#(now i’m wondering about the poor soul who accidentally picks up the glasses and gets an eyeful lol)

[padfootastic]

I don’t know if anyone else has had this thought (wouldn’t surprise me) but I’ve never seen anyone talk about it.

You can not convince me that James Potter didn’t enchanted his glass to do cool shit. Perhaps he got them to function kinda like the map but for anywhere and everywhere he is. Maybe they can show the entire lay out of the building or area he’s in, let him see through stuff, show him what people are thinking, replay memories not just his own but those of others (sorta like a pensive) maybe they can identify dark wizards or something I don’t know! But there is NO way James and Sirius didn’t come with this ✨brilliant✨ idea. The possibility are astounding.

I don’t think he’d enchant them to cheat in school he didn’t need the help nor do I think he’d use them in that stereotypical way of seeing through peoples clothes or anything of that sort. That’s stuff kinda lame in my opinion.

anon be honest, did u see my answer to another ask comparing james to tony stark a while ago? *squints suspiciously*

lol i’m kidding but u cannot tell me that isn’t ridiculously futuristic innovator of him. and i love it. j&s’ troublemaking was always breaking rules & pushing the boundaries of magic (for me) and this fits perfectly for them. i bet they had so many half-discarded genius ideas for how to make things around them different or better.

lol @ james potter fucking around and accidentally inventing not just muggle television but *portable* muggle televisions. very on brand.

[impala-dreamer]

King Midas

SPN FanFic

~Dean gets hit with a curse and Y/N makes an unloseable bet.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

1,815 Words

Warnings: CRACK! It's just Crack, little smut chatter. Nothing too bad.

A/N: Sometimes you just need something ridiculous... Do hope you enjoy... ;)

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Bright light settled into a golden glow that pulsed around the room. Glass peppered the Oriental rug like shards of deadly confetti and a cold breeze blew through the now open windows; all shattered by the witch’s blast.

“Ya know!” Y/N’s voice rang through the room, annoyance clear in her yell.  

A big hand reached for her and she took it, allowing Sam to help her to her feet. “You OK?” he asked gently, hazel eyes brown in the gilded light that set around the edges of the disheveled room.

Y/N looked up and sighed, squinting up at him, aggravated. “Do you have any idea how many curses were flung at me before I met you two dumbasses?”

Dean laughed from the floor across from them and popped up on one elbow. “A few, I’m guessing.”

“None!” she yelled back, pulling a long piece of glass from her hair. “None.”

Sam held in a laugh, knowing she would calm down soon. She often called them dumbasses when she was annoyed and tired. It was like a pet name. A really rude, insulting pet name.

“Sorry, Y/N/N.” Sam swiped his hand across her shoulder and shooed away some dust and glass. “You cut anywhere?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nah, I’m fine. Just tired of getting knocked out by random colorful blasts. How come every witch we meet has the super rainbow explosion power?”

He shrugged and laughed under his breath. “I wish I knew.”

From the floor, Dean cleared his throat. “At least you didn’t take the rainbow bomb in the chest.”

“Oh shit, Dean,” Y/N cringed. “Are you alright?”

He waved a dismissive hand and then flipped over onto his stomach, pushing up on his hands and knees. “I’m fine. Can’t keep me down.” As he spoke, his lower back twitched painfully and he bowed, belly headed back towards the floor. “Gah!”

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Sam sniggered.

Dean grit his teeth and pushed hard on his hands, splaying his palms out flat on the rug. “Shut up, Sam!” A hot tingle spread down Dean’s right arm, starting at the shoulder and pushing down like warm syrup into his fingers and out the tips. “Oh…” Dean looked down and watched as the warmth left his hand and pulsed against the floor, fibers of the carpet heating up beneath his touch. “What the-”

“Dean?”

He turned to see Y/N’s annoyance gone, replaced with concern. Her eyes were big, her brow creased with worry. He shot up quickly, immediately forgetting the weird tingle.

“I’m good,” he said, shooting her a smile. “You guys hungry? I’m hungry.” He adjusted his collar and pushed passed them both, nearly knocking Y/N over as he headed for the door. “Saw a diner down the block. Daddy needs bacon.”

He may have needed bacon, but actually eating it didn’t seem like it was going to happen.

As soon as they left the witch’s house it started to happen; her curse taking on its form, showing off for the trio.

It started with the door knob but it was harder to notice since it was already metal. He lingered there, turning the knob in his hands as he waited for Sam and Y/N, and the tingle returned to his body.

Next was the iron railing coming down the front steps. They stood on the porch for a moment recounting some random information about the case, Dean leaning on his hand against the cold black metal. Again, the tingle flowed from his shoulder straight down until it left his hand.

If Dean had bothered to say something or hang out for a few more seconds, he would have seen what the warmth was doing. But as it was, he was hungry and failed to see that the things he touched turn to gold in his wake.

When shining gold began to overtake the weathered leather of the steering wheel, the Impala swerved dangerously on the country road and Dean screamed, driving off into the shoulder to park and panic.

“What the fuck!” Dean’s hands flew up and away from the wheel, his precious car becoming a victim of some quick working alchemy as he watched on in horror. He braced himself against the back of the seat, tingling beginning again as he clutched the upholstery.

“Well, that’s new…” Sam said curiously, leaning over the bench seat to look at the wheel.

The backseat squeaked as Y/N moved forward, looking over Dean’s heaving chest to see the gilded circle. It looked as if he had gold-leafed a perfect handprint on the leather.

“Whelp, guess we know what the curse was,” she said with a small laugh, sitting back and crossing her arms.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Dean’s head spun to look at her over his shoulder, brows creased, lips in a pout. “What!”

“You got the Midas Touch, my friend,” she said, nodding to the hand still clutching the back of his seat.

Sure enough, below his hand was a hard patch of pure gold.

Dean made a dying bleat noise and pulled his palm away from the seat. “Son of a bitch! My car!” Instinctively, he rubbed at his cheek, forgetting or perhaps not realizing what the strange tingling in his forearm foretold.

“Dean!” Sam barked, slapping Dean’s hand away from his face.

“What?” Dean looked from Sam to his own palm and then to the newly golden interior and his gears turned. “Oh, fuck me…”

“Not until this curse is over, Big Guy,” Y/N laughed, clicking her tongue.

Dean cast an annoyed glance in her direction. “This isn’t funny, Y/N!”

“Kinda is…”

“Is not!”

“OK, both of you shut up!” Sam commanded and the Impala fell silent. “Let’s just deal with this logically.”

Dean looked back at Sam like a boy who just found out there’s no Santa Clause. “How, Sam? How? How am I gonna eat? I need to eat.”

Y/N bit her tongue to stifle a laugh but couldn’t help making a comment. “He’s worried about food,” she said under her breath. “Wait till he has to take a piss…”

Dean found a bit of comfort in the old diner, hiding away in a booth in the back, old red vinyl seat molding to his tired ass as he sat there, forlorn and helpless. Every so often, Y/N would take pity on him and lift his burger to his lips, doing her best to feed the poor soul and not laugh in his face.

“So, it looks like the curse will wear off in twenty-four hours…” Sam swiped through the lore book on his laptop and shrugged. “Not too bad.”

Absentmindedly, Dean picked at a piece of bacon on his plate, jaw dropping as Sam seemed to brush off his predicament. “No big deal? Sam...I’m dying here. I’m gonna have to wear mittens to bed.”

Y/N shook her head. “Wouldn’t the mittens just turn to gold?”

Dean rolled his eyes at her. “Why are you so nasty this week?”

She sneered. “I don’t know. Just tired of witches and their bullshit.”

“Same,” Dean agreed with a sigh and lifted the bacon to his lips. He took a bite and immediately spit it back out. “Oh, come on! Not the bacon!”

“Everything you touch, Dean. Bacon, the car, your shirt, you! Everything.” Sam over enunciated the last word just to drive the point into his brother’s head, but Dean just slumped in his seat and pouted some more.

“This blows.”

Y/N grinned and looked at Sam. “Twenty bucks says he’s got golden junk by morning.”

Dean sat straight up and gasped. “Excuse me! I can control myself for twenty-four hours!”

“No, Dean,” she laughed. “You can’t.”

Dean lounged on the bed, fully clothed atop the comforter, propped up by pillows. He sat with his palms up, hands resting on his thighs. He was exhausted.

“Pssst!”

Sam looked up from his laptop slowly, distracted by Dean’s less than quiet call. “What?”

“What if…” He paused, looking towards the bathroom door behind which, Y/N was changing for bed. “What if I accidentally like grab her boobs while I’m sleeping?”

Sam laughed, head shaking as he wondered why Dean was such an idiot sometimes. “Just don’t touch her.”

“Yeah, but,” Dean whispered loudly, “what if I do?”

“Then that would suck,” Sam said simply. “So don’t.”

Another look at the bathroom door and Dean groaned pathetically. “Can I sleep with you?”

Sam scoffed. “What? No!”

Dean growled and pouted. “You suck.”

“Ready for bed?” Y/N appeared in the doorway, night shirt loose around her thighs but tight across her chest.

Dean drooled. “Uh, yeah.”

She hopped into the bed beside him and pecked his cheek sweetly. “No touchy.”

Her smile was both enticing and mocking, but Dean couldn’t decide which was more appealing. The idea of not being able to touch her all night was driving him mad.

“No touchy,” he echoed, silently praying that his hands would just fall off.

“Night, Sam!” Y/N called over Dean’s chest.

“Night,” Sam murmured back.

“Great,” Dean sighed as Y/N lay down and snuggled up against his side, her plump ass warm against his leg. “Just...great.”

“Oh, fuck…”

A moan tickled Y/N’s ear and she stirred.

“Goddamn, baby...mhm… just like that.”

Sam’s dream began to fade.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Shit!”

A scream woke them both and Sam jumped from his bed to bang on the bathroom door, Dean’s frantic yell making his heart race. Y/N bolted up out of bed too, right behind Sam, her breath short with worry.

“Dean!” Sam banged again, giant fist rattling the entire door. “What’s going on?”

The noise died down and the door opened up, bright white light spilling into the dark room.

Dean stood in the bathroom, his face twisted with guilt and pain, his shorts tented boldly. Y/N looked down to the fabric pop-up and saw a hint of gold glinting from the flap.  

Sam saw it too and shook his head. “Dean… no.”

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and turned away, headed back to bed. “I called it!” She shook her head and plopped back down into bed, gathering up her pillow and closing her eyes. “I fucking called it.”

Sam looked down at Dean and sighed. “One night, man. One.”

Dean shrugged innocently and laughed at himself. “I… I couldn’t help it. I’m a man. I have urges, Sam.”

“Yeah, well now you got a golden dick!” Y/N called from the bed.

“This sucks.” Dean’s shoulders fell and he looked down at his 24 carat cock.

“Hey,” Sam said, trying to make him feel a little better, “at least you didn’t grab her boobs…”

Dean grunted and pushed passed his brother to go lay down. “Yeah… shut up, Sammy.”

2019 Forever Tags:

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[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Happy Birthday to Me Pt 9

I slapped my face a couple of times and shook it hard to clear myself up.  When we went back to join the others we found that they had already cut the cake and had started to eat it. A-Yuan was demanding everyone eat some.

“It’s so yummy!!” he said happily. And then he looked over and saw me coming back and scrambled over to me as fast as he could with a piece of cake. 

“Xian-Ge! You have to!” he said, offering a forkful of the cake to me. I crouched down and gobbled up the bite with a loud “OMN” sound, making him giggle.

As I knew it would be, the cake was the most delicious cake ever created.

“Lan Zhan, you have to taste this!” I said, offering him a bit off the same fork. I barely finished my sentence before he’d taken the bite, not even bothering to take the fork out of my hands.

And then as I was considering the fact that I’d accidentally created a cliche ‘indirect kiss’ situation, the asshole had to go and lick his lips in the sexiest display I have ever seen in my life. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

I managed to smile at him as he nodded his approval at me. I REALLY hope he hasn’t noticed how much I was blushing that day. Ugh. I’m a mess. 

I took Lan Zhan’s hand after that and decided we should officially rejoin the party. Walking turned into challenge mode as it often did when A-Yuan was around, because he grabbed onto my jeans as I walked. 

I’ve had more than one close call with that kid in regards to almost kicking him in the damn face. Ugh.

I stood a bit behind Lan Zhan to hopefully hide how red and gross my eyes were from all that crying. Fortunately everyone was further distracted by SangSang asking for the first brave soul to go up to sing. 

Unwilling to stop touching Lan Zhan, I pulled on his shoulders a bit so I could rest my chin on them. I pressed my cheek against his neck and asked him what he was going to sing. 

He shrugged, which was weird with my head on his shoulders but I was not to be dislodged. This close I could feel the heat coming off his poor red ears. 

I decided NOT to remind him that this was HIS idea. XD

Surprisingly enough, it was DaGe who stomped up on stage first. Never would have pegged him as the musical type!

He further shocked and wowed the crowd by not only singing something from Frank Sinatra, or at least something that sounds like him ( I have no idea what singer sings what. Don’t AT me!) but singing it WELL! He’s got this really deep like slightly raspy kind of voice when he sings. It sounded so GOOD! Talk about a tough act to follow! Fuck I thought karaoke was supposed to be for people BAD at singing!

His song ended up competing against uproarious cheers and whoops, led by Lan Xichen and the kids who easily out-shouted us. (For such a quiet man, Lan Xichen has some PIPES when he wants to be loud!)

A-Ling and A-Yuan somehow ended up on the little podium with him so that they could cheer and dance around him. I can’t imagine they cared either way for the song, but they definitely enjoyed the excuse to scream. Clearly amused, DaGe knelt down to sing TO them, much to their delight. I couldn’t help but laugh as Wen Ning even joined in, pulling the kids a bit further away for safety and twirling in a circle with them in some fun made up dance. 

The song finally ended with a flourish and a bow and much more screaming. When he looked up he seemed to lock eyes with Lan Zhan who immediately looked ready to just book it. He looked even more prepared to bolt when SangSang joined his brother on the stage. 

And just like those creepy twins from The Shining, they asked Lan Zhan to sing with them. 

And not just sing

Oh no.

They asked him to sing Celine Dion with them. 

I may or may not have secretly taken a picture on my phone that I will cherish forever. Just sayin.

He didn’t move at all until Lan Xichen practically shoved him up there. He looked at me for help, but I wasn’t gonna pass up this once in a lifetime opportunity. No way in Hell! So I help his brother push.  Just to seal the deal I used his own words against me. The ones from when I was sick. 

“Do it for me!”

I know I’m an asshole but how could I not?

I didn’t know his spine COULD bend that much. He slumped forward onto the stage, looking utterly defeated. 

Honestly I felt so bad about it I was about to go up and pull him back, but I was too late. The song had started. 

Turns out it wasn’t a Celine Dion song. 

It was THE Celine Dion song. 

Titanic theme BBY!

DaGe draped his arm over Lan Zhan’s shoulders, probably to keep him from running, as Nie Huaisang started off the song with as much over the top passion and drama as is demanded by law for that song. He said something to him but I couldn’t hear it over SangSang’s lovely crooning. 

And then it was  Nie Duet. For once I actually could believe they were brothers! Their shit-eating grins were identical as they pingponged poor Lan Zhan between them with their nudging, trying to get him to sing too. 

Eventually he gave in and between the three of them they made the most amazing, wonderful show I’ve ever seen. Lan Zhan even got into it eventually as he and SangSang practically screamed gracelessly into the microphones.

Amazingly enough, it was DaGe who managed to hit all the high notes. Did he have fucking lessons or something? How??????

I don’t think I’ve ever come CLOSE to seeing Lan Zhan acting that… SILLY before! Oh. He ended up looking like he was having SO much fun. It was so wonderful. I wish he could have that much fun every day of his life!

He looked a bit meek again after the song ended so I hugged him tight after he got off stage. Meanwhile his older brother was pushing his way ON to the stage. Apparently it was his turn now. 

I was trying not to laugh again, afraid he’d think I was making fun of him like he clearly thought before. I didn’t do a great job of it because he told me to go ahead and laugh. “I know it’s lame.”

Oh that got me going, though not in the guffaws that threatened earlier. I chuckled at him for being adorable and told him it wasn’t lame at all. I told him I was just happy to see him acting so damn silly and that I’d love to see it again. 

He pulled back to look at me and I could only start laughing again. A real in the gut laugh. It was good. So good. It was like it cleared up the last of the sobbing I’d done earlier. I felt so much better. 

“That song though,” I said, not able to resist teasing him as I put my head on his shoulder again. “I was NOT expecting that one. Celine Dion? Really??”

And then he pinched my side. Probably trying to tickle me. It did a little but that’s a dangerous game to play when the tickler themselves is QUITE ticklish and the ticklee KNOWS it. 

I pinched him back in the exact same way he pinched me and he lept back so fast it was like a cat jumping out of a bath! And even better, he stumbled RIGHT into the peacock. (brief heart attack because the peacock had at some point stolen A-Lian from her mother, but my precious niece was perfectly fine. ) 

He gave Lan Zhan a LOOK like his patience was seriously being tested, but sighed in the end and offered him A-Lian in what looked very much like a peace offering than anything else. 

“At least you’ll be more careful with her, I hope,” he said in the most threatening tone I think I’ve ever heard from a bird. 

And then Lan Zhan proved he had no qualms with stooping to the lowest of lows by using my beloved niece as a SHIELD while calling for a truce! He held her up so she was standing on his lap and her face covered his and he wiggled her arms all adorable.

And A-Lian just gave me those doe eyes that she learned from her mother and collaborated with him!

So I did the only thing I could do. I shuffled closer, bracing one hand against Lan Zhan’s neck, and tickled my traitor niece instead. She squealed and squirmed, her face turning cherry pink! 

When MianMian and Qin Su started singing some spice girls or destiny’s child or some song or other, A-Lian started to wiggle to it even though I’d stopped tickling her. 

“You like that music?” I heard Lan Zhan say as he took her by the hands to help her keep her balance as he wiggled along with her. He sounded so warm and happy. 

But then I made a mistake. I looked at Lan Zhan again. And oh that FUCKING FEELING came back. 

No! I’m good with being an uncle! I don’t need more! 

My life is a MESS. I can’t even take care of myself! How am I supposed to think about…

But then if he was with me… 

NO!

He’s NOT with me! This is just idle fantasy and I SHOULDN’T be daydreaming about it! YOU KNOW BETTER WEI YING.

Besides even if that were… a thing. It’s kinda putting the cart before the horse. 

One step at a time. If we ever do actually make it past step one THEN we can start thinking of… what would that be. Step 15?????????????????????????????????????????

UGH.

He was looking at her with such a tender expression. It made my heart squeeze with want so hard it almost hurt. 

I grabbed a glass of wine and downed it to help keep my mind away from such dangerous fantasies. 

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” I said once the burn of the alcohol had settled in my stomach. 

“I didn’t know either,” Lan Zhan said. Do Lans not have kids? I suppose he’s probably spent most of his time with his brother, and he doesn’t have kids so maybe that makes sense. 

“Maybe A-Lian is just that good with adults,” he continued after a thoughtful pause, making me snicker.  I leaned in to kiss my niece’s chubby (and admittedly kinda sticky) cheek and she giggled, making my heart squeeze again. 

Then she made grabby hands at me to pick her up! ;dklsjf;saj I must have done something right because she doesn’t ask for me very often! So naturally I scooped her up immediately. Lan Zhan seemed unwilling to give her up, not that I blame him, and held her a little longer even though she was secured in my arms already. 

Eventually he did let go though, saying he was going to get more cake. I made A-Lian wave at him as he got up and asked him to bring me a slice of the cocai--cake too. 

[queerchoicesblog]

The Birthday Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 10/2)

Here it is the second part of chapter 10!

Guys, I'm gonna be honest with you: I'm not sure when the next one will be out: it could be Tuesday next week or in weeks from now. So consider this series on potential hiatus. I'm struggling to find words in my everyday life and writing feels quite pointless atm. Hopefully if will change soon but that's the situation atm, I'm sorry.

Little disclaimer-favor: if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Word Count: 3000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped@storyscapefanficarchive@marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako@everlastingchoices @andrxrneda @aestheticsayeed@indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff@bornonawdnsday @nazario-sayeed  @h-doodles @adele-serda@marlcasters@brightpinkpeppercorn @nightwhite13@ramenwithaspoon@michelleconnoly @charliejane-blog @ghost-of-yuri@choicesgremlin @shadeofangelus @mistressofspiesxenia@orange-elephants​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon @nydeiri

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1

_____________________ 

Returning to the party still in full swing after my stolen moment with Adele is disheartening. I guess going back to our miseries in this crazy world after experiencing a glimpse of Heaven is pretty much the same feeling. I wonder how poor Dante coped back then. A smiling waiter hands me another glass of sweet alcoholic poison and I put my mask back on, even if I struggle now. I try to distract myself and be entertained by the chirpy conversations and gossips of my guests but my mind keeps running back to her. "I know, I wish this moment didn't have to end" "We'll make our own plays. Whaddya say?" I giggle at their silly jokes and outrageous stories, I retort with witticisms out of a script but I can't hear them, not truly. I'm not here. The Zetta is, not me. I am still in my lover's company. I can only hear her soft voice, our words of love. I don't have time nor will to hear that hilarious improbable story I'll absolutely have to tell Richard or that marvellous recent scientific discovery. I smile, I fake interest and thank God -and myself- I am a great actress.

