handmadewithlovebymaryc

[sunfloo-wers]

Hello!! I read your post and...

a member of the chain hugging Sky? He's had a nightmare or a prophetic dream/vision like in sksw

I hope it might help! Thanks for accepting requests!!

Sooooo, it’s been a while since this was sent in and my brain latched on to the prophetic dreams part a wee bit too much and I completely forgot about the Hug part sooooooo uhhhhh *tosses this at you*

This Sky has much lighter hair and skin than I normally have him with in my head, but since the last “portrait” I did (the windy worms) had darker skin, I wanted to try something a bit different! (Also this was a bit of a test for upcoming whumptober pieces so I was already out of my comfort zone and lighter skins have always been harder for me to paint so I thought why not pile up the tribulations :D

I hope you like it despite the fact it strayed a bit from the initial request! I’ll probably do a hug some other time too!

version without writing under the cut:

Also without background cause I apparently had a photo of that :D (ignore how he looses his lichtenberg scars without the text, I did them after ._.)

[hannahssimblr]

I keep seeing anons mention Doors and your screenshots from a Sims 3 story. What was it about?

omg! Doors was my second 'big' story written using sims, the first that I took to its own blog because I kept getting banned from the exchange. It was a wild ride. I wrote it when I was maybe seventeen and it's VERY silly and disjointed, I was not a girl with a plan, I just went with the flow of it and you could tell, but anyway, the synopsis is under the cut.

it's about a 17 year old girl called Kady Lawson whose parents recently got divorced. She and her mother move to the top floor an old Brownstone building in Bridgeport.

Kady immediately starts to experience strange happenings in the house, and wonders whether she and her mother are really alone... It begins with strange knocking on the wall of her bedroom that only gets worse and worse as time goes on. Then things start falling off the shelves in her bedroom and she becomes convinced that there's a poltergeist in her house.

She tries to explain this to her mother (an airhead) who obviously doesn't believe her.

Anyway, obviously things get way worse and the poltergeist kicks into high gear and starts throwing things at Kady and physically injuring her. She also notices a figure of a strange woman in the background of a family photo that definitely wasn't there before. Creep city, if you ask me.

Anyway, then one night Kady is trying to sleep when the lights of the city outside strangely dim and it goes deathly silent. The figure of a woman materialises in the corner of her bedroom and stares her. Kady is too afraid to move so she just stares back and prays that she will leave her alone. After several terrifying moments the woman floats towards the bookshelves in Kady's room, through them, and disappears into the wall. Kady, super smart gorl, pulls back the bookcases to revel *gasp!* a hidden door.

Kady goes through the door to find an array of desperately boring things, paintings, boxes, an easel, nothing of remote interest except for another door on the other side of this little crawl space. Brave girl, she steps through it to find...

The neighbour's apartment. It's a trendy loft that belongs to a guy called Tristan, who becomes Kady's sidekick in this mystery. This is pretty much when I decided to give up on the ghost thing and make it a love story instead, but I tried my best to keep the mystery going even though i no longer cared about it. Tristan is a former child actor who has escaped Lucky Palms for a secluded life in Bridgeport, away from his insane parents, his grief over his dead sister and his (obvious, but never explicitly stated) drug additions. "It's hell, like siberia except it's warmer" - he explained to her. He's way too old for her, but I guess when I was 17 I thought age gaps were hot and relationships between 17/18 year olds and 23 year olds were A-OK lmao.

Tristan is somehow okay with Kady busting into his private space, listens to her problems and quickly agrees to help her to solve the mystery, 'cause he's a kooky guy, he's seen crazier things, and he could use the entertainment. I was obsessed with him. He was the weirdest character I ever wrote, and I eventually got bullied by adult women on some writers forum because I made him too gross and weird and they didn't like it hahaha.

Kady and Tristan try to solve the mystery of the haunted house and come up against dead end after dead end. They find relatives of the former owners of the house, look through old photographs, do a ouija board and Kady has a series of prophetic dreams. Meanwhile she's like "This guy is the worst and also gross!! But he's kinda....??" and he's like "I'm disloyal and selfish and I don't believe in love so don't bother" They have a small falling out over things that go wrong on her 18th birthday and stop speaking.

Anyway then fucked up stuff starts happening in Tristan's apartment and he comes back to Kady to ask her for help. There are things moving around inside his mattress and writing appearing on his walls, including a message that seems to implicate a former owner of the brownstone for murder.

They eventually locate a musty old diary belonging to the woman of the house from the 1920s. She talks about how her husband has been eyeing up the hussy next door, and she is NOT happy about it. It details her discovery that her husband has built a passageway between their homes so he can sneak over in the night and cheat on her. (don't ask me how she never noticed him building the doors or not being in bed with her at night, I didn't think about these kinds of things. It was just the vibe.)

Tristan and Kady do more research (lots of research in this story, they're also aided by Kady being suddenly psychic for no reason) and uncover a death certificate for the hussy next door (Esther). Cause of death - blunt force trauma to the skull lmao.

Kady invites Tristan over for awkward coffee, and he comes in and steps on a creaky floorboard (the same floorboard that creaks in chapter one!! I was planning ahead a bit i guess) she has an idea. She grabs a hammer and yanks up the boards to uncover a mound of old dusty books. Boring! Except one of them *gasp* was in one of Kady's prophetic dreams!!

It is a journal belonging to the murdered woman (who is the ghost, btw) where she is documenting her pregnancy. As an aside, I'm cackling at this line from Tristan when he puts two and two together. “Didn’t Vera say something in her journal about Esther looking kinda fat?”

Thanks for that, insightful king .

They go back to the crawl space that divides their apartments and discover a box of baby things. Then they hear an unholy crash coming from Tristans room. They rush out to discover his things thrown about the place, wardrobe hanging open, clothes everywhere. The ghosts are at it again, boys. But Kady discovers a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. Because she's nosy and has to respect for privacy she opens it and discovers photos of his dead sister. Sad!

Kady and Tristan get another lead that the evil killer woman had ties to Appaloosa Plains. They take a fun road trip, get a motel, and obviously I decided to pull a 'there was only one bed' move because it was the style at the time.

Adorable, inappropriate age gap, power imbalance love <3

(actually there were two beds, but they end up using one to have a deep conversation and almost kiss!)

They talk about their lives but Tristan freezes up because he's deep and he's got wounds! He shuts her out and refuses to talk anymore.

They venture into the country bumpkin capital of the sims world and trace the murder's family home to a building in town that is now a saloon. They ask the owner for information about her, and he has none. Kady admits to Tristan that she was kinda hoping to find a confession to the murder (why would she leave that lying around though? Anyway...) They discover that the murderer (Vera) changed her name, married a wealthy man and scorned her working class country roots.

They go poking around in the backrooms of the saloon and discover stacks and stacks of old newspapers in a cellar, which they write off as useless trash until they discover that they're all the same copy of the same paper from the same day. Somebody bought up every copy in town and hid them away. The search through the papers to discover a report of a missing person in Bridgeport - not Esther, but Vera's husband Henry! Gasp! did she kill him too?

As soon as they mention the word murder Kady spirals into an intense psychic vision and see's a half decomposed, skeletal body emerge from the darkness. Freezing cold suddenly and unable to move or scream, she collapses to the floor in terror.

Anyway, Tristan takes the opportunity to almost kiss her but doesn't because I was building suspense.

Then they randomly find a hole in the floor lol!

Tell me how nobody has seen this in like 80 years!! nobody like, swept the floor? Anyway. Roll with it.

There's a human skeleton hanging out down there and Kady vomits on Tristan's designer sneakers.

Weeks later, long after returning from Appaloosa Plains, Kady sulks in her window and wonders what the fuck she's meant to do about a crusty old murder that happened in like, the 20s. Who is she to solve it? Even Vera is dead so like, what's the point (I'm also wondering this Kady, so hopefully one of us can figure it out) I think she's also not talking to Tristan although this is not clear. She sees him walking across the street and gets sad because he's so sexy and yet so unavailable to her. *sigh*

All of a sudden Kady has ANOTHER psychic vision omg. She sees a little girl ghost appear in her room, a girl who introduces herself as the Esther's daughter! She says she died of the flu or some shit when she was ten and she holds all the answers. "Take my hand' she tells Kady. "I'll show you." Kady does, and they embark...

The ghost girl - Rebecca brings Kady down a mysterious corridor lined with doors, each one of which holds a piece of the puzzle.

Behind one door is Esther's murdered body, and the murder weapon, a humble hammer, lies on the floor next to her feet (look at my editing skills! amaze) she then witnesses Vera coming into the room and cleaning up the crime scene, removing evidence that she did it, hiding the hammer.

Then Kady goes into another room and sees Vera poisoning poor sickly Rebecca's soup for no reason other than she is evil. Kady blacks out AGAIN because apparently she literally cannot stop doing this and I didn't know how else to transition to another scene.

Kady comes to in time to see Tristan coming home from wherever he was (likely spreading STDs around the place tbh) she tries to tell him what she's seen but he doesn't care, he's too busy being damaged and interesting. Oh, he's also drunk. Okay.

He actually does tell her that he's a drug addict here. Okay. He got hooked on cocaine when he was an actor and now he's clean. Not relevant at all to the story I think I'd just found out about cocaine at this point in my life and i wanted to include it.

Kady visits Esther's and Rebecca's graves. She awkwardly speaks to Rebecca and says that she's sorry for what happened to her, but she's figured it all out now. She says that she hopes she can rest in peace now (even though you did nothing, babe, honestly.) She explains that Rebecca's father was murdered in Appaloosa Plains and left to rot in a cellar. She also DIDN'T CALL THE POLICE? Like she found a body and did nothing about it and now the mystery is over. Okay whatever.

