#I WAITED SO PATIENTLY LIKE A DOG EVER SINCE THE TRAILER CAME OUT AND THEY PLAYED THIS SONG

[vaggieslefteye]

♫ TOP 5 FAVORITE HAZBIN HOTEL SONGS ♫ 𝄞 1ꜱᴛ place - Ready For This

― FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OUR LIVES, WE KNOW THAT WE ARE READY FOR THIS ― We'll show Heaven a fight they won't forget! (ah, aah, ah) ― IT IS TIME TO TAKE A STAND ― It is time to lend a hand (HUZZAH!) against the angels and their deadly threat! ― WE CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE THE TIME HAS COME TO GO TO WAR PREPARE TO FIGHT WE'RE READY FOR THIS! ― I really hope that I'm ready for this...

‹♪›

[creativeashproductions]

What's a Knife Between Onscreen Family // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Filming an emotionally wrought scene on the set of your current role as a regular goes very wrong very fast. Expecting the scene to be the most taxing of the day you find yourself in the ER getting a transfusion. It’s all fun and games until someone’s holding a sharp knife incorrectly, guess it’s just something in common with co-star Jared Padalecki.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fear, injuries, hospital, needles, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.5k (including lyrics)

A/N: I watched a part of a panel from a Supernatural con and found it hilarious that Jensen accidently stabbed Jared. So I had to write that for a Charlie Gillespie fic. Link to the video talking about the stabbing is right below this message.

Jensen Ackles Accidentally Stabbed Jared Padalecki during filming From 1:00-6:00

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Masterlist

It had to be one of the most emotionally taxing scenes in your entire career as an actress on a physically demanding show. The scene had been incredibly mentally draining the daughter of a Winchester. It had been once season recurring, one series regular and now filming the third season. As the teenage Winchester, it threw a wrench in all the plans and the reckless character gave no shits.

“Okay, this is our last scene for the day!” Robert Singer, the director of his episode, called out from off stage. Standing at the top of the stairs in the Bunker, you jumped in close with a scrunched nose at the squishy sound.

Over the railing, both Jared and Jensen nodded their support from the ground level with concerned expressions. Ever since you joined the cast in season 13, they had become fathers to you. The sight of you drenched in stage blood was enough to churn their stomachs.

“I gave you the barebones of the scene so work with it. Briar’s traumatized after fighting for her life and has been gone for a while.” Robert explained, “Cas couldn’t find her. I want this to be a tribute like Dean in season 10 episode 14: The Executioner’s Song.”

Taking a deep breath in your emotions channelled into a hurricane in your chest, clenching your fingers on the knife.

“Action!”

Pacing the floor plan of the Bunker is two brothers bonded by sorrow, pain, sacrifice and love. Each throwing out locations on where Briar could be, Jack and Cas had been little help. Sam’s heart clenched tight bypassing images straight to torture. The kind of torture he had endured over the years.

Dean’s mouth opened to suggest another place when the Bunker door creaked open. The red converse appeared before the soggy jeans as the teen slowly made her way down the steps. Briar Winchester shook like a leaf staring off in the distance as the blood congealed on her face and hands.

“Briar.” Dean slowly spoke, moving towards the girl. His green eyes lit up in fury as the seventeen-year-old flinched back. Dean’s hand gently took the stained knife from the young girl.

“I-I didn’t mean to do it.” The meek voice appeared so unlike the usual confidence Briar talked with. In exhaustion, Briar’s knees collapsed, sending the teen right into Dean’s arms.

The stoic man gripped the youngest Winchester as his waist bearing her weight against his while Sam circled to be behind Dean. The choked sob echoed by another escaped the family huddle; one from Briar and the other from Dean.

“Dad.” Briar choked clenching her arms around the green-eyed adult’s shoulders, craving the safety of her father.

Ever since Dean could remember he had had a strict rule of always practising safe sex, he didn’t want a kid. Not in a world that had it out for Winchesters and not one where he might hold his child’s dead body in his arms. That all changed when Cas delivered Dean to a county jail where Briar was held just for a minor assault charge on a wealthy bully.

Dean never let himself want a future with the picket fence and the dog in the backyard but when Briar changed that. Dean would do anything for his family no matter the cost. Example: Selling his soul for Sam.

“Sh.” Dean spoke kissing the crown of her hair he savoured having his child safe in his arms, “I’ll help you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. We’ll heat some soup and toast.”

On autopilot, Dean helped Briar down the hall to the bathroom where she would freshen up and later burn the unsalvageable clothing. As Dean returned to Sam’s side, Castiel came with a sombre expression and an explanation.

“Dean. Sam.” Cas greeted them, flicking his blue gaze between the two brothers. The faint sound of the shower only picked up by the trained heightened sense of hearing from years of watching over their backs.

“Cas what the hell happened?” Dean demanded, “Why the hell is my little girl bruised and coated in blood?”

END FILMING SCENE

“Cut!” Robert called out to the large room with a big smile on his face, “I’ll watch it back. See if we need more takes.”

Jared and Jensen wiped the tears that fell from their cheeks just thinking on how wrought that scene felt. As fathers seeing a young adult in such a state severely agonized them. The duo jogged to see your back against the cold wall—a pinched expression marring your young face.

“How are you feeling after that?” Jensen asked, coming closer to squeeze your shoulders unfazed by the sticky fake blood. It was already all over his clothes from hugging you in character.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to have sharp objects.” You spoke glancing down at your knee that had been punctured by the knife. The dark jeans soaked in stage blood now concealed the real blood.

 “Jensen, did you really stab another person.” Jared deadpanned his best friend referencing back a few years. Jared shoved one hand through his hair, receiving a nasty glare from the hairstylist on call.

The glare on Jensen’s face blistered the taller actor, “I didn’t stab you. You walked into the knife.”

The two bickered as they guided you back to the main stage where Robert had reached a final verdict. He had watched the replay twice along with his crew finding the raw emotion to be perfect. The little detail the three had added was well played. Dean unexpectedly consoling his daughter in tears; no threats to kill or push her to tell him what happened. The first time Briar referring to Dean as her father. Lastly, Sam’s unsure actions in consoling a young girl sucked into life like he was in his youth.

“We got a one-take winner!” Robert called out sending the entire crowd into loud applause and cheers. Jared taking most of your weight as you hobbled to the costume trailer.

The lovely costume designers helped remove the sticky shirt, jewellery and the red converse that had once been white. Only the jeans remained on your body to not mess with the wound. As much as you’d love to shower the blood off, it was near impossible, moving your knee stung and it was best to avoid aggravating it.

“Someone needs to ban Jensen from knives. Just wait till his wife finds out about this, she adores Y/N.” Martha chuckled from her sketches she designed on her breaks for a future in fashion design. Often in your free time, you would be her guinea pig with her designs using refurbished material.

Normally the banter would continue but not when your leg was bleeding, and Jared was taking you to the ER. To make time faster, Jared had scooped you into his arms to the black car their driver waited in.

“Towels are in place. Sorry, you got hurt, Kid.” Clif spoke, opening the door to the backseat where Jensen sat patiently. Unlike usual, he had seated himself in the front so you could stretch in the back.

A weak chuckle met air in the packed car from the blood loss that wasn’t overly bad but enough that Jared took the towel. His pressure on the wound caused a yelp that had Jensen flinching in guilt.

“The knife must have been sharp to cut a mouse in half,” Clif muttered turning towards the hospital close to set. Coincidently the drive took you passed the set your boyfriend currently filmed at.

“Might as well call me butter.” You retorted wincing at the throbbing pain, “You aren’t allowed any more sharp objects, Mr. Ackles.”

“Danneel already threatened to hide all the knives in the house.” The on-screen father laughed as the tension decreased in the small car. Despite the dizziness, it didn’t hide the guilt in Jensen’s green eyes.

Time flew by as you found yourself in a bed for observation and pictures for the knee. It came as a shock when the doctor requested one blood transfusion for the blood loss. The hope of being in and out had evaporated like water beads on a blistering summer day.

Julie and the Phantoms Set

Charlie adored his life as an actor where he was free to visit places, he might not have had the opportunity to do. He made friends with everyone he spoke to and even met the love of his life as an actor as well.

That being said today had been the longest one with a full schedule and barely time for lunch or snacks. Even a nap was unachievable, and he desperately wanted one for being awake for hours by now.

“Charlie! Did you know you’ve got missed calls?” Jeremy inquired, staring at the phone that went black once more. Charlie’s eyebrows came together at the mention. His family had the rough outline of times he would be unavailable to talk.

Stepping back from the craft table’s supper options, he lifted the phone from the table, bringing it to life. His lock screen showing multiple missed calls and voicemails from you, his family and two unknown numbers.

His jaw dropped further when Meghan called for the first time out of the group, “Megs?”

“Finally! Where have you been?” Meghan demanded pacing in the studio she had been using when she got the call. The pretty and successful young woman had gotten terrified at learning about Y/N.

“Filming? It’s the longest day of filming the show. It’s on the family schedule.” Charlie spoke, settling into one of the empty tables. His eyes watching the people entering and exiting the tent set up for food.

“Jesus. Mom called me when you didn’t pick up. Y/N’s in the hospital.” Meghan revealed sending the Canadian actor into a stiff posture. His hazel eyes blow wide and panic flooding his entire system.

“What?!” Charlie didn’t mean to shout nor turn paler than a piece of white paper, but it happened. The volume contracting looks from everyone in the vicinity. Owen even dropped the donut back in the box by the volume.

“She got stabbed with a knife. I sent the address earlier, and I haven’t gotten a lot of info.” Meghan told her older brother, “I know she’s getting a blood transfusion, but nothing else was released.”

Charlie couldn’t tell you what happened between Meghan telling him and reaching the hospital frantically. Nor could he figure out how Owen was in the back of the Uber with him guiding him through exercises; all thanks to Owen’s therapist for his anxiety.

His sneakers squeaked on the polished white floor in his mission to the receptionist transferring information from a chart to digital. Charlie’s painting brought him attention from the kind nurse acknowledging his presence.

“Just let me finish this one sentence.” The nurse hummed saving the information before turning their full attention to the frazzled male, “How can I help you?”

“What room is Y/N Y/L/N in? She was stabbed and needed a transfusion.” Charlie demanded deflating as Owen placed a hand on his shoulder. The Canadian’s eyes bright with panic and a deep fear

The nurse’s eyes softened, “I can’t give out information on patients unless your immediate family members.”

“I’m here-“

“Husband! He’s her husband, they eloped so she hasn’t changed her last name or updated her information.” Owen blurted out, rubbing the pad of his index finger on the black jeans he had worn for his role. The two hadn’t even bothered changing into their street clothing.

The nurse nodded their head-turning back to the computer to enter the name for the patient for the information. It took seconds before the nurse wrote on the miscellaneous sticky note of the ward and room number.

“My name is Riley. If you need any help, you can come back here, and I’ll do my best to give you answers.” Nurse Riley informed the duo with a kind smile nodding in the direction of your hospital room.

Owen’s long legs ate up the distance Charlie made in his sprint to the stairwell, “Shouldn’t we take the elevator?”

“My girlfriend is in a hospital bed. I can’t wait for an elevator.” Charlie rebuked the suggestion on the second flight. Owen’s sigh was the last sound made as the duo slammed into the door to the floor level.

Charlie and Owen appeared in the doorway of your hospital room panting from the exertion meeting the gaze of two actors. Charlie’s heart stuttered at the sight of the high volume of blood in your clothing and your hair.

The sharp gasp brought your attention to the shaking Canadian actor solely focused on scanning for wounds. His eyes barely staying on the two adult males you had been starring with for a few years. Schedule conflicts often led to no introduction to each other’s co-stars.

“What the hell?” Charlie choked stumbling to the chair beside your hospital bed next to the pole holding a blood bag, “Did you get mugged? Are you okay?”

“Char, take a breath, man.” Owen’s blue eyes shadowed with the worry as Charlie’s breathing shuddered. Owen could barely look at you covered in blood.

“Whoa! Charlie. I’m fine. This is stage blood. We had an intense scene, and there was a minor accident.” Your voice soothed the man gently taking Charlie’s hand to comfort him, “I lost a bit of blood. The doctor decided to give me a blood transfusion to bring my levels back up a bit before stitching it up.”

“How do you get stabbed accidently?” Owen questioned glancing at the two men standing silently in the corner. Due to contracts on the Supernatural set details of scenes and storylines was off-limits.

“Well, during filming, I took a knife from her, and she walked into the blade?” Jensen trailed off, shoving his elbow into Jared’s side at the scoff. It happened every time it was brought up.

“I-“Charlie blinked, shaking his head as he took a deep sigh in pushing that to the back burner to focus solely on you. His hand rubbed his face while he settled on squeezing your one hand in both of his.

The touch of your skin grounding him back to earth with the shattering visions of walking into the world without you. It would be both ways, the second his calloused warm skin brushed your hands; it was like the pain faded. Only a sense of content settled in your weary bones.

“Okay Miss Y/L/N.” Dr. Clancy walked into the room only halting to grab a pair of medical gloves, “I see your entourage grew. I’m Doctor Jim Clancy, and you must be Miss Y/L/N’s husband.”

Three pairs of eyes widened at the doctor’s words aimed towards the brunette actor turning a blushing mess. The words mouthed by Charlie to go with it gave barely any insight, but you did it. The moment you had a free minute with Charlie, you would interrogate him in the new title you had.

“Yeah, my husband.” You spoke flicking an expression to Jensen and Jared that caught on from the years together. They had taken you under their wing on your first day on set, and then you became family with their immediate family.

“I can confirm that my initial observation is that the wound doesn’t have anything that shouldn’t be in there. We stopped the bleeding, the x-ray came clean, we’ll set you up with IV fluid, and tetanus shot to be safe.”

“Nurse Gellar here will cut the rest of the jeans off, get you in a gown for a few hours of observation. Just a precaution for blood transfusions. We’ll have some scrubs you can wear when you can leave.” Dr. Clancy motioned to the tall redhead with a quiet demeanour.

Charlie’s lips lingered on your temple at the fear that flared in your expressive eyes, he would give anything to take your place. He softly sang your couple song as a whimper fell from your lips as the jean tugged the dried blood from the wound. The painful pressure felt as you guessed it had started to bleed again, the feel of liquid rolling down your skin, confirming it.

“I’ll sing anything.” Charlie whispered going through his mental catalogue of songs on your shared playlist, “Oh!”

I’m booking myself a one-way flight

 I gotta see the color in your eyes

 And telling myself I’m gonna be alright

 Without you baby is a waste of time

The tears falling no longer came from the pain but the sheer amount of love you had for the man there. Eyes glittering with pure adoration as his voice came off absolutely heart-melting. So, lost in each other neither of you noticed Owen had been filming from the moment Charlie had said ‘oh’.

Yeah, our first date, girl, the seasons changed

 It got washed away in a summer rain

 You can’t undo a fall like this

 ’Cause love don’t know what distance is

 Yeah, I know it’s crazy

Charlie’s hand slowly slid up your arms to cup your tear-streaked tacky cheeks in his warm grip. The hospital faded as it became just you and Charlie. Completely oblivious at the audience in the room.

“He loves her,” Jensen whispered to Jared out of the camera frame that the blonde-haired kid’s phone. It was such a pure moment it felt disrespectful to see this exchange but also honoured to see it firsthand.

“I’ve only seen the look in your eyes for Danneel,” Jared replied, cupping his hands over his face listening to the near inaudible wet chuckle you gave.

“As I have between you and Gen. They have the real kind of love.” 

But I don’t want “good”, and I don’t want “good enough.”

 I want “can’t sleep, can’t breathe without your love”

 Front porch and one more kiss, it doesn’t make sense to anybody else

“Charlie.” You sobbed at the best part of your life serenading you in such a romantic moment at the odd setting—his hazel gaze greener in what would come to be a very dear memory to reminisce about.

The calloused thumb caressing your cheek wiping a teardrop away he continued to see as the doctor finished suturing the wound. 

Nothing mattered other than the couple currently in a bubble.

Who cares if you’re all I think about,

 I’ve searched the world and I know now,

 It ain’t right if you ain’t lost your mind.

 Yeah, I don’t want easy, I want crazy

 Are you with me baby? Let’s be crazy

Charlie’s voice faded with the rest of the song bringing you back to reality with the nurse cleaning up around the wound. That’s how the rest of the day went on waiting for the blood transfusion and IV fluids to finish. You stuffed the tetanus shot while Charlie sang between different genres.

“Thank you.” You softly spoke with Charlie being the only one left in the room with you.

Owen had headed back to their set to finish a scene while giving the updates on you while Jared and Jensen grabbed food. J2 had been very clear they would get Martha to grab some clothing for when they came back. Jensen was determined to deliver you to your home as the first action to make it up to you.

“For what?” Charlie questioned as your index and thumb picked at the cuticles of the opposite hand. Your eyes were hidden from your boyfriend’s gaze.

“For dropping everything to be here.” The words were quiet in the room only filled with breathing and the heart machine you had to be hooked up to.

“My girl-“

“Don’t you mean wife?” You teased brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead taking in the man you had the honor of loving. Of waking up next to in the apartment, you’d been renting ever since you landed the role on Supernatural; overtime Charlie’s things had just accumulated there.

“It was the only way they’d let me in.” Charlie spoke sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, “It’s a little early to call you, but I’m excited to make you my last girlfriend and then my only wife.”

The chuckle fell from your lips, “So, you want to marry me?”

“In front of all our family and friends. Tucked away from the media to celebrate the love we have for each other.” Charlie spoke, “There’s no one else I’d like by my side for the rest of my life.”

A new flood of tears welled at the sincerity in his voice and the warmth laden in his eyes of kaleidoscope colours. Sometimes, depending on his emotion or his clothing, his eyes would be greener, or when he was happy, they had a blue tinge in the green in sadness or your favourite; brown with the swirls of green.

“How did I get so lucky to have the absolute honour to fall in love with you?” Your words created a swell of emotion in the Canadian’s heart.

“The same way whatever deities there are took pity on a boy from Dieppe by bringing him an angel.” Charlie words preceded the kiss on your lips with a grin as you chased his lips after. With one last peck, he leaned back with a fond expression.

“Seriously how do you get stabbed accidently?” Charlie chortled with that gorgeous smile lighting up the room more than the white lights.

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[earthlyemily]

I’m struggling so much financially and honestly just wanted to vent somewhere. I’ve always lived in poverty and I think in my whole life I’ve had maybe 2 years where I didn’t have to stress about money and not be able to buy groceries or pay rent or be put into collections for not being able to make payments etc and that was when I was in college. For at least the past 5 years I’ve been struggling but I never talk about it. I don’t even know where to start haha I don’t even know what it’s like to not stress financially and be in debt. I’ll just start with the first things that come to mind with what I’m owing maybe. So it’s Dec. 23 and rent was due yesterday because we moved into this small suite attached to someone’s house on Nov. 22. It’s $1200 which is so expensive, but also the average price for BC if not even cheaper for a one-bedroom with a yard, utilities included. and no first and last, no pet deposits, etc because this is just short them for 4 months until the end of March because i reached out and asked and they said yes.

After 1 month I already remember why we went into the trailer almost 2 years ago and it’s literally because we can’t afford any other lifestyle. I think that’s the difference between us and some people that live in trailers, vans, etc. like we lived in a mouse & mouse shit infested trailer for 6 months breathing in their feces and urine and having it all over all our belongings. i literally had to take my whole life to the dump and we officially have no food storage because they ruined it all. there were at least 50-60 mice because a few birth cycles happened in the ceiling. I could write a whole post about my experience of living with field mice, but now isn’t the time so for rent, i only had $600 yesterday so that’s what I gave them. thank goodness they were okay with me asking for a few more days to make the other half. but I don’t even know when that’s going to be :(

my etsy shop veganveins has been doing so bad lately for more than one reason, most of my orders are just postcards and stickers, and while I’m grateful for them, that $1-3 profit isn’t going to keep my business going. and it’s so hard for me to work lately. the wifi doesn’t work sometimes for hours and I always get distracted by shawn and the dogs working from home in a small space. I need to get better at my time management. I got up at 8:30 today which is actually early for me so I’m proud of myself. I’m chronically ill and I really need to go get a blood test and see what’s happening because I haven’t gotten one since being diagnosed with graves disease again 1.5 years ago. anyways. i switched to a print on demand method this year for veganveins for some shirts and sweaters because i couldn’t afford to keep ordering shirts in bulk, and it’s honestly been so, so expensive and i barely make any profit. I’m currently owing my t-shirt printer $999 on one invoice (it was originally $2196 so I’ve at least paid half of it) but that was 2 weeks ago and I still need to pay it. Mario, my t-shirt printer has been with me since I started veganveins and I’m so grateful he gives me extensions on paying the invoices. every other t-shirt printer I’ve ever asked has said no. in addition to the $999 there’s going to be another $2200 invoice I’ll be receiving this week for my last order. I think because of the holidays he’s going to give me some time to pay off that too, but the problem is when I have outstanding invoices he doesn’t print new orders for me. He’s closed now until Jan. 4 so I just need to somehow make that much before then.

btw I don’t have a credit card ($8500 all used on veganveins and it got put into collections last march) and I had a fully used $5000 line of credit but I got a debt consolidation loan for $16,000 1 month ago and my payment for that is $167 a month. it fully paid off and closed my credit card and line of credit + $3000 overdraft which is nice. but now I don’t have any extra money except for what comes in. my credit is only 640 which is really bad in canada so I won’t get approved for a new credit card or loan until I build that up, which is going to be a few months of regular payments. so for regular payments, the $167 for the loan is due on Dec. 27. Yesterday the trailer loan which is literally unliveable from what the mice did until we renovate it came out for $260, that’s how much I pay once a month for it on the 22nd. I didn’t have $260 in my account so it got rejected and I got charged a $48 NSF fee. omg if anyone is reading this long i’m shook. i’m genuinely just writing this for myself to process my feelings and in case anyone was curious about my financial situation here you go haha. maybe some of you can relate, maybe some can’t. anyways. so now I somehow have to get $260 in my account for that for when they try to take it out again in the next few days.

another payment that was supposed to come out yesterday but hasn’t, but I’m sure will come out today is our truck loan. they deferred it for 8 months because of covid which was so nice, but we started paying it again 2 months ago. for both those months I called and made my payment a later date and that helped, but there’s barely any service here so when I called 4 times yesterday to try and change the date the payment comes out, I was on hold for 20-30 mins then my phone would disconnect and hang up. so that’s $586 and it will come out today, I have $0.46 in my account right now so it will get rejected and I’ll get charged another $48 NSF fee. this is why being poor always costs more and the banks are always harsher on those who don’t have money. today I’ll try calling again to see if I can ask for it to come out on a different day like january 10 instead, so I can first have time to pay rent and the trailer and also our $190 truck insurance which got rejected from my account 3 days ago, which was another $48 NSF fee. oh and something else i’m so stressed about is CIBC is going to put me into collections on December 28 if I don’t pay $1000, $700 of which is purely their fees. I have a $300 overdraft which they said i have to cover by then and the $700 is literally their $48 fees added up over the past 3 months. I got a text from them today saying my account is over and it’s because an amnesty international $11 monthly donation came out and obvi there’s no money in there, so that’s another $48 they charged. they’ve already given me a month to pay it and don’t want to wait any longer :(

I owe everyone in my family money, my sister $1650, my mom $700 and my brother also lent me $700. none of my siblings have money either and my mom definitely doesn’t so I hate that i had to borrow that much, and it’s literally been months. thankfully they’re so patient but i can’t wait to not owe them that

omg and i can’t even think about the amount of money shawn’s grandma has lent us. she’s genuinely the only reason we haven’t been completely homeless. but it’s a lot. like i don’t even want to say the number on here. she let us use it from her line of credit over the years and we’ve been slowly paying her back, but she lets us go months at a time without making a payment which i honestly hate doing, but have no choice. i’ve felt a lot of shame and guilt about this, but I also know that she genuinely would rather help us than see us suffer.

so i’m gonna talk about a big reason I’m broke this month especially - saving a pig named buster. his rescue cost me $1850 out of pocket that I didn’t have. but otherwise he was going to be killed in 2 days, he was my baby and I loved him so I had to do it. I somehow made $1350 that went towards it but I’m still owing $500, which I just asked for an extension for today until the new year. i’m not really supposed to talk about it but everything I’ve ever posted here has stayed here, so that cost was literally just from me buying the pig off the farmer. myself along with everyone else ive talked to is disgusted that he charged that much, but he wasnt budging and if that’s what it was going to take, of course I’m going to do it. I wouldn’t think twice about doing it for my dogs and Buster was smarter and more affectionate than them. i love him and I’m so happy he was saved. a non-profit organization transported him to a sanctuary and it was my biggest wish come true and the happiest moment I’ve had all year. my eyes are literally tearing up haha i love him so much. i could write a whole post about his neglect but basically he hasn’t had fresh water in weeks, he was only being fed handfuls of mixed nuts, he was constantly dirty in a muddy enclosure with an electric fence that he was always getting shocked on. he never got true love or affection except for when I gave him it. i posted an instagram story about him and asked people to message me and that i needed help, 2 people donated $111 and $120 each, and 2 other people donated $15 and $12. Someone also e-transferred me $20. These 4 donations equaled almost $300 ($277) and I was so grateful for those people wanting to help me help buster. if anyone else wants to help me with the cost of his rescue i still do need help and would appreciate it so much. this feels really weird and vulnerable for me to do and i’m sorry if anyone is annoyed by this post, I just genuinely am struggling and figured if someone does have extra and wants to help, there isn’t harm in that. but i do feel guilty for asking because i know there are so many other people struggling out there that need even more help than i do :(

i haven’t talked about it publically but i guess I will now, this farmer that I bought buster off of is the owner of the organic vegetable farm i was living and working at this past spring and summer. we worked really hard all summer to be able to stay there and park for free in the winter, but this past fall he told us no one was allowed to stay at the farm anymore, including us, so we had to find a new place to bring our 14ft trailer in to live. so that was an unexpected bummer and if we had known we wouldn’t be allowed staying there anymore (despite doing the labour of $1200 a month for free harvesting organic kale, for an off-grid spot he told us was worth $350 a month to park) we wouldn’t have driven 8 hours with the trailer and we would have stayed in the snow in northern BC and sucked it up and lived on the land we got the opportunity to rent this fall. Donna, the woman who is renting the land to us has been the biggest blessing in my life this year. I love her so much. Basically, she’s letting us live on 170 acres for $600 a month. letting us do whatever we want on the land (building a cabin, setting up rainwater catchment systems, having a solar passive greenhouse and a huge garden) LIKE WHAT. we could even open a farm sanctuary if we had money, i wanted to so bad but obviously that dream didn’t even come close to being reality. opportunities like this literally don’t exist in canada, especially not in BC. i cant even process my gratitude, i cry everytime i think about it. when we go back in the spring it’s going to be the beginning of the rest of our life :) i want to rescue so many senior dogs. everything we’ve always wanted to do we’ll be able to do, assuming we have money haha. but i want to have an organic farm and grow veggies to donate to families in need, especially since we live on stolen indiginious land and I see how the goverment actively restricts their access to fresh healthy produce. but anyways by then it was too dangerous to drive 8 hours back hauling a trailer in the snow and it was just easier to stay in the okanagan until the spring. i know the farmer probably doesn’t realize this and he’s also probably struggling financially but not being able to stay at the farm for the winter months we worked for, and buying buster for that price is a big reason I’m in the financial stress I am now so I figured i’d talk about it.

anyways. i think this is long enough and i think anyone reading this gets the point, i’m drowning in debt, my small business is almost costing me more to run and i’m not making nearly enough profit to live, the past few months ive been living off grid (not by choice) and just focused literally on surviving and not freezing and getting water etc and not having service or internet has affected me negatively. there’s internet now in the suite I’m in, it works really good in the morning and not as well at night, like for example tumblr doesn’t work past 5 pm for me to post photos. but ive been in a bad sleep schedule since i got here that i need to change. im sick and i need to heal myself. tomorrow i’ll set my alarm for 7:30. hopefully i make some money today. i got a social media managing job and it will end up being $1000 a month once i do the 3+ hours a day of work which im already feeling like i barely have time for my own basic life tasks. but i can do this.

if anyone reading this wants to help me out a bit, my paypal email is emilymiddin@hotmail.com or http://www.paypal.com/paypalme/veganveins

and my e-transfer email is emilymiddin@icloud.com i have auto deposit so you won’t have to ask a question :)

this is my first time in 7 years i’ve made a post like this or asked for help. i won’t do it again but figured i have nothing to lose. if you read up to here i love you a lot and thank you so much for being here <3

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XXXII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 32

Word-count: 4.6k+

A/N: hands up who thought we’d survive getting to senior (technically junior) year?