As I move to another table where Lucille is beckoning me over I look out of the window, taking in the starry sky. I'm surprised but a quick smile cross my lips when I spot Adele hanging in there with a steward I saw around the lifts. They're leaning on the railing and chatting. They look like close friends: maybe they were accidentally reunited on board or is it true what they say? Ships make fast friends. I'll ask her about him. Not out of jealousy, even if I wish I could neglect my party more and run at her side where he stands. Even if I wish I could be the one making her laugh now. I just smile at the two of them, grateful that my troubled love is in good company tonight. God knows if she doesn't need a friend and some happiness after all she went through. And I'm afraid the worst is yet to come...

I do my best to lose myself in the complicated story about a common acquaintance my friend is sharing with the ladies and it works, to some extent. At least until when Sabine comes find me and invite the whole group to stand as the waiters pick up the table moving then toward the wall to clear space. Oh, we'll have some dancing! Even the musicians are now moving to the center of the far wall to be heard best. The crowd, myself included, is delighted and in awe. As the first chords of my favorite waltz start playing, everyone is looking for their partners and hurrying to finish their drinks. I drain mine, trying not to think of how much I would love to have this dance with my love no matter how inappropriate it would sound to many here. I ditch the Baron though -that lovable shark isn't fast enough this time!- and a couple of other hopeful admirers to hold Lawrence's hand. "Shall we dance, darling?" I smile encouraged you at him. We both long for a partner we can't pick out in the sun: let our shared sorrow fade away on the note of The Blue Danube, my dear friend. Lawrence understands or so it seems by the bittersweet yet thankful smile he offers me. He reads the unwritten and hears the unspoken words too. My poor dear Lawrence... We chat like old friends as we sway among the crowd. He's not only a brilliant director but also one of the finest dancer I've ever met. He blush a little when I sing his praises and just shrugs saying he has loved dancing. Typical, humble Lawrence... He lowers his voice a little when he thanks me for inviting him to the party, "well, me and Felix". He looks touched when I assure him that I wouldn't have had it any other way, I deeply value our friendship. "Me too, Zetta. You can count on me" he beams before his melancholic smile reappears. "If we close our eyes, we're in a fancy ballroom in Vienna" he whispers, leaning close and guiding the two of us into a graceful turn. I'm about to share a memory of my youth there with him, when I was blinded by the beauty and luxury of the imperial aristocracy there when ruckus erupts from the other side of the room. Surprised cries and laughter ring as the guests stop dancing and the music ceases. "What? My party is not over yet" I playfully protest, pouting. I'm suddenly nervous. I fear the time has come: time for the squalid yet hurtful family theatrics, time for James's show. I try to find out what's going on but I can't make my way through a crowd of ladies and gentlemen stretching their necks and whispering to each other. My fears are sadly confirmed when I catch the baritone voice of the Baron saying "Good show, Miss Carrem. Getting smart with you, was he?" "I'm afraid I cannot stand overfamiliarity. I apologise for making a scene" My love's voice is a bit shaken: is it anger or fright? Concern and fury take hold of me and I shutter my jaw. Lawrence squeezes my hand and I am grateful. "It is I who should apologise, on behalf of those who call themselves gentle..." the Baron continues but James interrupts him. "Oh do be quiet!" His tone is harsh, pure drunk rage. The crowd seems to lose interest in the argument and the music resumes but I'm still wary. I know James is up to something and it's just a matter of time. "I'm sure it's nothing, Zetta. A little misunderstanding...and Miss Carrem knows how to take care of herself" It's Lawrence. I turn to him and he's smiling reassuringly down at me, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I feels so grateful for his lovable kindness right now, an anchor in a troubled sea. I nod and try to shake my bad gut feelings away. "Why don't we take a break and enjoy the waltz with a drink?" he adds, gesturing to the drink table near the window. I compliment his idea and let him guide me through the crowd. The cold her of the night cools me down and I take a long breath to soothe my nerves. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I'll be spared the drama. Unlikely but I can still hope right? I almost sink the glass of sherry Lawrence hands me, triggering a concerned look that I dismiss, claiming I'm perfectly fine. I just needed a break, I'm not twenty anymore, I grimly joke. "True Beauty never ages, dear Zetta. A beautiful soul defies the cruel compass of time" Lawrence proclaims with a smile. I ask him what poet wrote that line because I can't recollect it in the moment but I'm not surprised in the least to hear that he is the one behind that sweet thought. I pull him into a hug whispering thank you into his ear. When we part, he encourage me to make a wish. "It's your birthday, after all: isn't it a tradition in America?" he asks. I'm still considering and rambling when Felix and Sabine approach us. The party is going well and the guests are enjoying themselves. They just wanted to check in on the honeree, Felix says. Lawrence shows our empty glasses making a funny face and we all laugh. I ask about the little incident before. Felix assures me once again that it was nothing. I turn towards my little Napoleon for confirmation. "Oui, Madam. Nothing more than a quid pro quo. You know how it is. Youth" Sabine says but the look in her eyes tells a different story. "Miss Zetta, any chance you'll make an appearance in our documentary?" Felix intervenes, quickly changing the topic. "We would be most honoured" Lawrence adds, beaming. "A little tribute to one of the finest passengers of the liner" I give a soft laugh, playing with the idea. Maybe I could, after all. A quick cameo. It wouldn't take too much time. I playfully brush them off calling out their flattery but they assure they had considered it over the last few days on board. "It would be a pleasure and an honor" Felix bows. I sigh contently, my eyes wandering from one admirer and friend to the other. "Very well then, my dear friends: I'm in! Why don't we meet...let's say over breakfast or lun-" I start but I stop mid-sentence. Behind my back, an hysterical laugh echoes through the café, drawing the general attention. Conversations and music fades away and an awkward tense silence settles. Cold runs down my spine and I fear my face suddenly goes pale as I recognise the voice. Jamie. It's time. I must endure this bad farçe. I inhale sharply. You can do this, you are a great actress and you survived worst days. You survived Franz. Get ready, Zetta. On scene in three, two one... When I turn, he's stalking towards me, shirt stained with wine and an hysterical light gleaming in his bright eyes. He's dragging Adele along like a puppet. A disheartening picture compared to my fondest memories of him. "Excuse me, Aunt, I merely wished to offer a toast: my salutations on this glorious occasion and-" he exclaims, raising his glass and sloshing wine over the edges. "You interrupting to chew the cud, here, James? Get to the point" I sound a bit harsh, as if annoyed of another interruption. I roll my eyes as I would do with a problematic kid throwing a tantrum and forgetting his manners. Ironically, it's what he's doing, even if he's no longer a child. A weird, unpleasant smile crosses his face. Maybe he was expecting my reaction? "And a fond farewell to your secretary" he adds menacingly as I take a sip of sherry. I narrow my eyes at him over my glass, half annoyed, half amused. Bring it on, Jaime dear. "A farewell? And why might that be?" I see Sabine tensing up at my peripheral. James looks so pleased of himself as he takes the stage like a practiced professional. He doesn't realise he's just behaving like a pathetic buffoon to my -and most guests's -eyes. "To put it simply: Adele is a confidence woman who agreed to come abroad the Titanic to help me destroy you" "Come again?" I fake surprise as the crowd gasps and starts whispering. The attention and the look on my face renew his foolish fervor. "I brought Adele to help me ruin your marriage to Richard King, to keep him from ruining our family... For the price of her freedom, your secretary was to get close to you, discover your worst secret, and deliver it to me." He stops, making a dramatic pause. And now I know: it's the moment of truth. Time of Adele's choice. I stand, concealing my inner turmoil and fears, as the crowd basks into this unexpected juicy coup de theatre. When he speaks again, his mouth twists with a rage I've never fathomed he could hide inside. "She failed!" She...protected me? Even knowing at what cost... My eyes instinctively search Adele's but James is not done yet. "And now she'll go back to jail, where I found her" he shouts, spiralling out of control but loud enough to be heard by everyone. At the word "jail", the crowd utters a collective gasp. He wants to publicly humiliate her since he can't get what he was looking for. Because she dared refuse him the key to my ruin. I wish I could just drop the act and slap some sense into him. What pains me most is seeing him succeeding, to some extent. Adele is frowning under that low blow. I throw glares at everyone taking a step back from her as if she suddenly turned into a criminal or an insect. Miserable bastards... My love proves herself to be superior to all this, again. She straightens up and addresses the crowd, providing explanations she doesn't owe to any of us" "I was arrested for public disruption at a protest for women's rights. I'm not proud of having been jailed, but I'm not ashamed of what I was fighting for" she says, grimacing. Then she looks at me and I smile at her, hoping to convey all my respect, deepest affection and admiration for my sweet brave revolutionary. Let me help you now, my angel. I turn towards James and my smile loses all its warmth. "Bravo, James. You're quite the schemer" I knew he would be confused. I'll deny you something too, Jaime. You won't get an ounce of the despair you wanted. You won't see me crying and crumble under your betrayal: I'm not a Julius Caesar stumbling underneath your dagger. "That's all you have to say? You've been played. She was hired to ruin your marriage-" "She was, wasn't she?" I cut him short. "But she has a conscience, and a lot of courage" I take a pause before smiling again, cold and victorious. "Adele told me all about your terrible plan" His jaw drops and his rosy cheeks pale. He grabs Adele's arm and starts drunkly ramble again. "You - what? No. This doesn't change anything. I'll take you back-" This time Adele interrupts him, spitting the harsh truth right in his face. "Your only power was your wealth, and now that's gone. Along with the trust of your only relative" He releases her and I wonder if he finally realised what a fool, what an ungrateful fool he has been. Adele's right, James. When he turns to me, a desperate look on his face, I brace myself for his tears. Him begging for a forgiveness I'm not sure I will ever be able to give him. Apparently, I haven't learned my lesson: men can't be trusted. Men will always lie to you. "She's the one blackmailing me" Adding insult to injury, Jamie dear? "No, James. She's not" I'm cold and firm, despite the heartbreak I feel growing inside me. "You'll value the word of this secretary over your own blood?" His disbelief quickly turns into rage again. "I value my own sense, James; your plotting was plain as that smirk on your face" My voice is sharp: yes, I want to hurt him just like he hurt me. I want him to feel ashamed and sorry for what he did to me, to Adele. My sharp retort provokes some nervous giggles soon silenced in our audience. I sense fury building up inside him until it explodes. He bangs on the table with his fist, making everyone jump. "I'll get to Hileni, then, I'll hold her, I'll make you tell Zetta's secret-" Is he even speaking to Adele or...to himself? Honestly, I cannot tell. And I'm grateful to Matteo for intervening. I don't know what he's whispering into his ear but it seems to work. James seems to remember himself. For a split second, sadly. He straightens his cuffs and gives us all a tight, cruel smile. "Off to send word to the authorities, then" he says and turns to Adele and me. "As I said before, say your goodbyes" Then he walks away as the unabashed crowd part the way for his supposed grand exit. When he's out of the room, the guests are puzzled, unsure of what they just witnessed. They look at each other asking the neighbour or their partner what our family farçe was. I'm afraid this is just the beginning of another sorrow but the worst is gone. For the night, at least. I let out a long, exhausted sigh: God knows if it wasn't tough but I can breathe now. We can breathe again. And plan a counter attack to his pathetic scheme. I instinctively reach for her hand and take it into mine, uncaring of the crowd around us. "I didn't think the boy would actually do it" Yes, I tried to convince myself of that. I wanted to believe that he was apparently better than he actually is, that he wouldn't stoop so low...but what is my life if not a collection of disappointments from men? "Should I be worried?" There's a hint of concern in Adele's voice. I can't blame her: I don't recognise my nephew anymore, I can hardly tell how seriously we should consider his threats. "I doubt it, but he's not to be underestimated when his pocketbook is in peril" I know my answer offers little comfort but I continue, squeezing her hand to prove my loyalty to her: "Whatever he tries, though, I'll be by your side" Adele smiles down to our hands before meeting my eyes again. "I have faith in you, Zetta. Thank you" Despite I can see more than understandable concerns and fears written all over her face, she squeezes my hand back. I take a deep breath. The weight of the latest events is washing over me. "I'm going to retire to my room and prepare a message to my lawyers. If anyone can figure out a way to  keep you out of jail, it's them" "Are you certain?" I give my love a sad smile. "There's little certain in this life, sweetheart, but lawyers with a high hourly rate? They're as close as we'll get" We just smile at my little mot d'esprit. "This wasn't exactly the soirée I wanted, but I suppose the truth had to come out sometime." I continue. I look at her in the eye as I add: "You're a true friend, Adele" I lean towards her so only she can hear. "And I'll wait up for you tonight, if you'd like" Please come find me later, my love. We will find a way to keep you out of trouble, we'll meet the dawn if need be and forget our sorrows and the unpleasantness of this soirée in each other arms. To my surprise, Adele wraps her around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. It takes me a moment to process it but I've never felt closer to tears. Surrounded by the familiar warmth of her body. I know someone is probably, surely staring with a bit of curiosity and malice after the melodrama we offered for free tonight but I don't care. Not now. So I hug her back and give a quick gentle stroke to her cheek as I part. After one last lingering weak smile at her, I gesture Sabine that it's time for our retreat. With the last ounce of strength left in me to keep my act on, I wave diplomatically at the gossiping guests and take my leave, my little Napoleon in tow. The show's over, lads. The show's over...

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Master plan

Request: Felix has to go on a mission and pan wants y/n to go with him, so when Felix wants to go to tell her, he accidentally walks in when she changes into her night clothes and he is instantly turned on but also embarrassed. Of course Y/N will react shocked and pushes him out but afterwards both start to think about each other a lot and and things will get less akward bc they are alone. Maybe they start making out and Felix takes her against a tree.

Pairing: Felix x reader

Warning: suggestive

*I'm making two part of this*

Night fell on the small, magical island, dotting the dark navy blue sky with bright, twinkling stars. Once again the notorious Pan was tucked away in his wooden tree house, researching, plotting, trying to come up with a master plan in order to become immortal. The king of Neverland grinned from ear to ear as his eyes shrinked to the size of slits, he finally had an answer to the question he had been asking himself for so long, how to freeze the hour glass.

Tightly gripped in his hands was the ancient pages of the oldest book in all the realms, squiggly black writing stared back at him, giving him all the knowledge he needed. Discarding the "true loves kiss" part, that seemed to be written out neatly in every book he had read so far, there was an alternative, another way. The heart of the truest believer, a person with a soul as pure as gold and a mind full of imagination, that was what he needed. To Pan's surprise there was a tea stained page dangling helplessly from the spine of the old book, deciding to take the poor thing out of its misery the boy wrapped his fingers around it before giving a light tug. It fell out with ease, flipping it over to reveal what was on the other side. Evergreen eyes dance over the page, taking in the features of the dark haired boy that seemed to be scribbled on it.

Cogs slowly started to turn in the leaders head, the only thing on the page was a drawing and a date, 15.8.01. He racked his brain for answers, what did this mean? And that's when it all clicked, the boys birthday was neatly written out under his portrait, now Pan knew who he was looking for and when he was born, perfect.

"Felix!" Pans voiced boomed through camp as he came flying out of his tree house at the speed of light, scaring off any animal or creature that dared to step foot near his domain while he searched for his second in command.

Silently, Felix stalked over to his boss, clutching his wooden club between his rough hands. Stormy blue eyes met emerald green ones as the leaders blonde counterpart towered over his body like a sky scraper.

“There’s something I need you to do for me.” A menacing smirk crawled onto the Kings lips, meanwhile the second in command awaited to hear what news his friend had to tell him.

“What is it?” The lost boys quite, low voice inquired.

As Pan explained his idea to him a sinister grin started to form on Felix’s pink lips, his messy blonde hair whipped about in the refreshing wind as his listened with interest.

“There’s just one thing.” The leader trailed off, “Y/n will need to come with you, she is more experienced when it comes to realms with no magic.”

The golden glow that painted Felix’s sharp features hid his blush well at the sound of your name, he was surprised that just the thought of their one and only lost girl could make him feel butterfly's. For a while the boy had contemplated over and over again what it was he truly felt for you, was it just some stupid little crush that would leave as quickly as it came, or was it something more? As the days stretched into months the lost boy came to the conclusion that he, in fact, liked you, a lot.

But alas, Felix had a reputation to uphold, not just for Pan’s sake, but for your sake too. Pan had always told the boys that love is weakness, and they were not weak, if Hook caught wind of Felix’s little crush, you were sure to be in danger.

"I'll go and let her know." The lost boy spoke in his usual monotone voice before making his way over to your tree house.

Silently, he climbed the rickety ladder, banging his knuckles against the wooden door before wrapping his fingers around the door knob, the cold metal sending an uncomfortable shiver through Felix's hand as he pushed the wooden slab open.

"Hey Y/n, Pan wants-" He froze in place as his sharp features turned as white as paper.

There you were, beautiful as ever and the most exposed Felix had ever seen you. Your flesh was on display whilst his eyes wondered over your body, drinking up the sight of your collarbone, boobs, stomach, all the way down to your lacy panties that clung to you ass nicely.

The boy would be lying if he said he wasn't hard right now, imagining all the things he could do to you. Smirking to himself he imagined what you would look like beneath him, the way you would cry out in pleasure because of his actions. Shaking his head, the lost boy snapped out of his trance, those thoughts were stored in the back of his mind, for now.

The lonely candle in the corner of the room illuminated your tiny cabin, casting everything in a burnt orange glow as it painted your skin. Your red cheeks had not been covered up by the candle light, instead the soft honey colour seemed to make your brick dusted face pop.

Desperately, you fumbled around the room, rushing to pick up the daisy coloured night gown which had fallen on the floor the minute the blonde, lost boy barged in.

"S-sorry! I-I didn't-" Felix tried his absolute hardest to tear his icy eyes away from your wonderful body, forcing himself to look away, yet somehow he always found his eyes floating back to you as you impatiently threw the dress on your exposed flesh.

"You can look now." Your quiet voice soured through the air before tunneling into his ears.

Turning to face you he couldn't help but picture what you looked like just mere seconds before.

Awkwardly shuffling, your eyes were glued to your feet, too embarrassed to meet the boys gaze, meanwhile he was struggling to keep his off you, as your finger nails trailed up and down your arm.

"So, anyways" Felix let out an awkward cough, "As I was saying, Pan wants you to come on a mission with me."

Your e/c eyes widened in shock at his words, your head snapped up meeting the second in commands gaze as if you were challenging him.

"He-he wants me to come with you?" You asked, almost sounding afraid, but Felix couldn't quite understand why.

"Um, yeah." He shrugged simply, "were leaving tomorrow, so pack up everything you need."

With that the second in command swiftly exited your humble abode, rushing out of the door before closing it quietly behind him.

Lurking in the dark part of Felix's mind the sound of your moans filled his ears, he wanted you so bad, but he couldn't have you. Suddenly he found himself becoming more and more excited for this trip of yours.

Morning came quicker than you would've liked, all night you had been shamefully pleasing yourself after that little run in with Pan's most trusted lost boy, which had left you all hot and bothered. The though of facing him made your stomach churn guilt-fully, was it wrong to think if him like that? You had been friends for years and you had came to terms with the fact that you liked him, but you had never done anything like that before.

"All packed to go?" Pan's haunting voice popped up out of no where, causing you to jump out of your skin.

Silently, you nodded as his best friend came into view, your once normal cheeks flashed red. The pair exchanged some parting words while the leader placed a forest green jelly bean into Felix's hand, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Its a magic bean." The two boy's laughed at your reaction, what do we need a magic bean for?

Without saying a word the lost boy dropped it on the floor, the ground started to swirl, all kinds of wonderful colours blended together as the wind violently whipped around us. Howling filled your ears as your hair was permanently stuck in front of your face.

"You ready?" The tall boy checked and you nodded in reply before jumping in.

Everything went black, you couldn't feel anything as your soul was plunged into darkness before your e/c eyes opened once again. You brain pounded against your skull, the sound of zooming cars filled you ears as your eyes snapped open, taking in your surroundings.

"Are we?" You asked the tall blonde boy who sat beside you.

"In your world, yes." He confirmed your suspicions.

"Pan has some... friends here, they can help us." A sinister tone masked his voice on the word 'friends' as you begin to grow worried, who exactly were these people?

With a screech of tires and an array of smoke, a cherry red convertible car halted before the tow of you, the harsh beam of the headlights made your head spin as your eyes adjusted to the light . Unfamiliar characters sat in the front seats, the taller of the two was driving. His glasses sat on his slightly crooked nose while his bronze coloured hair swooped across his chocolate eyes. The other was shorter, his brown eyes stared into your e/c ones intently as his short, dark brown hair whipped around in the air.