Anyway, Tristan is moving back to Lucky Palms to be with his family because he has realised that he mustn't run away from his problems. He waits for Kady in her room (breaking and entering) and she comes home from the graveyard to find him there.

they finally have a big dirty smooch but don't do anything else I swear!!!!

I actually remember readers being annoyed that they didn't fuck, but like, I was a teenage girl who hadn't done anything but kiss yet! There was no way I was going to write about something like that, and I felt guilty for not trying to because so many readers were like "aw! what?? after all that and they're not going to bang??" Like sorry, no. I'm 17 and a virgin you're going to have to go somewhere else, queens xx

Kady and Tristan say goodbye in an airport and he says "I've fallen in love with you, I guess." Nice!

Then she has to leave, but he loudly sings love songs to her until he gets tackled to the floor by security (and possibly arrested? It's not clear)

Kady looks at him and laughs cos he's so wild and crazy. Whadda guy, am I right?

That's it lol. It was actually really really fun to read this story again and relay it, because I don't remember any of it. It was like reading it for the first time with totally fresh eyes. I had so many readers on this thing, like at least 500 which is INSANE to me now. The community was much more alive back then and more people were writing and reading, and like in a way I'm proud of it for what it is. It was a valiant attempt at a novella, and people really did connect with it, so as much as I'm kind of sneering at it (kindly - because it's myself) I have to stand behind it and say yeah! I finished it! And people showed up week after week and read it so that's really cool!

Thanks for sending this question - I don't know if an entire synopsis is what you were asking for, but there it is!

[beanie-beebo]

Oneshot; Cas finds fanfic

Warnings: None

“Alright, so it says here Bakus take on the form of a tiger, elephant, rhino and ox. They devour nightmares whenever children (or probably even adults in this case) say a certain rhyme. But assuming no one around here knows the rhyme, it likely is just feeding on people hoping for good dreams.” Sam said.

“Well, that explains why some of the surviving victims were saying that their nightmares suddenly stopped.” Dean said. “Random question, but do you think the bakus cause the nightmares? Or are people just randomly being plagued by them?” 

“Well, I mean.. Look at us Dean. It’s unlikely we have a Baku on our tails; just dealt a bad card I guess.” Sam said.

“True, true. Though it would be nice to have some nice dreams from time to time.” Dean said with a nod.

“So, what do you think Cas? Find something different? You’re a bit focused over there.” Sam said.

Cas looked up at the mention of his name before looking back to his computer with a dopey look on his face. Dean and Sam looked to each other, arching an eyebrow before looking back to their friend.

“Cas?” Dean asked.

“Hm?” Cas said, unable to pry his eyes away from the computer screen.

“Dude, you’re creeping me out over here. What on Earth are you looking at? And please don’t tell me it’s porn.” Dean said.

“Does porn come in the form of writing?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, it’s called smut actually.” Sam said.

“How the fuck do you even know that?” Dean asked, shaking his head shamefully.

“I mean, I may have peeked,” Sam began.

Dean wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or disgusted; he was sure it would have been rightful to think both.

“Once.” Sam said.

“Oookay..” Dean said.

He walked over to Cas, who had still be mostly unaware of the conversation happening around him. Dean didn’t really want to look, but he was curious himself as to how the angel had come across such a thing when they were supposed to be doing research.

“I thought you were helping us research?” Dean asked.

“I was, but i just came across this. I think it’s endearing.” Cas said.

Endearing? Now he had Dean’s full undivided attention, as he could see no way of smut being... endearing. He peered onto Cas’ screen, which Cas still had not yet looked away from.

“Plus, you remember what I said years ago? About not watching po-” Dean paused upon coming across his name on the screen.

At first he thought it was his eyes playing tricks on him, so he blinked a few times. But his name was still there, right in front of him, on the screen. Then he saw it again, and again. He then noticed Cas’ name was also mentioned a few times. He short-circuited and fumbled with the mouse, closing out the window “accidentally”.

“Cas? What was that?”

“Well, it was what you saw Dean. Someone had written our love out in the form of a short story. It must have been a prophet or something-”

“Wait wait wait, I know what that was.” 

“What?”

“Yeah Dean, what? Now I’m confused.” Sam said.

“Th-those fans, they were writing smut between-” Dean couldn’t make his mouth form words. Instead, he shut the laptop and took it for himself. He began to blush at the tips of his ears, causing Sam to furrow his brows.

“I’m gonna stash this, forever. We will not talk about it, you will not think about it. That’s final.” Dean said, fervently walking into another room with the laptop.

Cas looked at Sam, completely confused by the whole ordeal and why Dean had been so flustered. Sam shrugged and mouthed “later” leaving Cas to wonder.

Later

One thing Dean and Cas had begun to do after a while was share a bed. In short, Dean frequently had night terrors and Cas usually had to travel down a set of hallways before reaching Dean. This was how it started, anyway. After having somebody to sleep next to, Dean found his nightmares to be slowly dwindling away. It was a relief, really. There were a couple of other factors mixed in, but Dean would never tell out of sheer embarrassment and fear of rejection. 

That night however, Cas noticed Dean slept further from him than usual. He wondered if it had anything to do with what was discussed hours earlier.

“Dean.”

No answer; he was met with a firm back and silence. He tried again.

“Sam explained.. everything.. earlier, so you don’t have to. But what I didn’t understand (and neither did he) was why it bothers you so much. I did confess my love to you awhile ago, and you never really gave me a clear answer back. Do you really despise me that much?” Cas said, his voice starting to wobble.

Dean sighed and turned to face Cas, unsure if he was ready to talk about this yet; his feelings. For years, it’s all he knew was to stuff them down and never let them see the light of day. Because God knows how hard it would be to deal with them. But after they had practically killed God, things had changed. He realized he was no longer that monster he always thought he was, he realized that he was different along with everything else. He couldn’t hide his feelings anymore, not really. It didn’t feel right.

“No Cas, I could never hate you. I just.. still have trouble with dealing with all of these emotions is all. You know how I am with that.” Dean admitted.

Cas smiled slightly. “Yeah.. sorry, I forgot about that. If you don’t want to talk about it yet, I understand.”

Thank god for Cas. “I do want to talk about it, I just.. I don’t know how. I don’t know where to start.” Dean said.

“How about we start here?” Cas said. “You already did the work of not stuffing the feelings down, which I consider to be a start.”

“You’re right, heh. You usually are.” Dean said.

Cas lightly kissed Dean on the forehead boldly, even with being unsure how Dean truly felt about him.  Dean was thankful it was dark, since he was sure he was blushing.

“Get some rest and maybe we could talk about it tomorrow, okay?” Cas said.

“Okay; good night Cas.” Dean said.

“Goodnight Dean.”

[another-snape-story]

More in Common Than You Thought

Chapter XX

Nothing remarkable has occurred since that strange incident during the game of Quidditch in the first days of November. Discussion of what had happened died down after a week or so without any constructive conclusion. No one seemed to recall the day when Dark Magic intruded measured life of the Wizarding school ever again. You heartily believed it was just a seeming, and Hogwarts authorities put a careful thought into solving this mystery. The only person who didn’t turn a deaf ear to your concern, the only person who was willing to hear you out, who – same as you – found disregard inappropriate, was Severus. Who in Merlin’s name it might be? Highly responsible and down-to-earth, he kept a watchful eye on one of your colleagues who – you both agreed – behaved oddly. Professor Quirrell.

On top of that, you still couldn’t get over the news you received from your previous employer, and despite of all Snape’s persuasions and convincing arguments that it wasn’t your fault, the thought you might be responsible for the accident popped up in your head every now and then. Snape knew what was weighing over you. He also knew firsthand what it was like being left alone, one on one with nothing but guilt and self-loathing. By no means was he going to let you fall into this destructive abyss of despair. Ready to give you a shoulder every time you were at your lowest, Snape assured you there was nothing worth your nerves and tears.

The two of you were getting closer. You both realized there was no need to know every single detail from your past to understand each other – the essential surfaced in form of little things spoken in relaxed conversations, grain after grain, matching the missing pieces and building a picture of who you actually were.

Snape enjoyed every minute beside you. You filled him with desire to live. Could he ever expect it? Of course, most likely, he was confusing your kindness and friendliness with affection he both craved and feared. For a man who’s never experienced true heartiness, a small gesture of amity might’ve appeared as something bigger than it actually was. Moreover, since causing you pain came across like Snape’s worst nightmare, to keep you unharmed, he convinced himself he had no right to let you too close – he only could destroy lives, and Potter’s son was the living reminder. He got used to sacrificing his life and hope for happiness anyway. Cherishing no pipedreams this cloud-world would last forever, Snape, however, gave in to temptation, too weak to deprive himself of a pleasure to cure his soul by your side even though it was destined to be broken again.

Sullen Potions Professor liked it in your office. Spacious, with high ceilings and nice furnishing, it differed greatly from his own. Variety of plants harmoniously complementing wooden paneling of its walls and numerous bookshelves added vital spirit to the exterior. But it hardly was the setting which made this place so special – the main reason that kept him coming here were certainly you.

The room seemed empty once he stepped inside, but a quick look around sufficed to spot some movement behind the shelving where your place for ‘dirty work’, as you called it, was hidden. Standing with your back turned to the visitor, you surely couldn’t notice him. Headphones on, you smoothly swayed along with the tune, a scalpel in your hand waving jauntily to the rhythm. You easily sank the blade into the carcass of a dissected creature which was now hard to identify and extracted a slimy part of its insides which joined a plenty of a kind in a half-full jar with the same amazingly hideous substance.

Snape leaned against the cupboard – a pawky smirk on his face – marveling the picture. What a wonderful being you were!

“Ahem,” he coughed slightly to catch your attention, but of course, absorbed into the process, you didn’t and couldn’t hear him.

