made an attempt at clearing his throat. “No- no reason, sir. I was only trying to plan ahead.”

“I already said I’d make sure you got home. Was there something else? You gotta be back sooner, or…?”

It wasn’t his tone- despite the initial gruffness, Dennis had one of those sharp yet tactful voices. Where he initially sounded irritated and gravelly he almost always followed it up with some kind of concern to take the hostile edge off. Tiresome as it was to keep up with telling which was which, at least he was consistent, definable, and not a bad guy overall. Five months after Boston, Trev was still trying to figure out how much of those qualities he had yet to embody. 

“No, sir, I was only…” Sheepishly, he swiped the open app aside and turned his attention out the window. “I should have done it before we left.”

Affecting an eye roll but no other visible annoyance, Dennis sat back in his seat, hooking an ankle over his knee in the process. Being of shorter stature, he had legroom to spare. “You’ll be fine. I’m not bringin’ you along to this shindig to be the main course.”

Shindig. The term bore looking up. Defined as a lively celebration as defined back in the 1920s, it was very retro to use in conversation. Trev immediately sank back in his seat. 

“Please tell me there isn’t dancing involved.”

“No promises.” Neither too dismissive or reassuring, Dennis raised an eyebrow, pausing to seemingly reconsider his companion’s attire once more. “You’re dressed for it if there is… but haven’t you been to a barbecue before?”

A flurry of related memories besieged Trev at the reminder. Tactfully ignoring them, he looked down at his hands. “No.”

“...Are you gonna stick with single-worded answers all night?”

“Maybe… sir.”

He had cause to. Dennis knew better than almost anyone in Zion what a mixed-up bottle of impulses Trevor Langley consisted of, none of which were his own doing. With some indeterminable exceptions, it made even the most routine small talk a chore for him; hence, why he needed so badly to get out more. Classes at the academy only kept him occupied for so long. 

Chock full of as many instabilities as any survivor of Purgatory typically bore, it wasn’t any wonder why he kept quiet to fiddle with his quarter rather than mingle with his cohort. As yet, Trev suspected Dennis was more his friend than anyone, with Vivienne Lenore a close second; but even those titles felt forced, just enough to say he wasn’t completely alone in the world, because some semblance of bonds were better than none at all.

Glancing up, Trev frowned at seeing how the dubious squint hadn’t vanished. It was still trained on him like a weapon, poised to fire. (Not the nicest example to equate it to, but for him guns were never far from his mind - for a variety of reasons.)

Trying to sideline such discouraging thoughts, he cleared his throat. “I guess… Nick is already there?”

Dennis made an affirmative hum, finally easing off on the skeptical expression a touch. “He wanted to run this fetch quest instead. I convinced him otherwise.”

Brows furrowing, Trev sat up from where he had pressed into the seat. There was no further he could get away in that direction, anyway. “Why? He wouldn’t have been a bother... if that’s what you‘re implying.”

The taller Lenore sibling’s reputation preceded him. How bothersome said brother was or wasn’t evidently didn’t factor in here, as Dennis scoffed nevertheless. “Meaning, he wouldn’t have asked you too many questions, or made you uncomfortable like I am now.”

A very perceptive response, coming from him. Trev glanced away again.

Letting it simmer a moment, Dennis explained: “Kid, it’s only because I care that I take any digs at you- not that he doesn’t care too, but anyone can see you need pryin’ to even cough up a ‘Hello’, and it isn’t Nick’s style to do that if he can see how uncomfortable you still are.”

In an ideal world, that is just the kind of person Trevor would prefer to be spending time with, if he were forced to pick between chaperones. Despite his looming stature, Nick wasn’t half as imposing as Dennis could be. Such niceties didn’t extend to both in equal measure.

“I think I’m doing okay, compared to where I was, don’t you?”

“Oh? You’re constantly wallin’ people off. Okay is a word that didn’t occur to me.”

“It hasn’t affected me that… adversely.”

“Not yet. You want to try and tell me your career won’t suffer for it in the long run?”

“All due respect, sir, I’ve already had my psych eval this week. Isn’t asking such questions now kinda defeating the point of going out to enjoy ourselves?” 

Rolling his eyes, going by the minute pause in his words, Dennis sat up and reached over to tap the frames of Langley’s glasses. “You’re still wearing these when you don’t need them. If you were actually out to forget your troubles and enjoy the night, you woulda left them at the dorm.”

Recoiling, Trev shot him a standoffish glower. The cab was too small a space for his liking all of a sudden. How Dennis could essentially take one look at him and figure all these confused signals out was even less appealing. But then, Detective Lenore was known for that; if he hadn’t been a cop, psychologist wasn’t too far off, given his upbringing.

“You don’t know that. I enjoy myself without any hints blatantly on display, sir.”

“That’s a crock of shit, and you know it,” Dennis challenged. “Shut up in a room for hours on end focused only on studyin’ isn’t healthy, Langley. You gotta get out and live a bit. Dealing with Nick taught me all about that. Grateful or not, I suppose there’ll be time enough afterward for you to thank me later.”

Shuttling itself through the traffic as smoothly as a figure skater, the taxi took them past the last few commercial blocks and into a rundown suburb sitting on the Detroit-Warren limits, a quaint neighborhood of working-class families living well off the combined metropolis to either side. The Fleurs were apparently cut from the same cloth, even if they made upwards of twenty million each year, and they weren’t averse to entertaining visitors. Said destination was still forty minutes away, going by the timer on the taxi’s dashboard: the estate on the northern shore of Lake St. Claire may as well have been another city unto itself, with how far off it seemed. 

There would be his first round of lessons in learning how to let go and just be lax for a spell. He was overcomplicating this in his own head, but if Dennis really understood anything about him, he knew just how tough a habit that would be to break. One dinner wasn’t going to miraculously change him, or so he surmised, but who knew? Maybe a stint outside of Zion would do him good. Surrounded by another crowd of near-strangers with entirely normal expectations of him could be just what the doctor ordered. 

Or it could be exactly what he didn’t need to be reminded of. This constant wallowing in between hadn’t been pleasant on the whole. Without something to sway him one way or another, how else was he going to figure out what he ultimately preferred? Dennis Lenore had had more than a few years to figure himself out, so it was easy for him to say what Trevor did or didn’t need. He had experience and perspective to call on, perks of being an older model and all.

Lucky him.

*  *  *

Sitting atop a hill on a thousand acres of southeastern Michigan woodland, with its southernmost edge reaching right down to the beach, the mansion itself wasn’t visible from the road. After being buzzed through the front gate it was still a two minute journey up the cobblestone driveway. Framed by thick-trunked oak trees, rectangular hedges and multicolored flowerbeds, the ornate, ivory structure was eventually revealed, facing an adjacent parking garage no less grand and steepled. 

The bay doors of the garage stood open, lights on, spotlighting the four vintage automobiles neatly lined up within. The Detroit taxi idling looked so boxy and very not-sleek compared to the likes of all American muscle- a black 1969 Ford Mustang, a pearlescent yellow 2001 C5 Z06 Chevy Corvette, a purple and black 1970 Plymouth Fury, and a cherry red 1968 Dodge Charger had been pulled out and put on display for guests to admire. 

They seemed right at home next to the lavish mansion, which vaguely resembled a state capitol building or a downsized museum without its signature dome. East and west wings stretched open to either side at a one-hundred and thirty-degree angle, banister flags draped from every windowsill. Footpaths wound off to snake around the estate, trailing off into various gardens and parts of the woods, leading to other much smaller structures and cabanas spread across the property. 

The main entrance was a hike at least twenty steps high to a landing midway up, then to a summit guarded by two pedestals framed by half a dozen stone vases full of flowers. It was in peak summertime bloom, greenery everywhere and no gray urban confines in sight, besides the cars on display. The air was thick with the smell of them mixed with fresh cut grass after a cleansing rain, but one whiff confirmed there was more on the wind tonight than natural aromas.  There was also the smoky, husky smell of meat simmering on a grill. 

As soon as the cab door slid open, Trev hesitated to step out. The last time he had cause to smell burning anything was back in Boston. 

-the horrifying sight of every other building along the avenue aflame, screams emanating from within, no fire department on its way to save the day, but all he could do was run-

“Kid, move.”

One little prodding nudge at his shoulder drew a flinch out of him, and he hurriedly stepped out of the cab in the intended direction while avoiding meeting Dennis’ eyes.

“What’s the matter? You look like…” Circling to look at him, Lenore trailed off. He knew the rabbit-eyed expression and what it signified. Reading the muted silence as what it was, he patted Trev’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’ll make the introductions, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbled half-heartedly. Even if Dennis was used to it to the point he didn’t care either way, adding the honorific always served to keep authority figures mollified. He was more of a guide than a friend, so it wasn���t unreasonable - the first time they met, he’d promptly knocked Trevor’s lights out; for his own good, of course. Kind of like now- dragging him along to this get-together, never minding the reluctance or snippiness; it was for his own good. 

He was never violent or forceful without reason; dealing with his so-called brother, who was described by most to be as skittish as a deer caught in headlights, had helped him hone it. And now here was Trevor, testing him in all sorts of ways similar yet unfamiliar. As mentor and understudy, they fit together fantastically.

Trekking up the steps, he fell in behind and beside the off-duty detective, taking a second to appreciate his more casual wear of jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie. It made the burgundy suit and loafers feel even more unnecessary, even if it made him look classier and more put-together on the outside, despite the mess inside.

The person to answer the door before Dennis had even lifted his finger from the buzzer didn’t read much into it either way. He was simply happy to see them, as evidenced by the unabashed group hug he greeted both of them with, knocking Trevor’s glasses askew. 

“H-hi, Dr. Lenore,” he stammered, managing to duck out from under his arm first

“Oh, come on, Trev. Not you, too.” Unwinding one long arm to recapture the new visitor, he frowned as Langley stepped aside and out of range. Nicholas Lenore wasn’t half as formal as his name would suggest, though part of that was his looks, which were all gangly and sloped in ways Dennis’ weren’t. The other half of the reasoning was the insistence that followed. “You can call me Nick, same as everyone else, remember?”

