#I think I remember Tempo being in Texas

[sometimesanalice]

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the two of you have started hooking up, and it’s no secret that Rooster is hung up on you. He takes the gamble and invites you to the yearly Halloween bash at the Hard Deck. The only problem is he can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be. 

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6.2K

Warnings: allusions to smut and Rooster being a simp (but what else is new 😂) (mdni)

The Black Keys’ “Howlin’ for You” playing loudly over the static-y speakers of the Hard Deck masking the sound of Rooster’s fingers as he impatiently drums them on top of the worn table, uncaring of the fact he’s out of tempo with the song.

Penny’s yearly Halloween Spooktacular has always been a fan favorite with those stationed at North Island. A name that Amelia had thrown shade at no less than five times as she worked on designing the event flier the afternoon that the Daggers had been bribed with free beers for coming in on their free time to help decorate.

There wasn’t an inch of the bar that was left untouched, and it wasn’t just that Bob had gotten carried away with the downy spider webbing. There were orange and purple string lights threaded around the circular mug racks, floating candles over the pool table, dangling bats and streamers, and an enthusiastic but poorly executed attempt at a balloon arch over the entry door.

The wispy fog covered punchbowl with a suspicious dark purple beverage bubbled away on the bartop, tendrils cascaded over the side only adding to the atmosphere. The stuff was so potent that Bradley was pretty sure it would put the jungle juice he’d thrown back in college to shame.

Rooster had been tasked with curating the playlist for tonight’s party, and if he’d been paying even a little bit of attention, he’d have known his choices were being well received by the boisterous crowd. But his attention is half split trying to listen to Hangman’s story about the Halloween prank gone wrong that left him with twelve stitches and half listening for-

Ding

He’s quick on the draw to pull out his phone from the chest pocket to check if it was his that went off.

When he’d arrived Nat, decked out in a sequined pink gown with a gun he wasn’t sure was fake or not strapped to her thigh for her Miss Congeniality costume, had given him a look of disdain and said what he was wearing was low effort even for him.

Rooster tucks his phone away with a disappointed sigh when there are zero new notifications on his lock screen.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so whipped over a girl before, Bradshaw,” Hangman drawls, leaning into the gunslinging cowboy thing he has going on for the evening. His shirt is unbuttoned more than is strictly necessary, and is complete with a belt buckle that is larger than the state of Texas and too heavy looking to have been bought off Amazon.

Ding

Bradley fishes out his phone again from the pocket he’d put it back in only moments earlier.

You, 10:32pm: “u up?”

He grins.

“And we’ve lost him,” someone snarks, but he’s too busy punching in the password to unlock his phone to care.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:32pm: are you ever going to let that go?

You, 10:32pm: Mmm, no. You were so bad at being a fuckboy, it was funny.

You, 10:33pm: But in a very hot way, might I add. And clearly, it worked in your favor since I let you come over and hit it a second time.

Rooster snorts in amusement.

It was the first and last time he’d taken Fanboy’s advice and you teased him about it every opportunity you got. He had been a little rusty with the ins and outs of no-strings-attached sex with someone who wasn’t in the Navy. But he’d more than made up for it that same night by eating you out until your legs were shaking and you were weakly pushing his head away as he’d coaxed you into coming just one more time against his tongue.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:33pm: don’t remember hearing you laughing last night when your pussy was dripping all over my cock

He takes a sip of beer as he waits for your response.

You, 10:33pm: Look! You’re already so much better at sexting than you were when we met!

You, 10:34pm: “u up?” is still on the table, by the way. Not to brag, but I even have a pumpkin shaped pizza. 

You, 10:34pm: If you want to come over. 

If you want to come over. He shakes his head reading the text again.

As if he’d ever pass up on getting to spend time with you.

As if Rooster hadn’t been hooked on you since the moment he’d met you.

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗢

As a general rule, Bradley hated grocery shopping.

He’s never had the patience for it, with the way that everyone is in their own world. He gets tired of always having to weave around people and the way that there always seems to be carelessly parked carts or people catching up standing between him and the items on his list.

Which is why when he noticed the parking lot was mostly empty on his way home, he decided to stop and spare himself the headache of doing it over the weekend when everyone else was out and just get it done.

He’d expected to be in and out in record time until the uniform lines of colorful cartons of ice cream caught his attention as he was tossing in a few bags of frozen chicken into his cart. Normally it was always so crowded that he never felt like he could take his time looking without being in someone’s way, that he’d skip it entirely and later try to convince himself that his Greek yogurt was just as good. But tonight since no one was around, he was taking his time.

Under the glare of the fluorescents, he stands there with the hum of the freezers competing with the too-twangy-for-his-taste country song playing over the speakers and debating his options when he feels an arm thread around his own, surprising him out of the pros and cons list he was making in his head between the healthier low-calorie choice versus the one he actually wanted.

“Hi, hello there.” Bradley glances over to see the prettiest pair of eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Do you mind playing along for a few minutes, there’s some creep who keeps trying to bother me.”

He looks over the top of your head to see some guy lingering at the end of the aisle. “The guy who looks like off-brand John Mayer?”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’d be the one.”

“How good are you at picking out ice cream flavors?” he asks, standing up straighter and pulling his shoulders back.

You blink at him in confusion before your lips tick up in a relieved smile. “Very good, as a matter of fact.”

“Great, you came to my rescue just in time.” Bradley guides you closer until you’re in front of him, lightly resting a hand on your hip the way he would if you were his girlfriend. “Is this ok?” he asks under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear.

When you nod, he feels the knot in his chest loosen. Because while he wants this to be convincing to the guy still loitering at the edge of the aisle, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“First things first, we need to establish a baseline.” You point at the carton covered in cartoony looking chocolate chip cookies. “What’s your opinion on cookie dough?”

“Overrated,” he answers, not missing a beat. “I’d rather just eat the stuff out of a tube instead.”

You lean back into him a bit more. “Ooh, tough crowd,” you tease, your head finding his shoulder. “Ok then, mister tempting-fate-with-salmonella, what’s your stance on the great vanilla bean vs French vanilla debate?”

Bradley takes a quick look around to make sure they’re not blocking any other late night grocery shoppers. He pretends to ponder for a moment before responding, “I like the one with flecks.”

“A dignified choice.” You say it so solemnly that he can’t help but chuckle.

The easy back and forth banter goes on for a few more minutes. Sometimes you rib him about his answers and other times agree. It shouldn’t be so fun standing there in front of the cooler filled with tubs of ice cream, but it is. It was the last thing he could have expected when he’d decided to stop in at the last minute on his way home after hitting up the Hard Deck.

When he tells you the two choices he had been contemplating before you’d come up to him, you hum contemplatively and tap a finger against your cheek, “Well this changes everything if you’re dairy free.”

“Nah, just watching my figure. The containers are smaller and I have a sweet tooth.”

“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s something you need to worry about. You fill out those khakis just fine, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Rooster wonders if you can hear his self-satisfied grin. “Not every day I get a pretty girl telling me she was checking out my ass.”

You let out a small, amused scoff and all he feels is pleased with himself.

“I was not checking out your- oh.” The surprise in your voice has him leaning back enough to get a look at your face. “Wait, is he gone?” You peer around his shoulder, but don’t make a move to pull away from the gentle hold he has on you.

“He left around the time you were giving a very impassioned speech about how overlooked spumoni is. I probably should have mentioned it sooner, but you were making a pretty compelling case and I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, trying to play it off casually and hoping that he didn’t just become the creep in this story when you tell it to your friends later.

“Oh, ok. That’s, um, that’s good.” You sound almost… disappointed? You take a step towards the case and he drops his arm back down to his side, already missing the feel of you under it. “Thank you so much for committing to the bit. Seriously, I truly appreciate it,” you say over your shoulder, opening the glass door.

He rubs the back of his neck, watching as you grab a carton out of the freezer, not sure whether to move on with the rest of his shopping or not. But when you turn back towards him, he’s hit with the full force of your smile, feeling it all the way to his toes.

“Rocky Road,” you say, setting the carton into his cart. “It has peanuts in it, which is a nutrient-dense food and an excellent plant-based source of protein. There’s collagen from the gelatin in the marshmallows. And chocolate has antioxidants in it and is known to trigger the holy trinity of happy brain chemicals. It’s basically a superfood.”

Rooster grins. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“No, unfortunately, it really doesn’t,” you agree, playfully leaning a hip against his cart. “But it’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”

He’s so fucking charmed by you and he doesn’t even know your name yet.

While he’s glad he was there at the right time and got to play a small part in deterring that guy from continuing to hassle you, he kind of wishes the two of you could have met under different circumstances, because he’d jump at the chance of being able to score a date with you. He sighs and shakes the thought out of his head.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car?” Rooster offers, ready to abandon his groceries for a few extra minutes with you.

“Oh wow.” That mischievous gleam that had been in your eyes changes to something softer. You tilt your head, taking him in with a thoughtful expression on your face. “You’re one of those rare genuinely a gentleman types, aren’t you? Like the kind who always walks closest to the curb and mows their elderly neighbor’s yard without being asked.” Bradley just lifts a shoulder. He’s used to looking out for other people, it’s just something he’s always done. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you muse, contemplatively, “I should let you know though, knock-off John Mayer is my ex.”

He feels his hackles rise up immediately and scans the area again to double check the guy isn’t still hanging around. “Is he harassing you?”

“Oh no, it was only an unfortunate fluke, I promise,” you say, patting his hand that’s gripping the handle of the shopping cart reassuringly. “He’s just a jackass who thought he could cheat on me and that I’d still take him back.” Bradley grunts at that, even more irritated than he was before. “But he was still trying to test the waters, even after I told him I was seeing someone,” you continue, with a roll of your eyes, “Which was technically true- even if I am in fact single right now- because that’s when I saw you over here gazing very intensely into the freezer case like you’d been personally victimized by Ben and Jerry.”

“You’re out of his league anyways,” he rasps. 

There’s no way in hell Bradley would fumble a girl like you.

You grin widely, clearly amused at his annoyance on your behalf. “He was a tool with an overinflated ego and a flat ass.” Rooster barks out a surprised laugh. “And you’re so much hotter than him, so I really lucked out there with you as my knight in ironed  khakis,” you say unabashedly, reaching out to straighten out his already perfectly straight name tag. “You really went above and beyond for your country there helping me win the break up.”

“I don’t think you needed me for that part. It’s pretty clear you came out on top.” His eyes dart down to your hand on the cart, like you forgot it was still resting on top of his. “But I was more than happy to help all the same.” He takes a half step closer into your space, deciding just to go for it. “I’m thinking we should keep up the ruse though, you know, just in case he is lurking by the pasta or something.”

You quirk a knowing eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“I could also use your professional opinion on cereal. That is if you still have some more shopping to do,” he suggests, nodding to your mostly empty handbasket.

There’s no question that he’s caught your interest, not with the way you’re looking at him. That smile you’re wearing tells a story of its own. “What a coincidence, that just happens to be my forte.”

“I had a feeling you might be the right girl for the job.” Bradley takes your basket from you and sets it in his cart and gestures for you to lead the way.

He learns your name around the same time he does about your hottake on Frosted Cheerios.

And later that night, his groceries are packed away in your fridge as the container of Rocky Road the two of you were sharing melts on your coffee table- the condensation puddling on the marble surface reflecting the credits rolling across the TV screen- as you ride him on your couch. Your hands tightly fisted in his hair and your breathy whines in his ear urging him to fuck you harder and faster until you come with his name in your mouth.

And in the morning, he gets your number over a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The two of you have been fooling around for a couple of months now.

On the nights Rooster wasn’t fucking you, he was getting himself off to the thought of you and wishing you were in bed with him. You’ve never been to his place, so he doesn’t even have the bonus of that bright citrus scent of you lingering on his sheets on the nights he spends alone.

The sex was great. Mind-blowing. You were loud and enthusiastic and gave just as good as you got. Bradley found your confidence sexy as hell. You were the type of girl who knew exactly what she wanted and he was always up for the challenge of finding new ways to make your back arch and toes curl.

But he was just as much of a fan of the parts that came before and after getting you spasming around his cock.

He liked the way your mind worked. You were always telling him about something interesting you’d read, because you were naturally curious about the world around you. You asked him thoughtful questions about his job and his life in the Navy, but not in the way he was used to from the tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck. There was no mistaking you were asking because you wanted to know more about him, and not fixated on the shiny sheen of his golden aviator wings.

Rooster has never laughed as much as he has with you. In those moments between catching your sighs with his mouth and waiting for the knock on the door for whatever late-night craving was being delivered, you’d have him laughing and grinning until his cheeks ached.

The closest he’s ever gotten to taking you on a proper date was that one late night drive-thru run when everything on delivery apps were closed. You’d looked like his favorite daydream sitting there under the glow of the streetlamp in the nearly empty parking lot in a shirt of his that he must have accidently left behind after a hook up.

That night was the most real it’s ever felt. And he wanted more nights just like that.

He liked the way you always seemed to have a documentary to recommend for any given topic, he has a list on his phone and has been working his way through them. He liked the way the glasses you wore sometimes seemed slightly too big for your face because it was cute the way you’d constantly push them back up your nose. He liked that you texted in full sentences with complete and proper punctuation.

Bradley could already imagine how tonight would most likely go.

He’d dip out of the party early and come to your place. Your tongue in his mouth and your greedy little hand tugging to get his belt undone before he’d even made it through the door. The two of you going at it until someone has to tap out- which he is smug in the fact that more often than not it’s usually you- now that he knows all the best ways to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sometimes the two of you order in, and other nights you’ll pass a bowl of ice cream or cereal back and forth over the island in your kitchen where he gets to hear you laugh and tease him and tell him about your day. Then do it all over again and once you’re thoroughly spent, he’ll hold you as you fall asleep. And then in the morning he’ll press a kiss to your cheek and take one more look back at you before leaving through the same door he’d shown up at only hours before.

And that was fine for now, but he wanted more of you. He didn’t want to be just a casual hook up, he wanted to date you.

He wanted to be soft launched and hard launched, or whatever it was that Mickey was talking about that night he’d taken his misguided advice and sent the much teased “u up?” text. He wanted to block people in the chip aisle of the grocery store as you talked him into getting some crazy flavor, turning his least favorite chore into the highlight of his week. He wanted knockoff John Mayer to see he got the girl and knew how to treat her right.

He wanted you to be his girl.

“Aren’t you too old to be in a situationship, Bradshaw?” Jake asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Fuck off,” Rooster grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed and his thumbs still hovering over the screen. A couple minutes have ticked by since your last text as he sits there stewing. He knocks back the remainder of his beer, it’s mostly foam, “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“No, you’re not. Bob hasn’t even performed the dance routine to “Thriller” yet,” Nat says, pinning him to his stool with a look, “Come on, Bradley, just invite her here.” She reaches overs and squeezes his shoulder. “You’ve been seeing her for a couple months now. You’re clearly into her, and you wouldn’t disappear on us as much as you do if she wasn’t into you too. This is a low stakes environment with everything going on and people off having fun doing their own thing. And the two of you can still go and do whatever you’re going to do after.”

“I don’t know, Phoenix, she might dump him when she sees what he’s wearing at a Navy bar on Halloween,” Hangman drawls, unhelpfully, grinning around that damn toothpick.

“Shut it, Bagman,” they both say simultaneously.

“Just throw it out there and see what she says.” Nat slides out of her seat, the beads on her dress scraping against the edge of the stool. “Now, we’re going to let you panic in peace for a few minutes while we get another round.”

“We’re?” Jake asks slowly, deliberately drawing out the word.

“Yep,” she confirms, the look on her face leaving no room for arguments as she tugs him off his seat. “And you’re paying, let’s go.”

Bradley scrubs a hand over his face, but not before he sees Nat punching Seresin in the arm on their way to the bar.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous all of a sudden, he’s never had an issue asking girls out before. Not that he’s ever had to work that hard for it, but still.

His knee bounces on the foot rest as he works out what to say. He types out the message and gives it a quick once over and hits send before he can overthink it.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’d never say no to you or a pumpkin shaped pizza. But I’m actually at a Halloween party right now at the bar near base with some friends. And I’m thinking you should stop by.

Bradley Bradshaw, 10:42pm: I’m sorry it’s a last minute invite, but it’s always a good time and I think you would have fun. I’d like to see you, if “ur up” for it.

He tries not to dwell on the fact he just double texted you, a thing he didn’t know he should be worried about before Fanboy warned him about doing it.

It’s like he’s been hit by lightning the way he shoots up in his seat when he sees those little dots appear on the screen. Rooster holds his breath when they start and stop a few times, each time they disappear and come back again his heart pounds a little harder in his chest.

You, 10:44pm: I’m all in. What’s the address?

All the bubbles from the beer he’d had earlier swarm and rush to his head at once as he drops you a pin.

Nat pushes a shot of bourbon towards him across the table when they return. “Did it go well?”

He nods. “She’s on her way.”

“Good, because you know Halloween is my favorite holiday and your sulking was bringing the vibe down.”

He chuckles, there’s no way he’s beating those whipped allegations now.

She clinks her own shot with his and they throw them back together, the warmth of the expensive tasting liquor sticks behind his sternum.

The next thirty minutes are the longest of Rooster’s life. His head swings to the front door every time it opens, hoping that it’ll be you outlined by the purple, green, and orange string lights.

When he sees you come through the swiftly deflating balloon arch scanning the bar for him, he almost does a double take.

You’ve got on a black and white polka dot top, the cuffs are a flared ruffle that are tied with a bow at your wrist. Your skirt is plain black, but the way it hugs your hips leaves little to the imagination. He can’t even begin to guess what you’re dressed as because other than the night he met you, it’s the most clothes he’s ever seen you in.

Excluding those little silky matching sets you’re usually wearing when he comes over. But those don’t usually stay on too long before they end up on the floor of your living room. Or bedroom. Or kitchen.

He usually has to leave before you, so he’s usually headed out your front door while you’re still wrapped up in one of those fluffy white towels you have. He’s enjoying seeing you here in his favorite bar in that outfit and heading towards him like you’re just as happy to see him as he is to see you.