Snape slowly approached you not to scare you too much, although he knew you’d startle either way. The scalpel jolted out of your grip as you flinched, taken aback.

“Never! Never do it again!” with an eye roll, you ripped headphones off.

“How do I do it if you don’t hear me?” he justified himself.

“I don’t know!” you waved your hand. “You’re a wizard after all!” Embarrassed, you felt blood rushing to your face. “Ugh! May I obliviate it from your memory?”

Snape chuckled as he made another step towards you.

“I have so few good moments to recall. Don’t take this one from me,” he smiled softly. “Don’t you mind if I –?” he pointed at the headphones.

You didn’t mind. You knew he wouldn’t report you for using muggle devices, but what happened next struck you dumb. Snape raised the thing to his ear heeding to the sound. The corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek.

“This band helped me through my school years,” he admitted. “The legend of nowadays… That’s a shame we reject everything muggle related – they know how to make really good music.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Never expected you –”

“I’m a half-blood! Of course I do know muggle stuff,” Snape snickered.

Another surprise in a couple of seconds! “I thought you were pure…” you muttered embracing the fact. His life in this House, the House of ‘Elite’, must’ve been a raw deal. Oh, you could tell! You’ve gone through this hell as well.

“Having muggle blood is an advantage,” you stated resolutely. “Those, feeling superior in terms of origin, look so pathetic trying to perceive the purpose of a toaster!”

A laughter rumbled out of Snape’s throat. He couldn’t disagree.

“Tea?” you carelessly shoot your dirty gloves on the working surface and strode past Severus inviting him to make himself comfortable in one of your armchairs.

“Yes, please,” he leisurely followed suit.

“Muggles are cleverer than us, we must admit it,” you served two cups. “They’ve invented so many devices to satisfy their needs of all sorts which we perform with just a wave of a wand. They should be given a credit.”

“Indeed,” Snape watched you with admiration.

“There’s a whole Department in the Ministry that makes monkey work!” you continued vigorously. “Isn’t it better to have an understanding about the world which is so closely intertwined with ours than to ignore it? We could use it for our profit someday!”

“Why wouldn’t you write an article for the Daily Prophet?” Snape reached out for his cup. “I mean it. Many keep this opinion on a tip of a tongue, but have no guts to speak it out.”

“Not sure,” you sighed. “At least not now…”

The way your fingers fidgeted restlessly set the man alert. “What happened?” his face tensed as he fixed his eyes on you.

Denial was pointless. Moreover, you were going to tell him sooner or later – his question just saved you from searching for the right moment. “I’m invited for interrogation.”

The news unsettled him. “When?” Snape frowned.

“Next Saturday.” You lowered your head, regretting one of your biggest mistakes.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No. I mean… yes! Yes, I really do want you to come!” you gave him a weak smile, “but you shouldn’t. Don’t want to drag you into this shit…”

“As you wish,” a little disappointed, Snape agreed with your decision. In situation like this he himself would definitely not want someone to pity him. You had your right for privacy. If you’d feel more comfortable on your own, he wouldn’t insist.

“Thank you, Severus,” you whispered. “Thank you for offering.”

“Everything will be all right,” Snape cheered you up. “If you change your mind, let me know,” he smiled and you nodded. Grateful for his concern, you looked Severus in the eyes. There was something so comforting about his glance, you couldn’t help believing him.

Thin drizzle which damped school grounds since dawn was now growing thicker splattering haphazardly against your windows. Soon the downpour lashed, and through the rain drenches came first long low rumbles of thunder.

“Ah, the storm,” you joyfully shrank into the backrest, while chaos raged outside. As long as Severus was here, you didn’t mind staying in your little shelter like forever.

���I guess, now I’m trapped here,” Snape assumed showing no discontent. He was happy to stick with you until it all ended, now that he had a good excuse.

“More tea?” you chuckled and Snape tossed his cup towards you.

A dim light flickered through the drops lazily sliding down your office windowpane deep in the night. Passing by, one could discern two relaxed silhouettes sitting across each other talking... or maybe sleeping? It made no difference since no one passed by and didn’t see a thing.

<<< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >>>

Tag: @diaryofafan17 @yul-is-sparkling @fullmoonshadowwrites @forthehonourof @amywright @redrehab @space-helen @fluffymadamina nadiigh @theworldisugly-22 @lukaerith-morningstar @sighsinkhuzdul @67-chevy-baby @rustypotatospork @aquila-leo @dandyrua @majusketch @sevyythebeanqueen @writingmi @s00nhi @pinkininja @shizuethedragon @chocolattefrog awkwardaxelotl @bionic-otp @samnblack @sailorstupidsblog @purpledragonturtles @xwaterproofx @lokistann @psycho-howell @planetmystery @lovelyravenkite @taschaschwarz @grimrapper11 @xpissbabyx @lullabylike green-forest-dreams brujaporfavor @severuslovebot moonflower81 @yourbadnightmare @cyber-cry-baby @fandomfrickomg @azzle417 @primavera-allegoria @scarletflavour

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

On assumptions, understanding, belonging and love.

Moments in Martin's journey understanding other people and finally himself.

or

Martin's journey in understanding, accepting and loving his asexuality.

a/n: some quick notes: Jon is sex repulsed, Martin is somewhere between neutral and favorable. While Tim and Sasha dont exactlty say they are aro they are! Jon is non-binary and uses he/they pronouns and i desperatly wanted to explore that but this is already twice as long than intended-

also while I am (half) Bolivian and speak spanish I am not at all fluent in Tamil so if there is any mistakes lmk! hope you all enjoy!

-------------------

Sasha had convinced them to go get drinks together, as it had been a rather stressful couple of weeks since Martin came back from the siege of his apartment by Jane Prentiss.

Sleeping in the archives was not exactly helping the situation for Martin, or Jon for that matter.

So they decided to go to a pub and try to force a sense of normality everyone really needed.

Martin was having a great time, with the relative calm and safety he hadn’t had in a while, even Jon had something like a smile playing on his lips as Tim told a story from one of his university mates that had accidentally thrown his roommate's engagement ring down a drain. 

Martin zoned out for a bit, enjoying the pleasant buzz of the alcohol and his friends laughter and Jon’s animated movements that indicated that he was talking about something he actually found interesting.

 Jon was apparently telling his own story with some relation to engagement, something about a girl at a wedding that had acted strangely, Martin caught something about “purposely spilling wine on her dress”, which Martin agreed was quite wierd. 

“She was totally trying to woo you, Jon.” Sasha said as Jon got to the bit where they had to help her find some clean towels in a storage closet. 

 “I assumed she was just having a rather hard time,” Jon said, seemingly only now thinking of the implications of spilling wine on your dress and then faking needing help, to be fair to Jon that was a very weird tactic to pull and Martin would not have put two and two together either.

“Well what did you do in that closet then?” Tim asked with an incredibly over the top suggestive look. 

Jon pulled a face then, Martin thought it looked rather endearing really with his nose all scrunched up and his eyes narrowed, but he was clearly uneasy. 

“I don’t- I don’t really do… that sort of thing.”

Martin snapped back in the moment, feeling a weird but familiar anxiety in his stomach as the conversation lulled. He felt rather protective for a moment, instinctively knowing this seemed important. This turned out to be rather unnecessary, as Tim spoke up again quickly.

“Oh,” He and then, earnestly, ”I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Jon.” 

And then Jon smiled, properly, like he didn’t often and waved his hand dismissively but pleased.

“Thank you, well it's not like you could have known that, but anyway as I was saying-” 

 It was but a moment, but it stuck with Martin for a bit, mulling it over and not really understanding his own reaction.

 Eventually Martin settled back into the pleasant buzz, enjoying his friends chatter and Jon’s over exaggerated hand gestures.

-

It was an uncharacteristically slow day in the archives, not a worm in sight and Martin had only a bit of boring research to do for a very clearly fake statement.

Martin usually tried to be nice about it but this one featured a guy named “Richard Dickson” and was entirely about a fever dream someone had about a haunted accordion, he had listened to the recording that Jon had emailed him and it sounded like even he was having a very hard time trying not to laugh at it.

“Who comes up with this stuff?” Sasha said as she handed him back the statement. “Sure, I know we are being attacked by a worm woman but I really hope we can draw the line at haunted accordions that play spooky renditions of High School Musical and a prophetic dream guy called Dick Dickson.”

She was laughing too and Martin thought that she looked better than she had in awhile, it was nice, seeing her like this. 

“Well at least I won’t have to stay extra time for the research of this one, I would go home early but.” he shrugged and gestured in a you know the whole staying here cause of a worm woman situation, she gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well I am leaving early, got a very fun evening planned.” she said with a wink.

She had looked really rather excited and somewhat giddy all day, Martin realized. 

“Oh,” Martin said, “Who is the lucky person then?”

Sasha looked at him puzzled for a few seconds, slowly blinking at him, then the penny dropped.

“What? Oh no, I mean- Tim I guess, we usually have a sort of movie night every once in a while, this one is extra special though, because I found this book about the categorisation of demons, it’s partially in latin? Tim said he would help me look into it. ”

Martin felt his face heat up, feeling the urge to profusely apologize, Sasha continued however:

“It’s not like that though,” she said with a rather annoyed look, and then somewhat softer, “I am not really a dating kind of person, you know?”

Martin wasn’t sure he fully understood what she meant, but that was fine and she was clearly still very excited, so he relaxed.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have assumed, I do hope it’s not one of those books Jon goes on about, they aren't exactly...friendly.”

Her eyes lit up once again.

“Oh it's definitely not a Leitner! I do look out for that sort of thing, the interesting thing about the book is though-”

And she went on for a bit, the moment somewhat unimportant in a way but it still churned in Martin’s mind. 

-

Things with Sasha...shifted after the Jane Prentiss attack, everyone had different ways to cope with trauma of course, Martin knew that.

