#No one is gonna steal in this God fearing town and if they even attempted they wouldn't like Eddie's stuff anyways

[jadewritesficshere]

Eddie frowns to himself slightly. He was expecting to come home to find you watching TV or maybe doing one of your hobbies. Instead, there are still laundry baskets full of unwashed clothes you were going to take to the laundromat.

"Babe?" He calls, leaning against the wall to take off one shoe at a time. He lets them fall haphazardly next to your neatly placed shoes. He takes his leather jacket off and hangs it on the peg on the wall.

Eddie heads down the trailer hall to the bedroom. The door creaks as it opens. He can see you laying under the covers. Eddie walks over, carefully sitting towards the foot of the bed. "Hey Babe," he runs a hand up and down your spine," bad day?"

You groan," yeah...I'm sorry." "For what?" Eddie's brow furrows slightly. You huff and pull the blankets back to look at him. "I was supposed to do laundry. Clean the living room up for your club to meet tomorrow. Instead my joints decided 'hey let's become stiff like steel so every movement hurts'. My nervous system decided 'oh hey let's send a wave of fatigue so strong we can barely keep our eyes open."

Eddie blinks a couple of times watching you. A stray tear falls from your eyes, but Eddie gently wipes it away before it can leave your cheek. "Those days happen. It's okay. Do you ever get mad at me when my body aches?" He cups your cheek in his hand.

"Eddie you almost died saving the world. My body just is like this-" "Who's to say the Upside Down didn't exacerbate things hm? That air wasn't exactly legal." You roll your eyes.

"It isn't your fault." Eddie murmurs, thumb running back and forth against your cheek. The cool of his rings against your face. "It feels like it," you mumble. "Hey, stop being mean to the person I love!" Eddie pokes your side gently. You can't help but smile slightly at him.

"I love you. I know you get frustrated and upset sometimes, especially when things flare up. I do understand what you're going through and it fucking sucks. But that doesn't mean I love you less. We got to take the bad with the good. It makes those good days all the more special. It's an honor to be with you. In sickness and in health, yeah?"

"Are you saying wedding vows?" You joke. "I mean... I never believed in marriage for me but you make me think about it." Eddie shrugs," Dont need a piece of paper to validate my feelings for you." You smile softly," Yeah."

A few seconds pass before Eddie clears his throat, face flushing," So, uh, do you need heat? Will that help?" You slowly nod.

Eddie stands," Then I am going to go pop the rice bags in the microwave for you, and then im gonna run to the laundromat to get the clothes in the washer because I think Wayne will actually kill us both if he comes home in the morning to no clothes."

You laugh lightly," Til death do us part eh Munson?" "Not even death could separate us my love."

[davinablade]

Chapter 1 Prince sett x reader nina the starry bride

As a child, you had known the love of your parents. But then their death led you astray. A mere orphan running in the castle town of Dayah in Fortna, you survived by stealing from vendors.

You had Colin and Saji as companions. They were brothers, and you had joined them after losing your own family to the plague that had taken countless lives a few years ago.

One day, as you admired the beauty of a lapis stone, Colin commented on how it matched your pretty eyes. Saji reprimanded him, reminding you both that slavers sought out children with eyes like yours. Uneasy, you refused to wear the lapis bracelet, declaring, "I'm hungry. I'm gonna make something to eat."

The boys groaned, complaining that your cooking was never any good. Still, it was just enough to keep the three of you going.

Then, Colin fell ill. His fever wouldn’t break, no matter what you tried. Saji cursed the stars, blaming their misfortune on being born under a poor one. Desperate to help, you attempted to steal money for medicine, but the vendor caught you and threw you into the street. Left with nowhere to turn, you begged your dead parents for help, wishing for someone—anyone—to save you.

The next day, Saji apologized and asked you to follow him. He claimed to have found a way to help Colin. You accepted eagerly, hope rekindling in your chest.

"We aren't getting anywhere like this," Saji said as you followed him. "This is our only option left. I finally figured it out."

But it was a betrayal.

Saji led you to a room, then left you behind. Apologies tumbled from his lips as two cloaked men emerged from the shadows, surrounding you. Fear took hold as one of them instructed the other, "Don’t leave any scars, or we’ll be right back where we started."

One of the men grabbed you roughly, ordering you to show your eyes. With tears streaming down your face, you looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes gleamed like gold, sharp and beastly.

He sneered, "Filthy. I can’t even stand the smell. Strip the boy’s rags and put him into something clean."

Terrified, you fought back, biting the man’s hand and trying to escape. But he overpowered you, tearing at your disguise. Then he froze.

"You’re... a girl?" he asked, astonished.

It all made sense to them: you had disguised yourself as a boy to avoid the slavers, to hide your unusual, beautiful eyes.

The golden-eyed man’s expression shifted. "Today, you die and live again... as a princess."

Before you could react, they whisked you away to a grand villa. Maids swarmed you, dressing you in fine gowns and pinning false hair onto your head. You couldn’t stand any of it—the clothes, the perfume, the endless fussing.

Furious, you stormed through the halls until you collided with something solid and broad—a man’s chest. Looking up, you recognized him: the golden-eyed man.

"Oh, Azure-sama!" one of the staff exclaimed.

He stared at you, his expression a mix of shock and amusement. "I can’t believe you’re the filthy boy we found in the—"

"Hey!" you snapped, cutting him off. "You gold-eyed guy!"

His face twisted with annoyance, but he sighed, his tone cold and cutting. "I suppose no matter how much we change your appearance, your inside remains the same."

Rage bubbled up inside you. "What’s that supposed to mean? Why in the hell did you—"

"Kneel, girl," he interrupted sharply. His command left no room for argument.

"There will be no more back-talking. Starting from now, you will be this country’s priestess-princess, Alisha. The e/c-eyed princess, like the eyes of the god of stars.

"This is your duty. But you mustn’t allow anyone to find out that the real Princess Alisha is dead."

Horror churned in your gut as he continued. "Over the next few months, you will learn etiquette befitting a princess, how to dress properly, and then you will be married to the crown prince of Galgada."

You refused to let this man dictate your life. Grabbing a sword from a nearby rack, you pointed it at him—by the hilt.

His eyebrow arched, unimpressed. "Why are you threatening me with the hilt?"

Fuming, you snarled, "I don’t care who you are. I have nothing left to lose. You’re the one asking for a favor, not me."

His lips twitched, as though suppressing a smirk.

You had clashed with fate itself, and this was only the beginning.

You stammered, "A-anyway, fix your attitude! And, Gold Eyes, tell me who you are—or I’m going home."

He muttered, "Hmph. Do you even have a home, peasant? But I see your point. I shall apologize for forgetting my manners."

Straightening his posture, he added, "From now on, I shall be your master for three months and your tutor. I am the second prince of Fortna, Azure Seth Fortna."

well this was my first fanfic hope u liked it if you do want another part then comment and i might take some time but i will provide!

thank you 🥰

-Davina

[wickednerdery]

Title: Save a Mobius, Ride a Loki Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Loki, Rick & Morty Pairing/character: Loki & Mobius, Rick & Morty Rating: FRM Summary: “Mobius, no!!” Notes: This is a continuation of The Great Loki and something that’s been stuck in my head since before Loki premiered I’ve been dying to write, so I have. Knowledge of Rick & Morty is helpful, but not required. This story has adult content, language, and violence. For length, etc, there’s a Read More:

Loki scans the desert, wary he’s ended up where he began; where the TVA first collected him. The whinnying of horses on the wind and outline of an American frontier town in the distance indicates this is unlikely, which is a relief. He takes a few steps, then stops and turns back. “What are you doing?”

Mobius sighs as he fusses with the TemPad. “Trying to figure out when and where we are.” He stumbles through the sand as he attempts to keep up with the god’s long strides. “There’s something wrong with the specs, the settings maybe…” Then a thought blooms in the back of his mind, compels him to ask. “You didn’t do anything to it, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Loki…” It’s gentle warning, reminder. The TVA isn’t done with him, he’ll not simply let Loki wander off.

The tone, implication of it, offends. “I didn’t do anything to your blasted device!” He storms off with his own suspicion and settles under a Joshua tree to examine the gun he lifted from the old man. 

Mobius plops beside him, undoing tie as the god shifts to share the shade. “I’m sorry I accused, it’s just…” He’s Loki.

Loki ignores in favor of moving on. “I think the portal gun moves across time and space. We’re in another dimension entirely, see?” He shows the tiny dials, settings, on the device. “Your TemPad won’t work, because it doesn’t exist here.”

If the TemPad doesn’t exist, then reason stands that the TVA doesn’t either and the thought is mind-blowing - terrifying and exciting both. Mobius lived his life with the understanding that the TVA, the Time-Keepers, existed everywhere and (in a way) at every time, and yet...He examines the gun for himself, then hands it back. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Enough exposition for the readers then?”

“I guess so, I mean, we don’t want to bog them down in the...”

“Talky talky talky.” They say in unison. 

“So...how do we figure out where we are then?”

“I’ve a thought.” Loki gets up, starts in the direction of the town, with Mobius quick to catch up. As they carry on he waves hand to change their clothing according to what he suspects will be most appropriate.

“Did you just change my clothes?”

“Of course, how else did you expect us to fit in?”

“No, it’s nice…” The agent looks over the dark shirt, cowboy boots, before taking off the hat to examine. “Impressive...Just...why am I all in black?”

“Because I’m in white.”

“Yeah...But why are you in white and then, you know, I’m in black?”

“Maybe I want to change things up? Think that’s possible? ” It’s said sarcastically, but Loki himself isn’t sure it’s not true. 

Mobius smiles. “If anyone could do it, it’d be you.” 

When they arrive the god scans the rough wood buildings, the rougher looking citizens that stroll and spit in the streets, with growing smile. This is a place he can enjoy, regardless of where or when it is. Eyes follow a woman in threadbare silk, breasts nearly out, before they find the double-gun holster of her companion.

"What you grinnin’ at, Saddle-Bum?” When Loki laughs the man grows enraged, pulls his gun.

Mobius curses and scrambles as chaos breaks out, just managing to push the woman out of the way of the gunfire. He tucks them behind a pile of barrels that spill liquor as bullets fly. “Stay down.” As the dust settles he glances out. “Loki?” He’s not cross, only worried.

The god only smiles, triumphant over the local bleeding out on his back. “Ah, there you are, Mobius!” That’s a relief.

The woman begins to scream. “Oh my god! You shot the sheriff!!”

“But I did not shoot the deputy.” Loki tips his hat with a grin.

He should be angry, scared, but Mobius isn’t. Heart pounds not with fear, but at the possibilities. It’s one thing to study Loki, to interview and interact with him under controlled circumstances, but this is something entirely different. They’re off the proverbial reservation. This is a wild Loki and it’s thrilling. “This is crazy…” The corners of his lips lift in spite of himself as men drag the body away. “Lucky no one liked that sheriff.”

“Funny how often that happens.” Loki chuckles. “Shall we find a room then?”

“Two.”

“Mobius, really, I thought you would know better. If two beings are in this sort of scenario, there will only be one room and one bed available.”

"Come on, you really think the...powers that be are gonna pull that old trope out?”

Loki only chuckles as he swings saloon doors wide and cheers. “Your new sheriff is here!” The gunslingers, prospectors, and whores all turn and stare. Just stare. The god drops hands to hips, but smile remains. “Tough crowd.” He huffs his laugh, carries on to the bar. “May we have two glasses of your finest and two rooms please?”

“Sorry, just got the one available.”

“On, come on, really?” The agent is incredulous. “Did Loki put you up to this?”

The bartend and proprietor smirks. “You want the room or not?”

“The one room will do just fine, thank you,” Loki smiles out before grabbing the whole bottle rather than poured glass and heading towards a cards game. “Are you coming or not?”

It takes a moment to realize the saloon owner had no expectation of getting paid now, that Mobius was free to go to the table if he wished. He did and he did, settling beside Loki. “You know how to play this game?”

“I know how to play many games, from many different lands. Do you know how to play?”

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.” Not more than a few hands later he’s nearly all the pot to himself.

The god is thoroughly impressed. “You lied.” He smiles.

“Ahhh, what is a lie, anyway?” Mobius smiles back. “Just a...” He shrugs. “Reinterpretation of the truth.”

“You get that from your space lizard employers?”

“Nope.” He sets another winning hand on the table. “I got that from you.”

“Yer a cheat,” a player grumbles. “A liar and a cheat.” Mobius prepares to defend himself when the player turns to Loki. “And a lousy sheriff.” The god only laughs before the man grabs his wrist, digs into Loki’s jacket pocket, and pulls out an ace.

Guns cock in the men’s direction; one sighs, the other grins madly. 

“Loki, you weren’t even winning!” Mobius decries.

“Well I would have been, if you weren’t so good!” 

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Not completely.”

“Not remotely!”  The two men begin to devolve themselves into a shouting match, talking over each other as they plot an escape. “Are you ready?!”

“As I’ll ever be!”

“Good!”

“Great!”

Loki blasts the poker player holding his wrist along with two other gunslingers while Mobius socks the man beside him in the nose. It quickly escalates, spreads across the saloon like a tornado that draws in all manner of people around it. Chairs and bullets and glasses fly through the air. Mirrors and tables shatter, people scream, and through it all the god revels...and so does the agent. Until, that is, another gun fires from outside...Fast, futuristic, and deadly so both man and god hit the floor lest they get hit.

“I know you’re in there you portal gun stealing fuckers!” Rick rages from within his ship. It isn’t simply that they took his gun - they weren’t the first and he’d many - it was that he hadn’t discovered the theft soon enough. It was the hit to his ego. “Come out here now and maybe, maybe, I won’t squanch your ass!”

“Jesus, Rick, relax.” Morty doesn’t know why he bothers as his grandfather turns to berate him instead.

Loki pops up, begins to pull magic into his hands as Mobius braces on overturned table to stand. “Hide in the rafters” 

“The rafters?” Mobius looks up as Loki forms him an armored vest as precaution. “Are you kidding me? What in our history together makes you think I’m capable of something like that?”

“Then hide elsewhere, just let me handle the old man.” Loki gives overconfident wink.

Mobius sighs...This is it, this is how he dies… “I’ve a better idea.” He storms past Loki, strolls out into the street where the other two are still arguing in their ship.

“Mobius no!” Loki gives chase.

As you can see, Loki’s got no trouble slipping into new, chaotic, worlds and having a blast while Mobius takes a bit longer to find his footing - this may change as Mobius continues to travel and finds his own way of making things work. Because the rascals couldn’t manage to finish their cowboy tale in one go, there will be at least one more piece in this Wild West world...Hope y’all don’t mind, haha! (”Saddle-Bum” is an old west phrase meaning drifter.)

All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!

Those who may read: @holykryptonitekitten @lady-crowned-with-stars @ultrarebelheart @chibiyanai @dreamsofapiratelife @biiskuitx @delightfulheartdream @antoniostarshadow13 @mobiusbmobius​@zippythewondersquirrel ...If you wish to be tagged in future pieces, please let me know!

[nikrangdan]

cafeworker!ni-ki

pairing: cafeworker!ni-ki x female reader

genre: fluff, comedy

description: the cashier at the new coffee shop was so adorable you just couldn’t resist visiting just for him

**did not proofread

————

contrary to popular belief, you were NOT a social person

whenever you were around friends and family, you were always the loudest person there

like SHUT UP Y/N!!!!!!

anyways although you were loud, people still enjoyed being around you because you had such a sweet soul and interesting humor

everyone close to you knew that you hated talking to people you didnt know

but to all the strangers? no

they would think you were an outgoing ready-to-meet-new-people extrovert

which was so, so wrong

but ALAS, you had to talk strangers almost everyday living in 2020

(well lets pretend we arent in the middle of a pandemic right now)

moving on......

so you were in high school at the downfall of your existence

you used to have so many friends when you were younger ..now you only have like 3

and those three were always busy (busy making up excuses thats for sure) so you never really hung out with them outside of school

and on one fine evening after school you decided to visit the new cafe 5 minutes from your house

u were really excited because all the cafes were 15 minutes from your house so now u could just walk to this one if u wanted to !!!

but yeah it was in the middle of a small plaza that had cute buildings

you pulled up to the parking lot and was just about to get out the car when u remembered..

u have to talk to the cashier :/

who’s a stranger! even more ://

it was always so weird to you.. whenever you went out you always had someone else order for you because you just hated talking to strangers

you just felt uncomfortable and you couldnt help it

its not like you have never ordered for yourself but you would always prefer not to

and now that you think about it

this is the first time you have gone out by yourself

you did text one of your friends beforehand but they said they “had homework to do”

LIES!!!!

but you really wanted to try the coffee so you just ran with it

time to face your fears!

you opened the glass door to reveal a cute looking cafe, like the ones you’d see in movies

you loved it already

glancing to the cashier you’d have to be talking to—

hold on

you had to do a double take because WOAH.....

the cashier...

he....

wow..

you have never seen a boy like that in your life

you stood there for like 3 seconds before coming to your senses and standing infront of the menu

that was infrONT OF HIM

“hi, what can i get for you?”

HIS VOICE OH MY GOD..!?!?!

“oh um.. can i get a second to .. look..?”

“yeah of course,” he gestured to the menu on the wall above him

hes so nice u almost cried

your eyes shakily traveled up to the chalkboard menu and u began to ‘read’ the options

its like u could feel his eyes on u WTF!!!!

um um um *internally keyboard smashes*

you couldnt even think

the words on the menu were like gibberish

the ONE time u go out by yourself

this had to happen.. of course! someone had it out for you, you were sure of it >:(

picking a random drink you gave him your order

“uh can i have an iced caramel macchiato?”

ITS LIKE YOU CANT SAY A SENTENCE WITHOUT UH OR UM

u cant help but think hes judging you

he looks like that while u are standing there in old sweatpants your dads tshirt

“sure, what size?” he looks into your eyes after putting your order into the machine

god you felt your heart stop

his Eyes..... theyre so beautiful

“oh um regular” you attempted to give a small smile

hopefully it looked like one

“okay that’ll be $5.12.”

you dug out some cash from your bag and handed it to him

he gave u your change and gave u a small smile

“your drink will be out in a minute”

AAAAA

he went :)

he is so CUTE.....?!?!

he looked around your age too

sigh... you knew he was way out of your league though

you were gushing over him but he probably thought you were just another boring customer

while waiting u sat at one of the 2 person tables on your phone

and u IMMEDIATELY went to text your groupchat

‘GUYS’

‘AT THE CAFE NEAR MY HOUSE’

‘CUTEST BOY IVE EVER SEEN EVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE’

‘WTF IM GONNA CRY HOW DOES HE EXIST’

‘WAIT BRB HE S COMIBBG’

you tried to quickly put your phone down without looking suspicious when you saw him walking towards you with a drink in his hand

“here you go, enjoy” he said before swiftly making his way back to the counter and talking to the other worker there

wow... hes so mesmerizing

you’d steal glances at him every now and then while taking sips of your drink

you were sitting there for like 20 minutes before you noticed you finished your drink

you totally forgot you came here to see how good their coffee was

it was good by the way

sadly it was your time to leave

taking one last glance at him, you threw away your empty cup and walked out the door

wow

u cant believe you got to witness the most beautiful human being ever

in your small town?? crazy

you were sitting in your car just thinking

WAIT

U DIDNT EVEN KNOW HIS NAME!

you mentally punched yourself but then you started laughing

what does knowing his name even matter, its not like u were ever going to talk to him anyway

LOL

*sad emoji*

but the coffee was good so you definitely planned to go back

and not just because of the cute boy

...unless....

*time skip*

the next day you went there was a week later at the same time in hopes that he was working the same shift

AND HE WAS!!!!

score! 1 for y/n, 0 for umm... any other person who had a crush on him too i guess

the cafe didnt have too many people since it was fairly new and also in a small part of the city

so when you went in, you were the only one there along with the two workers

“welcome, what would you like to order?”

NOT THIS AGAIN

he looked even cuter today

his messy blond hair almost covered his eyes

you shouldve forced your friend to come with you this time

you ordered the same thing as last time but this time he asked for your name

hmmm

“um y/n” you answered

your heart was always beating 2 times as fast whenever you had to talk to him

he wrote it down on the cup and after you paid, you went to sit down at the same spot as last time

looking at him is literally the highlight of your day

the same thing happened as last time, he came over and gave you your drink without giving u a second glance

>:((((

boooo look at me cute boy

nonetheless u continued going to the cafe at the same time as much as u could which was like three times a week

literally over a month later and u dont think anythings going to happen

u punch yourself for thinking the boy would somehow find interest in you

hes still indifferent to you which isn’t surprising since you’ve never made any kind of move

ever

but

he should know u by now

hopefully..

*time skip again*

it was a saturday

at this point you’ve basically given up on having a crush on him and now since its become a routine u just say you go for the coffee

not really paying attention to your surroundings you dont notice that the boy at the cash register isnt the normal one you see almost everyday

“hey, what would you like to order?”

woah WHAT

you look up from your bag to notice a boy that was definitely not the one that normally stood infront of it at this time

and you also noticed something on this new cashier

a name tag

how come your old little crush didnt have one????

this new boys name was ‘jay’ and he was fairly cute too

looking around the corner at the other worker u noticed he has a name tag too

you recognized him because he was always working when the cute boy was at the cash register

his name was ‘heeseung’

after taking in these new additions you answered to jay

“oh um.. can i ge-,”

“she gets an iced caramel macchiato. her name is y/n”

??!<_|#%[>~€\£~

you whipped your head around so fast to see who said that behind you

was it who you thought it was ??!??!

YES IT WAS!!!!

OH MYGOD

ITS HIM

you widened your eyes at the boy who wasnt wearing his normal black and white uniform

instead he was wearing black ripped jeans and a gray hoodie

wow....... and u thought he couldnt look any better

BUT OMG?? HE REMEMBERS U

“oh wow ni-ki, you know her?” the boy named jay asked him

“uh yeah.. shes a regular” he said before walking to stand next to you

NI-KI

HIS NAME IS NI-KI OHMHGOD

u thought his name fit him perfectly its so CUTE

“are you gonna get something too?”

this whole time you were silent because.. what is going on

your heart was being SO fast you thought that everyone could hear it

“yup, can i get the same thing? also im paying for both of us”

WHAT??/):)/$;##\%|

ur eyes widened even more it looked like they were gonna pop out of its sockets

u unconsciously leaned towards the boy next you and kind of put your hands up

“w-what?? oh um no, you dont have to do that” you nervously said to him as he looked down at you

he kind of had a smile on his face

“i want to.”

there is no way this is happening

“oiiii ni-ki” jay chuckled while punching in numbers on the cash register

“ill have both of your drinks out soon, you two kids have fun!” jay said before turning around to face heeseung

WHAT??!!??!

your jaw almost dropped from shock

millions of thoughts ran through your brain and you couldnt even process anything

u cant believe this was happening

it was like a wattpad story or something.. is this how u meet ur soulmate

your thoughts were interrupted by a hand on your back momentarily and u look to see ni-ki shyly grinning and gesturing u towards a table

no way...

you awkwardly follow him to a 2 person table next to wall and sit down

you literally could not hear anything except for the pounding of your heart

“uh sorry about that...” he rubbed his neck and sheepishly smiled

“im ni-ki by the way”

“y/n...” u felt so awkward u wanted to cry

“agh, im really sorry if that was weird.. i just didnt know how to ask you out.....” he trailed off

*passes out*

IM JOKING

Ok but u felt ur heart stop bc NO WAY

“wait what??” u ask, ur eyes bigger than the moon

“um yeah... haha i took the day off today to try to talk to you.. sorry if that was weird..”

HE WAS SO AWKWARD JUST LIKE YOU IT WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER

“no its okay!! im glad actually...”

“really? so is it okay if we hang out?” he asked excitedly

u did not think u could handle HOW CUTE THIS BOY WAS O M G...

“of course! sorry if im kind of awkward though” you gave a small smile

“its okay, i think i am too”

you two began talking about the cafe and where you went to school

turns out even though you two lived in the same town (literally 5 minutes away from eachother) u went to different schools for some reason

u talked for like 2 minutes before jay walked up with your drinks

“hows it going guys?”

“its doing good bro, now go away..” ni-ki lightly shoved jay and laughed

you giggled at the sight

jay looked offended and came right back

“that is not how you talk to your elders ni-ki! y/n do you see this?!” he scoffed

ni-ki just rolled his eyes and turned back to you

“do not ignore me young man!” jay joked

“oh y/n, ive heard all about you from ni-ki over here by the way.”

ni-ki’s eyes got so big you almost got worried

he turned around so fast and gave jay one of those ‘i swear if you say anything ur dead meat’ looks

jay obviously did not care

“hes always like ‘y/n this y/n that’ blah blah im glad he finally got the balls to ask you out because im honestly sick of hearing it!” jay laughed

u were blushing so hard

NI-KI LIKED U????

this felt like a dream

ni-ki pushed jay away so hard and turned back with red cheeks

awe

but yeah that was the beginning of the cutest relationship ever

u and ni-ki were so cute together <333

you’d always visit him during ur free time

it took like 2 months before u two made it official tho

and he was the sweetest boyfriend ever

[isthisthingeven0n]

i’ll marry you someday : j.w

brief summary: jeff hopes that someday he’ll marry you, but after an accident that lands him in hospital, he’s more certain than ever 

word count:  2.5k (i kinda went off on this) requested: yes by the sweetest anon. i adore this idea and cause i’m super dramatic well, you’ll see   warnings: mentions of a car crash, some graphic descriptions. nothing too threatening, but if these are sensitive topics please read at your own discretion or miss this one (your wellbeing matters more than anything!)

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

“You know, I’m gonna marry you someday,” Jeff mumbles as you curl up against his chest as you struggle to keep your eyes open long enough to focus on the film.

“That so?” You whisper, looking up at him as he smiles down to you, his fingers gliding through your hair as you hum in content.

Jeff nods, unable to hide his grin as your eyes close.

It’s true though, Jeff really means it when he says it. Even if you think he’s just joking around. As a matter of fact, in all his life, Jeff has never been more certain about something. That being with you, and spending the rest of his life alongside you, and only you. After everything he’s been through, the consequences he’s faced from his actions you’re just a ray of sunshine.

You didn’t care about his past, the things he once did. He’s grown, matured as a person into someone you want to be with and love him regardless.

*

Standing in the doorway, Jeff’s bags pile up outside whilst Todd patiently waits for his friend to depart from his house. If only it were easier said than done.

“Do you have to go?” You pout as your arms remain around his waist, not wanting to let go.

Jeff chuckles as he glances behind you, seeing Todd filming on his camcorder in the pathway. “I’ll only be gone a few days, baby.” Jeff reminds you, hearing you sigh loudly as your hands begin to slip away from him.

“Just, stay safe.” You nudge his arm as he picks up his bags before leaning down and kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He blows one last kiss to you before walking out from your house, leaving you with Nerf sat by your side watching his Dad get into the passenger seat of Todd’s car.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Todd speaks up, noticing the way Jeff looks at you as if you’re the only person in the entire world.

Jeff can’t help but think of the ring he’s picked out and reserved at the jewellers, a quick pitstop on route to his and Todd’s destination. “I do, Toddy.” Jeff sighs as they pull away, moving further away from you, but closer to the next step in your future.

“So, airport?” Todd looks over to Jeff before returning his attention to the road.

Shaking his head, Jeff points to the left hand turn coming up, the opposite direction. “I just wanna make a short stop first.” Jeff states as Todd turns the car, and as they follow the road Jeff can see the old shop sign.

Feeling his heartbeat quicken pace, it isn’t something that goes unnoticed by Todd. “We going where I think we’re going?” Todd asks with a hesitant smile before Jeff points at the shop whilst Todd parks up just down the road.

“Yeah.” Jeff runs his fingers through his hair as he opens the passenger door, hearing Todd mutter his name as his right leg hangs out of the car.

“This is it, huh?” Todd chuckles, an attempt to hide his nerves for his friend. “You’re gonna ask her?”

“I really am, Todd. Got it all planned out.” Jeff states, feeling that familiar sense of uneasiness return to his stomach as he climbs out fully, his arm resting on the top of the car as Todd remains in the driver's seat. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more certain of anything.” He admits before turning away from the car, crossing the street toward the shop in question.

Whilst Jeff is crossing, Todd’s fingers tap on the steering wheel, humming to himself. Yet, Jeff doesn’t make it across the road.

Glancing through his rearview mirror, seeing a car speeding down the narrow street, shortly followed by a sharp break and a loud thud.

“No, no.” Todd mutters, feeling everything play too quickly for him to process. “Jeff?!” Todd yells, looking behind his car to see the small car in question with the window smashed as the driver crawls out, coughing violently.

A few shop owners and customers gather around behind the driver's car, some converse whilst others call for help. “Is he alive?” Todd hears one lady question whilst another bends down, her feet sticking out from behind the car as Todd hesitantly walks closer.

Fearing the worst, Todd took a deep breath as he moved between the gathering crowd to see what his fears be a reality.

“Jeff? Buddy?” Kneeling down, Todd couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he reaches out as blood dribbles from Jeff’s mouth as his eyes remain closed. “Has someone called for some help? Fuck!” He looks around, desperation lacing his tone as faces blur together whilst blood coats his face and exposed limbs.

“An ambulance is on its way.” Someone speaks up, resting a hand on Todd’s shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

“You’ll be okay, buddy,” Todd mutters, forcing back his tears as Jeff’s limps are splayed out, lifelessly.

*

You couldn’t process the phone call as it came through. Part of you thought it was a sick prank call until you heard Todd’s hushed voice down the line, loud enough to understand without it cracking.

David picked you up with Natalie, understanding you were in no fit position to drive.

No words were exchanged as you sat silently in the passenger seat, thinking about what Todd had told you. He hadn’t even left town, they were making a pit stop and some sick fuck was speeding.

Tearing the images from your mind, you open the car door and rush inside without checking your friends were close behind.

“Is Jeff Wittek here?” You ask bluntly, remaining emotionless as you bite your lip, holding back a sob.

The receptionist looks up at you before averting her attention to her screen. You wait painfully as she types into the system, now aware of David and Natalie either side of you. Natalie rests her hand on your forearm, squeezing it lightly as a single tear spills from your eye.

“He’s in room 207. Turn left down the hall, and three floors up.” The receptionist tells you and before she can ask if you need anything else, you’re gone.

You can’t keep up with your own feet as you race to his room, a distortion of voices play as Natalie and David converse as they try to catch up to you, but you’re oblivious to everyone else.

Slowing down, you can see someone hunched over on a seat outside of a room. A tuft of brown hair, slouched form and his hands clasped in each other.

“Toddy?” You call out weakly, seeing him rise to his feet and rush over, engulfing you in a tight hug as you sob against him.