The good news: You survived months of professional assassins trying to murder everyone you loved and months of being held prisoner by an evil fox spirit, and you passed all your finals. You were a junior now. The bad news: It was a full moon and you were chained to a tree to keep from murdering your aforementioned loved ones. And the blood on Liam’s hands didn’t make it any easier to stay in control. 

You’d been through this so many times with Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Malia, Scott, and Liam, but you never understood how much the moon changed them. You knew about it, on paper, but actually experiencing it was a completely different story. 

As cheesy and disgusting as it sounded, focusing on Stiles was the only thing that kept you in control. You’d tried other, less cliche, methods with Scott to prepare but none of them stuck - at least not the way listening to Stiles’ heartbeat stuck. 

He was nervous tonight, but not because of you or Liam. He was nervous because tonight was the first phase of his grand plan for the pack to stay together after senior year. If you were going to be stuck in Beacon Hills for another year, you weren’t sure how you fit into that grand plan.

Lightning struck overhead and Stiles’ heart leaped for a second. “Do you think it’s been long enough?” he asked Scott. 

“Yes!” Liam yelled from the tree next to you. 

“Hey,” Stiles said as they turned to look at the two of you. “We’re trying to have an adult conversation over here. Not you, babe. You’re-”

“Alright, that’s disgusting and you’re only two years older than me,” Liam said. “And I’m fine. Just let me go.” 

“Are you sure?” Scott asked as he hopped off the Jeep’s hood. He made his way over with the key for all the locks and chains as the sky rumbled overhead. 

Liam complained some more about how of course he was sure and you just tried to not look like you were dying as they came over. 

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Scott started, doing his best to keep the peace. 

“It’s that I don’t trust you,” Stiles said - peace be damned - before looking over to you. “Again, babe, not you-” 

“It was one slip up!” Liam whined. 

“Slip up?” Stiles repeated. “A dozen calls to the Sheriff's Department about a ‘monstrous dog-boy’ running around the streets of Beacon Hills naked. That slip up?” 

You frowned as Stiles helped you out of all the chains. His hands were warm and you leaned on him more than you should have when he held you in his arms. Focusing on staying in control and blocking out the impending storm was a lot more tiring than you expected. “Hey, biscuit, why were you naked?” 

“It was really hot out that night, okay?” Liam said defensively. “Let me go. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re in complete and total control?” Scott asked. 

You wanted to say something about the blood but something in Liam’s face changed your mind. He’d been so sweet with helping you these past few nights; it kind of felt like you owed him one.

“Yeah,” Liam lied. “Complete and total.” 

“Great, then let’s get on the road,” Stiles said, squeezing your arm for a second before letting go to scoop up all the chains. 

You walked ahead with Scott so you could get settled in the backseat of the Jeep. You sighed and leaned your head against the window as you tried to breathe. Scott was leaning in through the window and looking at you when you opened your eyes again. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

“I think so,” you said. “Still a little new at this.” 

“You’re doing great,” Scott said with a smile. He tapped against the side of the Jeep before moving out of the way so Liam could pile in.

Liam and Stiles had been arguing from the moment they got in the car to the moment Stiles pulled over to check what was wrong with the Jeep, and the ceasefire was only because you and Liam had to stay in the car. Liam looked at you for a second before offering you one of his earbuds. You shook your head and he shrugged before popping one in his ear. 

You yanked it out as lightning struck the ground about fifty feet away. The sound made your skull want to explode. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Liam asked. 

The lightning struck again and the two of you jumped in your seats. Both of you scrambled to hang out the Jeep’s windows, despite the strike still ricocheting through your head. 

“Guys!” 

“Yeah, give us a second, please,” Stiles said, ripping another piece of duct tape for the engine. 

“Just stay in the car, okay?” Scott asked. 

“We’re still in the car but-” you were cut off by another lightning strike, this time maybe ten feet away from where Scott and Stiles were fiddling with the engine. 

Stiles’ heartbeat raced. “That was close,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. “Very close.” 

Scott slammed the Jeep’s hood shut a second before it kicked back to life. You’d never seen the two of them jump like that because of an inanimate object. Well, excluding that time in sixth grade but you tried not to dwell on it.

“Okay, will you please get in the car now?” you asked, voice strained. You didn’t like the sound of Stiles’ heart beating like that and you definitely didn’t like how close that lightning was. 

All the excitement made you lose control for a second and you dug your nails into your palms to keep your cool. Pain made you human. Pain made you- Stiles slipped his hand through the gap between the door and his seat. Maybe pain wasn’t the only thing that made you human. 

You held his hand the rest of the way to Malia’s. Usually, you were the one that got smushed into the middle seat, but tonight you made Liam do it. No one seemed to mind until he brought up Malia’s super secret summer school adventure.

“You told him?” Malia asked. 

“Oh, no. All they said was that you had to go to summer school ‘cause the principal said your test scores weren’t good enough and you might have to repeat junior year,” Liam said with a smile. 

“We should’ve left him chained to the tree,” Stiles mumbled under the wrath of Malia’s glare. 

Malia tightened her jaw and you reached your hand over Liam to find her. “Hey,” you said gently. “I went to summer school too, remember?”

Malia didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive to the hospital, and you didn’t think she’d say anything else while the two of you waited in the hospital for Scott and Stiles to get back. 

“I still don’t know why you and I are here,” she said eventually, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Because I’m not a senior and you’re undetermined?” you asked, turning around to look at her. You closed your eyes for a second to block out the hospital lights. 

Malia didn’t notice. “I just think … shouldn’t we wait until we know for sure?” 

“Probably,” you said with a sigh. “But this is really important to Stiles, so even if I’m not technically allowed at Senior Scribe, I’m still gonna- Oh, here they come. That’s still so weird.”

“You get used to it,” Malia shrugged.

“-Like what?” Scott asked when they were close enough. 

“Like, uh, ‘Don’t worry, we’re not exclusive. Go have fun with other guys,’” Stiles said.

“What? No, no way,” Scott said. 

Stiles turned to you and Malia. “Uh, ladies, if you were going away and the person you’re dating said ‘Don’t worry, go have fun,’ what would you think they were talking about?” 

“You mean fun like sex with other people?” Malia asked. 

You popped your head around her to look at Scott and Stiles. “Or fun like bowling?”

“Okay, yeah, now I’m worried,” Scott mumbled as he pulled his phone out to check something. Some paramedics rolled a patient passed you and he looked up to your mom. “Hey, Mom, where’s all this coming from?” 

“A jackknifed tractor-trailer on 115 caused a major pile up,” Mel said over her shoulder. 

“Okay, okay, there’s only one way back into Beacon Hills from the airport,” Stiles said, taking a breath. “Kira’s never gonna make it.”

“I can get her,” Scott said, already walking out the door. “You guys head to the school. Lydia’s probably already there. We’ll meet you by midnight-” 

You hated the sound of that plan. “Scott, is that really such a good idea with the-”

“By midnight,” Scott said. “Promise.”

---

Siles hadn’t wanted you to stay at the hospital with Liam, but he gave in when he realized that you’d have to wait in the Jeep in the storm and remembered how much you hated storms. It was a good thing too because Liam came running up to you in the waiting room maybe half an hour after everyone left babbling about Scott and something that attacked Parrish. 

After getting some clarification, the two of you ran to the school. The blood pumping through your body and the power in your muscles made you feel alive again. You hadn’t felt like this in such a long time that you almost didn’t want to stop.

Then you remembered that some guy with power-stealing talons was after your brother. 

It took a second to process the scene in front of you: Scott had been thrown against the wall and Kira was crumbled a few feet away from the biggest, angriest werewolf you’d ever seen. 

Your second was up and you ran at him from behind, legs wrapping around his waist and using the crook of your elbow to cut off his air supply as you applied pressure to the back of his head with your other hand. He struggled against you but your grip was too tight. He slammed you against the wall and you could have sworn your ribs started cracking the second time he did. When you started losing your grip, you panicked and gripped a fistful of his hair to pull his neck to the side. You sank your teeth into his neck. 

It was revolting. 

Metallic. 

He used your surprise to slam you into the wall again, this time coming loose from your grip completely. He picked you up off the floor by your neck, sliding you up the wall as you sputtered his blood back onto his hand. 

That’s when it happened. He dropped out of the sky and made a bee-line for where you were fighting for your life. The taloned werewolf dropped you to deal with the new threat. 

You spat out any remaining blood on the concrete and tried to breathe again as you watched them fight. The new guy clearly knew what he was doing but that didn’t stop the big guy from knocking him down and going for Scott again. 

He sank his claws into your brother’s stomach just as Liam and the others got there. You struggled to your feet but Scott had it handled; he rose up and broke the werewolf’s arm before pulling the leftover claws out of his stomach. 

“I don’t know who you are or what you thought you were going to do, but I’ll give you a choice,” Scott told him. “You can stay and I’ll break something else. Or you can run.” 

The werewolf looked between Scott and the rest of you. 

“I’d run,” Stiles said.

The taloned werewolf hobbled out into the rain and disappeared into the dark as you ran over to Scott. He pushed away your attempts to check on him, instead using his sleeve to wipe your chin. He didn’t seem happy with the result but the others were closing the distance and he didn’t have the time to fuss anymore. 

Your friends made a semi-circle around Scott and appraised the new guy. He wasn’t one of you, but he helped.

The new guy laughed as he came over, amused by everyone’s clear distrust of him. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asked. “I guess I look a little different since the fourth grade.”

“Theo?” Scott asked. 

Your eyes shot over to Stiles’. Theo Raeken? your look asked. 

No way in hell, his look answered. 

“You know him?” Malia asked. 

“They used to,” Theo said. “Trust me, I never thought I’d see you guys again. Couple of months ago, I heard of an Alpha in Beacon Hills, and when I found out his name was Scott McCall … I just couldn’t believe it. Not just an Alpha, but a True Alpha.”

“What do you want?” Scott asked.

“I came back to Beacon Hills - back home with my family - because I want to be part of your pack,” Theo said.

“Sorry,” you said. Theo’s eyes drifted to you and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed by how much you’d changed or by the bloodstains on your chin. “We’re at capacity. Try again next year.” 

Scott turned to you with a sigh. “Y/N-” 

“No, Scott, it’s okay,” Theo said. He was dangerously calm. “I’m here to stay, so you guys take your time. Think about it. You know where to find me.” 

--- 

“And?” you asked as Stiles piled back into the Jeep. He sighed as he slammed the door shut behind him. “Did your dad buy your pretty please?” 

“No, but he did buy my threat to rope Parrish in, which worked just as well,” Stiles said, pulling his seatbelt out and buckling it in. “Theo’s got a speeding ticket.” 

“That’s it?” you asked. 

“What do you mean that’s it?” Stiles asked. “One single speeding ticket from eight years ago, signed by his dad. That’s suspicious. Who speeds?” 

“Everyone speeds. You speed,” you said. You bit your lip and tapped your fingers on your leg. “But I still don’t trust him.” 

“You don’t?” Stiles asked. “Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?” 

“Ew, no!” you scoffed. “I hated that little creep.” 

“But you were always so mean to him,” Stiles said. “I thought that meant you had a crush on someone in the fourth grade.” 

“Well, I was in the third grade and back then being mean to people just meant you didn’t like them,” you said. You interlaced your fingers with Stiles’ over the gearshift. “Besides, you’re the only one I’ve ever had a crush on.” 

“Aww, you had a crush on me?” Stiles asked. “That’s kind of lame, babe.” 

“We’re literally dating.” 

“Still.”

Stiles always drove you to school on the first day, and you thought that would make you feel less nervous but your nerves sky-rocketed the second you got into the school. Everything was too loud, too bright, and too overwhelming. So when Stiles found you between fourth and fifth period saying he and Scott were going to interrogate Theo, you jumped at the chance.

Theo didn’t seem to mind your presence in the locker room so much, but Scott didn’t seem to like you skipping classes on the first day of school. It was difficult to care about Scott’s disapproval when you knew you’d have torn the throat out of the next kid who asked to borrow a pencil.

Theo’s story about skateboarding and getting injured was convincing enough. The details made it seem real and the parts he skipped kept it concise; either you and Stiles were paranoid or he was a really good liar.

“Right. So why aren’t you part of his pack then?” Stiles asked. You and him were leaning against the lockers a few feet away from where Scott and Theo were talking, but you were pretty sure they could feel his distrust from all the way over there. “Why didn’t he come back for you?”

“Because, by the time of my first full moon, he was dead,” Theo answered. 

“And you know this how?” you asked.

“I met another one of his pack a couple weeks later,” Theo said, nodding his head at you. “He told me the Alpha that bit me was killed by two of his own Betas. They were twins.” 

Scott looked over at you and Stiles. The twins had to be Ethan and Aiden, but they had to kill their whole pack to get in with Deucalion. Did they let someone live like Kali did?

“Scott, listen to my pulse,” Theo said. “I’m telling the truth.” 

“Right, or you just know how to steady your heart rate while lying your ass off,” Stiles said as he pushed himself off the lockers.

“Why would I lie?” Theo asked. 

“Because maybe you’re not who you say you are,” Stiles said. 

“Okay, uh-” Theo took a breath and looked over at Scott. “In the fourth grade, you had an inhaler. I had one too. I remember this day where I ended up in the nurse’s office with an asthma attack. A bad one. I was waiting to be taken to the ER, you were waiting for the principal. You told me what would happen when you go to the ER for asthma. How they give you oxygen, an IV of prednisone. You made it sound easy. Like everything would be okay.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes next to you but you put a hand on his shoulder. You were trying to focus on Theo’s heartbeat and that was difficult with all the sarcasm next to you. 

“I’ve been by myself this whole time. Everybody knows that lone wolves- they don’t make it on their own,” Theo continued. “I swear I’m that same kid from fourth grade. I was hoping you are too.” 

The bell rang out before Scott got the chance to answer. Theo mumbled something about making a good impression as he left and you and Stiles drifted closer to Scott. He seemed convinced but you knew Scott wouldn’t do anything without Stiles’ blessing. 

“No,” Stiles said. “Don’t give me that look.”

“We have to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes,” Scott said.

“Not this time!” Stiles argued. “I’m right. There’s something off about him. I can feel it.” 

“You can’t seriously trust him after all this time, can you?” you asked. 

“You trusted Isaac after not seeing him for years,” Scott said. “You trusted him more than me, remember?” 

“That was different. That was Isaac,” you said. The second bell rang out and you sighed. “We’ll talk later, okay?” You squeezed Scott’s arm and kissed Stiles’ cheek. “I’ll meet you guys in the library after school.”

As you left, you could still hear the two of them bickering over the benefit of the doubt. Scott had a point, but you didn’t like Theo when he was ten years old and you sure as hell didn’t like him now. 

You put your bad feelings on hold as you got through the rest of your day, and you couldn’t mention them during your study session at the library. Malia got seriously annoyed when people interrupted her train of thought, and you weren’t going to be the unlucky victim of one of her glares. Thankfully, Stiles took your place. 

He burst through the library and slapped two pieces of paper down on the table in front of you. He leaned on the back of your chair as he waited for one of you to say something. 

“So you found something?” Scott asked. 

“Another signature,” Stiles answered. “This is Theo’s dad’s signature on a speeding ticket from eight years ago.” He tapped the speeding ticket to prove his point before moving onto the next piece of paper. “And this is his dad’s signature on a transfer form to Beacon Hills High School from just a few days ago.”

“How did you get his transfer form?” Kira asked.

“You didn’t break into the Administration Office, did you?” Scott asked. 

“No, I did not break into the Administration Office,” Stiles scoffed. You tilted your head up to look at him. “What? Okay, I might have broken into the Administration Office. Can we just focus on the signatures, please?” He tapped the papers again. “They’re different.”

“They’re sort of different,” Malia said.

“They’re completely different!” Stiles said. “Come on. Look: the garlands don’t match, the undulations of the sinuous stroke are totally off. And look- look at this. Perfect example of the Criminal Tremor.” 

“So now, Theo is Theo, but his parents aren’t his parents?” Kira asked. 

“Someone’s not someone,” Stiles said. 

You slid the papers around and looked at them. Malia was right about them being ‘sort of different,’ but how many receipts had you signed that your signatures looked nothing alike? The key to a good forgery was getting it as similar as possible, and these signatures were pretty damn similar. 

“And when I figure out who that someone really is,” Stiles continued, “Someone’s in big trouble.”

“But no one’s actually done anything wrong,” Scott said hesitantly. 

“Yet!” Stiles said. “If Theo’s parents are both psychotic killers, then obviously we shouldn’t trust him, right?” 

“My parents are Peter and The Desert Wolf,” Malia said. 

“Okay-” Stiles rubbed his forehead. “It’s fine. You know what? I’ll figure it out myself. Alright? I don’t need you or you or you.” He paused when he saw the look on your face and relented slightly, “Okay, I kind of need you, but not right now. Right now, I don’t need anyone!” 

Stiles blew out of the library just as quickly and dramatically as he came in. 

You sighed and started closing your books. Shoving your books into your bag, you said, “I’m gonna follow him. You coming?” 

“Duh,” Scott said. He was already standing with his bag on his back.

---

You and Scott stood next to the Jeep for what felt like hours waiting for Stiles and Liam to get back. While you did, you argued about why you couldn’t follow them through the woods (because you’re not there to spy on them!), Scott asked you why you were skipping classes on the first day (because you just needed a break!), and the both of you wished they’d just come out of the damn woods already. 

It wasn’t that you and Scott didn’t get along, it was just that things were more intense since you’d died. Everything was heightened and the only person that really understood that was Scott, so he got the worst of your outbursts. To be fair, it never lasted long. The two of you had made up long before Stiles and Liam showed up.

“Find anything?” Scott asked. 

“Nope,” Stiles lied, heading for the driver’s side of the Jeep.

“I fell in a hole,” Liam said with an unusual smile.

“Right on, buddy,” you said, putting an arm around him and walking him a few feet back to give them some space. 

The Jeep started stammering again when Stiles tried to turn it on. He called your name and asked you to get in the front seat and turn the ignition when he asked. You did as he said as he popped up the Jeep’s hood. You tried the Jeep and it sputtered again. Scott tried to talk to Stiles and he argued. You tried the Jeep again and it faltered. Scott tried to talk to Stiles again and he exploded. 

“Why can’t you trust anyone?” Scott asked. 

“Because you trust everyone!” Stiles yelled. He slammed his fist into the engine and you felt the vibrations in your seat and the impact in your bones. 

You started opening the door but Liam reached out for your arm across the gearshift. “Stiles-” 

“Are you okay?” Scott asked.

“I’m fine,” Stiles lied. His heart was racing, but that didn’t shake out the sound of his fist hitting the metal out of your head.

“It could be broken,” you said quietly, mostly to yourself than to Liam or anyone else. “He could’ve broken his hand.” 

You couldn’t focus on anything else until the Jeep kicked back to life underneath you. Looking up, you met Stiles’ eyes through the windshield - you didn’t know who looked like more ready to cry. 

“Get in,” you said. “I’ll take you home. Scott can take Liam.” 

“But I-” 

“I can take you home,” Scott said. He nodded at you as Liam got out of the car. The two of them drove away before Stiles even got in the car. 

The door came to a deafeningly quiet close and you didn’t know what to say to him so you didn’t. You didn’t realize this was bothering him so much. Maybe it wasn’t this specifically, but this in general. The ever-changing this.

“Look, I know you think I’m crazy but I just don’t trust him, okay?” Stiles said. He was trying so hard to keep his voice level. “There’s something about him. Something off. I can feel it and I- I just need to prove it.” 

“I didn’t think you were crazy,” you said. “I’ve never thought you were crazy, Stiles. Not now. Not when you were in Eichen. Not even when you were thirteen and convinced me that stealing a police cruiser was a good idea.” You shook your head and started the car. “I just wish you’d talked to me.” 

“I know,” Stiles said with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead again, and then he winced at the pain in his hand. “I’m sorry.” 

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive home, but after five minutes, Stiles moved his hand over to yours on the gearshift. It was cold, still a bit shaky, and it made your heart race just like it always did. 

The first things you did when you got to the Stilinski’s was shower and get changed. Melissa said she’d take you home after her hospital shift, but you weren’t sure you could wait that long to get something to eat. It had been a long day. Rubbing your face, you stumbled back to Stiles’ room. 

He was sitting on his bed, staring at his conspiracy boards, but he leaned over and grabbed a very familiar metal bottle from the nightstand. “Come on, it’s been at least 12 hours since you had anything.” 

“Stiles, I can’t eat in front of you.” You looked down and knocked on the door frame. “It’s pretty morbid.” 

“Babe, I’ve seen morbid and this isn’t it,” Stiles said. You weren’t convinced so he held out the bottle again. “Please? Then we can get some sleep.” 

“Okay,” you said softly. 

You sat on the floor in front of his bed and unscrewed the top. The sticky sweet smell hit you like a ton of bricks and you downed it in a matter of minutes. It felt like a disgusting breath of fresh air. 

Stiles put a hand on your shoulder and you rested your head on his knee. He ran a hand through your hair and the two of you stayed like that for a few moments before you got up and sat on the bed with him. 

“Why does it feel-” you started with a sigh as you pushed some hair out of Stiles’ face “-like everything’s already overwhelming and depressing?” 

“Because school started and everyone always tries to kill us when school starts,” Stiles sighed. He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled you into his chest. Listening to his heart like this was always better than using super-hearing to listen from afar. 

“I won’t let anyone kill you,” you said, fingers tracing patterns on his chest. 

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said. His arms tightened around your waist. “No matter what, right?” 

“I think we might have to find a new thing,” you said. “The nogitsune … why don’t you just tell me you love me?” 

“I love you,” Stiles said without missing a beat. 

You leaned up and kissed his jaw. “I love you too.”

Part 33

Tagged: @ietss​

[laylacooke]

New Moon Rising || Ariana, Alcher, & Layla

timing: Friday, 9/20 parties: @letsbenditlikebennett, @zahneundklauen, & @laylacooke summary: Ariana, Alcher, and Layla bond over dinner. warnings: death mention tw by all three characters

Nothing felt right. It’d been nearly a week since she read that news article about Winn and Ariana still felt numb. At least she had since seen Ace, but how weary she was didn’t seem to fade. No amount of woodworking projects, new recipes, or distractions seemed to do the trick. Diving into solving who killed him with Blanche helped to an extent, but they’d yet to find Winn’s ghost. Since she’d stopped by Kaden’s, she had seen Celeste a few more times. She seemed like herself and somehow, it had her reeling even more so. It couldn’t really be Celeste, but this figure sounded like her, acted like her and even smelled like her. Right now, it was the only thing pushing her forward. She idly fidgeted with the little wooden bat she’d been carving. Both vegan and regular chili were already on the stove. She’d made two macaroni and cheeses as well. The potatoes and veggies would work for both of them. The table and chairs she’d made looked nice in her dining area and she wanted to be excited she was having guests over. She had been so before, especially since Alcher and Layla would get to meet, but she couldn’t muster it anymore. Her energy seemed to be getting lower and lower though she tried to perk up and turn it on when she heard a knock at the door. 