Maybe that was the thing really, while Tim, Jon and Martin himself were having a hard time processing (even if Tim and Jon refused to properly acknowledge it) Sasha seemed fine, a few weeks of being shaken maybe and she was now back to her regular old self. 

She even had a new boyfriend, Martin had no idea why that irked him so much.

He’d said as much to Tim, who was sitting next to him while both slacked off from their jobs on the stairs to the back courtyard of the institute (why there even was a courtyard was one of the great mysteries of this place).

Tim looked uncharacteristically solemn, seldom did he let his walls down like this. 

“I thought I was in love with her you know,” he said rather suddenly, “I mean we’ve been friends for years now and there was- is no one I would rather spend time with, so I mean if not her then- then who?”

He sighed and Martin made comforting noise, trying not to break whatever spell had made Tim genuinely speak about his feelings. 

“I mean I figured out I wasn’t in love with her before this whole...thing, we talked about it, I think? Some stuff is hazy. Just- I shouldn’t be jealous you know? She is allowed to have a boyfriend.”

“Your feelings are valid no matter what they are.” Martin said seriously.

Tim sighed and leaned into Martin, who enveloped him in his arms.

“Sure, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though.” 

And well there wasn’t much Martin could say about that.

After a bit of comfortable hugging silence Tim spoke up.

“Maybe her boyfriend is a vampire though, I totally get to be jealous about a vampire.”

“Tim don’t say that.” he said, trying to hide a smile. 

“What?” Tim said, pretending to be serious, “Everything is possible Martin, worm women and all that, I could obviously not compete with a vampire and their sexy glittering skin.”

Martin shook his head, not able to contain his laughter anymore.

“Can’t believe you are exposing yourself as someone who watched Twilight.” he said.

Tim smiled wickedly up at him from where he was still half cuddled into him.

“The fact that you got that reference exposes you in turn,” he said, sticking his tongue out, “Check mate.”

“Touché.” 

Then Tim stood up and said: 

“Well, Time to go back to our trans containment zone.”

“The fact that we just happen to be trans and were transferred to the archives is a coincidence.”

To that Tim only answered: “Trans-ferred Martin, can’t you see? You cannot call that a coincidence.” winked and back in through the door he went. 

Martin let out an exaggerated long suffering sigh.

Back inside they walked to their respective desks.

“Well lets hope work gets lets shit.” Tim said. “That’s such a low bar, and yet.”

“Paciencia y fé.” Martin said, which was in his repertoire of spanish phrases that just didn’t pack the same punch in english along with “ya pasara” and “digamos que si”.

Tim shrugged.

“Don’t think whatever grandmother made up that phrase could have imagined it being applied to our situation.”

“And yet we still have to hope for it to get better don’t we, see it works.”

Tim flashed him one last smile as he sat at his desk and Martin went to put on the kettle.

-

Martin had assumed Jon’s I-don’t-do-that-sort-of-thing included dating as well and it hadn’t bothered him really, he enjoyed clinging to his crush to Jon like a small steady comfort, even if he knew it wasn’t actually going to amount to anything, there was no harm in day dreaming after all and Martin was perfectly capable of caring about him as a friend too, it was harmless.

Of course the fact that he now knew Jon had been staying at his ex-girlfriends place and the fact that Jon might actually date people didn’t really change anything.

At least that is what Martin tried to tell himself as he shakily poured two cups of tea and mustered the courage to walk to Jon’s office. 

And he was at least a little right, even if Jon dated people, even if Jon would return his feelings (which Martin really did not let himself dwell on), these were particularly unfavourable circumstances to start a relationship, there was the matter that neither of them was able to string together a conversation, because the mundane ones sounded so inane and hollow and the important ones required being genuine and vulnerable and they might just be somewhat allergic to that. 

And there was the matter of the impending apocalypse they had to stop.

Martin knocked on the door and he heard a soft: “Come in, Martin.” from the other side of the door. 

The office was a mess as always and Jon looked like he hadn’t slept in a week and had aged about ten years in the last few months. 

But Martin’s breath caught in his throat anyway because, as was usual for Jon now, he also looked just a little more...comfortable, as you could anyway. They were wearing a hoodie with cats on it that was just slightly too big and a long flowy patterned skirt. 

Jon clearly caught martin staring because he ran his hand through his hair a bit self-consciously and said: “I know it goes against dress code, but I think you get a pass after you get kidnapped by an evil circus.” 

“Oh I mean, you look nice, I mean it looks nice on you. I didn’t mean to uhm, stare?”

“It was- I was just joking.”

“Oh.” 

They just stared at each other, painful silence falling over them. 

Jon broke the silence clearing their throat.

“So... you brought tea?” They said.

“Yeah, it's for you.” Martin said and immediately cringed because who else would he have brought Jon’s favorite chai exactly the way he always takes it.

Jon smiled though, reaching out to take the cup from him. Their hands brushed just a little and Martin's brain briefly shut down and he realised that maybe he should admit to himself he was really hopeless and too far gone.

That is though, how he ended up stupidly staring at Jon’s hands and how he spotted the shiny black ring on the middle finger of his right hand. 

“Thats a nice ring, don’t think I have ever seen you wear jewelry before.” 

That seemed to snap the tension out of the moment a little, Jon looked down at the ring and smiled a little.

“It's an ace ring,” they said, “I used to wear it a lot a while back, not sure why I fell out of the habit, but now I guess I think I am allowed whatever small comfort I can get.”

They were looking at the ring and then at Martin. 

Martin wanted to freeze the image right there, at the small not quite guilty smile Jon had as he looked up at him, at the feeling that things were OK, good even just for a bit.

Then something fell off Jon's desk and they both startled, flinching at the sudden loud noise. 

All the worry and tension flooded back into the room immediately.

“Right.” Jon said. “Did you need anything else?” 

Martin wasn’t sure how to even answer that.

So he just shook his head and started to leave.

Just before he was about to turn around Jon called his name, Martin turned around to face Jon that seemed to be fighting for the words he wanted to say.

“Yes, Jon?”

“Thank you.”

Martin smiled a sad smile.

“Anytime.”

-

It’t not that Martin had never heard the word asexual before, or that he didn’t know Jon was ace, he’d just never dwelled much on the actual meaning of it.

He had however never heard of ace rings before and he gave it a google for curiosity's sake. 

A black ring usually wore on the right middle finger to indicate the wearer is asexual (“ace”). 

It seemed nice to Martin, small token of your connection to a community, of course his curiosity did not end there, he had assumed previously Jon didn’t do relationships at all, and if he did, what did asexual mean then?

He found out rather quickly that asexuality was about sexual attraction, and aromantic was another thing all together, he also found out that asexuality didn’t mean a person couldn't have a libido, or like sex.

And maybe he just stood there staring at his laptop screen for a while knowing that sexual attraction had never really made sense to him, maybe it felt like something clicked.

And so knowing he definitely did not have the time or the emotional energy to deal with it he quickly closed his laptop, he had an apocalypse to stop and a boss to dispose of after all.

-

Martin was trying very hard to read Hija de la fortuna by Isabel Allende, every other sentence he sighed and grabbed his phone to look up a word the meaning of which he didn’t know.

It was frustrating, he once had been almost fluid in spanish as a child, but then his dad had left and his mother wasn’t able to and didn’t want to maintain his fluency. He hadn’t exactly had time or money for classes either and so now he attempted to regain some of it by watching movies and reading books.

It was not just the language of course that made it hard, Martin was so entirely full of worry. It was rare he got to spend a day in his flat these days, usually cooped up in the Institute hiding from something, or at the side of Jon's hospital bed talking to him, reading to him on occasion.

The anxiety, the fear, the pain, it had festered into Martin, the tiniest sounds made him jump and even when he got tiny little moments in which he wanted to, needed to, rest he still felt like a watched prey animal, or the full force of grief threatening to crush him.

Today he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, nothing remarkable had happened in a handful of days and it made him uneasy, he was waiting for Melanie to call him about a new attack, he was waiting for Peter to summon him with a weird cryptic request. 

And you would think that with all this other worry he wouldn’t be fretting about his sexuality.

But apparently there was plenty of anxiety to go around for all the areas in his life and he just couldn’t get that moment, months ago now, out of his head.

He sighed at set the book aside, grabbing his phone and opening google.

He felt like he was 14 again asking his mother what gay meant and getting only a nasty look in return, or 17 and anxiously looking for a book about being trans in the library. 

It was silly to look it up and read articles about how to know you were ace, because he already knew somewhere, but he desperately needed the confirmation.

The third or so blog post he opened was about a woman in her 50’s that had recently figured out she was ace.

Its freeing  the article read it’s freeing to be who you are and to understand yourself better, even if you aren’t sure, its OK, it will be OK.

Martin was only crying a little, he laid down his phone and stared at the wall.

He thought about how he had never quite fit, he wasn’t quite english, not with the people asking him where he had come from or asking his mother as a child where she had gotten him from. He wasn’t Bolivian either, he had never been there, his spanish was limited, he could only cook about three and a half recipes that the internet had taught him.

He had never been a woman and he would never fit what society thought of as a man. And what that exactly meant for his relationships.

He never understood other people, but he never thought he was bad enough to seek help for it.

Sexual attraction was vague and he didn’t get it, but in the few relationships he had had in the past he hadn’t minded sex, he enjoyed watching a nice movie together just as much but there was a nicety to it, especially taking care of someone else, having them unravel infront of you. And he had found it weird that he didn’t want anything back, that he felt uncomfortable sometimes.

He imagined he meant he was wrong, like with everything else Martin Blackwood also couldn’t do that right. 

But maybe there was something here, in Martins corner of human experience, in the small stack of books about Bolivia that he read, in the trans pin on his backpack and patches he sewed onto his clothes, in calling himself gay man even if that didn’t cover the nuances because it felt good, in the chew necklace that hung around his neck because it eased his anxiety.