“Huh, if I'm not mistaken I’m pretty sure that’s what I sent you into work in this morning,” you say, grinning up at him and lightly tugging on the zipper of his flight suit. “Are you supposed to be a Walk of Shame?”

Bradley wraps an arm around you because he can’t help himself. “Please, we all know it’s called the Stride of Pride. It’s never a shame when I get laid.” He presses his fingertips into the swell of the top of your ass before leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, “Plus, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my costume because someone lured me back into bed this morning.”

He had to do 200 extra push-ups and stay behind to do paperwork as penance for being late the third time that week, but it was worth it. But by the time he was finished, the sun was already well on its way to setting. If he’d been a bit more forward thinking he would have brought the costume he had planned with him, instead of thinking he’d have time to swing by his house to change. Bradley didn’t think it was too much of a let down for you, not with the way you’re looking at him. It’s that same heated way that tells him you’re remembering your reaction to it the first time you’d ever seen him in it.

“Sounds like poor planning on your part,” you tease, your finger tracing the edge of his nametag. “I can’t believe you’re wearing your work clothes to a Halloween party, Rooster.”

“Ok, funny girl. Tell me then, what’re you supposed to be?” He takes a step back and gives you a blatant once over, taking his time admiring the shape of you from your head to your toes in some wicked looking heels and back up again.

Maybe if things went well tonight, you’d leave them on for him later when he gets you alone.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to spend the night guessing,” you smirk, the curve of your mouth promising mischief. “But I think you’ll like it once you figure it out.”

“Bradshaw, are you going to introduce us to your sexy librarian?” Hangman hollers, waving the two of you over back to the table with his hat. Bradley doesn’t hear as much as he sees the oof that comes out of the blonde when Phoenix sends an elbow into his side.

Rooster glances at you with a raise of his eyebrow and you shake your head. Not a sexy librarian then.

“I take it you know the rodeo clown?”

He tips his head back and laughs, already looking forward to telling Hangman. “I do. And Gracie Lou Freebush over there too.”

You wave over at Nat, gesturing to her costume and mouth obsessed, before turning back to him to ask, “Is that gun real?”

“I’m too afraid to ask,” he jokes, only half kidding. “C’mon let me get you a drink, I have an in with the bartender.”

“Are you trying to show off for me, Bradley?”

“Definitely.” He reaches out and toys with the end of the bow on your sleeve. “Is it working, Leslie Knope?”

You just send him that devastating smile of yours and thread your fingers through his. “I think I'm going to have so much fun with this tonight.”

“But full disclosure, you see Napoleon Bonaparte?” He points over to where Mav is behind the bar wearing tasseled shoulder pads pouring pints behind the bar next to a bedazzled Penny in a white neoclassical style dress. “That’s my godfather and his fiancée.”

You school the surprise on your face quickly. “Bradley Bradshaw, are you a nepobaby?”

“That’s a story for another time.” He chuckles, carefully winding his way around a Fred Flintstone and a Deviled Egg to the bar. “Be warned though, the Blue Slime Sipper is lethal. I had four last year and put on an a cappella performance of the Ghostbusters theme song.”

“Please tell me someone has a video of that,” you laugh.

“I called in every favor I had to get all evidence of that particular performance erased.”

At the bar, you order two Blue Slime Sippers looking the picture of innocence as you admire the giant spider affixed to the top of the bar by the till, even though he knows better.

One for him and one for you.

He briefly introduces you to Penny and Mav, trying to keep it casual. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that there’s not more time for small talk or jokes about the frosted tips he had when he was thirteen.

Their guess at a modern day I Love Lucy was also met with a no.

But he’s pretty sure Mav’s attempt to stealthily shoot him two thumbs up after you get your neon blue colored drinks fails based on the way your lips are pressed together in an attempt to smother the smile that he sees toying at the corners of your mouth.

Over the course of the night, it becomes a game that the rest of the team joins in on as he introduces them to the girl he’s been hung up on for weeks.

You help him kick Payback and Fanboy’s asses at the Eyeball Beer Pong that Penny had set up outside on the deck.

“Damn, Lawyer Barbie has an arm,” Fanboy says, the spring of the Slingy Dog costume sagging sadly between him and Payback, watching as you sink another doodled on ping-pong ball into a cup.

“I think we need a rematch,” Payback countered after their loss, “Flight Attendants have great hand-eye coordination, it’s an unfair advantage.”

Both guesses were met with a no.

When you side with Nat over Death Becomes Her as the best, but most underrated, Halloween movie, she throws her hands up in victory, “Thank you! Finally, someone with good taste… Olivia Pope?”

It’s another no, but he’s happy to see how much fun you’re having with his friends.

Between the riotous costume contest voting, and the one-man performance of “Thriller” that Bob puts on, and the pumpkin tic-tac-toe, Rooster has a lot of fun making his own guesses.

Except for the time he offers up Miss Bliss, he nearly chokes on his Cauldron Cooler when you ask him, “Is that a porn thing?”

Which in hindsight, he probably should have specified from the show Saved by the Bell, that he only knew because he’d been into Tiffani Amber Thiessen as a kid, but he doesn’t get to because you’re too busy delightedly laughing at his near spit-take.

He sticks close to your side, an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist. There’s a moment when he gets worried he might be smothering you, but then you’d lean your head on his shoulder and he figured you were right where you wanted to be.

The two of you step outside when the Monster Mash smashburger contest starts up, the song following you to the sun-bleached wooden deck.

There are less people out here now, a few people are stationed behind the ping-pong table and others are seated on the picnic tables chatting and swapping stories. Most of his friends had stayed inside to cheer on Coyote’s attempt to hold onto his burger eating crown.

It’s the first time all night that he has you on your own, and while he appreciates how welcoming his friends are with wanting to make you feel included and slipping in more than a few jokes at his expense, he’s ready to have you to himself for a while.

But first.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you’re supposed to be?” He runs a finger along the ruffle down the front of your shirt. “I think I’ve lost count of how many failed attempts I’ve made now and It’s starting to take a toll on my ego.”

“How about this, you tell me what you were supposed to be and then I’ll tell you what my costume is,” you offer, playfully.  

You’re still toying with him like a cat does a string and he doesn’t mind a single bit.

He steps in close, winding an arm around your low back pulling you in close. “James Bond,” he says, enjoying the way your eyes light up.

“Now that’s something I would love to see,” you murmur, running your hand along his arm. “Not that the flight suit isn’t working for me.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you.

Rooster shakes his head amused. “I’ll put it on for you later if you want.” He grins smug because he knows exactly how much this flight suit works for you, but you haven’t seen him in a tux yet. “Now, I’ve been dying to know since the moment you walked in, what are you dressed as?”

You grin, wide and bright, like you’ve been waiting for this all night.

“Your future girlfriend, I thought it was pretty obvious.”

Bradley doesn’t waste a moment bringing both of his hands to your face and getting his lips on yours. A surprised noise escapes from the back of your throat before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more. His tongue chases after the sweetness of your mouth. He can’t get enough of it.

He can’t get enough of you.

“So I take it, you like my costume then?” you ask against his lips.

“I’m about to go swipe that trophy from Cousin Itt because yours is the best one here by far.” You giggle when he pulls you back in to kiss you again- or tries to. “C’mon, sweetheart, I need you to cooperate here. I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

But then his teeth click against yours because now you’ve got him smiling too.

You skim another soft kiss against his mouth and lean back. “You know, I did have a back-up costume, just in case things didn’t go well.” You put a finger up and twist a little in his arms to rummage in your purse. And when you turn back towards him you’ve got a bright red clown nose on your face.

“Are you kidding me? The only clown here is Seresin.” He chuckles and gently pulls it from off your nose. “I’ve been trying to figure out how lock this down for weeks now. That tux was going to be my ace. It’s about a half size too small, but I figured it might do the trick to make things more official. It’s a good thing I’ve got a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Bradshaw. I still want to see you in it.”

“I can make that happen. Especially since that means I get to take you home with me tonight.” He drops a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got an idea about what we can be next year though.”

“It’s not even midnight yet, and you’re thinking about next year?”

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m all about playing the long game. Just want to give you something to look forward to.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you say, giving him an expectant look.

“Considering how we met and all, I think contestants from Supermarket Sweep would be a solid choice for us. There’s nothing sexier than some khakis and sweatshirts.”

You look delighted and amused and like his.

“Done. You know I am a big fan of you in a pair of khakis.”

Rooster tugs you to him again needing to taste your grin. He hears a cheer go up inside of the bar, probably for whoever won the contest, but he pretends it’s for him.

After all, he’s the one who got the girl.

Happy Halloween! I'm dropping a smitten Rooster into everyone's candy bucket this year! Thank you for reading!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #7: AGGRANDICIZE

(also on spotify!)

There's no other way to intro this song - TAKE IT AWAY, TIKTOK VOICE

---

It's a hot and muggy night in Texas, mid-July of 2022.

In my dream, I am somewhere else entirely - A room in the city of Chicago, nestled somewhere high up amongst a countless number of high-rises, aesthetically somewhere between an upscale apartment, an art gallery, and a concert hall. Wide-open windows reveal the landscape of glass and steel spires, light bouncing between reflective surfaces indiscriminately and ultimately making it into the space I'd found myself in.

A good few souls were gathered here, many in suits holding notepads and handheld recorders, others in the flamboyantly-casual wear you might expect from a rock star invited to a press event. A song was playing at modest volume over an unseen sound system, an achingly familiar arrangement steadily ticking away at mid-tempo, drums striking with exacting precision upon each downbeat.

I held in my hand a phone, open to a familiar looking website. I don't recall most the actual words - it was a dream, there likely weren't any - but I recall it in broad strokes, with one specific detail, so I'll do my best to recreate the experience below.

i don't know if any of these shapes actually mean anything i just scribbled things down because i remember there being a row of Something there

"Some might bemoan this newest foray into glossy, baroque art pop as being simply a cheap Kate Bush impersonation," our dream reviewer wrote. "For Jamie, though, I believe she'd take this as a compliment."

And yes, I would. That's the kind of artist you're grateful to be mentioned in the same breath as! That being said, like, huh? That's not even how you spell aggrandize. What?

I woke up with a singular mission.

---

In this day and age, "being a star" is a strangely democratized concept. Everyone is a celebrity, with a brand image to maintain and an audience to cater to and a compelling story arc to be followed. Fandom manifests in all its beautiful and nightmarish aspects even in amounts of tens of people.

Maybe it's my boomer dadrock-loving parents, or my childhood obsession with the game Rock Band, or some chemical imbalance, or simply some toxic nostalgia manifest, but part of me couldn't help but crave it.

I wanted it to be true!! The romantic idea of the musician, touring nonstop in beatup vans across entire continents, pouring their heart out on stage and in recording booths, seeing their name up in lights and embossed in gilded vinyl records, finding constant companionship secondhand. Obviously, reality is so much messier than that, but honestly, it's a dream I've never really been able to let go of - being a star.

I shouldn't have to tell you how out of touch with reality that ideal is. That doesn't stop the dreams from coming.

The subject Aggrandicize is written for, that the lyrics are addressed to, is fame itself. To be wanted, to be dissected, to be bleached and recycled ad infinitum, to be subject to the churning violent machine of fame; To be forever just out of sight, to lack the luck, to bleed and bleed and bleed until you're nothing and not even get a single inch closer to that goal because it's impossible and it's not even what you want. Doesn't it sound like paradise? To tower over reality itself, a redwood tree amongst bushes and ferns? To take this image and stretch, to grow so big gravity revolves around you? To be more brand than body? To be a star?

I don't need that. I don't want that, even if I think I do. Maybe I want to want you to want me, but it is an ideal destined to rot me from the inside out and drain me for every ounce of blood. I just want to make music! And honestly, the path I've gone down has proven that I can have my cake and eat it, too - Playing live at Digital Stars earlier this year was one of the most gratifying and fulfilling experiences I've ever had in my life. I can make better memories by following where my art takes me, memories without 'fame' and 'fortune', memories of light and connection and getting in a room with a bunch of people who know the lyrics and singing my fucking heart out alongside them.

...

Basically, I own a TikTok account, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever use it.

---

This song, like many others I've written, was created primarily through assembling a bunch of piecemeal ideas I'd amassed over a couple years of demos. In particular, it borrows a lot from On Fire, a song I wrote for a song jam hosted by Fourth Strike Records back in 2021! I couldn't really tell you why, but I just keep returning to this song over and over - first with Encore, and now with this... Thankfully, I think I've exhausted this font of ideas at this point.

Aggrandicize, somewhat fittingly, is also the song that gave me the most technical trouble on this entire release - I think I genuinely went back and reworked the mix some fifty-odd times before finally giving up and just sending it as-is. I'm still somewhat unhappy with the final result, but hey, the only difference between a work-in-progress and a finished piece is what you call it, I guess.

This is another song I've had a lot of MV ideas for, and that may very well still see a video if I decide to go that route! There's a couple concepts that I've floated, including possibly an animated/animatic type video, but the original concept was to do a whole shitload of fake brainrot tiktoks and film them playing off a phone synced up to the music. That idea never took off, mostly because I couldn't bring myself to do all that, but there's exactly one remnant I'd like to share.

That's it for today!! If you have any questions, I'll gladly answer them below, but otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow to talk about women who love other women with Liaison!

[doktordismemberment]

Roundup

Blah Blah:

Well, my back is definitely getting better but it's still nowhere near back to normal... It honestly wouldn't bother me so much if I knew what the hell I did to piss it off so badly.

Seriously, I've been wracking my brain for days trying to think of anything I could have done that would have put me out of commission for an entire week and unless I'm completely mistaken the day I hurt it we mostly hung in, worked on music, and only really stepped out briefly to grab a pizza.

Oh well, at least it's heading in the right direction.

In other news, we're working on fleshing out a bunch of Rot Coven tracks that we wrote while recording the new album. Musically it'll be about what one would expect from us (ugly death/ noise/ doom) except we're both doing vocals on this one and a couple of tracks vary up the tempos a bit more than usual. Might be a while before it's done. We'll see.

-

Muzak:

KEN Mode - Dissonant noise rock/ hardcore from Canada. Cut from pretty much the same cloth as Great Falls, Yautja, Faking, etc. Been listening to a ton of their most recent album in anticipation of the new one that's coming out next month.

-

Defiled - Long running Japanese band. At first glance they'd seem like your average "meat and potatoes" death metal band: No frills, fairly ugly and grizzled, mostly pretty fast. But then you start to notice how weird and angular and almost "proggy" a lot of their riffs are, and how theres a ton of odd part changes and some seriously weird interplay between the riffs and the drums, and all of a sudden they start to sound a bit like Zeni Geva sped up to 3x normal speed.

This newest release is pretty great, but I think "In Crisis" is still my favorite of their albums.

-

Psychic Teens - I hadn't listened to Psychic Teens in kind of a while before one of their tracks popped up on shuffle while I was doing laundry last week and reminded me how good this album is.

Think: Scrungy, sweat stained, noise rock ala The Jesus Lizard welded to gloomy vocals and the heavily reverbed-and-chorused guitar tone of "Dreamtime" era Cult.

-

Video Games:

Bomb Rush Cyberfunk - How long has it been since they announced this game? Four years? Maybe five? Something like that... Cool that it's finally out. I've only had time to play it for about half an hour so far but it seems like they definitely nailed the Jet Set Radio vibe.

The first JSR is pretty close to my favorite game of all time so I'm really stoked to dig in and spend some time with this.

-

Reading:

Gonna make a run at the Drizzt books by R.A. Salvatore 'cos I loved them when I was a kid and haven't re-read them ever. I seem to remember them being like a Jean Claude Van Damme movie set in the Forgotten Realms and I really hope they live up to that.

-

Tube:

Dust Devil - Watched this with DD last night... One of my favorite films ever. Up there with Razorback, The last Wave, Hardware, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I love how Namibia looks like a dead planet and how that lends the whole movie a ghostly/ otherworldly feeling that totally suits the story of a predatory spirit bound in human flesh.

-

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend and this week's song was a STRUGGLE!! There were so many good ones to choose from, so I'll tell you how I narrowed it down (which literally no one but you might care about). First, i wanted something that felt mostly joyous, because that was how the episode ended, on a note of mutual healing and peace. Second, i wanted something that could apply to either TK or Carlos since their issues were ultimately the same this time, wrestling with needing "fixing" and how they both

ended up being the other's source of healing. So with that in mind, i went this week with One. We've mentioned before how intense Ryan's elongated "i" in the when he sings just hits so many feelings. And with lyrics like "every imperfection is a lie" and "the price of this so called perfection is everything" and of course the chorus (whether you take grace to be religious or something simple like understanding). It's about letting yourself be a mess and it felt appropriate.

Hi my friend! I am banging this out before bed because I promised it would be done before the episode tomorrow and this is the first chance I've had since you sent it. I think this is an excellent choice and I love your reasoning on how you narrowed it down! With all the angst it looks like Tarlos will be having in the next couple weeks, I think picking a thoughtful but ultimately joyful song was the right choice. So let’s dig in!

hold on for a minute, ‘cause i believe that we can fix this over time, that every imperfection is a lie. or at least an interruption... now hold on, let me finish. no, i’m not saying perfect exists in this life, but we’ll only know for certain if we try.

Okay, I adore Carlos, but while he seemed so put together in season 1, we’ve seen over time how he has this need for control and a...I wouldn’t say “obsession” but a fixation on presenting a perfect image to the world. Which given he’s a gay Latino in Texas isn’t surprising since he likely had to be twice as good as everyone to be half as respected, plus his dad definitely added pressure to live up to a certain standard, and still seemed to think it wasn’t enough and Carlos wasn’t cut out for the job he has as an officer much less his dream of detective. So this song is really such a good one for him especially (also, ones being that type A personality, the  C Major key, 120pbm tempo, and the percussion being made with household cleaning tools all just fit so well!). However we see a lot of TK also putting up that “front” of perfection, starting at the 126 and pretending everything was fine and finding out 3 episodes in that he’s just been totally numb but has been masking it from everyone. Where Carlos falls on the “I can’t let anyone know I’m not perfect at all times” side of striving for perfection, TK falls on the “everyone KNOWS I’m a mess, so I have to constantly be proving myself” side. Two sides of the same coin really. Which leads us nicely into the chorus!

i want to sing a song worth singing, i’ll write an anthem worth repeating. i want to feel the transformation, the melody of reformation.