Layla had been free from cat life for a little while, but the news she had come back to had sent her mood plummeting. The news of Winn’s death had been unexpected, and so badly she had contemplated going back to Cordy and seeing if the witch would turn her back into an animal. She hadn’t even had a chance to go apartment hunting with Winn, and now, she was lost on what to do. Thankfully, Ariana had given her an escape and offered up dinner. The trailer had been lonely without her, and while Ulf had given her the option to move into the house, it hadn’t felt right with Ari not being there. At least she had still had Indy with her. The one thing in her life that hadn’t moved on or away. With the small dog in tow, Layla found herself standing outside Ariana’s new place trying to decide if she had wanted to go in or not. Everything had felt off, since she had returned to werewolf life and laying low had just seemed to come naturally to her, “Should we go in, Indy? Or just grab some food from the grocery store and head back to the trailer?” She looked to the small dog in her arms hoping for an answer.

The first time Alcher had woken up in a place she didn’t recognize hadn’t been too much cause for alarm. The second and third times, however, were. She had always been extremely careful to make sure she did not lose track of time or herself, that she did not lose herself completely to the beast. Was this the work of the beast? Or was it coincidence that the full moon had just passed? She could not be sure, but she did know that she was going to try and get to the bottom of what was happening-- after this dinner with Ariana. It was important to gain her full trust, and the fact that she was bringing another wolf for her to meet. Layla was her name, and by the sounds of it, she, too, was a young wolf. This meeting tonight would be important. It would make or break Alcher’s ability to take these two into her fold. If she wanted to help them, she needed them to trust her and accept her first, and Alcher was nothing if not patient. 

When she arrived at the address Ariana gave her, she smelled the other wolf before she even saw her. She stood up ahead, on the sidewalk, looking up to the apartment. There was a dog beside her. Her father had always warned her of the danger of keeping a dog as a wolf-- they would end up dead, eventually, and the bond between the two would be broken. Still, these poor children were so lonely, weren’t they? Without a true pack, they sought companionship in domesticized cousins. She came up beside the red head. “I think,” she spoke softly, “we shouldn’t leave our friend waiting.” 

With the full moon having just passed, Ariana could hear the other wolves before they knocked on her door though it took them longer than she would have expected. She knew Layla walked up first when she smelled her and Indy arriving. Part of her reached for the door, but she’d give Layla a minute. It was hard to determine just what was holding her back though she did frown and gave both pots of chili another stir. A quick peek out her window told her the area was still foggy and the sky still darker than normal. Everything just seemed wrong which mirrored how she’d been feeling lately. People kept dying or getting hurt and it was hard to focus on what good could come of that when she felt like she was clawing away with nothing to hold on to. She shook the darker thoughts away, afraid of what they might bring. She hadn’t seen Celeste again since she’d left Kaden’s, but that was not a scene she could stomach happening in front of her again. When the knock finally did come, she threw on her most convincing smile and opened the door. “Come in,” she greeted warmly and gestured toward the living area, “I’ve got classic chili and mac and cheese going for me and Alcher. Got some vegan versions for you, Layla. Then some cast iron roasted vegetables for everyone because vitamins or something.” She gave them a quick little tour of the apartment and directed them to the barstools. “Did anyone want a drink? I’ve got water, White Claws, orange juice, milk, La Croix, and Sprite.” 

Layla could smell the other wolf before she had even gotten close, so the words hadn’t come as a surprise. Looking over, the redhead nodded softly. It wasn’t long before she was being escorted inside with Indy in tow. Ariana’s new place was nice. And it was something she had hoped to find with Winn’s help, but all the cat bullshit had gotten in the way, and before she could go apartment hunting, or even just see her friend one last time, he was gone. Thankfully it was an evening being spent with her best friend and apparently a new friend. One whose name had sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place at the moment, “I know it’s a pain in the ass cooking two meals, but thanks, Ari. I’m more so just grateful for the company and not constantly hearing myself meow.” She laughed softly, “I’ll go with water.” Turning her attention back to the other person, she stuck out her hand, “I’m Layla, and this is Indy.” She showed Alcher the small dog, before sitting him down on the floor to go play with Luna. 

Alcher’s smile was warm and soft when Ariana opened the door to greet them. Despite the ache in her shoulder from the silver knife, and the strangeness of waking in places she did not remember going to, the smile was genuine. She was happy to see Ariana, smiling and sweet, after everything she had told her over the past few weeks. Someone hunting wolves, full moons being taken from them, and now the passing of a wolf whom Ariana had known-- Alcher wished she could take Ariana’s pain and carry it with her, but in all her years, that was the one thing she’d never figured out how to do. So, instead, she would be here to support her. And now she was finally meeting the other young wolf, Layla. They’d talked once on the internet, and now Alcher’s suspicions were confirmed. Though her brow did furrow at the mention of vegan food. They would have to deal with that discrepancy later. She first needed to bond with the girl. “We’ve met, actually,” she said to Layla, taking the offered hand, “online. I may have told you a different name, however. I go by Ada in public.” A grin. “But for my friends and for those I can trust, it is Alcher.” She turned back to Ariana, enjoying the smell of the food wafting around them. “It all looks wonderful, Ariana,” she said, heading towards the kitchen. “Water will do for now,” she answered. “So, tell me-- how did you two meet? Have you both lived her long?”

Ariana was quick to grab water for both of her friends. Somehow, playing the perfect hostess was enough to keep her mind idly occupied. At least until she remembered everything that had happened. It was hard to swallow back the lump in her throat, but she did as she handed them both glasses of ice water. “Here you go,” she said as she slid over coasters for them to use, “And I’m definitely gonna be that person with the coasters. Countertop isn’t wood, but most of the other surfaces are and I made them myself so…” As she realized the pair had chatted online, she noted, “Funny, a conversation was what inspired Alcher and I meeting. I’ve dubbed myself White Crest’s official trail guide… although that sounds like a good way to get axe murdered so maybe not though I guess I do have a one up on most.” Unless they were a hunter which apparently, she was shit at realizing ahead of time. At least the hunters she knew in town seemed to care for her. At the question of how her and Layla met, she briefly paused her stirring, “Oh uh, that’s a funny story. I’ve lived here about six months, Layla a little less? I may or may not have sniffed her out.” She’d let Layla tell the rest. It wasn’t entirely necessary to advertise the other wolf had been dumpster diving. 

That’s why this woman had seemed so familiar. Layla had talked to her already. Social media had a funny way of connecting people, “I don’t think I ever got your name actually, but it’s nice to meet you, Alcher. I’m Layla.” She turned her attention to Ariana, taking the glass of ice water, “Thanks, Ari, and coasters I can do. Everything looks amazing, by the way. I think Ulf would be proud.” She smiled before taking a sip of water and sitting her glass down on one of the recommended coasters. What the conversation had shifted to was something that Layla hadn’t let enter her mind in quite a while. She had gotten comfortable living in White Crest, and it had come to feel like home despite all the heartache it had brought, “Uh, yeah. Sniffed me out alright.” She laughed softly. Though her situation wasn’t funny, it was amusing to think how afraid of Ariana she had been, “I didn’t really have a home at the time, and Ariana found me rummaging for food behind one of the small restaurants in town. And the rest is history!” Layla wasn’t quite sure about Alcher yet, especially after the way she had been questioned by the other wolf when they had first started talking online. There were still lingering threats on her life from people in her past, and she was slowly learning that trust wasn’t just something to give out so easily anymore.

Alcher watched the two girls interact for a moment. They were familiar with each other, and they were obviously friendly, but there was just the slightest hesitation on Layla’s side, which meant Ariana was the wolf with more experience here. It made sense; Ariana had told Alcher she was born a wolf. From what she’d gathered, Layla was bitten. Which meant she could never be as much of a wolf as Ariana or Alcher. That wasn’t her fault, though, and as long as she wanted to try and be a better wolf, then she would have Alcher’s support. Smiling, she nodded between the two. “I’m glad you two met, then, and that you have each other,” she said. “I assume you’ve since found a place to live, like Ariana?” turned her gaze towards the young wolf she’d met earlier. 

Ariana was glad Layla felt comfortable enough to share exactly how they found each other. She knew it could potentially be embarrassing but it was good her friend was embracing her previous struggle and hopefully learning, too. There was no reason for any wolf to be alone in the world and she held Layla very near and dear to her heart. She put the finishing touches on the meals before she started to serve them. “Thanks,” she replied with a soft smile, “I’m sure he will be when he gets a chance to stop by. It still feels a bit weird not having you guys right there, but it’s nice being close to school. Blanche lives right across the hall, too, and I made friends with one of my neighbors, Grace… which is actually a funny story.” The part about Layla being a cat wasn’t all that funny, but as she set the plates down on the table by the kitchen, she said, “When you were still a cat, I happened to win a cat whistle in the craft fair prize. Tried to use it to lure you, but well, turns out it was a whistle for fae cat. It’s since been destroyed, but Grace happened to run into me with well… entirely too many cats around. Putai--” She cut herself off realizing it was probably best to not mention Kaden to Alcher until she knew she wouldn’t seek him out to hurt him. “They eventually left seeing as this place isn’t currently cat central.”

Ariana gestured toward the table and joined them. “I’m glad we found each other, too,” she commented with a wider smile now. “Who else would ride shotgun in my Barbie car with me?” She did miss being able to just hang out with Layla, but she supposed they were due for a sleepover one of these days. She knew Layla wanted her own place and was in the works of finding one. She’d let her explain all that to Alcher though.

“I’m glad we met, too. Ari pretty much saved my life. What about you two? How did you meet?” She looked from Ariana to Alcher back to Ariana. Noticing it was dinner time, the young wolf found her seat and sat down. Everything had smelled good, including the non-vegan food. It had been hard to contend with cat and werewolf cravings as a cat, often snacking on mice or canned fish when she could. The Pièce de résistance was the cooked salmon Deirdre had served up, even though Anya had nearly made her cat life a living hell, “It smells amazing, by the way. Like I could seriously eat it all. I mean…Sorry, cat life still has its lingering effects…” She bit at her bottom lip embarrassed, but perked up at the mention of Ariana’s neighbors and a fae cat whistle, “A cat whistle? That’s a new thing. I swear the people who judge the town contests must be spying on us, because they always seem to put the most ridiculous, but relevant things in our lives.” Layla looked to Alcher. “Did you enter the craft fair?” 

Alcher was enjoying watching the two interact. It was more than good that they were friends and seemed at ease with each other. It made her job easier. If one trusted her, the other would soon follow. Layla would be work, but Ariana was already warming up quickly. Either way, they were both worth it, and they were certainly in need of some guidance. Not eating meat, trying to turn people out of fear, turning into cats...yes, they certainly needed a guiding hand. That was what she was here for. She settled into her seat and smiled across at the two. “It’s wonderful to hear about how close you two are,” she commented, “though turning into a cat sounds...perilous. I’m glad you’re back to normal, now, and that we get to meet.” Gave a gentle smile at Layla before helping herself to the food Ariana had provided them. “I did not, and from what I’m hearing, I should thank the stars for that. Do all contests here give out strange prizes? I’ve heard other people complaining of them, as well,” she commented, glancing between the two.

There was a soft smile on her face as she took her seat and answered Layla’s question. “We actually started talking about hiking online,” Ariana explained, “And I offered to show her the trails since well, you know I know my way around the woods here. Obviously, we were pretty quick to sniff each other out.” From that point, Alcher had seemed to want to look out for her even if they didn’t necessarily see eye to eye on the Ace situation. She had almost regretted bringing it up, but she wouldn’t be swayed from protecting someone she cared for. Too much had been lost recently, she wasn’t about to lose someone else. She shook away that thought and took a few bites of her food. She laughed a bit about the cat whistle, “Yeah, apparently not a thing for real cats, but yeah, I’m glad you’re not a cat and have decided the prizes in this town are just sketchy. Plus, I’m pretty sure they ate the chair I made. Like I could have put that on my Etsy shop, so rude.” She shook her head and added, “Alcher, everything in this town is strange. Prizes included.” 

“I’m glad I’m back to normal, too. I don’t recommend cat life at all, and if it’s something that happens, I suggest staying away from Deirdre’s house. Her cat, Anya, is a nightmare and like oddly, super smart.” She shrugged off the cat and the bad memories as she reached for some of the food Ari had made for them, “You know, as long as I’ve been here, I still don’t know my way around. Maybe we could all go for a hike one day?” She looked between the two wolves. If Ariana had trusted Alcher, then getting to know the other wolf was something she wanted to invest time into. “Maybe you could show me a thing or two, Alcher?” Layla looked to the woman with a smile as she scooped veggies onto her plate. The one thing the teenager was starting to long for was a pack out of the loneliness she was beginning to feel. It seemed like just a few months back, the wolves of White Crest were onto a great thing, but a thing that never came to fruition. However, with Alcher around there was a chance that maybe the three of them could make magic happen.

“Hmm,” Alcher sighed, “you’re right, Ariana. This place is strange.” She took a moment of silence to contemplate more words before adding on, “But that’s part of the charm, isn’t it?” Smiled toothily at the two of them before continuing her meal. As she expected from the smell, the food was wonderful, though the idea of the non-meat meal still made her insides burn. A problem for another day. “I would love nothing more than to go on a hike with the two of you,” she finally said, sitting back. “I’d like to think I know my way around the woods a little better now.” She looked over to Layla, giving a short nod. A thing or two was putting it lightly-- this wolf needed work. But that’s what she was here for, right? To get them back on track. And these two had lost so much and so much of their packs already, they would perhaps need Alcher for longer than she usually stayed. “I believe I can do that,” she answered simply, putting a gentle hand on Layla’s shoulder. “In fact, I’d love to.”

The thought of all of them hiking together brought Ariana a sense of content that she hadn’t felt in entirely too long. All her life, she’d longed to be part of a pack and while she’d found other wolves in White Crest, it had always felt like a struggle to bring them all together and now so many had left. Or worse. Winn’s death was still entirely too fresh. She shook it off and took a moment before she smiled. “A hike together sounds perfect,” she responded, “There are some really amazing trails here though I tend to avoid any that go near the lake after the whole Squidward thing.” After taking another bite of her food, she added, “I’m sure you do. I was pretty quick to learn them, too. I’ve always enjoyed hiking.” No matter where she and Celeste had gone while on the run, they always found some trails to enjoy. As much was a matter of necessity come a certain time of the month, but all the memories she had with Celeste and how delighted wildflowers made her was something she’d always cherish. The wistful feeling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar though she’d rather try to keep creating new memories to cherish. “I’m sure there’s a lot we could both learn from you,” she turned to Layla and explained, “Alcher travels a lot to help other wolves, so I’m sure she has lots of tricks up her sleeve.” She smiled brightly for what felt like the first time in too long. This was nice. They were building their own little wolf family though she couldn’t help but wish Ulfric and Winn were here, too.

Scooping some of the vegan dinner options onto her plate as well, Layla was set. All the food had smelled and looked amazing. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it, and as she listened to Ariana and Alcher speak of hiking and learning how to wolf, she dug in. Eating with a fork and at a table, rather than just shoving her face in a bowl of food was something she had definitely missed, “A hike it is then. You guys just let me know when and where.” Speaking of the woods, maybe before she met up with them, she could slip off to visit Celeste. It had been far too long since she had gone to pay her respects, and she had a lot to talk about with the woman. Though there had been so much on the forefront of her mind, not a day went by that she didn’t think of her in some way. Whether it be big or small, the hunter with a soft spot for werewolves, had been one of the biggest reasons Layla had survived, but out of fear of upsetting Ariana, she rarely brought her up. Instead, she focused back on the conversation going on in front of her, “Really? Where all have you been, Alcher? I mean if you don’t mind me asking.” She took another bite of food.  

Normalcy was relative, but as Alcher glanced around, she found that the only word she had for this moment was normal. How long had it been since she’d sat at a real table and shared a meal with other wolves? Even back in Canada, moments like these were rare. She’d taught that rather feral pack how to behave properly, but they were more wolf than human-- much like herself-- and they did not sit down at tables to eat meals. She looked fondly at the two wolves now sitting beside her. “Oh, many places,” she said, “though Maine was my first stop in the U.S. I lived in Poland most my life, it’s where I--” she paused, distinctly, allowing herself to remember these two were wolves. They were owed the truth, but trust was something Alcher held close to her heart. “It’s where I was raised after my family died.” She let the words come stiffly before moving on. “I was born in Germany. I’ve been to, let’s see now-- France, Austria, Denmark, Italy, Greece...Spain, Portugal, England and Ireland. And Scotland, in all technicalities.” She looked at the two. “Have either of you ever been out of the country?”

It was funny how realistically; this whole setup was all Ariana had longed for as she was growing up. As much as she loved Celeste, she longed for that sense of belonging with wolves, too, and it was her sister who had paid for that desire with her life. It felt wrong to enjoy this knowing what she sacrificed by refusing to leave this town. The deeper she found herself in the supernatural world, the more Ariana realized she had no clue what the hell she was doing, but she wanted this. Maybe it had been the question of the places she’d been that brought up the feeling of nostalgia. All those places she had gone had been with Celeste and she missed so many of those memories. “I’ve never been overseas, but I lived in Mexico and Canada both for a while,” she answered with a bit of wistfulness in her tone. She’d loved Canada and running through snow under the bright light of the full moon. “I did always want to go to Romania with my sister. Maybe I’ll still do that one of these days.” She realized she didn’t know if Layla had ever been out of the country and now, she was curious for the answer, so she watched her friend intently as she moved some food around on her plate with her fork.

Layla listened to the older of the two wolves explain her past. At the news of Alcher’s family, the redhead’s eyes fell, “I’m so sorry to hear about your family.” While she still had both of her parents, she had experienced death before of someone she was extremely close with; her grandmother. The one person that seemed to always be there for her growing up. Sitting silently, she took another bite of food, as she listened to Ariana talk about her travels to Canada and Mexico learning information she didn’t know, “Sounds like you both have been to some pretty cool places.” Traveling out of the country was something Layla had experienced, but it had been when she was small and could barely remember it. In her mind, it didn’t really count, “When I was like super little, I vaguely remember traveling out of the country, but I don’t really remember where we went or how long we were there.” Her parents, as hunters, had done a lot of suspicious stuff, and much of it, she struggled to remember, which had probably been for the best; especially since she didn’t quite trust Alcher to know about her hunter background yet. Instead, she would cherish this get together for what it was; new and old friends having a nice meal together.

As Alcher looked across the table at the two young wolves, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of hopefulness. They were young, malleable-- but they were also smart, and loyal. And they had already found each other. She could make this a good home for them, of that she was confident, and perhaps, along the way, she could make them good for this home. Teach them what she knew, how she lived. How to protect others, how to destroy those who might threaten them or their pack. So, it was with a small smile that Alcher lifted her glass to the two, a very human sentiment, and said a small cheers. “Here’s to hoping things only get better from here on out,” she said, “and at the very least, we can have each other.”

[banjodanger]

The New Mutants(2020): Going Out Not With a Bang, But With a Whimper(and Racism)

I’m of the opinion there are two types of bad movies. On the one hand you have movies that are enjoyably bad. Movies that catch on something of a second life based on the dialogue or the plot or the inclusion of Nicholas Cage. Movies that are such a grotesque misfire that you can’t help but enjoy them. I’m thinking of movies like The Room, Cats, or roughly two-thirds of the Fast and Furious series. “Serious” film buffs will scoff, but if your life revolves around reexamining Godfather for the umpteenth time maybe you don’t understand fun.

The second kind of bad movies are just...bad. There’s no joy in their badness. They’re neither enjoyable as cinema nor as entertainment. Though they run the gamut from joyless slog to actively offensive, they’re always noxious turds. It’s like the difference between a hot dog cart and an Applebee’s. Both are cheap shit, but the hot dog cart isn’t going to lie to you. In case it’s not obvious, New Mutants is an Applebee’s.

Honestly, that should be the box quote. “New Mutants is the Applebees of movies.”-Some tumblr Rando

It’s the most accurate description of this movie. It clearly wants to imagine itself as an intelligent, genre-hopping film, something strange and unique when in reality this couldn’t be more cookie cutter if it came out of a bakery. This movie was supposed to be something new for Fox, a teen-horror film. That isn’t a bad idea, and judging by how Marvel has since marketed Wandavision and Multiverse of Madness, it’s an idea someone thinks is worth exploring. This movie doesn’t explore that idea. It glances at it on the shelf before grabbing a giant fistful of hair clippings and gobbling wildly.

The best horror movies offer a sense of creeping dread that slowly becomes overwhelming, lurking in the periphery of the movie. I’m thinking of movies like Hereditary or John Carpenter’s The Thing. Those movies offer an atmosphere that begins at unsettling and gradually overwhelms its characters and the audience. New Mutants never even attempts. The hospital has five patients and a massive force field surrounding the property, and everyone seems...weirdly cool about it. I assume the movie wanted to show these kids as beaten down but they come off as apathetic.

The part of this movie that really defies logic is what I imagine was supposed to be a memorable part of the film, the big party. A lot is invested into this sequence, it’s clearly supposed to be a big emotional linchpin of the whole thing. It’s also asinine. It illustrates the general way this film treats its characters, in that it doesn’t have characters so much as pawns. It moves them into the necessary positions as the movies sees fit, and the party scene is that in a nutshell. They knock out Dr. Reyes to...party? Previously in the movie there’s a brief discussion of the X-Men and they determine that they’re undergoing training for that. Why not have them discover that information, and then party? You show them as the driven, scrappy young mutants that would make this a franchise. Instead there’s a party because we really needed an extended Breakfast Club homage.

Dani and Rahne sharew their feelings during said party too. I said before I watched this that I was concerned they’d make too big a deal out of this, and I’ll give credit where it’s due, it didn’t feel forced. However, it did feel like I was just watching the trailer of Fault In Our Stars again. Also, I’m taking that credit away because hitting the bare minimum isn’t a reason to celebrate. The movie handled a queer relationship well? Good, ALL movies should be because we’re way past the point of that being a big deal. As if it should have ever been a big deal. I also have some issues with the movie brushing off Rahne’s second brand. I appreciate Rahne showing sympathy to Dani because tragic queer stories are a trope that needs to die in a fire, slowly, in front of other, better queer depictions. But it also doesn’t feel right. It’s never revisited. The movie introduces this horrific event and it can either bring them closer or tear them apart and it does...neither. Bold choice, I guess but also frustrating in that you’ve just chosen zero character development.

Is it possible for a movie to be passive-aggresive?

I mentioned the racism in the last blog post and I’m mentioning it again, because goddamnit, it serves zero purpose. If you needed a mean girl, consult the movie Mean Girls. Ton of ideas there. Roberto and Cecilia are whitewashed in a decision that Josh Boone seemed to be bizarrely proud of because perhaps he’s never listened to the sound of his own voice before. Blu Hunt is queer and indigenous though so...one step forward? Blu Hunt has mentioned being personally happy with how the movie handled it and frankly that’s enough for me. I never found her thoughts on the “two wolves” voiceover and it’s probably just as well.

The actors themselves don’t deserve a lot of hate. For actors like Anna Taylor-Joy and Maisie Williams, they’re good in roles that they likely assumed would go on for the better part of a decade at least. For actors like Blu Hunt and Henry Zaga that aren’t as popular, getting cast in a major franchise like this was probably an easy decision at the time. Charlie Heaton is great, but I’ve got to mention him separately because while his acting is good, no one from Kentucky talks like that before three jugs of moonshine that are for some reason filled with marbles. He’s good in the role but his accent changes and it never sounds convincing. It would have been better to just forgo an accent like they did with Storm way back in the first movie. Alice Braga, as the villain, is present and awake for her scenes. It’s all that’s really asked of her and I can’t fault her. Mr. Sinister was supposed to show up in this movie as a villain, and they clearly didn’t spend a lot of time rewriting her character to make up for his absence. The result is she’s not sympathetic in the group therapy scenes and she’s not threatening as the villain. None of that is to say she’s bad in the role. She does as well as she can in a role that was clearly underwritten from the start.

Quick question, will Adam Beach ever make it to act two of a superhero film? The world waits to know.

Also, someone who does deserve a lot of hate is Marilyn Manson. He’s the voice of the Smiling Men that attack Illyana in the third act. It’s kind of disappointing, because I love the detail of tracksuits and tattoos that recall Russian gangsters. However, Marilyn Manson was already pretty well known as a sleazebag before Evan Rachel Wood called him out by name, and Josh Boone choosing to work with him is just one more gross decision he should be called out for.

The CGI looks the same as it does in almost every X-Men movie. It runs the gamut from passable to trash. It has been a constant source of curiosity how a movie with a budget the size of a country’s GDP can still produce CGI that consistently looks out of date. Something like the Demon Bear can look fine, but Dr. Reyes’ force fields near the ending could have been drawn in and looked better. Some of the shots of Limbo and Lockheed look bad as well. I mean, if you’re going to have six characters you could at least try harder to animate their powers.

Having gotten this far you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking I was going to tell you this is the worst X-Men movie. It’s not. It’s just a perfect encapsulation of how Fox treated these characters at their worst. This movie isn’t bad, it’s mediocre, and that’s even worse. Fox aimed low and settled for less, and if that isn’t a summation of their approach to this franchise I don’t know what is.