Just like all of those things, Martin was ace, he wasn’t wrong or broken he was just different and there were all those other people who were different too and it was nice. 

And Martin was crying because of the overwhelming sense of belonging, and because he finally understood Tim when he had once asked “But what does romance even mean, Martin?” and he would never get to tell him, because this is yet another thing he and Jon could have talked about if the world had been kinder to them, this is something he could be talking about to Jon if he wasn’t in a coma.

But even in these miserable circumstances Martin made sense to himself a little more and no one could take that away from him.

-

The past week in the safehouse had been a whirlwind of emotions, but both Jon and Martin were trying, trying hard to heal, to learn how to feel safe again, to love each other.

For all that trying they hadn’t talked about it much, it was hard still, but Martin was quietly holding on to the hope that they would get there.

Today had been quiet, with the biggest setback being that Jon had found it hard to find all the ingredients for the sambar he wanted to make for dinner. 

“I know it won't be like my Pāṭṭi (பாட்டி) taught me, but you would think they would at least have coconut.”

Martin found their grumpiness adorable, reveled in the mundaneness of this worry. And he hadn’t been able to contain his laughter when they finally had found coconut and Jon had held it up triumphantly.

The food had been delicious and now they sat on the couch, it was hard Martin craved touch so dearly but it was like stepping into hot water after standing on ice for a while and Jon flinched so often, not used to not being hurt and sometimes Martin’s unnaturally cold skin brought up unpleasant memories. 

They could have wallowed in guit and yearning, but they were both stubborn, and so even if it took a while and millions of slow movements and asking if something was OK they managed. 

So it was that Jon had his legs draped over Martin's lap, enough to bring comfort, not too much as to be overwhelming, and their hands were lightly on top of eachother.

Jon seemed pensive, but not worried, Martin shot him a questioning glance.

“We went at this in such a sideward way,” Jon said, “I mean we live together now but we haven’t really...talked about it. We never- we never asked?”

There was a beat of silence where Martin just looked at Jon and then a smile spread over Martin's face.

“Jonathan Sims do you want to ask me out?”

Jon averted their gaze in a way that meant even though Martin couldn’t see it they were definitely blushing.

Martin just couldn’t contain his delighted laughter.

“Must you laugh at me,” Jon said, faking offence, he was also smiling now.

A bit of seriousness returned to his voice as he spoke up again.

“I don’t care that we have done it all backwards Martin,” they said, “But, I love you.”

And as he said that Martin stared at him, mouth agape and his heart thundering in his chest, he lost his ability in any language. Jon said it firmly and securely and Martin really didn’t know what he was supposed to do with all the feelings he had, Jon continued however. 

“And we don’t have to do anything but it just feels like we are dancing around several conver- Martin? Are you alright?”

It was only then Martin realised he was crying and he could only ask:

“You love me?” 

Not because he didn’t know, but because sometimes you just need the confirmation.

Jon squeezed his hand gently.

“Of course I do.”

Martin wanted so badly to answer him, to reproach but he couldn’t, not yet, instead he blurted.

“May I kiss you?”

Jon smiled, a tad nervously.

“That's sort of what I wanted to talk about,” they said, “boundaries?”

Martin understood the necessity of such conversations he really did, but it did not mean he was going to enjoy them.

It did come as a surprise however that Jon suddenly got very nervous and said.

“I mean- I just- I am ace, Martin.”

Martin cokced his head in confusion and said:

“Yeah, I know.”

Jon mirrored his confused look.

“You do?” and then more sour, “You listened to the tape?”

And fine Martin admitted to himself, maybe they should talk more.

“No? You told me, like ages ago.”

Jon laughed, relieved, happy.

“Sorry,” he said, “Ironically my memory is foggy. It has been a rough couple of...years.”

Martin hummed something of affirmation, because he also knew this seemed like a nice moment to come out, and he felt the very familiar anxiety in his belly. Idiotic anxiety because Jon was also ace and there were no stakes in this situation at all. 

Maybe it was just the fact that he had never said it aloud.

Martin heard himself speak:

“I think I am too,” and he could hear how stupidly nervous he sounded, “ace, I mean.”

There was a vague ringing in his ear and if he had been in the position to he might have just run out of the room, apparently facing down unknowable monsters didn’t make coming out easier.

His fear was cut down by the fact that Jon was absolutely beaming at him.

“That's great!” they said, “I mean not that I would have minded if- but it is nice to have someone understand, that's all.”

It was, it was amazing to have Jon here smiling up at him holding his hand and understanding him.

“It really is,” Martin said, then gently bringing the back of Jon’s hand to his cheek and leaning into it, “Doesn’t mean we don’t have to talk boundaries though.” 

Jon smiled at the small gesture and then said serious:

“I don’t want to have sex, ever.” 

Martin knew it sounded like people had tried to debate them on it before and it made his chest ache.

“I know,” he answered and then because honesty was key, “I am not adverse to it, but obviously if you don’t want to, we won’t, ever.”

Jon sat up a bit then, lifting his hand from Martins and gently cupping his cheek. Martin's pulse quickened, his hand moving almost automatically to Jon’s arm.

“How do you feel about kissing?” he asked.

“It's nice,” Jon said, smiling a bit cheekily leaning forward,  “So long as it isn’t tongue kissing that is.”

Martin leaned forward until their breaths mingled at their lips where all but touching.

“May I kiss you then?” He asked, breathless.

Jon could only nod and they both leaned forward the last inch.

Time must have stopped for a bit as they kissed, gentle and full of a thousand promises. 

They both moved away from the kiss gently, they were both tearing up a little, Martin felt so much so strongly and he pulled away from Jon completely.

“Just need a moment.” he said and smiled at Jon's reassuringly if a bit shaky. 

“Take all the time you need,” Jon said and then softer, “Anything you need.”

And Martin was sure he had never loved anyone more. 

-

On the fourth day of their third week in Scotland Jon had gone to run some errands in town and had come back with an incredibly nervous air about him they were sitting across from Martin at the table twirling their hair and checking his pocket every once in a while.

It was making Martin incredibly antsy and by the third time Jon had looked like he wanted to say something only to then go back to the crossword he was definitely making no progress on Martin had had enough.

“Sol mio,” Martin said, very much enjoying Jon’s wide eyed flustered he always got when Martin called him pet names. “Will you please tell me what is wrong.”

Jon looked at him sheepishly.

“There is not something wrong, per se.”

Martin gave him a look.

Jon sighed and stood up, grabbing a small box from his pocket. 

“Nothing is wrong I just… bought something for you beloved.”

Martin very nearly had a heart attack when Jon opened the box and there was a ring inside. Upon closer inspection it was a beautiful black ring and Martin understood. 

There was silence as Martin could do no more but stare at the ring and then at Jon.

“I see how a ring might come over as a gift now,” Jon rambled nervously, “it is not like that- I mean that is something we will have to talk about. I was afraid it would be too much? It is engraved too and I just hope I didn’t-”

Martin cut him off: “Jon let me see it properly.” 

Jon handed him the ring.

Martin lifted the ring out of the box and saw the engraving on it.

 நான் உன்னைக் காதலிக்கிறேன். I love you. Te amo.

Martin promptly sat down again, it was so sappy, just a tad ridiculous and stupidly cute. It hurt in his chest and tears stung in his eyes.

“How did you know I wanted one?” he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Jon rubbed the back of his neck self consciously and said:

“You were talking a few days ago, about how you would like something like a- like a token, to remind you and I thought an ace ring might be nice.” 

They lifted their right hand.

“We match now.” 

Martin silently moved to put the ring on, it fit perfectly. He ran his fingers over the tiny groves of the words on it. 

An anchor. 

A small reminder that he belonged, here in the world, here with Jon. 

Martin stood up and gently enveloped Jon in a hug.

“Thank you,” he murmured into Jons hair as he placed a small kiss on top of their crown. “It’s perfect.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This has nothing to do with the story I just want to say I believe in Bi!Fred Weasley supremacy -Danny

Words: 2,621 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: This kiss -By Faith Hill

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Unwanted Attention.

Their little trip to the kitchens ended up in a bad note when they found Winky drunk in butterbeer and Hermione broke, yelling to all the house-elves about their rights. 

Least to say they were unpleased. They kicked them out, Ron was so angry at Hermione for ruining his chances at getting more free food that they didn't stop bickering for the rest of the day.

Normally, Mel and Harry would've complained and roll their eyes, but considering this as a huge opportunity to finally spend time alone, they left the angry pair in the common room and went to the Owlery, where they sent a package filled with wonderful food to Sirius.

They stayed there for a while, leaning on the windowsill and talking. Closer to each other as the night started to fall.

"I wish things were a little bit different," Mel said wistfully. "I would take you on pretty dates, not caring about useless rumours..."

"I don't want dates, I only care about being with you," Harry shrugged, playing with her fingers. "Everything else doesn't really matter... unless it does to you?"

"Not really...  I'd love to have a quieter time in school, but that's impossible when you're here," She teased. "You bring nothing but trouble, Potter."

"You like it, though," He smirked. "At least a bit, if you've stuck around for so long, I doubt it annoys you that much..."

"What d'you want me to say?" She scrunched up her nose, knowing the question would only make him even keener to tease.

"I'd love to hear that you like me," He replied boldly. "Don't you like me?"

She caught his hand playfully and stroked the back of it, humming to herself.

"Do you?" She finally questioned.

"I like myself plenty," Mel slapped his arm playfully and he laughed. "I fancy you a lot."

"You know," She looked away. "I really like this weather."

She fixed her eyes on Hagrid digging outside his cabin, perhaps planting something.

"I like you," Harry beamed, his hand closing around hers. "I also like to say that I like you, feels good to admit it."