Though he was one of Zion’s best-qualified physicians, when he wasn’t tending to a patient his behavior was more akin to that of an excitable ten-year-old boy: all optimistic and well meaning, with no attitude to spoil it. Incongruous didn’t begin to describe him as a whole.

“I did. I-I just…” Not quite sure if he should finish that thought, Trevor blinked and shifted his gaze aside. “You startled us, is all.”

“Speak for yourself, Langley,” Dennis muttered, face half-squashed, still pinned against the other’s jacket. “I’m used to this sorta thing.”

“I didn’t mean to, sorry.” Nick apologized the moment he remembered, let go of his brother and steered them inside to close the door. “It’s good to see you both. Everyone else is busy talking or cooking, so I thought I’d make myself useful and play doorman for a bit.”

“Nice of you,” Dennis commented airily as he rolled his shoulder and stretched it. “God- you really need a warning label for those damn hugs, though. All these years, you think I’d have realized it sooner and slapped one on the back of your head.”

Assuming he didn’t need a ladder to reach it.

“No I don’t, I’m careful every time!”

“Sure, careful not to completely and permanently dent someone.”

Leaving them to their banter for a moment, Trev stole a look around the foyer. A big, spectacular ballroom painted in soft browns and shades of ivory, red, and gold, housed a golden grand chandelier and a mosaic marble floor which stretched the length of the space several hundred feet across the room to the foot of a centralized staircase leading up to the second-floor wings. To the left, halfway into the room, sat a sharp black grand piano beside a few free-standing planters filled with flowers and creeping ferns on either side, and a chaise lounge to the left of it. A few oil portraits hung on the front and sidewalls, and at the top of the stairs, assumed commissioned works so lifelike he could tell who the people featured were without introductions being needed. Wherever the flesh-and-blood Fleurs presently were, they weren’t within sight. 

Or so he thought. 

Movement caught his eye. The door was so far away, Trevor almost missed it, as Nick and Dennis seemed to have- but two doors down from the top of the staircase to the right, a figure reached out through the illuminated cracked door and quietly pulled it shut; instead of a face, all he glimpsed was a tattooed wrist. It appeared someone else here was as disinterested in the event as he was. Not given free reign to wander just yet, he set curiosity aside and drifted after his escorts.

“-favor, and don’t go out of your way to confuse him, got it?” Dennis scolded, around the same time Trevor opted to start listening again. It went without saying who the ‘him’ in the statement was.

“Confuse, how?” Confirming the assumption, Nick tossed him a very overt glance. He always looked so unintentionally aloof, with those mismatched green-brown eyes, pitchy voice, and slightly-knotted chestnut hair. “I don’t do it on purpose… and Trevor’s smart enough to figure it out if in the event I do.”

“Sure, I know lots of words with three syllables, minimum,” Trev played along, shrugging with a self-deprecating smile. Even if their argument wasn’t exactly serious, it would only help to clarify what his boundaries and possible triggers were. “But it’s not that kind of confused he’s talking about, Doctor.”

“Oh, right.” Nick only responded with an absent blink. Physicians were inherently prone to speaking with a certain over-eloquence, using big words without meaning to, making those around them feel either dumbed down or alienated or both. Being forever mindful he wasn’t stepping on toes or offending anyone (and constantly worrying for the welfare of those around him), Nick stopped them from proceeding on through to the dining room to offer a last bit of encouragement. 

“Well, that said- if you feel too bothered by any of this, let us know. No one expects you to stay if you don’t want to.”

Trev nodded. He shouldn’t need this much coaching to make a few simple meetings, but it was always better to take time for a little extra prep work, lest something short circuit.

——

“He doesn’t look like an android, though...”

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t, right? The whole point is, you can’t know just from looking at someone.”

“But he’s studying at Archangel? Humans don’t enroll there, but if they ever did, I’d-”

“Boys, please. You’ve barely said hello back and now you’re on to this. Give him some breathing room.”

Trev stood back from the dining table-turned-buffet and glanced over the edge of his drink in silent gratitude as Dennis ran interference, shepherding the gawkers out of his presence. The youngest members of the Fleur clan, nine-year-old Ethan and seven-year-old Isaiah, weren’t so shy as to resist bombarding him with questions the moment their elders looked in the other direction. It wasn’t that they meant any harm- Trev couldn’t fault them for wanting to get close and see for themselves,  being the excitable, impressionable boys they were, but Ethan’s parting remark still stung more than he wanted to admit. 

“He looks just like Connor, too. I told you!”

“Ethan!” Dahlia squatted down and popped the boy softly on the behind as she shooed them away, reminding them that they ‘knew better’ than to say such things. While most androids had been created to look the same, the Fleurs had all been raised (since her adoption into the family) to recognize each as an individual, and not treat them as duplicates. This was easier done in the cases of Nick, Dennis, and Dahlia, who looked nothing like their default models. 

That in mind, Trev reminded himself it wasn’t the worst reveal he had ever suffered. Few things could measure up to Nicodemus shattering the human veneer Cyberlife had so painstakingly applied. Being compared to the most infamous of the RK800s was a pinprick compared to that sledgehammer.

With the exception of the two boys, the rest of the clan was proving genial enough. For being multimillionaire moguls of the music industry (responsible for finding at least ten of the current top forty artists of the past five years), they dressed almost demurely for the occasion. Richard Fleur was at least six feet of middle-aged stoic, unreserved Britishness, more personable and less stern than expected but certainly from high societal stock. His wife, Ophelia, was altogether different his polar opposite both in appearance and respective origin of South Africa. Poised and reserved in her enthusiasm for conversation, she exuded a more regal presence than her husband. His posh drawl paired nicely with her distinctive Johannesburg dialect.

Trev took a minute sip of his drink, noting neither of them had worn suits or evening gowns, but kept the observation to himself as he sat down.

“I really overdressed, didn’t I?”

“Just a little…” A flinching nod of agreement crinkled Dahlia’s nose, yet she bore a small smile in sympathy as she flipped the hem of her maxi dress out from between the heel of her foot and the heel of her shoes. 

“But it’s what you wanted, I figured better to let you have it,” Dennis explained as she moved to lean down and greet him with a kiss, then pulled out the seat to her left; his lingering smirk wasn’t sympathetic or mocking, just the result of how preoccupied he always tended to get in her presence (the joke being, making sure he wasn’t stepped on). “It’s closer to what you’re used to wearing anyway, right? Back in- the old days?”

Now there was an inappropriately appropriate way of putting it.

“Sure, similar…” Trev hated how such an otherwise innocent question called up so many mixed feelings. Out of nervous habit, he went for another sip so small he may as well have only wet his lips. Dennis knew better than to ask, but to avoid every little uncomfortable conversation would defeat the purpose of being there. Langley blinked back the nervousness as best he could and shrugged, hoping it came across as dismissive. “If anything, I feel more under-dressed in class. I don’t know if I’d call cadet duds a uniform, but…”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time disconnecting from his work. To his right, Nick had taken a moment to do some follow-up work on a tablet held in one splayed hand, but picked the conversation back up where the others failed to. “Zach hated cadet gear, too. It was too plain. We used to have to wear suits every day, company mandate.”

“Yeah, but after the revolution…? Good luck getting him to let go of it,” Dennis added, with some wry fondness. “Like a kid carryin’ around their favorite blanket- that jacket was ready to fall apart at the seams by the time Sarah peeled it off.”

After a couple years of continuous use? Trev declined to ask and swirled the contents of his glass in a gentle counterclockwise circle, knowing it was probably just exaggeration for the sake of story. 

“I don’t miss it that much. And most of the- time I was in basic patrol garb, anyway. Not like-…” Even as he veered off from saying his name, his glass-holding hand shook. As he set it down, he reached for the nearest napkin to wipe the sweat off his palm- water from the glass, nothing he actually sweated out.

Dennis’ casual smirk melted off as he watched him fidget. He knew without being told who Trev was thinking of. “You’ll get used to it. You’ve been enrolled for what, a couple months?”

“Basically.” Trev sat back in his chair so as to not be pinned between Dahlia and Nick’s curiosity. “I mean- there’s not much I don’t already know, but Detroit’s not quite on the same level Boston is with… statistics. Criminal types here don’t seem to be given to the same pursuits.”

“Has Zion treated you well, at least..?” Dahlia’s question was genuine, but naïve in the way anyone who didn’t know him would be. She had only ever met him after Boston, or Purgatory as it had been temporarily known, was brought under control. Zion was paradise compared to what he had seen there, even with its own slew of district-specific issues. Unique to him was the fact it was the best possible place he could be- everyday discrepancies notwithstanding.

“So far, yes. No one… has given me too much trouble.” None that they didn’t mean to give, anyway. Thinking twice of how that probably sounded, he tried for a mollifying smile. “The folks at the academy are agreeable enough. They’ve probably laid off the hazing because they’re not sure how I’ll take it.”

Because instabilities had to be good for something.

Dennis hummed a not-so-convinced affirmative. “Sure. That’s Langley-speak for ‘not yet, they haven’t’. Even I went through a bit of fine tuning there, Trevor. No special treatment when it comes to who gets to be the butt of a prank.”

He sounded so genial about it, Trev was inclined to doubt the claim’s validity; if it was true, Lenore was doing an admirable job of underselling his outrage. “No? What’d they end up doing to you, then?”

“Filled my locker with maple leaves.” At the two, not quite three, disbelieving glances this answer earned him, Dennis shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was supposed to make me feel at home. Montreal was that, for about a decade.”

“Sounds more like blatant stereotyping… you aren’t Canadian.”

Met with a deadpan sidelong look, Dennis scoffed. “Pft. You think it mattered to them at the time, Langley? If it did that’d defeat the whole point of a prank.”

Trev acknowledged it with a nod and another sip of his drink, realizing how painfully literal his thought processes could sometimes be. The blue substance didn’t have much flavor aside from a refreshing coolness as it went down. If he ignored what it was, it didn’t look like he was drinking antifreeze.