New Mutants (pandemic) Box Office:

Budget: $67 Million

Opening Weekend Gross: $7 Million (During a Pandemic!)

Total U.S. Gross: $23 Million

Next: We (finally) talk about Deadpool and Fox’s attempt to get a sense of humor.

[jj-lynn21]

Santa’s favorite Elf ch 2: Bill Skarsgard & X Reader

Warnings: innuendo, smut

Santa’s fav elf ch 1

Santa’s fav elf ch 2

Santa’s fav elf ch 3

Santa’s fav elf ch 4

The director yelled, “Cut, that’s lunch.”

Richard came over to lead you back to holding, but Bill pulled him off to the side. Bill came back over to where you were standing patiently still on your mark. “Its all cool. Just hangout with me for a while. We can grab some burritos at the food truck and go chill in my trailer.”

You walk beside him as he walks. Several bodyguards walk shielding mainly you from prying eyes. Anyone could see Bill over these bulky men. Three of your steps equals one of his. You find it funny that he doesn’t even notice. He got you both burritos and continue walking until you see basically a house on wheels.

Bill opens the door for you. As you step inside there is a kitchen with everything he could need to make his own meals if he wanted. To your right you see where a driver and three passengers could sit to ride comfortably to the next destination. To the left is a living room with a table that has a chair on each side. Then there is a couch. Across from the couch is a thirty-two inch television with some video game system connected to it. On the other side of that is a curtain. You figure there could be a bathroom and bedroom back there. You sit at the table and open your burrito. Bill sits across from you.

You attempt to take a bite. “I think it’s too big. I’m never getting it in my mouth.”

Straight dead pan he matches your comment. “You just have to relax. Its fine to take it little by little instead of all at once. You don’t want to choke.”

You stare at each other for a moment.

 Bill walks to the refrigerator. “You want something to drink?”

“Just a water to wash it down, please.” You smile kindly. “Thank you, Bill.”

Bill shook his head like he was shaking a thought away. “I got it Candy girl.”  

You took a large bite of the burrito when he is by the refrigerator. You are starving, but you don’t want him seeing you be a glutton. He hands you the water as he sits down.

His eyes are wide. “So, I guess you could down that big thing.”

You laughed. “Your advice helped.”

He licks his lips. You drink some water. Then you smile as innocently as you can.

Bill grinned, “Don’t give me that innocent look Candy girl. You know what we have been talking about how much you want to sug min kuk as they say in Sweden.”

You blushed. “I think that was the thought in my mind if gå ner på mig?”

His mouth dropped open.

You were nervous you said something wrong, “I hope I said that right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be happy to Candy girl.” Bill tilted his head. “How do you know Swedish?

“I wouldn’t say I know Swedish.” You answered. “I just know a few phases.”

You lick your lips and walk over in front of him.

He looks up at you with big puppy dog eyes.“Wait, I think it will be easier for both of us if I get out of this Santa suit and sit on the couch. Then I will take you in the bedroom and älskar din fitta. I hope the beard won’t bother you. Its glued on.”

 “It won’t bother me at all Bill.” You grinned. “That sounds like a good lunch for both of us.”

You lean down and kiss his lips before he gets up. He reaches up to hold your face in his larges hands as he kisses you. You weren’t expecting it, but you go with the moment and straddle him in the chair. His hands move down under your dress grabbing your ass. You gasp as he kisses your neck.

Bill pulls back looking at you. “Change of plans Candy girl. I want that ass back in the bedroom right now. I don’t know how much longer we have but I’ll make it long enough to fuck you right.”

You nod yes. As Bill is up starting to follow you to the bedroom there is a knock on the door.

He smacks your ass. “Go on back. I’ll be there soon, and I’ll be naked.”

He opens the trailer door. “What’s up?”

The production assistant is standing there with a plate of Christmas cookies. ““want a cookie?”

Bill chuckled. “No, thank you. I have all I need for now.”

He shuts the door. Takes off his suit carefully and runs to the back bedroom. He jumps on the king-sized bed beside you. Since he was coming back naked you went a head and took all your clothes off. This is not something you would normally do but some how you feel completely comfortable with him. You know you both want the same thing even if its just for this one filming day. And time may not be on your side before you are called back to set and film the last seen.

You lean right into each other kissing tongues playing against each other as he slid his hand down your body to pet you before he touched you deeper. You moan against his lips. He finds that spot that really drives you nuts and gets you ready as he turns you on your back holding his body over you looking at your react to his touch. You open your eyes to look at him when his fingers slide out of your wetness. His face is beautiful, eyes on yours.

Your hands go to his chest moving up to pull him down to you. He lines himself up and starts to slowly move into you as you kiss. You gasp as you feel his every little move open you up. You moan throwing your head back moving your hips to find some comfortable position as he filled you. You take in a deep breath and letting it out biting your lip as he starts to thrust. You circle your hip pushing back matching his intensity. You know your going to scream any moment so you grab a pillow to smother your own sounds. Screaming into it. He moves the pillow from your face. Sweat covers his body and yours. You grab the sheets.

 “I need to see your face.” Bill panted. “ Look at me.”

You look at him but drift your gaze away. “Fuck Bill, I can’t …”

He slows pulling back a little. Then he goes at it again deeper finding that perfect spot that makes you moan louder. He groans as the two of you move in perfect harmony. You really hope the trailer is sound-proof or there is a lot of noise outside from traffic, so no one is hearing the two of you. Its barely a split-second thought because he is pushing you ever so close to your finish.

You whimper “Right there, Bill. Just a little harder, please.”

Bill picks up the pace, “Fuck I love how tight you feel. I got you, I got you.”

He goes harder right where you need it. Your body shakes as your overcome with Euphoria. He explodes inside you as a knock it heard at the door.

Bill screams. “Fuck!”

The production assistant yelled. “Five minutes Bill.”

He kisses you softly as he pulls out. He gets up and offers his hand to help you up. You take it and sit on the edge of the bed looking at all of him to take in this moment in your mind as much as you possible can.

Bill sighed heavily. “Sorry we don’t have more time right now. You ok?”

You catch your breath. “Yeah, I’ll be good.”

As you both are getting dressed you hear another knock on the door.

The production assistant came back., “We are ready for the two of you on set.”

You get dressed and get yourself together as much as possible. Your hair and make-up is a mess. Bill has his Santa suit covering him, but he can barely get it on correctly himself. There were multiple people helping him this morning. When he opens the trailer door the snow is coming down in buckets as the wind blows. He helps you step down from the trailer. Someone runs over with a big coat for him but he grabs it to wrap around you since his suit keeps him over heated and you have the barely there dress on. You both don’t exactly look as put together as you did when you went into the trailer. When the Assistant director sees you both he throws up his hands and shakes his head.

Bill whispered. “I think we’re in trouble.” He laughed.

The assistant director comes over, “Ok you two. I think you need some time back in wardrobe, hair and make-up before we get started again.”

You lower your head. You didn’t want to cause the production to be behind. You really weren’t thinking clearly. You were just having a good time while it was right in front of you.

Bill lifted your chin up to look at him, “No worries. I’ll make sure everyone knows its my fault. It was really worth it to me. I hope it was to you?”

You give him a little smile. “Yes, it was worth it completely.”

After the teams do their magic on you both, its back to set. The smoke machine is already going when you take your marks. Santa is sitting on his throne. You are standing happily beside it. You are bent down pretending to talk to a little girl before she goes to meet Santa. You have no lines here.

The assistant director yelled, “When you hear the gunshots, I just want everyone to run out of frame screaming.”  

The director yells, “action.”

A masked assailant appears from the smoke and start shooting. They are shooting blanks of course but it is loud enough to make you jump up and run as if it was real. You and everyone else starts to scream as the gunfire begins.

When you are out of frame you hear someone announce, ““Three days before Christmas and somebody kills Santa!”

[autumnstwilight]

Crystalized

Rating: T Words: ~5.5k Tags: FFXV, one-shot, IgNoct, King Regis, soulmates, Omen Trailer, Verse 2 Summary: As his infant son sleeps, King Regis dreams of a future prince and a lonely, bloodstained end to it all. Desperate to avert this future, he begs the Crystal to ensure that one of his son's companions will stay with him always. But the magic has a will of its own, and his simple plea has unintended consequences.

Read on AO3

It was after Aulea passed that Regis began to have the dreams. A young man, clad in the black of royalty, stumbling through a vast desert. Though the youth was much older than his Noctis, who was only just beginning to shed the baby fat from his cheeks, he knew them to be one and the same. The young man looked around, with eyes as empty as the clear skies above him, as cold as ice. Leaning on his sword, he rose to his feet and pushed onward, following in the path of a dog who left no tracks nor trace on the silken sand. An elegant and noble creature, with a magnificent coat of pure white, but the shadow that stretched across the sands showed the beast hunched, jaws open and slavering as it trotted along with the mien of a starved wolf. And though the youth followed faithfully, Regis felt a deep sense of dread, knowing that the right path had been lost long ago, and buried under the shifting dunes.

When the time came, the wolf would devour the boy, far from the places that anyone knew. Blood and bone would be swallowed by the desert, never to be seen again.

He tried, in his waking hours, to put the dreams from his mind. He told himself that these nightmares were in some way, natural, a manifestation of his grief for his wife and his anxieties over his son’s future. It was to be expected.

And yet at night, when the yellow gaze of the wolf met his own, saliva dripping from a blackened tongue, he could take no reassurance in these thoughts.

The crystal hummed, an eternal, dim vibration like the aftershock of a struck bell. Perhaps he was the only one who could hear it. Still it teased at the periphery of his senses, a tune forever waiting for the next note. A consonance that never came. He felt that he could go mad with it, wondered if his ancestors had. The un-song spoke to him, warning him to be wary. To be vigilant. To be afraid.

The dreams were no mere anxiety. He held his sleeping child close to his chest, feeling his tiny ribcage expand and contract, the heavy and relaxed warmth of one who was not dreaming at all. The closer the wolf came, night after night, the more certain he was that this was an ill omen.

It had always been planned that Ignis Scientia, the firstborn son of House Scientia, would be the advisor for the next king, even before Noctis himself had been born. The boys would be raised together, and come to develop the trust and understanding that could only exist between brothers. Now that the boy had grown into a charmingly polite, well-behaved, and bright five-year-old, Regis saw no reason at all to change that plan. Rather, he found himself pushing for them to be introduced ahead of schedule.

“The boy hasn’t even begun his own schooling yet. What could he possibly advise your son on?”

“He will not need to advise yet. I merely hope that they can form a bond between them, one that will ever pull my son toward the light.”

It was done as the king said. The small boy peered up at him over thick-rimmed glasses, fidgeting a little with nerves. Perhaps he was not yet old enough to understand what he was being told about his role, what it meant for a king to push ever onward. What it meant to accept consequences. Yet he answered to Regis in a clear voice, and held out his hand to Noctis. The boys held on to each other tightly.

And the dreams continued. Again and again Noctis stumbled, alone on foreign battlefields, led astray by forces he didn’t comprehend. The wolf salivated over the blood spilled, waiting for him to fall. Where were the friends and allies that he should have? Would his son truly be left to face the world alone?

It was another year before he decided that something must be done. He took the boys deep into the Citadel, to the darkened room with the towering black vault. Here, the magic hummed louder than anywhere else. An electric blue danced at the corners of his vision. At the center of it all was a fearsome and unforgiving light.

The boys stood before the vault, hand in hand. Noctis seemed to shiver as they approached, and Ignis squeezed his hand, looking on with curiosity. Such a faithful and obedient child never seemed to suspect that an adult might do wrong, and therefore, he never seemed to fear as long as there was one around. He looked at the king with unblemished trust.

Regis reached out a hand to the Crystal, and made his plea.

Please give my son a guide. I know that the road will be hard, but do not let him face the trials ahead alone. Let the fate of this boy be forever entwined with my son’s, so that at the very least, they will always have each other.

Threads of magic began to form in the palm of his hand, an answer. He drew them in gently, like strands of spider silk, and carefully twisted them, so that they became one. It was done. He swayed on his feet, momentarily leaning against the Crystal’s vault. The magic was heavy, even in its delicacy.

Ignis had not let go of Noctis’ hand.

The dreams never ceased, but they changed. He still saw Noctis, blade in hand, fighting an endless onslaught of armored soldiers. His hair still clung to his face with sweat, his chest still heaved with his labored breathing, his blood still splattered in spidery patterns across the ground. But his once cold and pale eyes had taken on a deeper shade of blue, a whisper of the crystalline magic in his veins.

At the end of the dreamscape, he confronted the wolf, and took its head as a prize.

It was not long after when Regis learned the truth.

He sank to his knees in front of the vault that held the Crystal, willing the images to vanish from his mind. His own hand, his own blade, his own son.

Chosen.

The ring of the Lucii burned cold around his finger, and he had never wanted more to tear the thing off and shatter it with his blade, sink the pieces to the depths of the ocean, let the world be damned. What future, what light, what gods dared to demand his son as their price? He had borne every burden of his lineage without complaint, but this was a weight that threatened to break him.

His ancestors did not try to console him, merely reminded him of the fate they had each carried, one after another, for close to two millennia. Something so great could not be stopped once it was put into motion. It was meaningless to try. The Chosen would meet his destiny one way or another. The readiness was all.

The king wiped the tears from his eyes, swallowed down the taste of bile, and walked tall from the room.

His grief lingered, it was many months before he could so much as look at his son without the pain lancing through his heart anew. And so, it was even longer before he came to comprehend the cruelty of what he had done.

Noctis was playing with Ignis as usual, the older boy ever patient and kind, beyond anything Regis could have asked from one so young. He still held within his hand their twin strings of fate, though he had not looked at them since that day when he had first deigned to interfere. Noctis fell, and Ignis was there to help him stand, to brush the dirt from his knees and hands. Regis opened his palm to see, in his mind’s eye, what he had been avoiding. The two threads were irreversibly entwined, bound now by the will of the Crystal and not his own. Yet one thread now came to a short and clipped end, and beyond that, the other paled and frayed, miserable in contrast to how brightly it shone with its partner intact.

The guilt was sharp. He looked at the boy, a good and brave child, one he and Noctis already owed so much to. One who was already beginning to feel like a second son. He thought of Aulea, and the part of him that had been ripped away when she died. He thought of Noctis, and the all-consuming grief that would not only be felt by him, but which he had now condemned another to.

Ignis, I have done you wrong.

There was little that could be done, except to hope that he did not err further. It had been a desperate and foolish mistake, one made by a new father out of love for his son. He hoped that the gods and ancestors would forgive him. He vowed to take it as a reminder of the power and responsibility that he bore.

His guilt over this matter, however, was forgotten in the wake of the Marilith attack. His sole focus, his sole wish, his sole purpose was to make sure that Noctis recovered. The world could not survive without its chosen king, he told himself. It was right, difficult but right, to sacrifice all else to ensure that Noctis was safe. That was how he silenced the knowledge that he himself could not withstand another blow.

They left the ashes of Tenebrae behind them. The future oracle had chosen to remain. He had taken Noctis and run, while she stood tall, refusing to abandon her home and brother. Stronger than any child should be. Would Noctis ever be able to live up to her? Would he?

By the time they returned to Insomnia, he had forgotten all about Ignis.

It was late at night by the time they returned, yet the boy was waiting. He appeared somewhat thin and tired, but ran to Regis’ side and reached up to hold Noctis’ hand, as he slept in the king’s arms. He took a moment to cling, one hand on Noctis and the other clutching and the king’s cape, and Regis allowed it, before taking him by the hand as he headed to Noct’s bedroom. When the prince was tucked in, Ignis crawled onto the bed beside him. After a moment, Regis cleared his throat to suggest that Ignis return to his parents, but the boy was already asleep. He sighed, and adjusted the blankets to cover them both.

And so it went on. He could hardly voice complaint about how inseparable the boys were, not when he had willed it himself, but it was another of so many things that filled him with quiet dread toward the future. Loath be it for him to deny their present happiness, ephemeral as it must be.

Though his physical wounds healed, Noctis was never quite the same after the attack, and Regis was pleased that he had at least one friend to serve as comfort and support. He was also getting along better with the Amicitia’s boy these days, but their relationship was more push and pull. Gladiolus taunted and cheered Noctis in turns, drawing determination from his complacency. On the other hand, Ignis provided him with quiet counsel and a listening ear. He also seemed eager to take on a wide assortment of tasks for the prince, despite the fact that some of them were for Noctis to do, and others could have easily been left to the servants. He was never intended to be a maid, and yet he cleared up Noctis’ things without complaint, dipping into a bow and responding, “It’s no trouble at all, your Majesty,” when Regis attempted to discourage this habit. He practically had to give the boy a scolding, saying that it was imperative that Noctis learn to take responsibility for himself. Ignis finally relented, thought Regis suspected that he was still coddling Noctis in private and taking the fall for his son’s errors, though he could never prove it.

It was only a short time after Noctis had begun his first year of junior high. The prince attended school in a well-off and safe neighborhood, but it was a public school nonetheless, so that he might learn a little of life outside the nobility, and sympathy for the common people. Or such was the official reasoning. The true reason was so that, even for a short time, he could experience a carefree life, to the extent that it was possible.

Ignis, on the other hand, worked near from dawn to dusk with private tutors not bound to traditional school hours. Not all of the blocks in his schedule were full, but it was understood that the majority of the empty ones would be devoted to self-study, and the remainder to the prince. It was a schedule that an adult would find punishing, and yet, at fourteen, he seemed to be thriving under the pressure. The only hint to the contrary was the ever-present can of black coffee beside his stack of books.

Consequently, Regis was surprised to hear that the boy had requested special permission to begin training with the Crownsguard.

“He's absolutely determined,” said Cor. “I’ve turned him down five times already. But he made me promise to ask you. Says he won't let it interfere with his education or other duties.”

Regis raised a hand to his temple. “I am less worried that he'll neglect his duties than I am that he will neglect himself. He is barely more than a child.”

“He is,” said Cor, “older than I was when I joined. Which he has pointed out to me. Repeatedly.”

“You are…”

“An exception, your Majesty? A special case? You know I don't buy into that ‘Immortal’ bullshit, pardon my words. I am lucky, no more.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Let him give it a shot. If there’s any trouble, I’ll find a reason to turn him away. But gods know I wish all my cadets were this determined.”

It was a few months before Cor admitted, with a hint of sheepishness, that there could be no reason for turning Ignis away from the Crownsguard that would not be an obvious and utter lie.

It had been quite some time since Regis had seen Ignis close up, perhaps not surprising since even meetings with his son were becoming far rarer than he would have liked. But he knew that Noctis would be training today, working on mastering the art of warping. He had decided to make a show of support and encouragement, also wondering if his physical proximity would provide a boost to Noctis’ magic. However, it was Ignis that he saw first.

He seemed to have shot up by at least six inches overnight. His shoulders were much broader, and he had definitely put on some muscle, in contrast to the gangly and bookish look he had had before. When he bowed to Regis and greeted him, his voice was jarringly deep compared to the light, boyish tone the king had become so used to hearing when he and Noctis played together.

Regis nodded and smiled thinly through the abrupt awareness of the passage of time and how damnably old he himself had become.

He gave Ignis a nod and gestured for him to return to his training. The young man seemed to be working through a set of drills with the lance, repeating the same pattern of strikes and parries over and over, each set such a perfect imitation of the last that it could have been a recording set on loop. Regis could find nothing to fault in his form, except for the rather ostentatious twirl he gave the lance before dismissing it in a shower of crystalline sparks. Impressive looking, but impractical, the sort of thing so many young fighters would learn a hard lesson about at the hands of a mentor or, if they were unlucky, a foe.

Noctis and Gladiolus had entered the training hall just prior, and Ignis glanced over as if he had been aware all along, and the showy maneuver was for their benefit. Having finished with his practice, he retreated to the back of the hall to wipe his face with a towel and drape it over his shoulders. Gladiolus had been expecting the king, and so he gave a bow before taking his place as the instructor for this session. Noctis spent several long moments staring in his father’s direction before also getting into position, summoning a blunt-edged training sword into his hand.

“Noctis.”

His son turned to look at him, with an expression that was vulnerable for a moment before turning guarded, a feigned teenage disaffection.

“I’m here to help, if you will let me. Show me what you can do.”

Noctis gave a cocky, half-grin, “Don’t need help. But I’ll show you.”

And he was off. The warp was clumsy, heavily telegraphed, and fell short of the target, earning him a whack over the head with Gladiolus’ wooden training sword. He barely caught himself before his face hit the ground. But it was indeed a true warp strike, perhaps his first. Gladiolus was pulling Noctis to his feet with a broad grin, and Noctis too was grinning while rubbing his presumably bruised scalp.

Across the hall, beyond the shimmering trail of magic and the fading afterimage, Ignis was staring back at them, the light of the crystal reflected in his eyes as though he were transfixed. When he realized that he had been noticed, he quickly turned away. But to Regis, he had already betrayed himself.

Regis was not one to act without consideration. He had, after all, learned something from his younger days. He waited for another opportunity to drop by a place where he knew the boys would likely be, and observe their interaction for a while before greeting his son.

He watched them cross the courtyard together. Ignis was immaculately dressed as always, something that became even more apparent when it was Noctis standing next to him. He carried himself well, with better posture than half the dignitaries and nobleman Regis had seen. He was alert and protective, and that perhaps was a result of his training. But there was something else in the way he was just a shade closer to Noctis than necessary, the way he reached out to steer and guide him, though his hand rarely touched, in the way his gaze always strayed back to Noctis, though never when Noctis was looking. And in the way his overly serious expression gave way to a clumsy but brilliant smile when Noctis placed a hand on his arm and addressed him fondly.

“Thanks Iggy. I’ll see you later.... Hi, Dad.”

The suspicion that had been lurking since that day in the training room was confirmed. The boy was smitten.

He could not shake the feeling that all of this was his fault, though he tried to persuade himself otherwise. He had asked the Crystal to give Noctis a guide, not for… this. It was likely simple happenstance, a passing teenage fancy and nothing to do with magic. But his heart was heavy, as he called Ignis aside after a Citadel meeting and waited until all others had filed out of the room, filling the time with chatter about Noctis’ exam results, training and diet. When they were alone, he broached the real topic of this discussion.

“Ignis. I imagine that you are aware of this, but now that Noctis has grown older I must say it out loud. He is my only son, and likely destined for a political marriage. You understand how precarious our situation is, and how few options for negotiation are left to us, so I will not impress them upon you.”

Ignis nodded, serious and attentive as always, with an expression that said he was waiting for what would be said next.

“I understand that teenagers will do as teenagers are wont to do. However, in light of the… circumstances, I feel that Noctis becoming involved in any serious kind of, should I say, romantic entanglement would be undesirable, given that it will likely be brought to an end by events outside of his control.”

He could tell now, that though Ignis’ expression was still impassive, there were feelings brewing just under the surface and kept away from the light. His jaw had tensed, his fingertips had gone white from the pressure on the stack of paper in his hands.

“I know and trust that you have no desire to see him hurt. Do take care to guide him so.” Regis said this as gently as he could, but found himself unable to meet Ignis’ eyes for the pain he might find there.

“Of course. Your Majesty.” Ignis’ voice was level, but his tone bore the fierce protectiveness it always did toward Noctis. Regis knew he had achieved what he had set out to do, Ignis would defend Noctis from his own feelings as fiercely as he did anything else. And hopefully, that would save the both of them at least a small measure of pain.

Dismissed, Ignis bowed and left the room. When the door closed, Regis sank into the nearest chair. He hoped that some day, doing the right thing would feel right.

Time ran thin, and the day and hour of their parting drew close. He stood on the stairs before the Citadel, hoping that someday, Noctis would understand his words, along with all the things he was unable to say. And perhaps that he would be forgiven.

At least, by the time his powers finally failed and Niflheim-made weapons tore his body apart, Noctis would be far away and safe.

The crystal realm was a cold place where he sat, silent and vigilant, waiting for the destined hour. The minds of his forebears bled into his own, their hearts unmoving and unmoved, single-minded in their duty to the soul of the star. His first act here had been to beg for the life of Nyx Ulric and the future of Insomnia, and he could not help but feel that among these ancients, he was seen as a foolish and sentimental child. If so, then let him be. They had been separated from human concerns for a great time, and had forgotten. He would remind them then, of compassion. The Father King was also a role that must be played.

The next to arrive was not his son, but a stumbling figure, drenched, shivering, battered from head to toe. But his gaze was fiery, and his voice clear and ringing in the void. Regis would have known him anywhere.

“Kings of Lucis, lend me your strength!”

Along with his own horror, the merciless judgement of the Mystic rose in the back of his mind, he knew that the Founder King would strike before it happened. He allowed no intrusions by the unworthy. Ignis was screaming, clutching his eyes, yet trying desperately to utter the rest of his plea. Regis held up a hand, knowing the Mystic would sense his intentions.

“Let us hear him.”

“He has no part in this. Merely another mortal begging to alter the future for their own shortsighted ends.”

The Mystic paused for a moment.

“One who has already touched the light of the Crystal with vulgar hands. A second intrusion will not be forgiven.”

Surrounded by blue flames, Ignis’ eyes were wide with pain and terror.

“It is my fault,” spoke Regis, and the other Kings of Yore shifted. “Do not judge this boy for a wrong which I myself committed.”

The Mystic allowed Ignis a moment of respite, and the young man struggled to catch his breath. His head turned to Regis, and the Father King spoke.

“I, too, sought to save the life of my son. I took their fates and bound them. You know that it was I who made the plea. He could not have, could never… He was only a child.”

“Worldly foolishness. You have shamed us.” It was the Rogue who spoke.

