#(prompted by Hennessy not wanting to have the same dream)

[karouvas]

one type of rep trcverse does excel at is insomniacs

[ravencyclebigbang]

Promo Week - Team #8

Writer: @inoctavo / +inoctavo How did you come up with the idea for this project? “Paint Me Like One of Your French Girls” Jordan/Declan prompt turned into letting Declan, Matthew, and Jordan process everything they went through in CDTH when all they can do is wait.

Artist: @lenaisanerd​ Why did you join this project / what are you looking forward to create? I’m excited to stretch my legs as a fanartist and to be working with some really amazing creators in this fandom.

Beta: @emjenenla​ What drove you to joining this team? I am a massive Declan stan. I am a massive Jordan stan. I am a massive Jordeclan stan. Obviously, this was just the fic for me. More seriously, I really enjoy how this fic is a speculation about what happens after the cdth, which I know is on all of our minds.

Here we present you... Post-CDTH Bubble Episode @ the Barns

When all they can do is wait, Declan’s mind catastrophizes… then tries to plan for them. It’s a good recipe to make more problems when everyone’s gone around the emotional ringer. Featuring existential crises, denial, tough decisions, Declan meeting Opal for the first time, and what prompted it all… Jordan painting Declan like one of her French girls.

“What’s the matter? Let’s work the problem,” Declan said.

“You didn’t feel that?” Jordan asked. Finally she turned to face him. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated like this was the middle of the night, instead of late morning.

“What did you feel?” Declan asked. He would keep asking until she explained. The lost feeling she gave off had been there since they parted ways with Hennessy, but they hadn’t known each other long enough for him to tell if this was more lost.

“The worst…” Jordan motioned forward toward the empty road. “It’s like seeing all the girls’ bodies again. Hennessy dreaming. The horror and panic… Nearly drowning…”

Declan looked at her blankly. “It felt the same as this whole drive has felt,” he said. They stared at each other the way people must have stared at the Tower of Babel. There were words words words but no understanding.

In the resounding silence that sat between the two front seats, Matthew leaned between them, one earbud swinging forward even after he stopped. “It makes me feel like I don’t have internal organs,” he contributed. The silence stretched on. Jordan squinted at Matthew. Declan didn’t want to explain it to her. One existential crisis was enough for a car.

“Can you drive us the rest of the way to the Barns?” Declan asked. Her hands tightened on the wheel, like it was the only thing keeping her alive. It had been a lure, her reward for doing what Hennessy asked, for Hennessy’s sake. Her knuckles paled again, and faint synth pop filled the car from the loose headphone. Declan waited, one eye on the rearview mirror, just in case someone came up behind them while they straddled the border between public and private property.

Jordan sighed. “Switch seats with me,” she said.

Declan nodded, an acknowledgement. Like the human he was, he unbuckled his seat belt, opened his car door, and walked around the front of the car — it was still in reverse — to the driver’s side. By the time he opened the door, Jordan had mostly wiggled her way across into the passenger seat. They closed their car doors at the same time.