Music, laughter, and voices drifted in from the open patio doors. Adjacent to the dining room was the gathering space where most of the estate’s visitors had congregated, Viv and Hank among them. There was where the smells of grilling and sizzling were most prominent. At a guess the gathering was approximately three-quarters humans to one-fourth androids; and at the moment, it seemed all those confirmed as such were seated at this table. Lopping himself in under that category, Trev pursed his lips and set the glass down once again. The little daily reminders of his old life were everywhere he looked, and he didn’t need them as much as he did. A couple months in protective custody under observation hadn’t assuaged them- if anything he missed the certainty, false as it was. Now he had nothing but uncertainty, and the constant wear of it was chafing something fierce.

Aaaand five bucks says Nick is staring so hard, he’s trying to burn holes in the side of my head.

As he glanced aside he caught just the barest hint of motion from the taller android, whose focus immediately shifted back to the tablet. Trev knew an aborted look when he saw one, enhanced reaction times or not.

“What about that, Dahlia?” he asked, trying again for impartial dialogue in the face of all his skittishness. “Is your family the wild type, or is that just the two boys?”

“Three,” she corrected with a small hint of a smile and a quiet exhale through her nose. “You’ll have to watch out for Dylan, too, if he ever comes out of his studio...” 

The sighing and eye-rolling was contagious- not so much uttered in distaste as much as in disappointment. Nick shrunk down in his seat a hair at the mention of the boy’s name, but perked up as Rhea (having just come in from the patio) placed an understanding hand on his shoulder. 

“I doubt we’ll see him today, it’s been a long time since he’s shown his face at any social gatherings.”

“Then what do you call him picking on us?” Nick whined as she sat down beside him and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Jealousy,” she replied with a quiet smile. “He had my full attention before you came along.”

Trev looked from one pair to the other and considered his newfound stance between them. He deduced out the whys in short order, decidedly ignoring the outdated examples in his own head claiming to know what it was to have siblings. He glanced back toward the crowded patio as he considered this new information. So he wasn’t the only one present who had an aversion to crowds. But didn’t groups make the most rewarding prank targets? To incite the most amount of mayhem in the least amount of time?

“Well, jealous or no, he can keep to himself if it so suits him. I’m not out to steal any of his remaining siblings away.”

Dennis scoffed, but it was half a laugh. “Don’t assume that means you’re safe. Any reason to hit you with inanimate objects is a good one,” he explained, presumably recalling the few times he’d been assaulted with nerf darts and paintballs the very moment he’d walked through the door. 

“Isaiah told me about this time they folded enough paper airplanes to launch off an aircraft carrier and take over Taiwan. Once the snow went away, Ethan wanted to do his homework outside, but after giving Izzie enough grief they decided he wouldn’t be able to finish it in peace- whatever window he sat under, at least three found their way into his lap.”

How dastardly. 

Trev took another not-sip with only the tiniest of eye rolls. Nonchalance should have been his reaction of choice from the start. “He sounds very… conniving.”

“Impish is a better word for it.”

“A conniving imp, then. One quality serves to define the other.”

It certainly explained the closing door, and if that was the bare minimum of rebelliousness they could expect to see tonight, that was more than tolerable.

“So… if he’s a no-show, when are you gonna put the nerves aside and go mingle?” Dennis propped an elbow up on the table as he nodded toward the patio and leaned a cheek against his curled fist. “You can’t nurse one drink all evening.”

Watch me. 

Meeting his arched eyebrow with one of his own, Trev went for the next question on the proverbial checklist. “When did you all meet? I mean, I know that’s a lot of origin stories, but where did it start?”

“When Dahlia broadsided me with a door,” he recalled without reservation, to her complete and utter mortification. “I deserved it, being the stoolie dumbass standing where I was.”

The redhead immediately flushed bright red and buried her face in Dennis’ shoulder with an embarrassed laugh. “It was an accident! I didn’t expect you to be standing there…” 

And so went their storytelling, fondly recounting how one chance run-in at the Motown Lounge led to this happy, steady state of affairs for them. Past a certain point Trev only listened half heartedly, their enthusiasm just a little too much for him to stomach. 

New noise caught his hypersensitive ear again from atop the stairs- as the door creaked open, a shadowy figure moved from the studio two doors down the hall and shut it behind him. The only one who seemed to notice aside from Trevor was Dennis, blue eyes darting in the direction of the click some four hundred feet, one floor and a few rooms across the mansion, before looking back at Dahlia.

As both of them fell quiet and no one opted to keep up that line of thought, Nick sighed and put the tablet down, circling back to the elephant still in the room. Perhaps he had noticed after all. 

“He doesn’t need to keep acting all jealous. We’re easy enough to get along with, and his paintings are nice.”

“Oh? You been spyin’ on him?” Dennis teased, even as Trev frowned and raised his eyeline to the impassive ceiling. “You’ve spent a lot of hours with your back turned at that piano. Risky business.”

Nick shook his head, failing to see the humor in such a comment, too caught up worrying over what could be done to ingratiate themselves. He didn’t cope very well with thoughts of being at odds with anybody: family, friend, and certainly not foe. No wonder he had stayed as far away from Boston as physically possible.

Trev traced a fingertip over the rim of the glass in contemplative gesture. Apparently the missing link fancies themselves a painter. The minute beads of sweat, smeared and not, stood out like little crystalline glints of ice. Chilled thirium wasn’t meant to grow warm any more than fidgety Dr. Lenore had business in a city under siege.

“Not so risky- it sounds like they’re both of the artistic persuasion… just different instruments.” Hooking a fingernail on the rim, he pressed and noted how it didn’t bend back, then rolled his eyes. The urge to self-pity out loud hit hard and he went for a small dose of it.

“But I don’t know him, hardly better than I know any of you. Must be nice to hold such… easy company.”

Rhea had had her eye on Trev from the moment she walked into the room. All of the nuances in his body language -the subtle fidgeting, the way he averted his eyes, hiding behind the frames, and kept his jaw tight with lips thinly drawn, the crease in his forehead from pressed brows- and the way he avoided talking about himself by asking questions just to divert the topic, were enough to express to most that he was visibly uncomfortable. But being the observant and experienced counselor she was, she could probably tell this was more than just surface tension. 

“It comes in time with conscious effort,” she offered with a sympathetic smile, stealing a glance aside to Nick and lifting a hand to thread into his hair and scratch at the back of his head. “I had to really fight for this one’s attention… didn’t want anything much to do with me when we first met.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” he protested with a huff, Rhea’s head rolling back with a smile and focusing her gaze on the ceiling momentarily. When she didn’t immediately refute him, he uncertainly amended, “I was just… nervous.”

“So nervous you turned me down every opportunity you were given, even when things were still platonic,” she teased with a pop of her brows and a smirk. “But… the point is this.” Rhea focused her honey brown eyes on Trev across the table. “Familiarity is cultivated- we didn’t click the moment we met. It might look easy now, but we had a rough start getting here. So give yourself time, and leave the door open- you’ll find that easy company soon enough.” 

She meant well, saying such things. Trev would have liked to listen and believe it in equal measure, but even the concept of basic familiarity didn’t really apply. It wasn’t a straight line between points. It was a snaking twisting route that doubled back on itself and wound around in ways these four had no conceivable idea of (or so he thought). None of them could know, was the worst part.

“Sure.” Trev glanced sidelong toward the patio, leaving his response as one clipped word. The music drifting in was an assortment of classic rock that he could kill a few seconds trying to put a name with the lyrics with.

Dennis gave a hmph of agreement, counterpointing her advice nicely. “You wouldn’t be the first one who took his time about it, kid. But you know you’ve got friends here, no matter what the academy throws at you, right?”

As close as they could be, anyway.

Pegging the musician as the late Bruce Springsteen, Trev bit the inside of one cheek. A bit of insight wasn’t horrible to hear, but if this was the part where he thought laying it on thick was a good idea, Lenore could drop it. This wasn’t meant to be an interrogation posing as small talk.

“The academy hasn’t been so bad compared to… this.” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings, then reached for the glass again as the hurt, defensive expressions painted their faces one by one. Once it was empty, he could politely excuse himself for a refill. 

“This just isn’t my kind of familiar. Here is-… there aren’t-…” The thought fizzled into nothing as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop, and he muttered his last thought under his breath, useless as it was considering these were androids listening to him. “Bugger it. You have your normal and I have mine.”

Dennis knocked a foot against the leg of his chair. “Hey. Don’t get all sour on us now. We’re only trying to help, not bust your balls.”

Trev drained what was left of the blue substance and breathed out through his nose to cover the loud swallow. “I appreciate the disclaimer. Really. But I seem to have run out of refreshments, so if it’s all the same, I'll help myself to another.”

Even that much called up an unpleasant phantom of a memory.

-drinks with the squad after the successful closure of a half dozen interlinked cases, narcotics off the streets, justice for the dead almost a gimme- 

He scooted his chair back out of the focal point between the two couples, and instantly felt less claustrophobic for it. Trev started to move away from the table but reached back and grabbed the glass he’d almost forgotten, decidedly avoiding any of their eyes and ignoring whatever protests they tried to voice.

Not even five steps out of the dining room on his way to the kitchen, a foam dart with a rubber tip pelted him in the side of the head. The flinch it drew brought him to a temporary stop. From behind a potted plant near the grand piano to his left, Ethan giggled and sprinted across the room and up the stairs, darting down the west wing, presumably toward his bedroom, before Trev could retaliate. The bright orange-yellow nerf pistol in his hand instantly marked him as the culprit. Compared to the last bullet that had hit him, this was no great insult to suffer; it was tolerable next to the nitpicking, well-meaning offers of help he was being pincered between just a minute earlier.

Trev stopped to pick up the toy dart and dropped it into the empty glass to set both items aside on an end table, then looked up at the steps and all the wings they could lead to. It was a tempting place to get lost- he could wander the halls for a spell, see what there was to behold, maybe glimpse some of that art Nick mentioned. If Ethan Fleur wanted to take repeated potshots at him only to scurry off, at least his awkward presence would provide amusement for somebody’s sake. Better that than to be put on the spot and start confronting the first mixed-up impulses about himself amidst the company of an impromptu therapy group. That was the kind of soap opera tripe irate inner monologues were better suited to.