WOW is this a good fit for these two! Both of them want to leave a lasting impression, to feel like they’ve done something worth remembering, and also they are both seeking transformation in this front of being perfect. Carlos, from what he perceives is, if not a full rejection then certainly not a celebration and acceptance, of his identity, and TK from his addiction and the person he was under the influence. 

but the list goes on forever, of all the ways i could be better, in my mind. as if i could earn God’s favor given time, or at least “congratulations”...

now, i have learned my lesson; the price of this so-called perfection is everything. i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing of me.

*cries in Tarols* The way both of them keep doing amazing things and keep thinking it’s not enough, it will never be enough to “make up” for who they are...brb gotta go cry into a pillow for an hour about them. BUT we are starting to see that growth for them and how they have learned that the front they’ve put up of perfection was keeping them from being truly seen by their partner and ultimately they lost each other over it with the breakup that started s3. Now you KNOW those last two lines are some of my favorites and I get chills every time, and this time is no different! 4x02 showed us the two of them on the same page, being vulnerable with each other without it being A Big Event, just being able to talk things out and move forward and I love, love, love that for them and for us!

i want to sing a song worth singing, i’ll write an anthem worth repeating. i want to feel the transformation, the melody of reformation.

i’ll hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly, ‘cause i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing. grace requires nothing of me.

We have seen several seasons of TK being so scared to lose Carlos and while I think we are going to see both of them being tested this week and next, it was so, so, so good to see Carlos drop SUCH a huge bombshell on TK and to see TK take it in stride and make sure Carlos felt heard, and supported, and loved, but he didn’t shy away from sharing his insecurities when they did come up. Carlos for his part WAS worried about telling TK and we know TK stepping back from the relationship has been an issue for them before, but he still did it and it actually went really well! We are seeing the growth even from s3 and the sponsor situation where they are holding their relationship “more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly” because they have gotten to the point where they aren’t clinging on for dear life just hoping it was enough. They are confident that what they have built is REAL and STRONG and they know what they want moving forward. 

This song isn’t long but it has such depth and feeling and the gentle vulnerability of “i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately to find out that grace requires nothing of me” just strikes me down every time. It’s about the acceptance that you don’t HAVE to be perfect all the time and the ones that love you, love ALL the parts of you, without you having to “polish” or “tidy” them up. And for two men who have spent their lives trying to live up to certain expectations, it must be such a relief that they’ve found a relationship they can find rest in, and where they can be themselves and know they are loved.

It’s past my bedtime now so I’ll wrap it up, but this was SUCH a good choice for this week, and I hope that whatever happens in the rest of the season reinforces this idea for them that they are enough as they are. Thanks for facing The Struggle and picking the perfect song for this week. Cheers to the new episode tomorrow and fingers crossed for some delicious angst!

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 4 - Storm

When it came to the weather in Tempo, there wasn’t much difference to tell the passage of each season. All that seemed to change was the temperature in the air, and even then it didn’t fluctuate that much. What else would you expect from a desert town? At least on the plus side, it meant the people living there didn’t have too much to worry about. Maybe sandstorms? Tornadoes? Well, those were probably more likely, but so was any state practically bordering Texas, especially when going further north.

Rain came, as it always did. Wouldn’t be much vegetation if that wasn’t the case right? Even while the rain poured from the heavens, generally nothing bad ever happened. The van had good traction, so slick roads were handled. Umbrellas were always kept in the back, just on the off chance they were required, though half the time Vivi would just make a run for it.

That was a luxury Arthur couldn’t really afford. As advanced as his arm was, water was still the greatest weakness it held.

Thank goodness the others were alright with waiting for him whenever that happened.

Considering the most recent circumstances, some aspects of their dynamic began to rise back to the surface. Not all of Lewis’ temper disappeared, not that any of them expected it to. There were moments when anger tended to get the better of him, and his relationship with Arthur was still filled with annoyed looks. Sometimes even glares.

Yet despite all that, it was clear he was making an effort.

The boys could still sometimes chat like they used to, even crack a smile in one another’s direction. When effort was given, it was received in turn. Vivi found it much easier to trust the ghost, even if not fully. She could trust him with the most basic things; however, since the Mystery Skulls were back in action, she wasn’t so sure she could trust him to have their back when it counted. Frankly, she could say the same for Mystery, but he was forgiven far more easily for a couple reasons.

For one, he was actually around in the time when Lewis was not. He had been there when they needed him. For two, he hadn’t purposefully tried to kill anyone. He truly was like Arthur, holding guilt for an action of harm against another, but in the kitsune’s case, his only goal was to save their friend, not kill him.

Lewis had done that deed.

Blond man and dog had already begun to mend the wound caused by that injury, and in a way, having Mystery there helped to ease his own fears. Both of them had suffered at the hands of the same entity, and could find comfort in one another’s shared experience.

As far as Arthur himself went, he tried to be much more open with his friends, both of them. While there were still instances where he held his emotions under lock and key, or even ignored Vivi when she tried to get in contact with him, he still worked to break the habit of letting them know when something was bothering him.

Small steps.

Point being, the consideration hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rain they had down pat. It was a whole ‘nother ball game when it came to snow.

White covering the ground in Tempo, or even anywhere around Tempo for that matter, was quite rare. Rarer still was getting enough height to the point where vehicles could not drive down the road, let alone get out from where they were parked. And so that’s how the four of them were now stuck at Vivi’s place, having gone over there to discuss some cases. When the snow started coming down, no one suspected it would turn out this bad.

The temperature was already beginning to drop, the chill appearing to seep through the walls. Of course, Lewis and Mystery didn’t seem at all bothered by this fact; although, the same could not be said for Vivi and Arthur. While the former of the two often wore a sweater year round, even she could feel the difference. The latter of the two was another issue.

Arthur’s vest might have been warm, but it wasn’t exactly covering all parts of his body. He should have been smart enough to wear something a little warmer given it was the middle of winter, but old habits must truly die hard. Same could be said for the shirt he wore. At least he had pants on.

Even so, that wasn’t the most pressing problem.

None of them had taken into account how the blond’s metal arm would take to the cold, not even Arthur himself. It wasn’t like the other three knew the first thing about how it all worked. Whenever it was explained to them, it was almost like he was speaking a foreign language. All they could do was nod their heads, as if they were following along with absolute clarity.

Arthur was another matter.

He couldn’t help but kick himself mentally for this oversight. He should have known better. Was it for the lack of a real ‘winter cold?’ Was it truly just something he forgot about? He knew heat had an effect on the arm, so why wouldn’t the cold? Great, now he was going to have to figure out a solution for this. As if he didn’t already have enough ‘arm upgrade projects’ to juggle around.

For now, it didn’t seem like the limb was bothering him that much. Sure, it felt colder than usual, but as long as the heater in the Yukino home was running, there was nothing to worry about.

As if God himself had been listening to the blond’s thoughts, that was the moment when the power decided to flicker out.

Just great.

It had long since been deemed unsafe for any of them to try and make their way home with the storm hitting this hard, but now that decision was definitive. No member of the Yukino family thought it wise to try sending those boys out on their own, most of all Vivi. Arthur made sure to call his uncle to let him know where he was before passing the phone to Lewis. The ghost seemed to give a look of confusion.

The blond just seemed to tilt his head back, “Aren’t you going to call your family?”

Eyes narrowed. Oh that wasn’t a good sign. He began to hand the phone back, “Arthur you know I ca-”

He was cut off by the blond motioning to Vivi’s family. Of course, what would they think if he didn’t at least inform them of his whereabouts? He’d been purposefully avoiding them, and it was a wonder that not only had the two families not already informed the Peppers about their son’s return to Tempo, but also the passersby who knew him.

Maybe it was the sunglasses? Maybe it was the suit he would sometimes be wearing rather than his normal outfit? Or maybe they already knew and were giving him space? Regardless, he had to play his part. Stepping to the side, he ‘called’ his family.

Then he finally gave the phone back.

Day dragged into night.

The Yukinos were kind, providing a meal for the boys stuck hunkering down in their home. They were important to Vivi. Lewis did his best sneaking food to the other three, making it look like he was eating what was provided to them. It seemed to work for the most part.

When the darkness became too much, the collective deemed it was time for bed. With any luck, the storm should pass through the night, then it was a matter of waiting for the roads to clear. With the four of them working together, they could surely dig the van out enough to allow Arthur to return to Kingsmen Mechanics.

Lewis could just return to his mansion under the cloak of invisibility.

Arthur insisted the ghost stay with Vivi in her room while he took the couch. He couldn’t very well kick the Yukinos out of their respective rooms, and as far as any of them were aware, the bluenette and ghost were still dating. It only made sense they would want to share a room. All about keeping the act up. He would be fine on the couch. Sure wouldn’t be the first time.

When the duo finally agreed, they slipped off in the darkness of the home. Arthur stood in place until he heard the sound of the door shutting.

The blond exhaled the breath he had been holding in, feeling relief wash off him. Talking to Lewis was indeed getting easier, but even the smallest disagreements, or plans he disagreed with could lead to that temper rearing its ugly head. He was overjoyed nothing bad happened this time.

 After lowering himself to the couch, he worked to remove his vest and shirt, a task that normally wouldn’t seem like the chore it was now. Where metal connected to skin had begun to feel numb hours ago. It was another case of keeping something to himself rather than worry his friends. Guess the mindset of “I can totally handle this for the rest of the day” came back to bite him in the ass. Well, the sooner he got it off now, the better.

First, he tied a knot in the left sleeve of the shirt.

Arthur rested the arm against the coffee table in front of him, then slipped the shirt back on. With a lack of any other garments to change into, he was left to sleep in the same clothes he wore during the day. He couldn’t dress down for the fear of freezing, and the pants would give him some warmth. At least he also had a blanket.

Too bad it could only warm him up so much.

He mentally cursed every home that didn’t have a fireplace.

The removal of his metal limb had helped, but just barely. The end of his shoulder still felt numb, and whenever there was a feeling, it was tight. It was like the muscles tensed, and could not relax themselves, creating a less than favorable combination of discomfort. Would he even be able to get to sleep were it not for the freezing temperatures?

Arthur wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt a sudden weight near his legs. That had to be Mystery, coming to help warm him up. As considerate as the kitsune was in this gesture, there was little he would truly be able to do. A giant fox with multiple tails wasn’t exactly hiding in plain sight as a dog if he took on his true form to offer the blond more warmth. A small whine echoed from the other end of the couch, earning a whisper from the man, “I know… t-thanks a-anyw-way Mystery.”

Damn the slight stutter from the cold.

Guess he should be happy his teeth weren’t joining in with it.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed this time before he saw a small light hovering above him. Did someone light a candle or something? Maybe he could huddle close to it, or at least his shoulder could. When tired eyes brought the room into some semblance of order, he could see it wasn’t a candle, but rather the flaming pompadour on top of a floating skull. What was he doing out here? Wait, was he having some kind of dream, or nightmare, and he wasn’t aware of it? That would make sense.

Lewis was probably here to finish the job.

His body trembled, not simply from the lack of heat. He never was good at hiding how scared he became, especially when it came to their otherworldly friend. Part of him just wanted the ghost to get it over with, rather than drag this out longer than it needed to.

He reached out towards Arthur.

Arms wrapped around him.

The blond felt himself being lifted from the couch.

Resting in Lewis’ arms.

Floating down the hall....

Stopping in front of Vivi’s bedroom door…

Wait… wait a minute… What was going on?

Lewis adjusted his hold on Arthur, twisting the knob to open the door, the squeaking of wood echoing from his attempt to create as little noise as possible. Once the three of them were in the room, because of course Mystery followed them, the door was shut once again. The blond couldn’t take it anymore, whispering up at his captor, “Lewis, what’s going on?”

The ghost said nothing.

Just dropped him down on the other side of Vivi’s bed. Were it not for the ghost quickly laying the pulled sheets and blankets over him, Arthur was sure he would have sprung right back out. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here.

“Lewis wha-”

“Hush Arthur. Get some sleep.”

“But-”

Lewis placed a finger against the blond’s lips, floating over him. There wasn’t much space between him and Vivi, yet Lewis somehow found a way to snuggly fit. He could feel Mystery hop onto the bed, body pressed against his legs. Where he once felt cold, a warm seemed to wash over him; although, he couldn’t tell if that was from Lewis’ unnatural heat, or the comfort of his friends.

Finally, he found his eyes closing, sleep taking him to escape the storm.

[novelconcepts]

I'm up way too late but may I submit two brief proposals vis-á-vis the postcards(?) on Jamie and Dani's fridge: 1) Once they've settled into ife in Vermont, they go through a phase where they decide they're going to see as much of the USA as they can (while they still can) and the postcards are the result of that adventure. 2) For a while, Miles and Flora send them postcards somewhat regularly, and they always go straight on the fridge. Eventually, the cards stop coming, but the old ones stay up

For the first few months, Dani can’t sit still. It’s the strangest damn thing, because she’s never been that kind of person. Dani is patient. Dani is patient to a fault, even. She can sit for an hour or more, waiting for a child’s stubborn facade to crack away and let her in. She’s trained herself to draw up lesson plans at night over a glass of wine, moving through the subjects with comfortable ease. She’s lost hours staring into the fire, mulling over old mistakes and older fears. Dani is genuinely good at sitting still, thinking things out, making a decision only when the pot has boiled over at last.

But these days, after leaving Bly, it’s like that pot never runs dry. It’s just burbling there on an indefinite loop, and no matter how she tries to calm it, she always seems to turn around to find boiling water splashing around her feet. Sooner or later, she thinks, it’s going to burn her. 

It’s better, she finds quickly, if she’s in motion. If her brain isn’t so occupied with that inward gaze that has done her such harm over the years, if she won’t let herself just lay on her back and stare at a dark ceiling, searching for patterns that Jamie insists, insists are not there, it doesn’t feel so...so...

So much like being watched. 

She moves. She moves, and Jamie moves with her. Jamie has gotten so good so fast at reading her moods: at looking up over a morning cup of tea and seeing something behind Dani’s eyes that wasn’t there last night. She’s afraid to ask what that something might be, but Jamie only ever raises her eyebrows, raises her cup in a salute, and says, “Where to, then, Poppins?”

Jamie, as always, giving her permission. So, they move. From England to Vermont, for starters, and it’s so much more than Dani remembered America being. Bigger. Colder. She feels like she’s always looking over her shoulder, and maybe that isn’t so new. Maybe that’s why she came out to Bly in the first place. But now, now it’s different. Now she peeks into reflections with the hopeful terror of a child who almost wants to catch a glimpse of the monster beneath the bed, because at least seeing it would mean the damn thing is there. Waiting. Watching. Breathing down the back of her neck like the soft brush of otherworldly fingers, ready to clamp tight. 

They hit Vermont, and Jamie doesn’t seem to mind that Dani sometimes leaps out of bed at sunrise and spends the next eighteen hours doing laps around their life. The grocery store. The bank. The apartment. She pings from one to the next like an out-of-control meteor on its way to an extinction event, and Jamie just watches. Just raises her eyebrows. Lays a hand gently around her wrist. Says, “All right, there, Poppins?”

And, no. No, it isn’t all right. But it’s better. Better than sitting alone in a room in that big, sprawling house where the walls are lined with memories of Hannah’s smile and Owen’s terrible sense of humor and those perfect, glorious, sad children she loves so much, even now. 

They’re in Vermont for a month when the itch gets too big to sit on any longer. When she physically can’t calm herself with the now-familiar route of errand and takeout pizza and trying to figure out how adults put together a home they actually want to live in. One night, with rain playing havoc on the apartment windows, with gusts slamming the panes so hard, she thinks they might shatter, she turns her eyes to Jamie. 

“Texas?”

It’s a million miles away from their home, which is growing rapidly warm and cozy and green under their care, and she thinks Jamie’s going to say something. About how maybe they could just start small. Maybe they could just take it easy. But Jamie just takes her hand, raises it to her lips, presses a kiss to the smooth skin just below her palm. 

“Texas, then. Why not?”

Texas is huge and rambling and a kind of wicked dry-hot England has never so much as joked about, and they spend a week just...walking. Poking into dive bars, where Jamie proves herself unaccountably good at pool, and little cafes, where Dani makes weak jokes about strong coffee. Holding hands under the table in restaurants mostly laid bare by late evening. Jamie smiles at her, and Dani feels the thing inside curl up a little tighter. Sink a little lower in her chest. 

The states spiral out like a summer sky after that, one after another. In Louisiana, they fall into good food and better music, dancing beneath the stars until Jamie is spinning her so fast, their laughter rings breathless through the night air. In Georgia, they pick fresh fruit and explore bookstores that smell like childhood ought to, and Jamie presses her into a kiss so warm and inviting that Dani almost forgets time exists outside of their lips. In Illinois, they explore a big city; in New York, a bigger one. The world sprawls, rolls, lands with all the care of heaped-up leaves on an October morning, and Dani lets herself fall. Into Michigan’s northern beauty, into California’s almost too-hip chatter, into the history of Washington and the quiet of Montana. Everywhere they go, the world feels a little more solid beneath her feet. Everywhere they go, Jamie’s hand is so steady in her own. 

They’re laying together in a hotel room in Boston when Jamie presses her to the bed and buries her face in her neck and Dani, for the first time in months, actually forgets. The world vibrates to a standstill around them, the music of other bodies through the walls fading to a distant tempo, and Jamie’s hands are confident, and Jamie’s kiss is searing, and Dani hasn’t felt this solid since--since--

She gasps, and for a minute, cold fear grips her from the inside: that Jamie’s going to raise her eyes and see that terrified girl again, the one who couldn’t be touched for longer than a second without doubling back on her own guilt. Maybe she’s still that girl, she thinks. Maybe she’s still back there, in some way, folding around her own secrets so tight, it’s astonishing she never shattered like one of her mother’s porcelain dolls. 