“I am not asking you to forgive me.”

And then came Ignis’ voice, ragged but unbroken, “Ardyn…”

Regis tilted his head toward the Mystic. "Oh. It seems we have your brother to thank for this. Shall we not aid in this battle?”

The Mystic shifted, then drew himself up to full height.

“It is our duty to fight against the Immortal Accursed. We shall not let this opportunity pass us by. However,” he lowered his head toward Ignis, “the price will be paid. By this boy. You have nothing left to give.”

“If it must be so…” Regis sighed, accepting.

Ignis looked up at the Founder King, breathing heavily but undaunted, and Regis felt a surge of pride amidst the relentless sorrow.

“If it costs my own life to save him,” he spoke with the weight of an oath, “I will pay that price.”

A myriad of emotions rose and overlapped. The satisfaction of the Mystic, the battle-hunger of the Fierce, the rebelliousness of the Rogue, the protectiveness of the Just, the sentiment of the Oracle, the serenity of the Wise, the resolution of the Warrior, the dutifulness of the Pious, the determination of the Conqueror, the readiness of the Clever, the acceptance of the Wanderer, the loftiness of the Tall.

The love of the Father.

Regis knelt before Ignis, leaning forward so as not to tower over him. The young man looked fragile, pale, small. He saw his own blue light shimmer across Ignis’ features, shining back from his eyes and catching in his wet and mussed hair. He reached out a single fingertip to brush that hair aside. Ignis looked up at him, unflinching.

“Your fate is not to die here. The Ring will take a toll on your flesh, the power will exact its blood price, and I can do nothing to stop it. But fight well, and your life will not be taken from you.”

Ignis placed a hand over his heart and bowed in response. Regis continued, knowing that he had but one chance to make things right.

“I am afraid that I must seek your forgiveness. Long ago, I sought to change my son’s fate, by altering yours. I fear that all I have done is placed a thorn in your heart, one that will cause you much pain. I could not undo my mistake then. I can now.”

Ignis’ gaze faltered for a moment, and he appeared to be searching for words. When he spoke again, his voice was as bold as always.

“Your Majesty, with all due respect… That thorn, as you call it, is the most precious thing that I have in the world. I will not give it back.”

He smiled for the first time since he had arrived in this strange place.

“I remember that day, when I stood in a place not unlike this, and the spirits asked me if i would stay with Noctis forever. If I was willing to die for him. My answer has not changed. Nor will it ever.”

Regis spoke again, “You were merely a child. You never should have been asked. Not to change your own fate.”

“Be that as it may. But if I may speak frankly, I don’t care why I love Noctis.”

And there was the fierceness, stripped down to its core.

“Had I never touched this fire… had our paths diverged, I have no idea who I would have become. That man is a stranger to me, and one I rather pity, knowing what he has missed.”

The expression on his face, in his voice, was so tender that it seemed it might break if it were touched.

“Leave the thorn in my heart. Let the fire consume me. That’s all I ask.”

“Very well,” said Regis, and rose to his feet, stepping back to join the other Kings of Yore. “The battles ahead will be hard, and the road long. But I have faith in you.”

Ignis bowed once more, and while his face was hidden, Regis spoke.

“One last thing. Whatever form your love for my son takes, you have my blessing to pursue it.”

He looked up, surprise flickering across his expression like the firelight, and then he was gone.

When Noctis arrived, he was alone. Even the Kings of Yore did not convene for him, there was no need to pass judgement on one who possessed the birthright to use the Ring. He could not hear the voices of his ancestors, only feel the cold flame settle into his veins. Ever so slowly, the power would chip away at his bones. But the wolf was at his heels now, and so he had to struggle forward, lest he fall and be devoured.

I am here, said Regis, and hoped that he sensed it. Noctis gathered strength, and moved forward, the Sword of the Father held tightly in his hands.

Despite all of his efforts at averting it, the dream had come to pass. Fate could not be defied, or perhaps their enemy was simply too great. The only hope, the only one that there had ever been, was that Noctis would be strong enough to do this on his own.

There was both pain and pride in watching him battle. His was not the steady, unshakable determination of the others who had worn the Ring of their own free will, but the hesitance of a child bearing a mantle that was far too big for him. He faltered, he trembled, he stumbled. But he did not give up.

And when the jaws closed around him and all seemed lost, it turned out that he was not alone after all.

When Noctis was drawn into the Crystal, Regis saw all of it through his eyes. There was nothing here but the endless reverberance of the Light, and so Noctis’ memories spilled like ink to color the void. His doubts, his pain, his fear. The knowledge of his final destiny that Regis had withheld from him for so long. Lunafreya, sinking to the depths. Ignis, scarred and helpless. Ravus, twisted into something cruel, far beyond anything Noctis would have wished on him.

And beneath that, over that, woven through it all, love, love, love. Every moment spent with his friends shining in bright fragments. Every word, every touch, every smile, every laugh. He loved with the fury and intensity that only mortals know, when their love must come to an end. It put the brilliance of the Gods to shame. Perhaps this was why their Providence was to be borne in the hands of a man.

“The Light waxes full.”

The new king departed on his final journey.

Threads of fate twisted and twirled as if blown by the wind, endlessly fluctuating possibilities. Like spider silk, they were so thin and pale that they could only be seen in the brief moments when they caught the light, and like spider silk, they were far stronger than they appeared. Even the gods could not read nor predict these undulations, as one could never count the waves on the sea, and so they handled them indelicately, slicing through the web with flames and blades and claws to serve their own ends, heedless of the lives torn by their weight. But the severed ends still shimmered, and after exploring a thousand thousand possibilities, they caught and held fast.

Two threads converged and shone bright.

The power had passed from the Ring, and the souls contained within freed to their eternal rest. Their duty complete, they seemed to bear no further interest in the living world. Regis lingered, still new and human, bound to the world by the loved ones that dwelt there.

This was the future that so many had lived and died in service of. He wanted to see it, at least for a moment. The world was battle-torn and weary, but it basked under the warm light of a sun that would never again be blotted out. Flowers bloomed from the cracked roads, and still waters gathered where the earth had been torn.

He followed then, along with Noctis, through the halls and courtyards to be rediscovered, their aching familiarity and strange novelty after so much time. The throne room was bright with the sunlight that fell through the missing wall, laying bare the tattered and faded interior. Motes of dust spun their winding dance on the air.

Noctis wasn’t alone. The blue magic had died with the Crystal, and Regis could no longer see the threads of fate, whether they be bound or unbound. Yet Ignis remained, as did the old scars that marked an offering willingly given. He bowed in service, in loyalty, in affection.

The new King rose from the throne and went with him, falling in step by his side. The light fell across their shoulders in an echo of the first time that Regis had watched the prince and his advisor leave this room. As they walked, Ignis slipped his fingers between Noctis’, ungloved hands revealing the matching scars of the Ring that they bore.

In the garden, there was a confession. An vow. A kiss. The rest was not for him to see.

[askjaaryl]

Episode #002: “Emotional Problems”

Paul talks to Maggie...and then Alex. Relationships take two steps forward and one step back.

Paul slipped out of his bedroom, wincing slightly as he did. He couldn’t cook very much, but the least he could do was make some coffee for the boys when they woke up to start the day. He smiled softly when he saw the two curled up on the pull-out couch together, under a blanket, with Dog sleeping on their legs.

“Hey, buddy,” Paul said softly, “Wanna go outside and run?” he asked him.

Dog jumped up at the mention of the word outside and ran towards the door.

Paul opened the door to let him out and waited for a moment, deciding if he should keep the door open or not. Dog could easily scratch on the door when he wanted inside, but it would be easier if he could run back inside on his own, especially if he was in the shower, since that took a lot longer with his injuries.

He decided to leave the door open, since the chill of the air wasn’t too bad this morning, and watched Dog run out.

He walked over to the coffee maker and started it. When he lifted his arm, he felt the familiar twinge of pain in his chest and he took a shaky breath, leaning back and wincing. He had pain pills, but he wanted to save them in case someone else needed them.

He waited to make sure the old coffee maker actually worked before he hobbled over to his room and grabbed a small box from under his bed and a lighter from his bedside table, going out to the porch and closing the door behind him.

Paul sat down slowly on the chair Daryl usually used when he was smoking, since Paul wouldn’t let him smoke in the trailer. He lit up the joint, just as Maggie walker over.

“It’s eight in the mornin’, Paul,” she sighed.

Paul just shrugged, wincing as he did.

“How are you feelin’?” she asked.

“Fine,” Paul said simply, “Alex stitched me up.”

“He say anything to you?”  Maggie demanded immediately.

“No,” Paul said quietly and sighed, “How’s the family today?”

“They’re all still asleep,” Maggie shrugged, “I figured I’d let ‘em sleep in after everything. War takes a lot outta you,” she joked weakly, “Glenn’s been sleepin’ a lot more. Alex says it’s normal, with the injuries he’s faced, but I’m seekin’ a second opinion from the Commonwealth.”

Paul nodded, “Sounds good,” he said quietly.

Maggie glanced at the door, “How’s it goin’ with those two?”

Paul laughed weakly, “They’re fine. I’m just getting a little tired of playing third wheel.”

“They together?” Maggie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m assuming,” Paul sighed, putting his head back, “You don’t just make out with someone you don’t at least have feelings for...well, most people don’t,” he smirked slightly, “Aaron and Daryl don’t seem like the type.”

Maggie stared at him for a moment before sighing, “Okay,” she said, leaning on the side of the porch, “What’s up? You’re upset, I can tell.”

Paul pursed his lips and sighed, taking a long drag. He looked up and blew the smoke out, but kept his head back when he was done, “Can I confess something?”

“Always,” Maggie told him.

“I’m absolutely terrified of being alone again,” Paul sighed, refusing to meet her eyes, “I’d never tell anyone this but you...not even Glenn,” he took a shaky breath, “I’ve been alone while surrounded by people my entire life. And I know I have you, Glenn, and Enid...but it’s not the same,” he whispered, feeling his eyes sting a little, “It’s not like what I feel for the both of them.”

“Have you told them?” Maggie asked.

“Oh yeah, just let me tell my friends who are a couple that I have feelings for the both of them,” Paul snorted. He smiled when Dog ran up on the porch and got up, wincing slightly as he did, opening the door to let him in.

“You should get back in bed,” Maggie told him, “You need to be on bedrest and I don’t wanna hear Alex coming to complain to me.

Paul sighed, “I know,” he winced.

“Take your pain meds,” Maggie sighed, “And...think about tellin’ them how you feel. You know they won’t mind,” she said before walking away.

Paul sighed, putting out the joint and tucking it into the box again. Before he could get inside though, another familiar voice interrupted him.

“Paul,” Alex called, walking up to his trailer, “I wanted to make sure you were taking your medication.”

“Yes,” Paul snapped.

Alex squinted at him, “Are you high?”

“No,” Paul sighed, crossing his arms.

“Don’t do that, it pulls on your stitches,” Alex sighed as well. He walked up the steps and held out a plastic bag, “Ginger. Put it in your tea, it’ll help with joint pain if you get stiff.”

“Thanks,” Paul said quietly, taking the bag.

“You should be taking your pain meds,” Alex said again.

“You should keep your nose out of my business,” Paul mumbled, “We aren’t together anymore. I’m not your business anymore.”

“You’re my patient.”

“Then let’s keep it professional.”

Alex sighed again, scrubbing a frustrated hand through his hair, “So that’s just...it? We’re over?”

“I think I’ve made that abundantly clear,” Paul mumbled, looking down at the bag and picking at it awkwardly, “If you want me to see someone else, I’ll stay in Alexandria through the rest of my recovery.”

“No, Paul, just…” Alex trailed off and let out a frustrated noise, “I don’t understand what you want here.”

“I don’t want anything from you!” Paul said quickly, “Why can’t you just get that I don’t...feel the same way about you now? You fucked up, not me!”

“I was drunk!” Alex yelled, “Give me a break! We’re both smart people, Paul, we know that’s not why!”

“Oh, please, enlighten me on the real reason,” Paul scoffed.

“Because of them!” Alex gestured to the house, “You have feelings for them both and don’t lie to me about it!”

Paul stayed silent and swallowed, “So what if I do?”

“They’re together, nothing is ever going to come of it,” Alex snapped, “So just accept it. There’s no need to be a homewrecker over this.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Paul demanded.

“What’s goin’ on out here?” Daryl finally demanded, swinging open the door.

“Sorry I woke you,” Paul mumbled.

“Coffee smell woke me, not you,” Daryl snapped, not taking his eyes off of Alex, “Then I heard a dumbass out here yellin’, figured I’d come to investigate.”

Dog’s head peered out the door, always close behind him.

Alex left pretty quick after that, not looking for a second break in his nose. He was kind of dumb, Paul thought, but he knew better than to cross someone who wouldn’t put up with his shit.

“Ya smell like weed,” Daryl deadpanned.

Paul just shrugged.

“You high?” Daryl asked, staring at him.

“No, just smoked enough to take the edge off,” Paul whispered, “I woke up and my chest hurt more than usual.”

“Take your pain meds, Paul,” Daryl said quietly, opening the door wide enough, gesturing for him to come inside, “And get your ass inside, it’s cold.”

Paul just rolled his eyes and walked back in.

Paul sat in his room, his back against the wall and his eyes closed as he leaned his head back. He didn’t like pain meds. These ones didn’t make him drowsy or anything, he just...never liked them. He came from parents who were both heavy addicts, though he’d never tell anyone that. They were the reason he ended up in the home, after he was taken away from them.

Paul always told the counselors at the shelter that they were the reason for his “emotional connection problem,” since they never showed any interest in caring for him.

Ron and Ann Monroe, A+ parents.

Paul wondered if they were still out there somewhere, sometimes.

Then he remembered he didn’t care.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his train of thought. He quickly marked the page of his book that he’d been stuck on for the better part of the hour and sat it on his bedside table before walking over to the door. He smiled slightly when he saw Aaron, “Yeah?”

“Uh...just wanted to check on you and bring you some tea,” Aaron said, holding up the cup, “Daryl said you finally took your meds.”

“Yeah, he pestered me long enough,” Paul said, taking the cup and setting it on his dresser beside the door, “Thank you.”

“He also said Alex stopped by,” Aaron pursed his lips, “And that he heard somethings.”

“He isn’t my keeper, he doesn’t need to worry about me,” Paul said and sighed, “That goes for both of you. I don’t need someone to baby me, Aaron, I’ve been on my own all my life.”

“Paul,” Aaron said, sounding genuinely frustrated for the first time since Paul met him, “You don’t have to be alone anymore. We’re here...we’re staying in Hilltop, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Really?” Paul asked quietly, shuffling his feet.

“Well, yeah,” Aaron explained, “There’s already people living in my old house, since I moved out and Daryl can’t live in Alexandria with him there, as much as he’d like to be closer to Rick. He just...doesn’t deal well there. We’ve tried, it’s just not happening.”

“Oh,” Paul mumbled, not saying anything.

“Hey,” Aaron said, making him look up at the tone of voice, “No one is babying you. Daryl and I...we’re so happy to see you just alive and breathing. Sorry if it seems like we’re hovering, but...we really thought we lost you for a minute there. A-And we can’t...we can’t lose someone else, especially you, Paul.”

Paul felt his eyes sting slightly and he quickly looked away, trying to hide it.

And then Aaron was kissing him.

Aaron was kissing him.

Aaron!

Aaron leaned down to meet his lips and Paul would never admit how easy it was for him to kiss back. He’d wanted this with him for so long..

The door opened and Paul pulled away quickly. He froze for a moment when he saw Daryl and moved away, slamming the door in Aaron’s face.

So maybe he locked himself in his room.

As he said...emotional problems.

[boshawbearclaw]

The 5th Anniversary

Sorry y'all if there are some mistakes, enjoy none the less

@bisexuallychaotic-dragonprincess

___________ππππ___________

“I’ve been living in Georgia on my own for a while now, ever since I moved out of my momma’s house when I was eighteen, my dream was to live in a trailer park in Senoia, Georgia, don’t judge me ok, I don’t like material possessions. Anyway, i’ve been planning this since I was sixteen, so fast forward to age 25, i’m a welder and I have a steady income flowing and my dog, Ryeman, and I are healthy and everything is fuckin’ great. I also have a boyfriend whom i love so fuckin’ much, his name is Merle and he’s the light of my dark life. “

5 years ago--

About a few hours into unpacking the moving truck on the first day of moving, Lucas met a very shy man, Daryl Dixon, and his bombastic brother, Merle Dixon. They approached the moving truck with smirks on their faces, Lucas was in the back of the truck, bent over trying to pick up a box.

Once he picked up the one he was looking for, he turned around and headed for his trailers door but was stopped by the brothers standing in his way. The raven haired boy stopped in his tracks to stare at the men for a moment before saying, “Uh, hi, who are you two?”

The brothers stare for a moment before answering their new neighbor, “We just wanted to greet the newbie, ain’t that right Darlina?” the older brother says, ‘Darlina’ thwacks his arm with the back of his hand. Lucas smirks at the nickname, “Ignore my idiot brother, i’m Daryl.” the younger Dixon said gruffly, Lucas smiles at him, “Haha, I don’t mind a little humor, i’m Lucas Yilmaz.” the boy said while scooting them out of the way of the door with the box in his hands.

Ryeman barked excitedly as his owner walked through the door with another box, Lucas set down the box with the other ones on the living room floor. Lucas turns back around to see both the brothers peering inside of the boys trailer, “Y'all can come in if ya want.” Lucas says innocently as he bends over again to check the name of the box real quick.

Merle and Daryl both step inside at the same time, accidentally wedging them side by side in the doorway, they both grunt as they move out of each other’s way to head further inside the trailer.

Merle whistles lowly, “Wow, fancy as fuck.”, Daryl agreed with a small grunt he sent in Lucas’ direction.

“Christ, it’s hot as fuck today.” Lucas said with a grunt, he unbuttoned and slipped off his red and black flannel shirt, his sweaty tattooed torso glistened in the sun that fell through the windows. Both the brothers stare at the boy with a sort of primal hunger in their eyes, “Uh,what’re y’all starin’ at?” Lucas said quietly, peering between the both of them. They both snap out of their stupor and shake their heads, “Nothing.” Daryl quietly said, “Yeah, just admiring the view.” Merle said flirtatiously.

Lucas blushed with a small smile plastered to his face, upon hearing two new voices, Ryeman hops off of the couch and bounds towards the two men, Ryeman tries to nip at their hands but Lucas stops him by grabbing his hips and tugging backwards, “Sorry, he does that to everyone he meets for the first time, bad boy stop it. Go lay down booger.” Lucas says before motioning for his boy to go lay on the couch, he stands up straight and walks between the two men to go back outside to go fetch more boxes.

The brothers look at each other briefly before going back outside to go and help Lucas with the boxes, the eighteen year old boy thanked them before telling them where each box went. Soon they were done sorting boxes, the men were sitting on the couch with beers in their hands as

they watch Netflix on the flat screen tv, Lucas had set it up while they ate some pizza that he ordered 40 minutes ago. “Come by tomorrow if y’all want, id love it if you brought more beer, ‘cause you know you drank all of mine.” Lucas said with a smile as they shuffled to the door,

putting their boots on as Lucas walked over,

“Yeah, we’ll come back here ‘round 11:00 o’ clock at night, and don’ worry we’ll bring some ‘shine to pay ya back for the beer. Ain’t that right, Daryl?”

Daryl nods softly as he chews on the side of his thumb, ‘Aw, cute stim’ Lucas thinks to himself,

when they leave Lucas hops to unpacking the boxes around the room, setting up the room how he had in his mind. By 3:00 AM, Lucas had all of the boxes unpacked and set up in his trailer, all he had to do now is break down the boxes and toss ‘em into the back of his truck. Which Lucas will do in the morning because he is dead tired.

Lucas heads to bed with his boxer in tow, he walks into his finished bedroom and jumps into bed after turning on the box fan that was on his dresser pointed at him, for some odd reason the boy just can't fall asleep without a fan being in his face. Lucas had shed his clothes in his sleep, first came the socks, then the pants and finally the shirt, his tattoo that says *Down Boy* on his side itched so he rubbed the fresh tattoo with the tip of his fingers.

Lucas moans in delight as he took his first bite of cold pizza, it may be night time but Lucas doesnt care, he wakes up when he wakes up. 20 minutes after waking up, he leaned against the stove as he took his second bite, he looked at the stoves clock behind him, taking note of

the time, ‘it’s 11 o’clock at night, they should be here soon.’ he thought to himself.

Right on que,there was a knock on the front door, Ryeman barked as Lucas made his way over to the trailers door. When he opened the door he was met with Merle and Daryl holding two 24 packs of PBR beer and a paper bag with 3 bottles of moonshine, “Shit, y’all i was just kiddin’” he laughed as he moved outta the way so that they could get inside the homey trailer, “Nah, we had to pay ya back, ho-lee shit boy! You really outdid yerself with all the decoratin’.” Merle laughed at Lucas’ face of surprise.

“Thank you, here lemme help ya.” Lucas said as he walked over to grab the boxes of PBR, Merle felt his fingers brush against Lucas’ as he took the box, the boy put the box on the counter then walked over to Daryl and took the box as well,the other man’s fingers brushed against his fingers. “So, what do y’all wanna do?” Lucas says, Merle scratches his chin in

thought while Daryl shrugged his shoulders and bites the corner of his thumb.

All the sudden ,while the men thought of things to do, music started to blare from the neighbors from across the street, Lucas growled deeply, “You gotta be kiddin’ me, it’s fuckin’ 11 o’clock, and they’re blaring fucking music!” Lucas shouted, both Daryl and Merle flinched at the level of volume Lucas used, “Sorry about that, i’ll be right back.” Lucas said as he went down the hall to his bedroom to grab his orange and black 1911 pistol from the nightstand.

Lucas struts down the hall, pistol in hand, to the main area of the trailer, “Ha, I like your style kid, all right!” Merle said while taking out a 9mm pistol out of the back of his waistband, Daryl followed suit with his own pistol and a small smirk on the his face. “Now boys, we’s just gon’ scare them city slickers, ok?” Lucas said with a smile plastered to his face, they exited the trailer and headed across the street to the neighbors door.

They rang the doorbell, they wait patiently as the music turned down a little, Lucas heard footsteps come closer and locks being unlocked, a girl about age 17 opens the door with a preppy air about her. “What.” the girl said with a pissy attitude.

“Turn. Down. The. Music. Before we come in there and make you turn it down.” Lucas said in his serious tone, Merle and Daryl make their presence known by hanging off the boys shoulder. Lucas leans in, “And remember, i know where y’all sleep.” The boy whispers, she gasps before slamming the door in his face busting his nose, “Ah! Fuckin’ bitch!” He yelled at the door.

Lucas punched it, he screeched as pain blossomed in his fist. Daryl and Merle both put their pistols away, one brother grabbed Lucas’ wrist and the other brother grabbed his shoulders and made him turn around to guide back to the trailer. When they reached the boys home, they led him inside and made him sit on the counter as they took care of his wounds.

Merle situated himself between Lucas’ legs so he could ‘take a closer look at his nose’ as Merle said moments before, “Well, they turned down their fuckin’ music so we succeeded in that respect.” Lucas mumbled, Merle smiled as he thumbed Lucas’ cheek, “It’s alright Cher, Daryl and I will take care of you.” The man said comfortingly, Daryl agreed by putting his hand on Lucas’ thigh.

Daryl previously grabbed the medkit by the kitchen sink and set up a small station of medical supplies, he handed his brother a gauze soaked in alcohol, Merle took Lucas’ hand along with the gauze and padded the his busted up knuckles, “Mm, shit that hurts, thank you guys for helpin’ me.” Lucas said lowly, Daryl piped up a bit, “It ain’t no thang, b’sides we wouldn’t wanna let you go in there without backup.” Daryl said softly while he patted and rubbed Lucas’ thigh.

The end of the night went smoothly after the boys took care of Lucas, they drank some ‘shine and watched horror movies while layin’ all over each other. Merle was sitting on the couch with Lucas’ head on his lap, while Daryl sat on the floor with a beer in his hand. Lucas felt something

stiffen near his forehead but ignored it, as he was incredibly tired.

Lucas fell asleep on Merle minutes later with his thumb in his mouth, Daryl looked over and smiled softly before asking Merle to help him carry Lucas to bed, they stripped him to his boxers and turned on his fan before turning off the lights in the trailer and leaving the trailer after saying a few good byes to Lucas and Ryeman.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when Lucas got the call, "Hey son, I wanted to talk to you about my 5th anniversary, I was gonna have a party to celebrate being married to your step mother for 5 years and I was hoping you'd be there." Pa said on the other line, Lucas had a smile on his face the whole time, "Of course! I would love to come hang with you guys for a couple days, can I bring my boyfriend with me?" Lucas asked.

His Pa agreed and made plans for Lucas to come up to Washington State for a few days, maybe a week. They ended the call with a couple of 'i love you's and see ya soon's', Merle was in the shower getting ready for work when Lucas ended the call, "Fuckin' A, if i see Pa im gonna have to see that fucking cunt they call my uncle."

Suddenly the water shuts off, and a naked Merle steps into view, "Who you talkin' to, Cher?" The man asks, "Uh, my uh my pa, he asked me to go to Washington state for his wedding anniversary, I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to come with me?"

"Of course ill come with you, after all Daddy needs to protect his Little Boy."

Merle comes closer and envelopes his arms around Lucas' broad shoulders, pressing his nude body against his half naked one, Lucas paws at Merle's ass while he nipped at the mans neck. Merle shoved his boys underwear and grabbed his ass with possessiveness.