‘Help’. They can help me. What do they know? It’s all just conjecture and secondhand accounts. None of them were there, they couldn’t know what it was like before, they don’t know what it’s like now. They shouldn’t bother themselves with trying to understand. I’m not broke, I’m just - resetting.

Even thinking it made his insides churn. Knowing now that it wasn’t anything like indigestion or an empty gut causing such sensations, it only served to make him walk faster, just to get moving and try to forget again.

His once-clear HUD filled with a few cursory warnings, reacting in time with the pique in stress, but he blinked and shook his head once to abolish them. Trev mounted the stairs in several precise steps, steadfastly marching up to the next landing with intent. So what if this area wasn’t for guests to wander off to? It ‘s not like he was planning on swiping anything. He was a cop in a past life, and that wasn’t just hyperbole or metaphorical comparisons at work. He wasn’t some side-show company project, he didn’t need to be set straight simply for having been shown different; he just had to deal, but he would do so at his own pace. He didn’t need any follow-along lessons to help the transition, he only needed space- closed, simple, quiet space, without anyone in it.

“Oh, yes, gorgeous little android-centric district you have going on here. Me? You say I need answers to my jacked-up life? ‘No worries! Welcome to Zion. We’ve got more than enough lived-in personalities offering sage, tried-and-true advice to help you out. Just gotta give us a chance’.” Like a tacky sales pitch at a used car lot. Wasn’t what I was already doing called living? In some form, if not how they knew it? Know it? I wasn’t bunking in any fancy mansion nibbling on crepes while the rest of the world tried to sort out its own problems because machines had to go and get all uppity over not being allowed their full potential. Yeah, well, what good does potential do you when you don’t even know it’s a… thing?

Walking on autopilot, without necessarily looking where he was going, Trev only slowed down at the top of the staircase to turn the corner to the east wing. The cracked marble columns and wood-paneled walls overlooked a tasteful beige runner on the same mosaic tiled floor, accented only by a few more ferns on pedestals standing sentry outside of closed bedroom doors. Windows lined the furthest wall, opening up to the greenhouse at the mansion’s back. 

But he paid all of it no mind for longer than a fraction of a second, too taken aback by the painted likeness of Dahlia Fleur looking down on him from his left, just outside the curiously open door. The dimensions of the canvas scrawled across his eyes on automatic- rendered in traditional oil pigments, whomever had captured her likeness didn’t simply copy it. The brush strokes, invisible to human eyes, struck him as even and smooth, with no unsightly pause marks or remnants of gopey residue. Her freckled skin was only slightly bronzed for effect, complementing the cool background and the emerald green gown she wore. Gazing sidelong over her bare shoulder, expression sedate yet slightly coy, fingers lifted to rest on her chin as if poised in thought, her lengthy crimson locks of hair had been loosed from whatever binds that once might have held them back.

It was quite the exquisite portrait for what most human owners might have only seen, at one time, as a serving classic domestic android.

Staring at her perhaps a bit too long, Trev didn’t see the rubber band before it bounced off his temple, nor the shadow just out of the corner of his vision that had sent it flailing his way. 

Speak the devil’s name, and he shall appear.

“Hey, wiseguy- quit eyeballin’ my sister.”

[netflixmomma516]

Her Secrets Part 3 - 13RW Series

Part 1    Part 2

I woke up to the sun shining in my room, my alarm going off in my ear. I opened one eye and hit off. I roll my eyes and check my social media. Nothing.

I turned on my Spotify, then walk into my closet and find something to wear. I quickly straighten my wavy brown hair and replace my glasses with contacts. I yawn not wanting to be up right now. I decided on no makeup for the day, due to how tired I am.

I'm still thinking about the after party everyone is talking about, it would probably be fun, but that's one of the causes for me to move here.

I shuffle down the stairs and see my dad in his nice clothes for work. "Good morning," he says cheerily. I half smile and grab my breakfast. "So what are your plans for the night?" He asks curiously. "Well, there's a basketball game and a party tonight so that." "Okay, I'm glad you're fitting in here." He says looking like he's about to cry. I smile as I roll my eyes and hug him. "Bye dad," I grab my keys off the counter and walk out to my car.

-

The first person I saw when I walked into school was Jeff. I couldn't help but smile at him. He walks over to me and hugs me. "Hey." "Hey," I said back. "So about that after party.." Jeff started. "I'm going on one condition," I smile up at the giant brunette with beautiful brown eyes. "What?" He gave me a little smirk. "If you don't let anything happen to me," I shake off the memory of the last party I went too. "Of course, just think of me as your personal bodyguard." Jeff smiles at me. I couldn't help but smile back at the response.

I knew he would protect me tonight. "Okay, then I'll go," I smile at him. "Awesome. We're still on for tomorrow too, right?" He asks with hopeful eyes. "Of course we are," I smile. "Awesome." "Well I'm going to go to class I'll see you later," I tell him. "Okay," He hugs me and I walk away. Butterflies flying like crazy in my stomach.

I get about 10 feet from my locker and my feet stop, I see a sight that I didn't know if I wanted to see; Scott leaned up against his locker talking to Chloe. My heart dropped when I saw her smiling up at him, I can tell in her eyes, she wants him back. He confessed they dated for a couple months, a couple months ago. 

-

"So what's the deal with Chloe and you?" I ask rather bluntly. "What do mean?" Scott asks as he sits down next to me. "I mean, I can tell Chloe has some kind of hold on you." He looks down at his stretched out legs, "well we did date, we broke up not too long ago." He admits.

-

I find the strength to keep walking and I finally reach my locker and I do the combination. "Hey YNN," Chloe says. I fake a smile at her. I knew there was something bitchy about her.

"Well I'm going to class babe," she tells Scott. He smiles at her, "okay bye." Wow no cute nicknames for her; surprising. I put my stuff in my locker, "hey." He says to me. I mentally roll my eyes. "Hi," I keep short. "What's wrong?" He asked. I couldn't tell him I was jealous of the fact that Chloe called him babe.

"Nothing." I smiled at him. It was a fake smile, but a smile nonetheless. "Okay good. So did you decided on after parties after the game?" "Yeah. I'm going." I told him with a smile, thinking back to Jeff's and mines conversation 3 minutes prior. "Cool." "Well we better get going or we'll be late." He smiled and followed me to 1st period.

The whole first and second period I couldn't help but think about Scott and Chloe. I do like Jeff, but I also find myself falling for Scott too.

I walk into Government and see Jeff smiling at me. I smile back. I love his little smile. I make my way to my seat next to his. "Hey," He said. "Hey." I instantly smile at him. "How are you?" Him trying to make small talk. "Good." I smile at his lame attempt.

--

The day went by fast. I got home and did the little homework I had for the weekend. I couldn't quite keep concentration though; daydreams about Jeff and Scott take over my little mind.

I look down at my growing stomach, "We'll be okay bugs." I whisper. Emotions overtake my body and I start crying. The last month, everything has changed. EVERYTHING.

I was once a regular 18-year-old senior, with an amazing boyfriend, a mom who didn't really give me rules, because she was never home, awesome friends. I'm just worried people will find out my secret. People will figure out why I moved. HE will find me.

My head starts hurting thinking about everything. I lay down and close my eyes, hands on my growing baby. "I won't let anything ever happen to you." Sleep overtakes my body. -

DREAM Jeff and I are at the lake, "So YNN I really like you." I smile at Jeff and I confess, "I like you too." "But what about me?" Scott appears from behind us. "What about you Scott?" Jeff asks him. "You know I called first dibs," Scott answered Jeff. "Dibs?" I chimed in. "I'm not a trophy you win when you win a basketball game," I say angrily. "Scott just leave, this is my date," Jeff says. "I don't want to unless YNN tells me." "YNN tell him to leave." "YNN!" "YN!"

-

"YNN... YNN..." I fell my body shaking. I shoot my eyes open to see my dad shaking body. "It's 7, the game starts in a half hour." "Crap, thanks, dad." He walks out of my room to let me get ready. I change into simple skinny jeans, that I love that I can still fit into. I pull over a sweatshirt over my gray t-shirt. I run a brush through my hair and brush my teeth. I apply very natural makeup. I look at the time, and I have 15 minutes to get to the game.

I run down the stairs, deciding on my black flip flops since they are easy to put on, "Bye dad!" I yell. "Bye YNN be careful!" He calls back. I get into my car and drive the 15 minutes to school.

--

The stands are packed, and the game has already started. Thankfully it just started like 2 minutes ago. 

Jess; Up here! 

I look up to see her waving. I smile and walk up the bleachers. "YNN, I didn't think you were coming." She said hugging me. "I fell asleep and forgot to set my alarm, my dad woke me up." I laughed. "Well it just started and your boy Jeff already made a hit." I smile as I roll my eyes. "He's not my boy." I laugh at her, "Uh-huh, whatever you say." I smile at her and look to see Jeff and Scott on the field. I smile at both of the handsome boys on the baseball field.

--

We ended up winning with Jeff scoring a total of 10 points. I couldn't help but feel so proud of this guy.

"Let's go outside to my car and wait for the guys," Jess suggested. "Okay." I smiled at her and we walked from stands the chilly late-February air hitting my bare toes. "Dang, it's chilly." "My car is right over here." I follow her to a range rover. Of course, she has a nice car, I feel like this school is filled with nothing but rich kids, nothing against Jess because I like her. I climbed into the front seat and turned my butt warmer on.

"So what is really going on between you, Jeff, and Scott?" She asked throwing me off guard. I took a deep breath, "I like Jeff a lot, the last couple days we've really gotten to know each other and Scott seems really cool too, but I'm pretty sure Chloe and him are getting back together." I look down at my phone, trying to get my mind off of Chloe and Scott.

"First off I've known both of them since I moved here, and they are both incredibly nice guys. Jeff would treat you like a princess and Scott honestly would probably just spoil you with gifts. At least that's what he did with Chloe. Chloe wanted to be treated like a princess not just spoiled like one, and I can tell you Chloe is just jealous because Scott is moving on. Scott has been fixated on Chloe since the 5th grade, and she loved that she had Scott wrapped around her finger like that."