"Been dreaming about this for a while, have you?" Mel smiled, still not looking at him. She was trying to keep her composure, even though the air felt charged and it was getting harder to breathe.

"You haven't?"

Madame Maxime got out of her carriage and walked to Hagrid, seemingly trying to start a conversation.

"Not at all," She said absently. Harry stiffened beside her and she giggled.

"You're funny..." He pouted. Unexpectedly, he reached for her waist with his free arm and pulled her closer. "Really, you crack me up."

Hagrid responded to whatever the woman was saying but he didn't talk much. In the end, the woman walked back to her carriage looking defeated.

"I think Madame Maxime regrets what she did to Hagrid," She said. Harry, who'd been half-looking at the scene as well as shamelessly flirting with her, nodded with very little interest.

"Guess she realized how stupid it's to worry about what others think..."

"Isn't that kind of the same to what we're doing?" Mel frowned.

"What d'you mean?"

"We're hiding from all of our loved ones. We care about what others think."

Harry came out of his daze then, blinking in confusion.

"This is different. We're not hiding because we're afraid, we do it 'cause we know Skeeter would bring it out of context."

"Okay then, why do we hide it from Ron and Hermione?"

"Well," Harry looked away. "I don't know..."

"We know they'd be happy for us..."

"Yeah."

"Then why do we hide it?"

"We don't want to ruin it," Harry shrugged. "You know what I mean, I won't try to explain it."

She smiled at how easy it was to talk to Harry now that they knew about their feelings.

"You know, sometimes you can be clever..."

He scoffed, shaking his head in amusement.

"Look at you, all cute and frustrated," She cupped his face with her free hand and squeezed his cheek lovingly.

"Quiet, Mellow."

However, before she could decide whether or not to be quiet, Harry leaned further and kissed her.

Mel wasn't expecting to see any reaction from her classmates when the article about Hermione and Harry's relationship spread around school. Few people believed it, but the most they would do was stare, wondering how come Harry was so comfortable around her despise his 'heartbreak'.

She knew –because Erick told her– that most people were confused, they'd thought that Harry and Mel were the ones dating. Now that those rumours had been killed by the article and none of the people involved were interested in clearing things out, the interest has worn out, most students moved on; Harry and Mel were being less watched, which gave opportunities to sneak away from prying eyes more often. However, they completely forgot that it wasn't only the Hogwarts students receiving these articles and reading them in their spare time. On Monday morning, they got a very unpleasant surprise.

Hermione mentioned a subscription to the Daily Prophet and was waiting to get it when an owl came down to their table.

"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry when four other owls landed next to the one.

"What on earth—?" Hermione took one of the envelopes. Mel took another and examined it. "Oh really!" Her friend scoffed.

"What's up?" said Ron.

"It's — oh how ridiculous —"

She handed the letter to Harry, it was a bunch of letters from a newspaper cut out and rearranged messily:

'You are a WickEd giRL. HarRy PotTER desErves BeTteR. GO back wherE you cAMe from mUGgle.'

"They're all like it! 'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' Ouch!" A liquid with a strong smell came out of the last letter she'd opened and poured over the girl's hands.

"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" Ron winced.

"Ow!" Hermione teared up, trying to clean up her own hands.

"Don't spread it!" Mel stopped her, she took Hermione's arm and helped her up.

"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry, looking at her in concern. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."

Mel made an attempt to follow her but Hermione mumbled 'Get rid of the rest', before hurrying out of the Great Hall.

"I warned her! I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Look at this one..." Ron picked one up and read in horror.  "'I read in Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself."

"Who do they think they are?" Mel asked in anger. "Feeling entitled to attack a fourteen-year-old without knowing the whole story!"  

When they were heading to Care of Magical Creatures, Pansy talked from a few feet away:

"Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"

"She found out your brain's beyond repair and that just broke her," Mel spat, pulling her friends forward.

They studied nifflers for Hagrid's class, made a funny little competition out of it, which Ron surprisingly won. However, for some reason that didn't please him. Hermione got back at the end of the class with her hands completely bandaged and informed Hagrid about her misfortune.

"Aaah, don' worry," Hagrid replied softly. "I got some o' those letters an' all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou' me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake.'.. Yeah, they're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."

Ron was unusually quiet, frowning at the prize he'd won in Hagrid's class (a chocolate bar from Honeydukes).

"What's the matter? Wrong flavour?" Harry asked gently.

"No... Why didn't you tell me about the gold?"

"What gold?"

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup. The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

Harry and Mel shared a look before they finally remembered what was he talking about.

"Oh! I dunno... I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"

"Must be nice," Ron said quietly. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."

"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night," Harry replied sternly. "We all did, remember?"

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," He said with embarrassment. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" Harry insisted.

Ron stared intently at the food of his plate and mumbled, "I hate being poor. It's rubbish. I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

"You're not poor," Mel patted his hand lovingly. "Not in the ways that matter– look at Malfoy, he has all that money and he's always in a terrible mood. He's got terrible friends as well."

"Yeah, but it wouldn't hurt if I could buy new things for once, would it?" He pouted.

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," Hermione tried to lighten the mood. "Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus? I hate that Skeeter woman! I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

With the arrival of Hermione's hate mail also came a new wave of interest for Harry's love life, which meant they had to go back to the stage of walking on their tiptoes to avoid any unwanted attention, and it was driving them mad.

Hermione grew obsessed with finding out how Skeeter was getting all the information, Harry suggested that maybe she'd put microphones around the school but Hermione quickly brushed it away, reminding them about how that sort of Muggle technology was of no use around school.

The teachers were handing them more and more work as the end of the year started to inch closer. Mel and Dumbledore finally moved on from wandless spells to tracing hidden magic and she was doing splendidly well, mostly because she wanted to get everything done so they could start with her animagus studies.

The last days of May, Harry and Mel were in the library discussing Percy's letter while searching for some books for her lessons. Ron didn't want to join them and Hermione was busy with her research, so they found themselves in the bliss of another moment for the two of them only.

"Percy's in denial, he's too fond of his new position," Mel commented as she reached for a book in a higher shelf. "He's a pain, too young to be given all that power..."

"I thought you admired Percy," Harry replied.

"I appreciated his dedication while he was in school but I this is getting out of hand, something tells me he's not apt for the job."

"I reckon he strongly disagrees," Harry took the books as Mel handed the lot to him.

"Well, we're as close to figuring that out as we are to finish our assignments. I can't wait to be back home next month!" She tried to take the books from Harry's hands, but he refused to let go. "Just imagine– Glasses, knock it off! I'm capable of carrying my books!– As I was saying... picture us with all the time in the world to do whatever we want..."

"We could go to the movies!" Harry offered. "I have no muggle money, but maybe Emily could take us to Gringotts so I can exchange a few galleons..."

"I like the sound of that, we're old enough to do so," She happily walked up to the table on the corner.

"Been dreaming about it, have you?" Harry teased. She left the books on the table and stopped.

"What I've been dreaming of," Mel said carefully, "is for the tournament to end. I feel like I'll only be able to rest once it's over."

"I haven't been terrible in it, have I?" He tilted his head.

"You know I don't mean that," She lifted a hand and pushed some strands of hair away from his eyes. He sighed shortly, leaning into her hand instinctively.

"Just one more task," Harry said quietly. "Then it'll be over."

She nodded in silence, that wasn't the only thing she was thinking. Mel was hoping for the moment when they would finally be together in peace, without articles and journalists nagging around... Mel moved her hand from his cheek to the back of his neck and, catching him off guard, kissed him.

This one, though still innocent and short, conveyed all the emotions she was feeling. A loud thud startled them and caused her to bump noses with Harry. She heard him grunt as she held onto her own nose, tearing up a bit.

"My apologies!" A voice came from behind. "Did I take you by surprise? Well, I dare say you're not the only ones..."

"Not you," Mel groaned. "Why, of all the people that could've found us it ended up being you..."

"It's a gift," Erick smiled with no hints of shame, sitting down at the table they were planning to take. "It gives me the opportunity to eavesdrop a bit, and Merlin, it's always worth it."

"You can't tell anyone!" She hissed, finally letting go of her nose. "Not even Hermione!"

His eyes widened in wild interest. "Why, is this the first time that happens?" He looked at Harry. "Well, it certainly didn't look like it. Most of us think you're almost married. What is it?"

Mel felt so stupid, caught red-handed after all their efforts...

"You know what Skeeter would do with the information, now more than ever," She grumbled.

"That doesn't sound fun, does it?" Erick inquired, she'd never seen him so ecstatic.

"Just keep your mouth shut, will you?" Harry spat, his voice came out muffled since he was covering his mouth. Mel was about to scold him when Erick let out a hearthy laugh.

"Never been one to gossip– I'm happy for you though, it's been exasperating, flirting with Mel without her noticing to get a response from you. I had to hold back from getting involved so often!"

"That was you holding back?" Mel scoffed. "Can't imagine what unrestrained would look like... What are you doing here?"

"This is a library," He replied with a grin. "Believe it or not, I study without you."

"Okay then, study."

"I'm about to, this is my table."

"I don't see your name on it–"

"We can share it–"

"Not after what you just saw, I won't tolerate your teasing," Mel blushed furiously, picking up her books. "We'll go back to the tower, Harry, c'mon..."

"Be my guest," Erick half-bowed from his seat.

"You're enjoying this too much," She glared at him.

"Haven't even reached the I-told-you-so phase, you've seen nothing," He retorted. "Take your girlfriend before she sets the library on fire, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes at the pair. He wasn't going to admit it, especially not in front of Flint, but he'd felt a pleasant boost of energy at the word girlfriend.

"Come on, Mel..." He nodded at the boy. "I hope to never meet you like this again, Flint. Bye."