Natalie and David hang back as Todd focuses on Natalie with watery vision. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Todd mumbles into your hair as your whole body shakes. “He, he just wanted to get something. I should’ve gone with him.” Todd rambles, but you lean back, shaking your head to him.

“It’s not your fault, Todd.” You tell him bluntly. “Do not blame yourself. It was an accident.” You breathe deeply as you force yourself to look at the door number behind him. “Is he, is he awake?”

Todd scratches the back of his neck as he takes a hold of your hand, guiding you closer toward the room. “He’s still unconscious, but he’ll be alright,” Todd tells you, but you can tell there’s something else. “but he got hurt bad, Y/n.”

Taking a shaky breath, you nod. “How bad are things?”

Shutting your eyes, you wipe away your tears forcefully as you listen to Todd listing off Jeff’s injuries. Two broken legs, fractured ribs, a collapsed lung. He was lucky to make it out alive.

“Can I see him?” You question quietly.

Todd opens the door and guides you inside to the room where Jeff is being monitored.

As you lift your eyes up, the sight before you breaks your heart.

You listen to the sound of his monitor beeping as various tubes are connected to him. Discomfort is worn heavily in his face, despite him being unconscious as stitches line his cheeks and forehead. Bruises are starting to form across his exposed skin, but the damage evidently lies deeper than that.

A sob wracks through you as you cover your mouth, muffling the sound as you fall to the ground.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” Todd hushes as he helps you to your feet. “Jeff’s strong, we know this.” He reassures you as you step closer toward your boyfriend, sitting beside him.

Reaching out, you rest your hand alongside his.

Both you and Todd sit in silence until visiting hours are over, and at this point, you can feel your entire body is numb. You didn’t want to leave him, you didn’t want Jeff to be alone in that room, left in pain without anyone by his side.

*

Two days you were sat in the room, sitting in silence beside him as Doctors and Nurses passed by. Checks were made, vitals were monitored and silence was a frequent friend.

You saw many faces, most with sympathy etched into their smiles as they tried not to focus on the damages covering Jeff’s body or the tiredness lining your eyes. It felt like an ongoing cycle, just waiting for any kind of update.

Everyone was just waiting, waiting for him to wake up. And after three solid days of waiting, sitting by his side for as long as you were allowed to, Jeff started to stir in the bed.

“Where the fuck am I?” He mumbles, and you quickly jolt up from sleeping at an angle on the plastic chair beside his bed.

“Jeff?” You call out, blinking rapidly as your vision begins to focus on his confused expression as he winces. “Oh thank god.” You reframe from wrapping your arms around him, knowing he’s still fragile. “I, I’ll go get someone, I’ll be right back.” You tell him quickly as you rise to your feet, finding the first Nurse to pass you by.

Whilst you talk to a nurse, Jeff looks around the room as the events of that afternoon replay. He remembers seeing a blue car speeding toward him and being on the ground with faces surrounding him. But after that, everything is simply blank.

Jeff watches as you walk back in, your angelic smile plastered across your face as bags wear heavy beneath your eyes.

Sitting beside him, you rest his hand in yours as the Nurse checks his vitals and explains exactly what has happened to him. As you listen to the Nurse, you feel Jeff faintly squeezing your hand, letting you know he can feel you beside him.

“So, I got hit bad, huh?” Jeff tries to joke but winces at the pain spreading across his ribs.

“Take it easy, babe.” You remind him as he lies back down, letting out a strained sigh.

“Seen worse in jail, let me tell you that.” He continues his efforts to make you smile, even if tears fill your eyes as you focus on him, how casts cover both legs and bandages across his stomach. “Hey, Y/n, I’m okay.” He reaches out as you lean closer toward him.

Feeling his hand rest across your cheek is enough to comfort you as you let out a shaky breath. “I know, I just, I don’t know what I would do if you were,” You struggle to finish your sentence as Jeff wipes away your tears that fall.

“Don’t think ‘bout that, baby.” He hushes you, peering over your shoulder to see Todd leaning against the door frame. “If it isn’t my saviour,” Jeff calls out and you laugh lightly, leaning back as Todd walks in.

Rising to your feet, Todd hugs you lightly as you pass him and exit the room in search of the bathroom.

“Hey man.” Todd sighs as he sits down, taking your seat temporarily whilst you’re gone. “Good to see you awake, you, you had us worried for a moment.”

“Just a moment?” Jeff raises an eyebrow, ignoring the bruising around his eye and the stitches below.

Todd shakes his head as he reaches into his pocket, taking out a small velvet box. “I, I picked this up, thought you might want it.” Sliding the small box across the bed, Jeff hides it underneath the covers of the hospital sheets.

“Thank you, Todd.” Jeff smiles, and Todd simply nods as you return.

“Did I miss anything?” You call out as Todd stands up, moving away from the chair as he shakes his head.

“Nothing too eventful. Good luck getting him to pee for the next few months though.” Todd laughs, nudging you lightly as you roll your eyes, missing the wink he sends Jeff.

For the next few hours, you just sat with Jeff as the Doctors explained the next step in Jeff’s recovery. It wasn’t going to be easy, and you understood that there would be hard times, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Thank you, Doc.” Jeff speaks up, processing everything he’s just been told.

“Looks like you’ll be my bitch for a while, huh?” You tell Jeff, hoping to see a smile cross his lips to ease the pressure of the detailed recovery process.

Jeff chuckles, looking up at you as you keep a smile on your face. “You’re seriously something else, Y/n.” Jeff shakes his head, watching as you shrug a shoulder. “You know, I’m gonna marry you someday.” He reminds you, and you laugh lightly.

“I know, baby. You tell me almost every week!” You smile brightly, but Jeff shakes his head as he reaches into the sheets, taking a hold of the velvet box.

“I really mean it, and, and I know this isn’t probably the way I envisioned it. And I can’t even stand, let alone get on one knee right now, but,” Taking a deep breath, Jeff reveals the diamond inside of the box, looking up as your lips part.

“Jeff,” You start, but Jeff shakes his head.

“Y/n, you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You, you’ve seen past all the shit in my life, you’re willing to help me through this and wheel me everywhere for possibly months. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, and I don’t want to.” Jeff reels off all of his thoughts as you remain in a state of shock. “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” He finally asks the question, feeling his heart pause as he awaits your response.

“Yes.” You mumble, nodding as you rise to your feet, leaning closer and kissing him passionately. “Yes, yes!” You laugh excitedly as you sit back down, letting Jeff place the ring on your finger. “So, this is it, huh?”

“I told you, baby.” Jeff smiles brightly, fighting through the pain as his monitor continues to beep at a slightly rapid pace. “I’m gonna marry you someday, and that’s a promise.”

[artificialqueens]

Backyard Boy (Gottrosenali) - Pinkgrapefruit

a/n -

special thanks to the druk discord for both their help with gottrosenali as a whole and the enby central station for their invaluable help in my portrayal of a trans character. also thanks to frey for her infinite wisdom when it comes to grammar.

i really hope you like it so please let me know how you feel!!!

*

Dance with me in my backyard, boy

Looking super fine in your corduroy

Drive me ‘round the block

We can go in a loop

And we’ll turn the volume up on some

Good boy band tunes

*

Mik leans forward, head bumping against one of the front seats as he attempts to grab Denali’s phone from the cup holder. She doesn’t notice, too focused on navigating towards the Mcdonald’s, but Rosé does, and she slaps his hand like a small child.

“I love you baby boy, but I’d rather Nali drive us into a wall before I let you play Gaga one more time.” She sounds grumpy, but Mik can search out the soft undertone and he rubs a thumb over her hand before he leans back. He sighs in relief, twisting a little to try and release some of the pressure from his binder before he sits back.

“God, someone needs to get some food into you,” he jokes and he watches as Denali places her hand on Rosé’s thigh - the pink-haired girl has always been the worst for being hangry.

It’s their lunch break, and they’ve escaped into town to get a McDonald’s before they have to sit through another hour of school. There isn’t a lesson they share between the three of them, so they relish in this time together.

“Drive-thru or eat in?” Denali calls out, her volume always a little too loud for the tiny Volkswagen she drives.

“Uh,” Mik replies, “I’m paying and I need a wee, so I reckon we go inside and then eat in the car.”

Rosé grunts, and he sees Denali’s thumb slide over her tights before she sighs. “You know I hate it when we eat in here,” she moans, but then she catches his eye and rolls her own. “But sure.”

Mik pumps his fist in triumph and, once they’re parked up, makes sure to give Denali a quick peck on the forehead before intertwining his fingers with Rosé’s. Denali wipes the Carmex off her forehead with an affectionate scowl, patting his ass in return before skipping ahead to open the door.

“My loves,” she bows her head, waving her hand in a comically large gesture that makes even Rosé crack a smile.

“Chivalry ain’t dead. He hears her mutter under her breath, and he laughs in response, loving the way her eyes brighten up when he does.

He orders for them, Rosé in too much of a grump to avoid yelling at the poor cashiers, and Nali with just a little too much anxiety. He notes down the orders on his phone like a good boyfriend and then relays them perfectly, adding on a bag of mozzarella sticks because he knows Rosé will try and steal his.

"Ladies,” he bows as he holds out the brown paper bag, and Rosé loops a hand through his arm. He loves it when she allows herself to be clingy, and Denali does too, so they let her whenever she feels it - even if it means having to guide a dead weight back to the car.

She sighs and flutters her eyes open when she’s back into the passenger seat before snorting a chuckle that makes Denali do a double-take from the fries she’d been devouring.

She points hazily at the paper bag. “Mik-Donalds-” she jokes.

“Fuck,” Mik says, leaning forward again from the back seat to drop a peck on Rosé’s cheek. “God, I love you.”

Denali places a palm on his cheek while he’s still leaning forward. “Same,” she sighs. “Same.

*

I can feel the fresh air

I can feel your eyes stare

And I’m not gonna lie

I get a little bit scared

My heart is on wings

I’m living in dreams

And at the top of our lungs, we sing

*

He lets his back hit the locker with a clang, double-checking the number because even after a year and a bit of dating he’s still never quite sure which locker belongs to Rosé. Luckily, he’s proven to be correct when Denali skips over to him, slipping her hand into his and leaning her head on his arm with a deep sigh.

"Spanish not doing it for you?” he jokes, tilting his head so it rests on top of hers, watching the rest of the students trail out of the class.

“Not last period,” she sighs, rubbing her temple with her index finger. “I’m getting a headache I swear.” She angles her head to check Mik’s watch and clicks her tongue. “Where’s Rosie,” she whines, much to Mik’s amusement.

“Rehearsals will be running late,” he tells her, enjoying the way she’s curling further into his side as the bell chimes loudly above them.

She harrumphs, mewling even more as he pulls away from her side, placing his rucksack on the ground and rummaging around for the painkillers he tends to keep. He finds them, and hands them to her alongside a bottle of water that she grasps quickly, swallowing the pills with a happy sigh. When he stands, he lets her fall back under his arm and he traces patterns on her back, muttering about his senior textiles project while she butts in with questions.

As the 3:15 bell chimes, they watch the last dregs of students trail out of the door, and Mik starts to suck at his teeth in frustration. He knows he’s done the same thing when engrossed in a project, eyes only focusing on the way the needle goes through the fabric, but he can’t bring himself not to be irritated when Rosé hasn’t even texted.

“Ah, the prophetic daughter returns,” Denali mocks from in his shirt, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him turn towards the theatre department where Rosé is jogging casually down the hall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she calls, sliding slightly as her worn converse lack grip on school linoleum. She comes to a halt, hands on his bare arms, lips pressed against his cheek in a chaste peck. She does the same to Denali in apology, and although the girl still looks grumpy, there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes.

“You’re driving home,” she says bluntly, handing over her keys with a scowl before turning to the door, and Rosé looks at Mik questioningly.

“Headache,” he tells her, and she nods knowingly.

“Migraine?”

“Not yet.” She sighs, shaking the keys in her hand to elicit a pleasant jingle, but Mik notices how it makes Denali wince. “Soon,” he amends before jogging to catch up to her - knowing the sun will do little to improve her mood.

“Sleepover it is,” Rosé sighs to herself, unlocking the car from a distance and watching as he helps Denali into the passenger seat - all too aware that the last time she was in the backseat with a migraine, it went terribly. She smiles, she’s not sure how she got so lucky.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Everything is perfect

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

All our words were worth it

*

Mik’s been going to the gym to cope wth his dysphoria, and it shows in the way his shoulders are getting broader and his muscles more defined. An extra bonus is the way it means he can cradle Denali in his arms, carrying her easily up the stairs. He lets her rest her head in the crook of his neck and relents when she tries to get him into bed with her, curling around her and sending Rosé off to search for Denali’s rescue meds.

She brings a glass of water and a sticky cold patch with her, which she applies gently to Denali’s forehead, coaxing a whimper out of her. They get her to swallow the pill, and then Rosé closes the curtains, padding around quietly before sliding into the bed next to them both.

Neither quite know what they would do if Denali’s migraines made her sensitive to touch as well as light and sound (they’re all too affectionate to try and withhold touch), but they’ve lived through enough of them that they know that with a dose of medication and a few hours in the dark she tends to be good as new.

They’re right, though the attack does relegate them to ordering pizza and eating it in Rosé’s ridiculously large bed (or at least this is the excuse they use on her mum when she looks at them disapprovingly).

Denali presses a kiss to Rosé’s bare shoulder and the pink-haired girl rolls over, placing a hand next to each of her shoulders and hovering above Denali with a wicked grin until Mik pokes his finger into her side and she collapses. Denali lets out a yelp, but she’s giggling while Rosé curses them both for ruining her moment.

“No funny business while Nali’s drugged up,” Mik reminds her gently - a rule they had to put into place after they made the side effects of her meds ten times worse due to some rougher activities.

It’s a situation that they’re not particularly willing to repeat.

Rosé rolls over Denali again until she’s in between them, sighing contentedly when Mik rests his head on her chest. “Movie?” she asks quietly.

“Disney!” Denali suggests, before wincing ever so slightly at the pitch of her own voice. She runs a hand through Mik’s hair and then places her head on Rosé’s other shoulder.

“I’m down for that,” Mik agrees.

“UP?”

“That’s Pixar, god, Rosie, know your animated films.”

“Potato, Potato,” Rosé replies, clicking on the title on Disney+ before tossing the remote to the side.

They don’t mention Rosé crying when Ellie dies.

They fall asleep to the end credits.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Dancing around like a clown at the circus

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Backyard boy, you make me nervous

*

Mik wakes up to aching in his lower abdomen and it sends a shiver of fear down his spine. His boxers feel slightly damp, and he’s grateful that he fell asleep with his head on Rosé’s chest.

He flips the soft comforter over so he can see the sheets, and the sight of the blood makes him more nauseous than his cramps. He weighs his options for a second before gently stroking Denali’s cheek with a sigh.

“Baby,” he says with a quick glance at Rosé’s lit up alarm clock. It’s four am. “Uh, Nali.” Denali lifts her head from Rosé’s shoulder and blinks her eyes expectantly. They’re bleary and she lifts a hand to rub at them before she properly focuses on Mik.

In the dim room, she can see the dark patch on the white bottom sheet and she gently palms his face.

“Let’s get you cleaned up love,” she says with an apologetic smile. He nods and watches as she rolls out of the wide double and swiftly locates the pair of period pants he keeps in a hidden pocket of his duffle. She looks between them and a tampon before tossing the tampon onto Rosé’s desk and then hands them to Mik, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “Go on, love.” She nods towards the bathroom and he smiles weakly, watching her shake Rosé awake with a gentle hand.

When he gets back, the bedside lamps are on and Rosé is stripping the bed, tossing the spoiled sheets into a pile on the floor. When he looks around for Denali, she stops and walks over to him, palming his chest over his t-shirt and snuggling into him the best she can with the small height difference.

“She’s gone to get the Nurofen and a hot water bottle,” she tells him - voice hoarse from sleep.

“I’m sorry-” Mik starts to say, but Rosé cuts him off with a steady hand on the side of his head.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything Gottlieb,” she asserts firmly. “It’s a natural thing that happens to bodies and you wouldn’t let me or Nali say shit if it were us-”

She looks sternly.

“-would you?” He nods in acquiescence and jumps a little when he feels a warm hand on his upper arm. He smells the coconut shampoo of Nali’s hair before he sees her.

“You wouldn’t let Rosie apologise when she bled on your favourite hoodie,” reminds Denali softly, handing him two tablets and a small tumbler of water before exchanging them for a hot water bottle. He sighs when he tucks it into his abdomen, and they make him sit at Rosé’s desk while they bustle around sorting out new bedsheets.

Rosé’s mum pops her head round the door at one point, causing Mik to flush red, though Denali waves her off. “Don’t worry about this, Mrs McCorkel.” She smiles wearily. “Periods.” She shrugs, and Rosé’s mum laughs, shutting the door with a low thud.

They all crawl back into bed, Rosé insisting on spooning him from behind while he holds Denali close. She presses her lips to the back of his neck, and he can feel her smile into the skin.

“You’re my favourite man, handsome,” she states, warmth in her voice. “I love you.”

He buries his face into Denali’s hair and lets the warmness lull him back to sleep.

*

Dance with me in my backyard, boy

Looking super fine in your corduroy (five, six, seven, eight)

Roll the windows down

Let the base drop low

And everybody’s talking

But I don’t wanna know

*

Denali yelps, pulling back from where she’d been straddling Mik in such a way that makes them both fall off the window seat and tumble onto the floor. Rosé looks over at them and scowls, a highlighter in her hand. She makes an obscene gesture with it and then sets it down.

“Can you two be horndogs literally anywhere else,” she asks, exasperated, and they both fall into giggles.

“I’m sorry!” Denali squeals as Mik runs a hand down her side. “Your boyfriend just gave me carpet burn from his damn moustache.”

Mik looks up, somewhere between awestruck and dazed.

“Maybe it’s retaliation for you giving me rug burn,” Rosé quips with a wink before looking at their boyfriend, who’s doing a perfect meerkat expression. Before she can blink, he’s on his feet and running towards the bathroom, where they hear a sharp squeak of excitement.

She holds a hand out to Denali who pulls her out of her chair, and they let their interlocked fingers swing together as they wander over to follow him.

In the middle of the counter, next to three empty vials of testosterone, is Mik. His eyes wide and unblinking, fingers stretching the skin of his upper lip so he can pinpoint a single pale brown hair.

Denali places a featherlight kiss on his exposed shoulder and then reaches to touch it, pulling back in mock anguish.

“Ouch!” she shouts, and Rosé stifles a giggle at her antics, rubbing a hand on Mik’s back to try and gauge how he’s feeling. He sighs into the touch and his shoulders relax a bit.

“That’s one special little dude you’ve got there, bubs,” she tells him with a look of pride on her face. “I think it needs a name.”

Denali looks at her and shakes her head, but Mik is already nodding slowly. “Jeremy,” he says, voice full of conviction.

“We’re not naming his face pube,” Denali fights back, hoisting herself up onto the counter so she can look closer. She ruffles his hair with her fingers and he swats her away.

“Two against one, love,” Rosé points out. “Jeremy the destroyer.”

She leans up and kisses his top lip. “There is now a fourth in this relationship,” she announces smugly, raising an eyebrow at Denali, who holds her hands up. Mik looks between the two of them in amusement.

“I’m not going to kiss the face pube-”

“He has a name,” Rosé cuts her off with a grin.

“I’m not going to kiss Jeremy the destroyer,” Denali responds petulantly, throwing a slightly damp flannel at her from beside the sink.

“Do you not support your boyfriend?” Rosé catches it and tries to throw it back, but Mik grabs it out of the air, holding onto it so he doesn’t get one in the face.

“Rosie McCorkel, you little bitch.”

Mik watches them, dismayed, but incredibly entertained. “Fucking lesbians,” he mutters under his breath, still smiling.

*

Feel the fresh air

I can feel your eyes stare

And I’m not gonna lie

I get a little bit scared

And my heart is on wings

I’m living in dreams

And at the top of our lungs, we sing

*

Denali smiles at him as she slips out of the glass door, wincing a little as her bare feet touch the sun-bleached patio stones. He feels Rosé flick some water at him from her place in the pool, but he flips her off, beckoning to Denali, who does an awkward little hop-scotch across the hot yard until she can slide down next to him on the sun-lounger.

He places a gentle hand on her exposed hip, but she clicks her tongue at him. “Mikkk,” she whines, and he places a kiss on her temple before he slides off the sun lounger and moves down to sit on the edge of the pool.

It’s such a hot day that even the lukewarm water on his legs feels like an ice bath, and he desperately wants to take his baggy shirt off, but the idea of sitting outdoors in a sports bra makes him squirm a little. Rosé’s neighbours could see.

She seems to catch his discomfort and she swims up to him, placing one hand on each of his thighs to hold herself up in the water.

“You’re so short,” he teases gently, but she just hoists herself up, straining her neck to place a wet kiss on his chin. She snorts into it and falls backwards, flailing in the water so he gets covered in a fine spray.

“You need to calm down,” he tells her, hearing Denali chuckle in the background.

“Come and make me,” Rosé replies as she swims further away. She tries to shake her ass at him - skimpy pink bikini bottoms pulled high up onto her hips - but she falls forward, head going under the water again.

“Did she ever learn to swim?” Denali asks between loud slurps of ice-cold lemonade, the book she was reading in the shade long forgotten.

“I really couldn’t tell you.”

He turns back to the pool and sees Rosé sitting on one of the bottom steps, hair ties in hand as she tries to braid her thick, pink hair - her fingers fumbling in an attempt that can only be deemed pitiful. He sighs, moving to sit behind her so his swimming trunks are completely submerged. She leans back into him gratefully, and he takes the hair bobbles willingly, weaving her two french braids.

He’s about to move after he finishes when he hears wet footsteps.

“Don’t run, love!” calls Rosé, paddling next to Mik so she’s leaning on the edge of the pool. Denali just scoffs, skidding on the water until she can dive straight into the deep end of the pool. He winces as she does it, hand reaching out to grip Rosé’s, but they both know that her ice-skater balance will save her. She does a messy front stroke over to her partners, her costume glittering in all of its tacky-mermaid glory.

Denali slides between his legs and tips her head back for a kiss, pouting until he gives her a chaste kiss, and then indulging Rosé, who scrunches her nose at the momentary lack of affection.

Mik sighs, pulling Denali’s long hair out of the messy bun it’s in and separating it into two. “Thank you, Mik, we love you, Mik, you’re the best boyfriend ever, Mik,” he moans, letting his fingers slide through her hair like silk.

Rosé tries to hide her laughter in a cough.

It doesn’t work.

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Everything is perfect

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

All our words were worth it

*

The euphoria he feels with a pride flag wrapped around his shoulders, billowing behind him like a cape, is unreal. He feels like he could fly if he wasn’t holding hands with Denali, who’s keeping him firmly grounded, and he’s making sure she doesn’t run off and get lost while Rosé has gone to find drinks.

Luckily, they see her before she sees them - Mik is a full head taller than Denali in his platform combat boots and can just about see over the crowd, so he spots the glitter down Rosé’s parting. She’s carrying three plastic cups with straws, and she’s trailed by a sapphic pride flag that’s looped through her belt loops, so it surrounds her denim cut-offs like a skirt.

They’d had a long conversation about the flag - she and Mik sat on the porch with coffee in hand. She’d bought it before they got together and she’s right when she says it looks pretty with her hair - the shades of pink all muddling together until she looks like a ball of cotton candy. He’d smiled and taken her hand in his, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her hair that still smelled of sleep and Denali’s perfume.

“I know you think of me as a man,” he’d said, feeling her squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, “and I know you like women.”

“I just don’t want you to feel left out,” she’d said, poking her tongue into her coffee to check its temperature before taking a long sip. Denali padded out onto the porch, bare feet on the wooden slats. She was wrapped in a tartan blanket and she sat down next to Mik with a huff, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

“I’ll survive not being the centre of your attention babe,” he’d joked. And that had been it.

It was the right thing to say because she looks radiant in the sun, and he takes the cold peach lemonade gratefully, handing off Nali-watch to Rosé as he adjusts his trans flag in a shop window.

He re-ties Denali’s bi flag while he’s at it, looping it through the straps of her dungarees so it won’t come loose in the crowd. She turns around and smiles gratefully, placing a soft hand on his barely-there stubble.

Rosé called them disgusting when she first saw them this morning, side by side in their matching crop tops and dungaree shorts. He’s got his own over a nude binder, and it’s the closest he’s ever felt to being shirtless, even with the way his chest is sweating in the summer heat. He knows Rosé’s rucksack has a spare top and bra for him - it’s a part of the reason why he loves her.

“All good?” Rosé asks, adjusting one of the pins in Denali’s flower crown (pink, blue and white) out of habit. She presses a quick kiss to the tip of Denali’s nose and then checks her braids in the shop window too.

“Am I still on Nali-watch?” Mik asks, half-joking and offering his arm for her to take, to which Denali laughs and waves her hand.

“I can get places myself, guys,” she giggles.

“You absolutely cannot,” Mik tells her, raking his hand through his sweaty curls.

“Not if we wanna get there on time,” chimes in Rosé, taking Denali’s hand and swinging it between them. “Now, come on!”

*

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

Dancing around like a clown at the circus

Da da da da da da

Da da da da da da

*

“We have a present for you,” Denali tells him, watching him comb hair gel through his curls in an attempt to tame them before he puts his graduation cap on. He smiles, watching her in the mirror as she curls the back of Rosé’s hair with deft fingers. Rosé flicks her eyes up from the eyeshadow palette she’s looking at, a small smirk playing on her lips, and she goes to say something, but then she stops herself.

“Well, now I’m excited,” he tells them, placing his tie loosely around his neck and leaning back against the countertop, watching them adoringly.

It’s moments like this that he just can’t believe his luck - how he’s got two beautiful women to call his own. Denali is a vision in lilac - a fitted bodice moving into a flared skirt that reminds him of the skating videos her mum showed him at Christmas. Her newly bleached hair is in a braid over her shoulder, and the loose baby hairs that just won’t submit to hair spray make him want to tuck them gently behind her ear.

Rosé resolutely told them she wanted them to die for her, and she’s really trying in a pink, bardot dress that shows too much cleavage to be appropriate for graduation. He supposes she wants to go out with a bang, and he’s not complaining, but he might need a moment before they leave just to collect himself.

“You look flustered,” smirks Rosé with one eyebrow quirked. It pulls him out of his throughs, and he flushes a darker shade of red at the comment.

“Stop teasing him,” Denali tells her, moving to put on some lip gloss before he can steal one last kiss. “I wanna get onto the surprise.”

“Impatient baby,” Mik jokes to get the heat off himself, and she bats a blush brush at him. He’s about to respond when Rosé places a hand on his cheek, guiding his body around so she can fasten his navy blue tie.

“Be good,” she tells him with a tap on the nose. “Now stay here for a second.”

He waits quietly in the bathroom while his girlfriends hurry off, coming back after a few minutes with an envelope and a tentative look on both of their faces. Denali hangs back, leaning against the doorframe with a crinkled nose while Rosé moves forward and holds out the envelope. She waves it at him and he takes it, feeling its weight in his hands. It’s light, but there’s something about it. He can’t figure out what it is.

He shoves a makeup brush under the seal and rips it across, drawing a snigger out of Denali, and Rosé rolls her eyes at them, holding out her hand for her makeup brush because she doesn’t trust him with it.

He holds it out of apprehension and he hears someone click their tongue at him with impatience.

Slowly, Mik pulls out a single sheet of paper and his breath hitches.

“No,” he exhales, feeling his tailbone hit the edge of the countertop in a way he knows will hurt later. He blinks a couple of times and the envelope falls out of his hands, grabbed by Denali who swoops in, placing a warm palm on his upper arm.

“Yes,” replies Rosé, a smile in her voice.

It’s a GoFundMe receipt printed on flimsy copy paper totalling just over $5000. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“The whole year pitched in - the school really,” Denali murmurs, her hand on him a grounding presence that keeps him tethered to this reality.

“I don’t know what to say.” He’s being totally honest, voice shaking under the weight of his emotions. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and he’d resigned himself to another four or five years without that. “It’s freedom.”

“You deserve it, love,” Rosé tells him, her smile softer than he’s seen in a while - softer than she tends to go without Denali pouting at her.

Denali reaches up and swipes the pad of her thumb under his eye to catch the tears he didn’t know were falling before straightening his tie and placing a firm hand on his chest.

“Come on handsome,” she tells him, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

*

Backyard boy, you make me nervous

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 2/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly

Chapter 2: The Swan Thief

“Do I really have to go to dad’s tonight? I was gonna help Will with all the planning for the barbeque!” Henry was packing his clothes into his small suitcase that he used on the weekends he spent with his dad.

“Yes, this is his weekend, and you know it’s important that you spend time with him.”

“I know, I get it.” He groaned. “But can I still see Will before dad gets here?”

“Alright, but don’t be late getting back, your dad will be here in less than an hour. You know how much he hates to wait.”

“That’s because he gets uncomfortable being around you for longer than two minutes.”

Emma laughed. “Well, let’s not make him uncomfortable then.”

As soon as his mother walked out of his room, he reached into his drawer to pull out the notebook he kept so well guarded. He stuffed it into his backpack and zipped it shut. Carrying his stuff, he tossed everything down by the door and slipped into the hall.

Instead of heading across the hall to Will’s, he walked next door and knocked on 4C. Looking around anxiously, he waited for an answer. As he was about to give up, the door opened, Killian stood in front of him, his hair disheveled with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Morning, lad. Everything alright?”

Henry glanced down the hall toward his apartment. “Yup, just checking in to see how your first night went.”

“Are you some sort of welcoming committee?” He joked.

“Nah, did Ruby come by yet?”

“Ruby?” He said with a twitch of his lip and a look of confusion on his face, obviously she hadn’t invited him to the barbeque yet. God, no one ever did anything urgently around here.

He heard a bark from behind the man and a dog came skipping out from one of the rooms. “Cool dog.” He exclaimed, slipping under Killian’s arm, and entering the apartment.

“Why don’t you come in and say hello to the dog.” The man said sarcastically before pausing with a sigh. “His name’s Smee.”

“Hey Smee. I’m Henry.” He looked up at Killian. “Anyway, I stopped by to invite you to a barbeque, since apparently Ruby hasn’t done it yet. And by the looks of the place, you might need somewhere to eat.” He looked around at the empty apartment.

“Yeah, my stuff is supposed to arrive tomorrow. So, what’s this barbeque you’re going on about?”

“It’s an annual thing we do here, barbeque on the roof to welcome summer. Everyone comes and it’s a good place to meet all the neighbors. You can bring a friend or girlfriend…”

“Ah, well, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I suppose I can bring a date.”

No girlfriend. “So, you’re single?”

“You’re pretty nosey for a kid.”