Merle kisses his boy with passion as he picked him up and impailed him on his cock, "Ah fuck, Daddy please." Lucas whined in between breathes, Merle started to rail Lucas without thinking.

The boy clung to his Daddy like his life depended on it.

Minutes later Lucas is in the shower with an ass full of cum, while Merle got dressed with a smile, after Lucas got outta the shower , he got dressed and ate breakfast with Merle before going to work via his truck, Merle went to work on his bike.

Lucas still doesnt know why Merle has twin lighting bolts on his bike nor has he ever met any of Merle's friends, Lucas thinks hes gonna ask him when he gets home. Lucas arrived at the contracting site with the thought of his uncle in mind. Jared, one of Lucas' friends, confronted him about his gruff attitude when he said hello this morning.

Lucas explains that he has a terrible past and that he has to see the person who gave him a terrible past for a couple of days, Jared understood what that meant and left it at that. Lucss finished some welding projects for Chevy and sent 'em to the packaging area for the roll cage bars to be sent out.

---- end of the day ----

It was around 10 o'clock when Lucas got home, ryeman barked up a storm when he hear the door open, "Hey baby boy, wanna go potty?" Lucas asked his precious dog, the boxer ran out side, pissed and took a shit before clambering up the stairs again to run into the trailer.

Lucas found Merle in bed on his phone, the clicks of the iPhone distracted the man, he didn't even noticed Lucas getting undressed in front of the bed, Merle looked up with a smile on his face, "Hey doll, why dont you get your pretty little butt over here and give me a kiss."

Lucas smirked as waltzes over to the right side of the bed where Merle was sitting, the man wrapped his arm around Lucas' hips, leaning forward a little to kiss the other mans hairy stomach. "Who ya textin'?" Lucas asks softly.

"Mm, Daryl is wondering what we're doing tonight." Merle murmured into his boys stomach, minutes later they settled down and fell asleep on each other with Ryeman at the foot of the bed.

The next day is the day of the flight.

The morning of is when Lucas packs his and Merle's bags, the Dixon brother still slept naked on his stomach while Lucas got ready, the boy stared at the rednecks pearl white ass, Lucas crawls onto the bed, prowling forward as he dragged his tongue along the mans hairy thighs up to his butt.

Lucas bites his butt cheek softly before sitting up and planting his crotch on his ass, "Merle baby, you gotta wake up, its almost time to go." Lucas whines, the man underneath him groans and opens his eyes then rolled over under Lucas.

The boy was still in his underwear whilst the Dixon brother was naked as the day he was born, "Ooh, baby you are as beautiful as a God." Merle praised in his scratchy morning voice, his erection was pressing against Lucas' own.

The boy smiled and softly kissed Merle's lips, "C'mon hon, we gotta get to the airport in time for the flight." Lucas said as he got off of his man, he walked over to their duffle bags and zipped them up before getting dressed in 0.2 seconds then walking over to the front door to set them down until they left.

Merle walked out into the hall fully dressed with his hard on still very prominent through his pants, "Hey boy, c'mere, gimme a little blowie real quick."

Merle said suggested, Lucas complies quick and easy as he walks over to Merle, getting on his knees.

Merle's fly and button was down and undone already Lucas noticed, the boy took Merle's cock in his mouth a moment later, slurping and sucking with fervor, "Ahh fuckin' A, boy yous really into it aintcha?" Merle asked in between breaths.

Lucas did the thing with his tongue that has Merle gasping and using his fingers to graple a fist in Lucas' hair, bucking forward into the warm, wet cavern.

Moments later Merle cums inside of Lucas' mouth while he held his head taught against Merle's crotch. He lets go when he feels Lucas swallow his load, the boys coughs a little before standing up to kiss Merle's lips.

"Come on M, we gotta get on the flight soon, lets go." Lucas said as he grabbed their bags and ran out the door to his truck, throwing the bags in the back of the chevy before getting into the truck, Merle follows Lucas into the truck and starts blasting some sick fuckin' tunes.

They headed for the airport, got there on time and made it through security without any fussing along with getting to their gate just before they called for people to get on. Ten minutes into their flight is when they both got comfortable enough for the 4 hour filght ahead of them.

[mikamangata]

The town that I don’t exist in

Chapter Two:

Where When is Jeon Jungkook?

Yoongi’s song Chapter One

Warnings: slight gore, briefly mentioned drug/alcohol abuse, briefly mentioned physical abuse, slight use of strong language

(Author’s note at the end)

“The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” - Albert Einstein

Min Yoongi thought of himself as many things. An outcast in a town of dirt, a loser living in a trailer on the daffodil fields at the edge of the woods and a sucker for cheap chewing gum. His dog Holly, a cheeky thing with brown curly fur, would most likely call him an insomniac with a tendency to daydream. But Holly didn’t have the ability to talk, so it was fine really. A few weeks ago Yoongi would have thought he didn’t deserve somebody like Jungkook, pure and kind and loving. He was the sweetest thing in this town, the only reason why Yoongi didn’t pack his few things to leave ages ago.

But now, he thinks bitterly, it all made sense. In this universe, so Yoongi had learned, good things come at a price. If something great happened to you, if you felt as though you were at the top of the world, fate would punch you in the face with reality and take everything away from you again. Yoongi didn’t think he deserved Jungkook, so they took him away. Yoongi wasn’t exactly sure who “they” were or if “they” even existed, but somebody had to be blamed for his misery. The worst part about the whole thing was the uncertainty, the not-knowing. Where was Jungkook? What happened to him? Was he alright? Yoongi hoped so, but with every day that went by he doubted it more.

-

Waking up without Jungkook was one of the hardest things Yoongi had to do. Don’t get him wrong, waking up without the boy in his bed was normal since the youngster only spent the night in his trailer on weekends. But not this “without Jungkook”. Because this “without” was breathtaking and panic inducing in all the worst ways. Because Yoongi knew that Jungkook wasn’t at home in his bed or at school, he was nowhere. Or everywhere maybe, Yoongi had no idea. Nobody knew, which caused the biggest devastation.

Holly knew Yoongi wasn’t doing well, he felt it. He was more obedient than he had ever been, waking up Yoongi — not that he slept much, anyways — with gentle licks and quiet whines. He waited patiently for Yoongi to open the trailer door and as soon as he did, Holly jumped around in the daffodil fields. Yoongi sat outside on the wooden bench in front of his humble home, watching his dog play for several minutes. He looked at the woods, high trees painting almost threateningly big shadows over the red flower fields. Whenever Holly got to close to the edge, Yoongi called him back to the sunnier side of the land. At some point the tea warming his hands in the chilly morning breeze got cold and Yoongi went inside to get the dog-food.

As he emptied his mug in the sink, he thought about how he always scolded Jungkook for doing that. “If you throw it away anyways, why would I even make you tea?” “Sorry, Hyung. I like the smell and the way it warms my hands, besides you don’t have hot chocolate.” Yoongi looked at the untouched red package of cocoa powder. He had bought it a few days before Jungkook went missing, so he could surprise him with it on the weekend. A thick wave of sadness, panic and freezing cold washed over him as he sank to the floor. Jungkook was gone. His sweet Jungkookie who always greeted everyone, who had only kindness and love running through his veins. Why? Why?! Yoongi swore to protect him. Whenever Jungkook came crying to him, talking about how his father was drunk or high again. Whenever Yoongi soothed his bruises with gentle kisses and his mind with warm hugs and quiet whispers.

He was gone because Yoongi didn’t protect him. Couldn’t protect him. Thick hot tears streamed down his face as he sobbed on the floor of his small kitchen. It wasn’t a gentle crying, instead hard and loud and every sob broke out of him violently as he shook. He didn’t know for how long it lasted, minutes? Hours? Time didn’t exist without Jungkook, nothing did. Yoongi just lay there on his side, looking at his fingers. He felt a headache knocking at the inside of his forehead and his eyes were burning. He panted as if he had run a marathon and tears were still running down his face, mixing with snot and spit and creating the uncomfortable puddle that his cheek was lying in. He didn’t feel like getting up ever again, he didn’t care if he starved or dehydrated.

Suddenly he heard Holly. He was barking at something outside and Yoongi’s body used this opportunity to convince him to get up. He was dizzy and the left side of his face was uncomfortably wet, but Holly was everything he had left so he went outside to look at what his dog was so frantically barking at. Holly was standing at the edge of the woods, his ears flat against his head and his posture just screamed danger, I’m ready to fight. Yoongi almost smiled; Holly was a small dog, barely reaching his knees when standing on all fours, but he had always been a feisty one. “Holly, come here. I got you breakfast.” God, his voice was terribly hoarse from all the crying. When Holly didn’t budge, he shook the metal bowl in his hand for emphasis. “Come on, I really don’t have the nerve for this. You know I don’t feel well.” But Holly still didn’t move, he wasn’t even acknowledging him. He sighed, annoyed with the situation, and walked over to his dog. As Yoongi got closer to him and reached the shadows of the tree line, he started to feel uneasy. Something nasty was crawling up his neck, making his hairs stand up and telling him to turn around, to go back. But Yoongi advanced stubbornly. As he reached Holly, who was still barking into the woods, he stopped.

The weather was nice, with the sun lighting up everything. But for some reason the trees were dark and cold. Yoongi had never liked them, couldn’t understand why Jungkook would willingly take the path through the woods to school everyday. “It’s beautiful and refreshing, Hyung”, was what he had always said, followed by a cute giggle that made his eyes all crinkly at the edges and his bunny teeth show. Yoongi always teased him for it, even though he found it breathtakingly beautiful. Why did he do that? Why didn’t he just tell him “I love the sound of your laugh and how your face lights up when you smile”? Instead he made fun of him and teased him and now he was gone. Yoongi shook his head stubbornly, he had cried enough today.

Suddenly Holly was starting to whimper, previously wagging tail tucked between his legs as he bared his teeth unsurely, confused. “Holly?” Yoongi looked at where Holly was growling at. “What’s there, hmm? What are you seeing buddy?” When Holly abruptly stopped, Yoongi looked at him. “What’s up with you?” The dog glanced at him and slowly advanced to the woods. As he reached the edge, he cried out loudly and started digging. “Wh-what are you doing? Why are you-“ but Yoongi didn’t end his sentence as he saw that Holly was pulling something out of the ground. It was some kind of dirty blue cloth, Yoongi couldn’t quite recognise it. But as Holly continued digging, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Jeans. Holly was digging up a pair of blue-jeans. No, not just a pair of trousers, somebody was wearing them.

Yoongi ran over to where Holly was and started digging with his bare hands. No, please no. Don’t do this to me, please. He was crying again, but this time he didn’t care. The ground wasn’t very solid, which made it easy to push his hands into it. Suddenly Yoongi gripped something. Something soft and cold. He pulled, he sobbed. A hand, Yoongi yanked out a sickly white hand. No, NO! He continued digging. Elbow, shoulders, neck, until the whole upper body was free. Yoongi gripped the left arm and pulled, making the boy sit up. He had dark brown hair and pale skin. His facial features were almost unrecognisable, burned and shredded. But his hair length matched Jungkook’s. The black shirt matched Jungkook’s and the blue-jeans matched Jungkook’s.

Yoongi shook the boy violently, as if he could wake him up. “Who are you? Please please please oh god.” Yoongi started frantically digging out his legs next. The boy was skinny, just like his Jungkookie. Please no. Holly was licking the boy’s face, whimpering quietly. I’m begging you, don’t be Jungkook. When he got to the lower part of his leg, Yoongi gripped the boy’s knee and pulled it out of the dirt. No shoes, the boy didn’t wear shoes. The other boy that the police had found, he didn’t wear shoes either. But they only found one of Jungkook’s shoes, right? So he’d be still wearing the other one. Yoongi swallowed thickly and slowly pulled the boy’s shirt up. Underneath was an almost white tummy, no bruises or scars. Not Jungkook, this was not Jungkook. Yoongi caught himself almost smiling, being shocked about his own selfishness. He had just found the body of a dead boy. Another mother’s heart would break this day. If this wasn’t Jungkook, it must’ve been the other missing kid. Kwon Soonyoung was his name, right? Yeah. Yoongi stroked a few dark strands out of the boys unrecognisable face, an unspoken “I’m sorry” never leaving his lips. The boy, no, the child looked so entirely abandoned, so thrown away, it broke Yoongi’s heart so fundamentally he’d never recover. “He must’ve felt so alone, so scared.” “The one who was found or the one that discovered?”

-

The news that Min Yoongi had found a dead body spread like the Black Plague, infesting people with mistrust and hatred. You see, Yoongi was already quite hated by the general population of Beullaeghol. He was the illegitimate son of the town’s vice-mayor, who had an affair with a stripper that didn’t end well. When the whole thing came out, everybody was shocked. What a scandalous thing. The vice-mayor’s marriage and career in politics couldn’t recover from this mishap, so he abdicated his position and moved to a different part of the country. He left a young, pregnant stripper behind who would later give birth to Yoongi, raise him until he was fourteen and then leave him like his father had done. Since then Yoongi had lived in the trailer by the edge of the woods, working in the bowling alley across town. His mother, a French immigrant who came to Korea searching for a better future and left with nothing but a broken heart, didn’t leave many things behind except for Yoongi’s favourite Édith Piaf records and a rusty gramophone to play them. Before she had left, she also gifted Yoongi with her most expensive possession: a rusty red 1960s Chevrolet Impala. She wasn’t that bad of a mother, Yoongi mused.

Now all those things, all of Yoongi’s belongings, were being searched by the police. He had found a dead body, he was a suspect. Commissioner Bang and his henchmen, how Yoongi liked to call them, had asked him questions all day long and he was getting tired and agitated. They didn’t have tea at the police station and the coffee tasted stale and too bitter. Somebody had probably spat in it, too. So Yoongi rather opted for his almost empty pack of Lotte’s Freshmint Chewing Gum and blew bubbles lazily. “Can you not do that in here? I’ve already told you the last three times.” “Well it’s not like I’m smoking or anything, besides it’s not my fault that your coffee tastes like cow piss.” That made the deputy sitting across from him sigh tiredly, but at least he didn’t bother Yoongi about it anymore. “Can I go now? I told you that I only found him because of my dog but you’ve been asking me the same questions over and over again for the last four hours. I’m tired, hungry and I need a piss.”

Suddenly Commissioner Bang walked into the room. “Kid, you can go. (“Fucking finally”) You come with me, Deputy Kim. I need to show you something.” As soon as Commissioner Bang had said that, Yoongi jumped up and exited the room. He couldn’t wait to get back home. Deputy Kim sighed tiredly — he did that way too much these days — and got up to follow Commissioner Bang. The older man lead him through a wooden door with a small window in it, down a staircase and through a metal door into the police station’s morgue. Deputy Kim shivered. It was cold down there and he had never quite liked the athmosphere, death flowing through the air like molecules of oxygen and the smell of strong antiseptic stung slightly in his nose. Kim Yooran looked at her husband’s distasteful expression and shook her head. She had been the town’s pathologist for only a few years, but she had already made a name for herself. Strong minded, intelligent and witty. She had it considerably harder than her male colleagues, after all she was a working woman in the 60s. But that never bothered her, it just fuelled the fire in her eyes and made her even more determined. Her husband, Deputy Kim Iljoon, was her complete opposite. He was softspoken and always had a nowadays somewhat tired smile on his face. He started working as deputy because he wanted to protect and help. Kim Yooran’s and Kim Iljoon’s biggest pride weren’t their jobs though. It was their nineteen year old son Kim Namjoon.

The boy was the perfect mixture of his parents. He had his mother’s sharp intellect and witty speech and his father’s kind heart and big smile that was blazoned with deep dimples. He was a very handsome boy and a well-known and adored face in the community of Beullaeghol. Namjoon had graduated from the town’s high school the past summer and was now taking a year off to find out what he wanted to do with his future. He always carried at least three books around with him, one about nature, one about languages and some novel that he would indulge in whenever he felt the need to. Lately Namjoon was often seen around the woods, glasses perched ridiculously high on his nose as he skimmed through different maps and tectonical descriptions of the area. Nobody questioned it, considering the circumstances. Just like his friends, Namjoon was searching for Jungkook.

“-puty Kim. Iljoon!” “Ah-yes yes, sorry.” Commissioner Bang shook his head at the deputy and cleared his throat. “Please tell us some good news, Dr. Kim.” The woman’s eyes flickered to her husband for a mere second, then she straightened her light green surgical gown and turned to the covered body on the table. She lifted the white sheet up and exposed the corpse down to his waist, his feet were sticking out at the end. “Looking at the already gone rigor mortis he must have died about four to seven days ago. His body is very well preserved so he wasn’t buried for a long time, three days at best. He doesn’t have any major outer injuries except the second and third degree burns on his eyes, nose and cheeks.” Her white gloves gently turned the boy’s head to the right and left as she spoke, to show the two men. “Also, I’ve found something quite odd. The boy’s cause of death was the same thing that killed those sheep. His tympanum is completely shredded on both sides. Normally the ear connects to the brain stem through the cranial nerve. Here you can see”, she turns the boy’s head to the left, showing the two men an almost gaping hole in the side of his head, “that both his cranial nerve and parts of his brain stem are completely destroyed. I’ve never seen anything like this and I can’t explain it. It looks like he stood right next to the explosion of a nuclear bomb, on Saturn. That’s how loud the noise and how high the pressure must have been to do such intense damage.”

Deputy Kim glanced at his wife, then at Commissioner Bang. The older man seemed deep in thought but shook his head after a few seconds and looked up. “Anything else?” “He didn’t wear shoes when he was found, right? There are a few cloth particles under his toenails, so he definitely wore shoes or at least socks shortly before he died. But the state that the soles of his feet are in say that he must have run through the woods barefoot for some time. There are some minor cuts and bruises on them. Oh and I wasn’t lucky with the boy’s identity, the DNA samples I took are not in the database and his face is almost unrecognisable. I think he wa-“ “Wait, what? I’m sorry for interrupting you, but that’s Kwon Soonyoung, right? The boy that went missing on the 25th of January?” “No Commissioner, he isn’t. Kwon Soonyoung wore braces when he went missing, however, this boy”, she opened his mouth to reveal straight, white teeth, “doesn’t.” Dr. Kim then lifted up the white sheet and showed the two men the dead boy’s left knee. “As you can see there are no scars whatsoever, right? Kwon Soonyoung had a bicycle accident when he was nine, he has several surgical scars on his knee because he smashed his kneecap and had eight surgeries to repair it.”

“But the only children that were reported missing were Kwon Soonyoung, Choi Youngjae and Jeon Jungkook. It’s not Kwon Soonyoung, it can’t be Choi Youngjae because we already found him and it’s not Jeon Jungkook either. He has very slight protruding front teeth and he wore completely different things when he went missing.” Deputy Kim said and Dr. Kim added: “Also, the DNA samples don’t match.” Commissioner Bang sighed and left the morgue with a mumbled: “I gotta check something.”

A heavy silence fell over the couple as they both looked at the dead boy. The poor thing looked so out of place in this of antiseptic reeking, cold room. The lights made him look even paler, younger. Dr. Kim went over to the boy’s head. She stroked his cheek gently and caressed his dark messy hair with her gloved fingers. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m sorry that you had to suffer so much, I’m sorry that we don’t even know who you are. I’m sorry that nobody protected you. You must’ve been so scared, so alone. You didn’t even wear a jacket, it was cold outside, wasn’t it?” She took his hand and regarded the boy with deep sadness, gently stroking over his knuckles. Iljoon looked at her and he understood. She didn’t only mourn the cruel death of this poor boy, she mourned the loss of the connection between mother and child, something more powerful than anyone could imagine. It didn’t matter that this boy wasn’t her child, in this moment, he was. The need to comfort him, to protect him, to cradle him against her chest and soothe his cries was overwhelming. It didn’t matter that Kim Yooran wasn’t his mother, she was a mother nonetheless.

Iljoon embraced her gently, his hand caressing the back of her head as she breathed in deeply. He pretended not to feel the wetness against his neck, pretended not to feel his own eyes well up. Their jobs had always been hard for the both of them, but this was a heartbreaking truth. It was always the worst when it involved children.

“Yooran, let’s call Namjoonie. Just to hear his voice, okay?”

——-

Author’s note: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I also wanted to thank you for the support I was getting for the first chapter, you guys are great! The third chapter will come out next weekend, so stay tuned! I hope you’re all having a nice weekend!

[yourjughead]

Medic

Pairings: ReaderxSweetPea

Warnings: Hinted at violence, mentions of blood, fluff, angst.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this lil not so lil fic, American Beauty//American Psycho will go up during the week. Let me know what you think my loves!

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“Woah what happened you?”

“Fucking Ghoulie” Sweet Pea stomped inside your trailer and threw himself down on the couch. Eye bruising, head cut and lip swelling slightly. He was a sight to behold.

“Aww poor baby” you teased and he glared.

“Just fix it, that's your job isn't it?”

“I'm the gang medic not the gang slave” you shot back.

You kneeled on the couch in order to look properly at the cut on his head starting in his jet black hair.

“Wow Ynn on your knees for me? You tease”

“Careful Sweet Pea or your eyes will be a matching set” you played back. Always the same flirtatious exchanges that never mounted to anything.

Still on your knees you leaned further in, tilting his head down to reach the very start of the cut before starting to clean it out.

“You know you're basically forcing my head into your chest right now yeah?”

“Are we complaining?” you dabbed an especially large amount of antiseptic on his head and he let out a hiss.

“Nope, never” he gripped your hips harshly and seemed to channel his pain into them, you didn't really feel it at all.

“You're crossing the line of doctor patient relationship SP” you put the steristrips on the cut and covered most of them with his hair to hide them before moving into the eye.

“Shame” he smirked. You sat back so you were cross-legged, pulling Sweet Pea closer to inspect his eye.

“This was just an excuse so you could spend the night looking deep in my eyes wasn't it” he grins at you and you flash a small beaming bright light into his eyes.

“Argh!”

“Yup your pupils dilated fine there” you laughing as he shoves you backwards before hovering over the length of your body. He shifts to prop himself up, still holding himself over you.

“No need to patch up the black eye now that I'm blind”

“You're right, we should fix your lip though” you half catch him by the chin and drag him down closely, him willingly going. Your faces were mere millimeters away. He slowly closed his eyes but quickly you grab a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic and press it to his lip as he half howls in the pain of the burn and the surprise.

“You bitch!” He shoots up kneeling, leg either side of you as he pats dry his lip.

“That's an odd way to say thank you” you smirk and he begins tickling you mercilessly as you were caught halfway between screaming and laughing.

“Okay truce truce truce!” He finally stopped as you began to turn slightly purple. You were regaining your strength as you both stared at each other sweetly, him still kneeling above you. His phone buzzing to life broke you both from your trance.

“Hello-Yeah-Yeah-Really?-FPs son?-yeah-Emm not I'm really busy-” he glanced at you apologetically and you bit your lip, averting your gaze “-okay-okay-Ill be right there-yeah-talk to you later”

“Business?”

“Yeah?”

“Will I have a bunch of you to stitch up later orrrr”

“No-” he laughed again “FP was busted for that murder thing on the Northside, typical that we get  the blame. But anyway he didn't name names with the drug's side of it so it's time to follow the rules and start looking after FP jr, going over there now with the gang to let him know” he reluctantly got off the couch and fixed his jacket and collar in the mirror. Sweet Pea was fiercely loyal, especially to the Serpents. They had given him everything when his world was taken from him a few years ago. No one knew what that meant to him like you did. You were best friends ever since. You stood and behind him, helping to fix his collar.

“FP jr...oh waits he's kinda hot, I wonder if he's single?” you half whispered behind him, knowing it was driving him mental.

Suddenly Sweet Pea turned, grabbed onto you before turning again, half slamming you into the wall on which the mirror hung. You let out a slight sexually charged whimper at the sudden control he was taking and he smirked. Damn it you thought. He was inches from your face once again.

“Yeah, I thought so” he winked before releasing you, reveling in the little victory you just granted him while you cursed yourself.

“Maybe I should give him a phone call” you called after Sweet Pea as he went for the door.

“It'll be the last phone call he ever gets” Sweet Pea half slammed the trailer door. He won the battle but you won that war.

~

Over the next few weeks you were introduced to Jughead and his subsequent Northside world. You found yourself falling slowly for the idea of the Northside, a place free from direct negative association. With the more time you spent in the north, the less you spent in the South and with Toni and Sweet Pea. It had not gone unnoticed, especially by Sweet Pea. He had wanted to like Jughead but your intense interest in him and his world had completely put him off, along with Jugheads initial reluctance to embrace all things Southside.

The rain hit off your tin roof viciously, it was nights like these you spent curled in your trailer often before chaos of a fight would ensue and your trailer would be full of casualties for you to repair. Tonight was no different.

“I mean god forbid you fight when it's dry and sunny and Toy Story isn't on the TV for fuck sake” you finished bonding together Fangs Fogarty’ check gnash with the medical glue, the enduring your rambles. You moved your way along the string of Serpents, repairing each as they told of their fight with the Northsiders before being interrupted by a “psycho girl with a gun”.

“Wait...where's Sweet Pea?!” You searched around the room when you got to the end of the line and they began filtering out.

“He's still with the police, he's been in and out with them for for past month more than any of us so they kept him in longer” Fangs replied as the gang began to move on and out

“wait why so much?”

“All petty crimes, don't worry, it's only your fault” Rocky jeered before exiting.

“Wait what” you caught Fangs shoulder before he could slip out too.

“Well I mean you're not around to rein him in lately so he's bound to go off to his own devices to distract him”

“What do you mean I'm not around?!”

“Gotta ask yourself that question Northsider” Johnny scoffed before you pinned him to the door frame of the trailer with your forearm.