Without opening his tightly shut mouth, Felix climbed into the car, you awkwardly followed his lead, still not entirely sure why you were here.

Revving filled the air as you spun off down the road, instinctively holding onto the blonde boy next to you. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto him for dear life, if it weren't for the wind forcing his hair in his face you would've seen the light pink tint on his cheeks as your hand found his.

The feeling of your skin on his causing the boys to have a whirl wind of emotions. The only thought that consumed his mind was you, the way you looked when he had accidentally walked in your cabin without a second thought, and oh boy is Felix glad he made that mistake. All night and all day you were you were the only thing that played on his mind, it was no lie that the lost boy found you attractive, that much was evident from his boner, which he was unaware was sticking through his trousers, but his feelings for you went a little deeper than that. Yes, he wanted to touch and please you like no one else had done before, he wanted to tie you down and make you scream but he also wanted to make you smile and hear you melodic laugh. You didn't know it yet and Felix didn't know it ether, but you are each others worlds.

Thankfully that car ride was short and sweet, coming to a stop rather quickly as a grand house came into view. The Victorian styled building looked like it was a relic frozen in time, lush green vines scaled up the red bricked walls while white, laced trimming clung to the roof. Golden lights were switched on in almost every room, making the house feel like one gigantic doll house to play with until your hearts content.

The strange men stepped out of the car, not saying a word as their keys clicked together before opening the old door. Although the exterior of the house was looked ancient the interior was modern and sleek, not fitting in with the ear of the house at all.

"I'll take you to your room." The taller ones deep voice bounced off the walls.

"Room?" You inquired, suddenly you felt your face grow hot at the idea of shearing a room with the second in command, especially after last night.

Swiftly turning around on his heel the strangers honey coloured eyes sought out your e/c one, "Yes, room." He confirmed before rushing off up the stairs, you and Felix trying you best to keep up with the fast moving boy.

By the time the two of you traveled up to the top at such a fast pace you were out of breath, lightly panting as the wooden door of your room creaked open.

The room was small, but lovely, a large white window sat on the right hand wall, allowing the street light to flood into the room. A double bed sat along the back wall, little side table standing ether side of it while a large oak wood wardrobe was sat in the corner of the room. With a flick of a switch the room became flooded with soft honey coloured light, comfortably reminding you of your candles back in Neverland.

“I’ll leave you two it.” The tall man spoke, his monotone voice lingered in the air as he walked away, leaving you and Felix alone in the little room.

“I...I guess we should get some sleep.” The boy stated, his hot breath traveled down your neck, tickling the hairs as they stood tall and proud.

You found yourself speechless, no words managed to fall past your lips, slowly you raised your head, peering into the boys eyes before giving a slight nod.

His footstep echoed through the room as he went to close the curtains, but you found yourself stuck in place, unable to move but not sure why. e/c orbs were glued to Felix, the way he moved around the room before turning his back on you whilst he undid his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Pink dust coated your cheeks as you watched him, but you still weren’t able to look away. Neck, he lifted his arms high above is head in an act to remove this shirt, his muscly back was slowly revealed to you as though his shirt there the curtain at a theater.

“It’s rude to stare.” The lost boy joked, while you jumped back, surprised, embarrassed and shocked, how did he know?

Turning to face you, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his bare chest no matter how hard you tried, “S-sorry, I... I didn’t mean-”

The second in command smiled to himself as you stumbled over your words, oh how the tables have turned, he thought.

“Relax.” He spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder, the slight contact made you melt under his touch whilst your body instantly relaxed, “Let’s just get some sleep.”

Still as hot as you had ever been you found yourself climbing into bed with the second in command before he turned out the lights, wrapping yourself up in the warm covers as if to make a mini barrier from him, but you would be a fool if you though that was going to stop him.

The feeling of his skin touching yours as he lay down lit a fire inside you, the blush on your cheeks got worse and worse as time went by.

“I need some covers too you know.” Felix chuckled. 

Not a single word tumbled past your lips, not a single one, as you slyly moved over to the other side, allowing him access to the quilt. You didn’t realize how much room he had taken up until you felt his chest flush up against your back.

Turning around in the covers your eyes sought out his, peering deep into them. No words were exchanged as you looked into each others eyes, you felt his hand on your chin, bringing your face closer and closer to his.

You were stuck in a trance, a blissful daze as his lips met yours and you found yourself kissing back, you had wanted this for so long and so did he. You seemed to get lost in the kiss, not being able to pull yourself away.

In one smooth motion the second in command bought you on top of him, all the while never breaking the kiss that the two of you shared. The rest of the night was spent with the two of you between the sheets, clothes long since forgotten as you got lost in each others bodies.

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

I got it up! I'm sorry if you dont think it's as good as my stories usually are, the ending was a little rushed (sorry)!

I hope you enjoyed it! 🥰❤😍 xxxxx

@nevereverlandboys @lady-of-lies @lonesome-loser @celestial-neverland

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

Black Survival characters as RTgame quotes

i have a new way to fill a day when i don’t know what headcanon i could use:special posts

~

Adela: (Check) There’s a check. Keep popping them in check. (Check) (Check) (Check) 

Adriana: Radical has taken the burgle land really to heart and he’s just setting fire to the forest.

Alex: Hey bro you want some tequila? (yeets tequila bottle at a guy)

Arda:(writes down “Mom i’m sorry”) Good start.

Aya: You cant escape the law! I have the ability to teleport! Don’t make me finger gun you!

Barbara: Well, that was a fast midlife crisis. Happy birthday! Midlife Crisis time!

Bernice: (holds a guy’s face) Ned, I... never said this, but sometimes when I look into your eyes- NO, DON’T, COME BACK HERE-

Bianca: These are all, just, like, weird planet names. Like, Zoton, Cropin, Cragos. Draarendy...? Perotex, m- (laughs) wait, WAIT WAIT- Wait that was just the poor man’s Mars, come on. That last one was just Mares. Could you name all the planets in the solar system? Oh we got earth, venus, saturn, Mares- (written in 10/7 so we’ll see how this ages once bianca gets released, maybe she won’t be the same gimmick as jackie)

Camilo: “It’s just, all those years ago... It was so hard-” Oh no. “I didn’t know how to raise Sarah alone.” Hey ned, let’s do some more dancing! (dances) Doooo doo doo do doo dododo! Haa haa haaa!

Cathy: ‘S a little bit pricy, but fuck it! I don’t know how to play Monopoly, let’s go!

Chiara: “This is the man in question, Edward Romsey. A teacher once, would you believe?” But then he forgot to buy Dosney related products.

Daniel: “Barbara just discovered how to make a Grim Reaper Snowman”... (looks at snowman with a black cape and a scythe) Oh Gooood.

Echion: (fuckboy voice) They call it... The Fortnite, the new violent shooter from Epic Games Studios that kids are dropping out of school to play.

Eleven: I made the smoothie! I made the smoothie! (car crashes)

Eva: Heart’s desires... (reading out options, starts laughing) “to be tall”!

Emma: (petting the side of someone’s head) Stroke him gently.

Fiora: Now remember your training, guys, big circle-shape swings, okay, you wanna try to get a figure A motion, okay? If you remember that, nothing will go wrong in an actual fight. And remember to have fun, it’s an important part of the experiment. (whacks everyone in a row in a few seconds) Who’s next?

Hart: (playing guitar) I call this little ditty Wonderwall. You may not have heard it before.

Hyejin: You’re supposed to click evacuate BEFORE the disaster happens!

Hyunwoo: What could a dog have possibly done to go to jail?!

Isol: Can I take your handgun? This loaded? ....Pal, do you have any ammo? I’m trying to fire this handgun in your store. I’m gonna take this with me, thank you.

Jackie: Oh no, not this again. We did this two years ago, I’m not doing it again! -It’s happening again. I thought I was finished playing Groundhog Day!

Jan: This man unironically says epic, I don’t know if we can trust him.

Jenny: Are there any controls I might have? (the plane starts going down) Oh, B just stalls the engine.

JP: Thanks to VR, I can now be more gay than normal.

Lenox: I’m trying to do big brain plays here, but I’m not a smart woman!

Leon: We have seven thousand viewers for Wii Sports, and we’re top ten on Twitch- wh- why are people here-

Li Dailin: You know how in like, the third Harry Potter, the night’s bus takes Harry to Hogwarts? Like, the leaky cauldron, and... you’re not really sure how he’s dodging all these cars?

Luke: I’ll be, like, sleeping tonight, i’ll be waking up in a cold sweat, and be like “Good air!” His soul has been trapped in Wii Sports since 2009, he hasn’t been able to leave this game. ‘I wonder if the voice actor talks like this in real life as well’. Could you just imagine if he has a wife and kids, and the trainer’s like... (enthusiastically) ‘Good morning!’ ‘Darling, it’s-it’s been like nine years since Wii Sports Resort voiceover.’ ‘I know, right?’ ‘Like, you have to talk like a normal human being again! You can’t just keep putting the family through this!’ ‘Nice air!’ ‘WE’VE TALKED ABOUT THIS! WE’RE NOT IN THE AIR!’

Magnus: (somehow breaks glass by grabbing it) My hands are bleeding terribly.

Mai: “Alice, I want to speak to your manager.” Dude, it’s just coffee. It’s just coffee. ....He’s a karen, isn’t he? (points at him) You’re a karen.

Nadine: (shoots at the bullseye) I’m already a pro. Look at that. Watch me get it again. (shoots at the bullseye again)

Nathapon: (writes down ‘hi my name is Oole’) Always important to put your name on your notebook. You know, just in case you lose it.

Nicky: (swinging wii remote wildly towards mii) Why won’t... you die?! (game starts) Oh that was practice-

Rio: Do you wanna be that guy who reads everything on Wikipedia? Play this game.

Rosalio: Oh jesus- oh, I didn’t expect for there to be consequences-

Rozzi: (jumping off a plane with a parashoot, people start locking hands with the avatar) Lose ‘em, lose ‘em! (shakes wildly to get them away) Get ‘em off me! Get ‘em off me!

Shoichi: ‘Ey Daithi, how much would it cost for me to buy that off ya?’ ‘Uh, one thousand, one hundred and forty- (amount of money changes) Oh sorry, just changed! One thousand, one hundred and twenty nine.’ ‘You’re gonna leave me with a dollar.’ ‘Yep.’

Silvia: (Picks up a gun) Is it loaded? (points it at herself and pulls the trigger repeatedly) Doesn’t appear to be.

Sissela: “Pulmonary oedema”... I can’t even pronounce it, that sounds really bad.

Sua: Oh my god, bless his heart. Ross Bob just came back from the dead to feed the cat. He’s actually the sweetest man alive. 

William: They all keep saying “I’d love to stick around but I gotta go”. They don’t- they don’t have a say in this

Xiukai: Why did the donut cause me to hallucinate so badly??

Yuki: “Fix everything and leave”. I need that button IRL. Fix everything and leave.

Zahir: (accidentally drops glass) I appear to be struggling. (looks around and grabs a tiny drink umbrella) Would you like an umbrella?

[curious-minx]

Heat Lamp vol. [i]

A how-to guide on harnessing the very best light for your under-lit overly priced hovel! In Style!

“Lighting is everything, you goon!” spits Magda Marlene, and, of course, she’s absolutely correct.

“Don’t call me a goon, Magda! I’m trying my best. Have you ever tried shopping around for the best possible lights? Of course not. The challenge of conceiving of wattage and luminosity in the abstract blue light tech etching our basic human retinas will never compete with the likes of you. “ Elroy wipes away the trail of verbiage slipping down his prominent jawline. He attempts to grab at Magda to make her take him seriously, but it was impossible, because after all she is enshrouded in light. She is the kind of bruising overwhelming beauty that is perpetually well lit. Magda has endured a panorama of over stuffed suits of testosterone tossing off a clip of one-liners about her “lighting up a room,” because she had already brightened her entire surrounding vicinity. Light seeping out as far as several stories above and below whatever apartment is lucky enough to grace her presence. You had to alert your local neighboring Vampire’s of someone like Magda coming around. To forget would be akin to a hate crime. 

“I do take pity on you sallow beef man. You are close, so close I can nearly taste your success, but this lack of suitable lighting! This will  be your ruin. That’s what all the Entertainment and Arts are all about-,”

“Yes, the lighting! The wonderful bright, but not too bright lighting. I know Magda. Ugh! I much prefer if we go back to when you would stick to sending me laymen articles on the anatomy of human eyeballs and the latest breakthroughs in light-based therapy, but now all I hear is your dogmatic barking.” 

“You sure do talk a lot for a layman. Why did you want to touch me? Don’t tell me you’re starved for human contact!” 

“Of course not! Don’t be foolish! You know I’m not attracted to you. It’s the only reason why you even bother gracing me with your infernal light. Why won’t you sell some of your light source already?”

“Oh no no no, not this this again. I will have no further discussion about the selling off of my light.” 

“You won’t share your light, you won’t sell your light, but all I ever hear you go on and on about is the importance of light! Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?” Elroy tries sizing Magda up and all around with his big soulful hazel  brown dopey puppy dog eyes. 

“What is this, ‘on and on’ slander? That’s a complete and total falsity! I barely even talk to you! You asked me to come over and help you pick out a new light. Yet here you stand insulting me and everything I represent. I knew all men were trash! I really wanted a reciprocal  easy going friendship receptacle. Like the ones you see on flashy American sitcoms, but no! Instead you reek of man boy desperation. You are not Easy Elroy, nor are you sleazy enough to warrant a pass. Good day!” And with that Magda leaves Elroy in his room. A room that is painted a banana baby sick off-scrambled eggs shade of yellow that made Elroy think of himself as a “warmed over Simpson” whenever he looks at himself with his overhead lights on. Magda leaves him behind so that she can go attend a life devoid of preening men devoid of any elevated levels of cognitive stimulus. Magda had a strong feeling deep inside that being eaten out by Elroy would feel either like the confectionary sugar clinging to a beater or a cow pondering the universe with a cud.  Magda has bigger prospects to attend such as the purchasing of a new Ultrasonic Television, a television for people too interesting to own a regular television. Now this is a process more grueling than picking out some sort of pathetic LED lights set out to emphasize poor life choices. 

Magda’s candles burn ferociously for the scented perfume wick of her occasional beaux Hillary. Oh sweet sister Hillary.  Magda flips a dizzy spell as she gets behind the wheel of her space craft. In the driver’s seat she grabs and teases pinching caresses onto her sides, hands running underneath her shirt and imagines Hillary’s hazy visage.  Magda turns on The Quick’s Mondo Deco, the album is lodged into the fourth track already, “Hillary.” The porto-phrenetic ASMR zipper crunch! The perfect symmetry of a song making sense for the right woman in the right space and time. Magda wishes she could be some special somebody’s Kim Fowley. She knew she has the making of a Valkyrie companion. Mostly a bottom, but occasionally there’s a switch…a candy striped hypnosis stick being cradled in Magda’s hand turns her space craft into autopilot. The space craft assumes a sensible soaring speed, sharing the sky with all the other avians and sky ships. Magda lands onto the fetid grassless knoll where she finds the manor of Scent Maven Monique. A west coast equivalent of a Hobbit Hole in the Hills. Except instead of a 5,7” English gentleman it is a 5,7” Black American bohemian scientist woman. Magda lights up one of Monique’s Pixie Stix a jolt of nicotine, THC, estrogen, nootropicals, and most importantly caffeine. Cigarettes that don’t make you smell like cigarettes, that don’t make you smell like anything, but a hint, a wink, a whisper, and a prayer of exotic bubblegum. 

A Vaping Assassin is prowling on her rooftop. Antonia, The Daycrawler, of course. A woman so intimidating in strength and beauty that all law officers around the country worship at her talon toes. Lines of swat teams, cops, and military official personally see fit the they get their asses beaten by Antonia’s hand each and every year at The National Cop Christmas Party. Monique is constantly alienating, offending and inspiring everyone she works with, but they usually only send soft assassins like Soy Hands Flannigan or the Detangler. Magda believes that this must be the opening salvo of a new killer regime. 

“Quit your daydreaming Magda Marlene! Are you really about to let me red rover your special number one gal? I am dropping through the ceiling now! Catch ya later!” Antonia is always narrating her actions to her blind brother Donovan who makes glass sculptures for an assassin’s memento. Some assassins keep locks of hair, some assassins keep emails, some assassins bond and indulge their impotent’s brother pop art. The giant blocky neon green rotary telephone with each notch designed with a mysterious suggestion of a dreary person. A lot of guilt trips about being sent to  mental institutions and the occasional rainbow clamshell birth control pill case. All glass blown by the Daycrawler’s blind and naive brother. Monique doesn’t stand a chance! 

“Oh no,” mouths Magda. She’s going to be vaporized by that tall Nordic pillar of mayhem. Quentin Tarantino might as well be hanging himself up here on Monique’s roof turning himself into the human satellite, beaming this impeding cyclone of beautiful woman on beautiful woman violence for all of his cronies to see. “Not today,” mouths Magda. With a flick of her wrist, bracelets of light begin forming and overlapping. Discs of light coursing up and down Magda’s forearm. Magda then hides her arms underneath her long and flowing cherry blossom trench coat. Magda’s light does not instantly light up the rest of Monique’s abode. Antonia is hiding her frustration and she looks around Monique’s mostly spacious and poorly lit living quarters. Seeing only a completely stainless steel coated mini-kitchen and a chest level table top. No chairs. No other furniture or trace of personality. Magda hopes that this cat and mouse game will grow less cheesy and the Daycrawler will soon leave irate and hungry. 

“Aha! You got me good Light Bright. Of course you knew she wasn’t here and distracted me. For such good work I will personally see to killing you myself. I haven’t murdered anyone in over twelve hours. Do you know how rusty an assassin can get in that time? First, I must take a shower. Surely this lab rat has some sort of hose or bucket and pulley system to wash herself?”Antonia begins sizing up the space, trying to squint a bathroom into existence. 

“I believe her bathroom is right next the front door. You must have accidentally passed in when you were getting yourself worked up into this bloodlust.” Magda suddenly feels completely at ease. Yes, she could easily blind and frankly obliterate this toned and blonde killing machine. Doesn’t matter though, because Magda realizes that she has this whole ordeal in her pocket and it’s only a matter of Antonia getting into that shower. Magda goes to raise her fist in conquest but then meets resistance. Antonia’s silent rope snakes! They are giving Magda the world’s most cold blooded group hug. Magda knows she must submit to the plan. She grimaces feeling the ridges of her teeth and wait to unleash her light show. 

////

Antonia has been in the shower for over and hour and half. Magda is only now starting to bruise because the rope snakes have grown lethargic and weak ever since the water started. The rope snakes are clinging on to Magda out of obligation and lethargy. The water stops and a shrill elongated sigh is heard from the bathroom. Antonia, the Daycrawler, emerges from heavy plump clouds of perfumed steam. Magda thinks she can detect a hint of Ceylon Cinnamon and gun smoke, but you can never tell with Monique and her smells. Antonia is a lot drier than you would expect for someone who has ostensibly been bathing for the past two hours and she is wearing an oversized clumsy kimono with her hair wrapped up in a towel. 

“Alright, where is she?” Antonia asks in a voice that is almost saccharine and faint. 

“She’s clearly not here. Let’s revisit the fact that you were going to behead me as a house warming gift. How about instead you rob me of one of my kidneys? They are oozing with glow-stick fluid, but they never stop glowing! Please don’t kill me!” Magda says fully aware that Antonia is not going to kill, at least not while she’s so fresh out of the shower. 

“That’s what I need to talk to her about. I suddenly no longer have my urge to kill! Not you, you, or anyone else ever again!”says Antonia breathless like she is hearing her voice for the first time.

“I thought you were killing out of profession?”

Antonia crouches down and is almost blushing as she asks, “Why are you still on the floor like that? Can’t you not fry us up some rope snake snacks? Or wait! Are you like me and need the sunlight to fully operate?” Antonia begins opening up every window and even trying to create new windows in Monique’s house to let the light in. 

“Fine! I’ll do it! You made me do it!” Magda unleashes her light that sets off as a retina unfriendly supernova. The light charged specifically around her arms were even still lit up and racing to be shot off as blades of light into the nearest surface. 

“See? That’s wasn’t so bad! Why do you get so…so conservative about using your light whenever you’re around me?”

“I don’t want to end up blinding or hurting anyone.” Magda says still on the ground facing onto Monique’s steel plated sterile floors. 

“Even someone who was moments ago trying to kill your friend and you for the thrill of murder?”

“Your an easy target Daycrawler,” Magda gathers herself back up into a standing stance,” You are exactly the type that would change your mind if given half a chance. I still feel like you could plunge your famous ribbon blade into my personal generator… ” Magda trails off realizing that Antonia is no longer listening to her. She is still running her reformed(?) killer’s hands through her honey flaxen unwieldy tower of hair that only a towering murderess could support. 