“Mom says I’m curious. You should meet her; her name is Emma.”

“I think I met her boyfriend yesterday. Graham I believe.”

“Oh him, yeah. He’s a security guard for old people.” Henry said, brushing off the question.

“I beg your pardon?”

Henry ignored the question, not wanting to get into any discussion with him about Graham. “So, you’ll come to the barbeque?”

The man laughed. “Well, I don’t suppose you give me much choice, lad.”

“Awesome, I’ll let Ruby and Will know.”

“Is Ruby your little friend’s mom?”

Henry shrugged, “Ruby doesn’t have kids.”

Killian just shook his head, “Alright, well I need to get to work, so I guess I’ll be seeing you at this barbeque.”

“Oh, where do you work?”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Do you work for the CIA or something?”

“I bet you work on a boat.” Henry mused.

“Bloody hell kid.” The man’s eyes widened.

“I knew it.” Henry cheered as he patted the dog on the head and walked to the door. “It was the anchor keychain. And you seem like a boat guy.” He shrugged, stepping out into the hall. “See ya later, Killian.”

The door shut behind him and the grin on his face grew wide. He knew he was a Captain. He just knew it. He ran back to his apartment, turning back quickly to knock on Will’s door.

“Oi, I thought you went to Neal’s today.” The man answered with just a pair of shorts on. “You know I sleep in on Saturday’s.”

“Sorry, just wanted to tell you that 4C is coming to the barbeque.”

“Bloody hell, I didn’t even talk to Ruby yet, how did he know?”

“I invited him, we’re friends.” He said with a shrug, turning and entering his apartment, closing the door behind him. As soon as he did both of his parents turned around from the spot they were standing.

“There he is. I told you he would be on time.” His mother said with an icy tone.

“Hey kid, you ready to go?” His dad walked toward him, grabbing his bag from the floor.

“Yup.” He wrapped his arms around his mom and hugged her. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“You too mom.” He squeezed her tightly and then gripped his backpack, turning to his father who nervously shifted toward the door.

“I’ll have him back by 7pm tomorrow. See ya then, Ems.” He paused, then opened the door, ushering Henry into the hall.

“Be good, Henry.” His mother hollered after him.

“Hold the elevator.” Henry looked up as his father called toward the man at the end of the hall. Henry smiled when he recognized Killian.

“Hey, Killian.” Henry greeted him happily as he entered and stood next to him.

“Hello again, lad.”

“This is my dad, Neal.” He said, staring back at his dad. “Dad, this is Killian, he just moved in next door.”

“Perfect.” His dad mumbled under his breath. “Why isn’t it ever an old lady?”

“Sorry, Mate, what did you say?” Killian inquired.

“I said, nice to meet you.” His father lied. Henry wanted to laugh at the man’s immediate reaction to Killian. His dad always seemed to be intimidated by other men, especially if they were anywhere near his mom.

He had long since given up the childish notion of his parent’s getting back together. While he was sure his dad still had an interest in his mom, he had overheard enough conversations between them where his mother had made it clear that there was no future between them.

His mother never said a negative thing about her father to him, but he was old enough to know that his dad wasn’t exactly husband material. He had heard Ruby refer to Neal as a “grown child” when she and his mom had returned from one of their “girl’s night out” parties.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor and Henry parted ways with Killian with a wave, climbing into his dad’s truck for the drive across town. His dad lived in the city, preferring to be in what he referred to as the hustle and bustle of the big wigs or something equally as stupid as that sounded.

As soon as he got to his room, he pulled out his notebook scribbling excitedly after the events of the afternoon.

Captain Jones strutted through the town of Bostonia, observing the townsfolk as they scurried around preparing for the annual ball. Occasionally he caught the eye of a maiden milling about, sizing up his options for the evening. He had been summoned by the King on an urgent yet delicate matter, one that required him to be discreet regarding the reason for his visit.

As he approached the castle, a guard gestured to him and immediately escorted him to the back of the castle, he was led into the garden and told that the King would be with him shortly. Killian had never been to Skyline Manor before, he was unfamiliar with the town of Bostonia, and its inhabitants.

“Captain Jones.” He turned and saw a man striding toward him. Surely this was King David. He bowed, then stood to meet the man’s eyes.

“Your Highness, I came as soon as I got word of your request.”

“I appreciate your expedience, as well as your discretion in this delicate situation.”

“I fear I do not know the details of why you have summoned me.”

The King caught the eye of his guard and nodded slightly, the man stepped inside the castle walls, leaving them alone. “I am not sure if you are aware of my sister’s situation.” Killian nodded that he did not know the situation that the man was speaking of. “Princess Emma is to choose a husband at the upcoming ball.”

“I am not looking for a wife.” Killian said with a slight chuckle.

The King laughed heartily. “No, no. My sister is being courted by a dear friend of mine, Duke Humbert. It is my hope that she will choose him to marry on this night.”

“Then I truly am confused as to why I have been summoned.”

“I don’t want anything to distract my sister from her suitor. However,…” He leaned toward the Captain. “Have you heard of The Swan Thief?”

“Aye, he is renowned throughout the lands. No one knows his true identity, yet he has managed to lighten the purses of many a kingdom. The rumor is that he has a reputation of sullying plenty of fair maidens in his wake.”

“Including my sister.” He said quietly. “Many years ago, my sister placed her misguided trust in him when he was but a young man, he deceived her, and she was left with a son. Obviously, the scandal of an unwed Princess suddenly finding herself with child would have brought dishonor on our kingdom and thus Princess Emma hid away until Sir Henry was born. Our people were told that Sir Henry’s father died and abandoned him, his pockets full from the kingdom’s coffers and Princess Emma took pity on the boy and raised him as her own.”

“And what of the boy? Does he know of his origins?”

“Sir Henry knows that he is the son of Princess Emma and that if the truth came out, it would be dangerous for both he and his mother.”

“My apologies, your highness. Your sister’s virtue aside, how does this involve me?”

“I have it on good word that The Swan Thief plans to disrupt the ball this evening.”

“He is in town?”

“Yes, my wife, Queen Margaret has received a special jewel from the Queen of Arendelle. I believe he will attempt to steal this item.”

“And you would like me to stop the man? Why me, I’m certain you have very capable guards?”

“You have a certain reputation, one that has reached the shores of Bostonia. You are the most feared Captain in all the realms, and you always catch your man.”

“For the right price.” The Captain added.

“Yes, and I believe you will find this price to be most pleasing.”

“And all you require of me is to capture this Swan Thief in order to take my payment?”

“Discreetly, yes. I do not wish my sister or my nephew to know of his presence. His being here would be most unpleasant for the festivities and my sister.”

“And where will I find this Swan Thief?”

“I believe he is on his way to the castle, even as we have this conversation.”

“And you will divulge to me his true identity?”

“His name is Neal Baelfire.”

~*~

Emma spent the rest of the evening nervously cleaning the apartment. She was never prepared for Henry to go to Neal’s. Half the time he would call and cancel hours before Henry’s was to leave, other times he would show up thirty minutes early wanting to know why he wasn’t ready to go.

As much as she wanted her son to have a relationship with his father, she hated the fact that she had to share him at all.

Her front door opened, and her best friend Will came bounding through the room. “Do you have beer over here?”

“I thought it was BYOB tonight?”

“It is, but I forgot to go shopping because I slept in.”

“Which one was it, did you forget to go shopping or sleep in?”

He laughed nervously, “Which one gets me beer?”

“Why do I love you so much?”

“Because I’m handsome and I put up with you?” He jumped over the back of her couch and landed on the cushions below him.

“How old are you?”

“Come on Em, please?”

The door swung open, and Ruby walked in with a twelve pack of beer and a bottle of rum in her hand. “Let’s get this party started.”

“My hero.” Will exclaimed, jumping up to unload Ruby of her treasures.

“I figured you would forget again.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

“I knew you loved me.” He said lovingly, kissing Ruby on the cheek.

“Eww, you know we’re never gonna happen right?” Ruby shoved him toward the kitchen.

“Only in my dreams, lass.” He teased in their usual ritual.

“Where’s Graham?”

“He gets off at eight, he’ll be here in a bit.”

“Is that when they put the old people to bed?” Will laughed.

“You’re as bad as Henry.” Emma groaned. “He has a great job.”

“I know. I’m kidding, Emma. It’s just…sometimes he’s a bit…”

“Wooden? Boring? Predictable?” Ruby chimed in.

“You guys are terrible friends.” She complained. “He’s a really nice guy and I like him a lot.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Emma gave them both a warning glance before she opened the door. However, it wasn’t Graham at the door but the new neighbor she had seen in the hall the night before.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, lass, I’m your new neighbor. Killian Jones.” Emma tried not to stare, she really did, but the voice was mesmerizing and his eyes kept drawing her in, suddenly she found herself unable to blink. “Hello?” He repeated and she shook herself out of her trance.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m Emma.”

“My stuff is still being delivered and the moving company lost a few of my boxes. You wouldn’t happen to have a bowl I could borrow?”

“Um, sure, yes I mean. One second.” She turned around and wandered into the kitchen, looking through her cabinets for a bowl.

“So, you’re the mysterious Jones in 4C?” Will questioned the newcomer. “Henry told me he invited you to the barbeque next weekend.”

Emma’s head snapped toward Killian. Her son invited him to the barbeque?

“Um yes, the lad is very friendly.” He said with a tone of discomfort.

“Here you go.” She offered the bowl toward him.

“Thank you, love.” He responded and she felt as if her tongue was swelling in her mouth causing her to be unable to speak.

“Uh yeah, no problem.”

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

“Of course.”

“Well, enjoy your evening.” He turned to leave before Ruby crowded behind her.

“You like poker or alcohol?” Emma turned and glared at her friend. “We’re having an adult night.” She announced with her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth.

“Oh, well, I’m making dinner for my date, actually. But thanks for the invite. Perhaps another time.” He said with a smirk that made Emma’s heart race.

“You’re welcome any time at my place. I’m just across the hall at 4D.” Emma shoved her friend backwards into the apartment.

“Thanks again.” He smiled and Emma slammed the door shut quickly.

“Oh my God, Ruby, I’m surprised you didn’t throw your bra at him and start screaming his name.”

“Did you see that man? Damn.” Ruby sighed.

Emma bit her lip, she had to admit the man was easy on the eyes, but he did just say that he was making dinner for a date. And oh my God, she had a boyfriend. Greg or Garret… her brain was suddenly going blank.

~*~

Killian walked back to his apartment in a haze. So that was Henry’s mother. He had only caught a glimpse of her when he saw her in the hall previously, but up close she was almost intoxicating. It was a true shame that she was attached to the man he had met previously.

He opened the door to his apartment, Belle standing at the counter stirring the pasta on the stove. “Did they have a bowl.”

“Aye.”

“Oh great, it’s always nice to have good neighbors.”

They finished preparing dinner, sitting down at the table with Belle to enjoy their hard work. “I forgot to mention that I was invited to a barbeque this weekend, care to join me.”

“Who invited you?”

“Apparently I moved in right before the annual barbeque. Henry, the lad next door invited me.”

“You got invited by a kid?”

“Aye, odd child, very curious. Possibly working undercover for the CIA.” Killian joked.

“Aww, you made a friend your own age.” She teased.

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious though, it’s nice. Maybe he doesn’t have any other friends around here.”

“Not true, he said his best friend lives across the hall. I think he said his name was Will.”

“Well, I think it’s sweet.”

“You think everything is sweet, lass.” He teased.

“I think you’re sweet.” She blushed and he tried to ignore the smile on her face and the way she stared at him with emotion in her eyes.

“You wound me, French. I may be dashing, dare I say devilishly handsome even, but sweet? You take that back, woman.” He chased her down the hall toward the bedroom, capturing his prize as he dragged her into the darkened room.

~*~

When Henry returned home the next evening, he found his mother lying on the couch, her sleep mask over her face. “Mom?”

His dad dropped his bag on the ground loudly and Emma jumped from the couch. “Oh hey, what time is it?”

“It’s 7pm.” Neal announced. “Are you sick?”

“Not really, no. Headache.” She groaned. “Did you have fun, kid?”

Henry glanced at his dad and lied. “Loads, we watched Pokémon and ate pizza.”

His mother started to laugh, and Henry narrowed his eyes. She immediately recognized his warning. “Well, that’s great. Sounds fun.”

“I’ll uh guess I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” His dad announced, and Henry wrapped his arms around his waist before taking off down the hall toward his room as he shouted his goodbye.

He stopped at his door, listening to his parents talking softly in the other room.

“So, about the next visit. I have to…” His dad started before his mom cut him off.

“Seriously, Neal?”

“I’m going out of town for a couple of weeks. Business.”

Henry rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure the business he was talking about was a dark-haired woman with big boobs that his dad had spent all weekend facetiming.

“Did you tell him already?”

“I was kind of hoping you would just let him know.”

“Of course you were.” He mother said flatly.

“I just hate seeing the disappointment on his face.”

“Maybe try not disappointing him so often then.”

Henry sighed and quietly closed his bedroom door. He tossed his bag into his closet and slammed himself down onto his bed with a thud. Digging into his backpack he pulled out the old notebook and scanned through the last words he had put on paper. Biting his lip, he grabbed his pencil.

Neal Baelfire sat alone in a darkened corner of the Thirsty Lion tavern in the port of Bostonia. The busty red haired bar wench sauntered over to him with a cold mug of beer, slamming it on the table as the suds poured down the sides of his glass.

“Anything else I can get you?” She cooed.

“How bout some company?” He offered. “Perhaps just the two of us?”

“You payin’?” She said with a drawl.

“You got a room here? I need a place to stay.” He asked, dropping a cloth bag onto the table, the sound of coins clanging together bringing a smile to her face.

“Let me get you a key, sugar.”

As the woman retreated, Neal watched the portly man on the other side of the bar, drinking his pint alone. The man was always on time, never a moment late. His plan was falling into place. Soon he would take what he needed, what was owed to him. He would be able to afford the life of luxury that was denied him, that she had kept him from. Once he had the ice diamond, he could afford a new life, far away from Bostonia.

Once he had the ice diamond, he would have his son again.

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I felt as though since this story had such a specific narrative (especially delving into the harsh world of modeling and the effects of discrimination) that it would reach out to a very specific niche of reader.

I was actually astonished by loud support this fic has obtained so for, so thank you so much! I cannot stress enough how much that means to me. 

HnM 💕

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Month 1, Month 3

--Month 2--

No.

You looked at the stick of plastic in your hand with wide eyes as your mouth stuttered into a slack jaw—your breaths hardly making their way in and out of your lungs evenly.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you saw white spots underneath your lids before you snapped them back open again, internally praying that you would wake up form whatever nightmare you were having.

However, you couldn’t blink away the big, fat smiley face that stared back up at you from the piece of purple and white plastic that sealed your fate.

No. No. No!

The sudden urge to puke came back with a vengeance and you threw yourself to the toilet, slamming your knees to the ground in the process. As your stomach lurched up into your chest, you couldn’t tell whether the tears forming in your eyes were from the harshness of the motion or something else entirely.

“Gah!” you loudly choked out as you pulled away from the mess in the toilet. 

Once the nausea became slightly less debilitating you leaned back against your bathtub, throwing your head up as you groaned to the ceiling, “No, no, no, nooo…” you softly sobbed. You tried your best to keep from bawling so you didn’t find yourself with your head back in the bowl, but you couldn’t help the stream of hot tears that spilled from your eyes as you stared at the vent in the ceiling.

How could this happen? How could you be… pr...

A sudden stirring in your gut made you swallow hard as you tried to keep your stomach out of your throat.

Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. You took sex education in high school. You put the condom on the banana and were scolded with constant threats of STDs and the fires of Hell like everybody else. So yeah. You know how it happened.

You sighed as you thought back to all the guys you had slept with recently-- which was luckily not too many within the past few months, and only one since your last period.

Fuck, you didn’t even remember what the damn fathe-- guy looked like.

Well, excluding his rippling muscles.

You threw your head into your hands as the uncanny image of a body builder newborn infiltrated your mind. Well, that didn’t fucking help at all. Grabbing your hair tightly as you stared at the tile between your legs, you cursed yourself, “You dumbass! How could you be so goddamn stupid!? Stupid, stupid, stupid!” you repeatedly knocked against your skull.

You reached into the recesses of your memory for any information you might have about the guy. Where was his apartment again...? On the other side of town somewhere right… Near Club 52? God, you didn’t even fucking know! and what did it matter anyway, huh? What were you gonna do? Storm up to his place, pregnancy tests a-blazin’, and tell the complete stranger that you were carrying his kid?!

With a weak and tired moan, you lifted yourself off of your bathroom floor and went to the sink to rinse your bile infested mouth out and wash the salty tears off of your cheeks.

But not before you got a good look at yourself in the mirror.

Swollen eyes.

Red nose.

Drying, teary snot pooling on the rim of your upper lip.

“You look like shit,” you harshly reprimanded yourself before turning the sink on and sticking your face into the cool water. Your hands blindly reached around your counter until you finally grabbed a nearby hand towel to bring to your face. As you patted your cheeks dry, your eyes wandered to the counter where three other positive pregnancy tests that you had taken earlier that morning resided.

The trio all sported a similar smug smile as they looked up to you as if to say ‘we told you so.’

The little shits.

“Shut up.” You quickly grabbed all four tests and with a hint of bitterness chucked them into a nearby trash bin before making your way to your bedroom across the hall.

Plopping down onto your screeching mattress, you took your phone out:

Boss Lady

[2:50 pm]

Hey, brat. I hope you’re doing better.

Don’t forget that we have that runway fitting next week. And the test shots. And the international scouting event.

Think. Thin.

No carbs. No red meats.

NO ALCOHOL!!!

Fucking no alcohol for nine whole months. You attempted to scoff at this, but what came out could have probably been mistaken for the last sounds of a dying animal.

Kimi:

[3:31 pm]

Hope you made it home safe last night!

As you read this text, a piece of you wished that maybe you hadn't made it home safe last night... Your brain briefly wandered into the dark territories of ‘what if’s’ as you imagined falling in front of the train at the subway, walking past a drug deal gone wrong, hell-- drowning on the water you took with your Pepto Bismol. You quickly brushed these thoughts away as you continued looking through your phone, 

Boss Lady

[4:45 pm]

Oh, also Deku just asked for a meeting with you personally.

You’re going of course. Glad you got his attention. Good girl.

Tomorrow.  5:00pm. El Vino’s downtown. (EAT LIGHTLY!)

Inches! Inches! Inches!

You slammed your phone down onto your mattress as you loudly sighed.

Inches. Your entire livelihood depended on your damn inches and now there was no way you could maintain the “golden ratio.” The thought made your blood churn.

Modeling… was all that you had. You didn’t have any other fucking talents—no quirk to depend on-- so when would your growing stomach steal your life away?

When do people even start ‘showing’? 

You haven’t come across many pregnant women, but all of the ones you have seen either looked like normal people or like freaking beach balls. For some reason your brain couldn’t conjure an intermediate.

Did they just blow up out of nowhere? If so, then when? How long could you pull a ruse off before your growing organ snitched on you? 5 months? 6 months? Next fucking week?

You realized then that you knew next to jack squat about pregnancy.

Or damn kids for that matter.

Okay so... abortion? For some reason, even just the thought of that word made an icky taste surge in your mouth—or maybe it was the leftover vomit, who knows?

To be honest, you had never really thought much on abortion before—it was one of the many topics filed into your brain under ‘that does not and will not pertain to me, so why the fuck should I care?’ Filtered out and forgotten, your feelings on abortion had yet to be developed.

Until now.

After a few beats, you opened your phone back up and began to dial Kimi, fearing that you might soon explode with the brunt of knowledge that weighed heavily upon your shoulders.

You paused.

Had you ever actually talked to her about anything that wasn’t exclusively work related? In the past two years of knowing her, have you ever actually learned anything about her, and she about you? Very suddenly, you were slapped in the face by a crude fact: Kimi was just a work-friend.

That was fucking fine and dandy up until now. You pretty much either worked, or drank, or showed up to work drunk. But now…

Shit.

Who the hell else could you call? You barely had any friends, and you hadn’t talked to your family in what felt like ages. Who was there for situations like this? If half of your life was working, and half of your life was drinking, and your work friends were a no go… what about your drinking friends? Your mind briefly fled to the stashes of your best buddies-- vodka and tequila-- that you kept in your kitchen.

But not even they could save you now.

Fuck you really were alone.

That night, you found yourself constantly flipping your pillow to find a new dry spot to assault with fresh tears. You hadn’t cried so much since you were a kid. Wait-- come to think of it, you couldn’t even remember the last time you had cried at all.

So, was it hormones? Pregnancy hormones?

The surreal thought made your tears fly down your face even more furiously.

The next evening there was practically no trace or evidence of your mental breakdown from the night before as you strolled up to El Vino’s. It was honestly kind of frightening how quickly you had managed to pull yourself together before this little meeting—but mostly, it was empowering.

Okay, Y/N. You fucking got this. Hormones or not, you were still a baddie to your very core.

Deku was easy enough to spot in the little Mediterranean themed restaurant—with the green-ass hair and all. You strolled up to the table with the warmest smile that you could muster, “Mr. Deku,” you quickly approached his table and gave a slight bow.  

“H-Hey!” You seemed to startle him with your sudden appearance. He jumped a bit in his seat and awkwardly shifted as you made your way to your own chair. His face was a bit red as you maintained your eyes on his shying expression. 

“Look, before you say anything. I just want to say sorry,” his shocked eyes suddenly snapped back up to yours as you continued, “I had no idea that the event was yours and I probably ruined the rest of the night for you. If you want me off the brand deal, then I completely understand, just... don’t blame Ainu’s agency.”

His mouth fumbled over itself for a moment, causing you to quirk an unsure eyebrow before he could finally speak up, “No t-that’s not what I am here for at all, Miss L/N.”

“Call me Y/N. please,” your smirk was a little less sure than usual and you prayed that he couldn’t detect how off he had thrown you. This was going much different than you had expected it to. For one, he wasn’t trying to ‘put you in your place for disrespecting him’ or bargain  sex ‘as an apology’ like most power hungry men in his position would.

“Okay, M-miss Y/N,” the blush that adorned his cheeks confused you even further and you felt the space between your eyebrows involuntarily tighten. That was another thing… He didn’t seem like a typical man in a position of power. He was… soft... you didn’t know how else to explain it other than unusual for a man of his size and stature.

“I actually wanted to apologize to you,” he spoke up once more and you were completely lost by then. You could only blink as he continued to speak, “You really got me thinking about things the other night-- you were totally right. The brand of my sneakers did lose its true meaning. I really meant to have it be a symbol for kids growing up without a quirk to enjoy—to give them hope, but it turned into more of an endorsement to myself. The whole thing. It was wrong. That’s why I have decided to give 100% of my personal Red Sneakers profits to establishing my Quirkless Youth Initiative,”

You looked around for any hidden cameras—any hidden agenda behind his motives before looking back to him with a stiff expression. You had to physically keep your face from scrunching, “And just how are you going to make a living out of a mindset like that?” you dared to call his bluff.

“It’s just gonna have to work. It’s what my mentor would have done—given 100%. Beyond actually.”

Holy shit. This man was being serious. ‘100% and beyond’ serious, to be exact. Your face scrunched up once more, “Why do you care so much anyway?” you cut back on your tone as you noticed his eyes widen a bit at your accusatory voice, “Not to be rude, but… what’s a strong hero like you doing caring about us quirkless?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment or two. Contemplating on whether or not he was going to lie, you noticed, “I… I…  didn’t have a quirk until much later in life. I was 14. Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero, and I just wish that I had someone back then believe in me. I want to be the one that tells kid’s—with a smile-- that they can do it. That they have at least one person who believes in them.”

His name-- Deku-- it meant worthless. The puzzle pieces were finally coming together and things began to make sense. It was a name that either himself or others used to describe him when he was growing up probably, and the man had taken it and spun it around to make it his own. Even you had to admit--

“That’s pretty damn impressive,” you couldn’t help the curl that tugged into the corners of your lips as Deku bashfully looked away from you,

“It’s nothing, really!” he tried to deflect. You gave a small laugh before smoothly bringing up the glass of wine in front of you to your lips. As soon as the liquid rushed in your mouth, your eyes flew wide open with realization,

Shit! What the fuck were you doing?

You immediately spit the alcohol back into your cup and snapped your eyes back to Deku who had, thankfully, been too caught up in his own embarrassment to be paying attention to you. You gave a sigh of relief and sat the wine glass as far away from you as inconspicuously possible. 

“So,” you leaned into the table a bit to get his eyes back on you, “Tell me about this Quirkless Youth Initiative,” you smiled. 

From that point on, you and Deku actually found talking to each other relatively easy—okay, extremely easy. In fact, you stayed past the point of dinner and ended up talking at your table hours after the bill had been paid.

You talked about everything and nothing altogether and didn’t know just when to end the conversation. You lowered your borders for some reason. Well-- you knew the reason. It was because you had been dying to talk to someone since you found out that you were the ‘p-word.’

 He ended up walking you home. Past that, for the next two weeks you guys pretty much saw each other every other day or two and talked fairly regularly. Things became habitual.

In fact.

As you stood in the beaming light of the wardrobe, getting your makeup done, you found yourself stealing little glances here and there to your phone to text with your new friend, Deku. Every buzz of your phone left you with a giddy sense of excitement.

One of the models sharing the gigantic mirror with you quickly took notice of your demeanor, “What are you smiling at, Y/N?”

“She’s texting someone,” another spoke up as your friend/babysitter, Kimi strolled up next to you,

“What?! Y/N L/N texting someone back? Have we entered the Twilight Zone??” she joked. You only responded with poking your tongue out at her before your phone buzzed again, 

Deku:

[1:00 pm]

Good Luck on your runway thing today!

You:

More like run away thing🏃‍♀️💨

Deku:

I could help? Bring comfort snacks?

You:

Most of us haven’t eaten a full meal in days BB

You would literally be stampeded by women

Wait that sounded too good🤔

You will literally be stampeded by hungry women***

Deku:

You haven’t been eating?!

Since when?!

You:

That’s not what I said. 

Just pre-show prep to keep the waists snatched and the legends skinny💁‍♀️

Deku:

Sorry I don’t know how your job really works.

I’ll come over again tonight after your show and bring dinner!

If that’s okay. Sorry didn’t mean to sound pushy.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Deku really hit it off on their date,”  Your attention was instantly snapped away from your phone screen.

You gave an ugly snort, “It wasn’t a date.” And you certainly weren’t lying. The friendly atmosphere between you and Izuku felt comfortable as best—nothing intimate about it.

You wouldn't have it any other way. It felt as though he was placed in your life to perfectly fill the holes in your boat just before you started sinking.

“Girl your phone is blowing up!” a co-worker exclaimed, loudly.

Kimi laughed as she pinched your cheeks, “Look at that smile on her face”

All of the commotion gathered the attention of Boss Lady, who was currently storming up to you with the ‘phone box’ (or phone cemetery as some of you liked to call it) in her hand. She liked to have this on her especially in big events like runways or show casings because some of the girls—you were guilty as charged—spent quite a bit of time on their phones behind the scenes, “Phone. Bin. Now.”

Usually, you would put up some type of argument or give a quick-witted remark, but this time around you only rushed to send one final text in before you threw your cellphone into the crate.

You:

[1:33pm]

I should get off at like 11 see you then broccoli boy🥦🤪

Kimi looked terrified as though she was the one who had just incurred Ainu’s wrath, “Still smiling, huh...?” 

You hadn’t even notice that you had been.

Talking to Deku really did make you happy when you needed it. Just like he spun ‘deku’ around and made it make sense, he had spun your life around and did the same. He made you feel like life was normal—whatever the hell that was. You’d never really been classified as normal anyway, but you had some impression that this resembled what it must feel like.

For a fleeting moment you think that maybe you should just sleep with Deku and pass this pregnancy off as his since you had yet to tell him-- or anyone-- about it. 

But the better half of you instantly slaps this thought out through your ears.

Hello? Welcome to psycho bitch incorporated. Seriously. What the fuck was wrong with you?

Damn, you had been separated from your phone (and Deku) for exactly 23 seconds and you were already outta your cot-damn mind. You get one friend and suddenly you don’t know how to act. 

You needed to somehow find “blond muscle man” and let him know what was up. Fuck, how were you supposed to do that when you didn’t even know his name?

The runway that night went pretty much how every single other runway went, except this time-- you opted not to attend any of the after parties. Instead, you went home and had Deku over, who delivered on his promise with sushi. 

You could smell the sushi as soon as he walked through the door and your mouth instantly watered. He really was god sent. 

The two of you settled quickly in your apartment, deciding to risk it all and eat on your living room couch to watch TV; however, you quickly noticed that the TV wasn’t the only thing that Izuku was watching. As soon as you turned to raise an eyebrow on him he feebly attempted to avert his gaze, but you caught him anyways, “What? You better stop sizing me up unless you wanna fight, Deku,” you sang as you popped another sushi roll into your mouth.

“W-what sizing you up?!”

You cackled at the sudden redness of his face, “I’m just joking. We both know I’d probably kick your ass!”

“You think so?” he actually sounded a bit nervous in his tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, I know so,” you shrugged with a growing smirk, “Anyway. What are you staring so hard at me for?”

The air became very still around the two of you as he looked down to think. This was something that became pretty expectant of him these past few week-- a funny little habit.

“It’s just… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few weeks and I never really noticed it—your… dieting,” he seemed to fall into that last word a bit as if it wasn’t exactly the word that he had wanted to use. 

You knew that he meant to say ‘starving yourself’ but was too reserved for that level of bluntness. That was okay with you. You weren't particularly ready to open that can of worms, “Damn, and here I was thinkin’ I was looking pretty damn good,” you joked as the both of you began cleaning up your food mess.  

“No. That’s not what I meant I—”

“Joking! I’m just joking with you, Big D,” you found yourself using this nickname for him whenever you wanted to see his face fall into it’s deepest shades of red. It worked every single time,

“I have just been at this for a long time—modeling for Ainu’s agency. Since I was 15 actually,” you shook your head a little at the surge of nostalgia that wanted to bubble up your back. You clutched a nearby pillow and hugged it to your chest, “She scouted me at a mall food court. She changed my entire life—for the better of course. She is practically my mom... I owe her a lot,” you found yourself giving into the nostalgia a bit-- a small, fond smile tugging at your lips. You looked up after a few beats of silence filled the air and was met with Deku’s admiring stare, “What? You nerd!” you exclaimed with a giggle, chucking the pillow at him. 

“It’s nothing. I just like hearing about you. I feel like I have been doing a lot of talking about me since we have been hanging out.”