“What was that Johnny?” You bit.

“Noth-nothing yn sorry...thanks for realigning my wrist…”

“That's what I thought” you jostled him back and he half fell out the door down the steps, Fangs laughing at him before he met your glare and stopped.

You began cleaning up the trailer and changing into your PJs before sitting and waiting for Sweet Pea to come with his own injuries. He didn't. You spent the whole night sitting, looking at the door and waiting for your jet black haired friend to come in giving out about something or other. He didn't. You eventually drifted off into a nightmare fueled sleep.

You woke in a cold sweat thinking of all the things that could have happened to him during the fight, during being in the holding in the prison, on the walk home, in his own trailer. The thoughts were eating you alive. 5.30am gleamed on the clock, he had to be home by now.

Dressed in your pj top, shorts and slippers you grabbed a dressing gown and threw it on before dashing across the trailer park to where Sweet Pea lived alone. You banged harshly on the door, fear and cold getting to you.

“Jesus Christ what?!?! Are you trying to wake the whole park?!?!” He half shouted, squinting and groggy. You just dove at him, arms wrapping tightly around his tall build.

“Woah what who died?” You didn't answer and just held him slightly tighter.

“Okay seriously ynn who is dead?! Is it Hot Dog?! Oh please don't say it's Hot Dog!! Say it's Fogarty before saying it's Hot Dog! ” He pulled you inside his disgruntled trailer.

“I thought you died you big jerk! Why didn't you let me know you were okay!?” You went from hugging his chest to hitting his chest.

“Thought you'd be busy checking if your new Northsider boyfriend was okay, didn't want to bother you with my Southside problems” you broke from him and looked extremely confused.

“Don't give me that ynn, we all know it's what you want. A nice, happy, safe home, away from all this Serpent crap, it's why you're the medic now and stopped working jobs with me, don't lie to me”

“Firstly I HAD to stop working jobs, I was the only one my mom had trained in her trade before she died so I didn't have a choice there, secondly I wouldn't dream of leaving my Serpent family, there crap is my crap and thirdly I can have a nice, happy, mostly safe home in the Serpent's, it's what I have!”

“IT'S NOT THE SAME! YOU WANT TO LEAVE! I KNOW YOU DO! YOU SHOULD JUST LEAVE ALREADY AND STOP PROLONGING THE INEVITABLE AND JUST LEAVE! YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THE SERPENTS! You deserve better than me” his true feelings came to light once more, the eternal and never ending fear of being abandoned again. Your anger drained from you then.

“Sweet Pea I could never ever leave you, I could never ever leave the Serpents. You're more deserving of love then you realise and Sweet Pea-” you took his face in your hands to force him to look down into your eyes. He placed his own hands over yours to hold them there.

“-I love you” your hands on his cheeks went around his neck and you pulled him down to meet your lips. His hands went to your sides. You broke apart and just held each other for a moment, your head buried in his chest and his resting on the top of your head.

“I lo-" it was like his tongue was completely tied in itself and you could see him curse himself. He wasn't used to hearing it, wasn't used to saying it and wasn't use to feeling it.

"its okay" you said into his chest.

"i love you too” he whispered against your hair.

“I'll make sure you have a nice, happy, always safe home ynn, I won't let anyone hurt you”

“You'll never be alone as long as I'm around Sweet Pea, I'll keep you safe from your own thoughts” you kissed again.

“I love you, you giant goof but if you ever scare me like that again, you're going to need to go to a regional hospital” you winked.

“Ive got all I need in the medic that you are” he kissed you sweetly then again

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Much love Xx

Tags: @sunshine51879 @deanilostmyshoe

@goshdarnitthatsalongname @svenjafangirlt

[strangedreamings]

Steve/Darcy - It's the middle of summer, so Person A jumps into the nearest pool fully clothed, cue Person B sighing as they lend Person A a second set of their clothes.

All Wet

Darcy Lewis rolled her eyes as she read the flyer that hadbeen shoved under her front door. OFCOURSE Captain America’s birthday is July 4th. What else would itbe? Still, she was embarrassed that she’d never thought to ask the man whohad fast become her best friend when his birthday was.

When Jane was invitedto move her lab to Avengers Tower, she insisted that Darcy come with her.Everyone made Darcy feel welcome, but Steve went out of his way to make herfeel at home. He helped her move her stuff into her apartment in the tower theneven helped her decorate. When she asked about local businesses, he showed herhis favorite coffee shop, restaurants, and dry cleaner’s.

What touched her mostwas when she was hit by a sudden wave of homesickness. Not for her parents’house in Denver, that had never felt like home, but for the cluttered trailershe’d left behind in New Mexico. Helping Jane and Erik in any way she could,and trying not to duck each time a scientific term flew over her head, was themost fun she’d ever had, though she’d complained the whole time.

When Steve found hermoping, he insisted on taking her to Prospect Park Zoo and they spent the dayhaving the time of their lives. The animals’ antics had them cracking up but itwas seeing Steve with the children swarming to have their pictures taken withCaptain America that had her heart soaring. He laughed with the kids, he talkedto them on their level, and he made each of them feel special.

It was then that Darcyrealized she was falling hard and fast for this man.

She left the flyer announcing the birthday pool party on herkitchen counter, rolling her eyes again. I’msure Tony just wants to see all the women here in bikinis. Well, he’s gonnahave to live with disappointment in my case. The real question is, what thehell do I get Steve for his birthday?

After racking her brain for a week, she settled on a gift cardto his favorite art supply store and a dozen of her Triple Chocolate Cookies,which Steve had declared to be his number one favorite the first time he triedthem.

The day of the party turned out to be the hottest day of theyear so far. Thankfully, the roof of the tower had plenty of shade due to averitable forest of patio umbrellas and a good breeze kept the humidity frombeing overpowering. The rooftop was full of the Avengers and their loved ones, rockmusic was blaring … and Darcy was struck by a sudden urge to turn around and goback down to her apartment. She was never comfortable at big parties andpreferred to hang out with just a handful of friends.

Buck up, she toldherself. It’s Steve’s big day, you owe itto him to enjoy yourself and make him feel special. Squaring her shoulders,Darcy put her present and card on the table with the others then went lookingfor the birthday boy. She found him at the grill, enjoying a beer and laughingwith Sam while he cooked the burgers.

“Hi, guys,” Darcy said, smiling.

Sam grinned. “Hey, Darcy. Are your ears ringing? This guy,”he inclined his head towards Steve as he grilled, “has been talking about younonstop.”

“Is that so?” she asked Steve, grinning.

“Ignore him,” Steve muttered. His face was faintly pink butDarcy assumed that was from too much sun. He bent to kiss her cheek. “Thanksfor coming, Darce.”

Her heart did a flip when his lips touched her skin but shekept her cool. “Like I’d miss your big day. So, how old are you now? 200? 300?”

Steve, used to Darcy’s gentle ribbing, rolled his eyes.“Very funny.”

Darcy grinned cheekily. “I thought so.”

Sam’s snickering made it clear he thought so too.

Gently taking her elbow, Steve steered Darcy away from Sam,who continued to grin at them, and over to the refreshment table. “Can I getyou a drink?” he asked.

“A Coke would be great,” Darcy said as she grabbed a paperplate and started filling it. She felt Steve’s eyes on her and couldn’t help ashiver. Is he checking me out? No, no,he’s probably wondering why I’m in jeans and a tank top at a pool party insteadof a swimsuit.

“Did you bring your suit?” he asked as he handed her thebottle.

“Don’t have one.” She waved a hand to indicate her figure.“It’s impossible to find a one-piece that covers me enough or a bikini topthat’s supportive enough.”

Steve’s face turned bright red. “Um, right. So, no pool foryou?”

“You got it, Big Guy.”

He led the way to an open table then they both sat down.Darcy kept glancing at Steve as she ate, mentally kicking herself. He’s not sunburnt, he’s blushing. Poor guyjust wanted a simple “yes” or “no” and I offended his 1940s sensibilities talkingabout my endless hunt for a decent swimsuit. Ugh…

Every time Steve tried to talk to Darcy, one of the otherswould come over and wish him a happy birthday. Darcy didn’t think much of it (it’s not like we don’t talk every day)until she realized that Bucky and/or Sam kept coming over repeatedly to talk toSteve about some stupid thing or other.

Steve must have noticed it too. “Excuse me, Darcy,” he saidas he got up. “I need to set the record straight.”

“Um, sure.”

He shot her a grateful grin, which made her thankful she wassitting down since it made her knees week, then he went off in the direction ofhis buddies. As soon as he was gone, Nat came over and sat down in his chair,taking a sip of her bottled water.

Darcy eyed her warily. Natasha didn’t do small talk. If shehad something to say, she got right to the point.

“Um, hi, Nat.”

“So, you and Steve,” the assassin said, smiling a bit. “Ialways knew he’d lose his heart again, I just didn’t think it would be to-”

“Jane’s lab monkey?” she cut in.

Nat raised an eyebrow, amused. “I was going to say acivilian.”

“Oh. Well, your intel’s faulty anyway – Steve and I are justfriends.”

“Uh huh. Steve doesn’t look at his ‘friends’ the way helooks at you when you don’t notice.”

Could Nat be right?Darcy shook her head. “No, you’re … you’re ‘misinterpreting the data.’” Shementally high-fived herself for using one of Jane’s phrases.

“Is that so? Whenever Steve’s not around and one of us wantsto find him, we don’t bother asking Friday where he is anymore since the answeris always ‘in Ms. Lewis’ apartment.’”

Darcy suddenly felt her face get very warm. Did somebody turn up the sun? “Um, we’renot doing the nasty or anything. I just like to bake and Steve’s got thebiggest sweet tooth. Plus we have movie nights so he can catch up everythinghe’s missed.”

“Is there something wrong with dating Steve?”

“God, no. I just…” Iknow I’m not his type. She looked over and saw Steve coming back to them,scowling in annoyance. Darcy felt even warmer then quickly stood up. “I’m goingto take a dip in the pool.”

“Fully clothed?” Nat asked, smiling.

“Tony always says he allows anything in the pool exceptbirthday suits.” She kicked off her sandals and took out the plastic clip thatwas holding up her long hair. Just as Steve reached their table, she ran overto the pool and jumped into the deep end.

Not the brightestthing I ever did, Darcy thought later as she shivered in her chair. Thewater felt great while she was in the pool, but it didn’t take long for theformerly pleasant breeze to feel like an arctic chill against her skin once shegot out. Without a change of clothes or even a towel, she’d had no choice butto wait for her clothes and hair to dry.

Adding to her misery, Steve had disappeared just after she’dgotten out of the pool. It was getting dark, she still was still soaked, andshe was seriously considering just going home when a pile of clothes was placedin front of her. Darcy looked up to see Steve giving her one of hisheart-melting smiles.

“Can’t have you miserable at my party,” he explained. “Gochange in the penthouse, the fireworks are about to start.”

“Thanks!” She stood and picked up the t-shirt and shorts,belatedly realizing they weren’t hers. “Um, Steve?”

He smiled sheepishly. “My place was closer. They’ll fit.”His eyes drifted to her chest then he quickly dragged them back up to her face,blushing again. “Probably.”

“Um, right.” After a quick change in the penthouse bathroom,Darcy went back to the roof and saw Steve having an intense discussion withNat. Not wanting to interrupt, she wandered over to where Jane was patientlyexplaining Independence Day to Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three.

“Greetings, Darcy,” Thor said, beaming. “Jane was justtelling us of how your country celebrates its liberty with colorfulexplosions.”

“Something like that, yeah,” Darcy said with a smile,feeling her mood lighten as it always did when she was around Jane’s fiancé.

“I quite like the grilled canines,” Volstagg said happilyaround a mouthful of hot dog.

Fandral groaned quietly. “Please excuse his utter lack oftable manners, Lady Darcy.”

Darcy giggled. “It’s okay, I’ve seen worse. And they’re notmade with real dogs, ‘hot dog’ is just what they’re called.”

The rock music abruptly stopped then Tony loudly asked foreveryone’s attention. “Pepper and I would like to thank everyone for coming outto celebrate Capsicle’s 100th. I don’t want to rush things but youknow old people, they go to bed early, so without further ado…” He signaled tothe professionals he’d hired to provide the fireworks and the first fireworkshot into the sky.

Darcy jumped as strong arms wrapped around her from behindjust as the firework burst into a shower of gold sparks.

“Easy,” Steve murmured in her ear.

She turned her head to look at him incredulously. “Steve,what-”

“My friends pointed out that while I’m great at battlefieldstrategizing, I’m terrible at something as simple as telling the woman I’m inlove with how I feel.”

Darcy turned around to face him, feeling like her jaw was inthe sub-basement. “You … you love me?”

“Completely, utterly, stupidly … I could go on,” he said,grinning. “And, unless those same friends are wrong, you feel the same way.”

Darcy’s cheeks hurt, she was grinning so widely. “They’renot wrong.”

Then he kissed her and Darcy knew the fireworks in the skywouldn’t be the only ones she’d experience that night.

AO3

[travelingtheusa]

TENNESSEE

2021 Apr 12 (Mon) – We ran a bunch of errands today.  We had to get fuel for the truck and pet food. PetCo did not have Sheba’s food so we stopped at The Fresh Market to get her food and some food items for us.  The store turned out to be small and didn’t have everything we wanted.  So, we had to stop at Kroger to get cat food and the rest of the food we wanted. Lunch was at the Blue Plate Café. I thought the pot roast was chewy but Paul enjoyed the meal.  When we returned to the campground, Paul finished up the wallpaper in the bedroom. It looks very good.  Now I need a different covering on the window treatment. And, so, it starts.  Lol.

Before:

After:

2021 Apr 11 (Sun) – We watched church services on Facebook. Afterward, we drove to Camping World to return a part Paul was not able to use in setting up the cell phone booster. We drove around trying to find a place to have lunch but we couldn’t find any place open and wound up just returning to the campground.  Paul got to work tearing off the old wallpaper in the bedroom and putting up the new paper.  It’s looking good.

2021 Apr 10 (Sat) – Bonnie is doing better.  The galliprant seems to be working for her.  She is still weak on her right side but she’s hardly limping.  We just have to be careful not to get her off balance and make sure she goes slowly up and down the stairs.  Old age sucks – for dogs as well as humans.

     A fierce thunderstorm rolled through early this morning.  We had storms last night from about 8 to 11 p.m. accompanied by the usual tornado warnings.  The storm this morning was so strong that one lightning boom literally lifted me out of the bed.  When the lightning flashed, you could see it through your closed lids.  Sheba must have been going crazy!

     My sister, Susan, is having surgery on her knee and asked if I could come stay for a week or two to help her out.  So I called my cancer doctor to reschedule my PET scan.  I was going to go home May 1 to May 12.  Now it looks like I’ll be flying back on May 16 and staying through Memorial Day.  Susan’s surgery is set for May 17.

     We got aggravated with not being able to get online to check out campsites.  We decided to buy a cell booster and drove to Camping World in Olive Branch in Mississippi (just across the border) to buy a King cell phone booster antenna.  It was $499!  Ugh.  We also picked up two camp chairs since ours are starting to fall apart.  

     Lunch was going to be at the Brass Door Irish Pub in Memphis.  After paying for 3 hours parking in Memphis, we walked a couple of blocks to the restaurant only to find it has been closed for the last year.  We then walked back toward the truck and stopped to eat at the Blue Plate Café Downtown. That was closed indefinitely. Next door was the River Time Café. It was a tiny deli but had a robust menu.  We both got sandwiches with potato salad.  We had to sit outside at one of two tables.  The proprietor said she was not allowed to have people in her shop.  While sitting outside waiting for her to bring out our meal (it’s down south and the wait was very long), an older man came stumbling by and started talking to us.  He was very difficult to understand but we understood that he was drunk and had come to get something to eat to soak the booze up.  At first, I thought he was going to panhandle but he just wanted to talk.  Then he went into the café and picked up his pre-ordered meal.  Finally, our sandwiches came out.  They were delicious.  The owner also gave us a free banana nut muffin because we waited patiently for so long.  That was nice.

 2021 Apr 9 (Fri) – We drove to the vet this morning to drop Bonnie off.  She is getting a test today to see if she has Cushings Disease.  She has had increased thirst, difficulty walking with a weakness on her right side (especially the back leg), and it seems like she has to pee more often.  Could be age related.  It might not. They will give her a shot of cortisol and check her blood at 8 a.m., noon, and 4 p.m.  If she makes more cortisol then she’s got the disease.  If she doesn’t make more cortisol, then she doesn’t have Cushings.  We have our fingers crossed.

     After dropping her off (we had to wait outside for someone to come get her – they’re not letting anyone inside), we went to the Blue Plate Café for breakfast.  It was a cute little place, bright and inviting.  The food was very good, too.  

     Next stop was at Lowe’s.  Paul peeled the wall covering off in the bedroom.  It’s been coming off almost from the day we bought the camper. Now we are looking for a new wallpaper. We found a pattern we like.  We’ll see how it looks.

     We made a quick stop at the Fresh Market.  I am out of Vitamin C and looking for more.  We thought it was a health food type store but it was just a regular supermarket.  I picked up a few items but no vitamins.

     When we got back to the campground, we drove over to the Chucalissa Village in the park.  It is an area where Choctaw tribes lived there hundreds of years ago.  There is a mound and a replica house built on the site. A small museum tells the story of the area, both of the park itself and of the inhabitants who lived here.  The old site was actually discovered by CCC workers who were building a pool for the first all Negro park in the state. It is now run by the University of Memphis.

     At 4:45 p.m. we drove back into town to get Bonnie.  The vet came out to talk to us.  She said the test was negative.  Bonnie does not have Cushings Disease.  She couldn’t see any reason for her leg problems and surmised that it is arthritis.  She told us to continue with the Galliprant and bring her back if things get worse.

     We found something very fascinating.  It is a Smart Mart.  It’s like a new version of the automat.  You pull up, touch a screen, shop for different grocery items, pay and your items are given to you in a big drawer.  There was a delivery truck there filling up the mart when we stopped.

 2021 Apr 8 (Thu) – We wanted to go to the Cotton Museum but it was closed due to the pandemic.  We then drove to the National Ornamental Metal Museum.  Although their website said they opened at 10 a.m., they were closed with a sign out front saying they open at 11 a.m.  So we drove around Memphis for an hour.  Saw Beale Street (Home of the Blues) in its quiet state; i.e. with no partymakers at night.  Paul says they are trying to be like New Orleans.  I don’t think so.  New Orleans is different.  It is the place for jazz music.  Memphis is blues music.  The city is confusing with lots of closed off streets for renovations or construction. As you get further outside the city, the buildings are old, dilapidated, spray painted with graffiti.  Many homes have bars on the windows and doors.

     We tried to go to the Mississippi River Museum but it wasn’t where Trip Advisor said it should be.  We stopped at the Visitors Center and were told they moved the museum to Mud Island and it has been closed for the past year and a half.  We went back to the Metal Museum and they were open. The most delightful part of the tour was the exhibit by international artists.  They took a 155mm steel bar and made all kinds of things from it.  It was fascinating to see how imaginative people can be.

     After the Metal Museum, we drove to the post office and dropped off all the envelopes we prepared.  Then we went to the Bass Pro Shops Giant Pyramid for lunch at Uncle Bucks Restaurant. They have rooms up on the second and third level.  So the store is also a hotel.  Paul bought a flannel shirt.  We looked for new camp chairs but couldn’t find what we wanted.

     On the way back to the campground, we stopped at Kroger Supermarket and picked up some groceries.  The camp host told us that the campground will be full this weekend. Although many RVs have come in, it is not full.  Either he can’t count or some of the campsites are not usable.  Whatever.

2021 Apr 7 (Wed) – We spent the day working on the mass mailing for SMART.  There were 32 duplicate addresses and 32 companies that did not have envelopes.  I typed labels for the missing companies and stuck them over the duplicate addresses.  Saved a lot of work (Paul’s suggestion).  We finished folding the letters, inserting them in the envelopes, and putting the return address labels and stamps on all the envelopes.  We just have to deliver them to the post office.

     The vet called this morning.  Bonnie’s liver enzymes are high.  She thinks Bonnie might have Cushings Disease.  We will drop her off at the vet on Friday so they can do some tests. In the meantime, Bonnie is having a very difficult time walking.  She fights getting up if she doesn’t have to.  We have resorted to using the special stairs we bought for our last dog to help her get in and out of the trailer easier.  It seems to be helping Bonnie.

      We packed up the trailer today and Paul drove over to the dump station to empty the tanks. I sat at the campsite with Bonnie because she was in too bad shape.  It took him 20 minutes then he was back and we got all hooked up again.  Good for another week.

 2021 Apr 6 (Tue) – We took Bonnie to the vet this morning.  We had to sit outside while they took her inside. The vet called on the phone and we talked about Bonnie’s history and issues.  She didn’t find anything obvious wrong with her foot.  Thinks it might be arthritis.  She took blood and will call us tomorrow.

      We left the vet and went looking for a fast food place for lunch. We stopped at a Burger King. There were six cars on line in front of us but were still on line for over half an hour.  It was the slowest fast food joint I’ve ever been to!  The junior whoppers were small and the fries were not even warm.  At least Bonnie enjoyed her burger.

     We went back to Office Depot to pick up the copies.  The service – again! – was so damn slow.  When the clerk finally waited on me, she asked if I had gotten an email saying the project was ready.  I replied that it was agreed upon yesterday that I would be back today.  With a sigh, she went to search on the shelves.  After about 5 minutes, she found my print job.

     When we got back to the campground, Bonnie’s back leg was giving out on her.  She could barely walk and kept sitting down and refusing to move any further.  I called the vet to ask if she had examined Bonnie’s other legs or just her hurt foot.  After some discussion, the vet said we’d wait to see what the bloodwork shows. The results should be back tomorrow.

     I took the mailing list I got from the Muster Master (who got it from the Chamber of Commerce in Shawnee, Oklahoma) and struggled through printing 360 envelopes.  Our printer is not a high capacity printer.  It took me hours to get them all printed.  The program kept shutting down and I would have to restart it.  In the meantime, Paul started folding the letters to insert in the envelopes.

 2021 Apr 5 (Mon) – The cell service at this campground is sooooo bad!  Even my phone isn’t working right and often drops to 3G with one bar.  It drops calls like crazy.  Getting on anything beyond standard email with the laptop is almost impossible.  Twelve days of this will be maddening.

     We drove to CVS to get Paul’s first COVID-19 shot.  On the way, we got an email saying his appointment had been cancelled.  We decided to just go in anyway and play dumb.  It worked.  Old people and technology is a recognized disability.  Lol.

     After the drugstore, we drove to Olive Garden to get lunch.  It appeared that they were repairing fire damage. Nothing to eat there.  We then tried another restaurant but it looked too high class.  We stopped at Seasons 52 Grill, which looked moderate from the outside but once we got inside – va, va, va, voom!  Very expensive.  We spent over $100.  Oh, well, what’s money for except to spend?  The lunch was excellent.

     We drove over to the Agricenter to look at the campground.  We will be going there after the rally in Arkansas and wanted to check out the best entry point.  It has a large campground but the spaces are a little too close.  Oh, well. It will be home for Paul when I fly back to New York next month.

      We stopped at Office Depot to drop of letters for copying.  I volunteered to be the Administrative Chairperson for the SMART 2021 National Muster.  One of my jobs is soliciting donations.  So I drafted a letter and attachment, got approval, then brought it to Office Depot to make 365 copies of each one.  I also gave them copies of return address labels to make up.  I don’t if it’s a “down south” thing, but the service was so frickin’ slow.  We were there almost an hour just to drop off the originals.  I said I’d be back tomorrow to pick up the copies.

     Bonnie has been favoring her front, right paw.  She started limping on it yesterday so I called a vet today and made an appointment to bring her in tomorrow.  The paw got worse over the day and now you can see her paw is swollen.  Hope they can figure out what’s wrong and fix it.

 2021 Apr 4 (Sun - Easter) – We managed to dial into the church service this morning.  It’s nice to be able to share the service with our congregation back home.

     I walked around the campground today.  Most the campsites are empty.  A lot of campers left today.  I would have thought they’d stay for the weekend.  Guess I was wrong.  We stayed in today.  Paul repaired the AC and we did the laundry.  It was a very nice day.  The trees are a brilliant green and the buds are in full bloom.  The sky was an incredible blue and the temperature reached the high 60s.  It was a beautiful Easter day.  We got to skype with both Travis and Miranda.  That make the day perfect!

 2021 Apr 3 (Sat) – We wasted 20 minutes this morning trying to get the Sunday service streaming on the iPad before we realized it was Saturday. Lol.  There are not nearly as many RVs in the campground as I thought there would be.  Over half left today.  I have never seen so many tiny trailers in the campground at a time.  There’s a teardrop trailer, an A-Line pyramid shaped camper, a Scottie, a couple of tiny trailers, and several tents.  

     The day was pleasant.  It started out cold in the 40s but warmed to the mid-60s.  The sky was clear and a brilliant blue and there was hardly any wind. There was a terrible odor in the air. At first, we thought it was the smell of campers dumping their tanks but it lingered too long.  There must be a waste plant somewhere nearby.  

 2021 Apr 2 (Fri) – Sure was glad we had that electric blanket on last night!  We are under a freeze warning for a few days.  We drove back down to Southaven, MS to get dog food at Petco and cat food at Kroger.  Picked up some people food, too, while we were at it.  Stopped at Southaven RV Super Center where Paul was able to buy a replacement for a broken part in the AC.  Not that we need AC right now, but (hopefully) soon.  It also operates the heat pump, which we DO need right now.  We have been keeping warm enough with the fireplace, the furnace, and a small electric heater.  On the way back, we spotted a pup up on the side of the highway. We stopped and shooed it away. Down the embankment, the mama dog and two other pups were skittering around.  They were clearly unowned canines.  We were glad we could chase the pup off the roadway and keep it from getting run over.