“That shampoo it’s, it’s going to help a lot of people. I’m waiting to see the catch. Like with her cancer-free candy cigarettes they’re too good to be true, right?”Antonia takes in another long inhalation of her own hair and takes one lock and flecks her tongue only at the tip of the follicle. The one blank wall inside Monique’s apartment spins around revealing Monique on the other side who steps up and says without missing a beat:

“They’re called Pixie Stix!” Monique fully emerges from her illusion wall hiding the hint of a laboratory.  She lights up a Pixie stick of her own which begins flooding the spartan space. Who needs furniture when you bask in a smell this sweet? Magda lets her guard down and lights up the rest of the space turning the formerly drab and empty hovel into a chic and spacious boutique. “Lighting!” Continues Monique, “With the right lights and an overwhelming pungent odor reveals the path to an enveloping inner peace. No matter how small or unfashionable your home or hovel happens to be there could possibly be an outlet for a chosen few people that the three of us could use to build our own society or something?” Monique turns on music by malodorous mall core cyborg nu metal pop band called Neon Betty Degenerates. Antonia goes over to Monique and gently forces Monique’s bangled and gloved clammy hand into a boisterous hand shake. A Kashmir blossom shaped pin attached to Monique’s vegan leather newsboy cap opens up and contracts. The blossom is spraying out a mist invisible to the human eyes, directed into Antonia’s face. Antonia then immediately releases Monique and she turns away from the gangly scientist, she unravels the towel from her hair and starts sprinting outside of Monique’s house. Antonia begins climbing up the lone ancient hundreds of feet tall redwood tree watching over Monique’s property. Antonia climbs up to the tree in record time, she is nothing but a blur of momentum and rustling branches. Antonia, the Daycrawler, jumps out into the sky with the grace of a flying squirrel leaving her nest, and she’s reached enough height so that she can use the heel of her shoe to write, “I’m sorry! <3 I will work on respecting your personal space” in a cloud-based font. 

Magda turns to Monique who has completely flipped open her furtive laboratory, revealing the glow of scent analysis technology calling out to Magda begging her to crank up the wattage. Before submerging back into her lab, Monique turns to Magda and tells her, “Antonia is seemingly the only person my Perfumed Personality is working on. Do you think that will be enough?” Monique directs this question more to the ether than to anyone in particular. 

“Looks like it’s really working on her though. Oh right, before you leave. I am going through this really tough crush on someone and was hoping that you’d have some-“ Magda stops talking. Monique enters her lab leaving Magda behind in the empty kitchen and the lingering vapors of the ethical strawberry and lavender pacifist shampoo. Magda knows that she probably won’t see Monique emerge back out from her work for another two weeks at the latest. Magda shivers and steps outside and all of her pent up light energy continues bursting forth from her navel, banners of light shooting from her forehead, spotlights dancing out of each of her fingertips. Magda’s light even causes the clouds that Antonia used as calligraphy to break into a sweat. The extreme daylight and the small patch of rain causes a family of foxes to burst forth from out of the ground and carry on a quick and sweet wedding. Magda climbs on top of a dune and watches the wedding ceremony from afar. She remembers Hillary and groans, a sticky and somber sound. Magda has her revery broken by the sound of a voice calling from below the dune.

“cOuld yOu pleeze take Our picha, lamp lady? Da lurvely cOupa wOuld be sO grateful!!” The source of the voice is coming from an approaching silver fox who has a slight wobble in his gait. Magda looks at the silver fox further and notices that he also has two plastic and springy legs. Magda not wanting to seem judgmental, sighs and takes the fox’s hefty Kodiak bridge cam and without even taking time to focus the lens takes the picture. The newly wedded couple and the silver fox open up the camera’s finder and look at the results and start panting in approval. They have never seen themselves look so well lit before. 

“Daddy! You must pay this kind lady Beacon mucho ancient coins! I’ve never looked this good!” Magda smiles and shakes her head and puts her hands into her pockets, leaving the foxes behind. She readjusts her trench coat and puts on a large wide-brimmed blackout hat she keeps in a box shaped fanny pack. Even while wearing her light suppression accessories each and every passing streetlamp emits a powerful sphere of light that dims with each of Magda’s passing step. Most of the houses in Magda’s neighborhood are heavily tranquilized and sleeping in deprivation tanks so the dramatic light fluctuations don’t bother most. One overhead apartment pulls back its drapes and an angry shirtless and chiseled man has taken out a mirror and trying to reflect the light back down at the street. The power of the light’s heat creates another pothole into the road, which causes the man to start swearing and yelling incoherently. Magda kneels down onto the empty sidewalk and rubs her palms together causing the street lights to dim back down to their normal level. Magda’s face looks pale and she begins moving at a slower pace.

“Damn…I’m so close. Being mindful of so many people really sucks. I think I’m going to lie down in this pile of moss and maybe I’ll wake up back in my bed.” Magda hums a lullaby to herself and begins folding herself into a ball of fading light. Magda is blacking out.

///

She opens up her eyes as soon as she registers motion. Magda is being carried in somebody’s arms! Magda almost cranks up her internal light furnace but then she smells the tangy coconut cologne of Elroy. 

“What did I tell you about picking up tramps?” Asks Magda with a yawn. “Put me down you goon!” Elroy immediately does so and gives Magda her space.

“Of course, I’m sorry Magda. I was out scouting shoot locations for a new headshot this week and saw your abandoned space craft on the side of road. Knowing you as well as I do I had a feeling that you were probably enjoying one of your unnecessary sojourns. Thankfully you left it in one of the bougiest possible neighborhoods so I think you’ll be fine with picking it up tomorrow. I’ll leave you be. Clearly you are wanting some time alone.” Elroy brushes off a twig out of Magda’s hair and starts walking back into his own shabbier Electric Hover Desert Rabbit.  

“Any luck with your lamp search?”asks Magda causing Elroy to stop in his tracks and turn around revealing an excitable grin.

“I found this Ponce de Leon Torchier that promises to age and de-age me based on what kind of bulb I put into it. There’s  this audition for a movie about a man breastfeeding his own child I got. The role comprises of both the child and the father, it’s a student film but the kid directing is supposed to have a real stash of connections.” Chatters Elroy, clearly trying to regain a sense of joviality between him and Magda. 

“I have actually never really bothered playing with light in that way before. How are you so good at online shopping? And here I was about to actually consider giving you a droplet of my very own light” sneers Magda as she enters through the lamp shaded gate of her parent’s compound. 

“What?! Really! Wait Magda I’ll gladly take some of your light off of your hands! Come on, come back!” Magda leaves Elroy behind once again and a roving street sweeper pushes him up the current of streaming sidewalk leading deeper into the Energy District. He calls out to Magda yelling her name as he’s being street swept away. Magda turns copper green with regret with even toying around with the idea of sharing any amount of light. Especially with a total goon like Elroy! The family leopard spotted moth, Sapphire, comes whooshing up to Magda giving her a silky kiss. Magda grins and brushes the silk away from her face and picks up a floating torch, lights it with her finger and tosses it as far as she can throw, which due to the pent up hormonal surging emotional cycle Hillary has gotten Mega into, turns out to be quite far. Sapphire flap flap flaps her wings into a column of speed and chases after the floating torch. The outside ladder leading to her room has been rolled up. 

“Because of course!” Sighs Magda as she slips off her cycling light up shoes, the tongue of her shoes light up with a balloon showcasing the amount of miles Magda has walked from Monique’s house, nearly fourteen, if only Elroy hadn’t gotten in the way. Inside both of her parents are stationary as always. Wires running from the back of both of their heads so that when they glance over at the door in unison you can see the pulses of light traveling at the same speed from both of their skulls. Magda parents disgust her and she really tries getting up stairs into her room as fast as possible. 

“Magpie! Get your cute little grown ass over here and tell me about this nice young man you’re considering giving up your light to!”

“Journey,” Magda says addressing her mom by her proper name which causes her mom to feign a twinge,”Why must you two always insist on watching the security feed whenever I am coming home. Every. Single. Time. Do you two expect me to be still be living here until either one of you finally burn out? Just so you can always have a little show of someone else’s lives to watch? You’re almost as much as a goon as that ‘boy’ you are referring to. You know him already, that’s Elroy, we’re just friends.”

“See Enterprise? What did I say?” Journey says peering directly into her husband Enterprise’s vacant light producing sockets. 

“Aw dawlin looks like I owe you thirty pulses! I knew I should have betted on our Magpie giving her light away to some respectable enterprising lesbian. You’re donating your light to science right Magpie? That’s why you left today?”

“I am not donating my light to anyone! I am not anyone’s generator ready to be milked and sapped away for all of my worth.”

“Magda you know your light is strong enough that you could be a really successful crime fighter, or you could even be just another lamp builder like your lil brother and sister.” Coos Magda’s father, Enterprise.

“Or, she can be nothing too! Fine by me! Keep on going missy, I can see how much you are burning to get back into your precious room. All I ask is that at some point tonight please help your siblings make some kind of dinner. Your dad and I are going to be all tied up for the rest of the night running double concurrent shifts. Those damn strikers! We don’t need em! Ow ow ugh I’ve got to be quiet and focus.” Journey rubs her temple which emits a spark. 

“Relax my love. This is just a rough patch. Once there is a serum manufactured we’ll be able to import more workers and we can recharge for the next decade. Maybe even more.” Enterprise says this to Journey and they hold each other’s hands not even minding that they are becoming entangled within one another’s connecting wires. Magda hears the quiet scrape scraping of her younger brother and sister’s lamp and neon shop that takes up most of the second floor. Magda ascends up one more floor and reaches her bedroom at the end of a hallway adorned with family portraits. Mainly of her siblings Gidget and Chester selling lamps around the world. See Gidget and Chester in Bali with a lamp made from resurrected coral reefs. There’s a picture of Gidget, Chester and both of her parents soft shoeing on the grave of Thomas Edison. See Gidget defile the Tesla’s tomb. Chester burning an effigy of Musk. There’s one picture of Magda and Sapphire, Magda is only visible as a beam of light. Magda opens up her bedroom and finds Antonia, the Daycrawler waiting for her, suspending herself from the ceiling. Rotating around like a monk’s slimy finger circling around the lip of a singing wine bowl. 

“Hiya there Miss Shiney! I brought you a present!” Antonia says this in her persistently chippier and bubblier voice that has not  subsided since taking her shower with Monique’s personality shifting scented shampoo. Monique raises her right eyelid causing  one of her dimmest overhead lights to come on. The light reveals reveals the sight of a  tied up woman sporting a bouncy pompadour sprawling out across Magda’s bed. Soy Hands Flannigan! 

“What am I supposed to do with an assassin? All I want to do is curl up and shop. God I sound pathetic.” Magda says attempting to hide the  anxiety spiking through the roof of her dome  coursing down to her toes. 

“She knows how you can find Hillary!”

That’s all it took. All Magda needed to hear was her name. The utterance of Magda’s one and only Hillary causes each and every one of Magda’s three hundred and eighty five lights adorning her bedroom to flare out bright beams of all encompassing light. The kind of light that only glows for a woman once thought lost and dead to the world soon to be rediscovered. Maybe, thinks Magda, having a reformed violent and dangerous assassin as a companion wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[somebdyloved]

“Can you believe that dude? He had no idea what year Batman made his first appearance in a comic book and he had the audacity to tell me he’d be great for the job.” 

Fletcher sighs, walking back from the front entrance of the shop, where he’d just escorted their final interviewee for the day. Though the interview was a dud, it was his last one for the day, so he doesn’t hesitate to throw a little hop in his step when the speakers start to play his favorite song, Come On, Eileen by Save Ferris. A violent bite is taken from his sour punch straw and he leans elbows on the glass of the front counter, where Kirk’s crossing off the name of the poor guy. 

“You don’t think you’re bein’ a little too, uh, harsh or anything, Fletch?” he asks, shutting the notebook. Darren was the fifteenth person they’d interviewed over the last few days. Kirk can understand a polite rejection if someone doesn’t seem to have a decent work ethic, but being such a stickler for product knowledge? “We’re never gonna hire anybody at this point.” 

Fletch scoffs, shaking his head. “No way,” he says. “Think about how much you know. And now, double that by, like, a million. The person we’re going to hire should have at least a fifth of that. We’ve learned our lesson with Jewel.” He nods towards the purple-haired girl in the vintage toy aisle, who dips her hand in the kinetic sand display and mushes a clump of tie-dye sand in her fist. “Jesus, we should take that down...” he mutters. 

“I’m just saying, it’s somebody for a few hours every couple days when I’m out pitching my stuff,” Kirk adds. He’s felt bad for the last couple of weeks making Fletcher take his morning shifts just so he can present his comic, but he’s grateful nonetheless. “They don’t have to be some expert.” 

Fletcher waves Kirk away, the bell above the door signaling a new customer’s walked in. “Hey, how’s it going?” he calls out despite being a bit far to see the customer. Jewel’s in charge of greeting the customers after all, but she needs a heads-up. 

“Listen, just start looking a little harder at all the applications and schedule five really good ones for me,” Fletcher says. “I promise you we’ll pick somebody out of them. If they’re good. Alright.” He pats the counter before turning to glance at the customer. It’s a girl all by herself, and Jewel’s chatting her up about her hair. At least there’s one good thing about hiring that weird valley-nerd-girl hybrid. 

When he focuses hard enough to actually get a good look at the girl’s face, though, he realizes who she is. “H-holy shit,” he says, blindly reaching behind him to grab Kirk’s forearm. “Is that--?” He looks over his shoulder at Kirk. 

The girl they were both in love with from elementary school to high school? Yeah, Kirk thinks it’s absolutely unlikely, but he takes Fletcher’s bait anyway. “Yeah, sure is,” he says, biting down on his pen as he sifts through the applications. 

“No, idiot, look!” 

Kirk glances up and, mouth widening a bit, accidentally drops the pen onto the glass. “That can’t be her,” he says, shaking his head. “She hasn’t been here since, like... fuckin’ high school, man.” He and Fletcher were close to their thirties at this point, so it’s certainly been over a decade. What could have brought the girl back here, after all this time? 

“Go say hi to her, and let me know if it’s really her,” Fletcher says, nudging at Kirk’s arm. 

“What? No, why do I--”

To bring attention to them and force Kirk from behind the counter, Fletcher aggressively presses on the bell that’s by the cash register, surely turning the two girls’ heads their way. Luckily, the store’s just got the four of them in it after the afternoon rush. 

Kirk makes direct eye contact with the two girls, a nervous smile etching itself onto his lips before he waves awkwardly. From across the store, he wonders if the girl even recognizes him. He clears his throat before making his way over to the girls. 

“H-hey,” Kirk stutters. Behind him, Fletcher hides behind the counter, ducking his head and pretending to be really into the cash register. “You need anything, Jewls?” 

Smile pleasant as ever, Jewel shakes her head. “No! We’re all good, Kirk.” 

He feels like he’s gotten punched in the gut when she flat out uses his name. Not like she’d know, but... 

“Actually, she’s looking for a CD of a band I’ve never heard of before, and I don’t wanna get them all dirty...” Jewel trails off, gesturing towards her kinetic-sandy hands. 

“Right, right. You’re good,” Kirk reassures. With that, Jewel scurries off back to the toy section, leaving the two near the CDs. He licks his lips and shoves his hands in his hoodie’s pockets, nodding towards the rows of CDs. “So, um... what band are ya lookin’ for?” 

This close up, he regrets not fucking bothering to wear his glasses today nor his contacts. He can certainly see without them, but not as well as he would if he had either of them. It makes signaling to Fletcher whether she’s actually the girl or not as hard as trying to beat the final boss-- or any boss, really-- in Dark Souls.

“Have you, uh, been to the shop before?” That’ll help him narrow it down. Fantastic Kollectibles (F for Fletcher and K for Kirk-- clever, right?) has only been around for the last two years now, with him and Fletcher deciding to open it up after being unlucky in their actual careers. Turns out, it’s kind of hard getting recognized for comics when you live in the Midwest, and in Fletcher’s case, he put all his eggs in a basket trying to work as an accountant for LucasFilm. 

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Two (part 6)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Part 7: here

Unsurprisingly, trying to stop 'feeling feelings' is easier said than done, leading to more frustration, which in turn results in more lightning. Arthur is practically a sentient ball of electricity,  bits and pieces of himself jumping uncontrollably all over the place, by the time he finally snaps in annoyance, "Can't you do that red-flashy-eye thing."

His voice is weirdly distorted, disembodied. How is he speaking? He doesn't even have a mouth! Not that he had had one before...but still! A wave of static ripples away, breaking against the van walls.

Mystery snorts, /I could, but this is a good learning experience. / All his fur is sticking upright, a response to the static in the air, puffing, giving the dog a rounded appearance. It would be funny if Arthur weren't so aggravated.

"Is this something I really have to learn right now." Shouldn't he first acquaint himself with the whole 'being dead' thing?

/Yes. The quicker you acclimatise, the happier you will be./

"Or…" Arthur retorts, drawing out the word, "how about I not acclimatise. Didn't want to be happy anyway. Problem solved."

Mystery, sitting at the centre of his mini electric infernal, gives him a critical, unimpressed stare over his tiny dog-sized glassed. Arthur thinks it's odd that he knows what Mystery is doing despite now being a collection of sentient, unformed, Arthur particles. He has no eyes. How is he seeing?

/Try clearing your mind. The less you think, the less you will find yourself preoccupied./ Mystery offers like it is that easy, still sitting, unaffected by the increasingly chaotic environment.

"Meditation," Arthur bemoans, disgruntled and growing increasingly stressed, "Why is the answer always meditation?" A lot of the therapists he'd seen recommended meditative activities and he always sucked at them all.

/Everything new is difficult at first. Trust me in this. / Mystery reiterates patiently, /Now. Clear your mind. /

"You know. 'Clearing your mind' is super vague. How is a person just supposed to stop thinking?"  

Mystery, a little exasperated now, is frowning at Arthur like he's missed the answer to a grade-school level question. Around them, the lightning grows increasingly sporadic and pronounced. He knows he is acting stubborn, but these last few minutes have been a rollercoaster of emotion and it's catching up to him all at once. The regret, sadness, fear, and now helpless frustration all mix together into a discordant mess.  The prospect of meeting Lewis again after so long apart, the realisation that this is his reality, dissatisfaction at not being able to do better. It all competes for his attention.  He wants it to stop. Visions of angry, dead, Lewis, flash past and his soul tightens. No. It's not his fault. Mystery said it was a 'parasitic entity.' He should trust Mystery. Doubt gnaws at this thoughts, festering, fluctuating to regret. Purple flame colours all mind.

/This is not going well./ He registers Mystery's offhand remark and doesn't respond. A  renewed wave of regret crashes into him, whipping away his mind.

/Arthur./ Mystery's voice is loud and intense, pulling him back from the haze of cacophonous emotion, /I know you believe that you hold fault for your recent misfortunes and merely telling you otherwise will not change your thoughts on the matter. However, I would like to say, from my own perspective, that you appear to be handling your circumstances remarkably well. Not many humans can say they transversed the currents of time for the simple purpose of saving a friend, while simultaneously keeping their will and sanity./

As far as pep talks go, it kind of sucks. But, it does give Arthur something else to focus on that's not his recent failures or regrets. He forces his attention back onto Mystery, waiting for whatever else he might say. Now, he finds himself too scattered and disembodied to talk, meaning he must remain in silence.

/Obviously, 'clearing the mind' was insufficient instruction./ Mystery states the obvious. /Instead, I would have you focus on a single point and envision yourself standing on said point. When you find your mind wondering to any distressing subject switch to a new position. /

Unbalanced, and now weirdly exhausted, Arthur follows the instruction. He picks a spot in the van and concentrates. Slowly, he pulls himself together. Bit by bit, the lightning condensed in one place, calming now Arthur's no longer fueling it with self-doubt.  It's a slow process which leaves him fatigued and completely done with everything. When he does manage piece himself together and reconstruct something vaguely human-shaped, he finds himself lying flat on his back, staring up at the van's roof. There are multiple darkened patches where it has been hit by the larger bolts of electricity. Everything is heavy like gravity's been dialled up to eleven.

"Why can't I move?" Arthur asks tiredly, trying and failing to shift any of his limbs.  Just when he thinks he's getting used to one weird ghost quirk, another follows close behind.

/You expended a lot of energy. Do not fear. The paralysis is temporary./ Out the corner of his eye, he sees Mystery approach and proceed to sniff at Arthur's limp arm. 

/Though success can be partly attributed to exhaustion. It is still a success. Congratulations on not completely destabilising./ The sound of claws clicking on metal vibrates near his head. Arthur shoots Mystery a tired glare. A second later, a nose is prodding at his face, snuffling along his hairline.

"Stop that," Arthur finds the energy needed to limply bat at the dog with his arm, "You know it's super weird, right?" An amused snuff of air near his face tells him that Mystery does know and is definitely doing it on purpose.