"Have a good night, lovebirds."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[noire-pandora]

Letters

Another prompt from this list. Also on my AO3

Words: 2419

Warnings: none

A few of the letters Inquisitor Elluin Lavellan exchanged with her adoptive mother and her adoptive brother.

Mama,

This is the moment when you can say “I told you so”. I got in trouble. Big trouble. Have you heard about that explosion at the Conclave? Where the Templars and the mages were supposed to make peace? (like that could ever happen). Well, it seems I am the cause of it, or at least that’s what they think.

And no, before you ask me if my magic finally went nuts, it wasn’t my fire magic but a type of magic I never met until now. It got stuck to my left hand, and it’s slowly spreading in my body and only one annoying elf can understand it and keep me alive. He’s getting on my nerves and I wish I could tell him to fuck off but I might die if I do that, so here I am, stuck with an elf I can’t stand. The irony in that, huh? There are other humans here that get on my nerves, but I try to be as respectful as I can. They can kill me so easily. My only salvation is the Mark (that’s how they call it) on my hand.

Besides that, the humans are calling me the “Herald of Andraste” because I physically walked in the Fade and I have been saved by a woman. They believe it was Andraste. And I can’t remember anything. I walked in the Fade, outside a dream and I don’t remember it!! It makes me so furious! I can’t believe my mind betrayed me. It never did that!

Anyway, if you hear the humans talk about a Herald, they are talking about me. No, I don’t like it.

I’ve lost my sketchbook in the Fade. I cried for an entire hour when I realised that.

Are you well? How is everyone doing? How are they baby hallas? Have they started kicking everyone around?

With love,

Elluin.

P.S: I’m in Haven. It’s so cold in here, my bones hurt at night.

---------

Lethallan,

My instincts never failed me. Since the last time we have met, my dreams warned me about your fate every night. A vast shadow looms above you, one shaped in the form of a wolf. My dear child, this is a bad omen. Fen’Harel is testing and tricking you. Please open your eyes for any sign of his presence. The explosion at the Conclave might be his doing.

My dear, since childhood, you had a knack for trouble and your curiosity hurt you many times. I beg of you, do not get distracted. Do not forget our teachings. It worries me you do not understand this magic hurting you. Pay attention to the elf who understands it. He might know more than he shows.

The Herald of Andraste? I do not know if I should cry or laugh at this. They truly have no idea who they are giving this title to. You barely believe in our gods, the gods you were raised with, and they expect you to believe in their human prophet ? The gods have  a peculiar sense of humour. Or the humans are truly disparate.

My daughter, I do not understand what fate you have brought upon yourself, but the appearance of this hole in the sky is worrying. I wish you were not trapped in the middle of it. Stay safe, my sweet child.

I will send you two blankets made with halla’s hair. They should keep you warm at night.

The hallas are growing. They still do not know how to kick, but I imagine they will learn soon.

The soldier you have sent with this letter is becoming nervous to be in the middle of a Dalish Clan and the children are terrifying him with their curiosity. I will stop now before the poor man starts running frightened.

P.S.: This is a prayer I offer to you, child. Keep it in your thoughts every day.

“May the Dread Wolf never catch my scent,

May the Dread Wolf never hear my step,

May the Dread Wolf never feel my breath

May the Dread Wolf never steal my soul.”

----------

Mother,

Thank you for your kind words. But not all that takes place in this harsh world is the fault of the gods. Sometimes, the greed and hate of the mortals are sufficient. And please give that prayer to someone that needs it. I am no one; I am irrelevant. Usually gods like interesting people.

Thank you for the blankets! They smell and feel like home. I can sleep much better like that.

You worry too much. We already have a solution for closing the Breach (that’s how we call the hole in the sky) and in a few months, it will be done. I will come back to you after we close it. This ordeal made me realise how much I miss you. I can’t wait to be scolded by you. It’s going to be even better than your delicious food.

Please say hello to everyone in the clan and tell them I miss them.

All the care and love from your rebellious daughter, Elluin.

------------

Mother,

I guess the words of Haven’s destruction reached you. We survived it. I survived it. Barely. It was terrifying. I got lost and drifted in the snow for three days. I almost died. I don’t remember how I made it to my friends. All I can remember is the cold gnawing at my bones and the trail of blood behind me.

I am sorry it took me so much time to send this letter. I have been busy because now I own a castle! A castle, mother! I never had my room and now I have a castle! We call it Skyhold. It’s a wonderful place, but it needs a lot of repairs and I have to make certain all goes well. Many people joined the Inquisition and I am taking my time to meet every one of them.

Oh, I almost forgot. They made me the Inquisitor. A mage, the head of an organization who formerly hunted down mages. This world is going mad.

Remember that annoying elf I told you about? He saved my life, again. This is the third time he does that, and I don’t know how to thank him anymore. And I’m in love with him. I don’t know what to do with all those new feelings. I shouldn’t fall in love in times of war. But here I am, doing the stuff I am not supposed to do again. I don’t need more complications in my life right now. But my dumb heart races every time I see him because of his kindness and his intelligence. You should see him rant about anything. He will talk and talk and talk for minutes at a time, and I can’t stop listening to him. He’s wonderful.

Please don’t let Alaion about this love part. I will never hear the end of it next time I see him.

I love you, and I wish you were here to give me advice. But the clan needs you more. Please stay safe and don’t let anyone hurt you.

Send all my love to the others too.

Inquisitor Elluin.

---------------

My child,

I wish I could have seen you at Wycome. I understand why you had to remain at Skyhold, but I do miss you. I have told the Commander to send you our thanks with this letter. I do not know what we would have done without his help. He is quite the dashing young man, and he seems to have a deep respect for you.

We are well. A few of us are terrified to be close to humans, but I find this situation a perfect moment to teach the children that humans can be good too. Not only mean and dangerous as those who tried to murder us.

I apologize for the problems we have caused. I should have known people will try to hurt you by getting to us. We will be more careful from now on. After all, my wonderful daughter is the head of an important organisation now. I am proud of you, even if I would have liked to see you in a safer position.

About the previous letter. Alaion read it first. I thought he would die of laughter. He is coming to Skyhold in a few weeks. He wants to write a few words in this letter to you.

El!!!! I can’t believe it. You’re in LOVE! I can’t wait to see his face. I asked the man you sent to help us, and he had no idea you’re in love. But he said his name is Solas. Really, sister? You’re in love with a man who calls himself PRIDE? Actually, that’s not surprising, we’re talking about you. You always had peculiar tastes. I bet he’s a stuck up elf who is so boring, he makes flowers fall asleep. I can’t wait to meet him. He must have something special if he made you fall in love.

We miss you, sister!

--------------

Mother,

Alaion arrived at Skyhold in one piece.You should have seen his face when he saw Skyhold from up close. I thought he swallowed his tongue; he didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I think he might be jealous, but I wish he wasn’t. He’s the leader of his clan, and that’s much better than being here, surrounded by people I can barely understand.

Somehow, I ended up confusing my feelings to the man I love. And, to my surprise, he feels the same. It took me a bit to persuade him, but it seems we are together now. This is going to be interesting. But I am happy, he seems happy, so I guess that’s good.

Alaion was a pain in my butt, always nagging and teasing Solas. And Solas tried to be polite because he knows I care about Alaion a lot. Solas has a sharp tongue and if it wasn’t for me, he would have destroyed Alaion with his wits. But instead, he sighed and gave me a pained look every time my brother opened his mouth.

But I had a wonderful time with my brother. I am glad he likes Skyhold. Having him here gave me the strength to carry on. And he told me he thinks Solas is the best match for me, even if he has a pole stuck deep into his arse. My brother never disappoints, does he?

We are getting close to defeating Corypheus. Just a few more months and I can be done with this mess. I want to come home for a while. Rest a bit. I will invite Solas to join me. He needs to spend a bit of time with a peaceful Dalish clan and learn not everyone is there to get him.

I gave my brother a few packages with food for the Clan. Please give the sweets to the children. I’m sure they are going to love them. I have a present for you. I hope you’ll like it.

I love you, mother.

Elluin Lavellan.

-----------

Elluin,

The knitted scarf is perfect. I can see your knitting skills have improved quite a lot. I am proud of you.

Alaion talked for an entire hour about you, Skyhold, your friends and your lover. He had to stop before losing his voice. He is fascinated by your work and I believe he would have joined you if not his duty to his People. Everyone here is amazed to know you are a great leader. But I am not. Since you were a child, I knew you could move people with your words and actions. This was the reason why I asked you to be the leader of this clan. I truly wish you remained here to lead us, but it seems fate had bigger plans for you. You are the only one who can save the world. And I am proud of you.

You can come back to us at any time. We love you and we miss you. And you can bring your man, too. I am quite curious myself. His mind must be as sharp as a knife if he amazed you with his intelligence.

Fate be in your favour, my child, may the gods offer you their blessings. I will pray for your safety at night.

Mythal enansal.

-----------

Mother,

It’s done. We have won. We defeated the monster. Corypheus is dead. It was a terrible fight; it drained all of us, but we killed him. Finally, after two years of fighting for the safety world, I am done. I am so proud of my friends. They helped me get through it, without them I’d be dead.

I can’t come back just yet. There are a lot of things I need to do. A lot of stuff needs fixing. They still need a leader. Thedas is a mess right now, and it won’t get better if I leave. Now it’s time to help my People. To use my position and power to make things easier for the Elvhen. I helped the mages. Now it’s time for us to grow.

It might take a while until I will be able to do it, but I will. I promise.

I hope you are well. Please tell me if you need anything. I will send my soldiers to help you, no matter what. I love you.

P.S : he left. Without a word. I think I wasn’t good enough. But it is how it is.

------------

My dear,

I knew you would save the world. I am proud of you. You fulfilled your destiny. The world is safe now, and I know you will change and make it a much better place to live in. For everyone.