     We stopped at Memphis BBQ for lunch.  The meal was not that good.  Paul’s pulled pork was bland and my burnt tips were dry.  The restaurant was very busy and service was understandably slow.  

     The day turned out to be nice although the temperature never got out of the 50s.  The skies were clear and deep blue.  We’ve been watching RVs come in all day.  This is a holiday weekend and the campground is going to be full.

 2021 Apr 1 (Thu) – We packed up and left Fulton, MS at 10 a.m. It was 135 miles to Memphis, TN. We are staying in the T.O. Fuller State Park Campground.  There are lots of woods around and plenty to see in Memphis.  The sites have a good amount of space between them.  The roads and campsites are asphalt.  We have electric and water hookups.  We will have to go dump after a week because there is no sewer hookup and we won’t be able to last 12 days without filling the tanks.

     It got real cold last night and we pulled out the electric blanket. Imagine!  Needing the electric blanket down south in April.  We watched the Holy Thursday service from our church streaming on Facebook.  We also facetimed with Paul’s sister, Joan, about our cruise to Australia in January.

[swimmingwolf59]

On a Raven’s Black Wing

(A/N) Yo yo yo, I’m writing a multichapter pynch fic on my AO3 and thought I’d post it here as well! :’) There are references to Adam’s abuse, but nothing that’s worse than canon. Hope you enjoy! 

Adam has seen a lot of strange things working at the Henrietta pet store, but this is the first time a customer’s walked in with a raven.

It’s an excruciatingly slow day. Adam had been up until three in the morning working on college essays, AP history essays, and studying for physics, and he’d already had an early shift at Boyd’s and a full day of classes before he came here. He’s exhausted down to his bones, and it’s hard to even stand upright as the minutes stretch into hours of not a single soul coming into the store. Henrietta is small so the store is hardly busy even on a good day, but it’s been a long time since utterly no one has come in. It’s hard to stay motivated, even if this little hole-in-the-wall pet store is one of his favorite places.

Adam gets along superbly with animals; he probably gets along better with dogs than he’ll ever get along with humans. Dogs had been his only lifetime companions back when he’d still lived at the trailer park, and he’d gone outside often to play with them and avoid his father’s rage for as long as he could. The dogs were always happy to see him, snuffling happily as their tails wagged and wagged, piling over Adam in hopes he’d have food with him. He never did, but they didn’t seem to mind; they just loved getting attention more than anything really, and Adam loved them for it. They never cared that he was poor or that he hadn’t eaten since the day before because his dad spent all of their money on booze or that he went out to greet them with a new bruise or cracked rib. It was the closest Adam had ever come to receiving any kind of love, and he’d cherished it.

Landing the job at the pet store had been easy. After he’d moved out of his parents’ trailer for good and took residence in the small apartment above St. Agnes, he’d met Blue while she was on a dog-walking job. The two had become fast friends, and soon enough Adam was joining her on her dog-walks. Apparently the owner of the pet store, a nice old woman with the ironic name of Mrs. Calico, had noticed Adam and how well he got along with animals on one of the days he was helping Blue, and when he’d by chance called her about her help wanted sign she’d enthusiastically given him the job, no interview required. It had been baffling to Adam at the time, and he felt a little like he didn’t deserve it, but when he walked in on his first day and got along immediately with all of the animals in the store it felt a little bit more like coming home.

He spends hours at the pet store even when he isn’t working, using the space in the back to study or help out Mrs. Calico because he likes to and deep down feels like he still owes her for all of her way too generous help. Mainly, though, he’s there for the animals: their company and unique scents always comfort him in a way that nothing else could. He isn’t necessarily happy, but it’s something.

And though he only receives minimum wage, slowly he’s saving enough to get into a good college and get the hell out of Henrietta.

There are times, though, when the monotony of his life strikes him and he can’t fight the scratchy feeling in his throat that he’s just wasting his time sitting around waiting for something to happen. He tells himself he’s working towards it, that he just needs to be patient, but on days like today it’s hard to be optimistic, even with the animals around.

He’s already cleaned out the ferrets’ and rabbits’ pens, fed the fish and turtles, played with the mice, taught the parrots some new words, and restocked the barn animal supplies, meaning he has nothing else to do but wait around for someone to come in. Usually he spends his time entertaining the lizards, but the sun isn’t low enough for any of them to have exited their slumber yet, so Adam is stuck waiting at the cashier counter.

He’s bored, a little lonely, and badly in need of coffee. It’s hard enough working three jobs (if one counted the occasional dog-walking) and going to his shitty high school all the time even without worrying about staying awake. Usually Blue bounces in at some point with the dogs, painfully reminding him that he doesn’t have as much time for them anymore, to bring him some concoction from 300 Fox Way and chat with him for a while to keep his spirits up, but even she’s strangely absent today.  

Leaning his forearms on the counter, Adam lets his head rest down for a moment. It’s taking all of his energy just to keep his eyes open, and he wonders if it would really be such a bad thing if he just closed his eyes for a little while. No one’s here; it should be fine for just a second…

He doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep when the door to the shop suddenly slams open. Adam jolts, his spine straightening so quickly he feels a muscle in his lower back pull. He fights back the grimace of pain and replaces it with a welcoming smile as the customer walks in. “Welcome! Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

The customer just glares at him, and Adam’s neck flushes bright pink with embarrassment as he tries not to make a face. Did he catch him dozing? He stares back at the customer, his smile wavering as the awkward stand-off stretches on. The weak part of Adam can’t help but notice how strangely beautiful the customer is. If one had to pick an overall adjective to describe him, it’d be sharp – sharp jawbones, sharp mouth, sharp nose, sharp eyes. He’s tall and has a buzz cut that strangely looks good on him, the little hairs still showing suggesting that they were once curly and dark. He’s attractive, in the dark and dangerous sense of the word, and Adam doesn’t know how long they stand there staring at each other (it’s ridiculous – he’s stared at boys before but not for this long) before the boy abruptly juts his chin away and stalks off down the aisle.

It’s only then that Adam notices the raven. It’s a small thing, looking barely old enough to fly as it sits on the customer’s shoulder, burrowing its body into the curve of his neck. Adam stares at the bird, wondering why it doesn’t just fly away; it doesn’t look like its wings are clipped.

Has this customer really already trained such a young bird so well?

Adam realizes he’s still staring, his eyes trailing the customer as he hesitates in front of some fresh hay and alfalfa before heading into the back area of the store where the birdseed is. He tells himself it’s just because this is the only person who has come in all day, and not because he can’t stop staring at the faintest trace of a tattoo curling out from under the customer’s raggedly cut black muscle tank.

The boy’s not even his type – he’s more for the adventurous type like Blue, not someone who looks ready to start a fight at any given second.

Just the thought of that makes him think of his dad and he cringes before finally tearing his gaze from the customer.

At least until he hears the unmistakable sound of a bag ripping and thousands upon thousands of tiny seeds cascading onto the floor. A loud shout quickly adds to the cacophony, “You motherfucking—!”

Adam stands from his stool, exasperated more than alarmed, his service dog Holly also standing from her cushion just behind the cash register, ears perked and alert. Holly’s another example of how well Adam gets along with animals: after he’d lost his hearing in one ear from a particularly hard fall due to one of his dad’s slaps, a neighbor had off-handedly commented that he should look into getting a service dog, the closest anyone in the trailer park had ever come to helping him in some way. He’d debated it for a long time, but eventually decided to get one because people snuck up so often on his deaf side that he would actually get severe anxiety attacks.

So, behind his parents’ backs, he’d looked into it. He’d sent in an application to a local agency, and after painfully dipping into a large chunk of his savings ended up with the sweetest German Shepherd puppy. The trainer had warned him that sometimes it took a while for service dogs and their owners to get accustomed to each other enough to work well, but Adam and Holly had clicked immediately. Training had only lasted five days of Adam going to the facility, too afraid to have them at home, and soon enough Holly was his.

She helps him in several ways, all having to do with his partial deafness and anxiety. She reacts and looks to things that approach or are around Adam, notifying him of something’s presence even if he can’t hear it. Whenever he has bad anxiety, she lies down on his chest and licks at his face until his breathing evens and the worst of the attack is over. She’s also technically trained to find someone who can help him when things take a turn for the worst, but even she realizes that there is no one like that in Adam’s life, besides Blue who didn’t live close enough for it to be practical, and so takes it upon herself to calm him and protect him.

She’s the best thing that has ever happened to Adam, but it made him feel bad when he had to make her sit outside at night, pretending she was just one of the neighbor dogs so his father wouldn’t get enraged and turn his beatings to her, too. He saw her as much as he could and took her with him wherever he went, but he missed her dreadfully at night when he had to nurse his own bruises and anxiety and repeat over and over to himself that everything was fine.

Everything was obviously not fine, as Holly’s very existence was proof of, but she helped him more than he could ever thank her for and now that they live together in their own apartment things are better. He still feels the anxiety grip him when he’s trying to sleep, and he never will be able to hear out of his left ear again, but she and Blue continue to support him and he’s never felt luckier. He feels like he’s able to handle more now, which is a big step up from where he was before.

Though he doesn’t think even the best service dog in the world could help him handle the mess he finds when he and Holly trot over to the back aisle of the store.

The boy from earlier is kneeling on the ground, surrounded by a ginormous pile of birdseed. The bag is still sitting on the second shelf, a giant rip in the bottom continuously raining more and more seeds onto the floor. The customer’s raven is picking at the hole, trying to catch seeds in its beak as the boy grumbles and curses and tries vainly to pick up the giant mess.

It’s obvious enough what happened. For a while Adam just stares, the weariness in his bones intensifying at the thought that he’s going to have to clean that all up. Holly leans forward to sniff at the raven, who caws in warning; Adam draws his dog back with a sharp whistle that also gets the attention of the boy.

He glances up sharply, something akin to embarrassment on his face for a split second before he neutralizes his expression. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered! Dammit, Chainsaw…”

The raven just caws at him before flapping onto his shoulder and picking at a loose thread on his shirt. Adam raises an eyebrow as the customer goes back to cursing and picking up seeds one by one. He so obviously doesn’t have it covered that it’s almost amusing. “It’s not a problem; let me just go grab a broom—”

“I didn’t ask for your help!” the boy snarls before Adam can leave, his eyes narrowed in a seemingly permanent glare. Adam narrows his eyes back.

He doesn’t know what he did, but it’s obvious the customer doesn’t like him. Maybe it’s just the way he looks; the second-hand button up that he’d washed so carefully to remove the dried blood stains, the slacks that are frayed at the bottom if one looked close enough, the shoes that have only seen better days before Adam was even born. He’s not stupid – he’d seen the BMW outside. This customer is an Aglionby boy, a rich boy who likely scoffs and looks down his nose at the likes of Adam. Even if Adam was the kindest person on Earth, which he isn’t, it wouldn’t matter, because no raven boy would ever look past anything but his poverty.

If he wasn’t so angry, he would ponder on the irony that a raven boy has an actual raven. That is apparently named Chainsaw.  

He has to physically bite his tongue to prevent himself from snapping back. He’s always been terrified of his anger, afraid that he’ll someday turn into his father, but more than anything he knows it’s inappropriate for an employee to snap at a customer and he doesn’t want to lose one of the only safe places he has. “I’m sorry, but it’s in my job description to clean up any messes. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t let the boy retort or even make a face at him before he turns around and storms to the back room. He tells Holly to lie down on her cushion so she won’t trouble anyone as he grabs a broom and dustpan, taking one moment to compose himself before heading out again. Unsurprisingly the mess is much how he left it, if not worse because Chainsaw has moved back to pecking at the bag and chewing at more seeds as they fall out. The customer has a pile of seeds in his hands, but he obviously doesn’t know what to do with them as he stares between them and the floor with a complicated look on his face.

“Do you think you could distract your raven with those while I clean this up?” Adam asks as politely as he’s able to as he approaches them again, nodding at the seeds in the boy’s hands. The customer glares at him, looking like he’s about to snap something back, before he just nods tightly and calls Chainsaw over to the pile of seeds in his hands.

While the raven is distracted eating, Adam grabs the mostly empty bag and tosses it into the trash before returning to sweep all the remaining seeds into the dustpan. It doesn’t take as long as he had feared, and by the time he’s done Chainsaw has eaten the remainder of the seeds and has now fluttered over to stare at a cockatoo through the bars of its cage.

The customer is staring attentively at her, as if he’s considering calling her off, and Adam for some dumb reason remembers how attractive he is. Now that he’s closer he can tell that the boy forgot to shave today, the small, coarse hairs more potently defining his sharp jawbones and chin. He has a sort of dark and wild aura to him that makes Adam’s pulse race unexplainably, and he frowns. He doesn’t know why he’s so drawn to this boy, but it bothers him. He should hate him; he’s no doubt the kind of person that throws his money around without a care in the world and laughs in the faces of people like Adam.

And yet the way he’s looking at Chainsaw right now is almost affectionate, gentle in a way that seems so against every prejudice Adam has for this boy.

He can’t figure him out.

He realizes he’s standing there for too long staring when the customer’s sharp gaze lands on him again, and he flushes as he pointedly looks elsewhere. He doesn’t know why he’s getting so worked up – it’s not like he’ll ever see this guy again. He forces himself to look at the boy’s eyes, which are so unbelievably blue that they end up being worse for his heart, and clears his throat.

“Now, are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?” He doesn’t even bother to hide the teasing lilt of his voice.

An implausibly sharp grin etches across the boy’s features and Adam’s heart stutters a little bit. “You know, I’m usually much more competent than this. That damn bird always manages to get the better of me.”

Adam almost smiles before he catches himself and looks around, suddenly noticing a certain bird’s absence. “Where is your raven, anyway?”

“What the—?!” The customer looks around himself wildly before cursing and scrambling to his feet. “Chainsaw, you dumb shit, get back here!”

The only answer they receive is a loud, shrill squawk and Holly’s sharp barking. Eyes narrowing in barely constrained annoyance, Adam rushes back to the front, the customer hot on his heels. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s suddenly irritated at the customer. Why can’t this guy control his damn baby bird, or at least hold onto her after the first disaster? If Holly is in danger in any way there’s definitely going to be a problem.

However, when he rounds the corner he finds the two animals engaged in what looks to be a one-sided game of tug of war. Chainsaw had apparently pecked at the rope of one of Holly’s chew toys and now holds onto it with her beak as Holly, her jaws clamped on the other end of the toy, drags her around the store. The dog’s haunches are lifted, a growl in the back of her throat, but Adam can tell it’s playful as her tail is wagging and she’s almost gently pulling Chainsaw, as if hoping the raven will pull back.

Adam can’t help but laugh – this is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen, even more so than the boy sitting in that pile of birdseed. There’s no way Chainsaw, the young raven that she is, would have any hope of being able to pull against Holly’s strength, and yet they’re both trying hard to win a game that is so obviously in Holly’s favor.

“What the hell…?” the boy mutters disbelievingly under his breath; Adam flinches away, as the customer had come up on his deaf side. He feels immediately embarrassed about it, but if the customer noticed he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he’s walking towards Holly.  

“Hey, mutt!” The words and the shout are aggressive, and for a moment Adam thinks the boy’s going to hurt Holly rather than just calling Chainsaw. He’s about to step in to interfere and protect his dog when the customer surprises him. Getting down on his knees, the boy roughly rubs his hands along Holly’s pelt, the dog immediately dropping the toy as she barks and rolls over in happiness to give him access to her belly. Chainsaw pecks at her hard-won toy as Adam just stares, dumbfounded. This boy looked like he was about to start a fight, not lean down and give rough belly rubs to Adam’s dog.

…He just can’t figure him out.

“…Um?” he says, almost hesitant to interrupt the moment. The boy has a sharp grin on his face that’s making Adam’s insides roll and churn like he’s on a roller coaster. “Did you come in here for anything specific, or…?”

“Hey, don’t rush me okay?!” the boy shouts back, and Adam has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s not like you’re doing anything useful!”

That stings a little bit more than it should and Adam bites back, “I did offer my help—”

“Okay, look!” The customer stands up abruptly and stomps back towards Adam, who steps back habitually.  To his slight annoyance, Holly is ignoring his obvious discomfort, too busy basking in post-belly rub heaven. “I’ll pay for the destroyed bag, or whatever, but I just came in here for some fucking birdseed, so you can help me by grabbing me two bags of it.”

Adam grits his teeth, hating the way the customer addresses him like a servant, but turns to head back down the aisle anyway. He has no choice, after all, as he is the employee, but he wishes that someone so unfairly attractive didn’t have to have such a terrible personality. He seems to treat animals differently, though, which Adam can’t help but feel a kinship towards. He wonders if the customer has an easier time interacting with animals than people like Adam does, and then wonders why he cares.

This raven boy doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, and he certainly doesn’t deserve any sympathy from Adam.

He grabs two unbroken bags of birdseed and hauls them back to the counter where he starts ringing them up plus the spilled bag. The customer had finally gotten his bird under control, Chainsaw tucked contently in the crook of his arm again, and Adam wonders sourly why he didn’t just keep her there in the first place.

The customer tosses his credit card at Adam before he can even tell him the total price, and it irks him. He’s insanely jealous that this boy can just toss around his money without carefully counting every penny and doing the mental math in his head to make sure he can afford it like Adam does.

What he wouldn’t do to have that same kind of luxury.

Adam swipes the card, trying hard to make sure none of his irritation shows on his face. Despite his frustration at the other boy, he casually glimpses at the name on the shiny gray credit card, telling himself that it’s only because he’s curious.

Ronan Lynch.

The name alone stirs a strange fire in Adam’s blood that he ultimately doesn’t know how to address. He wants to say it out loud for no reason, but he doesn’t and instead just wordlessly hands Ronan back his card and receipt. He tries not to think about the way their fingers brush clumsily during the exchange but he does anyway, wondering why Ronan’s hands are so sweaty.

His opinion of this boy is fluctuating so much that Adam has no idea what to think.

“Hey!” Ronan practically shouts suddenly, his voice louder than Adam, who’d been spacing out, had expected.

He flinches; it’s a habit that he’s never quite been able to shake. To his surprise, though, once again Holly barely flicks an ear at the customer’s loud and rowdy behavior. Usually she is the first to snap and growl if someone comes near enough to make Adam uncomfortable, or sneaks up on his deaf side. She’s trained to watch people just as closely as Adam himself does and respond accordingly, all to keep Adam safe and in a calm state of mind.

And yet she doesn’t even raise her head from her paws as Ronan stomps closer, nor had she earlier when Ronan had walked up on his deaf side. She must still be appeased by his rough belly rubs, Adam notes irritatingly.

“…Is there anything else, sir?” Adam puts on his best customer smile, but he honestly thinks Ronan and his raven have caused enough trouble for one day, both on the store and on his mind.

The aforementioned raven flutters onto Ronan’s shoulder, pecking at the loose string on his shirt again. Adam sees a hint of a smile on the boy’s features, astonishingly, but he’s turning his head away to tuck the bags of birdseed under his arms before Adam can tell if that was even real or not. Ronan nods at him sharply, once, before he heads for the door.

“…Thanks.” And then he’s gone, rushing out the same way he rushed in.

Adam lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, reaching out to grab the counter for balance. Now Holly is at his side, whining at him as she leans her body against his legs, stabilizing him. Adam closes his eyes and counts down from ten. However, even that simple task proves difficult.

Ronan Lynch. A boy who had insulted him, yelled at him, and yet smiled fondly at his raven and spoiled Holly, who didn’t see him as a threat as she had every other person who had treated Adam in such a way.

…How very strange.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I would like for you to tell stupid tourist stories? Your story-telling style is very engaging.

First of all, thank you very much!

Since flattery will get you pretty much anywhere, allow me to tell you The Tale Of Jar-Jar.

The First year my family moved to Colorado, my family decided to take the annual summer camping trip to Yellowstone, now that we were on the right side of the rockies for it.  So we pile into the car with all my mom’s immortal camping gear from the 70′s (srsly, I still have the Colemann stove and cooler.  They work perfect)  and Cody,The Gentleman Shepherd.  

Due to Wyoming looking mostly like the ugly parts of Mad Max, we got onto the wrong highway and arrived after dark.  Cody waited patiently in the backseat rather than set up in the rain.  Gentlemanly.

The next morning, Mom is doing something miraculous with the Colemann and there is a breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon.  The sun is shining.  The birds are singing.  All is serene and beautiful. Then the people in the next site pull up.   They arrive in a Brand-spanking new Ford Pickup towing a trailer that looks like it was salvaged of a 50′s atomic test field.  The Husband emerges first and...

I don’t like judging people based on appearance but Man, when a dude walks out of a pickup wearing a confederate flag hat, and half of a mullet one tends to make assumptions.  

The eldest child came out next, a boy of about 12, with a rat-tail.Followed by his brother, a boy of about 10, with a rat-tailFollowed by his brother, a boy of about 8, with a rat-tail.Followed by his brother, a boy of about 6, with a rat-tail.Followed by his brother, a boy of about 4, with a rat-tail.The wife finally emerges, looking like death warmed over and carrying a boy of about two, with a rat-tail.  It is unclear if she has poor posture or if she is pregnant again.  The Boys capable of standing all immediately do so at the border of our site, staring covetously at my bacon.Finally, with a loud plop and wheezing noise, comes thier dog, for a given value of dog.  Pugs are not terribly healthy-looking creatures at the best of times, but this poor thing looked like the canine equivalent of a Hapsburg.  One eye was so bulged as to be permanently wall-eyed, and his jaw jutted out in front of him at a distressingly kapakahi angle. “C’mere Jar-Jar!” hollers the Husband.“Good God.” muttered my father.

The adults proved over the course of the next hour to be loathsome creatures- Husband was constant’y screaming at the boys the “fuckin’ get me the thing, you little-”  then getting mad when asked for clarification on ‘which thing?’.  The Wife was a non-stop stream of complaint- the sun is too hot, the shade is too cold, the tent is too far, the birds are too loud, and everything is awful, I’m going to complain to the ranger.  Eventually they got their camp set up, and Husband cracked his first beer of the day as we finished locking the bear box and leaving to hike.  It was about 10 AM.We return some hours later to a very animated discussion between Wife and the Camp Supervisor about “I have rights you know!” vs. “Ma’am, we are under an extreme fire danger warning, and Fireworks have been banned in the park for ages.”  Jar-Jar, eager to avoid any outbursts, has scuttled under our bear box, wheezing in agitation.  Cody, ever gallant, positions himself between Jar-Jar and his mistress, doing his best impression of a Real Shepherd Who Isn’t Scared of Mice and Snowflakes.  Husband is unseen, but there are several beer cans in the fire grate.That evening’s campfire, normally a time to listen to nocturnal wildlife and the Quiet noises of wild places, is instead a time to listen to drunken racist jokes, a sobbing toddler and Husband screeching “SAY AI WANNIT” whilst dangling scraps in front of jar-jar, until the dog stood on his legs and danced, garbling “Ai-Wa-War”  in a voice that sounded less like a bark and more like late-stage emphysema, before collapsing on what looked like sore joints.Late that night, my parents discuss packing up and looking for a site in Teton down the road over the sounds of half-assed drunken sex.The boys, in spite of their parents, are well mannered, intelligent and engaging to talk to, and seem content to frolic in the woods around the site, examining rocks and plants and the occasional insect.  Dad has a nice time telling them about the Yellowstone supervolcano whilst their parents have vanished to parts unknown.  Jar-jar remains off-lead and un-collared the entire time, huffing and puffing as he tries to keep up.  Still, five boys is perhaps too much attention for an elderly pug, and the too-hard petting and pulling of ears and tail and suchlike is tolerated with an exasperated whine and vacations under our bear-box. The second night, Husband was furious about something, cursing up a storm and throwing things and generally having a tantrum.  The eldest boy said something to him and he bore down on him, hand raised and screaming something about ‘useless pieces of shit.”-When they were interrupted by my mother stepping into their site, all four feet eleven inches of ill-contained fury, staring him down.“I was wondering.”  She said, eyes not moving from him. “If I could borrow some matches.”“Ours got wet.” Dad added, immediately behind her, less as support than restraint.

I remember how ghastly quiet the woods got for a moment there, watching the scene unfold from behind Cody, the only sounds the campfire and crickets.“Uh, yeah.  Matches.”  The Wife muttered, and it was enough to get Husband to back down.

“You have lovely children.”  Dad continued.  “Very smart, very polite.”“You must be so blessed.” My mother adds, only slightly spitting the word.My parents take the matches and talk a bit longer but I couldn’t hear.  Husband gave up, flopping down in his chair, but not before giving Jar-Jar a kick.The next morning, as my family was packing up to head down to Teton instead, The Eldest boy approached us, concerned.“Sir?”  he asked dad.  “Have you seen jar-jar?”We hadn’t actually, his gravely groveling notably absent that morning at breakfast.  My sister and I went on a search with the boys through the camp, but to no avail.  We did find Wife, complaining to the campground host that there were too many wild animals around.  In the National Park.  Saddened and trying to give the boys some hope that perhaps jar-Jar had not been eaten by the coyotes, we left.On the way out the main gate, we ended up behind a Buick with Florida plates, driven by a couple well into their octogenarian period, at about seven miles per hour.  As they stopped at the checkout gate, clearly asking for directions, a dog climbed up to sit in the back window.  A fat, lop-sided, wall-eyed little Pug, looking entirely too pleased with himself.And that’s the story of how Jar-jar escaped the Hell family to Florida.