And then Jamie is raising her head, looking her in the eyes, and she’s smiling. The same smile from the night she first laid all the cards out on the table, inviting Dani to hold her, inviting Dani to know her for real. The world swims, and Dani wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck, and there is nothing watching this time. Nothing lurking. Nothing dark, or hungry, or wild. The desperation is the right kind, her own kind, the kind she and Jamie make together in these moments that never seem to last long enough. She exhales, and she feels like Dani Clayton in every atom. 

The postcards are Jamie’s idea. The steadiness so often is, Dani will note in later years, Jamie’s idea. Maybe because Jamie didn’t know what steadiness felt like until she was in her twenties. Maybe because Jamie is still waiting for it to skid out from under her boots. One day, in a little Midwestern town Dani’s already forgotten the name of, Jamie says, “We should send them a card.”

She doesn’t have to explain who. They both know how much they miss those kids. Both can feel it in the empty spaces at the table where there should be creaking chairs, shrieking sugar-laughter, the soft chuckle of adults learning how to laugh again at a child’s jokes. Jamie reaches out to a counter display, plucks a card plastered with a mountain so majestic, it might as well be made-up. She hands it and a pen to Dani, and nods. 

“They’ll like it.”

And they do. The postcard, and so many like it, go out--and, when they find their way back home at last, when Dani feels as though the adrenaline has cooled enough to let her breathe, to let the world rest like it did in that room back in Boston, the cards come back in. Fresh ones, painted with Disney characters and cherry blossoms and silly phrases about wishing they were there. Flora’s handwriting is getting better; Miles’, somehow, worse. They tack each one on the fridge as they come, leaning against the kitchen counter, remembering how it felt to breathe the air in Oregon, how the ocean licked around their ankles in Florida. 

The memories help. They’re grounding, somehow. To look at these tiny cards, the edges turning up from the handling of small fingers, and say, We did this. This was real. We were real there, and so are they. 

It makes her feel a little less like vibrating out of her skin with every card on that fridge. With every afternoon helping Jamie arrange flowers at the shop. With every evening bottle of wine, every stolen cigarette in bed, every shower Jamie pretends to be grumpy about her sliding into, the world resolves itself into a little more clarity. We’re doing this. This is real. We are here, even if they’re not. 

Slowly, slowly, as paper months burn and reveal bound-up yearbooks in their place, Dani finds she’s breathing through the panic. That the panic is, in fact, coming less and less frequently. That she’s sleeping through the night, turned toward Jamie always, the beam of light in the darkness she never has to question. The shop is flourishing. The apartment shows no sign of monsters in its corners. She’s thinking of Christmas again, but this time, the word she lands on isn’t if. 

The postcards are slowing. More and more of them turn up, when they turn up at all, in the neat, fidgety hand of Henry Wingrave. The words have far less heart, far more reality behind them. The kids are doing fine, just fine. They’re settling out quite nicely in California. You really should visit someday, you’d be quite welcome. 

She holds this invitation, elbows propped on the counter, and sighs. Jamie, who has been performing her nightly ritual of burning whatever she happens to put on the stove and inventing swear words so righteous, Dani can’t help but laugh, glances over her shoulder. 

“Something wrong?”

“They’re growing up,” Dani says, and there’s a tightness in her voice she doesn’t expect. A sharp needle behind her eyes. She raises a hand, drags her fingers across her face before the tears can fall and spoil the blue ink on the card. 

Arms slide around her waist, Jamie coming to rest against her body with all the familiarity of falling asleep. Her lips press to the thin cotton of Dani’s shirt, warm, understanding. 

“I hear that’s the idea. Of kids and all.”

She knows. Of course she knows. And what’s the alternative, but something built of horror and trauma? They’re growing up, and they’re growing up happy, and that’s...incredible, really. After all of it. 

“Hey.” Jamie tilts her body until Dani tilts with her, coming away from the counter enough for Jamie to close the distance. Her hands are soft on the back of Dani’s head. So steady. So present. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh no,” Dani says, unable to help herself. Jamie’s brow wrinkles, her tongue poking out, and Dani kisses her before the joke has time to sting. 

“Serious, Poppins. This is serious.”

“Right. Sorry.” She arranges her own face in a parody of solemn contemplation. Jamie rolls her eyes. “No, go ahead. I’m listening.”

She slides her hands under the flannel of Jamie’s shirt, letting her fingers splay across Jamie’s ribs. She’s always liked this, right here, the sense that Jamie is more real than anything in the world. More real than night terrors. More real than the heartbeat she sometimes hears in the back of her head when she’s been standing still too long. 

“You’re distracting, is what you are,” Jamie says, sounding the least upset about it she possibly could. Dani hums. 

“Stalling.”

“I was thinking,” Jamie repeats, eyes rolling toward the ceiling in a show of great restraint when Dani presses her hips forward. “We’ve seen an awful lot of this barbaric country you call home.”

“We call home,” Dani points out, grinning. Jamie nods. 

“But. S’been a minute, hasn’t it? Since we’ve seen what they’re up to across the pond. I was thinking, maybe--if you’re up for it, mind--we could...ring up Owen? See if he’s willing to bear a couple of grungy wanderers on his doorstep for a couple of days...”

It’s a distraction, Dani knows. Just something to get her mind off of the kids, of the truly palpable sense that something huge and important is beginning to drift too far out to catch. And yet...

The months roll into years. The years are quiet. They’ve been quiet so much longer than she thought she’d have. But somewhere deep down, somewhere beneath miles and miles of long kisses and meandering car rides and Jamie burning every other dinner they scrounge together...there’s something still down there, she knows. Waiting. Watching. 

“Lot more postcards out there,” Jamie says, with the light and airy tone of someone who knows Dani is looking over the edge of something too dark and too deep to climb back out of. “Could send an awful lot more, is all I’m saying.”

Sure. Sure, they could. There’s so much world out there, so much to see. She’d like to see it all, if only she had the time. She’d like to see every last inch. 

And maybe...maybe it’ll be enough. To keep moving. To keep their world spinning too long, too fast, for the beast to catch up with. She can’t know for sure. Jamie says it often enough, and she’s not wrong: Dani will never be able to say how much longer the running can last. 

But for now? While the beast holds still, and those kids still hold her name, and Jamie holds her like nothing else in the world matters?

“I think I’d like that,” she says, and feels steadier than she has in years. 

[myownworstenemyyy]

can I request “I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…that wasn’t true.” with javi :)

edit: this is Part 1 of the Crystal Clear series

feeling angsty, are we, nonny? 😏 i was so excited to write this one! I hope you like it and mayhaps a part 2 is in the works 😉💕💜💜

prompt from this list: “I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…that wasn’t true.”

word count: 1.7k (gif by @bestintheparsec)

warnings: swearing (obvi) ; cheating on someone ? kinda briefly ? (idk man)

masterlist | also, this fic was heavily inspired by the song Crystal Clear from the beautiful Hayley Williams 🥰

AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“I wanna make it crystal clear that I won't give in to the fear.”

The Texas heat is always unforgiving this time of year. But your garden was starting to look horrendous, so you had decided to just suck it up and get some yard work done. Now, as you kneel in the dirt, your gloved hands deep in the soil and back aching from bending over for so long, you think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. 

The sound of rocks shifting under heavy footsteps has you looking over your shoulder to see a figure approaching. You raise your hand to shield your eyes from the sun shining so brightly behind the stranger, their silhouette being the only thing you can make out. “Can I help you?” you say in a polite, yet cautious voice. 

Your heart nearly stops when an all-too-familiar baritone replies, “Hola, bonita,” as he stops a few feet in front of you - well, technically behind you. Slowly rising to your feet, your eyes fully adjust to the sunlight as you take in the sight of the first man you ever fell in love with. Javier.

He mostly looks the same, save for the slight tan of his skin, along with a few worry lines and wrinkles that have formed over the years since he-

Since he left you.

“Javier,” you state, your voice betraying you when it cracks on the last syllable. What is he doing here? When did he - come back?  

The silence drags on as the two of you study each other, though his expression is much softer than your confused one. “What are you doing here?” you ask at the same time he says, “You look good.” He chuckles, the sound making your stomach flip as your cheeks flush. 

That laugh - god, it’s been so long since you’ve heard it, the last time being the night before he left for Columbia to aid in the capture of Pablo Escobar. Though at the time, you didn’t actually know it would be the last time you’d see him for years to come. You didn’t learn that bit of information until the next morning when you woke up to find a letter in your mailbox - a short apology for his sudden departure. 

But you’d suspected it was more like “fleeing,” especially after you’d told him how you truly felt about him just the night before. Though you suppose you should’ve known better - Javier Peña never was a man who could be committed to one woman for longer than a few nights. Even if that woman was you - his best friend since elementary school. 

Lost in reminiscent thoughts of the two of you together, you don’t notice Javier taking a couple steps closer to where you’re standing. “I just got back a couple days ago and...I needed to see you,” he looks away for a moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Well, at least he has the decency to look ashamed.

“OK, you’ve seen me. Now you can go,” you turn around and head towards the front door to your house, leaving your garden a half-done mess. You’ve just reached the first step of the porch when he reaches for your wrist, “Wait - I...I’m sorry, for leaving.”

Releasing a weary sigh, you turn and face him again, his eyes filled with sincerity and something akin to desperation. Your heart instinctively aches to comfort him, but you know that’s not your place - not anymore. “Why?” you ask quietly and the regret lining his features tells you he knows you’re not just referring to why he’s sorry, but why he actually left in the first place without so much as a good-bye. Because you both know you didn’t deserve to find out he was leaving from some piece of paper left on your fucking doorstep.

“I didn’t know how to tell you - that I was assigned to the unit in Columbia. And I couldn’t face you - not after everything you’d said...about-”

“I remember,” you cut him off, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. You bite your bottom lip as it threatens to quiver, the emotions you’ve been suppressing for so long rising to the surface. “You broke my fucking heart, Javi,” your voice breaks, barely above a whisper, as a tear glides down your cheek.

“I know,” he admits in a voice just as softly as he closes his eyes for a moment, releasing a shaky breath, “God, I know, bonita. I - I always made you think your feelings for me were totally one-sided…” he takes a deep breath, sliding his hand down your wrist and holding your right hand in both of his, “but...that wasn’t true,” he confesses, his words landing like a punch to the gut.

Your breath hitches when you finally process what he’s said, the meaning behind his words gripping your heart like a vise. He...feels the same way? 

His dark eyes search yours, pleading for you to understand - for you to forgive him. But you’ve fallen speechless as you try to think of a response, barely able to voice a weak, “W-what?” 

As you remain in a state of shock, Javi reaches for your other hand, coming to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Bonita, I-” he starts but then his brow furrows as he looks down at your left hand, his fingers feeling for something under your gardening glove. 

The look of realization on his face is what finally snaps you out of your trance-like state. You swallow hard as you remove the glove from your left hand, bringing it up closer to eye level to show him-

“I’m engaged,” you croak out, your words laced with regret, and you quickly push away every thought rushing to the forefront of your mind. You refuse to acknowledge any bit of reasoning as to why your heart is breaking from sharing the news of your engagement with the man who basically just confessed his love for you.

“Oh,” he swallows hard, his gaze fixated on the simple diamond that suddenly feels like it’s cutting off circulation to your finger. His grip loosens as he releases your hands, wiping his own hand down his face as he turns away, muttering, “Of course you are - soy más pendejo,” he trails off, his back facing you.

You're frozen at the bottom of the porch, clutching your gardening glove to the point of making your knuckles ache. His hands rest on his hips, his head dropping for a moment as he takes one, two, three breaths before turning to face you once more. 

Your heart begins to race as he watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Though, the sadness in his eyes is impossible to miss. 

Clenching his jaw, he nods his head once like he’s come to some kind of decision. “Felicidades, bonita. I hope your prometido knows how lucky he is,” he offers a tight-lipped smile before turning on his heel and walking away. It takes a minute for your legs to finally spring into action as you stumble after him, “Javi, wait!” you drop the glove on the ground, no longer caring about the mess in your front yard.

He skids to a stop but remains facing forward, his shoulders tense. Walking around his brooding figure, you face him head-on, “It’s been years since I’ve even heard from you, Javi - you can’t just-” you shake your head incredulously, all the hurt and confusion from his abandonment manifesting itself as anger, “you don’t get to do this to me. You don’t just get to leave, come back and say you have feelings for me - and then fucking leave again!” 

Your chest rises and falls with the same fierce intensity coating your words, but you refuse to back down, “Why did you even come here if you were just gonna leave the minute I rejected you? I mean, what the hell was I supposed to do after you left? Sit around and sulk because my best friend - the man I love - decided to take a job in Columbia, and didn’t even say good-bye?!” 

Your hands fly to your hair in frustration as you start to pace up and down the sidewalk, angry tears welling in your eyes. No, I’m not crying over him again - I did enough of that when he left. But the memory of you sitting on the hardwood floor in your living room, clutching his letter to your chest as you sobbed for hours, has fresh tears spilling onto your cheeks.

“‘Love’, not… ‘loved’?” he asks carefully as he watches you closely, holding his breath while you wipe your face clean with the front of your shirt. You look at him with a furrowed brow, “What?” The adrenaline from your outburst is quickly fading, exhaustion taking its place.

After a beat, you meet his eyes, which are swimming with emotion as he elaborates, “You said ‘the man I love’... not ‘the man I loved.” His face gives nothing away, but you're taken aback when you see an echo of something in his eyes - hope.

You slowly shake your head, “Javi-” but he cuts you off with a desperate plea.

“Please, just-” he takes a step toward you, his hands reaching out to lightly grip your arms, “tell me - tell me you feel nothing for me anymore and I'll leave you alone...for good.” And from the pained look plaguing his features, you know he’ll keep that promise - he'll walk out of your life, taking all the pain and sorrow he’s caused you along with him.

You grip his forearm with a shaky hand, holding onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to this moment. Your lip trembles and his brow furrows deeper in concern as your breathing picks up, your entire being overwhelmed by the emotions boiling over within you.

“I...can't,” you breathe out, looking into his dark eyes as you bring your hands to his face, your fingers hesitantly stroking his cheek. His chest is rising and falling to the same tempo as yours, his lips slightly parted as you trace your fingers over his bottom lip, mesmerized by the curve and slight pout that permanently lives there.

“Bonita-” but it's your turn to interrupt him, only this time it's not with words. You cradle his face in your hands and push up on the tips of your toes until your lips meet his - and the rest of the world fades away.

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

Translations:

bonita - pretty / beautiful

soy más pendejo  - I'm the biggest dumbass 😂

Felicidades - Congratulations

prometido - fiance

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

tag list: (let me know if you wanna be added/removed)

@spacegayofficial @themandjalorian @hiscyarika @mandoispunk @madadlorian @pedrolorians @forever-rogue @longitud-de-onda @certifiedskywalker @dindjarindiaries @no-droids-allowed @aerynwrites @buckyodinson @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gooddaykate @fanfiction-trashpile @arrowswithwifi @letaliabane @thinemineours @ham4arrow @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @thisainttheway @bluemoon-glen @katialvi  @bestintheparsec @24kgolden @livasaurasrex @c-ly-g @triggerhappyflyboyy @fangirl-and-stuff @mrsparknuts @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @kimljn @kristalhi @fatbottomedcurls @auty-ren @mabelleen @rzrcrst @pascalisthepunkest @blushingwueen @lovingtheway @beskars @mandoandyodito @roxypeanut @rosamedina92 @sinnamon-bun @ct-arc-5555 @keeper0fthestars @poe-pascal @spacemacandcheese @destucky45 @marvelwars @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @frietiemeloen @waywardodysseys @thick-dick-daddy-mando @haildoodles-writing @walkerchick007 @miraelles

[solitaria-fantasma]

Um for the Super Ghost AU I am just imagining that The Question managed to figure out basically everything about Gawain and the Mystery Skulls, but instead of it being his paranoia getting to him it's because he accidentally learned Gawain was a ghost, wanted to learn why he's a ghost and then he was going down the rabbit hole and by the time he climbed out of it he's just wondering what is Gawain's life, unlife, whatever and the life of his brother. Just, this came to me and refused to leave.

((*cracks knuckles*))

Question hadn't seen sunlight for nearly six days, and it had finally paid off.

He leaned over his hands on the edge of the desk, staring at the pin board before him. It was crisscrossed with color coded strands of yarn, and little push pins that held up photographs, newspaper and magazine clippings, and printed Internet screenshots. It wasn't the most complicated web he'd ever built, but it tied up neatly, and that was enough. Not every mystery had a a million twists to unwind.

The trail started in London, England, and stretched all the way across the Atlantic to a tiny town in Texas, USA, barely large enough to be a speck on a map. He had birth records, school enrollment records, science fair awards, promotions, Visa applications, mortgages, home appliance purchases, swing dance trophies, company picnic photos, a missing person's report, and an obituary, all leading to a giant question mark scribbled over a photo of a young blond man, with the word 'whereabouts?' written beneath it.

This photo connected to the next item in the chain with a quick arrow of blue, and another long, arching arrow connected a birth record from earlier in this leg to the same thing - a newspaper article from that small Texas town, talking about the mysterious case of a young boy with amnesia being found on the steps of a local restaurant. There was an article about the boy's adoption just a few months later, and then another article congratulating three local kids and their dog for solving a small time mystery.

The chain ran through several articles like this one, and the kids grew older as their mysteries evolved from misplaced mail and lost pets to package theft, poltergeist activity, and cryptid sightings. More and more, the articles talked about ghosts, creatures of urban legend, and even sightings of demons and occult activity. Around 2008, the newspaper articles became printed blog posts, and seemed to be written by the kids themselves.

Question laughed quietly to himself. Kids after his own paranoid heart, all three.

The articles came to an abrupt halt in 2014, with a missing persons report for the amnesiac boy (now an adult), and a series of articles about a groundbreaking prosthetic limb, developed by a genius young man who tested his prototype on himself after tragically loosing his own arm. There were a few more articles about the prosthetic, and a few photos to go along with them that showed the blond man from previous articles, and then there were a few clippings of local tabloids from a truck driver who swore he'd been carjacked by 'a flaming skeleton with great fashion sense'.