Yeah, he was a Cancer zodiac for sure. You pretty much knew his entire life’s story after only the first week of knowing him, “Are you kidding me?! Your life is straight out of a comic book, BB! I love hearing about it!” You began talking to him from out of the kitchen as you put your leftovers in the fridge,

“You went up against the League of Villains, the Vanguard Action Front and The Paranormal Liberation Front as a freshman?? You powered up from a quirkless crybaby! (Hey!) to an amazing, uprising, super considerate, overpowered crybaby on his way to number one! Your U.A. friends all seem like comic book characters, too. I love them already from what you tell me,” you closed the fridge, revealing his shocked expression.

“Really?” You nodded, igniting a spark in his eyes, “Well, I am actually having a little get together at my place for my friends if you wanna stop by.”

“Yeah sure. As long as my favorite character, Kaminari, is there,” Izuku seemed shocked and slightly offended by your choice in favorite, so you clarified, “He sounded really cool and all with his ‘chatty zappy’ thing going on,” you suddenly rolled your eyes as a bad taste emerged in your mouth, “Kacchan sounds like a little bitch baby though, no offense.”

“Y/N!”

“What?! Kacchan can ‘Kach’ these ‘hans’! Oh come on. Not even a pity laugh? A little one?” You apparently thought you were a lot funnier than Izuku did. 

“I think the two of you might actually get along. You’re very similar now that I think about it,” he trailed off on his last part, seemingly talking to himself as he grabbed his chin. 

You almost felt offended by his comparison, “Fuck that. Oppisites attract, Similars repel. Besides. Why would I wanna be friends with a little bitch baby that bullies and pisses on quirkless people?”

“Well, when you meet him next week you might like him…”

You clicked your tongue, “So now I am obligated to come, huh?” you smirked.

“N-no well that’s not what I meant but I would appreciate if you—”

You were only half paying attention to his freak out as the abrupt craving for orange juice infiltrated your mind and placed itself on the forefront of your thoughts, “Deku. I am joking!” you absentmindedly reminded him as you scoured your pantries for a wine glass. You had taken to drinking out of these instead of regular cups to at least maintain a semblance of your old self. 

Izuku’s eyes widened at the sight of your collection of wines and alcohols in one of your cupboards. You smirked at him-- throwing him  look that said ‘you ain’t seen nothin yet’ as you opened your freezer to reveal the insane hoard of alcohol you had stored.

His jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight, “Holy woah, you have an entire liquor store in here!”

“Saving for a rainy day,” you almost immediately realized the error of your words as Izuku motions to one of the windows near you. The two of you sat in a beat of silence as the pitter-patter of rainfall splattered against the glass pane.

“It’s raining today,” he grinned excitedly. 

“No... I cant,” the way that the words fell out sounded about as convincing as a disguise with groucho glasses. You could really go for a drink right about now.

He looked to you a bit sadly, if not disappointed, “Y/N if this is about your diet… I am just saying, I don’t think one day will hurt too much.”

“No, I really shouldn't.” Understatement of the century. 

Izuku grabbed two glasses out of your cupboard with a soft smile gracing his features, “We’ll pour you just a little bit in case you change your mind—”

Maybe one glass wouldn't hurt... No. NO! God, you knew he meant well, but he is really fucking making this hard for you!! “I cant, I’m pregnant!!” you suddenly yelled. He immediately froze, 

“Wha...?”

“I’m pregnant...”

“Oh... Uhhh congratulations,” the most unconvincing thing to have ever come out of his mouth probably, “Who…”

“I don’t know,” the look of utter horror on his face had you instantly backtracking your answer, “Well—let me rephrase that. I do know who it is, but I don’t know his name. It was a umm.. ‘Wam. Bam. Thank you ma’am’ type deal.” Your face began burning as hot blood rushed into your cheeks. You literally couldn't have phrased that worse if you tried. What the hell was wrong with you? 

“You don’t look pregnant...” the horror on his face now registered into your mind as pure shock. 

“I sure as hell would hope not. I am like a month-ish along—I think.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor?”

“Uhh no...” He was right, you didn't even look pregnant. There was no way in hell that you needed to go to the doctor yet. Right?

“W-wait! Y/N the night we met! You were drinking alcohol!”

“So? I am probably only like a few weeks pregnant and I drank like two glasses. I am sure it didn’t do anything…?”

“Are you really sure? How can you know!? You have to go see a doctor!” he looked terrified. It was as if he suddenly was the embodiment every stressed emotion that you had been shoving away from you these past few weeks and the sight scared you. 

“You’re freaking me out, Deku.”

He instantly froze, “S-sorry,” he looked down to his shoes. Maybe you just might let him pour those drinks after all. He looked like he could use both of them right about now...

The next week dragged on for what felt like eons, as Izuku seemed to cautiously dance around the topic of your “preexisting condition.” It was quite obvious that every time the topic came up, a cloud of discomfort would come and sit on his shoulders; however, the man still made it a point to urge the fact that you needed to set up a doctor’s appointment.

Eventually, you caved in and scheduled for one at a local clinic, but they couldn't get you in for a few weeks anyway-- the joint was at maximum capacity, you guessed?  Apparently, there were more pregnant bitches waddling around than you thought.

Still, Deku urged you to read up and research some things prior to your appointment so that you could ask the doctor any questions that might pop up. It seemed like he was almost way too into this-- taking notes in a composition notepad that he dubbed “Baby Notes Vol 1″ and even mentioning coming along with you to your clinic visit.

It made things extremely real. 

Your little safe space with Deku had effectively been conquered and subjugated by the little parasite that took residence in your body. You shook your shoulders with a sigh as you neared Deku’s door for the party. 

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK* 

When the door opened you couldn't help the way that your eyebrows flew up in surprise at the sight of a woman opening the door. Uhh... did you go to the wrong house?

The brown haired girl in front of you looked just as surprised as you-- if not even more so. 

Okay, you definitely went to the wrong house.

The sudden sound of Izuku’s voice coming deep from withing the apartment led you to breath easy. You deflated a little bit as you relaxed. You wouldn't have to make a mad dash in a lagged game of ‘ding dong ditch’ after all,  “Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you.”

A series of emotions flashed across her expression at your greeting: shocked, nervous, then... disappointed? “Y/N! I’ve heard... so so much about you!” the smile that stretched across her lips seemed almost painful, “I’m Ochako Uraraka! I... love your hair!” she threw out the last part like a rabbit would throw steak to wolves. 

“Thank’s...” you felt fucking awkward and she still hasn’t let you into the apartment, “I’ll make sure to thank the stylist and the bottle of dye she used.”

“That’s not your real hair color? It looks so healthy though!” she seemed heartbroken as she used a pitying tone and you could gauge that the pity was not for yourself. 

“Nah. My agency pretty much determines what hairstyles I wear...”  You made eye contact with Deku inside of the house as he made his way to the door... Thank god! you were saved from that terribly awkward interaction.

“Agency? Hero agency?”

“Modeling, actually. I’m not that badass,” you smirked before walking into the party.

Her figure deflated as if to say, ‘of fucking course’, “Oh. That’s cool!” You didn’t see much of Uraraka after that 

Meanwhile, Bakugou was just a tick away from being angry enough to kill. His roommates had all three convinced him to go to this get together over Deku’s house and they weren't even going to be there on time! 

He had honestly never been to a party with these losers without at least Shitty Hair being with him, so he wasn’t exactly sure how it would pan out and that really bothered him. He wasn’t exactly social at these events, but at least the three stooges kept him somewhat entertained (he would never admit this aloud).

What could those other losers possible do to entertain him?

“Whyyyyyyy?” he heard crying as he neared Deku’s home. His face scrunched in on itself even further than usual as he approached the whining noise. He scoffed at the inebriated mess in front of him,

“What the hell are you doing, round face?”

Uraraka, who was leaning against the edge of Izuku’s front patio looked up, causing Bakugou to deeply grimace at the germy snot that trailed down her red face, “Deku’s new girlfriend sure is cool. He deserves someone like her, right? She’s perfect!” Bakugou couldn't help the way that his face shriveled into itself in disgust. 

It wasn't too late. He could still turn around and go the fuck home and no one would even know he was here. Well, save for bubble cheeks here, but she probably wouldn't even remember to be honest. 

But as soon as Bakugou turned back around to make his escape Uraraka spoke up again, “She’s a model. They met at the Red Sneakers Event apparently,” Of course this piqued the man’s interest. There were only a few models branding the event and he just so happened to be searching for one of them. Uraraka continued with her drooling of words as Bakugou brushed past her and made his way into the house-- not bothering to knock,

“You know I am the one who gave him that idea in the first place? It’s kinda like. I set him up with his future wife!” she drunkenly cried to no one in particular as Bakugou stormed away.

He passed Iida on his way in, “Go get round face and shut her drunk ass up-- she’s outside,” he didn't bother on stopping to further explain before walking back to the commotion of the party.

 As soon as he entered the packed room, his eyes landed on you. It was like the Red Sneakers Event all over again. You were simply glowing-- hard to miss-- especially with the crowd of his old classmates hovering around you like some damn flies on shit-- especially Deku. He was way too close to you-- the rat bastard. 

“Oooh! You’ve been to Milan! That’s so cool, girl! So you must get to sight-see like a lot!”

The way that your shoulders leaned and swayed as you talked sent flutters into Bakugou’s heart. Fucking gross. He watched you speak very intently-- searching for the magic you had used to bewitch him, “Actually I was working a lot when I was there, so I really only got to see the sets and runways,” you made fleeting eye contact with him from across the room, furrowing your eye brows a bit at his stare before breaking the gaze. 

“Do you get to keep the outfits after the shoots?!”

“Pfft. Hell no! This loser still hasn’t sent me a pair of his red shoes. What happened to helping the quirkless, huh, broccoli boi?” The most primal urge of jealousy that Bakugou had ever felt sprinted through his body as you leaned over to playfully tap that shitty Deku in the arm. The feeling was so intense that he hadn’t even registered what you had said fully. 

“You’re quirkless?” Racoon Eyes inquired, snapping Bakugou out of his feral trance. His face fell a bit as he dutifully awaited your answer. 

“Yeah. It’s whatever,” you shrugged.

“The competition must be so difficult!” Momo spoke up as she placed and apologetic hand to her chest. The gesture made you tense up a bit, but you reminded yourself that she probably didn't mean it in a belittling way as she continued,  “I’ve been to a few magazine shoots myself and it is always girls with flashy quirks who end up in front and center!”

“Well, I compete well, I guess,” you knew that hero hero modeling and your fashion modelling were two completely different worlds. Designers saw you guys mostly as clothing racks and mannequins for their clothes, so usually they wanted their models to be as mundane as possible-- not to distract from their fabric art. So basically the perfect job for someone like you, “it’s no big deal. I get by like everybody else.”

“You just live your life like normal!”

“Awhhhh. Y/N. You’re an inspiration!”

Suddenly you felt extremely tired. You couldn't find the energy within  yourself to filter out and soften your next response, “Glad I could inspire you just by breathing I guess.” you gave the girls a slight smile as you shrugged, but the undertone of your comment had not gone unnoticed-- especially by Bakugou who found himself stifling a proud smirk.

You once again made eye contact with him in this moment-- this time not daring to backtrack your gaze until he did-- a warning sign to back he hell off with that staring shit.

As the night progressed you found yourself becoming more and more tired. The debilitating sense of sudden fatigue actually felt like it had taken over even your bones at this point as the aching structures weighed heavily inside of you skin. You decided after about an hour that you were gonna make an early trip back home.

“What, why!?” Deku scanned your face nervously-- he thought you had been having fun!

“Just really damn tired suddenly.”

“Oh...” he trailed off, but suddenly realized the hidden context of your words. Baby Notes vol 1 page 4 section 3: ‘prenatal fatigue’, “Ohhhhh okay! Right! Well Let me call you a taxi or something.”

“Nahh, I’ll walk,” you waved him off as you made your journey toward small crowds of his friends-- waving them goodbye. Deku followed you in your path around his house, 

“W-what? You can’t be serious! You shouldn’t do that!”

You turned around and threw your hand on his shoulder, causing him to instantly freeze up, “I’ll be fine,” you smirked throwing your hand up to his cheek to gently pat his face. Of course, he was left a shivering, blushing mess. It was a low blow, but, hey, it gave you a good opportunity to escape. 

You felt a wave of relief as soon as you made it a few steps outside of the apartment. You released a heavy sigh as you continued walking away. 

Finally. You internally planned the rest of the night in your head: orange juice, Netflix and sleeeep. You could finally just let yourself relax and--

“HEY!” you jumped out of your skin a little at the sudden loud shout. You whipped around to see that blond spikey-haired dude from Deku’s house attempting to close in on you. 

You rolled your eyes as he neared. Hardly throwing him a glance as he approached you to walk a little behind you, “God. You’re the weirdo that was staring at me all night,” you groaned, hoping he would catch your drift. 

“We need to talk!” 

One of you eyebrows instantly quirked up as your lips curled into a look of disgust. You whipped back around towards him, “Look, I am actually tired as hell, so excuse me for my bluntness, but FUCK OFF!” You only caught a glimpse of his flabbergasted expression before you spun back around to storm down the stairs entering the subway. 

“You really don’t know me?” he sounded pissed. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“Oh! it’s you!” you snapped your fingers at the sudden realization, 

“You’re Kacchan!” the look of disgust that hardened on his face intensified by ten fold when he heard you use that nickname. You continued regardless as you neared the train platform, “The asshole bully who likes to pick on quirkless kids. Yeah, well, I don’t give a damn how great you think you are, buddy. You can really fuck off now!” you spun once more to ditch him; however this time around your ankle twisted from underneath you, causing your body to fall down toward the ledge of the platform where underneath the tracks resided.

Bakugou cried out something like ‘you idiot!’ before grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into him before you could completely fall down the ledge. Everything happened so quickly that you hadn't even realized that you were holding your breath until you gasped heavily into his chest.

With a shocked expression you trailed up his neck to his face until you were met with his vermilion eyes, “Shit…” suddenly a wave of familiarity crashed into you. you breathed deeply, “I-It’s you...”

[dzamie-oc]

04 - Stained Glass

Bright "Dork" Penny is actually from a few /tg/ threads in late 2018, in which we had the fun idea of an adorkable dragon, and steadily built a town around her. This is from pretty early in her introduction to the town, before most of the suggested campaign plot hooks.

Length: 2100 words Rating: E (though contains brief mentions of violence) Summary: A dragon is enamored by a stained-glass window, and wants some of her own.

-----

Clearwater was a fairly average port town; according to the fishermen, it was even idyllic. When the wind blew just right, the smell of fresh fish and bread filled several streets. When it blew just wrong, of course, the farms managed to be perfectly upwind, but such were the risks. It was situated on the coast of the Great Crystal Lake, a veritable sea full of water so fair it sparkled like an enormous, polished sapphire when the sun found a good angle. In years past, several traveling poets had said of Clearwater, “it was exactly the sort of town an epic tale would begin in, only to have an unfortunate encounter with a dragon to start things off.”

And, well, they weren’t exactly wrong. But neither were they right.

The morning sun fell on the town, and in particular an old barn kept apart from the rest of the farmed plots of land. The front of the building was missing, and for several reasons, never replaced. One such reason poked her red, scaly head out into the outside air, with the rest of her soon to follow. Dorakathen Azurakluzzelenark Nur Zulauknagh, or “Bright Penny,” looked around, noted that someone had dug up her latest attempt at planting a sheep again, and gave her wings a nice, big stretch and flap. A soft groan from within the barn caught her attention, so she turned around to face the slowly-rousing woman within.

“Oh, Gwendolyn, did I wake you? I guess it is kinda early, still.”

The young woman sat up and waved her off. “No, no,” she said, “I’m used to being up with the sun. Do dragons usually sleep later?”

“Well... I do. My mother would always head out before the sun rose, said something about making sure she’s back before humans usually tried to steal from her.” The dragoness drew in and let out a big breath, taking care to keep the fire out of it, this time. “I never knew what she meant by that. You guys are pretty friendly, and with how often the ones around her lair seemed to gift her their old, claw-marked armors, I can’t imagine any human trying to take something from her lair.”

Gwendolyn thought for a few seconds on that, opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, and instead asked, “so, Dork, how long is this happening, again?”

Bright Penny’s mouth curled into a smile. “Oh, the kidnapping? Just a week, same as how Mom would do it.”

“The, uh, the same?” the human said, paling. While the young dragoness seemed friendly, if a bit misguided and, well, inexperienced, her mother, Bloodstained Ruby, was an entirely separate matter. If any tale of life under her claw managed to escape her grasp, it was always one of terror and bloodshed. Her lair was filled with glittering, shining treasures and adorned with colored glass as red as her scales, all gained through pillaging, extortion, or both. While nobody knew for sure, any fool would guess that, if a ransom wasn’t paid, the hostage would serve as the main course for her dinner. Gwendolyn’s mouth went dry as she looked at the cheerful dragoness with her sharp claws and sharper fangs. “How... how would Bloody Ruby...?”

The red dragon sat back on her haunches and put a paw to her chin. “Well, sometimes humans would visit her with a big pile of gold and stuff for her hoard - and now that I’ve seen how much you guys usually have on yourselves, they must’ve really liked her! - and she’d go get her kidnap-ee, and then the humans would all leave together and Mom would have a nice smile for a while. Um, and then other times, humans wouldn’t come, or they would but I guess they weren’t the ones the kidnapped human knew, because Mom would shoo them away, or claw them if they went crazy and tried to stab her. I always thought that was too strict, since her claws are half the length of their bodies while their swords were pretty small to her.”

Gwendolyn glanced around the barn, looking for an exit that the dragon would have trouble following her through. “And, what about the kidnapped human after a week of... no visitors?”

“Oh, she’d ask whether they’d like to leave or get eaten - I guess she didn’t really have patience for long-term visitors, especially seeing as how she kinda did technically kick me out of her lair eventually.” She furrowed her brow. “It was weird, though, humans could definitely go up and down that mountain, but they always seemed to get eaten. ...is that a human thing? Because I don’t think I’m up for it with you. I hope that’s not rude.”

The woman’s brain fizzled for a moment. “Um... okay, I’ll... we’ll talk later, but as long as leaving after a week is one of those options, I’m fine.”

“Of course!” The dragon nodded vigorously, then got to her feet again and made her way out of the barn before looking back. “I’m gonna go see around the town for a while. I know I don’t really have all the actual kidnapping stuff like a fancy dress for you and a pole to lean against, but I’m trying my hardest, so please don’t escape?”

Bright Penny took a few steps away, then froze, spun, and stuck her head back under the barn roof. “I mean, unless it’s an emergency, of course.”

Her fears momentarily assuaged, Gwendolyn let out a laugh. “Of course. Have fun, Dork, I’ll be right here when you get back.”

“Great! Okay, see you, Gwen!” Bright Penny trotted away - this time, without turning back - and wasn’t able to see Gwendolyn put her head in her hands, trying to process what the dragon had oh-so casually said about her mother. Instead, the dragoness hummed a wandering tune and let her feet carry her to a rather interesting-looking building.

As she approached, she was drawn to the beautiful stained-glass windows in each wall. One showed a sheaf of wheat, its opposite showed a few fish hanging by lines, and the third had a woman in a plain dress, holding a sickle in one hand and a net in the other. Bright Penny circled the building a couple of times, then took a seat in front of the fish one and stared at it, admiring the way the sun pierced through the glass, giving a strange sort of energy to the art. She moved her head back and forth, playing with her shadow on the glass.

After a few minutes, a man exited the door on the unadorned side, and peeked around the corner. “Uh, excuse me, dragon? You’re the one who’s been staying at Brown’s old barn, right?”

Bright Penny turned towards the voice, looked around for a couple of seconds, then smiled when she saw the face. “Yes, that’s me. I’m Dorakathen Azurakluzzelenark Nur Zulauknagh, nice to meet you.”

“Dora Kathen Ashoora... er, pardon me.”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m still not used to being around people who don’t speak Draconic. It means Bright Penny, but some helpful adventurers said I could be called Dork for short!”

The man looked unconvinced, but slowly stepped out from behind “cover.” He was dressed similar to many of the Clearwater residents Bright Penny had seen, though his body was less toned or worn, so she guessed he did something that didn’t require much heavy lifting. “Well, Dorakathe- uh, Dork, what brings you to our town’s temple?”

“I just thought, if I’m going to go about figuring out how to be a proper dragon, I should know more about the town I’ll be- what was that word Mom used? Not terrorizing, uh... monitoring?” She shook her head. “Anyway, I kinda got distracted, and seeing these really pretty jewels made me remember that a dragon should have a hoard, and I don’t. So, may I please have one of these?”

One helpful thing about outlandish requests is that they are superb at making one forget that the one who asked was a dragon. As a prime example, the man replied, “what? No, they’ve been part of this temple for generations,” before his brain finally caught up to the rest of her words, so he quickly added, “uh, t-terrorizing? Where does your mom do that?”

“I’m pretty good with my claws; I’m sure I could help patch up the hole,” the red dragon cheerfully replied, then caught herself. “Oh, you mean ‘part of’ as in ownership. That’s alright, then. Where can I get one, then? ...also, what’s your name? I don’t remember if you said.”

“Abraham, I’m sort of this place’s priest. I’m not sure where you’d get something that big or intricate - again, it’s been generations - but you could ask the smithy. I know he can do regular windows.” Abraham said, then took a step back. “Also, what was that thing about terrorizing?”

“Oh, yeah, my mom’s Bloodstained Ruby. I think she’s just dramatic with that, though; it’s hard to believe she causes terror, with how many presents people keep giving her. Kept. But she probably still gets them after kicking me out, too.” With a destination in mind, Bright Penny unfurled her wings and crouched, preparing to take off. “I’ll go check the smithy out, then. Thanks, Abe!”

The words “Bloodstained Ruby” and “mom” were still sinking into Abraham’s head while he watched her go. He fell back against the temple wall, breathing heavily, then ran inside to begin praying to more gods than usual.

A peaceful stroll down an empty street and one abandoned-and-therefore-free fish later, and Dork found herself at her destination. Luckily for her, a red, fire-breathing dragon was not enough to scare away the blacksmith, who insisted that he’d weathered a lot worse - and she agreed, seeing as she was going to be pretty good at dragon things and therefore easy to be worse than. Although initially dismayed that she had nothing to pay for glass with, her enthusiasm soon swayed him to teach her how to make some, herself.

“Look, I’m sure it’ll wear down eventually, and until then, having a solid boulder of glass IN the beach is a bit of a novelty,” he said, “but I must admit, that may have been the most effective way I’ve ever seen to teach someone to make sure molten glass should only exist in something that can hold it.”

Bright Penny nodded and tried again, breathing fire around a large, metal cup filled with sand. Once its contents got nice and soft, she carefully dumped it into a mold she’d carried from his workshop. It was slow to spread out, so she reached out...

“No! Don’t!” the blacksmith shouted in a panic. When she looked at him, worried, he remembered that she wasn’t just another foolish human apprentice, but rather a foolish dragon. Waving his hand, he said, “nah, you’re fine. I’d burn myself doing that, is all.”

As they waited for it to cool, the dragoness looked down at her shadow, then up to the sky. “Oh! I’ve been out awhile, I should head home soon, after a quick stop by the bakery for Gwendolyn.”

“Gwen? The baker’s daughter? Whatever for?” A tough old smith like him, he could see hanging out with a dragon. But Gwendolyn? She was closer to a proper lady - in her mannerisms, if not by her upbringing and hobbies - than near anyone else in the town. “Also, take yer glass. It’s still hot, so don’t go touching it to anything, but it oughta keep its shape, or near abouts. Wouldn’t use it for a window, but it’ll look fine.”

“Oh, I kidnapped her, so her dad’s helping me make sure she can eat right.” The dragoness lets out a rumbling laugh. “You should’ve seen her reaction to him cutting shapes into her sandwich.”

In his mind, the blacksmith went over the locations of several swords, spears, and other weaponry that might prove useful in a rescue. “Kidnapped, eh?”

“Well, I did ask her first. Then I made sure to carry her and fly away, so I’m pretty sure it still counts as a real dragon kidnapping.” Bright Penny picked up her glass in one scaly paw and looked at it. “By the way, how do I get it to be all colored like the temple has?”

The man put his weapon-finding thoughts on hold until after he talks to the baker. “Hm. Well, tell you what. I’m busy tomorrow, but come by the day after and I’ll show you.” Either way, that would give him time to organize a few good men if need be. “I’ll get the mold back, myself.”

“Okay! Thanks so much for the help. My hoard’s gonna be so pretty...” With a leap and flap of her wings, Bright Penny was airborne again, thoughts of stained-glass dragons in her mind.

[heartofsnark]

This Is Love (Chapter Twelve): Evil Comes In Disguise

Notes: This one is shorter than others but it felt like it took me so much longer, I blame Cyberpunk 2077 for stealing my one braincell for a while. Also, I have a tendency that the longer it takes me to write something, the more insecure I feel about it, so I ended up cutting this chapter a bit shorter than I originally intended. But I think it works and I hope you enjoy!~

Word Count: 8686

Chapter Warnings: Talk of physical assault, hospitals, POV switches, Joseph visions, me trying to write police investigations/interrogations to minimal success and struggling to write Jerome for the first time properly. 

For chapter one and the warnings about this fic’s overarching themes, please click here!

For the previous chapter; click here!

And the clock ticks and ticks and ticks and ticks. Every second feels like an eternity. Every moment of silence seeming to stretch on for hours. Her nerves fray with each one, worry blooming like a flower in her chest. The tension palpable as the three deputies and Sheriff wait to hear what will become of the town pastor. Dahlia’s mouth starts running before she can stop it; to distract herself or her distraught friends, she doesn’t know. 

“How long have you all known Pastor Jerome?” 

“Oh, Jerome’s been in Hope for…fifteen years or so,” Whitehorse tells her, thinking a minute over the exact timeline. 

“He took over the Falls End church when I was thirteen,” Hudson adds, “so yeah, fifteen years.” 

“Wow,” Dahlia can’t help but exclaim, astounded by just how long they’ve all known the pastor, he’s been with the county for more than half of Hudson and Pratt’s lives. 

“St-,” Pratt swallows his words then starts again, stuttering, “still remember my mom making me give my first confession to him…I was terrified I was gonna go to hell, get kicked out of church, break my mom’s heart.” 

“What did you do?” 

“His mom caught him looking at porno mags,” Hudson rats him out, laughing. Whitehorse cracking a smile and Dahlia snickering. 

“I was eleven, shut up,” he tries to defend himself through his own laughter, “yeah, Jerome thought it was funny too, told me everything was okay and then it was.” 

Rook can just imagine it, Pratt as a kid, terrified that god’s going to smote him for looking at a tit. There’s a bittersweet quality to the four smiling and laughing at the memory; the anxiety and fear still looming but it’s a little easier to breathe. The weight crushing down on them is a little lighter than it was before. 

“If he makes it out of this, we need to go back to church,” Hudson tells Pratt after a beat of silence. 

“We do, don’t we?” 

“Officers?” A man in a doctor’s coat calls out to them, the same one who stitched her head back together before. 

“Is he okay?” 

“We stabilized him; we got the bleeding under control and it looks like we won’t have to transfer him after all, he should be fine to recover here. We’re still monitoring him, but things are looking up.” 

There’s a sigh of relief; maybe just from Whitehorse, maybe from all of them. She can’t even tell. Things are looking up, Jerome is likely to live and none of them will lose someone who clearly means so much to them. 

“What exactly is it that happened, doctor?” 

“Someone out in the valley called 911; the heard scratching at the door and when they looked he was collapsed on their front step. That’s all we know at this point, but as I told you, this was clearly an assault. The bruises, the bleeding, it all matches with brute force assault and with the severity we do believe it was multiple people who attacked him.” 

“Who the fuck would wanna hurt Jerome?” Hudson asks, more to herself than anyone else. 

“You’re all free to stay in his room, so you can question him when he wakes up, but I don’t know how reliable his memory will be with what he’s been through.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” 

 The four go into the hospital room and Dahlia clenches her jaw when she sees him. Bruises mottle and color the friendly face she’s seen around the county; a myriad of red and purples across him. One eye swollen, stitches and bandages in places where the skin broke. They were trying to kill him; that’s all Dahlia can think. This was an attempted murder, his body is hidden under a hospital gown and blankets, but she can see from his arms that the damage extends over his body. A IV gives him a steady drip of fluids to keep him stable, a heart and oxygen monitor letting the staff know he’s staying that way. 

“Jesus fuck…” Pratt whispers under his breath. 

Hospital coffee and more stories of the pastor pass the time as the four settle in; the time Jerome comforted an emotional fourteen year old Hudson when she spilled communion grape juice on her white dress. Whitehorse talks about how often he’s visited the church to talk with Jerome. 

Hours pass of the four talking, Dahlia downing five or more paper cups of coffee across the time. And then a cough sound rings out, a shift of fabric, the pastor slowly waking up. Whitehorse calls out for the nurses; the deputies shifting in their seats as he comes to. 

The nurses flood in, checking on Jerome’s vitals, ensuring he can comfortably sit up in his bed. He’s an older man, not as old as Whitehorse, but probably as old as Jacob or Joseph. Mid to late forties. With short dark textured hair and a dark beard.

“What the hell happened?” Whitehorse asks when the nurses are done checking on the Pastor. 

“John Seed,” The pastor begins, and Dahlia clenches her jaw, “he and members of Eden’s Gate kidnapped me, he tried to force a confession from me and when I didn’t comply; they beat me and left me in the woods. I tried to get help the best way I knew how, but I passed out before I could speak to anyone.” 

Dahlia doesn’t have time to think, to ruminate on what this means, what might be going on; Whitehorse telling her to grab the evidence collection kit he brought in. There’s not much to be collected, but their best bet of getting any conclusive evidence is swabbing Jerome’s fingernails. There’s nothing to get fingerprints off of, no weapon, no duct tape, no bindings. No bodily fluids exchanged, thankfully for Jerome’s sake. But, if he fought back, grabbed at his attackers, there’s a chance the blood under his fingernails could belong to them. That he managed to gouge their skin deep enough to leave a trace. 

“Sorry, this might hurt a bit,” Dahlia gives a gentle warning when she sees the broken and bloodied state of his nails, gently swabbing blood from under them, making sure to collect from each finger before dropping it into a vile. 

“I think I’ll make it,” he manages to say, a slightly dry laugh, his voice deep and resonant.

“I know you will, but still don’t wanna add to it.” 

“Jerome, you said John Seed, did you recognize anyone else?” 

“Lonny, Theodore, and Patrick were the only ones I know I saw…The way John talked he was doing it because of Joseph, that he ordered it… Eden’s Gate is getting worse every day.” 

“Don’t worry, Jerome, we’re gonna do everything we can, Hudson, take the sample back to the station to see if we can match it to anything already in our database.  Pratt, Rook, want you to start pulling the peggies in for questioning and getting DNA. Start with Lonny Stevenson, Theodore Rossi, and Patrick Michaelson. No arrests, not yet, just questioning. We’ll handle the Seeds later, alright?” 