My phone starts blowing up with a call from Jeff, "Hey." I answer with a smile that could brighten anyone's gloomy day. "Hey, where are you and Jess?" Jeff asks, "sitting in her car." I laugh. "Oh well, we're done if you want to come here and talk for a second." "He wants us to come out there and meet him," I tell Jessica. She rolls her eyes, "Okay." "Okay, we'll be out there in a second," I tell him. "Okay." I could hear his smile in his voice.

"But YNN, they're both great guys, you can choose whichever one you think is going to be good for you and your baby." I shake my head, "What did you say?" "Whichever one you think is going to be good for you." "Oh okay." I smile at her. I shake off the feeling, no one knows.

We get out of the warm range over into the chilly air again. 

"Hey YNN," Jeff and Scott said in unison. I smile at both of them, "Hey guys, good game." I was truly impressed with their talent. "So I think people are going over there now," Scott told Jeff, I'm assuming they're talking about the party tonight. 

I get an uneasy feeling. I cross my arms over my body, one because I'm cold and two because I'm scared about this party. Jeff noticed my shift in demeanor, "Cold?" He asked. I shake my head yes. "Alright let's go, YNN you can ride with me and Scott." Oh great, riding with my two crushes this shouldn't be weird. 

"Jess you can ride with Justin and Zach." We all smile at the plan, "I can drive." I tell them. "Okay." Scott and Jeff said. So we start walking over to my silver Mazda 6. "Shotgun!" Scott called out. I roll my eyes as I enter the driver's side.

"It's at Garrett's house." Jeff said, "I'll show her the way." Scott said from the passenger side. "Okay." Jeff simply replied.

"So I pull out of the parking lot over there," Scott pointing to the nearest exit, "and take a right." I do exactly what Scott told me to do and we're on the road. "At this stop sign turn left." He continued telling me the directions to this guys house. I look in my rear view mirror at Jeff, who is looking out the window. He doesn't seem like himself tonight. I'll talk to him at the party, he'll tell me.

10 more minutes of driving we arrive at the house where a party was going on in full swing. Jeff and Scott both get out and I put my hands on my stomach. 

"Coming YNN?" Jeff asked from outside the car. I smile, and open the door, and walk out to the chilly February air. Jeff and Scott are waiting for me along with Jess, Justin, and Zach. We walk into the house and I'm immediately bombarded by the smell of alcohol which baby doesn't seem to like, I start gagging. I run outside and I threw up in the grass. Jeff follows concerned, "what's wrong?" I pulled myself together. "Nothing I got to go." I rush to my car and quickly drive away without an explanation to anyone, not even Jeff who probably deserves it the most.

--

I pull into the driveway of my dad's house, and I see an unfamiliar car and I walk to the window, and I see a woman. They are kissing. My emotions overtake my body, and I run to my car once again. I pull out of my driveway and drive. I drive and lose control of my emotions.

I pull into a vacant parking lot, only lit up with one street light. I park under it. I can't do this anymore. I cry harder. 

How come just two months ago I was a normal 18-year-old senior in high school? I was trying to figure out what color dress I wanted for Snowball, and I was trying to juggle my relationship, my job, and school. I was a normal girl. Now I'm living with my dad in this stupid small town and I'm pregnant and trying to hide that fact from everyone here. 

-

I walk into see Sam sitting there with his group of friends. I smile at him. "YNN, what are you doing January 22nd?" Sam asked as I took my seat next to the blue-eyed boy. "Isn’t that Snowball?" I ask with a smile. "Yeah," Sam looked behind me at the board and I looked back to see what he was looking. 'YN YLN will you swing into Snowball with Samuel Norman.' I looked back at him. I smiled and hugged him. "Of course." I kissed his lips.

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Jurassic World

Summary: She was small, helpless and unable to voice her decision in the matter when Claire plucked the baby from her crib and fled Lockwood Manor without looking back. 

Can they make things work for their relationship and the two-month-old they kidnapped? Will they crack under pressure or flourish in newfound roles?

Part: 1/?

The people have spoken. I asked a twitter poll if I should just post the first chapter or work on the fic more. 63% told me to post. Here you have it. 

No one really asked for this. There were a few people on twitter who finally encouraged me to work on it and push through my guilt for not spending time on prompts. 

It is nowhere near finished so please be patient. I am so excited to share Maisie Grady with you all. I’m scared I haven’t worked out all the knots but y’all are usually pretty open-minded when I throw peculiar things at you.

As always, I want to know what you think! What’s going to happen? How’re things going to go?! Bonus love to those of you who know the title reference. 

AO3

LITTLE NUTBROWN HARE

They had escaped. The Stygimoloch travelling in the opposite direction as Claire and Owen took to the stairs. They climbed their way to the second level of the holding bay, reaching rows of glass that served to separate the lab equipment from the cells.

There were was no one. The space desolate of human life as noise seemed to cluster in a different part of the manor’s basement. Owen and Claire crept down hallways not encountering a single soul as noise ricocheted off the walls, nothing but mumbles the further they got away from it. Owen decided it was a bad idea to move towards whatever was happening. Eli Mills and Ken Wheatley had left them for dead and locked them up more than he was happy with for a 48 hour period.

She followed, the two of them silent as their boots moved across the floor. Owen picked a door to his left, leading them both into another empty lab. The air was still while she waited for him to move, the sweat on their bodies lingering under her nose as Owen extended an arm in front of her. For a long while, her breathing was all she could hear, tangling with Owen’s just a step in front of her while Claire’s ears prickled to noticed what he had. For a beat, nothing stepped forward, growled, clicked or spoke.

Claire was about to hiss ‘what?’ at him, leaning into his shoulder when she heard it. A cry. Definitely human but not adult. The sound was strangled, tested out on new lungs, only small and still forming. Her eyes darted around the space, absorbing the lab, looking for the similarities between this one and the others they had seen. She just wanted it to be the same, another dinosaur incubation lab, breeding a cloned life where it shouldn’t be.

Owen took a small step forward, and Claire followed, matching each move with one of her own, respecting the silent rule that she had to stay behind him.

Standing in the centre of the room, blue light their only guidance as it radiated off sleeping monitors with bubbles rolling across their screens. A few were on, globes embedded in the shelves, ice blue and clinical. More for decoration than what they were a practical purpose. It hadn’t mattered. Claire’s eyes settled on a corner of the room, where the small cry had come from. Sitting there was a crib. ‘Owen …?’ She whispered.

Owen kept his distance. Claire losing visual track of him as she stepped closer. He wanted to leave. She could feel it. There was something about this whole thing that made him antsy. He didn’t want to step closer to that crib, didn’t want to tangle their lives with whatever lay on the other side of the side panel. If he saw, he would be compelled to do something, and Owen wasn’t sure he was ready for that. He just wanted to turn a blind eye and not get involved any further.

‘C’mon, this ain’t none of our business. We need to keep moving.’ He reached for her, fingers grazing the tacky material of her shirt, salt dried into the threads, making it stiff. ‘Claire.’ He said her name when his touch didn’t get her attention. His head ached, whole body exhausted from the day they had. This was their opportunity to get out, find safety and let their bodies collapse in a heap on the floor. He just wanted to put his guard down and not have to pick it back up again at least for twenty-four hours.

She wasn’t listening.

Instead, Claire had inched close enough to peer into the crib in the corner. The cry sounded a second time, looking for something but unable to communicate as Claire laid eyes on the baby within. ‘It’s a baby.’ She told him, voice hollow as her brows knitted together in concern. She looked for him over her shoulder, finding his back to her as she turned back to the tiny life they had uncovered.

The baby was small. Blanket loose around their little body as arms and legs slowly managed to wiggle free. Claire watched, caught in the movement of the child, head tilted towards the wall of the crib, mouth open and searching. She was drawn in and unable to pull herself away as she watched the baby move, another cry falling from its small lips. The little body rocked with a cry, an instinct flaring in Claire as she reached down to pick the baby up, blanket and all.

She could have sworn it was instinct, a need to protect as she reached in, fingers itching to set themselves against the warm body and soothe the baby’s upset. It had been years since her nephews were little and even then, Zach had been the only she had experience with during infancy. Claire was sure she could remember how to hold a child that small, it hummed within her along with the need in her chest begging her to move.

Her movements were slow, hands gentle under neck and back as inch by inch the baby rose out of the crib. When Claire turned, infant snug in the crook of her arm Owen had his head down, hands flicking through a folder.

‘Maisie.’ Claire and Owen said at the same time. Her fingers had found a small name tag around the child’s ankle just as Owen lifted his head from the papers he was reading. He finished the name, sounds drifting off into the quiet lab as she stared. It wasn’t every day that he saw Claire Dearing standing in front of him, holding a baby, blankets dangling from her arms. If it weren’t for the state of her clothes and the scratch on her chin, that vision would have fit perfectly into a daydream he would have denied ever having.

On the counter in the centre of the room sat the folder Owen had been leafing through. There was a picture of the baby stuck to the cover, her name written in thick sharpie underneath it along with a series of numbers neither Owen or Claire knew what to do with.

‘Why is she in here all alone?’ Claire asked, wide eyes fixing on Owen before they drifted to the grizzling girl in her arms, body so unbelievably light but stable in her grasp.  

What could Owen say? He didn’t have the answers to that question, only a shrug. Claire wasn’t buying it. ‘Says in here she’s only a few months old.’ Two to be exact, as two of his large fingers tapped on the cover. ‘Put her down.’ It was more of a demand than a request, ‘We need to get out of here’. Her feet were glued to the floor, Claire unable to move despite knowing that she needed to turn around and put the baby back where she had pulled her from. She shouldn’t have picked her up in the first place, but something told her too, the exact same thought that suggested the baby go with them.

‘I can’t.’ She admitted, arms tightening on the baby.

Owen turned back to her, ‘Claire, we really need to go’.