There was silence for a month or two, and then concurrent newspaper articles and blog posts about the miraculous return of one Lewis Pepper, thought to be dead from the same tragic caving accident that cost his best friend his arm. The blog posts about the supernatural returned, and the prosthesis research seemed to slow down. Coincidentally, a young man named 'Merlin Knight' with an eerily familiar face was hired at the local auto shop.

Question wondered if the entire town was playing dumb, or just stupid. The only real change was the clothing, and that long blond hair being braided.

This employment record connected all the way back to the obituary from the first leg of the chain, and proceeded on to connect with screenshots from a social media account of a robotic body, and the building of what would be, within a few month's time, the town's own local hero.

Question breathed out through his nose. A local hero who would go on to help save the world, and found the Justice League itself. Had that been part of the plan?

The web wrapped itself up quickly from there. Supernatural skills and abilities not possible by modern science, knowledge of other realms and creatures only known to mythology, and the tiny little clues he'd been hoarding and observing for a full year all pointed to the same conclusion. It wasn't as fantastical as it sounded, in all honesty, though Green Arrow had looked at him stranger than usual when he'd first said his conclusion out loud.

There were legitimate aliens, sorcerers, and demons in this reality - why not ghosts, too?

There was one final piece missing from the web, however, and he was out of clues to tie in. There was a near twenty year gap between the last known sighting of Gawain Kingsmen, and the appearance of 'Merlin Knight'. What had the man been doing for all that time? There had been no sightings of anyone even remotely matching the appearance of Gawain or 'Merlin' anywhere in that time, and without even the slightest whisper of a rumor on an Internet forum or library archive, there wasn't much more he could do to find out.

Question straightened up from the desk, and rolled his shoulders to try and stretch them out. There was no way around it.

He was going to have to get more...direct from here on out.

.......

"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Gawain froze with a potato wedge half-raised to his shoulder at the question, and Bran - unwilling to wait for her snack - leaned her head down to snatch it up anyway. Gawain turned his yellow LED eyes over to Question, who had planted himself in the chair across the table without so much of a 'hello', and tilted his head.

"...I'm sorry," He apologized. "But I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I know you do." Question leaned one elbow on the table. Bran nudged Gawain's still-raised hand, hoping for more potatoes, and the hero absently picked up another wedge to feed to her. "I know most people believe the 'advanced AI' cover story, but I'm not most people. I know you're a ghost possessing an armored suit like that old anime." The potato wedge vanished, and Question wondered if the little ghost was actually eating it, or just storing it for later.

That was a mystery for another time, regardless.

Gawain had turned to face him fully, now, and his two other ghostly companions were now peeking out of hiding from behind his shoulders. They weren't hostile, but their stares were, nonetheless, intense, and Question smiled behind his mask. He knew he had their full attention, now.

"How did you find out?" Gawain asked, keeping his voice low.

"I saw you from the ground in that fight with Mr. Sorcerer Superior, Magnus Creed." Question replied. "You ran into that warding slip like a bird into a clean window. A robot wouldn't have been stopped by mere paper and superstition." Gawain tilted his head slightly to one side.

"Some superstitions hurt." He argued, just the slightest bit defensive. "...what was your question, again?"

"What does a dead man do for twenty years?" Question asked. "There's a two decade gap between your presumed death and your reappearance. You could stand to work on that secret identity, by the way." He advised. "Someone's going to notice your resemblance to a dead guy from twenty years ago, if you ever let down your hair." Gawain's LED eyes narrowed, and one of the spirits - Chopper, the one with the upright spines - hissed in response.

Vixen walked by with John Stewart at her side, and both Chopper and Gawain made a visible effort to drop any outward signs of irritation. Question remained where he was. People were used to seeing him tense and suspicious, by now. It wouldn't raise a single eyebrow.

"...I was lost." Gawain spoke up quietly once Vixen and John had passed out of earshot. "I woke up in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, and I just couldn't get out. Not for a while."

"You were lost in a forest for twenty years?" Even Question sounded skeptical. "I've seen what you're capable of. You should have been able to handle a little thing like being lost."

"It was ten years," Gawain retorted sharply. Bran raided his plate for the remaining potato wedges. "And I wasn't just...born being able to do that stuff. I had to grow into it. I had to learn." A strange gust of air blew past the table, scattering someone's forgotten paper plate and napkin to the floor, before Gawain unclenched his fists, and visibly calmed down. Question still didn't move.

"Death...does things to you." Gawain lowered his voice again. "To your mind. You can't think straight for...a long time - and that's if you're lucky." He lowered his hands to the table, and Bran automatically wound herself around one arm with a pleased sound. "I found my way out of the forest after ten yes, and then I went...home. To Tempo."

"Your parents had moved away by then." Question knew. He knew how the story of the living family had played out, from there. "Your brother was living with your uncle, and your friends were off at college." Gawain's shoulders drooped, and the third spirit - Griflet, if he remembered right - patted at the side of his helmet sympathetically. Chopper was still glaring at him.

"They had." Gawain made no effort to hide the disappointment in his voice. "I guess I couldn't fault them for not wanting to stay in town after all they went through, but back then, I didn't know it had been ten years. It only felt like a few days, to me."

"That must have been difficult." Question said, and he meant it. Sympathy wasn't really his thing, but Gawain was being cooperative, so it was the least he could do. "And the other ten?"

"I was hiding." Gawain laughed humorlessly. "I somehow convinced myself that my family-...that my brother, and my uncle, would be afraid of me, if they saw me like that, and I just...never came forward." He shrugged. "I just sort of watched, and listened, and followed them for another ten years, and I thought that was pretty good, you know?

"I couldn't interact with them, sure, but at least I could still see them. It was...better than nothing." The hero fell silent, for a few moments, and then looked Question in the eye. Or...as close as he could get. The featureless mask tended to throw off people's frame of reference for facial features. "What are you going to do now?"

"Absolutely nothing." Question casually leaned back in his own chair. "I've already put the pieces together. This was just the last piece I needed to finish the story." He stood up, and pushed the chair in under the table. "This time, I just wanted to satisfy my own curiosity." Gawain seemed surprised, and remained sitting as Question walked out of the cafeteria.

He could feel four pairs of eyes burning into his back, but for once, being watched didn't bother him. Curiosity killed the cat, they said, but satisfaction brought it back, and Question was very much satisfied with this answer.

Now, he could focus on more important matters...like the long-ignored connection between Girl Scout cookie sales and the appearance of crop circles in Midwest America.

[holy-honeybees]

Snowdrift

AO3

Rating: T+ (for swearing)

Summary: Three friends and  their dog get lost in a snowstorm while investigating the paranormal. Amidst swirling flurries of white, some lose their way and get lost in their memories, others lose sight of their friends and loved ones, and an unforgiving winter quickly fills in the footprints one would follow to get back home.

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Chapter One

Chapter Eight

Arthur struggled through the ever-deepening snowdrifts, hunched over as he braced himself against the wind. The fingers on his right hand were already frozen and stiff, and the metal of his prosthetic was so cold it burned where it met the remaining flesh of his arm. He cursed his stupidity for having gone outside in a blizzard with no coat or hoodie. Even with his vest zipped up and his hands tucked under his armpits, he shivered so hard the mechanic felt he might shake apart at any moment. Arthur wondered just what had prompted him to leave the safety of the van without proper protection from the cold. He’d like to think he had some self-preservation skills, though his recent actions had done little to support that claim, and he was sure Vivi at the very least would outright challenge the statement.

I have to find Mystery, he reminded himself. He couldn’t remember why it was so urgent that he find the kitsune though, only that it was. He’d long ago lost sight of the white shape in front of him, and Arthur had to wonder if he was even going in the right direction anymore. Still, he pushed onwards, compelled to keep moving forwards even if he didn’t understand why.

I have to find Mystery. The phrase had become a mantra he repeated with every step, a reminder of his single-minded purpose. Between the wind shrieking in his ears and the constant chattering of his teeth, he could hardly put together a cohesive thought outside of trying to locate his friend. He knew he should try harder to figure out what was happening and why he was out here, but he was so tired, and the cold was mind-numbing.

I have to find Mystery. Something nagged at the back of his mind that besides being hopelessly lost and half-frozen, something else wasn’t right. Some unnamed threat which loomed in the darkness. He just couldn’t recognize what it was. The temperature outside plummeted even further, and a particularly icy blast of air seemed to freeze him to the very core. Arthur shivered, not just due to the bitter cold, but from memories he’d buried long ago as they began to resurface.

---

It had been a long drive to reach Uncle Lance’s home in Tempo, and the hours spent under the summer sun had caused the temperature inside the car to climb to an almost unbearable degree. His dad had told him that rolling down the windows was just as good as running the air conditioning, but Arthur was unconvinced. He was beginning to suspect that Uncle Lance didn’t call the old station wagon his father drove “lemon” just because of its bright yellow paint. For the first half of their trip, Arthur had done his best to distract himself from the heat by playing with his Game Boy Color, and after its batteries had died, he’d resorted to trying to keep cool by letting the wind blow through his hair, his arm dangling out the open window. At least, up until his father had laughed and said that was a good way to lose a limb. Arthur had promptly yanked his arm back inside the car and, despite the sweltering Texas heat and his dad assuring him he’d only been joking, rolled up the window for good measure. By the end of the journey, they were both covered in sweat and even his dad’s sunny disposition had begun to waver.

As the door to his uncle’s home swung inward, the blast of cool air that washed over him made Arthur shiver in relief. Lance usually accepted his brother’s unannounced visits with practiced ease, welcoming them in with a rough “get in here before you let the cool air out” and strong-armed, back-slapping hugs. They would come by when his dad was between gigs as a roadie sometimes or when the car needed repairs. This particular visit felt different though. There were no bone-breaking, lift-you-off-the-ground hugs between the two brothers, no boisterous laughter as they greeted each other. Instead, Lance had merely met them both with a dark, raised eyebrow, the stout man nearly eyelevel with his scrawny, preteen nephew. Maybe it was because it was so hot out and they were both sweaty, or maybe they’d come at a bad time. Either way, the tense situation made Arthur shift uncomfortably, the added weight of his heavy backpack threatening to throw him off balance. They must be staying for a while this time. Arthur had almost everything he owned crammed into the old bag he lugged around, the zippers threatening to burst under the strain. As usual, his dad hadn’t done any packing of his own, and would probably end up heading out to the car half a dozen times throughout the night to grab various items, Uncle Lance grumbling good-naturedly the whole time.

“Hey, buddy,” his dad said, ruffling his hair, “Me and your uncle are going to go check out the car, take a look under the hood. Why don’t you go get settled in? We can order some pizza for dinner later.” Arthur meekly nodded his head and shuffled past his uncle in the doorway, eager to escape the tense atmosphere that no one was acknowledging. The old mechanic twitched his lips up into a brief smile as Arthur passed, which the young boy nervously returned. His uncle’s serious, gruff nature was intimidating at times. When Arthur had first met the taciturn man, he worried that Uncle Lance didn’t like him. His dad had laughed off his concerns though and told him that’s just how Lance was, and without kids of his own, his uncle would simply need some time to get used to him.

Arthur passed through the familiar hallways of his uncle’s home until he reached the spare room he and his dad usually stayed in. Normally, it served as a kind of office or storage space for Uncle Lance’s business, with instruction manuals, receipts, and spare parts scattered amongst a few personal items. There was an old wrestling belt and a framed picture of Arthur and his father on the wall above the sleeper sofa they used. The bed was already folded out and made up with clean sheets and pillows, and Arthur wondered if their spontaneous visit had truly been unexpected. His dad had announced their trip a couple of days ago, and they’d been on the road driving to their destination ever since. Arthur had gone out to get some ice for their motel room and come back to see his father deep in conversation on the old telephone the room came with. Arthur didn’t think he’d ever seen his dad so serious. His father had cutoff midsentence once he’d spotted Arthur, looking inexplicably guilty before saying a hurried goodbye to whoever was on the other line. The young boy could only make out the speaker’s agitated tone of voice, distorted by the crummy receiver, before his dad hung up the phone. With his father’s usual smile plastered back on his face, everything seemed to have returned to normal, and Arthur was told to pack his things because they would be leaving first thing in the morning to visit his uncle.

Now that they had arrived, Arthur couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong, like he was missing something. Some vital clue he should have picked up on that would have helped him to make sense of what was going on around him. He shouldered his backpack off onto the bed, intent on starting to unpack his things. Instead, he only worried at the zippers, his thoughts too troubled to focus on the task at hand. He felt as if there was an answer right in front of him that he just couldn’t see. After several fruitless minutes, Arthur gave up on unpacking his bag and left to find his father and uncle. He wandered through his uncle’s home, searching for the two adults, before being drawn to the garage door by the sounds of an argument. Despite being nervous about being caught eavesdropping, Arthur pressed his ear to the door to listen.

“Just think about what yer doin’ for once, Percy,” Uncle Lance said in a low, dangerous voice.

“It’s just going to be for a little while,” Arthur’s father replied, his usual cheerful tone sounding strained.

“You an’ I both know that’s not true!”

“This latest gig will last a month or two, tops,” his dad said, and then, after the slightest of pauses, so small Arthur could almost convince himself he’d imagined it, “Then I’ll be back.”

“No,” Lance insisted stubbornly, “I know that look in yer eye, I seen it before. Saw it when my baby brother up an’ dropped out of high school, hit the road, an’ didn’t drop his family a line for a full year to even let us know he was alright!” Arthur’s dad sighed heavily.

“Look, Arthur’s starting to grow up, you know? The whole ‘on-the-road’ lifestyle isn’t really doin’ him any favors. He’s smart, but there’s only so much I can teach him. Kid doesn’t really have any friends, either. He could really benefit from going to school, meeting kids his age and getting a real education.”

“If this is really about his best interests, why don’t you stay here with him?” Lance pressed, “Settle down finally. Get a steady job in town. Hell, I’ll hire you.” The only response was silence.

“Yer not leaving Arthur here so he can ‘grow up’,” Lance growled, “Yer stickin’ me with yer kid so you don’t have to!”

“I don’t know what I’m doing! I didn’t plan on becoming a parent!” His father shouted angrily.

“You are one though, an’ yer not gonna figure this one out by runnin’ away from it!”

“I’m trying, okay? If it was just about keeping him fed or entertained or whatever, it’d be fine, but…he’s different. I thought he’d outgrow it, but that last show I worked, you know, with that rock band? He had one of his…fits halfway through the set. He kicked up such a fuss they had to stop the show and everything. The guys on stage were cool about it, but, well… Would do him some good to have someone like you help toughen him up.”

“Percy, I know you’ve got yerself convinced yer doing what’s best for him, but that’s not what it looks like from my perspective, and that certainly ain’t what it’s gonna look like from his. Of all the selfish, irresponsible—”

“I love my son!”

“I’m not the one yer gonna have to try an’ convince if you go through with this.”

The rest of the argument was lost to the ringing in his ears as Arthur quickly backed away from the garage. So there was something wrong. What was worse, it seemed like it had something to do with him. He retraced his steps to the spare room, his breath coming in progressively shorter gasps. He’d had episodes like this before. “Fits”, his dad called them. It happened from time to time at the concerts his father worked, like when the music was too loud or there were too many strangers crowded around him, though those hadn’t been the only incidents. One time had left him feeling so dizzy and lightheaded afterwards, his dad had taken him to an emergency room. The doctor who had given him a checkup had called it a “panic attack”, suggesting they reach out to a specialist to talk. He never got the chance though, their transient lifestyle requiring them to leave town the very next day. His dad tried his best to help, telling him to relax and dismissing his fears as silly, but Arthur just couldn’t do the same.

With his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest, Arthur closed the door to the spare room behind him and promptly dumped out the contents of his backpack onto the bed, frantically searching for anything that might help calm him down. His eyes settled on his Game Boy and he snatched it off the bed before sitting down on the floor. With its batteries run down, he wouldn’t be able to distract himself by playing a game, but there was something comforting and familiar about holding the small dandelion-colored console nonetheless. He ran his thumb over the control pad—up, right, down, left—again and again. Gradually his breathing slowed, and the fuzzy edges receded from his vision. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and Uncle Lance entered the room, frowning as he did so.

“You alright, kid?” his uncle asked, “Yer lookin’ kinda pale.”

“Y-Yeah, just cool-cool-cool—” Arthur shook his head, trying to dislodge the word he’d gotten stuck on.

“Cooling off,” he finished lamely.

“…Alright. Well, pizza’s on its way. Should be here in about thirty minutes. Yer dad ordered the usual,” Lance said gruffly. Arthur gulped and nodded his head. His stomach felt as if it was twisted up in knots, and the thought of eating anything made him feel vaguely queasy. His uncle paused for a moment, as if to say something else, before giving up with a sigh and walking away.

The pizzas arrived right on time, and long before Arthur was ready. He, his dad, and his uncle all sat around the small kitchen table Lance owned, paper plates loaded up with hot, greasy pizza slices. His dad joked and laughed, smiling the whole time, as if nothing were wrong. Uncle Lance barely said a word, only letting out the occasional grunt, while Arthur nibbled half-heartedly at the pizza in front of him. They’d ordered the Meatzilla and Atomic Aloha, with extra pineapple and jalapeño peppers, Uncle Lance and his father’s favorite pizzas respectively. Normally, Arthur was happy to share with his Uncle Lance, the Atomic Aloha being too spicy for him to enjoy, but now the pizza he did force down sat heavily in his guts. When they’d all finished eating and Lance cleaned the paper plates and used napkins off the table, his dad had asked him to stay behind. His father told him that he had a new gig, but this time, Arthur was going to stay behind with Uncle Lance, just for a couple of months while he was gone. Arthur wanted to tell him not to go, but he simply nodded along, his thoughts muddled and his stomach churning unhappily.