"I don't think I can do this with Vivi or Lewis around," He comments after a beat, choosing to remain motionless on the ground, too spent to attempt any more movement.

"And I'm not saying it to get out of meeting them either. I really don't think I can control this right now."  If all it took were a few wayward emotions to turn him into an inferno of electric death, then there was no way would be able to safely see Lewis again.

"I'm amazed I didn't accidentality kill all three of them in the Cave." In his rush to save younger Arthur and Lewis, he hadn't even considered the possible adverse effects of lightning on his friends.

Mystery huffs, using a paw to flick the side of his head in a very human-like gesture,  /I will not take that complete lack of faith in my ability as the insult it would be, considering my poor track record. Rest assured, there will be no unsupervised human and ghost interactions until I am 100% satisfied with your control./

"Great," Arthur mutters, too tired to argue further. Maybe later, he would feel more thankful for Mystery's help and guidance. Right now he's exhausted on every level.

"Can I go back into the… my err…" He hesitates because saying the word 'anchor' feels weird and makes everything a little too real, "…thingamajig now.” Surely, he's done enough soul searching for one day.

Mystery doesn't correct his choice of phrasing, instead remarking, /I would ask you to wait a moment longer./

Arthur groans, "A moment longer? Why?"

The answer comes with a loud bang on the van doors. Arthur jolts, twitching, fatigue momentarily forgotten, eyes widening. That can't be who he thinks it is. A familiar voice yells from the other side of the door, immediately proving his suspicion correct.

"Hey. Are you done yet! Hospital visiting hours ended twenty minutes ago!"

That's Vivi.

NOTE: People seem to like this fic so here you go, more Ghost Arthur working through his shit and Mystery trying his best to be supportive.  

Part 7: here

[hpdabbles]

holy merlin himself, i’d pay both in cash and with my soul for a sequel to that pick-pocketing fic

Remus Lupin was not pleased in the slightest. He’s not one to go to these type of places but Lily had convinced him clubbing might be a good way to release some stress.

Usually, he didn’t listen to his best friend and roommate but it’s been a hellish week and he really needed something to pick him up. The full moon last Sunday had been so bad he missed three days of work the following days, which prompt his fed-up boss to finally fire him. Remus couldn’t really blame him, after all, he did miss so many days of work per month with called in sick days but short of telling the older man about his condiction could prove he needed those sick days.

Remus felt terrible when he had to tell Lily he would not have enough for the rent and his Wolfsbane potion again. She assures him it alright but he saw the way her eyes had strain obviously thinking of her own financial problem. Lily wasn’t exactly dirt poor like Remus but her interest in studying advanced potions forced her to get an unpaid internship and a part-time job as a waitress in a muggle restaurant which made supporting them on her lonesome impossible.

Lily’s parents stop sending money the day she refused to web a muggle man and had all but cut her out of their lives upon learning her ex-lover. Apparently, being a witch was much more acceptable than being bisexual.

Muggles just couldn’t keep their priorities right. What did it matter who their daughter loved as long as she was happy right?

Remus needed to find a job and soon.

He was going to buy the Wolfsbane potion tonight, from his secret supplier. The only way for Remus not to get outed as a werewolf was to buy it underground even if it cost a little more. Being outed as a Dark Creature is much worse than being on the streets.

At least the later he could somehow claw his way back to a stable livelihood even if it took him years, the former would set his life in stone. A very cruel and cold stone.

Which was why he was hyper-aware of his heavy wallet disappearing from his back pocket seconds after it vanished. He needs to buy that potion tonight. And the money was missing.

Alarm Remus, look everywhere attempting to find the thief among all the dancing bodies. It was hard to see anyone clearly, the dark lights only allowing him to see slight outlined shadows. Thank goodness his nose was able to find his friends. Marlene and  Dorcas were at the bar, laughing and flirting with one another (He gave them three more weeks before they broke and started dating) while Lily was being chatted up by some bloke in glasses.

Remus made eye contact with her very briefly and she nearly excuses herself from the guy when she saw the panic in his face but he shook his head indicating she could stay. After his slight fright, Remus was able to calm once locating his companions his mind clear enough to realize he may not know the scent of the thief but he knew his own scent.

His wallet left a trail among the sweat and alcohol in the air which he followed all the way to the male bathroom. With the door closing behind him, the loud bass of the music dulls just enough for his super hearing picking up the sound of paper being shift.

Taking some quick sniffs Remus realize his wallet was inside this room still and the paper sound must be someone counting his money. With the full moon just a few days away his emotions were all over the place, and light a light switch rage suddenly flickered into his mind.

Remus kicked the stall door open.

It took longer then he likes, he could usually intimidate people because on some level they sense that he wasn’t quite human, but the idiot that robbed him wasn’t being cooperative. He spent must of the time Remus threaten staring with a red face and daze eyes. Maybe he was on some kind drug?

Shame, he was kind of attractive.

“Remus!” Lily shouts over the music the moment she spokes him leaving the bathroom “Remus, are you still sober?”

The werewolf rolls his eyes fondly. His irritated temper cooling just a bit. “Yes. We agree I would be the designated diver tonight. Why? Do you want to leave?”

He couldn’t keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. Remus was tired of this place, the crowd made him uneasy, the music gave him a headache and he was still slightly steaming about the bathroom encounter.

“Yes!” Lily shouts, bouncing on her heels.  “We can get the other two and go.”

Other two? He didn’t understand. Marlene came in her own car and she always offered Dorcas a ride since they lived in the same area. Still, he nodded, assuming perhaps Dorcas managed to get Marlene to take a few shots which meant Remus had to drive them. He didn’t mind much, as long as he made it on time to meet with his dealer.

Gosh, that sounded like he had a drug problem.

“Alright, let’s go. Grab them and meet me at the front.”

He chooses not to tell Lily about the pickpocket incident. Maybe because he didn’t want to worry, her unnecessary or maybe because he didn’t want to ruin her night. Or maybe it’s because he was ashamed? Whatever the case, he lets her wander into the crowd heading for the exit.

He breaks the door with a deep sigh, happy to be out of the overwhelming crowd. There are a few people outside but it’s easier to handle. His advance senses always made going out a bit difficult. Some people couldn’t hear, smell or see everything he could.

His ears are still ringing from that stupid dance music.

Sighing Remus drags his feet to the car. He always gets the car and picks the girls up from the door, since it’s safer for them then walking into a darkened parking lot. Not to say it’s safe for Remus but the man was fairly confident in his fighting skills also he always suspected the girls were just lazy.

Pulling to the entrance he spots Lily’s bright hair, but their friends are nowhere in sight and she jumps into the car with a quick. “Don’t be mad.”

Instantly he’s on guard. “What did you do?”

Before she can answer, a stranger opens his back car door. Remus watches a man with glasses, the same one that talked to Lily for almost the past hour,  climb in with a wide smile. “Hi, I’m James and this is my friend Sirius.”

His brown eyes take in the man that apparently has been invited back to their place without permission and then switch over to the friend, only to find familiar silver eyes staring back at him in wonder.

It was the wallet thief!

“Mr. Gourgous Brown Hair! It’s you!” The guy gasps then shut his jaw turning a bright red. He seems to not have meant to say that out loud while James’ already wide grin turns smug.

Remus gapes at Lily. “What did you do!?”

“Now, now, James and Sirius are just coming over for some coffee. Nothing more.” Lily defends. “I thought you might like to get to know someone, and when James said his friend fancy men I knew it could be a chance at love for -!”

“Get the hell out of my car!” Remus sneers cutting her off. He twists around, hand fumbling for the hunting knife he keeps in his car and banishes it out in case Lily accidentally put them in a dangerous situation. “I’m not taking you fucks anywhere! Get out!”

“Remus!” Lily screams appalled.

“Whoa whoa, he’s got a knife! Mate, please don’t kill us!” James screams leaning away from the blade with wide eyes.

Sirius’s already red face turns more awe if a little weary as he too leans away. “Um..is this about me stealing your wallet?”

“Stealing his what!?”

“Shush Lily.” Remus tells her without taking his eyes off the two threats. “Yes, it’s about you trying to steal my wallet! Get out! I won’t have you wanna-be murders knowing where we live!”

“I’m really sorry about that-”

“You stole someone wallet Padfoot, what is wrong with you-”

“I have pepper spray! I’ll spray the lot of you, get out of our car-”

Three different voices scream at once. Remus can’t decide who he should answer but he does feel better Lily is now pointing a small circular can with the promise pepper spray at the two men who are frozen in his car. He sneers at the thief- Sirius if that’s his real name- who looks both frighten and...infatuated? What kind of people did Lily pick up!?  

“If you don’t leave right now I will cut you!” He screams making some quick slashing motions with his hunting knife just to add more effect.

“We’re leaving!” James squeaks. He makes a slightly sadden glance at Lily who’s hand evens the can at him with narrow eyes. “I wish this had gone differently. But..Sirius the failsafe.”

Sirius’ face clouds over with sadness that makes Remus really worried and he grips his knife handle more tightly. He notices both men suddenly grab something from their jackets- a gun!? A knife!?- and pull out...wands?

These two are wizards. He thinks in shock. He watches them light up in preparation to use memory charms, he recognizes color and hand motion but before they could activate the magic or Remus could launch forward to make due on his promise Lily panics.

(Later, if you ask her, Lily will admit that she hadn't noticed them holding wands instead she thought they pulled out guns and thought they planned on murdering her and her roommate.)

She screams while pressing the button to harshly, her magic accidentally ripping the lid off with her scared emotions and the car fills with Peper Spray.  

“MY EYES! MY EYES! WHAT IS THIS!?”

“FUCK I CAN TASTE IT! PADFOOT IT’S IN MY THROAT!”

“AHHHHHHHH!”

“I’M GOING TO CUT YOU ALL!”

Someone calls the muggle cops and the four get dragged off to the holding cell with red watery eyes and burning skin. In all the drama, Remus forgets about his Wolfsbane potion meeting.

This later comes to bite him in the ass.

[syngigeim]

Day 29 - Talk

Ugh. Elly’s head hurt. Too much to drink the night before. She helped to save the world again and thus party. Thankfully, she felt no body next to hers. She said a quiet prayer of thanks for that one.

There was a note on her bedstand! She bolted straight up. Thal’s balls, maybe she did take a man to bed.

Elly

I wonder how much you remember of last night.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite. This was sounding bad already.

You kinda had a breakdown after many drinks, saying that I was a bastard who was never around. Moaned about just when you managed to find me, well, I at least stopped you from mentioning that G’raha teleported us here.

...gods this was worse. There goes Elly’s reputation with the people of the Crystarium. And she was beginning to figure out who wrote this.

So I volunteered to take you to bed. And then had the glares of everyone in the Wandering Stairs for my poor wording. Just envision Y’sthola glaring at you and that might cheer you up. Anyway, the Washi sisters took you to your room and I just offered to leave you a note. Whenever you are ready for breakfast, come meet me.

- Thancred

Okay, only half as embarrassing as a night that Thancred evidently had. That was at least somewhat welcome. Time to ignore the splitting headache and to see if he’s actually sticking around somewhere.

–

“Oh hey, you’re finally up!” Mariko said, spotting Elly walking out of the Pendants.

“How bad was I last night?” Elly asked.

“Clingy to Thancred. Like holding his arm all night. I think there was moaning about not wanting him to slip out of your grasp again.”

“GODS!” She felt her face go beat red.

Mariko gave a sly grin. “And here I thought you were getting over him.”

“I thought I was! Balls!”

She heard him laughing at her swearing. Damn you! Quit enjoying this too much! “Anyway, he’s been waiting in the Wandering Stairs for you,” Mariko said, grinning, pointing over to the bar.

She gave him a dark look as she headed on up. Sure enough, there he was, sitting patiently. He gave a small smile at her and waved her over. Gods strike her down now. She sat down, her face still red. “I was horrid last night, wasn’t I? I should stop drinking like that. What in the gods did I say to you?”

“Well I was going to ask what did you remember from last night. I guess the answer is, not much.” Thancred said.

She moaned and slumped over on the table. “I don’t even have a real good excuse this time. Other than ‘Hey! It’s a festive time! Drink until you forget everything!’” She moaned again.  She then heard the thunk of a glass being put on the table. She looked up to see a tall glass of water.

“Nothing beats a hangover more than a drink and a good meal,” Cyella said. Elly just turned her head to the side and stared at her. She was undeterred. “An order of sausages and eggs?”

“Sure.” Elly said, half-mumbling, moving her face back to rest against the table. Thankfully Cyella said nothing more as she headed back over to the bar.

Thancred chuckled at Elly’s antics. “Oh come now, it wasn’t that bad. I’ve heard worse professions and declarations before.”

Declarations?! She sat straight up at that. “Wait, did I say that I...well...liked you?”

“Well, not like that. You were acting a lot more like uh...many women who’s hearts I’ve broken before,” He said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

“Great.” Elly said, this time slumping against the chair. “The perfect image for people to have of a hero.”

Thancred tilted his head. “I thought you weren’t too terribly concerned about that?”

“No it’s more that...I thought I was over you. You have different things going on than I do. You’ve got Ryne to look after and I have to well, find myself I guess?” She shrugged. “I still can’t even think of where I want to even be after...well, there’s the thing. I still can’t think of any after being the hero.”

“There might not ever be an ‘after’ Elly,” Thancred said with all seriousness. She stared at him with shock, and he smiled at that. “Life tends to keep continuing on and on and we just have to take what we can get.”

A steaming plate of eggs and sausages was suddenly placed in front of Elly. “Anything else?” Cyella asked, cheerfully.

“No thank you,” Elly replied, wondering if the former adventurer was listening in. She cut into her sausage first.

“You know, if I had actually drank last night...I might have joined you last night.”

Elly quickly put up her hand to her mouth, making sure she didn’t accidentally cough her sausage out. Well, it wouldn’t have been the first time the two took a tumble together but she just had a sudden thought with that statement. “What about Ryne?”

He looked confused at that. “What do you mean?”

“One, aren’t you like, sort of a father to her now? You need to be more responsible and like focus on her! Hells! Why aren’t you with her right now?!”

“She wanted to keep an eye on Syngigeim. Besides which, she wants me to at least work on things with you.”

“Did you tell her what I said to you before? That...I thought we were going in different paths and that while I cared, I didn’t know about any relationship?”

He nodded. “Yes, but remember, you were kinda...despondent last night. Scared that I was going to vanish on you again, I think was about what you said.”

She quickly shoved more pieces of egg white in her face. So those thoughts were what she said while drunk. It was less sadness and more anger. Anger that she could never find him after the Liberation of Ala Mhigo, right when she was done. Right when she could have talked and actually maybe started something stronger with him. The most she got was one night together before he ran off to be a spy in Garlemald. And refused her help, because she was a bloody famous Warrior of Light in the Source.

Elly poked at the yolk of the egg. Did she say anything about Minfilia? That...wait. The man was right in front of her. And wanting to sort things out. She gulped and steeled her nerves. “Did I say anything bad about Ryne? Or Minfilia?” she said softly. Elly was scared of this answer.

Thancred sighed softly at that. “You might have mentioned something about how you were never anyone’s most important person. That no one looked out for you and you alone.”

Crap, shit and fuck. “I am sorry of saying that. Really. And gods, I’ll need to find Ryne and-” She said bolting from the table but Thancred managed to grab her arm, stopping her.

“You didn’t say anything about Ryne or Minfilia.”

“But it’s what I meant. I’m jealous. And I know I shouldn’t be. They’re important to you and I always secretly felt jealous that you seemed to care more about them than anyone else.”

He held tighter onto her arm. “A lot more of your ranting was about how you didn’t feel like you deserved to be celebrating. That your contribution was nothing compared to the Warrior of Darkness. And let me tell you that that’s wrong.”

She gave a short huff and tried wriggling out of his grasp. “We all know that Syngigeim is the real hero here. I just, we all in Wanderer’s League tend to tag along. Hells, I only fought two Wardens! And I could only watch as her soul fractured and break! I couldn’t even fight Emet-Selch and that’s what we’re supposed to be good at! What purpose do I have here?!” she yelled, slipping out of his grasp...and into the table right next to her. Her arm slid across the top, as the side of the table jammed into her side. Worse, her feet slid out from underneath her and she had to cling onto the tabletop in order to attempt to stay up.

Elly felt Thancred help pick her up and onto her feet. “No. You weren’t useless here.”

“Ha. I’m one of many people who can fight.”

“Really Elly? Are we really doing this? No. Not everyone can fight as well or as skillfully as you. And I’m sick of you tearing yourself down like that!”

Elly stared at him. She wanted so badly to say No! I’m within a group of people who are all skilled as I! But he would ignore that. Instead she sat back down in front of her breakfast, stabbing her fork into a piece of sausage a bit more forcefully.

Thancred sat down across from her, his expression serious. “You know, you said you and I were going on different paths, but you never allowed me to speak. I, for one, have always loved the light and life you are. Your energy, your determination. And for the longest time, I tried not to get too attached because yes, as it turns out, I too, have a bad habit of pushing away those who care for me. Focusing on the next duty and what I needed to do, pushing feelings aside. Well, now let me say this. I will respect your feelings if they are different than mine but I for one, love you.”

“Now you say that?! Now after I gave up? Cut my losses?!” She said, slamming her hands on the table. Which hurt more than she was going to let on.

“You have every right to be mad at me for that. And trust me, it took me a long while to realize what exactly I felt towards you. And if your passions have cooled and you now can’t stand me, that’s fair.”

She sat back down in her chair. “Again...I ask, aren’t you now a father?”

“I-”

“No,” she said, raising her hand. “Listen to me. You trying to do right by Ryne. That, is the big difference between us. You are ready to take care of someone and guide her. And if there is anything I have thought of, it’s that I’m not ready for anything like that. Not yet. Maybe not ever. My answer is the same as it was on the sands. I care for you. Would like to spend nights with you. But...you will always have another obligation. Another duty. I think we both will.”

Thancred inhaled a deep breath. “I can accept that. I won’t press further.”

Elly nodded. “Thank you.” And quickly ate up the rest of her food and waved down Cyella to pay the bill.

“I’ll handle that. I asked for you anyway.”

She would have fought but any anger she had was long dissipated.

Slightly outside the Wandering Stairs, on the steps around it, was Ryne and Mariko. Ryne looked disappointed and sad after hearing Elly and Thancred’s agruement. “Sometimes things don’t work out like you hope they would,” Mariko said. “She was evidently angrier at Thancred than I thought.”

“I might have figured...but I kinda held onto that foolish hope I guess, that everything could work out,” Ryne said glumly.

“Love’s kinda hard to control and fickle like that. Trust me on that regard. Take absolute care of yourself and your heart.” Mariko said, grabbing her shoulder and squeezing it. She at least nodded at that. But there a familiar look in her eyes, one of stubbornness. This wasn’t over yet, but he sure hoped that Ryne would not hurt herself too much in the process. He’d seen enough of that.

[prepare4trouble]

Good Omens Fanfic - Looking Like this (2)

So it looks like I am, after all, continuing this. The previous part is here, if you’re interested.

Food, it turned out, was just as enjoyable in Crowley’s body as it was in his own. Some of the flavours seemed a little… off. Not bad, in fact in some cases quite the opposite, just not exactly as he had expected them to be. He wasn’t sure whether that was a result of the body he was currently inhabiting, or a new chef at the Ritz. Either way, the meal was very enjoyable. This came as a huge relief to Aziraphale for two reasons.

The first was that until he had being able to sink into the familiar pleasure of a good meal — although admittedly the wine had probably helped a great deal too — he had been on the verge of a full-blown panic attack the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since the very early days on Earth, when he had given away a flaming sword and then convinced himself that he might have accidentally done the wrong thing.

The second reason had to do with a certain lie that Crowley had told him a couple of millennia after that.

Aziraphale realised, in a distracted kind of way, that Crowley was talking. In fact, he seemed to be halfway through talking about something, and Aziraphale had absolutely no idea what he might have missed. He blinked, then tried to concentrate.

“… don’t you think?” Crowley finished, then looked at him expectantly, waiting for a reply.

Oh dear.  Aziraphale cleared his throat to buy himself some time. There were only two ways to answer that; either yes, or no. Unfortunately, given the events of the past few days, as well as their current situation, subjects of conversation would be unpredictable.

He wished he had some idea what he would potentially be agreeing with…

“Are you okay?” Crowley was leaning forward slightly, across the table, peering at Aziraphale with obvious concern.

That, at least, was a question he knew the answer to. Aziraphale looked up from his lunch, into his own face, and then down at his plate again. It was disconcerting, seeing himself looking back at him. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Playing at being one another had been okay for a while, maybe even fun, but when faced with the potential of an eternity wearing the wrong face, things were starting to feel a little different.

He took another long sip of his wine. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Crowley peered a little harder, if such a thing was possible.

Aziraphale tried to look away, but it was difficult to ignore him. Wherever he looked, he could see the demon out of the corner of his eye, and almost feel the concern radiating from him. “Stop it!” he said. “Really, Crowley, that’s not helping.”