She shook her head. ‘I can’t put her down.’ She wanted to. Claire needed to do as Owen said, follow his lead, find their friends and get the hell out of Lockwood Manor before one species or the other managed to break out and wreak havoc on the house. ‘Why is she in here alone … in a lab?’ She asked a second time, Owen just as short of answers as he had been earlier. ‘There are dinosaurs out there,’ only a floor or two below them, ‘We can’t leave her.’ She wouldn’t. ‘She’s in here crying, all by herself … she’s too young to be alone.’ He saw the way her grip tightened, her eyes pleading with him to do something. He could nod his head and agree that she come with them, or he could physically take that baby out of her arms.

Something was stopping Owen too, a softness settling over his features as worry stirred in his gut. No baby that small with a loving mother and father, in a safe home environment, would be left on their own … in a lab … with a folder that had her name and picture on it.

Claire stood in the one spot, rocking the infant she held. The cries quietened, and Owen felt his heart crack at the sight of Claire watching that little girl. ‘I swear to God, Claire, do not make me put that baby’s life above your own.’ He knew it would happen, the need to choose between her or a two-month-old defenceless life. Just like she was making him approve of leaving or taking the baby. Something would happen. Something was bound to happen in this haunted mansion esque building filled with prehistoric creatures that weren’t even supposed to be there, to begin with. It was destined to go wrong.

But this changed everything. Owen wouldn’t put a baby at risk just so he could find Blue nor would he venture further into the manor to locate Zia and Franklin. They would have to make do on their own because his priorities had just been changed dramatically.

She nodded, short and sharp, a small smile pulling at her lips as she stepped into line behind him. He had a hand on the handle, ready to lead them back into the hallway when Owen stopped, turned, retrieved the file he had briefly glanced at and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans.

‘You need to keep her quiet.’ Owen warned, door peeling away from the jamb as he stepped out, checking the coast was clear before he motioned for Claire to follow.

Of all things, Claire Dearing didn’t know how to keep a baby quiet. Nevertheless, she nodded, looking down at Maisie as if to put the promise on the child herself. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

[…]

It didn’t hit her until they were standing in a Walmart a few hours South-East of Lockwood Manor. They took a baby. Kidnapped her. Stole the child right from her crib. A baby that probably had a mother. And yet, Claire couldn’t seem to find any remorse as Owen drove a stolen car, Claire sitting beside him, holding onto the baby tightly as they travelled without a car seat.

Owen had a buddy who lived nearby, the kind of friend he gained in the NAVY that owed him a favour. He knew the address, pulled up in a driveway, told Claire to wait in the car. His friend gave them keys to another vehicle, one not stolen, promising to get rid of the one they had parked in his driveway. He also handed Owen a stack of cash that, if spent wisely, could last them a couple of weeks. Neither of them had their wallets, the realisation dawning on Claire that her phone was gone too.

She felt like they were breaking the law, holding a baby that wasn’t hers on a strangers property as Owen exchanged quiet details. He wanted to leave her there, thirty minutes max while he ventured out to the nearest department store and purchased a car seat. Claire insisted that Owen didn’t know what he was doing before she climbed into the car and buckled herself in.

If she was completely sincere, Claire didn’t know what she was looking for in car seats either as they stood in the empty store during the graveyard shift. Owen had to hunt down a college student that worked there, someone who directed him to another staff member able to assist. The girl that helped was too chipper for 11PM after the last few days they had. She was a sight for sore eyes nonetheless as she cooed at the baby Claire held, promising to take the car seat up to the registers but not before she helped them with anything else.

Claire hated feeling useless. She shooed the girl away despite needing extra assistance as they wandered towards baby bottles, pacifiers, toys and formula. ‘How do you know what to get?’ Owen asked, feeling a little baffled as they stood in front of a row of bottles. All of them promising to be ‘no nipple confusion’, ’95% baby acceptance’ that also promote ‘healthy oral development’ along with other things that were making him uncomfortable and confused.

She shrugged, ‘Karen had these when Zach was a baby,’ or at least the brand looked familiar. She threw a box into their shopping cart before reaching for a pack of pacifiers. ‘We need to feed her, soothe her, entertain her — diapers!’ She was counting things off in her head, a mental checklist with her arms full, Owen pushing the cart behind her.

‘It’s only for a few days, Claire.’ They needed to lay low. Not bring attention to themselves, and then he would take Maisie into a police station, her file in hand and tell them where to look for her parents. A week max but no longer than that. They couldn’t raise a baby … not a stolen one at least.

Something slid across her face, a wall or sliding glass door as she turned back to him, a tin of formula slipping from her hands and into the cart. ‘Babies need a lot of things, Owen.’ He was learning that she wasn’t wrong in that regard.

‘But, you agree? We’re not keeping her.’ He stopped Claire’s hip right beside the cart, her back to him as Owen tried to peer around her shoulder. She only sidestepped the cart, turning the corner and disappearing until he followed.

‘I need you to pick one of these up.’ Boxes of diapers were stacked in six rows each of them one box too high above her head. Claire tapped on the appropriately sized box before she walked away from him, dancing a small sensory teddy over the baby’s head.

‘I need to know we’re on the same page.’ He followed her, Claire stopping at the baby clothes, her hand dusting over a few items before she picked them up. She was ignoring him, and that alone told Owen there was too much on her mind. He couldn’t tell if she was using the baby to divert other trauma’s in her mind or if something else was happening.

‘She looks too small for this.’ The tag read 0-3 Months but held up in the air it looked bigger than what would be comfortable on the small girl. He hummed, agreeing but unable to reach a solution. ‘I understand.’ Claire admitted with a sigh. ‘I just don’t know how comfortable I feel with sending her back there.’ Back to the lab. He let go of their shopping cart to reach over and squeeze her arm. Owen felt the exact same, but maybe there was something in her file that would get the girl adopted instead of sent back to her parents. ‘I knew Benjamin Lockwood. Had met him briefly,’ Owen already knew, they had discussed it a little in the car when she came to recruit him for the return mission to Isla Nublar. ‘He was a nice man. He told me only a few months ago that he wanted to save the dinosaurs, to clear both of our names from the disasters that had been Jurassic Park and World. I believed him, but I was also misled.’

‘I don’t think it had anything to do with Lockwood, Claire. I think it was all that fucker who was with Wheatley — I really wish you let me break his arm.’

She saw his fists clench and shook her head; ‘Wouldn’t have been worth it’.  

‘Was breaking his nose worth it?’ He asked, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched a flush colour her cheeks.

‘Definitely.’ Owen whispered a quiet ‘good’ in return, his lips lowering to meet her cheek on reflex. It wasn’t until he made contact with her skin that he realised they didn’t do that anymore. Claire didn’t pull away. In fact, a breathless sound drifted past her lips, her eyes fluttering closed on contact. ‘I just, I hope Lockwood had nothing to do with this.’ Her eyes were on the baby again, the same full look in chartreuse he saw earlier. He couldn’t call her on it, wouldn’t, for fear that it would push her away. Owen saw then that it was going to be hard letting going of this baby when the time came.

‘It was a big house. I’m sure there were lots of things going on that he wasn’t aware of.’ He reassured before picking up a smaller size in the exact same onesie and lying it out across the girl in her arms. ‘I think this one will fit better.’ He saw her dazzled eyes, confusion mixing in those perfect depths. ‘I have a nephew too, you know.’ He shrugged, wandering off with the trolley as Claire continued her shop.

She wasn’t looking when he added a small pack of baby socks to the cart, little animal faces sitting on top of the knee. She would have rolled her eyes if she saw them, gaze softening as she realised everything they had just done … taking a baby … he wouldn’t have changed a single thing if given the opportunity.

[…]

Owen didn’t want to stop the car, Claire situated in the back with the baby in her brand new car seat. He wanted to drive until he physically couldn’t, but it was Maisie crying in the backseat that made him stop a few hours before the sun rose.

The motel was small, nondescript and unmemorable. It was suitable enough to stop. They needed to shower, sleep and eat something outside of the moving vehicle. The baby needed it too.

‘Do you think she’s okay?’ Claire asked, the baby stretched out on the centre of the bed, lying on the blanket they had stolen her in. She had her small arms curled up by her ears, fingers rolled into fists as her little body stretched, mouth opening wide before she closed it and resumed sleeping. Claire was exhausted, her whole body ready to give in and collapse. She couldn’t take her eyes off the girl. Couldn’t move to disturb her, only watch the baby closely as her chest rose and fell and her bowed legs twitched.

Owen hummed, towel shaking water from his hair as he sat on the edge of the small breakfast table. ‘She looks fine.’ He offered, looking up from the ground. ‘Go take a shower.’ They had a big thirty-six hours, Claire still wearing the same thing, dirt caked onto her jeans and her skin tacky with sweat. ‘I’ll watch her.’ He promised, shoo-ing her off.

He felt lost when the bathroom door shut behind Claire. A baby was sleeping in the middle of their hotel bed. It had been too long since he had seen a kid this small. He didn’t know what to do with her other than watch mildly until he found the energy to stand, drop the towel around his waist and pull on a new pair of underwear.

The pipes in the walls rattled when Claire turned the shower on, something about the wheeze and whistle disturbed the baby who started to cry. He looked at her, watching her small face screw up as her mouth rattled and her arms shook. Temporarily he forgot what to do. He could read her cries like a new parent could. He had no connection to her beyond allowing Claire to pluck her out of a laboratory crib purely because he would have done the same. Something in her cry broke through to him alongside the want to soothe her before Claire came barrelling out of the shower. He reached down, large hands sliding under her too small body. It came back to him, the first time he held his brother’s son, supporting the head in the curve of his hand as he brought the baby to his chest.

In the bathroom, Claire heard Maisie crying just as she began to lather her hair with motel grade shampoo. She hesitated, fingers caught in red strands as she strained her ears to listen into the other room. Momentarily, she wondered if it would be worth washing the product out of her hair and rushing in to rescue Owen. But, by the time the suds were gone from her strands, Maisie had stopped. She told herself she needed to breathe. In a matter of six hours, that baby had become her sole focus, Claire almost losing sight of herself and the importance of keeping her hair clean (on her own personal scale of needs). She built up a second shampoo lather, deciding that if there was silence than Owen and Maisie were secure in the company of the other while she basked in the warm water soothing the aches of her body.