His father left within the hour, assuring him that he would be back soon and that he loved him very much. He ruffled Arthur’s hair as walked out the door, leaving the young boy behind to sit on the couch with his uncle in the living room. Uncle Lance opened his mouth as if to speak several times, but always closed it with an uncertain look in his eye, the silence instead filled by reruns of old wrestling matches playing on the TV quietly. Eventually, Arthur excused himself, saying he was turning in for the night. He entered the spare room and flopped down on the bed, not even bothering to clear away the contents of his backpack he’d haphazardly dumped on top of the sheets. He curled up and cried, tossing and turning miserably as the pizza he’d eaten failed to settle in his stomach. The harder he cried, the worse he felt, and the sick feeling grew until Arthur had no choice but to rush to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He was still kneeling by the toilet, the cool tiles of the floor pressed against his hands and knees, when he felt a hesitant hand, rough and calloused, pat him on the back.

“It’s okay,” Uncle Lance said, “I’ve got you.”

---

Released from the grip of his memories, Arthur found himself kneeling in the snow. The cold seeped even deeper into his bones with his arms and legs sunk way down into the snowbank. The mechanic struggled back to his feet and scanned the horizon for his forgotten destination.

I have to find Mystery, Arthur reminded himself, tucking his arms tight against his body as he resumed his steadfast march. His breath fogged before him, looking like a silver mist that disappeared just as quickly as the memory had. He couldn’t even recall what it was he’d been thinking about despite the tears frozen on his face. Something about when he’d come to live with Uncle Lance. But hadn’t he always lived with his uncle? He just couldn’t remember. He pushed the doubts and confusion from his mind as he continued to trudge numbly through the snow.

I have to find Mystery.

He felt raw and weary, like an exposed nerve. Where were the others? Why had he been left behind? Abandonment had always been an issue for him, though he didn’t understand why. Uncle Lance had always been there for him. Still, whatever had caused that fear to take root was only exasperated after Lewis and Vivi had started dating.

I have to find…

It had been hard seeing them so happy together. It left Arthur with a complex mix of emotions where he was glad for his friends yet jealous at the same time, which gave way to shame for feeling so awful when he should have been excited and supportive. He was just waiting for the day they’d tell him they didn’t want him around or need him anymore. He’d been distancing himself slowly so that when the time came maybe, maybe it wouldn’t hurt quite so much. Instead, it just made him more miserable to see how happy his friends were without him. Then there was the cave.

I have to…

His weakness had let whatever that thing was take control of him. He could still only remember bits and pieces of what happened, even months later. Everything was hazy up to the point he woke up in a hospital bed without his arm, jumping out of his skin if Mystery so much as twitched an ear. Vivi was like a blank slate, and Lewis was missing.

I…I have to find Lewis.

Arthur watched as another thin stream of silver left his mouth, whirling away into the wind. He felt drained, his mind foggy. He must have found a lead to his missing best friend out here, wherever this was. Still, he’d wished he’d brought a coat or something. But if he could find his friend and bring him back, it’d be worth it, whatever it took. Arthur called out for Lewis as loudly as he could, the name broken into pieces by his stutter and chattering teeth. He had to be close by if he’d made the decision to leave Vivi and the van behind. Arthur kept shouting, his voice becoming hoarse as he sucked in deep lungfuls of frigid air, trying to be heard over the howling wind. A desperate sense of urgency fueled him, tinged with a guilt and remorse he couldn’t quite place, which nonetheless helped propel him onwards through the snow.

I have to find Lewis!

[arthurtristankingsmen]

*pokes head out of bushes* Hello I just found your blog and I already love you, so let me sing you the song of my people and throw a far reaching theory at you because I have so many thoughts right now. So, I watched The Future and I noticed the colors leaking out of Mystery's heart seem to correspond to people Mystery cares about (ex: blue for Vivi, and white for Shiro). ((1/???))

And whenever someone he cares about gets hurt, his heart becomes a little bit more damaged (and their corresponding color start's leaking out). Mystery also gains a tail. The tail gaining can be seen when Vivi gets hurt and when Shiro dies. Our fox dogo goes from 7 to 9 tails. Now going back to the heart- notice how there are 8 colors popping out it. If blue and white are Vivi and Shiro, then its safe to say that yellow and pink represent Arthur and Lewis. 

The reason why I say this is that- not only do the colors correspond- but in, Ghost, (when Mystery bites off Author's possessed arm) he is seen having six tails, and by Freaking Out and Hellbent 7. This gives me the notion that in the beginning, before the group entered the cave, Mystery had 5 tails. Then when he had to bite off Author's arm, he gained a 6th tail; and when he discovered Lewis's death a 7th sprouted. 

 Now going back to his heart. If 4 of the colors represent Vivi, Author, Lewis, and Shiro; then, what about the other 4? Well, if Mystery had 5 tails before entering the cave, it's safe to say that he had 4 painful experiences prior.

In Hellbent, there's a flashback where we see mystery sitting in (I'm assuming) one of Shiro's trees. In that flash back he has all nine tails. Also in Hellbent Viv's bat has a few talismans on it's handle, according to the wiki their Shinto omamori talismans. And considering that her grandmother is dressed like a shinto priestess- Vivi might be descended from a long line of priest and priestess. 

You maybe asking why I've mention this, well back in The Future, there appear to be 2 talisman like patches on Mystery's heart. It's possible that when Mystery joined up with Mushi, Mushi had to nerf his powers bringing his tails from 9 to 1. The reason for this? No clue but it would explain why he had 5 tails instead of 9. ((I'm sorry if this stuff seemed repetitive, I know other's have already said this but I felt like I had to build up for the crazy stuff. 6))

Now, to the far reaching part of this theory. So, after looking over Ghost again I noticed two things. 1, the shot where ??? possess half of Arthur- ??? seems to glare at Lewis before pushing him off. Afterwords raising his possessed hand bearing the ticked off symbol you see in anime. 2, the hand that ??? is possessing is the exact same color of green that's leaking out of mystery's heart. Coincidence? I think not! 

I am of firm belief that ??? has had it out for the mystery crew from the very beginning, or at least towards Lewis. Why else would ??? go out of it's way to wait in the cave (yes I believe it was in the bat) for the gang to show up when it could of posses anyone else, after all, I'm sure Arthur isn't the only person in the world that feels envy. Also who go out if it way to kill Lewis? If it just wanted a body, it could of waited and completely taken over Arthur. 

This brings us back to the heart. On Mushi’s character sheet it stats: ‘Her fate seems intertwined with the modern-day Vivi, but in what way currently remains a mystery’. I remember someone on here mentioning or interpreting it as Vivi having a parallel journey to Mushi’s. If that is the case, then what if Mushi went through the same thing Vivi when through. As in, Mushi’s lover was killed by a mutual friend. But, instead of being possessed, the friend really did mean to kill. 

Like back when Mystery had one tail, ??? was part of Mushi’s group. And like Arthur, they were jealous of whoever Mushi was with and killed them (or hurt them) causing Mushi and Mystery to retaliate resulting in ???’s death or banishment (causing Mystery to sprout a few tails). Hundreds of years later ??? stumbles across the Mystery Skulls and decides to take revenge. Idk, this was longer than expected. I will now return to the bushes. Sorry for spamming your inbox and thank you listening!

Hi wow!! first of all, thank you for the kind words! 

I was actually thinking similarly for most of this-- i noticed the colors and it relating to injuries too, but i wasn’t sure if it was related to bad enough injuries, or if it was ‘failure to protect’. I actually discussed the potential that Mystery grew two tails in the cave-- one being when Lewis died, which put him at six, and then the next when he removed Arthur’s arm, so the portrait is a moment before the next tail grew. I think the one tail is Mystery’s first he was born with, and that would probably be the one that’s inverse colors compared to the rest- it’s kinda close to his pallet color wise and looks different, and each of the others corresponds to a color.

I could certainly see given the ancestor felt like they were hunting Shiromori and Mystery, the family having some connection to dealing with spirits! The grandma apparently wouldn’t have let Vivi keep Mystery herself where her dad did, because apparently the dad isn’t ‘superstitious’ and white dogs are a bad sign iirc? So maybe it was a familial thing but Vivi’s dad stepped away from that kind of tradition instead, but most of vivi’s ancestor’s have been affiliated with spirit things, be it stabbing them with a sword or something more shinto related haha.

I still have my thoughts on if that kitsune is truly mystery due to some details, but honestly, I could see if that is Mystery, Mushi having to do something like that. I don’t know for sure, but it’s an interesting thought and would at least be a reason Mystery has the tags there.

The idea that they did have some kind of connection beforehand is really interesting though! They did say that there would be some kind of parallel to mushi’s story, but they definitely don’t elaborate. It’s possible it’s just associating/needing to fight a nine-tailed Mystery, and even fighting shiromori, or even just meaning they have a connection to one another kinda similar to reincarnation of sort....but it’s also possible it’s related to another aspect of Vivi that has happened, being the cave in a way.

Personally, I don’t think Arthur was jealous. I headcanon that Lewis and Vivi’s relationship was new, and Arthur felt left behind by how wrapped up in each other they became-- in the cave he was anxious and if he was already feeling insecure, those emotional vulnerabilities made him a target. But that opening might have even been a chance for ??? to enact it’s own jealousy in a way arthur would never even be tempted in.

The only struggle I find is how ??? ended up in middle of nowhere cave in tempo texas from probably japan, if that’s the case. But it’s entirely possible within the theory that ??? didn’t stumble on them by happenstance, and actually tracked them down, much like how shiromori was doing. 

It’s also possible in a different vein, that rather than it being something he failed to protect, that it is about damage and Mystery grew three tails in the cave-- if you subscribe to the thought arthur still is a bit possessed, and Mystery isn’t fully because of it (mainly because of the color scheme and the fact he has his red floof on the left side still) then maybe the green light is because of the damage he did to ??? as well, by rending it into pieces (one on in arthur, one in the arm)

It’s all really interesting theories and conjecture! 

[yeet-man]

One's Rebirth (Chapter 1)

A/N: So, this is the first chapter of my fanfiction. This boy named J'me gets trapped in My Hero Academia with some of his friends that are revealed later on. Anyway, J'me and his friends gotta figure out how to go home and let's just say they cause some problems to the timeline. Hope y'all enjoy!

At first, J'me always thought being in an anime would be awesome. That was until it happened to him, now you are probably wondering how he even ended up in an anime world. He isn't even sure about the details on how he got here, to begin with, but the last thing he remembers is going to bed. When he awoke he was a completely different world or so it seemed. 

He sat up in his bed and looked at the room he was in. It was much cleaner and extremely organized unlike his 'other room'.

He took the covers off and began to search the room to see what he could find. It was his room but yet in a different world? This didn't make any sense to him, how could this be his room but yet be in a different world? Many questions ran through his head trying to figure this out.

He turned to the window that was near his bedside, he walked up to it and closed his eyes. He was extremely nervous to open it, what would he see when he opened it? Would this change everything for him?

He pushed it open and opened his eyes. For all, he knew this would change his world for the better or for the worse for him.

He saw the beautiful area known as Tokyo, Japan. J'me took a step back as he was in disbelief, one minute he was in Texas but now he was in Japan? He was excited but yet confused at the same time. "Japan...the place that most anime I've seen take place but which anime am I in...?" He muttered to himself.

He took another step back to the window to see the art style of the anime world he was in. 

It looked very familiar to him, he thought about it and realized he was in the world of My Hero Academia. He jumped up and down out of excitement. "Yes! Yes! Yes! This shit is the fucking best!" He calmed down after a few minutes and began to think about it.

He put his hands on the back of his neck and looked up at the ceiling. "Where exactly am I in the My Hero Academia timeline? I hope I'm at the beginning of it...wait! What the hell is my quirk anyway?"

He put on his house shoes and ran out the room in his pajamas. "Mom! Mom! I need to ask you something." He had ran into the kitchen where his mother was.

"Isn't someone energetic today" she giggled lightly. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Um...could you tell me what my quirk is because I forgot hehe..."

She frowned at her child knowing he was a forgetful kid. "It's called Ultimate Fanboy sweetie."

He was confused at his quirk 'Ultimate Fanboy' what the fuck was that? He didn't want to question his mother any further he wanted to figure it out on his own. "Thanks mom" he gave his mom a hug and walked back to his room.

Upon getting to his room, J'me thought about what the quirk could be. If it had 'fanboy' in the name then it had to be from another anime right? "Watch it be that my quirk is from fucking Naruto" he chuckled to himself. He then held up a single hand sign from Naruto. It was known as 'Shadow Clone Jutsu' or 'Kage Bushin no Jutsu'. It was designed to make a clone or multiple clones.

A couple of seconds had passed when a huge puff of smoke suddenly entered the room. After that cleared out a clone could J'me could be seen next to him. J'me slowly turned his head to the right and saw the clone.

His eyes widen as if he was being killed and his mouth dropped open. He almost fell back on his ass but caught himself. He just looked at the clone in shock, he had guessed his quirk right. He was able to use jutsus from the Naruto series.

Minutes passed before he was able to recover from his shock. He stood up and walked over to the clone. 

He began to walk around the clone to check if it was actually real. He couldn't believe that he was truly able to use Naruto jutsus in My Hero Academia. Then again it was an anime world so technically anything was possible it in, so if his quirk allowed him to utilize Naruto things then whatever. 

He threw a punch at the clone to make it disappear. A second later it went 'poof' and vanished into a small cloud of smoke that cleared the room rather quickly. 

He laid down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling. "If I am able to use everything from Naruto. . .could I use the reanimation jutsu?" The reanimation jutsu also known as the Edo Tensei allows one to revive anyone if they have either their body of DNA of the people they are trying to revive.

As he was thinking about this question, his mom walked into his room. "Sweetie if you don't hurry up and get dressed you'll be late to your first day of U.A." There was a bit of happiness in her voice as she spoke.

"I'll be out in a couple minutes mom." He stood up off the bed and smiled. He was at the beginning of the My Hero Academia timeline or so he hoped.

His mother gave him a small smile, walked out of his room and closed the door on her way out.

He went into his closet and changed from his pajamas into his U.A. uniform. He looked into the mirror and gave it a cocky smile. "Today is the beginning of a new life that I'm fixing to smash out this damn park." 

He grabbed his bag and ran out of his room. As he ran past by the kitchen he shouted to his mother "bye mom I love you!" He got to the door opened it, ran out it and closed it behind him. He then proceeded to start making his way to U.A.

"If this is the real first day of class 1-A then that means the quirk assessment test is today..." Remembering what Bakugo had gotten which was 705.2 meters on the throwing part of it, J'me wanted to get a much higher score than him.

J'me was motivated, he truly was looking up to something for the first time in is life. He put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the beautiful cloudy sky. He listened to the tempo of everyone's pace so he knew when to step out of the way of people. He swiftly made his way through the large crowd that always filled Tokyo and got to U.A. Academy.

He looked at the enormous building and took av deep breath. "Here we go..." He slowly made this way inside the academy and to his class 1-A for his new adventure to begin.

Walking into the classroom J'me was nervous but excited at the same time. He didn't know what this new life had to offer which made him nervous. He looked around the classroom and spotted someone that he had never seen before.

She was sitting in a desk next to the window and at first glance, you would think she was the protagonist of the show. He looked at her for a few seconds trying to think of who she was, he thought that maybe the timeline had been altered a little bit since his arrival to the new world.

She was beautiful in his eyes but he didn't want to talk to her because of his own reasons. After enough staring J'me looked away before she noticed him and looked around the class. He took a seat in the back left corner of about three seats behind this mysterious woman and thought to himself. "If I'm being honest she has a big ass set of watermelons if people catch my drift."

He chuckled to himself and looked out the window. This was a new life and adventure for J'me and it was finally time to really start it.

[starlightdreams-blog]

Here is another chapter of "Love in the Broken Soul" Hope you will enjoy it!

_________________________________________

On The Road Again

One Year Later

In Tempo, Texas, the rays of the sun lit up light in an apartment, waking the inhabitants up. Mystery's eyes slowly opened and he let out a yawn as he stretched his legs out. Looking around, he smiled softly, teeth showing faintly as he looked at his two friends. On two beds which were on different sides of the room, two people were sleeping peacefully. On the left side of the room was Vivi. She woke up as she heard the sounds of birds chirping outside and the light that shown through the window. She turned her head to the right and smiled, seeing a metal arm resting on the desk near Arthur's bed.

On the right side of the room slept Arthur, who, after getting out of the hospital in two months after he was hospitalized and rebuilding his nearly cracked relationship with his parents, spent the last ten months working on his metal prosthetic arm and finally completed it the night before, only to immediately pass out at his desk before he could put it on to test the movements again.

Vivi giggled softly as she recalled carefully picking Arthur up and placing him in to bed, pulling the blankets over his fragile (and tone; he didn't have that bad of a body. Probably from working out and lifting heavy gear from being a mechanic at his Uncle Lance's shop) form, giving him a kiss on the forehead for a good night's sleep before Mystery jumped on to the mechanic's bed, dozing off, curling protectively beside the boy. She smiled sadly as her gaze went from Arthur's sleeping form to a picture that rested on the desk that was near her bed. A tear slid down her cheek, seeing a moment when they were all smiling and happy; when he was still alive. This was the only picture she decided to keep out; the rest of Lewis's stuff were sent to his family's house except for two personal objects.

Besides the picture, there was also a purple stuffed alpaca and a purple ascot resting on a shelf; both were gifts that she and Arthur gave him on his tenth birthday. Arthur asked Vivi why she had those items and she told him that they belonged to someone special to all of them, but she couldn't tell him their name because he saw them die and got amnesia from the trauma. That and he might faint with that weird glow again which she and Mystery are still concerned about. Arthur was confused about his friend's answer but left it at that, knowing he shouldn't pry into personal things that made Vivi teary eyed and Mystery bow his head down in grief, regret and sorrow.