Crowley sat back a little and stopped with the peering. “Right, so you’re fine. Totally believable, that. So what were you thinking about just then? Don’t think I didn’t notice that look of panic when you realised you had no idea what I was talking about.”

So, he hadn’t been as subtle as he had thought. Well, that or Crowley knew him too well. Aziraphale stuffed a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Nothing,” he insisted. “Well, other than this whole situation, of course.” He indicated his… or rather Crowley’s… body with a wave of his hand, just in case there was any confusion as to the situation he was referring to.

“Nuh-uh.” Crowley shook his head. “At one point you were smiling. I doubt you’d be smiling if you were thinking about our little problem.”

Aziraphale sighed. Crowley definitely knew him too well. Or maybe just the right amount… “Fine,” he said. “If you must know, I was feeling relieved. If you remember, sometime around 203 AD you told me that food rotted the moment it touched a demon’s lips. I’d always kind of assumed you were lying, you suggest going out for dinner far to often for it to be true, but it’s just a relief to know. I’d been worried about you, that you were being denied one of life’s simple pleasures.”

A grin spread slowly across Crowley’s face, one that looked so distinctly Crowley that it was instantly recognisable even in the wrong body. “Oh yeah, I did say that, didn’t I? Yeah, I was messing with you. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told you I’d been messing with you. Like right after.”

“Yes, but making two contradictory statements only confirmed that you were a liar. There was no real way for me to know which statement was the lie and which was the truth.”

“So you’ve been worrying about me?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“For two thousand years?”

“Give or take.”

“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?”

Of course did knew that. He had known it for centuries. Longer, actually. There was something inherently ridiculous about an angel and a demon even talking civilly to one another, let alone being friends, going out to lunch together. Going up against the joint forces of Heaven and Hell and saving the world together.

For all he might have denied it in the past, Aziraphale really did consider Crowley a friend. A good friend. His only friend, even.  After all that time, it would have been impossible not to. Which was why he had been worrying about him.

“It wouldn’t make any difference, you know.” Crowley said.

“Hmm?”

“If I had been telling the truth back then, it wouldn’t make any difference to you right now. You’re not a demon, you just happen to look like one. If you were, you wouldn’t have survived that holy bubblebath you just took.”

Oh. Crowley was right, of course. That had been the essence of their whole plan. It wasn’t the body they were wearing that was angelic, or demonic, it was the being inside it. He was no more a demon now than he had been last week.

He nodded. “Just to check, you’re not trying to tell me that food really does…”

“No, of course not.” As though to prove a point, Crowley picked up his fork and finished the last of his lunch with a flourish. “I mean you’re not a demon, angel. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Oh. Well, no. I did know that of course.” And he had. But certain things are inherent to the body, and others to the soul. He had wondered, before the swap, whether Crowley’s eyes might be linked to his demonic nature and might follow him into Aziraphale’s body. He had been relieved to find that they had not; it would have made their plan much more difficult to pull off.

Crowley smirked. He put down his knife and fork on the plate and sat back, waiting for Aziraphale to finish.  Aziraphale frowned, he was normally the one perusing the dessert menu while he waited for Crowley to slowly clear his plate.

“Well that’s definitely for the best,” he said as he pushed his own, unfinished, plate away. Crowley’s stomach just didn’t have the capacity that his own did. “I might not be a particularly good angel, but I’m quite certain I’d make a much worse demon. Even if I have picked up a few of the necessary skills thanks to our little Arrangement.”

“Ah you’d be fine,” Crowley told him. “Tell you what, if you ever fall, I’ll show you the ropes.”

Aziraphale supposed he should be insulted by that, but after the events of the past week, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wasn’t going to fall. After everything that had happened, both Heaven and Hell were suitably freaked out about the two of them and he was quite sure that they were going to be left alone for some time. But if he did ever fall, Crowley was right; he would be fine. If they couldn’t swap back into the correct bodies he would be fine. Whatever happened to either of them from here on out was going to be okay, because they had each other.

He raised his wine glass to Crowley, who frowned, confused, but raised his own in response. Aziraphale was feeling oddly good right now. He had a feeling that was going to change when he needed to sober up, but that could wait until he got home.

He wondered which home that would be. He longed for the comfort of his books, but for the sake of keeping up appearances, he was probably going to have to go back to Crowley’s place.  Well, on the positive side, maybe he could do something to help the poor, terrified houseplants while he was there.

“What are you smiling about now?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, I’m just thinking about what to have for dessert,” he lied. “What do you think, can I tempt you?”

Crowley gave him a disapproving look. “You’re not funny,” he said. He shrugged, “But yeah, go on then.”

Aziraphale’s smile widened as he called the waiter over. “Last time I was here they did a meringue that was absolutely…”

“You’d better not,” Crowley said.

“Why?”

The demon shrugged. “I just can’t stand the stuff, the texture, the flavour, it’s just…bleh.” He shuddered theatrically.

“I love meringue,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley slung an arm over the back of his chair in a way that Aziraphale would never. How he managed to look so relaxed was a mystery. “You did,” he said, “and when we sort this out I’m sure you will again, but you’re in my body right now, so…”

“Bleh.”

“Bleh,” Crowley confirmed with a nod.

“Oh.” Aziraphale frowned.  He didn’t know whether it worked that way, but he didn’t want to take the risk. Not right now. He had achieved the correct level of intoxication to keep him from worrying about their… situation for the time being. Not enjoying something that he usually did, would remind him of the more uncomfortable implications of the situation, and he didn’t want to risk that. Not yet. There would be time for that later. “Well, that’s disappointing. Anything else I should know?”

Crowley smiled widely. “Oh, plenty. But sticking to the subject of desserts… I dunno. Custard’s pretty gross too.”

“Well, that’s something we can both agree on at least. As for you, very little is off limits when it comes to food, but given the circumstances I strongly suggest the meringue.”

“Bleh.” Crowley said again as he accepted the dessert menu from the waiter, who looked a little confused by the conversation that had been taking place as he had cleared their plates.

The chances of the information getting back to Heaven or Hell via their waiter was slim, but just in case, Aziraphale quickly performed a little miraculous memory alteration. It wasn’t strictly allowed; messing with memories dangerously skirted the edges of playing with free will, but it was such a minor change it wasn’t going to hurt. They would have to be more careful what they said in public in future.

In future… He was already thinking like this was going to last.

He took another sip of his wine and turned his attention to the desserts.

(part 3)

[lynxgriffin]

Straight Outta Monster Narnia

HEY HEY I WASN’T EXPECTING TO DO THIS EVER AGAIN BUT WE’RE BACK

I’M GONNA PLAY ME SOME DELTA RUNE HERE

THOUGHTS AS I GO! ARE UNDER THE CUT!

Here we GOOOOOOO~!

Survey Program! Nice! Ominous!

I am here yes!

Truly excellent dude

OH MAKING A VESSEL NOW what are we Xehanort

NEATO I can pick Chara or Frisk heads or others…

Let’s do someone new. This kinda longish hair head.

STRIPES FOR DAYS! Longish sleeves, methinks

The legs are almost all the same LMAO

This is so friggin creepy I l OVE IT

Favorite food is PAIN nah it’s soft

BLOOD TYPE D. D for DOGGO

You have been gifted with kindness, not-XionFrisk

Pain AND seizure. Kinda wonder what happens if you say no tho…

But I don’t want to start over so let’s go with yes

OH FRIGGIN BUUUUURNED BY THE GAME, HAHAHA

Hi Toriel, you’re looking nice!

That’s a lot of friggin trophies over there

Also Kris, you need some eyes

RELIGIOUS SKA

So we have overachieving perfect child and sad boring child, okay

Awww Gerson wrote a book! How neat

It’s only you…..FOR NOW!!!!

It just isn’t home without white fur stuck in the drain, is it

CHAIRIEL’S RETURN!!!!

Also there’s some weird graphical flicker going on when I move and I wonder if it’s not because I’m playing full screen here

“Spray For The Boys, Flamin’ Hot Pizza Flavor” Damn Toby I missed your incredible sense of humor

DOES TORIEL USE PET SHAMPOO please say yes

ASRIEL’S AT COLLEGE AND UNDYNE’S A POLICE MONSTER, PERFECT

PROFESSOR ALPHYS IMMA GET AN A+ IN ANIME CLASS

DAMN who do I pick as my partner

Like…I really want Temmie…but also Snowdrake…

Random snake is also very good…

Ahhh I see this is gonna be pre-determined

HAHAHAHA FUCKIN BURNED AGAIN BY THIS HORRIBLE BLUE DUCK

Thank you cool snake I love your origin story

Oh this reindeer girl is very cute

MOTHA. FOKKIN. SUSIE

I instantly love her, goodbye

Oh Alphys you’re so not good at putting anyone in trouble

I JUST REALIZED TEMMIE HAS HER EGG ON THE DESK

Susie are you eating chalk

Oh sheet I like Susie less now

GAH DAMN THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

Susie, Kris doesn’t even HAVE a face

Haha totally cut off my answer there

Hmm. I sense…a theme here.

Wow this really is putting on the restrictive aspects here

Now that’s a spooky face

Oh it ain’t gonna be that simple, mean girls

Well, this sure seems like an underground! Also…Kris is green now, okay

Hi there creepy waving things!

To reiterate: this is soooo creepy AND I LOVE IT

Puzzles! We got puzzles again! CREEPY PUZZLES

Whelp, we found Susie, just kinda hiding out in a…dead dust bunny thingie

LOL so much for a party member following you around

Well this is a new and interesting take on the bullet hell mechanics

Such interesting and different architecture

THE KINGDOM OF DARKNESSSSS

Yes let’s take a sudden HARD SHIFT into Final Fantasy

THE QUEST OF THE DELTA KNIGHTS that was an MST3K ep you know

About like…Leonardo da Vinci actually. Except he was a whiny bitch

LMAO Susie just “nah destroying the world sounds neat”

JOKESTER SANS GLIDES IN A FLAMING TRICYCLE SURE WHY NOT

VERY DIFFERENT COMBAT SYSTEM

“Dunno how I got an ax but like, that’s cool”

CAN’T WAIT FOR THE REMIXES OF THIS BATTLE MUSIC OKAY

Dunno if there’s a pacifist version of this game but I stick to tradition so I’m gonna try it

RALSEI. I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE

THE POWER OF FLUFFY BOYS SHINES WITHIN YOU it sure as hell does, game

The heckin heck Ralsei is so cute

Yup yup we gonna try pacifist this first time!

“If you’re reading this…I guess you’re dead.” Fair enough.

Gaster noises when trying to use the cell phone, hmmmm…

It’s an inverse papou fruit!

Susie just up and attacks this cake, all right

Battle is cool but it’s gonna take some getting used to, think I accidentally used both of my items

YOUR SENSE OF DIRECTION WON’T SAVE YOU NOW

“It’s like a dinner made out of three glasses of milk” Ralsei you’re SO CUTE

Now to see if TP stays leveled between battles…

“I thought you were running away.” / “Yeah, I finished.”

Fugdamn I want —pictures of Spiderman— remixes of this music ON MY DESK TODAY

FRIGHTENING FANFARE

Damn that puzzle still is tricky

Gah damn that was hilarious but also terrifying

We have the power of FLUFFY BOYS and MEAN GIRLS we are UNSTOPPABLE

Ohhh so that’s what the heart outline does!

Now that is a coooool cat and I like him already

Awww I don’t have enough money for the spooky sword

Susie just roastin’ everybody left and right

THEY GOT BARRY

These mechanics continue to be interesting and a bit more complex

“Damn, didn’t get to impale myself” I’m sure you’ll get your chance Susie

It’s really interesting how we’re basically group-battling to PREVENT the tank from beating the crap out of everyone

Oh now that light trick is weird

They keep throwing the usual chess and playing card guys at us and somehow I’m Suspicious

Is that a bucket. ARE Y’ALL HOMESTUCKING AT ME AGAIN

LMAO did Susie call us the Fuckboys or something

Oh, the Shit Squad, I guess!

THE POWER OF THE SHIT SQUAD SHINES WITHIN YOU HECK YESSSS

“I, Mr. Society, am far too intelligent to ever bow down to such a tyrant!” Hmmm.

Oh, it’s Sir Lion Plateface again

L E G S

THE BOSS JUST DRINKS A GALLON OF MILK THAT’S FINE

Well Ralsei got kinda junked there but WE DEFEATED SIR LION PLATEFACE

Cakes…are also my enemy…

Yeeeeah kinda saw that one coming

Susie I get the feeling you’re not going to enjoy being a bad guy either

Dang son I have no clue what’s going on anymore WE JUST HAD SOME SALSA IN A TREE STUMP

This jack’s got my number

That sure is a three-eyed three-headed cat thingamajig

Awww I like Clover

“All proceeds go to kicking your ass” CAN I USE THIS LINE IN REAL LIFE PLEASE

Hot damn we just squeaky hammered our broken cake into ULTIMATE CAKE

Why does a sweet little boy have a mustache indeed.

Create a machine to thrash your own ass, nice

It’s my beautiful death laser duck! Tops in GUN’S

Man Susie and Lancer are just having the time of their lives here

Finally, respect for pinecone-eaters!

Awww Susie, are you actually starting to worry about someone who respects your eating of chalk and pinecones

Oh thank goodness, got through that maze thing

Yes, finally, it’s our DUCK TANK LASER

Why does it say Tuna on it

“Your design sucked so we blew it up” This is like that one Berlin tour guide I had

GANGED UP ON THEM WITH KINDNESS, HA

Whelp, back to telling enemies that Susie will kick them in the shins I guess!

YES LANCER JOIN THE SHIT SQUAD

OMFG THAT FAAAAACE WHAT IS THAT FACE

Hey we’ve got a full Final Fantasy team now! Neat

STOOL FORME

I like how Lancer just sliiiiiides around outside the party instead of walking with

Hmmm well that friendship feeling didn’t last long

You done got locked in the dungeon

Yup sure did eat that jail moss two minutes in

HUH, we’re controlling Susie now

In which choices do not matter…

SUSIE’S FOKKIN PISSED

And we can’t control her actions…but why controlling the human soul?

A pair of eyes got arrested?! What IS the world coming to?!!

Oh dear, we found a bunch of kings in baby jail

Why are these filthy cages so happy-looking

Awwww Susie joined the party for realizes!

So, this about final boss point for this business?

Why are you guys just sitting on a pile of loot

And just who is this sassy lost child?

BAAHAHAHAAA

HECK YEAH WE GET TO FLIRT AGAIN

I am now BED INSPECTOR yes

Hello again fancy blue boy

“Can…can we see it” / “No.”

This sure is a jammin party with CLUB MUSIC OH HO HO HO

Awww he put his bicycle to bed

‘Welcome to my shop, you ungrateful worms” HELL YEAH

I do not wisheth to hear your MP3s! I would rather listen to the sweet song of Death!

Prepare for a battle with…WHATEVER THIS IS!!!!

JUST FUGGIN CHUCK RALSEI AT SIR LION PLATEFACE, I LIKE IT

Six dollars, for all of that?! Geez

WHELP this looks like final boss time…

Hiiiii there Lancer

Oh dang is gettin serious now

Oh woooow that’s…someone’s fetish right there

HOKAY that was tricky but! Having the defense abilities certainly helped with pacifism through that…

Despite ending this peacefully, I don’t think this scene is gonna end on a happy note…

W H E L P

DAYUM that face from Susie!!

Awwww poor Ralsei

We only have BAD-byes WUAH WUAH WUAAAH

DAWWW lil’ Asriel-lookin dude with glasses (and YES I see that anagram there)

LMAO Susie’s face

EPIC ROCK MUSIIIIIC

Also I’ve really been enjoying the color effects

Awww look at this epic adventure you two had in the closet

So basically we went to Monster Narnia, neat

Awww Susie likes Monster Narnia

Oh no we worried Toriel! THE WORST

LIBRARBY

YOU STUDY THOSE HOT DEMON COMICS FOR COLLEGE, TEMMIE

Hiiii Toby you busy makin’ something!

ALPHYS NO, YOU BETRAY MEW MEW KISSY CUTIE

OFFICE UNDYNE, DOn’T ARREST ME

I like reindeer girl’s rowdy hospitalized dad

PARTY ANIMAL TORIEL CONFIRMED

I like how there’s just a poster on the wall in this room that reads PAIN

The police tape simply reads NGGAAAAAHHHHH!

Good grief there’s SO MUCH STUFF TO EXPLORE HERE BUT I HAVE TO KEEP GOING

Snowdrakes don’t have arms, oh no!!!

“Does it hurt to be made of blood??” ….Yes. Yes it does.

HIIIIIIIII SANS

Woah woah woah WOAH WOAH SANS

Everyone is here! Even Ice Wolf!

Yes I’ll take a Double Ice Pizza you weirdos

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOD IT’S BURGERPANTS

10 OUT OF 10 GAME NOW

HIS FACES!!!! “C H I C K S”

That was brilliant, Burgerpants, thank you for existing

Catty!!! Hey where’s Bratty!

Noooo you gotta be besties with Bratty!

Brother Doug…?

Oh no, Mettaton, come out and talk to us!

ASGORE, HELLO

OMG Asgore hugs

Soul flowers….???

Awwww got some flowers for Toriel

THE GAY GUARDS IN THEIR GAY FLANNEL, YAY

It’s so late but I can’t stop until I’ve talked to LITERALLY EVERYONE

Thaaaat’s politics! …Rarely.

Comes to church for the fruit juice, sounds about right

DOG GRAVE, NO

Let’s go into the woods…what could go wrong…

Why can’t I get into the creepy shed…

Well, I think I got everything, so let’s go home now…

ASRIEL MAINS YOSHI IN SMASH CONFIRMED

Awwww Toriel is not big on Asgore’s bouquet!

OKAY decided to go to sleep here.

…Well that didn’t work out great

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

UUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WHAT??????????

WHAT????????????

WHAT?????????

HAHA I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE FUK HAPPENED IN ALL OF THIS BUT UH. WHEN’S CHAPTER TWO??

THAT SURE WAS A HELL OF A THING

No really Toby please WHAAAAAAATTT

OKAY I HOPE I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING IMPORTANT BYYYYEEEE

[huntertales]

Part Two: Pick On Someone Your Own Size. (Everybody Hates Hitler S08E13)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the death of a Rabbi who spontaneously combusted. The case becomes ever more confusing when they learn that the Rabbi was researching Nazi Necromancers. The trio are attacked by a Golem who turns out to belong to the Rabbi’s grandson, Aaron. The key to the case lies with the Golem but Aaron doesn’t know how to control him, which leaves everyone in danger. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,904.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

The next afternoon you and the boys arrived in Pennsylvania to investigate more of the death of the rabbi to see if it might be supernatural, or just the circumstances of something that science had yet to figure out. Spontaneous human combustion was a thing that happened a few times before to people with no sort of explanation, however you had students who witnessed the man's death and might be able to shed some more light on what happened. Sam parted ways with you when he decided to check out the rabbi’s research and figure out if it might be linked to the reason of his sudden and unexpected cause of death.

You and Dean headed off to the college campus to track down the eyewitnesses who saw the sight first hand. Almost everyone had the same story they repeated to the cops about Isaac Bass; an old guy who hung around a lot at the library and chatted up students about stories that made little sense, only to someone who was probably losing their mind due to old age. Most of the people you talked to couldn’t elaborate more on the stories Isaac went on about due to needing to get to class or didn’t want to. Lucky for you and Dean, when you got the campus pub there was a few students who had lent him and ear from time to hear about his wild stories. And got a front row seat of Isaac’s death the night it happened.  

“He was a really nice old kook.”

“Really nice.”

The two college students who witnessed Isaac's death first hand were two volleyball players that shared more than just their peppy attitudes and outfit. They sat across from you and Dean while they told you about Isaac. You smiled slightly as you raised your brow slightly from their wording about how they described the man as you repeated it, asking what they meant by that. The blonde sitting across from you look at her friend before back at you to elaborate more.

“You know, he’d talk a lot to us, to himself, to anyone who’d listen.” The blonde said. “He was always talking about this secret war that nobody knew was going on.”

“Conspiracy stuff.” The other one added. “He was obsessed with Nazis.”

“But he said they were ‘special Nazis,’ you know…” The blonde turned her head slightly over her shoulder to take a quick glance around the pub to see that all of the students were either talking among themselves or too engaged with their phones to care much about what all of you were discussing about two things that never should go together. “Necromancers. Like, from what world of whatever-craft that my little brother is always playing.”

You dealt with a lot of weird stuff in your time while hunting and came across many forms of evil, but you weren’t lucky yet to come across a couple Nazis and put a bullet in their brain. But you had your fair share of people who tried to raise people from the dead with consequences. You wrote the two words down on the small notepad you had opened and outlined it, knowing there was going to be a fair bit of research tonight for you and Sam to figure out how the two worked in together. You knew well enough it wasn't going to be something for the greater good if it had one of the very worst forms of humans the world had ever seen.