With the dirt scrubbed from her skin thanks to a questionable bar of soap, Claire deemed herself acceptable enough to step out of the shower. She had the forethought to take her new clothing with her, changing quickly with anxiousness to return to the girl and man she had left alone.

When the bathroom door opened, steam rolling out with her, Claire was met with the sight of Owen stretched out in the middle of the hotel bed. He was lying on his back, one hand sitting on his chest, anchoring the small bundle that was Maisie, almost shrinking under his palm. Claire stopped in her tracks caught by the vision of them, his chest rising the baby with every deep breath he took.

‘You okay?’ She asked, creeping across the room and gently crawling onto the bed. She was careful not to disturb the baby who was sleeping again, lips pursed, her cheek heavy against his bare chest.

His hand readjusted its grip on Maisie’s back, Owen giving Claire a nod in answer to her question. Something was twisting in her gut, making her cheeks warm and her vision blur as she watched him hold the baby. Maybe it was a bad idea taking the girl. Her appearance in their lives was suddenly trying to convince Claire that they could have this life, that they should have had this life if she didn’t tell him to walk away.

‘I think she needs a bottle before she goes to sleep’ She suggested, lip between her teeth being worried with uncertainty as Claire questioned the basic knowledge she had.

Owen raised his arm, taking his hand to the back of her head as he patted her damp hair. ‘Claire,’ He hummed, waiting for her to respond. She nodded, finding his eyes in the waking light of their motel room. ‘Just get some sleep.’ Claire lowered her head to the pillow beside him, trying not to overthink the fact that they were sharing a bed again. Instead, she focused on Maisie, one of her hands joining his on her back.

There was no way she could sleep safely like that on Owen’s chest. He would have to move her before he fell asleep but Claire didn’t have the energy to raise her head again to tell him. She fell asleep with the feeling of his fingers in her hair, the warmth of a baby under her fingertips and the smell of Owen so close to her nose it was almost the sole thing that knocked her out.

[…]

She woke to the sound of quiet cries, the baby already ingraining herself into the back of Claire’s mind. Her eyes snapped open, searching the empty bed in front of her, her body lacking the warmth of her sleeping partner. Her heart started to hammer beneath her ribs as she slowly sat finding the room empty but the sound of the baby still ringing in her ears.

It hadn’t been a dream. Claire knew that much. Jurassic World. Lockwood Manor. Owen. Maisie. It was all real. She could still smell the baby in her nose and feel the press of his lips against her cheek. She could remember the burn of saltwater in her lungs and the dusty smell of the old gyrosphere.

Trying to catch her breath, Claire pulled herself out of the old bed, feet hesitating against the rough motel carpet as she followed the sounds of the baby she stole. Owen was sitting outside their motel room, propped up in a wooden rocker that was stationed between every two doors. He had Maisie tucked into his arm, the dark hair on her head appearing beyond the bend in his elbow as his other hand held a bottle.

‘Sorry.’ He apologised, head lifting from the infant to catch Claire closing their motel door behind her quietly. ‘I was trying to keep her quiet.’ Owen explained, wanting Claire to get more than a few hours of shut-eye before the baby started to grizzle. ‘She doesn’t like the bottle much.’ The look on his face was pained as he returned his eyes to the baby, rubbing the teat of her bottle against her bottom lip, trying to encourage her to take it. It was making the process difficult because she wouldn’t take it but there was nothing more that Owen could do. Claire was awake, he had already failed in that regard

‘Maybe she was exclusively breastfed?’ Claire shrugged her shoulders, a single finger stretching out to stroke the soft hair on Maisie’s scalp.

Owen hummed. ‘She doesn’t have a mother.’

‘I mean, sure, we found her alone, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a woman out there missing her child right now.’ He could only hope no one had noticed she was missing or at least had taken them some time.

‘She doesn’t have a mother.’ Owen repeated, his face drawn in contemplation as he lifted it to face her once again. Claire blinked at him, mouth open and puzzled. He rested the baby’s bottle on her chest, freeing his hand to pluck the folder he had tucked between his thigh and the arm of the chair out from its place. ‘They … ah, they were using her? She’s some kind of project.’ He told her, offering the folder in explanation.

Claire shook her head. She didn’t want to know. Her eyes darted from the folder to the baby. She reached for her, both arms extended, fingers itching. ‘Can I have her?’ She asked when he didn’t move, stepping in front of him and bending to collect the girl without even waiting for his nod and breathless, ‘of course’.    

Maisie cried in Claire’s arms, just as she had with Owen. She rocked her, swaying her hips and bouncing in her step as she accepted the warm bottle he held out for her. The baby begrudgingly allowed it this time, face turned towards Claire’s chest as she grunted against the plastic. Claire grinned at him, a little triumphant that she could get the baby to do what he couldn’t.

‘I don’t think we can take her back to Lockwood Manor. She isn’t safe there.’

‘What should we do?’ Owen watched her, fighting back the small smile that was trying to poke through. It was mid-morning, Claire standing in front of him barefoot in pyjamas rocking a baby like she was made to do it. ‘We can’t just leave her somewhere.’ She worried about the option of turning her little life into the police and asking them to deal with it. ‘She’s only going to end up back where she came from.’ That was if they were looking for her. There was a chance if no one stepped forward the baby would end up in the system and at two-months-old Claire was sure she could find herself a friendly home.

They were quiet, nothing but Maisie’s suckles in the air around them. Owen was the first to sigh, hand scrubbing over his face as he shielded his eyes. ‘I don’t know, Claire.’ He breathed, trying to think about it and the things he had seen. She didn’t want to know. Had shaken her head at the chance when he offered. And yet, it sat in his lap answers trying to reach for her.

‘Did they hurt her?’ She asked, voice low and scared, arms tightening their hold on the baby.

Owen moved his hand, green eyes meeting hers. ‘I don’t know. There’s a flash drive I can’t look at just yet.’ From what he had read they mostly deprived her of contact. Left her to lie on her own and self-soothe since she was born.

‘We can’t send her back.’ She told him, urgently like he didn’t already think the place was a bad idea. ‘No wonder she’s so small.’ He answered with something from Maisie’s file a dislike in bottles. ‘They were treating her like an animal, Owen.’ Tears were burning in her eyes as he rattled off this and that from her file. ‘Is there something wrong with her? Is she sick? Contagious?’ Her lip curled, almost disgusted but her grip on the baby didn’t weaken. She was holding on tight with no intention to let go.

‘Not from what I read. Maisie would have been better secluded if she was contagious.’ A room in the middle of an empty hallway three floors below ground was pretty secluded if he had to think of a definition. ‘We need to take …’ he stopped, watching a hot tear slip down Claire’s cheek. She was shaking her head, backing away with two steps. ‘Claire, what?’ He softened, catching her guard up, eyes wide and scared. ‘Hey, calm down.’ He stood, hands up by his chest approaching her like a frightened animal.

She shook her head, taking her eyes off him to watch the baby in her arms. Owen wasn’t the threat. He wouldn’t hurt her. She would have time to run if she needed it. ‘Can’t we keep her?’ She didn’t look at him, tears rolling down her cheeks and landing in dark spots on the baby’s onesie. ‘If she has nowhere to go? Nowhere safe … can’t we try to do something right by her? I can do a better by her. Better than what she had.’

Owen shook his head. ‘We don’t know the first thing about raising a kid. We ain’t even together.’ He didn’t have a single worry that she wouldn’t be a good mom, because he knew she would outshine so many others. Owen just knew she couldn’t do this alone, would need support and strength. They weren’t a couple anymore. What would happen if they imploded again?

‘But we can try! We got through the night. She’s eating now.’ She gestured, raising the baby in her arms, eyes closed, mouth still moving around the teat of the bottle. ‘Please, Owen, I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to her.’ Her grip tightened, finger pushing into the blanket by the baby’s small thigh. ‘I can’t willingly let her go back to being a guinea pig.’ She hissed, making Owen flinch.

‘I wasn’t suggesting that.’ He was just trying to think logically.

Determination burned in her eyes, contrasting the tears on her cheeks. ‘Can you take us to Karen’s?’ That was it. She didn’t have the money or the confidence to put herself and the baby on a plane. Karen and her boys were still living in Madison, Wisconsin and where that was an easy forty hour drive from California, Owen and Claire were already sitting on the Nevada state line. It was still a big drive, but they had already started. Owen was the one who suggested they needed to lay low. A road trip with nothing but cash and a car they traded would make them virtually untraceable.

He nodded, hesitantly. It was a big task to get them that far. He could do it, but it would take them time. ‘Yeah.’ He cleared his throat, trying for a stronger sound. ‘Yeah, I can do that.’

[surveysonfleek]

966.