“Understood.” 

There’s a heavy tension in the cruiser as Pratt and Dahlia climb into it. Jerome is alive,  there’s a weight to what he’s told them and to their duty to get justice for him. Pratt’s knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, jaw clenched, and shoulders wrought with tension. Pastor Jerome has been an important figure in his life. She can’t imagine how hard this must be for him. She thinks of how much worse she might feel if it were Lloyd or Whitehorse in that hospital bed, someone she were close to. Dahlia squeezes Pratt’s shoulder as they drive, hoping her empathy shows through the touch. Even as strangers, her stomach is in knots, though it may be because of her…connection to the accused. 

Despite their constant encroachment on boundaries, stepping on the line but never quite over it, Dahlia had maintained her hope that the Seeds and their flock were good at their core. That’s why she turned Cassie into their hands, but everyday there’s something new. And this is the worst yet. If they’ve truly done this, if they’re ordering full out assaults on people, that does a lot more than just cross the line. 

One of their three main suspects, outside of the two youngest Seed brothers, works at the Green-Busch Fertilizer Plant, an Eden’s Gate owned business. And for possibly the first time since she began working in Hope County, Dahlia is the one leading the charge as they get out of the cruiser, Pratt not trusting his own voice. 

“Patrick Michaelson,” she calls out and a man steps out, “we need to have a word with you down at the station.” 

He’s generic by Eden’s Gate standards, too long hair and a scraggly beard. His arms are covered, so she can’t check for scratches or bruises along them. 

“I in any trouble, deputies?” 

“Just need to ask some questions; Theodore Rossi or Lonny Stevenson here? We need a word with them as well.” 

“No, but I could ring ‘em for you?” 

“We’ll chat first, then you can call them from the station, alright?” 

“Whatever you say, officers.” 

The last thing she wants is for them to have a chance to put together a story and alibi before they start questioning them. They allow Patrick into the back of the cruiser, he seems to be maintaining his cool. And the tension in the car only strengthens as they take him back to the station. Dahlia watches him in the mirror along the way, waiting for some sign of anything to peek through, for a sleeve to ride up and to see scratches from Jerome’s nails, something. But nothing of the sort happens. 

Dahlia has never actually had to interrogate or question anyone, she realizes once they’re at the station and having Patrick take a seat. She doubts he’ll give them much information. If he’s innocent, he won’t have anything of interest to tell. If he’s guilty, he won’t want to tell them much of anything. Getting a DNA sample is what’s going to be the most important thing, if they get some conclusive evidence, something that links one of the Eden’s Gate members to Jerome’s assault the rest will come much easier. 

“Coffee?” She offers, as she pours black coffee into three paper cups.

Patrick murmurs a small thanks before he drinks from the cup before they start asking him questions. Hours pass of trying to ask the same questions in slightly different ways or tones. Dahlia trying to stay friendlier in her tone while Pratt is terser, due to his personal connection. But getting more than a ‘I was at home, last night,’ is like trying to get blood from a turnip. He refuses to give a DNA sample as well. 

“We about done here?” Patrick asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

“Fine,” Pratt grumbles, “I’ll walk you out and you can ring Lonny and Theodore for us.” 

Dahlia taps her fingers against the table as the two men walk out, breathing a sigh of relief when Patrick leaves his coffee cup. It takes a few minutes and then Pratt comes back, he collapses into his chair and groans, she can feel the stress radiating off of him. 

“Well, that was a waste of fucking time,” he grumbles. 

“How you figure?” 

“How you figure anything else?’ He looks at her incredulously, like she’s grown a second head and breathed fire. 

“Left his cup,” Dahlia pokes at the little Styrofoam cup, “our property, we wanna swab it for DNA, our business and don’t need anyone’s consent for it.” 

“I’ll run it down to evidence, you brew another pot for the next two.” 

“On it.” 

Pratt runs that down, the cup bagged and labeled with Patrick’s name, she’s sure. Lonny and Theodore aren’t far behind. And their questioning goes much the same. They don’t give particularly direct answers and refuse to give DNA samples. Theodore avoids talking as much as he can, mostly opting to glare at the deputies after his first insistence that he has no idea why he’s here and has no obligation or desire to talk. But, he does at some point break his sourpuss expression to take a drink of coffee. Lonny is cockier, more aggressive, making snide comments but he drinks coffee at some point too; so that’s all that matters.

By the end of it all, three cups are sent down to evidence to be swabbed for DNA to be tested against the DNA found under Jerome’s fingernails. If it’s from any of them, they’ll know by hopefully the end of the day. Evidence based cases are rare around here, so the forensic team stated they can fast track it, hopefully

Pratt and Dahlia rest in the bullpen office, Hudson joining them. There’s a somber air to the entire office. Hudson’s leg bounces with nervous or angry energy, Dahlia isn’t sure which. Meanwhile, Pratt is wringing his hands until the skin rubs raw. Their worry is palpable as they wait for either more information or direction. The oppressive silence has started to weigh on Dahlia’s shoulders, she’s tapping her fingers against a table. 

“You know,” Dahlia says after too long, “you guys can go see Jerome if you want, I’ll call if any info comes in.” 

She knows they’re worried about him and want to be there to check on him. There’s no reason for them to sit here and suffer when she can just let them know when the analysis comes in. 

“We’re not gonna leave you to man the station by yourself,” Pratt dismisses her out of hand, as if the idea that she can be left alone is ridiculous. 

“I think I can manage for an evening, anything happens, I know how to reach you all.” 

“I’m going,” Hudson declares, “I trust Rook and I’m driving myself crazy here.” 

“Thank you, Hudson…” Dahlia says with soft smile, Hudson actually trusts her and isn’t acting like she’s a child. 

“You coming?” Hudson asks Pratt, looking at him expectantly. 

“I’m not leaving Rook here alone.” 

“I’m an adult, you know that, right?” 

“If Eden’s Gate was willing to attack Jerome, who knows what else they’ll do. And you’re already on their radar, were before this.” 

“What, you think they’re gonna storm the station?” 

“Who knows anymore.” 

“I don’t have time to listen to you two bicker, I’m leaving,” Hudson tells them before walking out of the station. 

Dahlia chews her lip once she’s left with Pratt. This is already a stressful day and not the time to let her wounded ego guide her behavior. But it is wounded. She’s not a child, young sure, but not a child and by no means incapable. Pratt has been coddling her and trying to limit what she does since the beginning of her job, she thought it was lessening, but… Does Pratt seriously not think she’s competent enough to be left alone for a few hours? Is she that unreliable? Incapable? Does he think that little of her? 

She doesn’t lend a voice to these insecurities or anger; not the time or place. 

“Don’t pout,” Pratt says after a few minutes.

“I’m not.” 

“You are, I can physically see you pouting.” 

“Even if I was, it’s not important.” 

“Seriously, Rook? You wanna be a brat right now?” 

“Seriously, Pratt? You wanna be a patronizing dick right now!?” Her voice is harsher than she intended. 

“Deputies?” A voice calls out, one of the workers in their piddly little forensic department poking their head into the open office. 

“Yeah?” 

“We got a match for the DNA found under Jerome’s fingernails.” 

“Who’s our guy?” 

“Patrick’s matched, we couldn’t find any traces of Lonny or Theodore’s.”

“I’ll call Whitehorse,” Pratt says before getting out his cellphone, “figure out what we’re doing next.” 

Dahlia only nods, not trusting herself after her outburst. Her fingers still tap tapping against a desk as Pratt speaks to the sheriff. She can only hear Pratt’s side of the conversation as he explains what they were just told and agrees to whatever Whitehorse is telling him, before he hangs up. 

“So, what’s our next move?” Dahlia asks, voice cracking more than she’d like. 

“Arresting Patrick and questioning the Seeds. He wants a lighter touch with John and Joseph, his words, not mine.” 

“Lighter touch meaning…?” 

“They can be questioned together if they want, given a day and the chance to come in on their own terms. Whitehorse doesn’t want us ruffling their feathers unless we get something conclusive on them.’ 

“I’ll never get why he wants to walk on eggshells around them.” 

“Because they’re nuts and got a good hundred or more people who’ll fight for them.” 

Dahlia shrugs, she gets that, she guesses. But its still hard for her to wrap her head around that the men she’s met could order an assault on someone else. A part of her is still holding onto the hope that Patrick just acted on his own, that John and Joseph had no idea. But, Jerome says John was there. And John’s not exactly a face he could confuse with someone else… 

“C’mon, let's go get Patrick.” 

He’s at his house at this late hour, knocking in the door of his little farmhouse. Patrick answers the door, face souring the moment he sees the officer. His lips are sealed, not speaking a word to the deputies as they read him his rights and bring him into the station. He refuses to speak for a long while, even as they book him and try to ask him a few more questions. 

“I wanna call my lawyer.” Is all he says after an entirely too long drag of silence. 

“John, your lawyer?” Pratt asks. 

“What of it?’ 

“We need to have a chat with him too,” Dahlia informs him, “so we’ll be happy to call him for you.” 

“Fine.” 

Dahlia stretches out her back as her and Pratt leave the interrogation room, this day has been her longest yet, but they seem to be getting somewhere. She looks over to Pratt. 

“Want me to call up John or you wanna do the honor?” 

“I will, they like you too much.” 

“Have zero idea what you mean by that, but alright.” 

Pratt grabs the station phone and rings up John’s number. Dahlia chews her fingernails as she waits, biting away at them and chipping her nail polish in the process. When she runs out of nail that goes past her fingertips, she chews at the skin. Mind racing as Pratt talks to John, she feels like her thoughts and feelings are tearing into two directions. What she wants to be true and what evidence supports. The older deputy hangs up the phone and Dahlia looks up at Pratt expectantly. 

“John says him and Joseph can be here in a few hours, chances are Jacob will be with them.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Anytime either of them have been questioned, Jacob’s there, just to look mean I guess.” 

She nods, thinking of what she read so far in the Book of Joseph, of the abuse in the Seed family. It doesn’t shock her at all that Jacob has a protective streak, that he wouldn’t want his younger brother’s far out of sight. She does find herself wondering why Faith isn’t following alongside her siblings as well. Her fellow deputies didn’t seem to know much of her at all, Hudson not even knowing what she looks like. Hell, the youngest sister hasn’t even been mentioned yet in the Book of Joseph. Though given the hefty age difference, perhaps she wasn’t born yet during the memory Joseph chose to open it with? 

Dahlia takes a seat while they wait for the Seed brothers, graciously accepting the cup of coffee that Pratt offers her. Her leg taps as she drinks at it, listening to the clock tick away as she waits for the Seeds. Her fellow deputy sits next to her and she can tell the day has been wearing on him. She doesn’t know why, what it is that pushes the impulse forward, but she thumps her head onto his shoulder. A soft form of contact, comfort, whether it’s an offering to him or a selfish desire of her own, she isn’t sure. 

But Pratt responds by leaning his head towards her, over top of her own. His hair tickling at her skin and his scruff scratching at her skin. She can’t help but smile and press in a little closer, just appreciating his presence in this quiet moment after such a drawn-out day. 

“Shit!” 

Pratt’s sudden yell jolts Dahlia awake, her skull knocking against his. She blinks sleep from her eyes, when did she even drift off? How long was she sleeping against his shoulder? Her hands and the bottom of her jeans are wet; the cup of coffee and it’s contents now on the floor as well as her shoes. 

“Fuck,” she curses under her breath, she must have dropped it when she fell asleep, “sorry.” 

Dahlia goes and gathers up paper towels, cleaning up the mess. She didn’t even realize she was that tired. 

“Don’t sweat it, shit has been crazy around here lately, I nearly dozed off myself.” 

“You telling me this ain’t typical.” 

“God, no, county’s usually more boring than watching paint dry. Lately, feels like county’s gone nuts.” 

“Eh,  I prefer the crazy, keeps things interesting at least.”

“Deputies,” the on shift desk worker pops their head into the room, “the Seed brothers are here.” 

“We’ll be there in a second.” 

Dahlia finishes cleaning up the mess and sighs, that weight back on her shoulders. It’s way past their usual shift hours and the day as a whole has been a lot. But they may finally be getting to the root of what happened. They’re getting some justice for Jerome, Patrick is a damn near guaranteed arrest. They just need to get to the bottom of John and Joseph’s involvement. She took this job to help people and that’s what she’s doing, Jerome has a right to feel safe in this county and as much as she hopes the Seeds are good, if they’re hurting others, it needs to be shut down and now. 

Mess cleaned; Dahlia and Pratt go out to the waiting room to greet the Seeds. John and Joseph look relatively cleaned up. Though John always looks some version of prim and proper. She’s positive she’s never seen the youngest sibling in a shirt that wasn’t a collard button up and she’s certainly never seen his hair in any state other than slicked back. His shirt of choice today is purple, no vest or trench coat, just the buttons left undone to show the sin marked across his chest and the sleeves rolled up to show the tattoos across his forearms. 

Joseph is wearing a shirt which is an accomplishment for him, a stiff white button up done up to his throat and a black blazer over it, nearly overkill in the heat of August. Perhaps he only wears clothing in extremes, either half naked or completely covered. His greasy dark hair is pulled back as usual and despite the late hour, his yellow aviators are on. 

And then there’s Jacob, black tee and jeans with his typical camo shirt tied around his waist. Dog tags, key, and rabbit’s foot hanging from a chain around his neck as they always do. 

They’re superficial observations, what the brothers wear, but she can’t help but take in the stark contrasts of the brothers. Joseph trying to look more put together and less crazy, John in that same state but every day, and Jacob genuinely not seeming to give any sort of a fuck. 

“Deputies,” John is the one to greet them, grinning and Dahlia folds her hands behind her back, trying to still her body and straighten her back to present a confident front. 

“John,” Pratt returns the acknowledgement with a nod, “I-“

“It seems you have one of our flock members contained on the bas-“  John cuts off Pratt. 

“We actually would rather speak with you and Joseph before we discuss that case,” Dahlia cuts the youngest brother off in turn, not letting him dominate the conversation or set the tone for this. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, I assume, you’re both comfortable with answering some questions for us?” She cocks her head to the side, trying to stay nonthreatening, not that her five feet of being could ever be threatening. 

“Of course, that would be no problem at all,” Joseph is the one to speak next, giving her a smile, eyes soft despite the circumstances. 

“Actually,” Pratt cuts in, a twitch in his jaw, “I’ll be asking those questions alone.” 

“You’ll what?” Dahlia levels a glare at her partner, ready to throw him through a window, but unable to do so. He’s pushing it, he keeps pushing it. 

“I think it’ll be best if I conduct the interrogation alone.” 

“Oh, do you?” 

“You girls need a minute, or can we get this shitshow on the road,” Jacob says, the deep rasp of his voice cutting through the spat. And she doesn’t miss the clench in Pratt’s jaw at the emasculating choice of words. 

“Come on back; sorry for the trouble,” Dahlia says, a tight lipped smile as she leads the Seed brothers to the interrogation room. She’ll deal with Pratt and his overprotective bullshit later. It’s a quick walk down the hall and she politely opens the doors for them, she thinks she sees Jacob rolling his eyes. 

“Go ahead and take a seat, we’ll be just a moment,” Dahlia tells them, giving a small nod when Joseph thanks her. She lets the door shut behind the Seeds and turns her gaze back on Pratt. 

“Rook-”

“What the actual fuck, Pratt?” She keeps her voice low, but her tone is terse, how could he try to strong arm her out of the interrogation. 

“Look, you’ve spent a lot of time with them, regardless of if you’ve wanted too or not. They’re fixated on you and you’re just too close to them to be interrogating them.” 

“You’ve known them longer than me! You’ve known them for years! This is a rural county, it’d take me longer to meet all the cows here than it would the people!” 

She wants to wring his neck, he’s entirely too protective of her and for no real reason. More now than ever she realizes she made the right call not telling anyone about the mute “angel” Eden’s Gate member who swung on her or the vandalism of her trailer. Pratt already barely wants to let her handle ticketing people and now he doesn’t want her interrogating suspects. It’s ridiculous. She’s a grown adult woman, she needs to be allowed to do her fucking job. 

Dahlia is done listening to this nonsense, she decides, and makes a beeline back to the interrogation room. Pratt isn’t going to stop her from doing her damn job. She opens the door, her coworker trailing behind her, as she steps into the interrogation room.

The Seed brothers are sat at the table. Jacob’s legs open wide, sat relaxed in his chair, completely disinterested by most appearances but he still watches the deputies from the corner of his eye. She’s reminded of a predator lulling prey into a false sense of security before it strikes. 

Joseph sits between his elder and younger sibling. His elbows on the table, hands politely folded, not a hint of anxiety in him either. Seemingly calm, but his gaze is intense on the young deputy as she enters, never straying away from her.  He never looks over at Pratt, the other deputy’s warning that they’re fixated on her ring through her mind. 

John is sitting back in his chair and his gaze is just as intense, but there’s more manic energy behind it. In him in general. Perhaps he’d look calmer, more serene like his brothers, if not for the constant bouncing of his leg, the movement starting to  shake the rickety table. 

“Sorry about that,” Dahlia starts before Pratt can find a way to force her out of the room, “would either of you like any coffee or anything before we chat?” 

“No, thank you. We’ve done this song and dance before, deputy, you can’t sneak dna off of us,” John dismisses her off with a sneer. 

“Okay then, no coffee, understood,” she rescinds her off  as she sits down at the table across from them, Pratt sitting next to her. 

“Look, let's cut the bullshit,” Pratt speaks up, “a person was attacked, beaten badly. We got evidence, won’t say what, that connects one of your church members to the attack. And its being alleged that he did so on Joseph’s order with John supervising the whole thing, and...you’re just hear for window dressing I guess.”  He gives a dismissive look to Jacob at that last part, no doubt his attempt to give a little revenge jab for his comment earlier. 

“Why I’m here ain’t any of your concern, princess.” Jacob says, voice low and the threat within it not subtle. 

“Okay…” Dahlia cuts in with a clap of her hands when she sees the way Jacob and Pratt are glaring at each other, this is an interrogation not a pissing contest, the last thing they need is Pratt trying to fight Jacob and getting his ass kicked, “this is already going off the rails, good job everyone. Now, while his wording was...abrupt, uh that is the reality of the situation. There are some heavy accusations being levied at you two, so we were hoping to ask you a few questions.” 

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” John responds, rolling his eyes, “these are completely baseless accusations.”

“We do have evidence linking one of the men, a member of your church, to the assault. Our witness and survivor is credible. At this point we have no reason to believe they’d lie about what occurred.” 

“They persecute us the same as they did the prophets before us, the faithful handed over to courts and councils, sheep sent out amongst wolves,” Joseph speaks sudden, voice intense as he stares into Dahlia’s eyes, a chill rolls up her spine, a tension pulling in her shoulders that she can’t quite shake. 

“Seriously,” Pratt scoffs and for the first time Joseph’s eyes leave Dahlia, harsher and colder at the older officer, “you really think this is about your church, that someone would make this shit up just to get at you, think they beat the shit out of themselves too just to spite you?” 

“Of course not,” John speaks next and she can’t help but notice the jolt in his body language, “I’ve yet to speak to our flock member you’ve find evidence of. But even if he’s done what he’s accused of, surely, you can’t expect us to be held responsible for the actions of every member of our church. We have hundreds of followers, you cannot reasonably expect us to be accountable for any of them who may stray from our ways.” 

“The witness specified you were there, John. Not just accountable, but physically present for assault.” 

“And there’s no evidence of that, you said so yourself, and as I’ve told you before, there are many in this county who aren’t above taking any chance to sully mine and my family’s name. Who’s to say, they didn’t see their assault as an opportunity to bring down our entire church.” 

“May I ask where you were last night?” 

“Had dinner with my family, as I always do, and stayed in for the night. Rather boring, I’m afraid.” 

“Anyone who can confirm this story?” Pratt asks and Dahlia tries not to roll her eyes; his family would be the ones who can confirm it and ...they’re mostly here and biased. 

“My brothers who are sitting right here, my sister if you feel the need to ruin her night as well.” 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” 

“Then are we done here?” 

“This isn’t a formal arrest or detainment,” they don’t have anywhere near the evidence or that, “so,  you’re free to leave if you so please. Though, there’s still the issue of Patrick who requested counsel with you.” 

The brothers have made it clear they want to leave and that the deputies won’t be prying any more information from them. So, Dahlia escorts them out. 

“You two can go on home,” John tells his brothers, “I’ll call someone to get me once I’ve sorted this out.” 

“We couldn’t possibly leave you behind, we’ll wait,” Joseph squeezes John’s shoulder than looks to Dahlia, “assuming that would be okay.” 

“Of course, don’t expect you to ditch your brother.” 

“It is tempting sometimes,” Jacob mumbles under his breath, a smirk pulling at his lips when John glares at him. Rook has to press her hand to her mouth to avoid laughing at the brotherly teasing. 

“Jacob…” Joseph gently chides. 

“Regardless, you two are welcome to sit out in the waiting room, there's a vending machine if you need anything or if you’re not interested in that I’m sure Nancy can get you set up with coffee or food from our break room.” 

“Thank you, deputy.” 

“I’ll be out, shortly,” John says the final word pointedly as his brothers go to the waiting room, then turns to the deputies, “which room is my client in?” 

“Room 103, I’ll be right in, go on and get settled,” Pratt tells him and John leaves down to the room where Patrick is being held. Dahlia holds her tongue until the youngest Seed brother is out of hearing range. 

“Think we can get anything else out of them?” 

“Fuck no, he’s going to tell Patrick to keep his mouth shut, insist that there’s another explanation. Like getting blood from a turnip, we’re just going to have to deal with what we have. DNA should be enough to convict Patrick, as for the rest, we’ll have to see if Whitehorse feels we got enough to do a full investigation. But, we don’t have much.” 

“The evidence against Patrick might be enough to subpoena Joseph’s sermons, get warrants to search the church and houses?” 

“Maybe,fuck,” Pratt rubs a hand down his face, he looks exhausted and she’s sure she’s not much better, “what time is it?” 

“Nearly four in the morning.” 

“Fucks sake, okay, their foul mood makes a bit more sense.” 

“Yeah, I can take care of the talk with John and Patrick, like you said won’t be getting much from them, so you can head home or check on Jerome.” 

“No, no, absolutely not. I’ll take care of this, you go home and get some sleep.” 

“Pratt-” 

“Rook, you were the one passing out on top of me. Go home and sleep.” 

“I-” 

“Please, for once in your life, just listen to me.” 

“Okay, just this once,” she bows her head, feeling like a scolded child, “but we do need to have a serious conversation about you babying me, you know that right?” 

“I don’t baby you.” 

She blinks and widens her eyes, has he heard a single word he’s said to her all day. Refusing to let her stay at the station alone, not wanting her to call John, and not even wanting her to be involved in the interrogation. And that today alone, she can’t count the amount of times he’s told her not to be the one to issue tickets, to stay in the car during calls. She knows they’ve lost an officer in the line of duty. And she knows she’s a lot younger than Pratt or Hudson. But this is her job as much as it is theirs. 

“Okay,” Pratt scratches at the back of his neck at the incredulous look, then gently puts his hands on Dahlia’s shoulders, “serious conversations can wait until we’ve both slept, alright?” 

“Fine, I’ll go home and crash, get yourself some sleep when you finish up here, okay?” 

“Okay, will do.” 

He drops his hands from her shoulders and gives a small pat to her arm as she turns to leave. As much as she’d rather Pratt be the one going home to get some much needed sleep, she can’t say she won’t be thankful for a chance to crash. 

“And Rook,” Pratt calls out before she can get through to the waiting room, she turns to look at him, “stay away from the Seeds, please.” 

“Don’t push it.” She rolls her eyes, overprotective ass, she pushes through the doors to the waiting room. 

Dahlia gives a friendly nod of acknowledgement to Joseph and Jacob as she moves past them, looking towards Nancy. 

“I’m gonna go home and crash for the night, any news comes in, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”  She explains to dispatch, not fully trusting Pratt to let her know if it’s up to him, throwing on her leather jacket and already searching for her pack of cigarettes. She’ll catch a smoke break before she rides home, her nerves needing the nicotine fix. 

“Alright, dear. Drive safe.” 

Dahlia waves a quick bye to both Nancy and the Seed brothers before she leaves the building. The air is cold, temperatures drop quick at night out here,  a start contrast to the hot muggy days. A dark sky hangs above her except where stars breach the abyss. Goosebumps prickle up along her neck where the air hits, she put a cigarette between her lips and lights it, breathing nicotine deep into her lungs. She tilts her head back, blowing smoke from her mouth, white billowing around her. 

“Deputy,” Joseph’s voice calls out and chills run along her spine, “you know, smoking is really a terrible habit.” 

“We all got our vices,” she says, shrugging her shoulders, making sure to blow the smoke away from Joseph. 

“That is true, I know that better than most…” 

She nods when he trails off a bit, his church seems to focus a lot on sins and vices, overcoming them she assumes. Sins marked across the skin of so many of its members. Silence falls across the two, for once Joseph breaking eye contact, a rare moment for him. 

“Is there something you wanted…? Can’t imagine you’d rather wait out here in the cold.”

“Yes, actually, I think there’s a lot we need to discuss. Faith told me you have concerns about your friend, Cassandra.” 

“Cassie, yeah,” she corrects, not sure why it bugs her so much to hear them using Cassie’s full name. 

“Yes, John always was wishing to speak with you regarding the orchard and… I’d hate for this… incident to color your opinion of me and my family.”

“I understand and I’d love to talk all this out with you, but-” 

“It’s four in the morning.” 

“Yeah, sorry,” she frowns, feeling bad about it, “its been a rough day and I just am ready to crash, I’m sure you must be exhausted too.” 

“Of course, I understand, which is why I’d like to invite you to have dinner with me and my family.” 

“Uh, what?” 

Dahlia blinks and coughs on cigarette smoke, taken aback by the sudden invitation. He’s here for an investigation, she just interrogated him, and he’s concerned with inviting her to dinner to… preserve some sort of good image? While a formal investigation isn’t opened on him or John yet, needing warrants and authority to do anything more, but one is right around the corner. 

“We try to have dinner as a family, my brothers, sister, and I, as often as possible. A luxury we couldn’t indulge in for so much of our lives, I think it’d be a wonderful opportunity for us all to speak and for you to know my family separate from church or police interrogations. So, would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Uh…” 

This could be her only chance to talk to him about Cassie before a formal investigation is launched and it becomes a conflict. 

But it could already be a conflict, since they are hopefully not far away from launching that investigating. 

But, she could use it as a chance to probe around, see if she can unearth anymore evidence in the Jerome case. 

But, anything procured without a warrant wouldn’t be admittable, so the most she could do is see it and then know what to go back for once they secure a warrant. 

But, even just getting a chance to ask questions without the environment of an interrogation room, might get some truths out. As well a chance to ask about some of the other strange things going on in the county. From roadblocks to the issue of the weird “angel” that assaulted her. 

But, they could be dangerous, if they do have anything to do with Jerome’s injuries… 

But, she’s not weak and it’s not like she's looking to antagonize them. She can ask her questions and be polite. 

But, Pratt would kill her. He literally warned her to stay away from the Seed family five fucking seconds ago. 

“Sure, I’d love to,” she tells him, ultimately unable to say no to his earnest little smile. 

“That’s wonderful, our dinners are at John’s ranch house, I’m not sure I have anything to write the number down on…” 

“I can use the memo app on my phone, what is it?” 

“Oh.” He seems taken aback for a moment when she gets out her phone, but recovers to prattle off the address, Dahlia typing it in. 

“Did I get it right?” She asks, moving to stand closer to Joseph’s side, so he can see the phone screen.

“Uh, yes, that’s,” he reaches out to touch her phone and accidentally closes the memo app, pulling his hand away like it burned him, “oh.” 

Dahlia can’t help but laugh, watching the older man fumble to deal with tech. He’s older, sure, but he’s not pushing his sixties or anything. He ducks his head and she can see a very subtle flush of red flare up his cheekbones. Its the most human he’s ever seemed to her, just an older man who hates phones, embarrassed that he has no idea how to use one. 

“Don’t worry,  it saved,” she explains, pulling it back up. 

“Yes, that’s correct.” 

“Alright, see you and your family tomorrow.” 

She tucks her phone back in her pocket and waves bye again, getting on her motorcycle. Dahlia slides her helmet on and starts the journey back home, mind racing and heart heavy with the events of the day. 

Joseph sits in the passenger side of the truck, Jacob driving and John sitting in the back, as they leave the police station. It's late, nearly early enough for him to be waking up. John made a grave mistake, trying to punish Pastor Jerome for leading people astray, away from Eden. A noble intention, but he did it out of wrath and anger, letting someone else’s sin fuel his own. His impulses placed them back in the sight line of the police. They can recover from this easily enough, as frustrating as it is. The bigger issue is once again working to reign John in and working to change the junior deputy’s view of them. 

The Lamb plays a vital role in the collapse, she was chosen to be the one who brings about the end, how exactly she will do so remains to be seen. But, he’d rather she do it alongside them stepping into New Eden by their side after she helped cleanse the world, rather than doing so in spite of them with no understanding of the gift she was given. 

“What the hell were you thinking?”  Jacob scolds their younger brother, always protective of the project and them being found out by law enforcement, he’s more than a little irate about John’s mistake. 

“Jacob…” Joseph still chides him for cursing, a nasty habit his eldest brother struggles most to break. If Joseph’s being completely honest, he’s not certain Jacob is trying to break it all. 

“Pastor Jerome is a fraud, he is leading people astray and spreading lies about The Project, he had to be taught a lesson.” 

“Who cares? His people abandoned him for us, John. He can talk all he wants, no ones fuckin’ listening.” 

“Oh, so suddenly you’re above corporal punishment, are you going soft on me, Jacob? Do you allow your soldiers to say whatever they please, reward them for their insolence?” 

“Jerome’s not a soldier and unlike you, when I teach outsiders a lesson, I’m not dumb enough to let them walk away from it.” 

“Brothers, stop,” Joseph speaks over them, not yelling, but his tone stern enough to end their incessant arguing, he makes eye contact with his youngest brother through the rearview mirror “Jacob is right, John.” 

“But Joseph-” 

“You endangered The Project, our mission, our family; for the sake of satisfying your own wrath. You put all of us at risk and for what? So, you could indulge in your sins?” 

“He was spreading lies, telling people you were dangerous-” 

“And that made you angry, it made you wrathful. And so you lashed out to make yourself feel better, instead of speaking to me, instead of seeking out the word and confronting the sin inside of yourself, you sought to quell your anger through violence.” 

“I’m sorry, Joseph.” 