“It’s sad, isn’t it,” The student sitting across from Dean spoke up. You looked up from the paper to hear what she had to say about the poor soul who she thought was losing his mind. “That old people have to go so crazy.”

“I know.” Her friend said. “It is sad.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you kept your gaze down to your notepad while you wrote down a few more things that would be useful for you in the near future. Dean peered over slightly to see what you were writing, but he found his attention lingering away from the table when he felt someone’s eyes on him, like before. He casually glanced around the pub and made eye contact with a man sitting across the room. The stranger gave the man a little too friendly of a smile as he waved. Dean turned his head slightly to see that you were still engrossed in your writing. He realized the man wasn’t waving at you...but him. Dean found himself slightly taken aback as he turned his attention back to the two college students. “You, um...” The older Winchester found himself trailing off for a second, his eyes wandering back to the stranger across the bar, but the man looked away from him. You gave him a slightly confused expression before he pulled himself back to normal. “I'm sorry. You, uh, you both saw the accident?” “I can still hear his screams.” The woman sitting across Dean said, giving you a visual for what the both of them had to witness. “It was like the fire was alive, like,” Her friend continued on. “like it was attacking him.” The other woman nodded her head on agreement. “It was like that.” Dean found himself drifting away from the conversation and to the man across the bar when he realized he was still being stared at, in a way that was making him grow skeptical something was going on here. He excused himself from the conversation, leaving you alone to the volleyball players he might have stuck around to talk to a little while longer if he was single. But his focus was on the stranger who had no business following him around campus. And it was starting to get under the man’s skin. Dean caught the guy off guard when he was drifting off to space and staring at someone else in the bar to make himself look a little less conspicuous. The older Winchester knew better than to think this was anything more than something serious. Dean got the man’s attention when he slapped his fake badge down on the table, making the stranger look back at him, slightly startled at the introduction he wasn’t expecting so soon. Dean introduced himself as Special Agent Bolan, the same name to the rest of his fellow classmates he’d been talking to for the past few hours. He expected the stranger to grow a little nervous out of fear for why the FBI was lurking around campus, but the man’s reaction was anything what he was expecting. He stared at the badge with a sort of bashful smile on his lips, the kind Dean saw on many females faces when he told whatever sort of authority role he was playing to impress them. “Oh, really? Wow.” The man said, smiling slightly as he let out a chuckle. “I thought you were like a headhunter or something.” “This is the second, maybe third time I'm seeing you today?” Dean wondered, bringing up the numbers of times he saw the man's face around campus that was more than just a coincidence. His tone of voice might have been casual, yet the serious expression on his face was anything but. "Why you following me, Gingerbread?”

"Oh, so, we, um..." The man found himself growing slightly embarrassed at what was going on and the miscommunication between the both of them. "we didn't have a thing back there, huh?"

Dean felt himself being thrown through a loop at what the man was talking about, things weren't clicking just yet. "Back where? W-what now?"

"I thought we had a thing back at the quad, you know, a little 'eye magic' moment," The man explained to the older Winchester. Dean suddenly felt the wheels turning in his head. He slowly retracted his badge and flipped it closed. He slightly peered over his shoulder to see that you were wrapping up the conversation with the two students, not having a single clue of what was going on. "and I saw you here and I figured I'd wait until you were done with your meeting and maybe we might, uh..."

Dean had his fair share of flirtatious talk to know what was going on here, hell, he was the one normally giving it to the person that caught his eye. And plenty of women have tried it on him when he was single, even taken. But never in his time had this happen. "Yeah, uh, okay, but no—no moment. This is a...." Dean was normally casual and collected under these kind of situations, but he found himself growing like a babbling idiot. "federal investigation."

"Is that supposed to make you less interesting?" The man tried to make a joke as he chuckled. Dating was hard for everyone when you weren't sure who liked who, but Dean had to give the man props for having good taste. "No, I'm sorry, man. I hope I didn't freak you out."

"No. No. I-I'm n-not freaked out. It's just a, you know...a federal thing. It's a..." Dean realized that he was rambling on like an idiot, the exact same kind of way he used to behave when he was a young teen. He cleared his throat to try and compose himself before he could make himself out to be any more of an idiot. He was saved by the sounds of your approaching heels clicking away. "Okay, citizen. As you were."

"You have a good night." The man said, watching as Dean began to walk away.

"You—You..." Dean turned around to face the man to give him a nice farewell, but he found himself forgetting to stop walking. He accidentally felt his backside hit a table with a few empty glasses on the table, his collusion made them clank together, causing a few eyes to wander over to him to see. Dean felt his cheeks beginning to grow warmer. "have a...okay."

Dean managed to get far enough away without making an idiot out of himself again. You stood waiting for him at the front door with your arms crossed over your chest, wondering what was taking so long. When you saw him approaching, you were ready to head out, but you found yourself lingering behind at the sight of Dean you didn't think you've really ever seen him before. You furrowed your brow slightly at the sight of his cheeks, that were the slightest tinge of pink.

"What's with you? Someone mistake you for a college student?" You joked with him, knowing the both of you were well past the prime age of your youth. Dean shook his head and said nothing more. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked around to see who he was talking to that was making him so...bashful. You didn't see a young woman that was ten years younger than you on her own, but you did happen to spot a familiar face you noticed while roaming around the campus. "Hey, doesn't that guy look—"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it. Turns out it was just a...misunderstanding." Dean said. He smiled, the kind of way as if someone had told him he was cute. You looked at him before back at the man sitting by himself with a drink. It took you a second before you realized what was going on. It seemed someone had tried to make a pass at him, but it was the opposite gender this time. You let out a quiet chuckle, finding this a little too amusing. "Let's get out of here, huh?"

You nodded your head in agreement as you pulled out your ringing phone from your pocket to see that it was Sam calling. As the both of you made your way out of the pub and back on campus grounds, you looked back over at the man one more time to get a good look at him, thinking you wouldn’t see him ever again. "Eh, he's cute. But you could do better." You muttered. Dean gave you a look from how you were still keeping the topic going, you smiled to yourself and answered your phone before it was too late. “Hey, Sammy."

"Hey. So I looked into the rabbi's research. It doesn't make a lot of sense. Um..." Sam fell silent for a moment over the phone, making you wonder what was going on with him. He spoke up a few seconds later to tell you what he found. "bird watching."

"Huh. Well, the two co-captains of the women's volleyball team Dean and I talked to agreed that the rabbi's death was very unnatural." You told the younger Winchester. "I think we've still got a case."

"That would explain why I have something stuck to my shoe." Sam said. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked over at his older brother that was standing next to you, prompting you to ask if he was being followed. "Yeah, I think so."

"That's weird." You said, starting to walk to the Impala with the older Winchester. "Dean thought him and I were being followed earlier."

"Turns out it was just a gay thing." Dean felt the need to add that detail to clarify loud enough for his brother to hear over the phone. You stared at the man for a second from what he felt the need to announce, Sam's voice on the other line echoed a 'what' at his brother's confession that dismissed the situation as nothing to worry about. Dean ignored your look as he snatched your phone away to talk to his brother. "Nothing. You need a hand?"

"Yes, please." Sam said. "Some place quiet?"

“Visitors parking—the boonies. I’ll park in the back. You meet up with Y/N." Dean said, coming up with a plan of action. You made your way to the passenger side as Dean got himself behind the wheel. “Thirty minutes.”  

+ + +

It was growing darker when you met up with Sam in front of the library and spent a few minutes talking to one another, pretending to be engaged with something that sound important to throw his shadow off. You and him started to make your way back to the Impala that was parked a good distance away where you met up. The metal ring that held the keys to the Impala dangled off your index finger while Sam walked in sync with you, both of you pretending to be oblivious about your surroundings as you carried on a conversation. You complained about your feet hurting you, Sam told you to wear more practical shoes on the days where it required a lot of walking. You tossed him a dirty glare as you made your way to the trunk of the Impala, pretending to fetch a different pair of shoes. Sam made it seem like he was about to make his way to the passenger side, but he stayed close. You began to casually flip through each key, trying to remember which one went to the car. However, due to your slippery finger, you accidentally dropped them to the pavement. Instead of picking it up right away, you looked over at Sam, giving him a small smile from what you were about to do.

"Oh, no. I’m such a klutz. Sammy, can you help a pregnant woman out?” You asked him, loud enough for him to only hear. “My back hurts when I bend down.”

Sam pretended to give you an annoyed look at what you were asking of him, he did it anyway. It wasn’t a total lie. You turned your back to the bushes that were behind you, a perfect spot for someone to be crouching down right now and spying on your every move. If you had to guess, Dean was making his move as you and his brother distracted the stranger. And that’s where you ran into a slight problem. Well, more of a huge one.

The Winchester boys were rather tall; Dean was a good six feet somethin' while his little brother had three more inches on him that caused him to tower over most, you especially. However the person following Sam wasn't someone that compared to his height...not even close.

Sam was about to push himself up back to his feet when something unexpected happened that sent you and him to look behind you. It started off with the sound of someone screaming, which you quickly learned was Dean after you saw him go flying in the air—and land directly into a parked van that made you wince at the impact it had. Broken glass from the windows  cushioned his fall as he dropped to the pavement.

You called out the man's name in a panicked tone as you saw him curl up at the pain settling in his body from the impact that you knew had to cause some damage. Your first instinct was to go running towards him to make sure that he was all right. But what you saw emerging from the bushes, who had thrown a man very much heavier than you through the air like he was nothing more than a rag doll made you rethink your decision.

"Oh my God. Oh my God." You weren't the type of hunter to panic when you saw a dangerous hunter coming your way. Hell, almost all of the time you went running towards it, ready to take it down once and for all. But who you saw charging forward at you made you realize this was something you hadn’t really ever dealt with before. You found yourself acting like a deer in headlights, your mind trying to wrap around the fact that a giant was coming your way, probably ready to give you the same treatment he gave to Dean. "Sammy…”

You had gotten pretty lucky from the tumbles you took here and there while hunting that didn't disrupt the baby. That was when you went up against monsters you knew like the back of your hand. But what you saw approaching you...it was nothing you've seen before. And didn't want to be near. Sam tried his hardest to work quick as he could to unlock the trunk and retrieve a weapon he could use against the thing coming your way. He snatched a machete and yanked you by your arm, getting you behind him so you were out of harm's way. Sam swung the weapon to the arm that was coming in his direction to try and slow the giant down.

The blade sunk into the forearm of the monster, the one that was sharp enough to slice through a human neck, but it didn't do much of anything. You felt your eyes grow slightly wider as your mouth fell open at the sight of the machete in flesh without needing more than one swing. But the machete didn't do much of anything to slow the creature down. You felt your eyes grow slightly more wider as you mouth fell open at the sight of the blade stuck in the monster's arm, nothing more than just a dent. No blood, no cut.

Sam had to use all the strength he had to yank the machete out from the creature’s arm, but before he could take another swing, it seemed the creature wasn't too happy with what the younger man had did. You could only watch as Sam was grabbed ahold by the neck from a hand that had to be big as your head. Without even breaking a sweat, the thing lifted up Sam off the ground, letting his feet dangle for a good few seconds as the man struggled to breathe. Your mouth was wide open and your brain was screaming for you to tell the creature to stop hurting Sam, but the fear of what you were staring at made you fall mute. However it seemed someone had come to the rescue, ordering for the creature to stop.

Sam felt his feet hit the ground after only a few seconds as he inhaled a much needed breath after his neck was squeezed tighter than he’d ever felt before. You knew there was another man standing next to Sam, who had commanded for the enormous giant to stop hurting Sam, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the thing that towered over Sam and made you feel like Thumbelina. The thing you were staring at...he was nothing you've encountered before. It was like the Incredible Hulk.

"What the…” You brain began to finally start working when it began stuttering out words as you continued to stare up at the giant in front of you. Your neck was starting to grow sore from having to look so high up. The creature stared down at you and Sam, showing no sort of emotion to indicate what he was thinking, or if he was planning on killing you with his bare hands that could easily snap your neck like a twig. "What the hell is that?"

“He’s a golem.” You found your gaze lingering away from the monster that now had an identity. You looked over to see a face you spotted earlier today at the pub. The man who tried to make a pass on Dean. "Well, he's my golem."

You managed to force a smile at the bit of information that didn’t make you feel any better about this situation. The man didn’t seem like he was here to harm any of you, despite the fact that the golem had thrown Dean across the parking lot, where he remained almost forgotten—until you heard him mutter something about his spleen. You quickly looked over to see him still on the ground curled up in pain. You winced slightly as you made your way over to him, wanting to make sure he was all right and there was no broken bones you needed to worry about.

+ + +

At first things seemed to be going in a bit of a strange direction in this hunt; Nazi necromancers, a rabbi who burst into flames with his last book checked out for his research about bird watching and a golem that belonged to a guy named Aaron. But all of it was connected together. You and the boys were invited back to Aaron's’ motel he was renting to discuss things in a more private setting. You were the last one inside while Aaron intended to be the first after he unlocked the motel to his motel room, but his golem pushed him out of the way, wanting to scope out the place for any more potential danger before all of you were heading inside.

“The rabbi who was murdered, Isaac Bass, he was my grandfather. That’s why we’re here.” Aaron explained the situation that lead all of you here. “When you guys started to follow up on his case, we started following you.”

“So, wait. What you’re saying is that you and me—we, uh, didn’t have a moment?” Dean couldn't help himself but linger back to the first encounter he had with the man that gave him the wrong impression. And made him fumble around like an idiot. You couldn’t help yourself when you rolled your eyes as you let out a sigh, wondering why he had to bring it back up in the first place.

“No, man.” Aaron said, his face scrunching up slightly. “I was tailing you.”

"Told you I was being followed. He was my gay thing." Dean turned his attention to you and his brother. You raised your brow slightly as you gave him a look, wondering why he was still going on about it longer than he should. Dean seemed to have gotten the hint. "That was really good. You really had me there. That's very smooth."

"Yeah, well, smooth's just about all I got." Aaron said. You found your gaze lingering away from the man and to the golem that had been circling around the motel, keeping a watchful eye on things. You weren't sure what to make of the golem, but it seemed his relationship with Aaron was anything but pleasant when he stared down at the man with an almost disapproving look. Aaron stared back at him, showing the thing that he wasn't in the mood to take any of his crap tonight "Yeah, that's right. Keep walking...you chia pet.”

"So, that's a golem?" Sam asked, pointing a finger to the creature that began walking around the motel once more.

“Yes. Shaped from clay and brought to life by rabbis to protect the jewish people in times of—I don’t know—general crappiness.” Aaron said. You've heard a few things about the creatures from time to time during your search, but not enough to realize they were real. Or would have been so large. You couldn't help yourself but to clarify if the one lingering around here was his. "Hardly. My grandfather left him to me. I'm the last surviving descendant of the members of this...thing, this...initiative."

"The Judah Initiative?" You asked him, wondering if that’s what he was trying to remember.

“Right, and he—”

"Who?!" You suddenly felt yourself jump out of your own skin at the booming voice coming from directly behind you that took you off guard. You peered over and then up to see it was the golem hovering over you, You smiled slightly, hoping he would get the impression that you weren't much of a threat. "Who are they to know about the Men of Judah?"

“It’s okay.” Dean reassured the golem in a slow tone of voice for him to understand. You could only presume it was more patronizing than helpful. “We are the good guys.”

"We're hunters. This is Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm Y/N Y/L/N.” You introduced yourself to the golem in more detail to let him understand you weren’t here to cause any harm. "We know about the Judah Initiative because their grandfather was a Man of Letters. My father was one, too."

“Yes.” The golem said, recognizing the title as he stared down at you and the boys, with the type of look that reassured you he wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you. “The rabbis knew the Men of Letters.”

Aaron offered all of you something to drink along the line of beer, much as you would have enjoyed one, you forced yourself to politely decline. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you liked to have the occasional one, but that wasn’t going to be possible for another several months to a year. You did however take a seat when he gestured to a couch that you happily sank down on to rest your aching feet and back. You leaned back as the boys cracked open their beers. “So...your grandfather was into all this supernatural stuff, too?” Aaron struck up a conversation when he took a seat on the chair across from Sam.

“The whole family. Mom’s side was hunters, Dad was a Men of Letters.” You told him about your history that was somewhat similar to the boys. “However they tried to hide it from me. Obviously didn’t work out too well.” “Yeah, grandparents, mom, dad, truckload of cousins—the whole family was lousy for it, but we...” Dean said, giving the man some background about his and Sam’s family to tell more about himself. While he went on, he found himself trailing off for a moment, finding his attention lingering to the giant man roaming around the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the place. “never had a golem.”

"Right. Yeah, we grew up in it," Sam said, nodding his head to his brother. "But you didn't?"

“My grandfather’s adventures, the initiative, the golem, the war—they were the stories that he told me when I was a kid. I thought it was make-believe. So did my parents. You know, fantasies to help him cope with all the horrible stuff he’d seen,” Aaron said, giving you and the boys some context  to his own past. It made sense that Aaron would have thought the rambles he heard was nothing more than stories.. Being a survivor from one of the worst genocides in human history, witnessing things that you only learned about from pure evil. “but every once in awhile, crazy old grandpa Bass would come back on one of his trips, hand me a twenty dollar savings bond, and say, ‘One day you’ll inherit the mantle.’

Sure enough, a few days after he died, this big box shows up at my apartment. He always said I'd know what to do, which was crap,” Aaron went on, growing angry as he pointed a finger to the giant that was his responsibility. “because when I opened that box, this big, naked, potato-faced lunatic wakes up and goes crazy!"

“I didn’t…” The golem stopped at the window for a moment to examine the empty parking lot to make sure there was no lurking danger in the darkness of the night. It seemed he would have begged to differ on the harsh words Aaron was speaking about him. "go crazy."

“You trashed my entertainment center!” Aaron shouted. You furrowed your brow slightly at how worked up he was getting about things that could have been easily replaced. Maybe with something better since it wasn't the nineties anymore. “He broke my water bed.”

“This boy knows nothing.” The golem said. It seemed he was growing tired of being spoken down to by the man who should have known more about his religion and took pride in after what his grandfather and others like him went through to freely practice their beliefs. “Observes none of the mitzas, labors on sabbath, dines on swine."

“Everybody loves bacon!” Aaron defended himself against judgement.

“He’s no rabbi. Yifalchunbee!" The giant shouted a word that didn't sound German from the words that you remembered, it had to Hebrew. A language you knew nothing about. Aaron seemed to understand somewhat of what it meant when he rolled his eyes, muttering about how he didn't want to start with this again. The golem didn't listen as he repeated himself to try and get through to the younger man." Yifalchunbee!”

“Enough! Please!” Aaron shouted once more in annoyance. “Quiet time!”

The golem stared down at the man before he went back to pacing around the motel. You let out a sigh from how well none of this was going for any of you. “All right. What was that?” The younger Winchester asked. “What was he saying?”

"It's Hebrew for something like 'take charge,' but I have no idea what he means." Aaron admitted to all of you. He was in the dark about all of this much as you and the boys were. "Look, I grew up in Short Hills, I cheated my way through Hebrew school. I never really listened to my grandfather, what he was saying."

"So, wait—he just sends you this golem," Dean began speaking, but dropped his voice to a more quieter tone when he noticed the very man he was talking about cross through the small living room area. "And expects you to work it out?"

“He didn’t get much chance to prepare me, I guess. My parents—they did everything they could to prevent him from screwing me up with all his crazy talk.” Aaron said. “See, after the war, my grandfather spent the rest of his life trying to track down something he called the thule society.”

“The thule society. Right." Sam said, recognizing the name. "They were Nazis."

You and Dean looked over at one another when you realized how this connected to what the two college girls you were speaking to earlier today about the hate group. "Nazi necromancers."

“N-necro-who?” Aaron asked, stuttering out the word he heard you mention.

“Necromancer—witches, sorcerers, dark magic, mostly with dead people.” You explained to him in more of a definition with the word that he would understand

"Okay." Aaron muttered to himself, not sure if he really knew what was going on here and how the two went together. "All I know about the thule is that they were this twisted, secret fraternity hell-bent on world domination, that sponsored the early days of the Nazi party. My grandfather said the judah initiative was started to fight them.”

"And the thule murdered your grandfather, boy.” The giant said, putting the pieces together himself from the knowledge he knew. “Find them so I can do my work!"

You weren't the type of person that scared easily considering the things you've seen in your time of hunting. But an almost seven foot tall person with arms bigger than your head made you a little jumpy. Without warning, the golem smashed a table into pieces slamming his fist down. His outburst made you jump slightly in the air as you subconsciously reached out a hand to grab a hold of Dean's arm, as if the giant was about to attack all of you. When you made sure that he went back on his way of roaming around the place, you calmed down slightly and composed yourself back to somewhat normal.

"Hey! Hey! We're renting here! Renting." Aaron shouted at the golem to try and get him to calm down so he wouldn't be spending any more money than he had to replace things. He let out a sigh and began rubbing his forehead out of frustration. "Look...I think the golem's right. My grandfather-- he left me this message on my machine the day he died, and he said that he had found something that the thule were willing to kill him for. He said he was hiding it here in plain sight."