After she got dressed, she walked over to the shelf and picked up the ascot, tying it around her blue hair. Once she did that, she walked in to the kitchen, got some omelettes ready in about ten minutes (she is so grateful for the Peppers for teaching her how to cook!) and opened up her phone after feeling it vibrate, seeing an email; someone was asking for help from the Mystery Skulls. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as she read more. She shut her phone off when she saw Arthur walked in, well rested, cleaned, dressed and his metal arm was on. He was also wearing a skull butterfly necklace with three small gems engraved in the front, glowing faintly. Before he got out of the hospital, Mystery went off in search of those gems which consists of healing the soul, protecting the mind and loving the body and spirit. He asked Vivi to get the charm to put them on and she got the necklace; she and Lewis planned to give it to Arthur after their love confession. It'll still mean it'll be a symbol of love between the three but it'll do as an protection charm until she tells him the truth. So what happened in the cave, doesn't happen again; no supernatural beings would ever try to take the blonde away from them again. Vivi had to stop her blush from showing because Arthur looked like a cute koala just waking up from it's nap. Geez, she really wants to tell him about her feelings soon... Maybe after solving this case she will do just that.

As he sat down and ate his food, he looked up and said, seeing the stern look on Vivi's face, "What's wrong, Viv?" Vivi looked at Arthur and said, as her look and voice softened, yet held a serious, concern tone inside, "It seems that we have a case to attend to in the next town. It's about a day's drive so we should arrive at night. The people are in a panic; something's causing trouble and they believe it might be some type of monster. There's been evidence of strange growling, missing equipment and people, and weird slime left on the pavement. They want us to check it out. We don't have to go if you want to." Ever since Lewis's death, Vivi always made sure to ask Arthur if they should go on a case, making sure to always be considerate of his feelings. (Even if the last case they took was about six months ago and was just a female ghost looking for her lover, believing they were hurt after the fire that had killed them. They found evidence of what happened in the end, visited the ghost's lover and the ghost thanked them before passing on after seeing their loved one alive, healthy and healing. That was the first time Vivi and Mystery saw Arthur excited on a case involving a real ghost. They were shocked to say the least when the blonde, who was cautious yet curious, talked to the kind spirit, helping her out.)

Arthur looked at his concerned friend as he held his hand up and said, smiling nervously, "It's ok, Viv. Let's check it out. Besides, when's the last time we even went out and solve a real mystery? I'll take a look at the van while you get some supplies. We can leave in about an hour or so."

Vivi and Mystery, who walked in to the kitchen, flinched, knowing the real reason why they haven't gone on more mysteries then usual. It's been about a year since the cave, since Arthur was possessed and Lewis was killed. Vivi would still have nightmares, although rarely, about what would happen if Mystery hadn't been able to save Arthur from the demon on time or if he remembered what happened to Lewis. Those two outcomes would always be her new fears of losing the last person that she and Lewis loves.

They, along with the Peppers, the Yukinos, Uncle Lance and the Kingsmans, also know not to say Lewis's name at all, for Arthur would get a weird magenta glow around his eyes and he would fall unconscious for a few hours only to wake up with terrible migraines or a splitting headache. (Even though it breaks their hearts to not talk about Lewis, especially the Pepper sisters, who would try to talk about their big brother to Arthur each time he came to visit while Vivi was taking cooking lessons from their parents, hoping he would remember anything. Their hope is slowly dying out, but they aren't giving up.)

As they were coming to their senses, Vivi looked at Mystery, smiled faintly and said, as they started packing supplies for the trip, "Well, Mystery, ready to solve this case?" Mystery looked up at Vivi, staring into her calm, icy blue eyes covered by the girl's pink glasses, said, a small smile spreading across his face, "Yes. It's been a while since we've had a case. Now we must go; we shouldn't keep Arthur waiting. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy to go on a case before."

Vivi laughed slightly as she and Mystery put the last of the supplies in the van and, as they both got in the van, smiled at Arthur who finished checking the engine and got in to the driver's seat. He put the key in the ignition, starting the vehicle, and smiled at his friends. With music blasting on the radio, the trio set off on the road towards a new adventure, not knowing that they would meet with someone who was familiar to them along the way. Nor would they be expecting what would happen when they found it.

[eagesoldartblog]

So! I wasn’t sure how to write today's prompt/yesterdays of “secret injury” or “humiliation” SO! Im not doing either! Probably will put those in another prompt over the weekend Welcome to Whumptober 25th! and- this is lowkey for @nemesis-is-my-middle-name and @pi-cat000 to answer some of your questions!! BuT NOT RLY

Infection

“What is your name?”

“Lewis pepper.”

“Do you have family in Texas?”

“Yes, sisters and parents, we own a restaurant in tempo.” 

“Can you recall their phone numbers.”

“... I can’t.” 

Lewis sits on the observation table, eyes switching from the doctor and the second observer, before landing on the doctor again. 

His entire body seems to be wrapped under the paper like sheet of a hospital gown, far too short to cover himself adequately, so his hands were covering his delicates. 

That didn’t particularly matter, what mattered was that his eyes were burning. 

These lights were far too bright. 

The physical examination went… alright.. Lewis didn’t want them to touch them, but he couldn’t resist them. 

They were promising him that after that, he could go and see the other survivors. 

They didn’t say whether Arthur or Vivi survived, but he wants to hope they did. 

They had to. 

“Lewis, other patients report that they’ve been in the building for an extended period. how long would you say you were trapped in there?”

Lewis doesn’t want to think about that place. 

“... I don’t know, my watch stopped working at the beginning. But, a long time.”

“Okay…” the doctor frowns, biting her lip, “did it feel like a week, a month, a year?”

“... a year, definitely a year.”

The observer writes something on their clipboard, data, Lewis figures.

The doctor hums, and nods. 

“You seem to have bonded with two other people, do you remember their names?”

Lewis shifts, leaning forward, the hair shading his eyes, “Yes. Vivi was an investigator, with blue hair and she had - she was a really good leader. The other one, Arthur, we found him later on. He’s a mechanic, has anxiety, he was really … really nice.” lewis faintly recalls how he offered to be bait, whenever he wasn’t… 

Mind dulling, his memory fuzzes. 

The doctor nods, the observer scribbles.

“Arthur…. out of the people you’ve mentioned, yourself included, he has the strongest amount of a bacteria. This bacteria led to episodes of temporary insanity, a zombie like state. Is this true?”

Lewis nods, and he reaches for his arm. Arthur bit him once during one of those episodes. 

“We called it going feral.” He explains.

“I see. Are you aware that being in such close contact led to you and Vivi both contracting this… feral-ness?”

They both had episodes. At times. 

“Yes.”

“Do you have any suspicion how he contracted it?”

Lewis swallows, retracting, eyes glued to the small dips of the wall. 

“Yes… something- whatever trapped us in there.. it wanted us to kill each other. When no one did at first.. it brought guns. Then… I- I’m sorry, it’s hard to think of..”

The doctor looks to the observer, and back to him, Lewis can’t read her expression. “That’s alright Lewis, would you like to take a break?”

“.... May I see the others if we do?”

The doctor frowns and shakes her head, “Unfortunately, for right now we need to keep you all quarantined. Until we can see exactly what we can do to ensure your safety, as well as the general populous.”

Eyes stinging, Lewis shuffles back, nodding, “May we continue then?”

“Of course. Take your time Lewis, we have all day.”

Lewis swallows, and then keeps going, “We.. we think that it poisoned the water. We needed to boil water and… look for scraps to eat. Cooked anything we could thoroughly.”

The doctor blinks slowly and then asks, “By any chance, did you need to consume human flesh?”

“Once…” Lewis braces himself, memory replaying and in seconds he feels sick to his stomach. Lewis grits his teeth, gagging, “I- I need-“

“Grab a trash can, quick.”

[braveskyered]

Dames 3 - Childhood Memories

It is highly recommended that you read Knights before reading this, otherwise you may miss some context.

Knights is a post-Hellbent fanfic where, while the Mystery Skulls learn the truth of what happened in the cave, reconciliation fails in the long run, and Arthur leaves his old life behind to escape the vengeful wraith. He tries to move on with a new life, but it’s not easy to heal from the trauma.

Knights is seen through Arthur’s eyes, while Dames is seen through the eyes of the other people he interacts with.

This takes place from the beginning to Part 12.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The earliest memory Gwen can recall is the terrified look on her father's face.

She didn't really understand it then, other than that she knew it's not something her father should be having.

From what she assumed, adults never get scared, only little boys and girls like her and her brother Percy. Upon seeing Daddy become so scared, it made Gwen realize that no matter how big you are, you will always be scared of something. No matter what, there will always be fear from somewhere. Even Mom looked afraid when she saw Daddy fall down in fear at the sight of a fox.

Gwen didn't remember where it exactly happened, but she remembered it was at a place with lots of people Mom knew. She remembered herself and her brother Percy crying about something, but didn't recall why. She remembered Daddy humming the lullaby, which always calmed her no matter what.

And then she saw the look of terror on Daddy's face.

As Gwen grew and learned more about her family bloodline, although she never saw it again, her father's terrified expression remained ingrained into her mind.

As long as she can remember, besides that one memory, her father has been nothing but kind. He didn't have special powers like her mother, or her aunt, or her grandmother, or her great-grandmother, or even her nana, but he had something that no one else had. Daddy had a special touch and knowledge that Gwen and Percy would crave, wanting to know more. Gwen found that working on cars and machines were a lot of fun. If she messed up, her father would point it out and she would fix it, and in the chance she couldn't, he would show her.

She loved doing it, because it made Daddy smile.

The training that Mom and Grandma would make Gwen and her brother do can be challenging at times. They didn't hate it, far from it. But sometimes, Gwen really missed seeing Daddy. He never joins them on their training days except for a handful of occasions, those being the times Mom would forget to bring lunch for the day. Every once in a great while, Gwen would leave her own lunch behind on purpose so it could give her a chance to see her father.

There were times, when Daddy wasn't working on cars or robotics or anything that required his hands, he would sit at his desk and gaze at the moon through the window. At times like this, Daddy had the face of a stranger. Whenever this happened, Gwen and Percy didn't dare to speak to him. They were afraid that if they did, Daddy wouldn't remember them.

So the two would stand there silently until Daddy finally noticed them.

Shortly after their seventh birthday, Daddy had taken Gwen and Percy into the private garage of the family store to see if they could help him repair and identify car parts. Gwen loved helping her father, and she knew Percy did, too. Her brother, who used to be so quiet, is now a noisy brother who often tried to take all of Daddy's attention and do all the work by himself.

Gwen is thankful that Daddy always remembered to include her.

When Percy's power awakened early, all of a sudden there is a large golden fox, and fire started to spread. Before she could make the move to grab a fire extinguisher, she saw her father's terrified expression before he fell to the floor.

For a split moment, Gwen resented her brother for scaring Daddy, but the cries of despair from him right after it happened made her change her mind. She tried to stop him, but Percy ran off and locked himself into their bedroom before she could. How could she ever think for even a second that Percy would do this on purpose? How would anyone fix this?

In the end, it had to be Daddy who could make things right. He soon came to their room, convinced her brother to open the door, then hummed the lullaby that told them the simple message: In the end, everything will be okay. Fortunately, Daddy only suffered from minor injuries, according to Mom. It calmed down Percy, who then swore that he would do his best to not lose control like he did before.

Gwen was confident that her power wouldn't emerge until she was ten, as she had been told multiple times by Mom, Grandma, and Grandaunt. So she figured she wouldn't lose control of herself like Percy did... until four days later that is.

When she woke up to nothing but a blanket of white, her breath coming out as visible cloud, she could hear her parents exclaiming something while Percy complained about the cold. Needless to say, her power awakened, too.

...Which also caused more than a handful of destructive effects in the bedroom, enough that all the furniture and even the carpet had to be replaced.

(Gwen could only be thankful that she wasn't grounded for that.)

In school, girls were often expected to be squeaky clean and play with dolls or learn on “how to be a good wife,” whatever that meant. Gwen knew what a wife is, that's what Mom is to Daddy, just as how Daddy is a husband to her. One time, before their eighth birthday, Gwen asked Daddy if she would make a good wife, and Daddy gave her a strange look. He wasn't angry, just confused. She saw him give her a small smile and caressed her cheek.

“You don't need to worry about that until you're at least twenty,” Daddy told her, “Right now, you're at an age where you're still learning and growing. You don't need to learn how to be a wife, you only need to learn how to be you.”

Gwen looked down. The teachers at school don't seem to think so.

“Who told you that you need to be a good wife at school?”

She told him, and within a week, the atmosphere in her school changed. She and her brother were moved to different classes, away from the mean teacher and students, and the homework became things that didn't bore her. She liked going to school now than how it was before. Gwen and Percy didn't like being the youngest students in their class, but Daddy said it's only a small price to pay.

During the early spring following their tenth birthday, Mom and Daddy sat down with them and handed them a book. It talked about a mommy and daddy loving one another so much that a baby came into their lives. Gwen remembered being told alongside Percy that some time in October, they will have a baby sibling.

Gwen didn't know what to think of it, and neither did her brother. She remembered some of her classmates having baby siblings that their parents have spent all their time on now, enough to where it seems like their parents will no longer have any time for them. To Gwen, not getting any hugs from Mom or Daddy... hurt.

When she asked Daddy about it, he gave her a laugh that made Gwen realize her thoughts were just being absurd.

“Babies can't do much on their own,” Daddy gently explained to her, “You and Percy were like that when you were born. When your sibling comes, your mother and I will have to spend a lot of time caring for them. We'll be busy, but we'll never stop loving you and your brother. Besides,” he teased her by tapping her nose, “We'll be teaching you how to care for them, too.”

“You're teaching us how to be a mom and dad?”

“Hahaha. No, Gwen. We'll be teaching you how to be a big brother and sister.”

True to Daddy's word, once Vivian was born on her and Percy's eleventh birthday, he and Mom did have to spend a lot of time to care for the newest member of their family. Despite them being busy, the both of them always made sure to include Gwen and Percy in whatever they could. The sudden awakening of Vivian's power on her fourth day of life was a sudden event, and made her parents even more busy caring for her but over time, things have stabilized.

(Gwen isn't really sure why Vivian's hair is really long now, or why it couldn't be tied in place, but she soon learned to go with it.)

Despite the many mishaps and whatnot, Gwen and Percy loved their little sister, and the two swore to each other that they will protect her no matter what.

The lullaby that Daddy hummed is a song that Gwen and Percy loved more than anything. Every now and then, they would hum it in a cheerful way, for as far as they know, it’s just a song that Daddy made. Although Daddy would smile at them whenever they did, the somber look in his eyes would say otherwise.

Gwen didn’t understand why humming the lullaby herself would make her father sad, until one night, when she went downstairs to get a drink of water, she heard her father humming the lullaby to Vivian, who was only six months old at the time. For the first time, she heard his voice truly crack and struggle to keep humming it.

No one in the school’s music department knew what the lullaby is, and she knew she couldn’t ask Daddy about it.

Although she still loved her father’s lullaby, she wondered if the song even has a comforting meaning at all.

And then one day, roughly two weeks after her and Percy's fourteenth – and Vivian's third – birthday, she saw the terror on Daddy's face once again as he held an envelope in his hands.

Some hours later, she and her siblings were told that they would be visiting their father's uncle in a faraway place called Tempo, Texas, the place where Daddy used to live before he met Mom. For as long as Gwen can remember, there has always been one rule Mom made that stood out from the rest.

“Do not ask Daddy about his past life.”

She always knew about Daddy's scars, and the ones that are shaped like a faint hand print on his neck, left shoulder, and right forearm always stood out like a sore thumb. Daddy never liked wearing clothing that would expose those scars when going outside, and he always stayed home or in the hotel room in the few occasions Mom would take Gwen and Percy to a pool whenever they went on a family vacation.

If anything, it's the scars on Daddy's back that worried her, short and long linear scars that looked like he was roughly shoved against a wall of spikes.

...Honestly, that isn’t a good mental image.

Considering the facts, Gwen figured that all those scars came from Tempo, and Daddy is terrified that more will be added.

Thus, Gwen made a vow to herself, and made Percy partake in it. Percy didn't have to be convinced, for he felt the same way. No matter what, when they get to Tempo, they will do whatever they can to protect Daddy from any more scars.

They'll even take the scars for themselves if it comes to that.

[lovewhatyoudodolan]

Imagination || Grayson

Prompt: You were mutual friends with the twins due to knowing Kian and JC when they were still in O2L. Anytime Grayson was around you’d notice him subtly looking at you, but you never thought much of it. When he randomly texts you one night asking you to come over though...

Word Count: 1,747

A/N: Not really my best imagine, but HELLO EVERYONE I’M ACTUALLY ALIVE OVER HERE STILL

I’d literally cry if I ever got to see Grayson play piano

MASTERLIST

REQUEST

Knowing Kian and JC throughout the years has definitely turned my life upside down. They inspired me to take my life into my own hands because I am the only person I need to please. 

Being their friend had many perks that will always outweigh the negative press that I commonly received by not only their fans but paparazzi. Let's face it, two guys and a girl always hanging out... Not exactly the most innocent looking scene. 

As the years went on, the rumors somewhat died down but that didn’t stop new ones from forming. Every time I go home, rumors about me getting knocked up or the boys ending our friendship circulate. These began changing when the Dolan Twins turned up in my life. 

I have always been closer to Kian and JC, but something drew me towards the two hazel eyed boys from New Jersey. There has never really been an explanation, but that day on the beach was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

”Kian Robert put me down right now!” My legs were flailing around as my best friend spun me around in circles. The boys decided to join me at the beach for my birthday and that was probably my first mistake of the day. 

The boy just chuckled, continuing his torturous movements. “Happy birthday young one!” As Kian placed me safely on the ground, JC pulled me into a bear hug.

“Hey, guys!” JC let go of me in order to acknowledge whoever was approaching the three of us. 

My mouth went dry when my eyes locked with one of the attractive brunette twins that were smiling brightly. Both boys were toned and could have easily been cut out of a magazine. “Yo! It’s been too long guys. How have you been?” 

“Pretty good,” The one with longer hair responds as Kian hugs him, “Missing home a bit.”

JC nods as he shakes the other boy's hand, “That’s understandable. When I first moved here from Texas it was uncomfortable at first.” The four easily fell into conversation about YouTube and life in California causing me to feel out of place. I never really fell into the YouTube world, usually staying behind the camera unless Kian and JC needed an extra in a skit.