“I know. Righteous anger and swift justice has its place. There will be times to cut off the hands that wrong us, but this was not one of them.” 

“I understand… I already spoke with our flock members in the station, they’ll dispose of the evidence and secure Patrick’s freedom. Without it, the investigation will end and he won’t be punished for my mistakes.” 

“I knew you’d take care of it in the end,” he tells him, watching the relief flood John with the smallest amount of praise after being scolded, “I invited the junior deputy to dinner.” 

Jacob slams on the brakes on a thankfully deserted back road, causing Joseph to jerk against the seatbelt and John to slam his face against the seat in front of him. John yells out from the sudden impact and Joseph turns to look at his eldest brother in confusion. 

“God damn it, Jacob!” 

“John!” Joseph scolds when his baby brother takes the lords name in vain, he can see a bruise forming on John’s forehead already. 

“He tried to kill me!” 

“Am I the only one who understands that we’re criminals?!” 

“In the eyes of man, perhaps, but in the eye of -” 

“Eyes of man are the ones that matter, right now, Joseph! You’re inviting a fuckin’ cop into our lives, into John’s house. A cop who just interrogated us less than a fucking hour ago and you want to feed her for her trouble.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were scared, brother. Jacob Seed, scared of a little girl.” 

“Well, its a damn good thing you know better, or that shiner would be the least of your problems, brother,” Jacob nearly spits the word brother, glaring daggers at John. 

“Jacob,” Joseph gets his older brother’s attention, Jacob has always been the strongest willed, has always asserted his opinions even if he’d do anything for the family, “are you doubting me?” 

“No, of course not, I just don’t understand why you’re doing this?” 

“We have cops within our flock, Jacob.”

“Yes, converted cops who benefit us. This deputy can’t walk into a church without puking her guts up, she’s a problem waiting to happen.” 

“She has been making a problem out of herself, trying to keep me from purchasing the orchard, enabling the greed of this county.” 

“Look, I know it can be difficult to understand, you’ve not heard what I’ve heard. The Voice hasn’t spoken to you, as it has to me, my decisions are not without reason. Reasons that will be revealed in time, the junior deputy is important, bringing her into our flock is a priority. Understood?” 

“Of course, understood, Father,” John concedes, using Joseph’s formal title. Joseph looks to his eldest brother, who’s scarred jaw is still clenched tight. 

“Understood?” He repeats himself, he knows Jacob wouldn’t go against him, but his willful nature… something Joseph was envious of in childhood now leads to the occasional butting of heads. 

“Understood.” 

Jacob starts the car back up, driving Joseph and John back to their homes. John to his ranch house and Joseph up to his church, where he has a cot in the back of it. The sun is starting to come up when Jacob drops him off at the church compound, before driving back to Saint Francis. 

Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, Joseph is quick to return to his quarters, a headache starting to creep up along his temples. He changes for bed, then kneels before his bed, bowing his head for prayer and folding his hands together. Hands pressed together tightly, his rosary pressing into his skin. 

And he prays. 

He prays for John to find his way, to battle his sin and win the fight. 

He prays for Jacob to one day fully let go and accept the word. 

He prays for Faith not to stray from the path. 

He prays for his flock and family, he prays for their faith not to wane, he prays for them to be strong enough to weather the collapse, he prays for the persecution of his family to end, and he prays that he can save more souls; specifically the junior deputy. That he can find a way to reach her heart, help her see her gift, and learn the importance of her role before it’s too late. 

Then a sharp pain shoots from his temple across the rest of his head, like lightning shooting through his skull. The darkness of his closed eyes fades away into a new world, a vision of New Eden, a paradise he’s been shown and promised so many times he knows the sight of it by heart. The bright blooming pink flowers and modest homemade homes of a commune, a return to nature, to innocence. 

His family and flock there, older versions of themselves, dressed in more rustic handmade clothes. Less clear and less certain than last time. But he sees John, Jacob, and Faith with children clinging and playing around them. And he can’t explain the feeling, that they’re all his children but his siblings as well. 

The five year old boy with a head of dark curls and blue eyes that looks so much like Joseph as a child, the boy who called him papa. 

A girl around three with bright ginger hair, a face covered in freckles. She grins and blinks, sun in her eyes. She reminds him so much of Jacob, head held high with a crown of red. 

Maybe a year younger, another girl has straight dark brown hair and big wide blue eyes. Eyes that remind him so entirely of the young baby brother he cooed at as a child. 

The oldest of them, clings to an older Faith’s skirt. A young boy of ten maybe tweleve, so much older than the smaller children. Hair dark as pitch, olive skin, and green eyes setting him apart. He looks different from the others, perhaps his family tie not one forged by blood. 

His family, those he has now and those he will gain, the family he will be gifted. But, there’s something missing…. Pieces of the puzzle not yet in place. 

Weak clumsy fingers grab onto his bed as his vision subsides, the reality of the world he’s still in returning to him. His head pounds and throbs, agony radiating throughout it, as the collapse draws closer his visions are getting more and more frequent. He can only hope as he falls into bed that he’s keeping himself and his family on the right path to find paradise.

[rowaning]

The Complete Fiction of HP Lovecraft rated by me, someone who read them all* but has a terrible memory

The Beast in The Cave: uh a guy goes on a cave tour and finds a creature that was like a human that got lost and adapted to its surroundings. 0/10 just because im pretty sure there was another one with this exact premise and neither of them were memorable at all.

The Alchemist: dude achieves immortality and lives in the narrators basement and has pledged to murder his entire lineage or something. 4/10 the alchemy stuff was actually kind of interesting

The Tomb: im pretty sure this is the one where a guy starts hanging out in a tomb and like travels back in time/becomes one of his ancestors? 5/10 if its the one im thinking of i did enjoy reading it

Dagon: guy lands on a mysterious island with signs of a long dead civilization. 1/10 i do not remember what happened in it

A Reminiscence of Dr. Samuel Johnson: 0/10 i have no memory of this

Polaris: also 0/10 i forgot all about it

Beyond the Wall of Sleep: could be any of the dream focused ones. if its the one about the dude sailing into the void or whatever than 4/10 not too bad

Memory: ironically, i dont remember it. 0/10

Old Bugs: 1/10 for the title god i wish i remembered this one

The Transition of Juan Romero: i got nothing. 0/10

The White Ship: this might also be the one about the dude sailing into the void? i liked that one he lived in a lighthouse and boarded a dream ship and just fucking left it was fun. 4/10

The Street: uh i think really steep street that didnt actually exist. 3/10

The Doom that Came to Sarnath: i wanna say another one of the dream centered ones where a town discovers some old relics and blatantly disrespects them and gets exactly whats coming to it. 5/10 they deserved what they got

The Statement of Randolph Carter: ok this dude shows up several times. i think this one is about how he returns to his childhood home then travels back in time and creates a time loop paradox thing. 1/10 meh

The Terrible Old Man: uh some thieves harrass a weird old guy and get got. 5/10

The Cats of Ulthar: someone is mean to a cat in a dream city, all of the rest of the cats get revenge and are revered for the rest of time. 2/10 (-3 because lovecraft has a specific name he gives to apparently every fictional and real cat he encounters and wow i wish he hadn't)

The Tree: i feel like this is something to do with a person becoming a tree but i cant actually remember. 0/10

Celephais: yeah no i got nothing 0/10

The Picture in the House: also nothing 0/10

The Temple: nope 0/10

Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and his Family: is this the one where the dude's great grandfather married an ape? i dont think so but im not sure. 0/10, -5/10 if it is that one cause that one was especially shitty

From Beyond: nope 0/10

Nyarlathotep: charismatic dude shows up and is like get in bitches we're going to the void. i love nyarlathotep cause hes the one who directly interacts with humanity and like wears a human suit or whatever so hes just some dude whos like hey im gonna feed you to azathoth 5/0

The Quest of Iranon: got nothing 0/10

The Music of Erich Zann: narrator makes friends with an old musician whos being hunted by supernatural forces. 2/10 because i remember it but it was just ok

Ex Oblivione: 1/10 for the title but i have no clue what it was about

Sweet Ermengarde: lovecraft's sole attempt at comedy. not to my taste like at all 0/10

The Nameless city: nope 0/10

The Outsider: also nope 0/10

The Moon-Bog: sounds cool, dont remember it. 0/10

The Other Gods: dude tries to find the gods of humanity where they live on a big mountain, actually finds them, is immediately smited by the Other Gods who protect the gods of humanity. 3/10 he deserved it

Azathoth: dont recall, 0/10

Herbert West- Reanimator: Arkham man Herbert West and his assistant ressurect the dead with little thought to the consequences, then get murdered by a band of said resurrected dead. 5/10

Hypnos: nope 0/10

What the Moon Brings: also nope 0/10

The Hound: still nope 0/10

The Lurking Fear: again, nope 0/10

The Rats in the Walls: dude returns to his ancestral home, hears rats, excavates the basement and finds out that his ancestors ate human flesh, eats his friend. 1/10 it was an interesting read but can lovecraft please stop calling cats that.

The Unnameable: no clue 0/10

The Festival: nope 0/10

*Under the Pyramids: ok im pretty sure this is the one with houdini which is the only one i could not read. i went into this mentally prepared for lovecraft's bigotry but i was not mentally prepared for him dropping harry houdini, avid skeptic who absolutely would have beat the shit out of him for this, into the middle of his super racist paranormal horror. -1000/10

The Shunned House: nope 0/10

The Horror at Red Hook: also nope 0/10

He: cool title, no memory of the story. 0/10

In the Vault: wow im bad at this. 0/10

Cool Air: still no 0/10

The Call of Cthulhu: kind of all over the place, there was a thing about artists and then a thing about a cop investigating a cult. 3/10 meh but ill give it a bonus for being a staple of horror fiction.

Pickman's Model: uh artist sees some wild shit and draws it and then it eats him. 2/10 i forget the details

The Strange High House in the Mist: if this is the one im thinking of, dude does a dangerous climb to find a mysterious house and meet the inhabitant who is kind of interdimensional and also being hunted by interdimensional things. also maybe the house eats people? 2/10

The Silver Key: another Randolph Carter one, and i think this is actually the one about him travelling back in time so idk what the other one was. 3/10

The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath: randolph carter goes on a quest in the dream world to find the gods of humanity and ask why they wont let him check out this cool city he can see from his window. lots of action and very wordy and went a lot of different places. 4/10 good read but extremely xenophobic

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward: guy investigates his ancestor who looks disturbingly like him, ancestor comes back to life and kills him and takes his place and a bunch of other stuff happens. mostly a dramatized genealogical study. 3/10 not bad, very suspenseful

The Colour Out Of Space: meteor lands on a farm, scientists get weirded out by it, everything in the area gets weird then dead, alien thing gets enough power from draining nearby life-forms to escape earth. fun twist ending. 4/10 bonus for being one of the better ones, detraction for writing out a 'rural accent'

The Descendant: nope, 0/10

The Very Old Folk: nope again, 0/10

History of the Necronomicon: very dry. fake history of lovecraft's fake book thats super important to a lot of the stories. 0/10

The Dunwich Horror: isolated witchy family has a kid who no one likes that grows up real fast. graphic descriptions of renovation. a horror gets unleashed on the area and the local folklore scholars have to deal with it. 1/10 nothing good enough to counter the xenophobia

Ibid: i remember this one. no idea what it's deal was. pseudo-bibliography? it was weird. 0/10

The Whisperer in Darkness: guy has a correspondance with another guy about local folk legends based on evil crab things. other guy gets straight up replaced by an evil crab thing and first guy doesnt even notice. imagine if you followed up on a scam email and didnt realize anything was up until you saw that the face of the dude you were talking to in person was a mask. 4/10 for the comedy this guy would not last in the internet age at all

At The Mountains of Madness: guy whines about penguins and how awful it would be if there were civilizations that predated humanity. also commits grave desecration. i get hit by the realization that if lovecraft was less of a racist coward he wouldve made a great speculative sci fi author. 3/10 i would love to watch that old asshole get absolutely torn to shreds by the monster fucker community

The Shadow over Innsmouth: Fish People! Leave Them Alone! Or Else! 5/10 the protagonist gets to live the dream by escaping human society and becoming an immortal fish person

The Dreams in the Witch House: dude rents an objectively haunted room, doesnt listen to people trying to help him, gets murdered by a weird rat. later they find a shit ton of bones in the attic. 2/10 meh

Through The Gates of the Silver Key: Randolph Carter transcends time and space, then de-transcends time and space and immediately gets stuck on another planet in the distant past, makes a long and difficult journey back to earth to find that his estate is being divided amongst his heirs. the comedy potential of a man stuck in an alien body dealing with a legal system that has declared him dead is not examined. 2/10

The Thing on the Doorstep: narrator's good friend marries a fish person witch who steals his body. thats basically it. 3/10. at this point im like wow these narrators really refuse to believe the heavily foreshadowed supernatural explanations that turn out to be correct huh.

The Evil Clergyman: dude is in a room. some ghosts (?) show up. dude has a UV light for some reason. Gets his face stolen i guess and just has to live with it. 5/10 for being absolutely buck wild and refusing to explain anything

The Book: nope 0/10

The Shadow Out Of Time: dude gets his body stolen by ancient scholar species. agonizes about it for a while. finds archaeological evidence of said species. finds a book he wrote while living with said species. almost gets eaten by something. 3/10 more cool speculative sci fi but lame protagonist

The Haunter of the Dark: you'd think id remember it bc this was the last one and i read it last night. oh wait, nvm i do remember it. dude finds an old box in a run down culty church and unleashes a horror that then comes and fucks him up. 1/10 meh.

[wallywrites]

Prompt #7 “Why are you up so late?” And prompt #25 “You don’t get to say that to me!” as randomly suggested by one of my best friends (thanks Jaz!!)

If you want to request a prompt from the list feel free!

(If you couldn’t tell by the prompts, this is gonna be a bit angsty, also mentions of emotional abuse so just a warning in case that might affect you)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149621

✨Harringrove au✨

Steve didn’t expect to find anyone out by the quarry that night. He was always alone whenever he would drive out to the water, anytime he couldn’t sleep, which was most nights at this point. Sit on the front of his BMW with a six pack of stale beers to his left and a pack of Marlboro’s to his right, a cigarette between his lips as he lets the smoke heat his body.

He did this often. Found his way out by the water on a bad night, a night he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares were too loud and every shadow or slight noise made him jump three feet out of his skin. It had become a habit of his, goosebumps constantly rising up his spine at the change of the wind, even the smallest of things causing fear to run through him on instinct, always prepared for the worst to happen.

That’s what most of his nightmares were about. The monsters took up most of his thoughts, but some nights the monsters took the form of other people, like the party, their dead bodies surrounding him because he couldn’t save them, or his parents, just echoes of their empty faces and their harsh words. Sometimes they were even of Nancy, of that night he replays over and over again, the word ‘bullshit’ echoing through his head, bouncing around the walls of his skull.

And then there was Billy. Billy. He often had nightmares about Billy. Not in how you’d expect him to have, though. The nightmares were never about being scared of him, about the harsh words and the harsher fists that Billy had often thrown towards Steve before. No, instead the nightmares were about Billy not being there.

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Billy were to ever get caught up in the horrors of the town of Hawkins. He had forgiven him for that night at the Byers house, never held it against him as much as he tried to. And trust that he tried. Tried so hard to be angry with him. But every time he looked towards him, his blue eyes, thick lashes or that stupid smirk on his face, he couldn’t be mad. Not really.

And things were better between them, they really were. Things were good. Billy hadn’t really apologised yet, but he didn’t need to. Steve knew he was sorry, knew he didn’t know how to say it, so he showed it as best he could. And Steve understood. He was good at understanding. Understanding that Billy’s effort to befriend Steve, and his effort to not be as much of an asshole to his sister or any of the kids, and his effort to get into less fights were all really an attempt at showing that he was sorry.

But despite this, it still surprised Steve when he heard the roar of the Camaro, the headlights flashing out onto the water as the car came to a stop next to his own. He didn’t bother to look towards him as the engines turned off, the forest around them darkening, instead he took another drag of his cigarette, listening as Billy opened the car door, continued to listen as the same door closed, the sound of his footsteps taking over, breaking through the quiet of the night.

Billy didn’t speak as he pushed himself up onto the trunk of the BMW, stealing a cigarette from Steve’s pack, lighting it with his own lighter he pulled from the pocket of his jacket, the same one he always wears. They sat in silence for a few minutes like that, none of them bothering to speak, smoke filling the air around them. 

Steve had finished his beer by now, tossing the empty can towards the trees before grabbing another, passing it towards Billy, who took it graciously. They continued to sit in silence, and it wasn’t until they both were on their next beers before Billy decided to say something. 

“Why are you up so late?” 

Steve wanted to laugh, roll his eyes and ask the exact same question, but he really didn’t have the energy to. He knew Billy wasn’t out there to look for him. People knew he didn’t sleep as much as he should, sure, but no one knew that he often left his house in the middle of the night, let alone where he went, meaning that Billy was also up late, on his own terms, deciding for himself that somewhere like the quarry was a better place for him than back home in a warm bed. But Steve really didn’t want to get into that, into wondering what made Billy Hargrove leave the comfort of his house in the middle of the night. Part of him knew he didn’t want to know because he knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

So instead he answered like he always did when someone would catch him awake at unreasonable times, whenever someone began to show any sign of concern.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Billy huffed out in response, taking another sip of his beer as he watched Steve. He didn’t bother looking back, already having a feeling that his answer wasn’t going to be enough for Billy. He took another sip of his own beer, continuing to stare out towards the trees. Billy huffed out again, gesturing out towards the trees as he spoke.

“So what are you doing all the way out here?” he asked, dropping his arms by his side, looking back towards Steve, who watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t that he wasn’t paying attention, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Billy, but he was exhausted, and Billy wouldn’t understand, and then he’d have to deal with more mocking than he already got, and he didn’t want to give Billy, or anyone else another reason to make fun of him, call him a pussy, because you’re a grown fucking man you shouldn’t have fucking nightmares.

So he sighed out again, thinking, something plain, something simple, something that could mean anything, not necessarily good or bad. Something that wont tell Billy the truth, as much as he felt himself wanting to, wanting to open up to someone.

“Just thinking. It’s quiet out here, makes it easier.” It wasn’t a lie, it was quiet out here, but it was quiet at home too. But the quiet of Steve’s too big and too empty house made his skin crawl. He hated the silence he got whenever he was home alone, which was most days at this point. At least out here, amongst the trees and the bugs and the monsters, there was something. Some type of noise to distract him from the growing quiet that was his life back home. Something to focus on to distract him from the growing noise in his head, which only grew louder the more quiet it was.

He really wanted Billy to drop it, but he knew Hargrove, knew that dropping it wasn’t an option. He didn’t even have time to think about why Billy actually cared to ask before he answered again, asking another question Steve didn’t want to answer. 

“What about?”

Steve didn’t mean to snap, didn’t want to be angry with Billy, wasn’t even angry at Billy, but his head hurt, and he was exhausted, and his body ached and the one time someone actually cared to ask Steve what was going on it was Billy fucking Hargrove with his stupid blue eyes and stupid concerned face and god, Steve, fucking snap out of it.

“Why do you care, Billy? And why are you even here?”

Steve was frustrated, but more because he was just plain confused. Why now did Billy care? Steve didn’t think he cared that much about him, didn’t think anyone did, didn’t think he was worth it. But here he was, sitting on the trunk of his car with someone who looked like they gave a shit, looked like they actually cared. And it scared him, though he wouldn’t want to admit it, that the idea of someone actually caring about him scared him more than anything else.

And Billy didn’t even get mad, which angered Steve more for some reason he would have to unpack later. Instead Billy just shrugged, taking another sip of his beer before answering calmly, as if that’s what they did. As if it was normal for them to have an actual conversation alone in the woods in the middle of the night.

“Needed to get out of the house, didn’t really have anywhere else to go.. and I care, because I’m doing this thing, where I try to not be an asshole, and you look like shit” Billy said back, and it took Steve a moment to register what he actually said, still in a daze by how calm he was, how he wasn’t angry like Steve was.

Steve finally glanced towards Billy, furrowed eyebrows at what he said, and by the look on Billy’s face, he knew exactly what was going through Steve’s mind. He raised his hands as if he was surrendering, chuckling slightly as he spoke.

“Hey I said I was trying, doesn’t mean I’m very good at it.”

Steve just sighed out, looking away again. He knew Billy didn’t mean anything by it, and it really wouldn’t surprise Steve if he did look like shit, but he didn’t even bother to think about it as he thought about what Billy said. Needed to get out of the house. Steve knew all about that, but what would drive Billy to need to get away? Before Steve could think about the implications of that sentence, what Billy might have unknowingly shared, Billy continued.

“Just, you look like somethings bothering you.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, thinking this over. It felt weird, feeling himself want to open up to Billy. He didn’t even know what Billy and him were. Friends? Maybe.They definitely weren’t the closest people, and they still tend to bump heads a bit, but they had come a long way from being rivals, or enemies, or whatever they were. But then Steve thought about that strange infatuation he found himself having towards the other, knowing that if he opened up, he probably wouldn’t stop, and more feelings would come out, feelings that he still wasn’t even 100% sure of himself. And he didn’t want to risk that.

“It’s nothing, okay? It’s not important.”

Billy paused, thinking, and then the words that left his mouth caused Steve’s blood to boil, the fastest he thinks he has ever gotten angry.

“You should open up to someone about it”

He didn’t know why he was getting so riled up by the thought of Billy telling him to open up, but then he remembered it was Billy, and he was mad and frustrated and exhausted and really wasn’t having a good day. So he scoffed out, finally turning to face Billy.

“What the fuck? No, fuck off Hargrove, you don’t get to say that to me!” Billy seemed stunned by the response, blinked a few times as if trying to register what was actually happening, but before he could say anything, Steve continued, rolling his eyes as he looked away from him.

“Open up, yeah fucking right, when was the last time you ever opened up to someone? I don’t know a fucking thing about you, other than you have a good right hook and you love your car more than you’ve probably loved anything else in your life!”

Steve could see him tense up out of the corner of his eyes, saw his jaw clench, his fists tightening around his beer. It was obvious that Billy was angry, and Steve knew what he said would’ve pissed Billy off, and maybe he was looking for a fight, wanted to release the built up anger and frustration and sadness in some way. But Billy didn’t budge, stayed silent instead, just watching, waiting for Steve to look, or speak, or do something. 

Steve didn’t want to look, he knew what would probably happen if he did. Knew that if he found Billy’s fucking beautiful eyes, he would instantly feel guilty, knowing he didn’t really want to be mean to Billy, that Billy hadn’t done anything wrong, that he was just angry and upset and weak. 

And then the guilt started, before he even had a chance to look at him, and when he finally looked up he felt even worse. Billy still didn’t speak as he looked towards Steve, who tried to figure out what the other was thinking, feeling. He looked, tired, something Steve didn’t notice before, and then he felt worse. Billy didn’t want to fight, he wanted to help. And Steve wasn’t letting him, because he was scared, of opening up to someone, to Billy.

A groan escaped Steve as he finally pulled his attention from Billy, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, releasing a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding. He paused for another moment, and when Billy remained quiet, he looked back out towards the trees.

“Nightmares, Bill. I get.. I get bad nightmares, and they keep me up all night, and I hate being in that house alone, so..”

And he knew. He knew that it wouldn’t stop there, that it was too late to turn back now. But, a part of him felt relief. But that was buried way down when Billy spoke again, when Steve realised he would have to explain. And that relief was suddenly filled with dread, and then he was scared again.

“.. what about?” Billy asked, and if Steve was really paying attention and not concentrating on how fast his heart was beating, he would have noticed the soft tone to Billy’s voice, or the way he moved slightly closer to Steve, or that he still hasn’t looked away.

“Nothing.. everything, I don’t know.” He knew he couldn’t tell Billy about the monsters, what most of his nightmares were about, what not only plagued his dreams but plagued his thoughts, his life. And he definitely couldn’t tell him about his nightmares involving Billy. Just the idea that he has dreams of Billy would probably get him multiple broken bones and bruises. 

“What about tonight then?”

And then he sighed again, glancing towards Billy, concern still written on his face, and when he moved closer, Steve closed his eyes, finally answering what was bothering him tonight, what forced him out of his house and into the darkness of Hawkins.

“My parents.” It was a simple enough answer, one that left Billy questioning what he meant, panicking slightly at what it could mean. Steve looked away again, didn’t notice how Billy instinctively looked him over, looking for any sign of bruising or past injuries, because Billy knew. He knew about having nightmares about your parents, about the things they do that keep you up at night. 

“You have nightmares about your parents?” Billy asked, this time Steve noticing the slight panic, but he brushed it off, because why would he panic? They’re just nightmares, right? I mean, yeah, Steve didn’t have the best relationship with them, and sure, whenever they would actually come home, Steve found himself feeling like even more shit than he already does, but Billy didn’t know that.

And before he knew what was happening, he started to feel defensive, to feel those fears coming back, because it’s stupid, isn't it? Having nightmares about your parents? And Billy was probably ready to laugh, ready to tease him about something so stupid. So he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring towards him, not wanting to be weak, to be vulnerable. 

“What? You’re gonna make fun of me for it?”

Steve had never seen Billy change expressions so quickly, his concern turned to actual panic, something Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen before. Couldn’t think of a time he saw Billy panic in general, didn’t expect Billy to care that much either. But he did, and Steve had no idea why, but he would be lying if he said that it didn’t make him feel a little better.

“No, I.. No” Billy stumbled over his words, sighing out as he paused. He wasn’t good at this, at the whole talking thing. At the whole friend thing, either. But he was trying, and he really didn’t want Steve to think he was just riling him up, looking for a reason to pick on him. Because he wasn’t. He knew about nightmares, about nightmares about your parents, and then he was worried again, and then he was determined.

“Why do you have nightmares about them?”

“.. it’s stupid, really-”

“Steve, why do you have nightmares about your parents?” he asked again, more stern than before, angry, almost, and more concerned than Steve had initially realised. More concerned than Steve had ever seen him. He finally looked to Billy, pausing as he realised Billy was actually worried still, possibly more than before, and Steve wondered what was going through Billy’s head, what he was assuming Steve had meant. And so he spoke, slowly, the words circling around in his head again, the nightmare coming back to him, his life coming back.

“They just.. say things, sometimes”

“What things Steve?”

He didn’t know why he felt the urge to tell Billy everything his parents ever had said to him. He felt like he would tell Billy all of his secrets if he asked, and he hated that. But then he remembered how worried Billy looked, how it actually seemed like he cared, how close they were, and, well, he couldn’t really stop.

“That I’m, useless, worthless, I’m not good at anything, I don’t deserve anything, that I’m an idiot, a fucking retard who can’t even fucking read without spacing out, that I’m a fucking burden who they wish they never had, that I’d never be loved.. just, fucking everything that could be wrong with someone, anything that would make me feel like complete and utter shit because to them that’s all I fucking am.”

He didn’t realise he had started crying until the lump in his throat grew bigger, causing him to almost choke on the tears, struggling to hold back a sob. He had never said out loud what his parents do, what they say, and for some reason it hurt a hell of a lot more than Steve thought it would. And he felt stupid. He felt so fucking stupid, admitting everything to Billy fucking Hargrove, who sat staring at him, frozen, watching as he broke apart on the trunk of his BMW in the middle of god fucking nowhere.

“Steve-”

Steve shook his head, wiping harshly at his cheeks. He refused to look at Billy any longer, training his eyes on the trees around him. This was stupid, Billy didn’t care, why would he? No one cared, so why would this be any different?

“Look, just, forget it, okay? It’s stupid, this is stupid-” he pushed off away from his car, wanting to get away, not wanting to be here, feel what he was feeling, but Billy didn’t let him get that far, pushing himself from the BMW, reaching out towards the other.

His fingers wrapped around Steve’s wrist, and he flinched, closing his eyes, preparing to be hit for being stupid, for being weak, preparing to be told to grow the fuck up and get over it, but it never came. Instead, he felt himself being pulled towards Billy, before two arms wrapped around his back, and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was Billy’s blond curls.

“What are you doing?”

Billy just huffed out, but it didn’t sound like he was annoyed, or angry, or upset. He was just, tired. And Steve didn’t think he had ever related to Billy as much as he did now. Tired. And then he answered, pulling Steve even closer.

“Hugging you”

“Why?”

“Just, relax, Steve. It’s okay.” And then Steve felt himself finally let go, no longer trying to maintain his tears, keep in his sobs. Because he was tired. He was really fucking tired, of keeping in all the shit that happens, pretending that everything was fine when they weren't, and someone finally actually fucking cared. So he let himself sob into Billy’s shoulder, let his once enemy hug him and hold him in the middle of fucking nowhere, hold him until the tears ran out.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad. Letting people in, letting people help, letting people care. Maybe.

[oingo233]

By The Lake* Part Five

Summary:  A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past.  Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon.  You two were inseparable until you had to leave.  But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his.  You will need to weave your way through the town’s problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon.  Will you two find your way back to each other again?  Or will he push you further away?  And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?

Part one * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance, described wounds and injuries

Authors note:  I don’t own the character Daryl Dixon, he belongs to the creators of The Walking Dead.  This fic talks about abuse, and the terrible reality involved to spread awareness about the matter, not to romanticize it.                                    ps. in this chapter we get hints at what really happened the last summer Daryl and (Y/N) spent together, which might be confusing at first but next chapter we’ll get more inisght to that.  There is also super cute and sad angst between the two as their pasts are finally revealed more to each other.  This chapter is just cute to me, I hope y’all enjoy! 

Word Count: 3.1k

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It has been a week and 3 days since I have last seen Daryl.  He was never in Marks garage, not wandering through town, not by the lake, not anywhere in sight.  All though sometimes at night, when I’m drifting off you sleep, if I’m lucky, I’ll hear Daryl's motorcycle as he drives through the night.  I always wonder where he’s off to, towards home or away?  So much has changed, it was hard to know much about him nowadays.  

It was one of those lucky nights as his engine roared to life, but something felt wrong.  I checked the time on my phone. 2:28 am.  What the hell?  Where is he going to at this hour?  Going to raise hell with his brother?  Or get him out of it?  I shook my head, and cuddled deeper into the pillow although it did nothing to calm my mind.  But it wasn’t my place to worry about him, we aren’t friends.  Daryls bitter words from our fight often circle around my head at night.  But so does the day he saved me.  He still cares for me, he as to, right?  I wouldn’t be ready to fight 3 tough looking guys for no one?  But he did, for me.  Maybe not everything has changed.

The hum of the motorcycle sounds the closest it has ever been.  I get lost in my own thoughts and soon notice the quite of the night.  No more engine accompanying the crickets and owls in the dead of night.  Well, where ever he is...I hope he is safe, I think.  My thoughts start to fade out, as my tiredness sinks in and sleep takes over.

Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!

I wake with a start, my heart leaps to my throat and I can feel my fast heart beat.  Someone was at my door, knocking quickly and loudly.  

Knock! Knock!  “Damn it, wake up!”  Someone whispers from the other side of the door.  They didn’t sound like Cherry, Mark or the kids.  Could it be Carter?  The thought alone replaces my beating heart in my throat with bile.  I seal my lips shut and fight back the need to gag, a nervous tick if you will.  

Knock knock!  I quickly throw the covers off of me, and stand on shaking knees.  Apprehensively, I grab the bat by my bed and creep towards the door.  One more knock sounds and then I hear it.  “(Y/N), please...”The voice was shaky, and soft.  I know that voice!  I unlock the door and reveal the person behind it.  

“Daryl?”  Even if I had a hunch on who it was, seeing him before me here still was surprising.  Even more surprising was the way he stood.  His one arm draped over his waist, hunched over.  The other had blood trailing down his forearm from his knuckles, as it was raised in the air ready to knock again.  In the dead of night it was hard to see the full extent of his injuries.  

I drop my bat and turn on the porch lights.  “Omg Daryl!  What happened?.”  I panic.  His face had more bruises than flesh, and blood leaked from his lip and nose, covering the front of his shirt.  He squinted at the light and did something I last expected him to do.  He collapsed in my arms.  The weight of him nearly had us both on the floor, but I steadied myself and wrapped my arms around him.  My hands slid up and down his back, they were met with bloody welts.  I raised my hands so they weren’t touching him at all, and tucked my forearms under his sweaty armpits to lead him inside.  I walk the short distance from the front door, to my bed and lay him down on it so his back was facing the ceiling.  

He pushed his arms up under him and tried to get up.  I lightly grab his bicep and push him back down.  “Don’t move.”  I say softly, taking in his hurt expression.

“I’m not gettin’ your sheets dirty...” He mumbles.  

“I don’t give a damn about my fucking sheets.  Let me help you, that’s why you came here right?”  I don’t mean to sound so harsh, but seeing him like this scared me and he was only putting himself in more pain trying to be polite right now.

“Ya said if I needed anythin’...” He trialed off, clearly embarrassed.  He never was the one to ask for help, he saw it as weakness, almost like defeat.

“I know, I’m glad you came here.”  I can’t stop myself.  I reach out and comb back the hair from his eyes, running my fingers through his head of hair.  He closes his eyes and relaxes into the pillow, flinching when I go to do it again, before visibly relaxing even more.  Blood from his lip dribbles down onto my pillow and I frown.  How could someone do this to him?  

My heart breaks in two, and I hold back my tears.  He’d see it as pity and push me away.  I’ve never ever seen Daryl this beaten up, he won’t even let me check out a bruise.  It must have been real bad for him to come here directly after being hurt.  I scratch the base of his neck softly, thinking to myself how in the hell was I supposed to help him.  His lips parted and a sigh escaped them, I don’t know how long we were sitting like that but in that time Daryl has fallen asleep.  I smile to myself and pull my hand back.  Taking him in all the way.

I always wanted to see him in my bed with me, whether we were cuddling, laughing, or other fun things ;).  But never would I have ever wanted to see him in this condition.  His shirt was torn and through the rips I can see raised, irritated welts of skin, and some deeper marks turned into gashes.  Blood running down his tan skin.  His face was beaten badly, and his knuckles were cracked open, leaving blood down his arms.

I needed to get him cleaned and bandaged up, but all the supplies were in the house.  I had nothing.  This could prove difficult.  But it needed to me done.  I had to sneak into the home of those who are helping me, and steal their medical supplies.  No, borrow, I think to myself, I’m borrowing things to help my friend which they would surely approve of.  And I’ll replace everything I took in the morning.  

With that plan in mind I stood up and turned to walk out the door but a hand wraps gently wraps around my hand, squeezing it.  

“You leavin’?”  My heart leaped at his broken voice.  I crouch down and make eye contact with him, half his face sunken into the pillow, the other half facing me.  When I speak my voice is comforting, despite the fear and seriousness I feel when I look at his injuries.

“No Daryl,” I run my thumb across his knuckles which luckily this hand was clear of cuts.  “I have to get a few things for us.  But it won’t take too long, and I’m coming right back.”  He drops my hand and sits up slowly, holding his side again, face warped with pain before settling into a stony expression.

“If you’re gonna tell em’, I’m leavin’ and you have nothing to worry bout.” He goes to stand up but I block him.  

“I won’t tell them Daryl.  Nobody is going to know but us.  I just want to help you that’s all.  It’ll be between us if that is what you want.”  He nods once, and continues to stand there, looking awkward.  I hold in a chuckle, and help him sit down again.  

He watches me leave, as I walk out the door and to Cherry’s house, thinking of what I’m going to do.  Do I even know how to clean all of Daryl’s wounds?  I grimace at the thought of hurting him more, in a hopeless attempt to help him. But then a grim thought crossed my mind, of course I know how to treat wounds, I’ve had most of them myself.  I arrive at their front door and try it.  It was locked.  I curse under my breath and check the back door.  Praying to whatever god is up there, I try the handle.  For a second I think it might just work, its turning, but then it stops abruptly and I almost scream into the night. Locked. What now?

I can’t go to town, I don’t have a car.  I don’t have first aide in the cabin, and I’d rather die than disturb or “borrow” from the Hendersons.  No, this was the only way.  But how?  In my train of frantic thought I bring my thumb up and bite it.  Quickly I retract my thumb and spit on the ground.  Daryl’s blood was all over my hands from where I carried him.  Suddenly, the answer to all my problems presented itself.

I run around to the front of the house and knock frantically, putting a pained expression on.  Mark opens the door, his eyes bags prominent in the moonlight and his half sleep state.  He looked like a zombie.  I felt terrible for waking him, but the thought of Daryl back at the cabin keeps my plan in action.

“Oh Mark!  Thank god.  I hurt myself...” Oh shit, I haven’t thought about this all the way.  “uh, when unpacking and the pocket knife slipped.  I uh, cut my palm.”  He bought my rubbish lie, and glanced down at my hands.  Even in the darkness, the blood on my hands were hard to miss.  His eyes widen and he ushers me inside.

“Jesus.  You’re on the verge of bleeding out!”  His voice seemed much higher than before, panicked.  I shrug, clearly I wasn’t, but Mark seemed convinced I was in grave danger.  “We need to call someone.  Cherry!”  He yells into the night.  Two lights down the hallway turn on and I hold back a long string of curses, this wouldn’t work.  I wasn’t even cut and now everyone was going to come and take a look.  Mark glances uneasily at my hands and closes his eyes shut.  He chuckles.  “I’m not very good with things like this.  Blood is...well I don’t really like it.  Cherry is better at this stuff anyway.  Cherry!”  He calls again.  Cherry rushes down the hall, pulling her arm through her robe.  Her hair sticking up, and matted, she looked just as tired as Mark.  Behind her, I can see Monty stick his head out his door.  He gives me a shy wave, making me smile.  I go to wave but can’t for Cherry grabbed my hand.

I pull it back to my chest and fake pain. I wince and give her a weak smile.  “It hurts, it would be best if I cleaned it myself.  I just don’t have any first aide at the cabin.”  She puts a hand to her mouth and closes her eyes for a few seconds.

“(Y/N), I am so sorry.”  She hits Marks arm, who looks pale.  “How could we have forgotten to give her first aide, she’s by the lake for christs sake.”  She turns away and rushes in and out of the bathroom.  She hands me a red kit, and frowns at me.  “I’m sorry, we literally bought you one and totally forgot to give it to you.  Are you sure you can do it yourself?”  This plan has worked out better than I thought, I think to myself quite amazed.

“Uhm, yeah.  Done this a hundred times.”  I laugh to myself.  “And don’t be sorry at all, everything worked out like it should and I have it when I most need it!”  I swing the kit around, not sure how to retract back to the cabin.  “Well, thank you so much, and I’m so sorry for disturbing you.”  I give Cherry and Mark a kiss on the cheek and run out of the house like a bat out of hell.

I approach the Cabin and see through the window as Daryl’s face lights up slightly when he sees me coming.  He goes to open the door but stops short when his back no doubt holds him back.  I run inside and open the first aide kit.

“Careful!  No need to be moving around, just sit still.”  He puffs out air, some hair that fell in front of his eyes fly back.  He eyes the first aide and gives me a small smile.  

“Thanks.”  That made me stop.  I can’t help it, a teasing smile breaks through.

“Did thee Daryl Dixon just say thank you?”  I giggle, he rolls his eyes at me, cracking a small grin too.

“Nah, you hearing things.”  We both laugh lightly, Daryl slowly reaches over for the kit.  I stop him, giving him a questioning look.

“I know what I’m doing, been here before.”He says.  I place the kit in my lap and give him a look.

“So have I.”  He sits back, eyebrows furrowed.  His mouth opens lightly, I know he wants to say something, but his words fell short as he looked into my eyes.  We shared the same look, the one you get carved into you from hands of abuse.  Daryl clenches his fists and draws his lips back, like a dog growling.

“Carter.”  He states, venomously.  I give a stiff nod and we didn’t mention it further although it seemed like Daryl wanted to.  I grabbed a towel and soaked it in water.  I slowly approach Daryl and stand between his legs, he looks softly up at me from his position on the bed.  

“May I?”  He swallows thickly, and wordlessly gives me permission with a nod of his head.  I tuck my pointer finger under the towel, and use it to wipe blood from his upperlip.  He winces and his hands shoot up, grabbing at my hips.  My movements falter at his touch, his large hands, calloused and rough, but so soft against my bare hip.  My pajama consisted of a large shirt, and shorts like underwear.  

“‘m sorry.”  He mumbles, hands falling back at his side.  I continue wiping the blood off of his face softly.

“It’s okay, you can hold me if it helps.”  I smirk down at him, he rolls his eyes and I feel his disbelieving smile against the towel.  Truth was though, I loved him holding me like that, I wanted him too.  We were like that for a while, until his face was clean.  I placed a disinfection on all the open cuts on his face, and an adhesive band-aide.  When I’m done, I inspect his face.  Even all roughed up, he was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

“This your dad?”  I ask, after a while of inspecting him, he was inspecting me too, his small smile dropped, as well as his gaze.  

“Yeah, my ain’t good fer nothin’ pop beats me.  That what ya wanna hear?”  His face contorts with anger.  “That I ain’t nothin’ to him but a beatin’ bag, a disappointment.”  He fist the bloody sheets of my bed.  “That I ain’t nothin’.”  His voice cracks and tears spill out of his eyes.  He wipes at them angrily but they won’t stop.  A sob breaks through his lips, and his body shudders.  I wipe his tears away for him, and dab at my own.  

“Daryl...You are so many things. So many incredible things.”  He’s coughing on his sobs now, head in his hands.  The sound broke me.  What could I say to make his pain go away?  What could I do to take it from him?  “You’re more than what your dad thinks of you.  You-you don’t need him...you have me.  And I think the world of you.”My own voice cracks.  I don’t know what to say that would reach him in the way it needs to.  So I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a hug.  His arms instantly snake around me and hold on for dear life, his head tucked into my stomach.   His cries stop for a second and I hold him tighter.

“Ya left me too...”He whispers, almost like he didn’t dare to say it, but he did.  My grip looseness, the guilt from so many years ago hitting me full force.  His head shifts and his eyes meet mine, his beautiful blue eyes.  I expected to see anger, but all I saw was hurt, and vulnerability.  Tears were drifting out of them slowly, and they glistened in the wet sheen.  I hold my breath.

“Ya left me there in the woods.  I thought I lost ya forever that day.  The stupid fuckin’ kiss.” He mumbles the last part to himself.  His hands bunches the fabric of my shirt, before he releases and stands with a pain filled sigh.  His hand lightly cups my cheek, I hold on to it.  A sad smile returns to his face, almost bitter.  “Ya should of ran when I held ya like this (Y/N).  If ya were gonna run anyway, then ya should have ran the first damn day we met.”  His hand drops down the base of my neck, he traces circles down the base of it slowly, inches above my chest.  It was silent for a few moments, heat and emotion trapped between our two bodies.  “When you were wearing that pretty lil necklace, we lost in the lake days after.”  His smile fades again as he drops his hand and picks up something from the kit.  Dabbing at his knuckles with the towel. Ignoring me.  He never was so open, I didn’t expect it to last very long.  I regain my voice and grab his forearm, making him look at me.

“It wasn’t a stupid kiss Daryl.  I was a stupid girl.  But I never planned on running from you, not even the first day we met.”  As a small chuckle slips from my sad demeanor, he looks at me.  Shyly from his lashes, watching me speak, hoping it was true. “I should have never ran.  Like I said, I always thought the world of you.”  He stops messing with his hand and stares at me for a long while.  He steps forwards and hugs me, a real hug.  His arms wrapped around my shoulders, my head tucked into his chest.  I hug him down my his butt, not wanting to hurt his back even more.  I felt deflated.  His lips trace my ear as he whispers into it.  

“I was a sorry fool the day ya left.”  His words echoed in my head all night, as we laid in silence.  Him sprawled on my bed as I patched up and cleaned his back.  He played with my hand, as the other raced through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

  “Goodnight Daryl.”  I whisper into his ear, giving him a soft kiss by his hairline before lying next to him.  I was answered with a snore.  I feel asleep watching him, and thinking of all that has changed, and all that has yet remained the same.  

[willow-bolton]

thicker than blood, darker than rubies || a bolton family mix (aka songs that remind Will of her family/she would dedicate to them) (in no particular order, 55 tracks)

@cas-bolton @eviebolton @dxn-bolton​

bones- young guns Down under the night sky/I lay in wait/Praying to whoever will listen to me/I fashioned my own cross/Been crushed by its weight/There's no stronger message/Than dirt in your face/I've seen down the end of the road/I deal in a different story, oh/I will never let go again/I feel it in my bones (bones), bones (bones)/I feel it in my bones (bones), bones (bones)/I'll do this on my own, own, own, own/Bones, bones/They say the spirit's willing/But the flesh is always weak I found everything I needed/Right beneath my skin

devil inside- citizen soldier In the middle of the night, it's haunting me/Whispers in the dark won't let me sleep/In the middle of the night, it wants my soul/Fighting for my life but it won't let go/I see an angel, I see the devil/Same old story that's been told/I don't deserve grace, fought for forgiveness/But I already sold my soul/I will always be a slave/To the voice inside my head/All these monsters deep inside/Will not rest until I'm dead/In the middle of the night, it's haunting me/Whispers in the dark won't let me sleep/In the middle of the night, it wants my soul/Fighting for my life but it won't let go/So throw me in the fire, fire, fire/Leave me here to burn, burn, burn/Throw me in the fire, fire, fire/Leave me here to burn, burn the devil out of me

no one’s here to sleep- naughty boy … Here's the pride before the fall/Oh, your eyes, they show it all/I can see it coming/I can see it coming/As I rise up through each floor/Shit gets dark and you lose it all/I can hear it coming/I can hear the drumming… Behind every door/Is a fall, a fall and/No one's here to sleep… You were always faster than me/I'll never catch up with you, with you/Oh I can feel them coming for me/And you were always faster than me/I'll never catch up with you, with you/Oh I can feel them coming for me

just one yesterday- fall out boy ft. foxes Lettin' people down is my thing, baby/Find yourself a new gig/This town ain't big enough for two of us/I don't have the right name/O-o-o-or the right looks/But I have twice the heart/Anything you say can and will be held against you/So only say my name/It will be held against you/Anything you say can and will be held against you/So only say my name, na-a-ame (Na-a-ame)/If heaven's grief brings hell's rain/Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/I know I'm bad news/For just one yesterday/I saved it all for you/I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way/Still I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/I know I'm bad news/For just one yesterday/I saved it all for you/For just one yesterday

meant to live- switchfoot Fumbling his confidence/And wondering why the world has passed him by/Hoping that he's bent for more than arguments/And failed attempts to fly, fly/We were meant to live for so much more/Have we lost ourselves?/Somewhere we live inside/Somewhere we live inside/We were meant to live for so much more/Have we lost ourselves?/Somewhere we live inside

alive- sia I was born in a thunderstorm/I grew up overnight/I played alone/I played on my own/I survived/Hey/I wanted everything I never had/Like the love that comes with light/I wore envy and I hated that/But I survived/I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go/Where the wind don't change/And nothing in the ground can ever grow/No hope, just lies/And you're taught to cry into your pillow/ But I survived

come undone- ffh (far from home) Open up wide, swallow down deep/No spoon full of sugar could make it sweet/The cancer inside stealing my sleep/Night after night it keeps haunting me/The secrets I keep are tearing me up inside/I try to hide them and I wonder why I wonder why I'm still running/When I know there's no escaping Come undone/Surrender is stronger/I don't need to be the hero tonight/We all want love/We all want honor/Nobody wants to pay the asking price/Fall on my knees/Fall on my pride/I'm tripping over all the times I've lied/I'm asking please but I can see in your eyes/You don't need tears for alibis/It's true what they say, love must be blind/It's why you're still standing by this sinner's

running up that hill- placebo You don't want to hurt me/But see how deep the bullet lies/Unaware that I'm tearing you asunder/There's a thunder in our hearts, baby/So much hate for the ones we love/Tell me, we both matter, don't we?/You (be running up that hill)/You and me (be running up that hill)/You and me won't be unhappy/And if I only could/Make a deal with God/I'd get him to swap our places/Be running up that road/Be running up that hill/Be running up that building/If I only could, oh

a reason to fight- disturbed When the demon that's inside you is ready to begin/And it feels like it's a battle that you will never win/When you're aching for the fire and begging for your sin/ When there's nothing left inside, there's still a reason to fight/Don't let it take your soul/Look at me take control/When knowing to fight this war/This is nothing worth dying for/Are you ready to begin?/This is a battle that we are gonna win/When you're aching for the fire and begging for your sin/When there's nothing left inside, there's still a reason/When the demon that's inside you is ready to begin/And it feels like it's a battle that you will never win/When you're aching for the fire and begging for your sin/When there's nothing left inside, there's still a reason to fight/I'll be your reason to fight/Give you a reason to fight

sooner or later- mat kearney We're all standing with our backs against the wall, sooner or later/Waiting on a phone that never calls, at all/Heartbreak comes rollin' in like a storm, sooner or later/Trying to swim, but you're sinking like a stone, alone/And I can feel fire in the night waiting here/Baby, it's like we're walking on a wire through the fear/Take my hand, we'll get there/Sooner or later, I swear we're gonna make it/We're gonna make it/Sooner or later, I swear we're gonna make it/We're gonna make it

i dare you to move- switchfoot … Welcome to the planet/Welcome to existence/Everyone's here/Everyone's here… Everybody's watching you now/Everybody waits for you now/What happens next?/What happens next?… I dare you to move/I dare you to move/I dare you to lift/Yourself up off by the floor

not alone- red Your heart is full of broken dreams/Just a fading memory/And everything's gone but the pain carries on/Lost in the rain again/When will it ever end?/The arms of relief seem so out of reach/But I, I am here/I am with you/I will carry you through it all/I won't leave you, I will catch you/When you feel like letting go/'Cause you're not, you're not alone/And I will be your hope when you feel like it's over/And I will pick you up when your whole world shatters/And when you're finally in my arms/You'll look up and see, love has a face

follow you down- gin blossoms Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down/Anyplace, but those I know by heart/Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down/I'll follow you down, but not that far/I know we're headed somewhere, I can see how far we've come/But still, I can't remember anything/Let's not do the wrong thing and I swear it might be fun/It's a long way down when all the knots we've tied have come undone/Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down/Anyplace, but those I know by heart/Anywhere you go, I'll follow you down/I'll follow you down, but not that far

desperate- stanfour You're reachin' out/And no one hears you cry/You're freakin' out again/Cause all your fears remind you/Another dream, has come undone/You feel so small and lost/Like you're the only one/You wanna scream/Cause you're desperate/You want somebody just anybody/To lay their hands on your soul tonight/You want a reason/To keep believin'/That someday/You're gonna see the light/It's 3a.m./There's no one left to call/And sleep's your only friend/But even sleep can't hide you/From all those tears/And all the pain/All those years you wasted/Pushing them away/You're goin´down/It's time you face it

echo- jason walker Hello, hello/Anybody out there?/'Cause I don't hear a sound/Alone, alone/I don't really know where the world is/But I miss it now/I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name/Like a fool at the top of my lungs/Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright/But it's never enough/'Cause my echo, echo/Is the only voice coming back/Shadow, shadow/Is the only friend that I have/Listen, listen/I would take a whisper/If that's all you had to give/But it isn't, is it?/You could come and save me/And try to chase the crazy right out of my head

no one’s gonna love you- band of horses … And anything to make you smile/It is my better side of you to admire/But they should never take so long/Just to be over then back to another one… And no/one is ever gonna love you more than I do/No one's gonna love you more than I do/But someone/They could have warned you/When things start splitting at the seams and now/The whole thing's tumbling down/Things start splitting at the seams and now/If things start splitting at the seams and now/It's tumbling down/Hard

forgiven- alanis morissette You know how us Catholic girls can be/We make up for so much time a little too late/I never forgot it, confusing as it was/No fun with no guilt feelings/The sinners, the saviors, the lover-less priests/I'll see you next Sunday/We all had our reasons to be there/We all had a thing or two to learn/We all needed something to cling to/So we did/I sang Alleluia in the choir/I confessed my darkest deeds to an envious man/My brothers they never went blind for what they did/But I may as well have/In the name of the Father, the Skeptic and the Son/I had one more stupid question/We all had our reasons to be there/We all had a thing or two to learn/We all needed something to cling to/So we did/What I learned I rejected but I believe again/I will suffer the consequence of this inquisition/If I jump in this fountain, will I be forgiven/We all had our reasons to be there/We all had a thing or two to learn/We all needed something to cling to/So we did/We all had delusions in our head/We all had our minds made up for us/We had to believe in something/So we did

fathers & daughters- michael bolton If I could catch a star for you/I swear I'd steal them all tonight/To make your every wish come true/And every dream for all your life/But that's not how the story goesThe world is full of perfect plans/If there's a promise that I broke/I know one day you will understand/When times are hard I know you'll be strong/I'll be there in you heart when you'll carry on/Like moonlight on the water, and sunlight in the sky/Fathers and daughters never say goodbye/An Angel I will read to sleep/Gave me one dream of my own/So learn to love and spread your wings/And find the one to call your home

first man- camila cabello Yes I'm gonna stay with him tonight/I'll see you in the mornin'/No of course, he won't drink and drive/Can you say bye to mom for me?/Oh you'll like him, he's really kind/And he's funny like you sometimes/And I found someone I really like/Maybe for the first time/No I don't need a jacket/It's not that cold tonight/And you worry, I get it/But he's waiting outside/I swear on my heart/That he's a good man/I know you'll stay up late/Just waiting for me/You held me so tight/Now someone else can/But you were the first man that really loved me

the mystic’s dream- loreena mckennitt (no lyrics needed- this is purely for the pagan/celtic vibes)

all souls night- loreena mckennitt Bonfires dot the rolling hills/Figures dance around and around/To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness/Moving to the pagan sound/Somewhere in a hidden memory/Images float before my eyes/Of fragrant nights of straw and of bonfires/And dancing till the next sunrise/I can see lights in the distance/Trembling in the dark cloak of night/Candles and lanterns are dancing, dancing/A waltz on All Souls Night

celtic- jonathan maiocco (instrumental)

ladies in the 90s- lauren alaina Diva in the living room/Mama's heels on after school/Learning all my moves on MTV/They weren't afraid to make a statement/That's what I call entertainment All those women paved the way for me/Yeah, southern twang/Teaser bangs I was matching all their lipstick/Close my eyes all the time/I wish I could relive it/I just wanna feel like ladies in the 90s/Turn the dial and find me some Strawberry Wine/So I can sing all night long, acting like I'm Britney/Come on baby, hit me just one more time/Hey, man I feel like a woman/I can feel you breathe when you say my name/Hey I don't want no scrubs/Need a cowboy to take me away/I wanna feel like ladies in the 90s/Ladies in the 90s, hey hey hey

redhead- caylee hammack  ft. reba mcentire Bull in a china shop, rose-colored reckless/Tried to run away, but trouble loves a little redhead/Oh, they got their hands full, tryin' to tame a pistol/Spitfire, freckles that could run among the dead/Clothes line, tightropes, daredevil, high hopes/They raised a little hell when they raised a little redhead, mm/Oh, they got their hands full, tryin' to tame a pistol/Spitfire, freckles that could run among the dead/Clothes line, tightropes, daredevil, high hopes/They raised a little hell when they raised a little redhead/God made the blondes, black-haired, and the brunettes/Devil dropped in said, "I don't think you're done yet"/Let's make a compromise, make an angel backslide/So they chipped in, and they made a little redhead

you can’t lose me- faith hill A little girl, a little small for her age/A little too slow for the field day race/Momma's waiting at the finish line/And wipes the teardrops from her eyes/She says, "You did just fine honey, that's okay/Sometimes life's just that way/You're gonna lose the race from time to time/But you're always gonna find/You can't lose me/Bet your life/I am here and I will always be/Just a wish away/Wherever you go/No matter how far/My love is where you are/You won't be lost if you believe/You can't lose me"/Momma use to say "Girl it won't be long/'Til it's time to go out on your own/Chase your dreams find your place in life/I know you'll do just fine"/When that day finally came/There were things she needed to but could not say/So I whispered softly as I wiped/The tears from/Momma's eyes/"You can't lose me/Bet your life/I am here and I will always be/Just a wish away/Wherever I go/No matter how far/My love is where you are/You won't be lost if you believe/You can't lose me"

somebody’s hero- jamie o’neal She's never pulled anybody from a burning building/She's never rocked Central Park to a half a million fans screaming out her name/She's never hit a shot to win the game/She's never left her footprints on the moon/She's never made a solo hot air balloon ride around the world/No she's just your everyday average girl (but)/She's somebody's hero/A hero to her baby with a skinned-up knee/A little kiss is all she needs/The keeper of the Cheerios/The voice that brings Snow White to life/Bedtime stories every night/And that smile lets her know/She's somebody's hero

paralyzed- nf When did I become so numb?/When did I lose myself?/All the words that leave my tongue/Feel like they came from someone else/I'm paralyzed/Where are my feelings?/I no longer feel things/I know I should/I'm paralyzed/Where is the real me?/I'm lost and it kills me/Inside/I'm paralyzed

always gold- radical face We were tight knit boys/Brothers in more than name/You would kill for me/And knew that I'd do the same/And it cut me sharp/Hearing you'd gone away/But everything goes away/Yeah everything goes away/But I'm going to be here until I'm nothing/But bones in the ground/And I was there, when you grew restless/Left in the dead of night/And I was there, when three months later/You were standing in the door all beat and tired/And I stepped aside/Everything goes away/Yeah everything goes away/But I'm gonna be here until I'm nothing/But bones in the ground/So quiet down

mama- spice girls I didn't want to hear it then, but I'm not ashamed to say it now/Every little thing you said and did was right for me/I had a lot of time to think about/About the way I used to be/Never had a sense of my responsibility/Back then, I didn't know why/Why you were misunderstood/So now, I see through your eyes/All that you did was love/Mama, I love you, Mama, I care/Mama, I love you, Mama, my friend/You're my friend/You're my friend

wind beneath my wings- bette midler Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh/It must have been cold there in my shadow/To never have sunlight on your face/You were content to let me shine, that's your way/You always walked a step behind/So I was the one with all the glory/While you were the one with all the strength/A beautiful face without a name for so long/A beautiful smile to hide the pain/Did you ever know that you're my hero/And everything I would like to be?/I can fly higher than an eagle/For you are the wind beneath my wings/It might have appeared to go unnoticed/But I've got it all here in my heart/I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it/I would be nothing without you

father and daughter- paul simon If you ever awake/In the mirror of a bad dream/And for a fraction of a second/You can't remember where you are/Just open your window/And follow your memories/Upstream/To the meadow in the mountain/Where we counted every falling star/I believe the light that shines on you/Will shine on you forever/(Forever)//And though I can't guarantee there's nothing scary/Hidin' under your bed/I'm gonna/Stand guard/Like the postcard/Of the golden retriever/And never leave/'Til I leave you/With a sweet dream in your head

cry to me- heart Poor little dreamer/Stand inside the door/You can't find the easy rhymes/Of time you had before/It hurts my heart so bad/Seeing you sigh and shake/Broken down so low, so sad/I can't let you break/Cry to me, cry to me/You better not hide it/Let it come, let it bleed/I ain't laughing, reach in and get it/And set it free/Cry to me, cry to me

brother- kodaline When we were young we were the ones/The kings and queens oh yeah, we ruled the world/We smoked cigarettes man no regrets/Wish I could relive every single word/We've taken different paths/And travelled different roads/I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old/And when you're in the trenches/And you're under fire I will cover you/If I was dying on my knees/You would be the one to rescue me/And if you were drowned at sea/I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe/I've got you brother/I've got you brother

as it seems- lily kershaw Well I knew/What I didn't want to know/And I saw/Where I didn't want to go/So I took the path less traveled on/And I'll let my stories be whispered/When I'm gone/When I'm gone/When I'm gone/When I'm gone/Well in this life you must find something to live for/'Cause when the darkness comes a callin'/You'll go back to where you were before/'Cause this life is as/Fragile as a dream, and/Nothing's ever really/As it seems

just breathe- pearl jam Yes I understand/That every life must end/As we sit alone/I know someday we must go/Oh, I'm a lucky man/To count on both hands/The ones I love/Some folks just have one/Yeah, others they got none/Stay with me/Let's just breathe/Practiced on our sins/Never gonna let me win/Under everything/Just another human being/Yeah, I don't want to hurt/There's so much in this world/To make me bleed

sons and daughters- allman brown & liz lawrence And I will hold you tight/Like the moon in the arms of the sky/And I will keep you warm/I will build a fire in this house/And I'll build a fire/You fetch the water and I'll lay the table/And in our hearts/We still pray for sons and daughters/And all those evenings/Out in the garden, with red red wine/These quiet hours turning to years/And I, I'll wrap myself/Around your heart/I'll be the walls of his heart/And I, I'll keep a light on/To call you back home

be still- the fray Be still and know that I'm with you/Be still and know that I am here/Be still and know that I'm with you/Be still, be still, and know/When darkness comes upon you/And colors you with fear and shame/Be still and know that I'm with you/And I will say your name/If terror falls upon your bed/And sleep no longer comes/Remember all the words I said/Be still, be still, and know

smother- daughter I'm wasted, losing time/I'm a foolish, fragile spine/I want all that is not mine/I want him but we're not right/In the darkness I will meet my creators/And they will all agree, that I'm a suffocator/I should go now quietly/For my bones have found a place/To lie down and sleep/Where all my layers can become reeds/All my limbs can become trees/All my children can become me/What a' mess I leave/To follow/In the darkness I will meet my creators/They will all agree, I'm a suffocator/Suffocator/Oh no/I'm sorry if I smothered you/I sometimes wish I'd stayed inside/My mother/Never to come out

lead me home- jamie n commons Oh lord live inside me/Lead me on my way/Oh lord live inside me/Lead me on my way/Lead me home/Lead me home/Oh lord in the darkness/Lead me on my way/Oh lord in the darkness/Lead me on my way

mother- sugarland She'll take you in, feed your friends/Her open arms are welcoming/She'll rub your back all night when you're crying/She'll listen to you tell your story/Hold your fear and all your worries/Help you find the truth when they're all lying/Even when it's hopeless, she keeps trying/She's your mother, you love her/There won't be another/place like her again that you call home/She stands here to help you/there's nothing she won't do/As long as she's alive/you're not alone/you've got each other/That's your mother

family name- peter bradley adams I look around to find the way it all began/The years have turned like the heart of a man/But I'll say that I'm grateful for the time that has passed/And I'll stay right where I am/Well I raise my glass with the unfortunate ones/We are broken and tired from the miles we have run/But our hearts they are open and the healing's begun/And now our chance has come/Win or lose, it's a hell of game/The roads we choose, they all end up the same/So rest your hearts on the family name/We'll find our way back home .