SECTION 1- YOU ARE…

kind gentle free-spirited intuitive artistic brave bold adventurous creative unique open-minded loving easygoing genuine remarkable

a masterpiece beautiful talented gifted blessed forgiven free skilled knowledgeable intelligent privileged thankful caring compassionate understanding shy broken fragile lost lonely optimistic hopeful ambitious determined outgoing organized energetic friendly

SECTION 2–YOUR INTERESTS

reading discovery spirituality beauty cooking exercise/fitness sports painting drawing photography animals fashion dancing singing acting creative writing crafts other artistic hobbies camping hiking stargazing worship music playing a musical instrument fishing video games television anime origami

SECTION 3- THINGS YOU LOVE

the first drop on a roller coaster nature chocolate sunlight running dancing swimming glitter painting sports math writing art the feeling when you worship the stars fireflies summer nights sunsets feeling alive dressing up deep conversations true friendship sleepovers smoothies nachos animals pie ice cream hot tea making new friends shopping deep sleep learning good books bright colors curly hair snow days snow water rain sunbathing sharing secrets with someone camping hiking science history learning foreign languages yoga autumn the woods mountains coffee church school work daydreaming bonfires competition martial arts

SECTION 4- FOODS YOU LIKE

pickles pizza hot dogs chicken brownies salad nachos hamburgers sushi strawberries dried cranberries mashed potatoes corn scrambled eggs pancakes waffles cheesecake kale mushrooms olives bananas grapes shrimp broccoli carrots ranch dip peanut butter apples caramel popcorn spaghetti lasagna tacos sloppy joes yogurt fish sticks salmon oatmeal rice beans dark chocolate pomegranates coconut cinnamon

SECTION 5- DRINKS YOU LIKE

hot tea water pop/soda soy milk regular milk rice milk coconut milk almont milk lemonade sweet tea sangria beer strawberry daquiri chai latte coffee apple cider caramel hot chocolate French vanilla hot chocolate cappuccino smoothies orange julius flavored water energy drinks orange juice apple juice Kool-Aid punch vodka green tea

SECTION 6–THINGS YOU’VE DONE

hiked a mountain played Truth or Dare ridden a roller coaster slept under the stars pulled an all-nighter gone on a diet ran away from home dreamt of running away from home wished on a star had a crush curled your hair straightened your hair been to a school dance blew out birthday candles built a snowman swam in the ocean been to the beach got a tan got a sunburn went on vacation met a celebrity read the entire Bible had a supernatural experience seen a double rainbow sat on a rooftop gone camping slept in a tent had a sleepover dyed your hair

SECTION 7- THINGS YOU WANT TO DO

write a book paint a self-portrait get married have kids go on a honeymoon find my soulmate fulfill my destiny find my purpose in life grow as a person contribute to society leave a legacy travel try new foods be more adventurous make more friends get better grades be more organized become a better person change your hair color do things you’ve never done before be amazing live a worthwhile and fulfilling life be happy be famous get your hair done be on the cover of a magazine live feel alive party

SECTION 7- GIRL NAMES YOU LIKE

Anica Bianca Skye Skylar Marissa Peyton Madison Aurora Jade Stella Acacia Eliana Suzy Brooke Corinne Jessica Allison Jennifer Bailey Raelynn Riley Tessa Sophia Savannah Kaylee Kallie Brianna Jacinda Serenity

SECTION 8- BOY NAMES YOU LIKE

Dylan Scott James Ryan Deklan Storm Seth Lionel Gabriel Matthew Zane Skylar Jayce Ethan Zeke Jason Justin Cade Colton Zach Lars Carter Austin Zander Lance William Harper Cole Zenner

SECTION 9–CAN YOU…

do a cartwheel do the splits touch your nose to your tongue lick the tip of your nose bend your arm all the way around with your hand on a flat surface lick your elbow wink whistle pull your fingers out of joint dance sing draw well cross your eyes snap your fingers

SECTION 10–DO YOU HAVE A…

secret best friend significant other dream job dream house celebrity crush regret talent gift backyard car cell phone computer favorite book messy room love of nature nightlight favorite day of the week mirror in your room camera favorite eyeliner magazine subscription favorite website flashlight favorite pair of shoes journal favorite pillow positive outlook on life

[nostalgiaispeace]

753.

Bold Survey.

Section 1- You are…

kind gentle free-spirited intuitive artistic

brave bold adventurous creative unique open-minded loving easygoing genuine remarkable a masterpiece beautiful talented gifted blessed forgiven free skilled knowledgeable intelligent privileged thankful caring compassionate understanding shy broken fragile lost lonely optimistic hopeful ambitious determined outgoing organized energetic friendly

Section 2–Your Interests

reading discovery spirituality beauty cooking exercise/fitness sports painting drawing photography animals fashion dancing singing acting creative writing crafts other artistic hobbies camping hiking stargazing worship music playing a musical instrument fishing video games television anime origami

Section 3- Things You Love

the first drop on a roller coaster nature chocolate sunlight running dancing swimming glitter painting sports math writing art the feeling when you worship the stars fireflies summer nights sunsets feeling alive dressing up deep conversations true friendship sleepovers smoothies nachos animals pie ice cream hot tea making new friends shopping deep sleep learning good books bright colors curly hair snow days snow water rain sunbathing sharing secrets with someone camping hiking science history learning foreign languages yoga autumn the woods mountains coffee church school work daydreaming bonfires competition martial arts

Section 4- Foods You Like

pickles pizza hot dogs chicken brownies salad nachos hamburgers sushi strawberries dried cranberries mashed potatoes corn scrambled eggs pancakes waffles cheesecake kale mushrooms olives bananas grapes shrimp broccoli carrots ranch dip peanut butter apples caramel popcorn spaghetti lasagna tacos sloppy joes yogurt fish sticks salmon oatmeal rice beans dark chocolate pomegranates coconut cinnamon

Section 5- Drinks You Like

hot tea water pop/soda soy milk regular milk rice milk coconut milk almont milk lemonade sweet tea sangria beer strawberry daquiri chai latte coffee apple cider caramel hot chocolate French vanilla hot chocolate cappuccino smoothies orange julius flavored water energy drinks orange juice apple juice Kool-Aid punch vodka green tea

Section 6–Things You’ve Done

hiked a mountain played Truth or Dare ridden a roller coaster slept under the stars pulled an all-nighter gone on a diet ran away from home dreamt of running away from home wished on a star had a crush curled your hair straightened your hair been to a school dance blew out birthday candles built a snowman swam in the ocean been to the beach got a tan got a sunburn went on vacation met a celebrity read the entire Bible had a supernatural experience seen a double rainbow sat on a rooftop gone camping slept in a tent had a sleepover dyed your hair

Section 7- Things You Want to Do

write a book paint a self-portrait get married have kids go on a honeymoon find my soulmate fulfill my destiny find my purpose in life grow as a person contribute to society leave a legacy travel try new foods be more adventurous make more friends get better grades be more organized become a better person change your hair color do things you’ve never done before be amazing live a worthwhile and fulfilling life be happy be famous get your hair done be on the cover of a magazine live feel alive party

Section 7- Girl Names You Like

Anica Bianca Skye Skylar Marissa Peyton Madison Aurora Jade Stella Acacia Eliana Suzy Brooke Corinne Jessica Allison Jennifer Bailey Raelynn Riley Tessa Sophia Savannah Kaylee Kallie Brianna Jacinda Serenity

Section 8- Boy Names You Like

Dylan Scott James Ryan Deklan Storm Seth Lionel Gabriel Matthew Zane Skylar Jayce Ethan Zeke Jason Justin Cade Colton Zach Lars Carter Austin Zander Lance William Harper Cole Zenner

Section 9–Can you…

do a cartwheel do the splits touch your nose to your tongue lick the tip of your nose bend your arm all the way around with your hand on a flat surface lick your elbow wink whistle pull your fingers out of joint dance sing draw well cross your eyes snap your fingers

Section 10–Do you have a…

secret best friend significant other dream job dream house celebrity crush regret talent gift backyard car cell phone computer favorite book messy room love of nature nightlight favorite day of the week mirror in your room camera favorite eyeliner magazine subscription favorite website flashlight favorite pair of shoes journal favorite pillow positive outlook on life

[zaheela]

We need to talk about ashton and those abs because hot damn who would've thought?! Any hcs about isabella's reactions and opinions about it? ;)

She’s known he’s very well built honestly, but before the haunting, she’s never really given it much more then a passing daydream. it’s not like she’s seen him without a shirt or a coat. To be honest, when she first saw them, she was surprised, because she was not expecting him to be THAT fit… It threw her off so bad she didn’t really have an expression, or active thought.

BUTTT… Also, I’ve promised this idea for a while now…

None of them ever imagined that tonight would ever happen. A gathering of awkward looks, snippy comments, and snide insults; even the rest of the bar patrons gave them a wide berth. Only the absolute fear of retribution from G had quelled any physical violence, but all the pent up frustration made the 7 of them reach for the next best thing, alcohol. Isabella gave Rebecca and Marianne something akin to a side-wards stink eyes, as they had been the one to drag along a very whiny Luke Wright with them, though the former was in a… she guessed relationship? (Rebecca would only say it was complicated when asked.)

Zach had physically placed himself between the man and Hannah, who was rather amicable to the man, though she notably spent more time trying to convince Isabella to let her back into her wardrobe. Something about her undergarments needing to be updated to reflect her new ‘level of relationship.’ It had taken her a minute, before she realized that SOMEHOW Hannah had learned that Ashton and herself had finally ‘done the deed.’ The sweet cider did nothing to calm her inflamed cheeks. In response, Luke’s comment had set Ashton on end, her boyfriend practically lunging at him, forcing her to lean against him and preventing him from getting them thrown out. Part of her wished she had let him attack him though.

“Ash, let me go already, I don’t want to get involved.”

“Come on Belle, Whose got the better abs?” Better yet? She wished she’d never gotten out of bed. The score was tied, One for luke, One for Ashton, and Hannah had abstained from voting. So now she was face to face to Luke’s bare torso while pulled forcefully into Ashton’s lap, arm sandwiched between her own body and his own, very bare stomach. The other women in their group smothered their laughter, as she wriggled in an attempt to make enough room for her to slip her arm out, but the movement only made Ashton hold her in closer, both unwilling to let Luke get any closer to her and demanding she understand how superior his physique was of the two. The two continued to argue over her head, their aggressive posturing closing the gap. Finally she had enough. Her ribs were now sore, her arm was asleep, and her head hurt, all because Ashton didn’t get the hint to LET HER GO.

“ASHTON!” Her frustrated tone shut both men up. “Let go, or else…”

“Belle?” His inquisitive tone only set off her final nerve.

“Luke’s better.” Not even bothering to look at his face (she guessed it was most likely being to be blank) she stormed out of the restaurant, waving her arm for a cab. From inside she could hear Luke’s boastful laughter, Rebeccas annoyed tone (Luke was most likely going to be cowed in a moment) and hannah’s giggles. She would just wait in Rebecca’s living room and ask to sleep over, at least that way he couldn’t sneak back in while she was asleep.

—-

Blearily, she blinked as she felt arms support her shoulderblade and knees, jolting her out of her alcohol misted doze. The cold air jolted her sleepy haze from her eyes, but she dared not yell. Even if her neighbors knew him, it wouldn’t do anyone good to make anyone think he was kidnapping her. She’d wait until they were in his car…