Aaron pulled something out of his back pocket that appeared to be a folded up post-it note. "He left me this weird—I don't know—equation. It's not a phone number or an address or coordinates--Q-L-6-7-3-W-8?"

Dean grabbed the piece of paper from the man to see if he might be able to figure it out for himself about what it could have been. His guess was a combination, when you looked over to see what it might have been, it took a second before you realized what the letters and numbers really meant. And where you could use this information for your own benefit.

“Oh, it's a call number. Library of Congress—their filing system, they use it in college libraries. Uh, Q-L-6-7-3—that's...sciences.” You started thinking out loud about what the rabbi wanted his grandson to see and where it was stashed. When you thought back to the last bit of research he did at the college, you looked over at the younger Winchester. “Wait, Sammy. Didn’t you say the last thing Isaac checked out was bird watching?”

When Sam nodded his head, you felt your lips stretching into a victorious smirk as you snatched the paper out of the older Winchester’s hand to hold onto. You didn’t even say anything else to give the men a clue of what you were thinking about. You pushed yourself up to your feet and made your way out of the place, heading to the Impala to make a quick stop at your own motel to change clothes and then to the college library. That’s where you found find the research that caused Isaac Bass’ life.

[Next Part]

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[chibinightowl]

A Man Walks Into a Saloon

@charcoal-soul, your little head cinemas are going to be the death of me.  

For those who aren’t privy to these little headcanons, welcome to the Wild West where Bruce is the town Sheriff, Dick is his secret deputy who really has too much fun wearing a skirt, and Stephanie runs the local saloon. 

I could be persuaded to continue this. We’ll see.

~*~*~*~

Dick is a performer, through and through. It’s in his blood, is part of the very essence of who he is. But just because he’s on stage dancing his heart out in men’s burlesque show in front of a crowd of rowdy customers doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention to what’s going on around him. Bruce trained him better than that.

Not that anyone knows he’s a deputy for the wily sheriff. Much of his work here at Stephanie’s saloon is just that. Work. Bartending and running tables when he’s not on stage or rehearsing, but through it all, he keeps an eagle eye out for folks who just don’t look like they belong here. He’s gotten to a point where it’s practically a sixth sense.

And that sense is screaming at him as his blue gaze lands on the tall man who strides into the saloon and takes a seat at the bar. He looks road weary and dusty like most do in these parts, as does his companion, an equally tall woman with fiery locks barely contained in her long braid. Normally his attention would be on the redhead, especially since she’s dressed in men’s clothes rather than the divided riding skirt that’s more common in these parts, but Dick keeps going back to her dark-haired companion. There’s just something about him that sends a tingle down his spine.

This warrants further investigation.

But first, there’s a show to finish.

When he and the other men are done, they hop off stage and work the crowd. Or rather, Dick works the crowd while the others run off and change. While they’re all part of the entertainment, he’s the only one as comfortable in women’s clothing as he is men’s. And that means more tips and more attention for him. Dick has no problems playing both sides of the fence and Stephanie knows he’s more than capable of taking care of himself if someone gets too handsy.

One less thing for the saloon owner to worry about.

Dick slowly makes his way to the bar, stopping here and there as he does to chat. One woman even stopped him to ask where he found the rich blue silk that stands out so vibrantly against the black of his skirt.

“Had it special ordered from St. Louis,” he says, twirling around so she could see the full effect of it. “No offense to Mr. Pennyworth, but this just ain’t something he keeps in stock down at the general store.”

“It sure isn’t,” she agreed, her eyes lingering not only on the silk, but also on the ribbed corset in matching colors going up his waist.

Dick grins and winks at her as he walks off. The corset is strictly for show, as is the little bolero jacket he wears over it. His best friend Wally often teases him for how he looks in costumes like this, but to him, it’s all part of the act. Stephanie doesn’t care what he wears as long as it brings in customers, so he’s allowed free rein.

As he approaches the bar, he can’t help but like what he sees and wonders if maybe the shiver earlier was simply him picking up on the gorgeous hunk of a man sitting there. From behind, all he can see is broad shoulders, well muscled arms, and a solid trunk of a torso. The man’s jacket falls over the back of the barstool so Dick can’t make out the rest of the package, but so far, things look promising. Time for a closer inspection.

The stool on the man’s right is open, so Dick flops down with a flourish of silk and lace. “Hey, Steph! Got anything you’d think I like?” he calls out to the busy bartender/owner. The blonde woman knows better than to give him too much alcohol after a show (especially since he has another set in an hour) but dancing and flirting is thirsty work.

“Honey, you like it all,” she replies, dropping a pint of beer in front of him. “Try not to have too much fun in that new skirt of yours.” Steph winks and bustles off, her own purple and black striped dress looking fantastic on her. He’d ordered the silk for hers along with his own.

Dick salutes her with his glass. Turning, he looks at the two strangers and instantly, his heart starts beating harder. The woman is stunning, but the man…he can’t find words to describe him. His face looks like something out of one of Tim’s history books, the ones about Ancient Rome or Greece.

Time to turn his flirting up a notch.

“Hello, stranger,” Dick says with a saucy smile and runs a gloved hand over the smooth fabric of his skirt, outlining his thigh in the process. He picks up his beer and takes a sip, eyeing the man over the rim. The man is dressed for traveling, his dark brown leather jacket shiny with age. A dusty cowboy hat rests on the bar next to an empty shot glass and a mostly full glass of beer. “You must be new in town,” he offers with a wink. “I’d never forget a face like yours.”

The man honest to god blushes. Dick wants to crow in delight as red stains his cheeks.

“Yeah, Arty and I are just passin’ through.” The man replies as he tries for casual, even running an awkward hand through his black hair while his companion laughs boisterously. He’s young, probably around Dick’s age, but he’s got a white streak in his hair that’s rather eye-catching.

“Jay, I swear you always act like this whenever anyone hits on you.” The woman, Arty, slaps him hard on the shoulder. She catches Dick’s amused eyes. “Don’t let the blush fool you. He’s had his eye on you since we first walked in.”

Jay groans and gives Arty a good-natured shove. “Shut it.”

Dick laughs because this is just too much fun. “If it’s any consolation, I have too.” He takes another swig of beer and holds out his hand. “I’m Dick.”

The man accepts it and grips it firmly. “Jason, but I go by Jay more often than not.”

Dick reaches across Jason to shake Arty’s hand too. She also has a very firm grip. “Artemis. Only yahoos like Jay get away with Arty.”

“Noted. So, what brings you two into town?” Dick settles in for some small talk. He’s got the time but maybe if he plays his cards right, he won’t be crashing into an empty bed tonight. It’s rare that someone gets him this interested this fast, but hopefully Jason won’t be like the others.

He has a tendency to be attracted to the wrong type, usually with questionable appreciation for the law. Wally and Tim both joke about his poor taste, but Dick only has to remind them that they’re both single and to shut up, that at least he gets laid on occasion. Stephanie doesn’t run a brothel, no sirree, but she doesn’t care (much) what her employees do in their off time.

“Like I said, we’re just passin’ through,” Jason replies easily as he sips at his beer. “Wanna try and get to Colorado Springs before the end of the month. Heard tell there’s gonna be some hirin’ down there for some merchant trains and we could use the work.”

Before Dick can probe further, there’s a commotion over by the main entrance. Shouts ring out and Stephanie reaches under the bar for her shotgun.

“You assholes take it outside!” she shrieks loudly and pumps the shotgun for emphasis. “Now, before I blow someone’s hand off!”

Dick doesn’t even realize he’s stood and sits back down, but as he does, he catches sight of Jason lowering his jacket back over the gun on his belt. The stock on the revolver is inlaid with pearl. That’s an unusual sight and one that doesn’t exactly fit with the poor cowboy image the man is trying to portray.

Something isn’t right here.

He starts talking with Jason and Artemis again, casually flirting and enjoying the crap out of the blushes he gets from the other man. Soon enough, his hour is up and it’s time to get ready for his next show. As he stands, Dick runs a gloved hand over Jason’s lightly stubbled cheek. “Keep your eyes on me,” he whispers and leans in to plant a kiss where his hand just was. Jason looks startled, his deep blue eyes wide as he blushes again.

Artemis laughs raucously as Dick walks away, making sure to put an extra sway in his step.

Jason is seriously cute and Dick really wants to find out how far down his neck the man’s blush goes, but he’s still bothered by the sense that something is off about him. He’s halfway through the next set when he figures it out. Only years of performing keep him upright and in character.

The man sitting at the bar is the Red Hood.

Bruce had shown him the new wanted posters that arrived with this morning’s post. The sketch doesn’t do the man justice at all, especially since he always wears a red bandana over the lower half of his face and the brim of his black cowboy hat pulled low, but the sketch did mention his deep blue eyes.

Some additional information about him was passed along only to law enforcement, which Bruce shared with him as well. Like the pearl gripped revolver and the fact that his accomplice is suspected to be a woman. Dick remembers the poster for Artemis being even more vague as she wears a full wrap of faded red around her face and head, leaving only her eyes bare, probably to conceal her feminine features and that massive amount of red hair.

The pair are wanted in conjunction with over a dozen robberies in the last year. Almost no one is ever seriously hurt but one man was killed when he tried chasing after them. He’d been shot in the shoulder and the impact sent him flying off his horse where he then landed wrong and broke his neck. Accidental to be sure, but murder is murder.

Dick wants to groan in frustration as he kicks up his legs and dances around the stage. Why does this always happen to him? It’s like he’s one of those magnets that attracts trouble rather than iron shavings.

But he remembers Jason’s blush as he flirted with him and how sweet he is, even while telling Artemis off for ordering a third beer. This can’t be the same person that has a $500 reward for his capture.

Additional verification needs to be done first. After all, the sketches for the Red Hood Bandits are iffy at best.

It doesn’t take long for Dick to rejoin Jason and Artemis after his last performance. Stephanie drops off another beer for him, which he downs quickly. “Care to take a walk, Jay?” he asks with a wink. “I could use some fresh air.”

Artemis all but pushes Jason off his barstool. “You do too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Jason curses and mutters something that Dick doesn’t quite catch, but has his companion laughing uproariously as she slaps his hat on his head and shoves him towards the door.

Outside, the night air is cool against Dick’s flushed skin and he welcomes the change in temperature as he and Jason stroll down the wooden sidewalk. Jason’s heavy boots jingle slightly as they walk from his spurs. He awkwardly holds out his arm for Dick, who can’t help but laugh lightly at him. “I am a guy, you know. I just wear women’s clothing because it’s fun.”

“Well, my ma beat it inta me ta always offer my arm to a lady and since the one I travel with never wears a skirt…” Jason’s lips quirk in amusement.

“I accept then,” Dick replies and takes his arm. The man is taller than him but not by much. Warm too, but in a good way.

They stroll for a little ways before Jason speaks up again. “Ya know, wanderin’ off with strange men may not be the smartest thing for someone like you ta be doin’.”

Dick waves off the warning. “Thanks, but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“That so?” In the faint light from the moon, Dick catches a glint in Jason’s eyes.

Challenge accepted.

Before Jason can react, Dick has him firmly pressed against a wall, out of sight of the street and one of his secreted knives pressed lightly against his throat. “I grew up in a circus,” he breathes into the other man’s throat. “Learned a few other things besides how to put on makeup, kick up my heels, and look fabulous in a dress.”

“I see that,” Jason replies carefully, not moving in the slightest against Dick’s body, which he thinks is a crying shame. “So what now? You gonna rob me?”

Dicks smiles into the warm skin and presses his lips firmly against Jason’s fluttering pulse. “I can think of one thing I want to steal from you.”

“What’s that?”

“This.” Dick slides the knife back into his skirt and presses even more against Jason, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. The man gasps into it, startled, but then lets out one of the sweetest moans he has ever had the privilege to hear.

Oh, good lord. If Jason is the Red Hood, boy is Dick ever screwed.

[dragonbagel]

rhack single dad AU that i forgot to post here

Rhys is pretty good at handling shitty situations. He's managed to balance climbing the cutthroat Hyperion corporate ladder and paying for his lunch-leeching best friend's lunch for years, all while raising his daughter on his own after his fiancee (and the mother of his child) jumped ship.

With all his amazing skills, a stupid crush shouldn't even put a frown on Rhys' pretty, pretty face.

Except for the fact that this crush happened to be on Handsome fucking Jack.

you can read it on ao3 (there are multiple chapters)

Rhys had a crush on Handsome Jack.

He tested the weight of the words out in his mind. Rhys, a middle manager turned PA, had a crush on Handsome Jack, the terrifying CEO in charge of an entire space station.

Yeah, he was fucked.

He’d denied it at first, those strange, fluttery feelings in his stomach whenever he was around Jack. It was just nerves, it had to be. He’d never had feelings for another guy before, and the whole thing was kind of freaking him out. He’d always thought of himself as straight, and tried to remind himself of that in an attempt to will away his stupid fucking crush.

But he knew what it meant when his heart rate picked up, when his hands felt clammy and he acted even more awkward than usual. He may have spent the past few years single, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten the signs.

Rhys had a crush on Handsome Jack.

He sighed as he gathered up his belongings and exited the office. There was no way this would end well for him; but Rhys had always been a sucker for making bad decisions.

“Dad, pay attention! I asked if you wanted any more tea.”

“Hmm?” Rhys said, snapped out of his embarrassing thoughts of Jack and back into the reality of his daughter’s imaginary tea party that he was attending.

“Daaaaaad,” she whined, and Rhys flashed her a grin.

“Right, right. I’ll have another cup, your majesty.”

Tina huffed. “Well, that’s too bad, because I just gave the rest of the tea to Zer0.”

She gestured to her Vault Hunter stuffed animal, which was seated next to Rhys. He snorted; her stubbornness reminded him of himself.

“Well, if I go make you some grilled cheese, would you maybe consider getting more tea for me?”

Tina mulled the offer over for a moment before her stomach growled loudly, and Rhys laughed as he stood up from the table. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He hummed as he set about preparing dinner, glancing up every few minutes to make sure Tina was still pretending to make tea and not getting herself into trouble. Raising a kid on his own had allowed him to perfect the art of multitasking, especially now that Tina was nine with a tendency for mischief.

Well, Rhys thought he had a knack for multitasking. The smoke alarm suddenly going off proved otherwise.

“Shit!” he said, nearly burning himself in his haste to take the grilled cheese off the stove and waving away the smoke.

“Dad, you said a bad word!” Tina said, looking up from where she’d been adjusting her Axton doll in its seat. She wasn’t really fazed by the burning food, considering her dad wasn’t exactly a master chef.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rhys said quickly, scrambling to turn off the still-beeping smoke alarm. “I was too busy thinking about how excited I was for that tea.”

The real reason for his distraction was too embarrassing to admit, even to himself: I was too busy thinking about Handsome Jack.

“I’ll order us some pizza, okay?” He pulled out his ECHOcomm, entering the number he knew by heart (he’d already said he wasn’t a great cook, alright?).

“Mhmm,” Tina said, yawning as she poured imaginary tea into Rhys’ glass; he hoped the pizza would come soon, because dealing with his cranky daughter was the opposite of fun.

He slid into the seat across from her, blowing on his “tea” before miming taking a sip. “You’re too good to me, my queen.”

Tina smiled, showing off a few missing teeth. “I know.”

Rhys was exhausted when he came into work the next day. Tina had run into his room in the middle of the night hysterically crying from a nightmare, and Rhys had spent hours trying to calm her down before she finally fell asleep in his bed next to him.

“Mornin’, cupcake.”

Rhys looked up from where he’d been unloading his work bag to see Jack standing before him, flashing him with a grin.

“Hey Jack,” he said, yawning.

“You look tired,” Jack said, stating the obvious.

“Yeah, just, um, give me a sec to finish my coffee, then I’ll be good as new.” Rhys ended his sentence with a yawn before bringing his travel mug up to his lips, attempting to hide the blush on his face.

Really, Rhys? “Good as new?” What kind of lame bullshit is that?

“You’d better be,” Jack said, bringing Rhys back from his mental chastisement. “Hyperion needs you, Rhysie.”

His words sent Rhys’ mind reeling in the sappiest of directions, and he quickly nodded before he had the chance to say any more stupid crap to embarrass himself with.

“Oh, and make sure to look over that email we’re sending out to Torgue.” Jack had returned to his desk, spinning around in his chair like the hyperactive man-child he was.

“You mean the one telling them to go suck a kraggon’s dick and stop trying to copy our designs?” Rhys replied as he opened the file.

“Yep,” Jack said, laughing. “That’s the one.”

Rhys hated that Jack’s laugh sent fuzzy feelings through his entire body, even if it was at the expense of the childish email that Rhys would later have to draft an apology for.

The office was soon filled with silence aside from the clicking of keys, and Rhys wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Jack put a hand on his shoulder.

Rhys had startled at the touch, having been so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t even noticed Jack approaching him.

“Hey, kitten, why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? I’ve got an… appointment coming in for a little chat in a few minutes.”

Rhys had worked for Jack long enough to know that this was code for “some asshole is coming in and he’s not making it out alive,” and he wondered who the poor soul was this time.

“Oh, um, okay, sure. Thanks for the heads up.”

Rhys fumbled for the work he needed to finish at home as he packed up his bag, acutely aware of the fact that Jack hadn’t removed his hand from his shoulder.

“I know you’re not a huge fan of the whole bloody murder thing,” Jack said, chuckling.

Rhys shivered at the sound, praying that Jack couldn’t tell. “That’s an understatement.”

He stood up as he heard the doorbell to the office ring, frowning slightly at the loss of physical contact.

“See you tomorrow?”

Jack shot him finger guns as he exited the office, sidestepping an antsy, vaguely familiar guy from accounting (he was pretty sure Vaughn had bitched about him at one time or another). “You know it, kitten.”

Rhys was glad he was out of the office, because the obvious redness of his face was cringe-worthy in its unprofessionalism. He stopped in the Hub of Heroism to grab food, having forgotten to go on a lunch break as usual. He even bought extras to reheat for dinner that night, considering the fiasco that had been his attempt at cooking the previous evening.

The apartment, when Rhys finally arrived home to it, felt empty without Tina inside. She was usually home earlier than him, playing games with Vaughn or Yvette once they picked her up from after-school daycare. It wasn’t Rhys’ fault Handsome Jack overworked him, and he couldn’t exactly complain about his job; he had two people to support on his paycheck, and living on Helios wasn’t exactly cheap.

He watched TV as he ate his meal, then took some time to catch up on dishes and other housework that needed to be done. Tina was like a tornado tearing through the house, and her definition of “cleaning” was very different from Rhys’.

Even after his extensive cleaning, he still had a few hours before he could surprise Tina and Vaughn when they arrived. Despite all the coffee he’d had earlier, he really was exhausted, and a nap sounded heavenly.

He stripped down to his boxers and sank into the mattress with a sigh; it had been a long time since he’d been able to properly indulge in the “treat yourself” mindset. This was probably why he ended up jerking off before falling asleep.

And while he hated himself for it, he couldn’t deny that he’d done it while thinking about Jack.

Rhys was roused from his nap by the weight of a child crashing down onto him, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“Daddy, you’re home early!” Tina cried excitedly, hugging him as Rhys looped an arm around her back.

“Yep,” he said, groaning. “I think you broke like half my ribs, kid.”

“Oops!” Tina said, easing off of him but looking anything but apologetic.

Rhys grinned as he pushed her onto the sheets next to him, tickling her stomach as she screamed at him to stop. Tears had sprung in her eyes as she laughed, and she was weakly pushing at Rhys.

“What’s going on in here?” Vaughn appeared in the doorway, an amused look on his face.

“Someone just tried to crush me, so I’m getting payback.” Tina shrieked as she giggled, kicking her legs out wildly and accidentally hitting Rhys in the crotch.

Rhys stopped his attack with an “oompf,” and Vaughn had to cover his mouth to stop from laughing out loud.

“Come on, Tina,” Vaughn said, holding his hand out. “Let’s give your dad some time to get dressed. I found some Chinese food in the fridge we can eat.”

Rhys mouthed a “thank you” to his bro before shouting, “Don’t touch the tofu triangles, those are mine!”

“Nobody wants to eat your disgusting rubber food!” Vaughn called back, and Rhys heard the unmistakeable sound of his daughter’s laughter.

He rolled his eyes as he forced himself to get out of bed and put some clothes on, his stomach rumbling. He really didn’t thank Vaughn enough for all the help he’d given him, especially after…No. Don’t think about her. Don’t even think her name.

Vaughn and Tina were eating stir fry and watching cartoons when Rhys entered the kitchen, and he smiled appreciatively at his own plate of reheated food at the table. Tina had arranged the little triangles into a heart, and Rhys only hoped Vaughn had reminded her to wash her hands first.

Oh well. If he was going to die of food poisoning after this meal, it wouldn’t be such a horrible way to go.