comes and goes- greg laswell This one's for the faithless/The ones that are surprised/They're only where they are now/Regardless of their fight/This one's for believing/If only for it's sake/Come on friends get up now/Love is to be made/And this part was for her/And this part was for her/This part was for her/Does she remember?

kind & generous- natalie merchant You've been so kind and generous/I don't know how you keep on giving/For your kindness I'm in debt to you/For your selflessness my admiration/For everything you've done you know I'm bound/I'm bound to thank you for it/La la la la/Hey hey hey/You've been so kind and generous/I don't know how you keep on giving/For your kindness I'm in debt to you/And I never could have come this far without you/For everything you've done, you know I'm bound/I'm bound to thank you for it

mama’s song- carrie underwood Mama, you taught me to do the right things/So, now you have to let your baby fly/You've given me everything that I will need/To make it through this crazy thing called life/And I know you watch me grow up/And only want what's best for me/And I think I found the answer to your prayers/And he is good, so good/He treats your little girl/Like a real man should/He is good, so good/He makes promises he keeps/No, he's never gonna leave/So, don't you worry about me/Don't you worry about me/Mama, there's no way you'll ever lose me/Giving me away is not goodbye/As you watch me walk down to my future/I hope tears of joy are in your eyes

shiny- sara bareilles She has her back to me at the kitchen sink/I'm trying to read her mind, wondering/What she doesn't say to anybody/The laundry's folded, beds are made/It's like this every single day/It's memorized, but a thin disguise/I see what she can't see/Her light only ever landed on me/But there's a glimmer in her brown eyes/The ones she gave to me/So I know we can both be shiny/She calls on Sundays, checking in/We talk about the weather again/It never changes, she wonders where the rain is/Once in a while I catch a glimpse/Of the truest things that she keeps hidden/Her secret heart, that's my favorite part

cover me in sunshine- pink, ft. willow sage hart I've been dreaming of friendly faces/I've got so much time to kill/Just imagine people laughing/I know some day we will/And even if it's far away/Get me through another day/Cover me in sunshine/Shower me with good times/Tell me that the world's been spinning since the beginning/And everything will be alright/Cover me in sunshine/From a distance all these mountains/Are just some tiny hills/Wildflowers, they keep living/While they're just standing still/I've been missing yesterday/But what if there's a better place?

promise- tori amos Promise not to judge/To judge who you love/I don't know if I/Yes, make that/Promise/Whatever it is/Can you hear the truth/If they accuse me/You think I'll doubt you?/What I need to know, will you/Be there, Be there, Be there/Be there, Be there, Be there/Where the sun shines/I will be there/You are the light/That follows you everywhere/And look for my love/Where the sun shines/I will be there/Will you

like my mother does- laura alaina People always say/I have a laugh/Like my mother does/Guess that makes sense/She taught me how to smile/When things get rough/I've got her spirit/She's always got my back/When I look at her/I think, I want to be just like that/When I love I give it all I've got/Like my mother does/When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray/Like my mother does/When I'm weak and unpretty/I know I'm beautiful and strong/Because I see myself like my mother does/Like my mother does

always be your baby- natalie grant You were my first love/Always there for me/You taught me how me to walk and how to dream/God gave me your eyes/But it was you who showed me how to see/Now I can stand on my own/But I know you'll never let go/I'll always be your baby/No matter how the years fly by/The way you loved me/Made me who I am in this world/I'm a woman now/Not a little girl/Wherever this life takes me/I'll always be your baby/You are my hero/And that will never change/You still can dry my tears with just your smile/The one I've leaned on/From my first steps/To walking down the aisle/Now there's another man in my life/But I know by the look in your eyes/ I'll always be your baby

my wish- rascal flatts I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow/And each road leads you where you want to go/And if you're faced with a choice, and you have to choose/I hope you choose the one that means the most to you/And if one door opens to another door closed/I hope you keep on walkin' 'till you find the window/If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile/But more than anything, more than anything/My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to/Your dreams stay big, your worries stay small/You never need to carry more than you can hold/And while you're out there getting where you're getting to/I hope you know somebody loves you, and wants the same things too/Yeah, this, is my wish

your joy- chrisette michelle Walk down the sidewalk/Staring at your feet/Wishing my steps were longer/So by your sides I could keep/Hold your hand much bigger/Never wanted mine to grow/So I could always fit perfect/Inside your palms just so/No one loves me just like you do/No one knows me just like you do/No one can compare to the way my eyes fit in yours/You'll always be my father, oh/And I'll always be your joy

daddy’s little girl- the shires The smell of Old Spice/A flat cap on the dash/Windows rolled down in the wind/While birds fly past/Singing along with the radio/A little latitude/Hanging onto that steering wheel/Was the man who hung the moon/Used to wrap my hands around his little finger/Turns out he was wrapped around mine/He said, "You can be anything you want to in this great big world"/But I'm always gonna be daddy's little girl/He always used to tell me, "Don't grow up too fast/Love will come, love will go, your first won't be your last"/I didn't always listen when he gave me advice/Though I hate to admit it, but that man is always right

daddy dance with me- krystal keith I know what you see when you look at me/As we walk down the aisle/Little pink tutu, bows and tennis shoes/In the wide eyes of your child/Those are all the memories you will cherish and you'll carry/No matter how much time has come and gone/Daddy dance with me/I want you to see the woman I've become./Daddy don't let go/I want you to know I'll always need your love./Today I became his wife/But I'll be your baby girl for life/Don't know what to do when I look at you/Words can't say enough/What you've done for me/You gave me what I need/You were tender, you were tough/Cause the world you built around me/Is the strength that will surround me/And protect me now that I am on my own/Daddy dance with me/I want you to see the woman I've become./Daddy don't let go/I want you to know I'll always need your love.

landslide- fleetwood mac I took my love, I took it down/I climbed a mountain and I turned around/And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills/'Til the landslide brought me down/Oh, mirror in the sky/What is love?/Can the child within my heart rise above?/Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?/Can I handle the seasons of my life?/Well, I've been afraid of changin'/'Cause I've built my life around you/But time makes you bolder/Even children get older/And I'm getting older too/Well, I've been afraid of changin'/'Cause I've built my life around you/But time makes you bolder/Even children get older/And I'm getting older too/Oh! I'm getting older too

a better son/daughter- rilo kiley But you'll fight and you'll make it through/You'll fake it if you have to and/You'll show up for work with a smile./You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up/And a better daughter or son and a real good friend/And you'll be awake/You'll be alert, you'll be positive though it hurts/And you'll laugh and embrace all your friends/You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest, you'll be brave/You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful/You'll be happy/Your ship may be coming in/You're weak, but not giving in/To the cries and the wails of the valley below/And your ship may be coming in/You're weak, but not giving in/And you'll fight it, you'll go out fighting all of them.

[softliebgott]

LEMONADE LIPS AND MARSHMALLOWS

You and your family have managed a somewhat peaceful farm life during the war until you discover two soldiers, George Luz and Frank Perconte, raiding your barn. Disappointed, but nonetheless grateful for the army’s presence, you invite them to have dinner for a proper meal. We all need some Luz Fluff™, or just some softness in general. This is my first attempt at writing Luz, so go easy (pun? yes) on me 😅 

TRANSLATIONS: Oma = grandma, Hurensohn = son of a bitch, rag = 40′s slang for “make fun of”

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March 11, 1945

Sturzelberg, Germany 

Farm life, the absence of human pollution; sound, smell, and people themselves, until the American army came to settle in the town nearby. You didn’t mind. In fact, you were grateful. Germany’s dictator was losing his hold on the reins he sought to keep steady.

A dirt road, reminiscent of chocolate powder, cut past a field. Out of this empty land your family’s farm rose up with its buildings like a huddle of old, painted vessels floating in still water.

The sun embraced its newfound world with warmth that felt different than when the war was at its worst. Perhaps the earth felt it could finally breathe, knowing its body would no longer suffer great wounds from weaponry. It wouldn’t have to weep as it welcomed more of the dead. 

Walking the fields with your father, you bent down to pluck a ripe tomato from its brittle stalk, and then bit into it. Acidic, like an apple. Sweet, like a strawberry. Juicy, like a plum.

“(Y/N),” came your father’s gravelly voice. Knelt down beside a tomato stalk, he looked at you from over his shoulder. His gray eyes, rivaling the polished metal of a suit of armor, reflected the sun’s glare. The map of wrinkles on his face spoke of an incredible journey. His eye lines held echoes of laughter and warm smiles, while his forehead told of worries past and worries present. Sixty years of his story ingrained in him, telling of the man he became; kind, compassionate, and a little tired. Amused, he smiled. “What shall I tell your mother?”

“What both of us already tell her, papa.” You moved to his side, gripped his shoulder, and bent at your knees to whisper, “Rabbits.” You lifted your brow.

He chuckled, crow’s feet lines creasing the edges of his eyes. Your favorite laugh. The kind, when you were a little girl, you loved to feel rock his chest when you hugged him or fell asleep to in his arms. 

You straightened up, smiling impishly as you took another bite of your tomato.

“Perhaps before you tempt me to have a few, could you check the hens for eggs and milk Gerdy? Your mother is wanting to make *Oma’s Apple Cake.”

“Yes, papa.” 

You left the field, finishing your tomato as you headed for the barn. Pulling the wooden door open, light spilled in and washed over, to your shock, two American soldiers standing on a crate and raiding the eggs. One held a hen, while the other had been using his helmet to pile eggs into. Their attention was snagged by you.

“Guten tag, Fraulein.” The soldier holding the hen smiled. He gazed at you through deep-set, hickory brown eyes. A few strands of hair, similar in color to his eyes, hung loose over his forehead. His features, rugged, yet soft, seemed boyish. To you, it felt like he was one of those little boys who tried to grow up too fast.

You folded your arms against your chest, brow furrowed. “You have no right to be stealing.” You did not expect such behavior as this. It disappointed you. 

“Hey, Miss, we’re fighting Hitler,” the other soldier said. “I think we have a right.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. He was half right, but you were in no mood to argue, but to come to an agreement. “You won’t have a proper meal with just eggs. Come on inside and we’ll fix you something.”

The soldiers exchanged looks.

Leading them to your house, the soldier who had first greeted you matched your pace, eager in talking to you, while his friend muttered, “Luz, leave her alone.”

“Hey, what’s your name?” Luz asked.

“(Y/N).”

“I’m George. You sure do speak English well.”

“My mother wanted me to learn for when the British would come, but...”

George grinned, tuning his voice to a deeper tone in a British accent. “Ole Churchill needed an edge of Americanism in his tea.”

You giggled. “We are grateful that you are here.”

He had not made a woman laugh, or heard one such as yours, more attractive to him than woodland birdsong, in years. He wanted to hear it again, to see the way your eyes squinted, and to hear your jumbled words. The laughter and smiles of his friends would never get old, for he strove to give them those little pleasures. Now, he wanted to make you laugh so he could feel that warmth he lit for others.

Inside your family’s quaint home, you introduced the soldiers to your mother, who was washing dishes. “Momma, this is George Luz and Frank Perconte. I caught them stealing our eggs.” You looked as smug as a dog stealing a Christmas goose. “I thought we could make them a proper meal as compromise.”

“Oh, you boys shouldn’t have to steal to get a good meal. Come, sit down.”

Thanking her, George and Frank propped their guns against the wall next to the coat rack. You wondered how many lives those weapons reaped, and it made you think of your brother and cousins who had been drafted. No news had come of their deaths yet, and you often begged to God to spare them through muffled sobs in the night.

Frank offered the helmet-full of eggs to you, the edge of his mouth curling. His eyes reminded you of the chocolate your mother would melt for her cakes. Fine, smooth, and inviting. “Sorry for raidin’ your barn,” he said.

You smiled, taking the olive green helmet. “I’m glad to have caught you.”

As you moved to the counter, the wooden chairs behind you growled against the hard flooring as the men sat themselves. You looked over your shoulder to them. “Would you like some lemonade?”

“Boy, would I.” George beamed.

“Yeah, I’ll take some, too.” Childlike enthusiasm brimmed in Frank’s eyes.

You retrieved the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and then reached for two glasses from the overhead cupboard.

“They are both such handsome men. They remind me of your brother and cousins,” your mother whispered. 

“I just hope they can come home.” You poured the lemonade into the glasses, its tartness rubbing uncomfortably at your nasal cavity.

“They will. I have hope.”

“Is hope enough anymore?” You questioned, heartache softening your gaze.

Your mother tilted her head, eyebrows squished together. Truth was, she had been trying to keep positiveness afloat, but you kept punching holes in the raft. She sighed, averting her eyes and continued to prepare the meal.

A traditional roast of heavily marinated meat, bread rolls, and potato dumplings were prepared. Your father had come in for a break, taken aback by the presence of American soldiers, but had immediately shook hands with them. He was just as grateful to have them here as you were.

“Hey.” Frank bumped his elbow against George, irked. “You gonna take all the rolls? That’s your third one.”

“What are you gonna do, Per-Short-Te, punch me over this nice family dinner?”

You quietly laughed to yourself. You and your parents hadn’t had a dinner such as this after your brother and cousins left. Light-hearted, and distracting their minds from wandering into those claustrophobic tunnels of anxiety.

George noticed your quiet laughter. He caught your eyes and his face softened. Unbeknownst to you, you had the right colors to paint him where the war had watered him down to dismal grayness. He didn’t want this dinner to end. He wanted time alone with you.

You sucked in your lower lip. You had been studying him throughout the meal when he wasn’t looking. You noticed how his bottom lip was fuller, and wondered if you could taste the lemonade if you’d kissed him. Fearful that he could decipher your thoughts in your expression, you forced your eyes down to your lap.

“How long will you be staying in Sturzelberg?” Your father asked.

You felt George’s boot touch your foot, and cold, static-y surprise overwhelmed your body. You glanced up to him as he took a swig of his lemonade. He winked, and heat rushed to your cheeks while you gained a heart beat between your thighs.

“Could be a night or two. We don’t usually know for how long wherever we go,” Frank replied.

“Hey, uh, where’s your bathroom?” George asked.

“Oh.” Your mother’s eyebrows perked up. “(Y/N), could you show this young man where the bathroom is please?”

You felt air catch in your throat. “Yes, Momma,” you said quietly, rising from your seat. 

Yours and George’s movements irritated the senior chairs, triggering arthritic creaks from their legs. You led George out of the kitchen and into the hall. The cornflower blue, floral walls were adorned with framed pictures and embroideries. The wall sconces, wearing earrings of long, fake crystals, often struggled to keep their territory lit as streetlights did at night. 

A bubble of awkward silence swelled between you and George, until he stopped to look at a portrait of a young man in uniform. “This your boyfriend?” He asked. 

“No, that’s my brother.”

“Do you and your family, uh...like Hitler?”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “We loathe him, and even more-so after the men in our family were drafted.”

“I have a theory that he wears a hair-piece. He walks outside one morning, and one gust of wind turns him into a chrome-dome with a penciled mustache. Mr. Honcho holds his bald head and whines.” George placed his finger below his nose to imitate a mustache, deepening and strangling his voice to mimic Hitler. “Hurensohn!” He spoke more, but of jumbled nonsense to rag Hitler about his energetic speeches. “He’s stompin’ away, and his SS boys are chasin’ after the hair piece down the street like it’s a loose dog.”

There it was. Your smile, your laughter. His new favorite sight and sound. His chest and stomach became lightweight, as if he had taken flight. Holy shit, I’m done for, he thought.

After you had shown George to the bathroom, you retreated to your room, wanting to do your daily ritual of looking at your favorite photo album. You sat on the edge of your bed, the album open and resting on your lap. The pictures it embraced featured your favorite memories all the way up until your brother and cousins put on their uniforms. You wanted to save the last few pages for when they would return.

You knew their smiles would either go into hiding or be wrung out of them like water from a cloth. Their laughter would be hard to beckon out, and their minds would be battered vases. You and your parents were determined to help mend those cracks with the priceless gold that came from love, such as the Japanese art form, Kintsugi.

Life would be different, but at least they’d be alive.

“This your room?”

You looked over your shoulder at George, his eyes bouncing about the area in childlike curiosity.

You smiled, closing the photo album. “Yes.”

He approached your bedside. “Mind if I?” He gestured to your bed.

You shook your head and set the album on your nightstand. The bed dipped with his weight, and for a moment you felt you would lose your balance and tip backward onto him. He laid down on his back, crossing his legs. “Jesus Christ, it’s like lying on a marshmallow.” He shifted uncomfortably.

You faced him, a smile playing at your lips. “What have you been sleeping on all war?”

“Uh, well, let’s see. Cold, hard grounds with a side of foxholes.” He turned his head to you. “But speaking of marshmallows, you got any?”

You went out to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of sizable marshmallows, earning questionable glances from your parents and Frank. When you returned to your room, you sat with George and indulged in the puffy treats. Your hands became sticky and little bits of white flesh lingered on your skin like how Styrofoam would. 

Your mind kept trying to yank you back to thoughts of your family in the army, and it occurred to you that since there was a soldier right next to you, you could ask him about things you often wondered about. “What has the war been like...?” You asked.

“Well,” George’s voice was muffled by his chewing. “It’s different for every guy. Different for every army. There’s good times, and there’s bad. Some guys try to make light of things to ease the bad, right? Well, take that for the time my boys and I were in England for continued training. Our commanding officer and drill instructor was Captain Sobel. He didn’t know what the hell he was doin’, and we were hidin’ behind this big bush and couldn’t break silence. That is, until one of the boys told me to mimic Major Horton to fuck around with Sobel.” 

George pulled out two marshmallows, shaping one to appear skinnier. He held it up in one hand, “Here’s Sobel, and here’s me.” In his other hand he held the normal sized marshmallow. He began to imitate Horton and Sobel, squishing the marshmallows to make it appear as if they were talking. He told the story, earning from you grins and giggles. “I got him to cut the barbed wire fence, and he ended up releasin’ a whole herd of cows. He got his ass chewed out by the Major later.”

He wasn’t sure if you were aware of the captivating picture you made when you smiled. He hoped you did. You were more enthralling than a pulsing light show of fireflies in the night, but it gave him the same feeling of being spellbound.

“There’s moments like that, and then the real thing comes out of nowhere.” George grabbed a handful of marshmallows and scattered them to represent the trees in Bastogne. As he told you about the sudden onslaught of German artillery, he ripped the marshmallows apart just as the trees had been. Boom. Rip. Boom. Rip. 

He seemed hypnotized, like a vampire obsessively counting rice. He was lost in the memory that haunted his dreams, stained his eyes with the blurred vision of black and white explosions, and echoed in his ears with the screams of Muck and Penkala. Numb, his voice went dull as he relived it before his eyes.

You didn’t laugh or smile, but this is what you asked for. What it was like. You wondered if you shouldn’t have asked. You had disturbed those memories, and now George was lost in their raging sea.

“Two of my buddies were hit directly in their foxhole...and the other lost his leg.” He was there again, innards trembling and his mind blank as he stared at Toye lying in the snow, his leg looking like messily butchered, raw chicken. 

“I’m so sorry...I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“Yeah...war is hell.” George didn’t meet your eyes. The liveliness had abandoned him.

Guilt-ridden, you cautiously reached for his hand, which clutched at the torn remains of marshmallows. You unlocked his grip, the pieces falling onto your bed, and tangled your fingers with his. The stickiness from the marshmallows welded your hands together.

He released a breath he had been holding and closed his eyes, the tension draining from his body. He squeezed your hand.

“Hey, Luz, c’mon. We gotta head back.” Frank’s voice sounded from the hallway.

George opened his eyes to you, his thumb stroking your hand.

You followed him out of your bedroom, having given him the bag of marshmallows. You didn’t want him to leave, but you certainly wanted to see him again. Whenever that may be. Thus an idea came to you. You snatched a small photograph of yourself from your mother’s China cabinet and wrote a note, your address, and phone number on the back in spidery handwriting.

“George, wait.” You approached him as he and Frank grabbed their rifles. You handed him your photograph, heart drumming. “A reminder that if you need a safe place to come to, it’s here.” 

George smiled at your picture, thinking, better than any pin-up girl. He carefully put it in his jacket’s inner pocket. “I’ll be seein’ ya, gorgeous, whenever this war ends.” He winked, popping a marshmallow into his mouth, and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

You had watched him and Frank leave the property, grinning when George looked back over his shoulder and smiled, his cheeks stuffed with marshmallows like a squirrel.

How you wanted to kiss those stubbled cheeks.

As the sun closed its blaring eye, you sat in bed, writing in your journal. Every sentence you tried to write started with George and ended with your heart wanting to burst open, less like gates during a flood and more like a peach growing on a vine. So ripe. So ripe, so ready for the fall.

A rhythmic tap at your window froze you. Could it be the wind using a tree branch to make its nightly tunes again? No, because you saw a human shadow, a cookie cutter shape in the pool of moonlight. You closed your journal and peeled the sheets and blanket away.

When you approached the window, your heart fluttered in surprise. George. You unlocked the window and slid it up. “George, what are you doing here?”

He awkwardly climbed through, almost stumbling to the floor. After you closed the window, you met his eyes, and you found where the sun had gone; in his smile, the warmth echoing in his voice. “I want to feel safe tonight.”

Heat rushed to your chest, and your body quivered as if on low blood sugar as George stripped down to a cotton white shirt and boxer shorts. He joined you beneath the covers, his dog tags clanking. He snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you snug against him, like two perfect puzzle pieces fitting. He caged you within his arms, and you felt a heartbeat much stronger between your thighs this time. He smelled like an ashtray, but you didn’t care as you nuzzled your face into his chest.

“You know, at first I considered you out of my league,” he said. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen into my arms.”

You laughed into his chest.

[mechanicalinertia]

What’s next for Divine Patronage?

So my Ranma / Ah My Goddess! / other miscellaneous anime that take place in 1990′s Tokyo fanfic has become more popular than anything else I’ve ever written. I may have classes but this is my designated ‘leisure activity’ now for sure.

Anyway, I have a rough idea for this initial ‘arc’, and how it’ll end. Fine. Whatever. More importantly, though, I have continuing ideas about how to cross over more and more mid-90′s anime and other things into this mishmash where Urd and Ranma have to ‘problem-solve’ things. Christ I wrote like 9 possible arc setups last night; it’ll take me years to make good on them if I do at all.

That’s why I’m a-posting brief summaries of them here, so if I give up on these people can just steal em’.

1. CRIMES OF THE MISHIMA GROUP AGAINST GOOD TASTE

Sayoko Mishima and her zaibatsu god-nap Keiichi and in doing so royally piss off Belldandy. Urd has to snatch the poor kid, who is now a minor god, out from Sayoko’s clutches before Belldandy just loses it and nukes earth in silent rage. Ranma can’t beat the compound alone, though, so Urd turns to Akiko Natsume - the actual head of Mishima - and her all purpose combat android for some help. Unfortunately, the android has a cat brain. Cue Ranma struggling to confront his fears to save the world.

Crossover with: All Purpose Cultural Catgirl Nuku Nuku, a medium-obscure OVA from the 90′s starring Megumi Hayashibara as the wacky cat-bot-girl with Saeko Shimazu (Kodachi’s voice among others) as Akiko. Good fun.

2. FATE / STRANGE; DAYS

Remember Lind, the Valkyrie from the Angel Eater Arc of AMG? Well, she back. She intervened in Fate / Zero’s Holy Grail War (assumed to take place around 1994) and contracted w/ Kiritsugu the way Urd did with Ranma. Now Kiri may have lost all his lady companions, but he gets Illya back from Germany and is raising her alongside Shirou with the help of Illya’s wacky maids. Maybe lil’ Rin and Sakura are involved, too, I dunno.

Anyway, Lind considers the Sailor Senshi a threat to the divine order (they do appear to predate human civilization) - especially since Saturn’s Glaive of Silence is believed to be the Norse Gungnir, Spear of Destiny, Odin’s superweapon that could (even in the OG myths) rewrite reality itself to render enemies nonexistent.

So Lind gets Kiritsugu, Arturia Saber, and Prisma Illya to go to Tokyo and track down Sailor Saturn with Ranma’s help. Then they end up teleporting to the distant past of the Silver Milennium, back when the Senshi’s magic rendered the other planets of the Solar System inhabitable. Cue a string of John Carter references.

Crossover with: Fate / Zero, Fate Kaleid Liner Prisma Illya. Might even separate the Fate story from the whole Saturn / Gungnir subplot - they’re just hunting Kirei and Gil, then. Sure. Fine.

3. THE FUTURE IS HERE AND IT SUCKS

Skuld time travels into the future, only to find that almost every single timeline ends with humanity being wiped out before the 22nd century - perhaps by SM’s Great Freeze, perhaps by other factors. Unfortunately, she forgot to close her possible-future-timeline portals properly, which leads to various cyberpunk futures bouncing off one another for supremacy in 1996.

(Look I wanted to just fuckin do BGC or GITS crossover. Couldn’t decide. Why not both?)

Crossover with: BGC 2032 (Or my 2069 rebot), Ghost in the Shell, Silent Mobius (maybe)

4. GAMES OF THE GODS

The obligatory ‘gang plays an RPG’ sitcom episode, only a) it’s Cyberpunk 2020 because I’ve read that system’s books, and b) the goddesses all bring their boytoys along to be sucked into the game world as their player characters. (Urd gets Ranma, Bell gets Keiichi, Skuld is the GM, Peorth gets Ryoga, Lind gets Kiritsugu) (I guess I better do an arc where Peorth patronizes Ryoga to screw with Urd...)

5. GUNS, BOMBS, ROCK N’ ROLL

Ranma gets dragged along by Urd for a vacation, theoretically to LA. But then after getting bored of the Obligatory Beach Episode, Urd rediscovers that she has a daughter in Chicago - Rally Vincent. She and Ranma rush off to screw up the events of the manga and protect her daughter from the brainwashing of a lesbian rapist crime lord. (I wish I was making that last bit up). Maybe Priss of BGC tags along to really hammer in the WACKY KENICHI SONODA CROSSOVER thing?

Crossover with: Gunsmith Cats, Riding Bean, maybe BGC

6. HEISEI BLOSSOMS BLOOMING

The Japanese government decides to reactivate the Teikoku Kagekidan project, this time using idoru as the mecha pilots instead of the Takarazura Revue thing they had going on in the 20′s. The K-on girls audition, the Love Live girls audition, someone in the Ranma cast or something tries out as well. Mecha are now nuclear-powered instead of steam-powered (whatever that means)

Crossover with: Original Sakura Wars franchise, Tite Kubo iteration non-involved. maybe K-on and Love Live

7. RANMA’S LUDICROUS EXCURSION: STAR-DIAMOND DUST IS UNCRUSADERABLE

Ranma gets a stand. Urd thinks it’s like her angel. Yare yare daze.

Crossover with: What do you think, genius?

8. ETERNAL SUMMER

Ranma gets trapped in a temporal anomaly centered around Tomobiki Town. Now it’s August 1982, Ataru and Lum are about to get married, and unless he can stop the total breakdown of the pocket reality within the seven days before the time loop resets he’ll become part of it forever. Trippy New Wave Existentialist Bullshit - Screwball Comedy meets Body Horror. Also see: Higurashi.

Crossover with: Urusei Yatsura

9. TRICOWBOYOUTLAW BEBOPGUNSTAR: EFF YOU, SPACE COWBOY

A valiant attempt to crossover all three of the late 90′s ‘Cowboy shonen’ anime of the time in one universe. A shared universe? Nah. We’re probably just gonna transplant all the characters into 90′s Tokyo again and watch the body count pile up.

Crossover with: Cowboy Bebop, Outlaw Star, Trigun. Oh, and maybe one of those ‘robo-maid’ shows from the aughties (Hand Maid May, Mahoromatic, Steel Angel Kurimi), just to fuck with everyone.

10. COPS AND ROBOTS

Ranma gets in trouble with the police for sneaking onto the Babylon Project, forced into community service, and then ends up blackmailed into the long-running grudgematch between the SV2 Labor Squad and the Tokyo Highway Patrol.

Crossover with: You’re Under Arrest, Patlabor (original OVA mostly)

11. SUPERIOR AUTOMATRONIC DISPUTE RESOLUTION: GO NAGAI EAT YOUR HEART OUT

Skuld gets in a fight with some deities from some rival pantheons, and as a proper grudgematch resolution they all resolve to build Giant Robots and then Battle Royale them. Ranma has to pilot one.

Crossover with: NOTHING.

12. THE HOUND OF ULSTER BARKS AT MIDNIGHT

Cu Chullain, husbando of Ex-Valkyrie and turncoat Irish goddess Scathach, teams up with Ranma in Dublin to stop IRA extremists from resurrecting the Tuatha De Dannan, specifically the Morrigan. A teenage Bazett (from Fate) shows up and gets all fangirly.

13. TALES FROM THE OOPS

An abandoned particle accelerator built in the 80′s near Stockholm may or may not cause Ragnarok. Ranma and some edgy Swedish Teenagers have to deal with 90′s recession bullshit and clean the place out

Crossover with: Tales from the Loop, Things From the Flood

That’s about it, honestly. I have other things I’d like to crossover with, tbh, mostly mecha stuff. Among them:

- Cannon God Exaxxion

- Eva

- Gundam UC

- Muv-Luv

-Negmia / another Ken Akumatsu trashpile (and I mean that in the best possible way)

Shit this is fun. Imma make another one of these posts with even more ludicrious crossovers later. Peace out.