“Oh,” Kian brought me out of my thoughts, “Guys I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s been my best friend for a couple of years and is a big-time pain in the ass, but you learn to love her.”

I playfully smack his arm before crossing my arms over my chest in a huff, “I’ll have you know that he’s actually the annoying one in this friendship.”

“Yeah, right.” My best friend rolled his eyes as he stepped aside to point at the brothers, “The one with longer hair is Ethan and Grayson has his hair styled.”

The three of us silently shook one another's hands, but little did we know it was the beginning of a long-running friendship...

After that day, I ran into the twins multiple times on the street before finally exchanging numbers. To say Kian was jealous of my growing friendship with them would be an understatement. At one point he even called Ethan and Grayson ‘best friend thieves’, but we just got along well since we were close in age. 

“God damn it,” I mutter under my breath while pushing myself onto my tiptoes in hopes of grabbing the last box of my favorite cereal. “Why couldn’t I have just been born tall?”

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to call you shorty,” A hand moves up over my head to grab the box, “It wouldn’t be the same.”

I snap around to find none other than Grayson Dolan standing there with a cheeky smile on his face, and my box of cereal in his hands. “Awe Gray did you get that down for me?”

“Pft as if,” He hides the box behind his back, “This is my favorite.”

A pout forms on my face as I stare up at the boy through my long lashes, “But Gray I found it first. It’s not fair that you’re just taller than I am...”

“Guess you owe me then,” The brunette smirks before handing the box over, “I’ll see you around.”

I never expected something to grow out of the friendship with the boys, especially not Grayson. Since day one I knew he was way out of my league, but that didn’t stop me from thinking he was attractive. 

Nothing between us really signified that he wanted to be friends until one fateful dare night between our housemates and the twins. 

“Bobby get your ass down here!” Kian shouted as I placed my finished cocktail bottle on the floor in the middle of our group. “So rather than just playing spin the bottle, I say we do spin the bottle truth or dare.”

Our group was rather intoxicated, so we didn’t think much about the possible repercussions of this game between friends. More than likely we wouldn’t even remember half the things we did by the time the sun came up. 

As soon as Bobby collapsed on the floor next to me, Kian began the game. Everything started out simple, truths were exchanged and easy dares were completed, but I knew in no time something big was going to happen. 

“Y/N.” JC had a wicked smile on his face as the bottle landed in front of me. “Truth or dare?” After being dared to drink the expired milk in our fridge, I knew he wasn’t going to go easy on me. However, at the same time, I’ve never been able to turn down a dare.

“I’m not a pansy JC, give me a dare.” I took another swig from my beer before making eye contact with the curly haired boy sitting across from me. 

What came out of his mouth next almost caused me to spit my drink out though, “7 Minutes in Heaven with Ethan.”

“What?” Grayson sputtered out with wide eyes glancing between me and his brother. 

The younger twin and I held eye contact for a second before Ethan pulled him to his feet. “I think we’re actually going to head home for the night. Thank you for having us over.”

However, as the two boys made their way to the front door, my eyes never left Grayson. 

From that day on, my mind was reeling with the possibility that deep down Grayson was jealous of the idea of me and Ethan hooking up in a confined closet. The two of us would exchange looks whenever we were in the same room, but he and Ethan had stopped inviting me over as much. They went on a tour and were traveling the world at such a rapid pace that there was no chance of keeping up with them. 

I was slowly getting into modeling and videography with the help of Bryant and JC. Gathering supportive fans rather than haters that were jealous of my friendships. My life was falling into place, and then the text came through.

‘Hey, can you come over?’

I blankly stared down at my phone as Kian and Bobby discussed some plans they had for this weekend. My heart skipped a beat as the typing dots appeared before disappearing once again. 

“You okay?” Kian had a concerned look on his face as he stared at me from his seat across from me at the table. 

I nod as I stand up from the table, “I have to head across town. Do you guys need anything while I’m out?”

“Condoms!” I recognized JC yell from upstairs causing me to roll my eyes and chuckle slightly.

“You go get those yourself you nasty.” Kian had a questioning look on his face as I turned my attention back to them, but I just shook my head. Some things just have to be kept secret. 

It didn’t take long for me to get to their apartment complex across town. Ethan’s BMW was nowhere to be seen which made me question if they were even here, but as soon as I knocked on their door Grayson opened it. 

Butterflies went off in my stomach at the sight of the brunette boy in the doorway. I didn’t realize how much I actually missed being around the brothers until this moment. 

“Hey Gray,” I awkwardly pushed some of my hair away from my face as he waves me inside, “Did you need something? We haven’t exactly been talking that much lately...”

“No, I uh,” He pauses in order to talk my hand and lead me through the apartment to his room where his keyboard was set up in front of his bed. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now and I haven’t been able to find the words, so I learned how to play a song instead.”

I took a seat next to him on the queen-sized bed and felt my cheeks heat up instantly as the familiar Shawn Mendes song filled my ears. Even without the lyrics behind it, I knew what he was trying to say. 

Whenever he slowed the tempo, our arms would brush and cause shockwaves to disperse through my body. Nothing could prepare me for his moment because I never thought something like this would actually happen.

As the song winded down, Grayson began singing the lyrics softly under his breath. “I keep craving, craving you don’t know it but it’s true... Can’t get my mouth to say the words I want to say to you.”

“Gray?” I didn’t have time to think before his lips were softly placed on mine, but I kissed him back immediately. After a few seconds, we pulled away and I stared at him questioningly. 

“I’m not usually shy around girls,” He sighs and wipes his hands on his jeans, “That’s always been Ethan, but something about you makes me nervous and shy. I hate it. My confidence is shot around you which is why it has taken me so long to tell you how I actually feel...”

My hand fell to his chest as a light chuckle left my lips, “You sound like a babbling idiot Gray. Just ask me on a date if that’s what you want.”

If someone would have told me that Grayson Dolan and I would have ended up together when we first met, I would have laughed in their face. But here we are...

[holy-honeybees]

Snowdrift

AO3

Rating: T+ (for swearing)

Summary: Three friends and  their dog get lost in a snowstorm while investigating the paranormal. Amidst swirling flurries of white, some lose their way and get lost in their memories, others lose sight of their friends and loved ones, and an unforgiving winter quickly fills in the footprints one would follow to get back home.

A/N: I started this back in November but sadly never finished the work. I was thinking of holding off till it started to snow again, but figured now was as good a time as any to try and finish this.The title is taken from Snail's House song "[snowdrift]" which you can check out here! Also, just in case, this chapter does feature a panic attack, though not what I would consider to be a graphic one.

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Chapter One 

It was late December and the Nebraska landscape was quiet in a way that only winter brings. The flat plains that stretched to either side of the roadway were barren and frozen, though the month had yet to see any snowfall. The somber atmosphere was interrupted by the steady rumble of a boxy, yellow van rolling along the empty country highway, heading north. Inside the car, music played, punctuated by soft snoring and the occasional thump of a dog’s tail that wagged in its sleep, the driver tunelessly humming along and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, one metal and the other flesh and bone. As for conversation, it was silent, though not for lack of conscious company. Arthur Kingsmen stole a glance out of the corner of his eye at the specter he shared the front seat with, the ghost staring absentmindedly out of the window at the passing landscape. If it weren’t for the fact that they had tried—and in his own case, succeeded—to kill each other a little over a year ago, Arthur might have called it a companionable silence. As it was, the lack of conversation since Vivi had crawled into the back of the van for a nap was making him nervous. He glanced at Lewis once again before turning back to the roadway with a small sigh, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with his right hand. Things had gotten better between them. Things had been getting better for all of them. The sight alone of Mystery didn’t leave Arthur shaking, plastered to the opposite side of the van. Vivi was getting her memory back steadily, despite the occasional lapse they stumbled across. Lewis…well, Lewis wasn’t trying to kill him anymore. The purple specter didn’t even glare at him anymore. Forgiveness had been achieved despite the niggling doubts at the back of Arthur’s mind that whispered he didn’t deserve it. They had gone from enemies, to strangers, to almost-friends. They had relearned to occupy the same space, even chatting sociably on occasion without Vivi or Mystery playing mediator. It was progress, slow progress maybe, but Arthur wasn’t sure if there was any precedence for how long it might take to repair your friendship with the spirit of your once best friend. If he was being honest, he was happy just to have the chance. Vivi had wanted to celebrate their progress with a new case, one that required road tripping, though Arthur suspected that her decision was partially fueled by her exuberance and impatience at seeing them be friends again. It must have been hard for her to get her memories back at a point in time where everything had changed so much, Arthur mused, once again rubbing at his eyes as he tried to rein in his thoughts. His mind tended to wander when he was tired, and Arthur Kingsmen, certified insomniac, was always tired.

He glanced at Lewis once again, before exchanging the heat blasting out the van’s vents for cold air, shivering despite his vest being zipped up over the long-sleeved white shirt he’d swapped for his usual tee. Arthur knew Lewis would be unbothered, unable to feel the temperature change, and Vivi, bundled in the back of the van in heavy blankets and cuddled up to a fluffy dog, wasn’t likely to notice. He needed to stay awake and the chilly air would help. His coffee thermos had long since run dry, as had the conversation, and after six long hours of driving on only two hours of sleep, anything stimulating would be a welcome change. He had to stay awake, he had to keep driving, he had to be usefu—he had to stay awake. His discordant humming choked off and his fingers tightened around the wheel, ceasing their increasingly frenzied tapping. He glanced at the van’s clock, trying to calculate how much longer it would be before they could pull over in a town to rest, before giving up on the math when he realized he had no idea how far away the next stop was. His mind circled back to the silence, and he warred with himself about conversation topics, his mind buzzing with a dozen unsatisfactory attempts to break the silence. He wondered if it was his fault things were so quiet now. Had he done something wrong, said something wrong? Should he apologize, just in case? Would it be weird to start speaking again now? Would Lewis be annoyed? Arthur felt the irrational need to say something, anything begin to bubble up in his chest as his mind began to spiral out of control, taking apart the last quiet hour like an engine to see if he could figure out the trouble. He had to come up with a conversation topic soon or he would inevitably blurt out the first thing that came to mind or else launch into a long-winded babble about mechanics, robotics, or—god forbid—van maintenance. He could feel the pressure building in his chest, climbing up his throat, and did his best to weld his mouth firmly shut against any awkward attempts at small talk he might make. Then Lewis sat up abruptly, causing Arthur to jolt in his seat, a strangled noise escaping through his clamped-shut lips. Lewis was staring intently in his direction. The dire need to fill the silence was becoming too much to contend with as Arthur opened his mouth to launch into what he hoped wouldn’t be some diatribe about how the number of lug nuts didn’t necessarily equate high performance for a car, just take race cars for example—

Splat!

Arthur startled at the small sound of something hitting the windshield, whipping his head around to Lewis when he heard a soft utterance emit from his skull.

“Look.” Lewis had hunched forward in his seat, crowding his large frame into the windshield of the van, looking upwards with a dreamy expression. Arthur would be ceaselessly frustrated trying to figure out the logistics of how a skull could so effortlessly emote had the expression on the specter’s face not been so soft, so human and alive, leaving a bittersweet feeling to grow in Arthur’s chest.

“It’s snowing,” Lewis said. Arthur blinked as he comprehended the words, before likewise craning forwards in his seat and turning his face skywards. Thick, fluffy white flakes were drifting down from the pale grey sky, making a lazy descent to the world below. He gazed at the beginnings of the flurry with childlike wonder, a small smile slipping onto his face without his notice. He’d seen snow before of course, experienced it in person too, though the opportunity to do so in Tempo, Texas, hadn’t presented itself. Arthur remembered being young, before he’d come to live with his Uncle Lance, his father had tried to show him how to have a snowball fight during a winter they’d spent in Colorado. He never quite got the form right, the snow turning into powder or wet misshapen lumps between his mittens, as opposed to the seemingly perfect spheres his father made. When it came to throwing snowballs, his weak, noodle-like arms weren’t able to muster up much force, while his dad had let loose like canon fire. Arthur had taken one of the frozen projectiles to the face and immediately started crying. He still remembered his father’s large, apologetic smile as he’d laughed and ruffled his hair before he’d taken him to a local diner for hot chocolate, tears quickly forgotten by the child. It was a good memory, and he found his eyes misting over as he once again wished things could go back to the way they were before. As much as he loved his Uncle Lance, as happy as he was to have Lewis back, even in his present condition, he still wished he could turn back the clock.

“Hey, eyes on the road,” Lewis chuckled in the seat beside him, shaking Arthur free of the memory he’d been caught in. The mechanic quickly scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeves, hoping his spectral passenger hadn’t noticed. He returned his attention to the pavement ahead of him, just in time to see a pale figure standing in the road only a few feet from the front of the speeding van.

“Shit!” Arthur exclaimed, slamming his foot down on the brake, the tires screeching in protest at the sudden deceleration until the van came to a stop ten feet further down the pavement. He sat there breathing heavily in his seat, Lewis clinging to the side of the van as if he still had a life to fear for. In the back, the dog muttered choice words under his breath at the rude awakening and Vivi mumbled as she slowly became alert.

“Arthur, what the—” Lewis began from the front seat, irritation creeping into his tone. But Arthur had already thrown the driver’s side door wide open and was scrambling outside, uncaring to hear the rest of Lewis’s expletive. He stumbled along the roadway searching for the figure he had seen just moments before, hoping he wouldn’t see them lying unmoving in the middle of the road but expecting it nonetheless. His surroundings were as empty as they had been over the last few hours though.

“Shit. Shit, shit…” Arthur cursed under his breath. He’d just run somebody over, most likely killing them since he’d been strictly adhering to the fifty-five mile per hour speed limit, and this time there was nobody to blame but himself. No extenuating circumstances, no green spirits possessing him, just him and—

“Arthur, what’s going on?” Lewis spoke up suddenly from behind him, causing the shorter man to startle. 

“Th-there was somebody in the road,” Arthur responded, swallowing thickly. They had made so much progress and all of it was going to be undone because he was a murderer again. Lewis merely regarded him quietly, his look appraising. Arthur squirmed under the scrutiny.

“I-I tried to stop, but by the time I saw them there was no…there was no way…” Arthur said, an all-consuming sick-feeling opening up like a pit in his stomach as he trailed off weakly, “We need to find their…body…so we can, y-y’know…”

“Arthur,” Lewis was looking at him with a concerned expression, his head shaking slightly as he slowly said, “there wasn’t anybody in the road.”

“W-what?” Arthur said dumbly, his mouth suddenly dry, “B-but I saw…” He trailed off as he heard the telltale click of dog claws on pavement as Mystery joined them. 

“Arthur,” the disguised kitsune said calmly, “If there was anything in this vicinity that you could have struck with the van, I would have sensed it.” The dog quirked an eyebrow at him as he made to interrupt. 

“And even if you don’t find yourself able to rely on the incredible mystic abilities of a 600-year-old kitsune, my nose would detect it even without the aid of magic. There’s no one out here but us.” 

“O-Oh,” Arthur said, his shoulders slumped as he released a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, too quickly taking another, and another to refill his lungs. Two feet clad in thick blue socks entered his field of vision as he stared down at the asphalt, the fourth and final member of their group finally roused and joining where they’d gathered on the road. If Vivi had said anything upon her arrival though, it was lost to the ringing in his ears accompanied by the pounding of his heart. He massaged his sternum absently. 

“Oh,” he repeated numbly, followed by a high-pitched stressed sound that could have been mistaken for a giggle if not for the utter lack of mirth in the noise. Panic set upon him in full force then, his breath hitching as he rode out the panic attack like a wave, the fit of hyperventilation ebbing away after a few minutes, awareness of his surroundings creeping back in.

“You okay, Artie?” Vivi asked, her voice still sleepy, but her eyes sharp and focused on him, brimming with worry.

“I’m okay,” he said, almost automatically, before taking another moment to catch his breath, “Just…relieved. I-Is it bad that I feel like I’m getting better at having panic attacks?” 

“I don’t like the thought of you having that much practice at it,” Vivi mumbled, pressing in close to her friend’s side and wrapping him up in the blanket she’d dragged out with her. Arthur hummed noncommittally, grateful for the shared warmth. He felt a hand on his chin, gently tilting his head back.

“Have you been sleeping?” Lewis inquired, peering closely at Arthur’s face, though the mechanic suspected that the deep shadows and bags under his eyes didn’t require that close of an inspection to be seen.

“I know I saw something,” Arthur said half-heartedly, avoiding the question the specter had posed to him. He had been so certain he’d seen something in the road, but his friends’ reassurances were weakening his conviction. 

“Maybe I am a little tired,” he admitted sheepishly, hands once again coming up to scrub at his eyes.

“How about you let Lewis drive for a little while?” Vivi suggested, already tugging Arthur towards the back of the van, the mechanic easily lead away despite the protests he voiced. Vivi ushered him through the rear doors, depositing him on top of the sleeping bag she’d used earlier and quickly burying him under a pile of blankets.

“Just for a little while,” Arthur said tiredly, his eyelids already beginning to droop, “And no…no changing the van into…whatever it was you did to that monster truck.” He thought he heard Lewis huff a laugh as he burrowed further into the blankets, still warm from Vivi’s nap. He listened as she and Lewis climbed into the front of the van, Mystery’s legs scrambling briefly to gain purchase on the seat, a quiet conversation starting between the ghost and the girl in hushed tones undoubtedly for his own benefit. Arthur sighed as he relaxed further into the warm environment. He’d rest, just for a little while, just enough so that his eyes were clear and focused and didn’t conjure imaginary obstacles in the road.

Just a little while…

Arthur dozed off within minutes, lulled to sleep by Lewis’s voice as it rumbled through the specter’s chest and the familiar scent of blueberry shampoo on the pillow he’d borrowed.

In the distance, a single, silent figure stood, with pale skin and white hair. The snow swirled around her, the spitting snowflakes quickly worked up into a flurry, landing on her nose and blue lips, undisturbed by her lack of breath or body heat. Had one of the Mystery Skulls looked in the rearview mirror of the van, they might have caught a glimpse of her as she faded from view, blending into the wintry landscape, scentless and shapeless as the snow that fell from the sky.