He left? Your lover? Do you know why? How peculiar. Alaion told me you two looked very in love and he could not keep his eyes off you. Are you sure you are all right? I know you do not like to speak about your feelings, but you said you loved him. I find it impossible to forget your first love that fast. I am here for you, my child. No matter what.

You are not alone in this, Elluin.

----------

Mother,

Forgive me.

Forgive me, mother, you were right.

They are real. The gods, they are real.

And Fen’Harel came. And he stole my heart and my soul.

I don’t know what to do. I am lost. Help me.

[mychemicalxmen]

Unfinished Business

hey so I find crt’s recent interactions with the tua fandom to be sus as hell and it got me thinking about the most plausible way I could see him comin back in s3 and the conclusion I came to is a way-shorter and way-simpler version of whatever the hell this is so uhhhh here

2.9k, klave/klave-adjacent

... ... ...

“Is this really a good idea?”

Allison’s words are gentle as she stands in the doorway of Klaus’s room. Well, not his room, per se, but the grey-walled, undecorated space that would’ve been his bedroom in a timeline gone by. The Sparrow Academy doesn’t seem to be a huge fan of homey-ness. They’d ever-so-kindly granted the Umbrellas two nights’ stay in these cold cells while they gathered their bearings and prepared to face the new world they’d fantastically screwed up.

Klaus smiles at her question. “That’s hardly stopped me before, right?”

Allison rolls her eyes and drops her hands onto her hips. “I’m worried about you, okay?”

“Don’t be,” Klaus answers with a swatting gesture. “It’s been easy-peasy since I’ve dropped the pills. Parlor tricks. Did this song and dance tons of times for Madame.”

“Also, we need to unpack your relationship to ‘Madame’ at your earliest convenience.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow mischievously. “What happens in Dallas...!”

Allison sighs. “Okay, well, if things start to get, y’know, mega-spooky panic-time, you’ll just yell, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

“Hey.” Allison’s voice is suddenly calmer. Klaus’s gaze snaps up to meet hers. “You’re sure about this?”

Klaus lets himself breathe for a moment. Tension fights to seize his limbs. He’s really about to do it.

His first six months of sobriety were the absolute nightmare that he knew they would be. They were all the sleepless nights, trembling hands, emotional eruptions, and torturous visions that he’d predicted.

But at some point, his powers became less like a stubborn faucet, run by an on/off switch with not much in between. With time (and Ben’s encouragement), he’d come to better understand his link to the other side. He’d learned how to cut and re-engage the connection at will, how to find faces in the crowd, how to call one forth, and how to sleep peacefully.

Most nights.

“I’m sure,” he says solidly.

He checks himself over, tugging his brightly striped shirt into place, tucking in his dog tag, and running a hand through the hair he’d half-considered chopping off the second he made it home. When he looks back up at Allison, he‘s feeling a bit less brave. “Do I look alright?”

Allison nods with a little grin. “You look great.” God, he wishes they’d reconnected far before this Dallas fiasco. She just cares so much. “Good luck,” she says.

“Love you, sis.” He blows her a lazy kiss as she leaves and closes the door behind her.

He paces around the room, steeling himself for the process. Like he said, it’s no big deal. Easy peasy. Even with that hiccup with alcohol, he’s clean enough to pull it off. He shakes out the last of his nerves with a couple tiny hops before settling in the middle of the room.

He stands firmly, feet apart, and drops his head. He squeezes his fists and lets the energy start to crackle between his fingers.

With all the insanity of this timeline, he needs to know what happened in 1968. He needs to see Dave.

It’s tougher to contact someone not already in the room. He focuses everything he has, and the energy pulses faster and stronger. Come on, come on…

“Klaus?”

He looks up with a start.

There he is, standing four feet in front of him. Those torn-up fatigues. Those searching blue eyes. That curly mess of blonde hair he hasn’t seen for three years.

Dave.

Klaus can’t keep the dumb smile off of his face.

“Hey there, soldier,” he practically whispers.

“Hey yourself,” Dave says - happy, though clearly disoriented. “Guess you weren’t making up all that ‘future’ junk after all.”

Klaus’s affirmative laugh is airy. But when his eyes trail down to the cavity in Dave’s chest, his heart aches in regret.

His jaw aches too. What a week it’s been.

“I have... so much to ask you,” Dave goes on. “It’s been a long time.”

Klaus swallows. Here goes. The million dollar question.

“Uh… How long of a time, exactly?”

He unconsciously holds his breath.

Dave glances to the side. “...Right around when JFK was shot. Must’ve been ‘63?”

Klaus exhales and sits on the bed, face blank.

Dave is wincing at his own memories. “God, I was such a dumb kid, I’m so sorry that you—”

Klaus isn’t hearing him. He’s too caught up on that number. 63.

If the Umbrella Academy doesn’t exist, Klaus Hargreeves doesn’t grow up in the same home as Five Hargreeves. He doesn’t get kidnapped by assassins. He doesn’t get his hands on a briefcase. He doesn’t go to Vietnam.

If the Umbrella Academy doesn’t exist, neither does the Dave that fell in love with him.

His Dave is gone. Really gone. 

This Dave was the timid hardware store employee he’d tried to get through to, striving to save his life and instead locking in his fate a few days early. This Dave is still the same person as the other one was. Same upbringing, same interests, same compassion, same smile, same violent death. But...

“—a strange time for anyone. You know how it is.”

Klaus tunes back in to Dave apologizing for his cringey adolescence. “No, no, yeah, I get it, don’t worry about it.”

In the pause that follows, Klaus feels his throat tighten and hot tears threaten to drop down his face.

Within the same pause, Klaus realizes the obvious. Dave is a ghost.

Kiddos and grandmas, or anyone who’s achieved either nothing or everything that their life had to offer them, they get the window to move on right away. One-way ticket to the Great Beyond, or the next life, or whatever the hell it is. Ultimate FastPass, Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect $200. Klaus has learned that spirits don’t tend to stick around on earth unless they have unfinished business. Sometimes they don’t even know what they need to do to start fresh, and that’s always the worst. Those souls become the bitterest, the loudest, the most tortured. Those were the ones who gave him hell in the mausoleum, with question after question that he couldn’t even begin to answer.

Dave seems to have managed okay. Probably spends a lot of time watching over his friends, his sisters, his neighbor’s cat. Klaus wonders what he could possibly have left to do.

“Major case of unfinished business you got there, huh?” Klaus asks. “Been waiting around, what, fifty years?”

Dave squints. “Well, it’s hard to feel it. Time works a little funny over here.”

“Right, of course it does,” Klaus recalls stupidly. He sniffles and swipes a hand under his eye as nonchalantly as he can. “Ah. Any idea what the little brat is waiting for you to do?”

Dave gives a tentative chuckle. “Brat?”

“Oh, Big G, the almighty, you know,” Klaus clarifies. “The bitch on the bike. I met Her once or twice. We’re not too chummy.”

Dave shows startlement, then shakes his head, acknowledging that this information should hardly faze him at this point. “Um. Yeah. Don’t know what She wants yet. Though She’s actually a cowgirl for me.”

“Of course She is.” 

And that’s the idiotic comment that causes Klaus’s voice to crack.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Dave asks. He hazards a few steps closer.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“No... Nothing,” Klaus stammers. He briefly covers his face and lets out a groan. “Ughhh, it’s going to sound crazy.”

“Really think you can beat ‘Time-Traveling Cult Leader with Prophetic Dog Tags and Tidings of Death’?”

“It wasn’t a cult,” Klaus mumbles in futility. He drops his hands and gives it his best shot. “The first time I met you - first time I met Dave - was in a totally different timeline, in 1968. That’s how I knew all that stuff about you. And you died the same way, except I was there the first time. The other time. The same time?”

“You and ...’Other Dave’.... fought together,” Dave offers.

“Yes!” Klaus confirms, relieved that he’s making sense. “Yeah, exactly. Which is why I tried to stop him - you - from going.” He indicates Dave’s abdomen. “And, obviously, I failed. But because of some stuff my family screwed up along the way, you never fought with me, so I remember a lot more than you do, and it’s all just...” He gestures helplessly. “A real kick in the dick.”

Dave tilts his head in a mix of sympathy and confusion. “That... does sound pretty crap.”

Klaus doesn’t expect it when Dave sits next to him on his bed.

“You want to tell me what I missed?”

“Oh, no, no, no, Dave, you don’t want that. That’s a long story.”

Dave shrugs. “I’ve got some time to kill.”

Klaus manages a smile. Talking will keep him from crying.

He tries his best to tell everything chronologically, but almost every step of the beginning requires some Hargreeves Family Lore that he reluctantly recaps as efficiently as possible. Dave is an exceptional listener. Always has been. He lets Klaus ramble on and on and asks little questions now and again to get a clearer picture. Klaus appreciates Dave’s effort to form a coherent narrative out of the scattered snapshots that time has left him with.

Klaus stumbles with pronouns. He makes a point to refer to His Dave with “him” as opposed to “you”, but he can’t help but slip a few times in the middle. Dave seems to understand.

Klaus tells him about the day they met. He waters down the Time Police part of the tale and focuses on what came after. Dropping into the tent at dawn. The casual conversation on the bus. The strange instinct that he got to stick around for a few days.

He tells him about soldiering. He tells Dave how focused and respected he looked on the battlefield. But he also tells him how kind he was to new recruits.

He tells him about their first R&R together in Saigon. He tells him about the vibrant bar and the strangest music and the secluded back hallway.

He tells him about the nights in the jungle they’d stayed up and dreamed up plans for when they’d go home together. He tells him about the day those plans fell apart. When Klaus runs out of story to tell, he just stops. Dave looks at him thoughtfully. Klaus can only imagine what must be running through his head. He knows it’s not judgement, or embarrassment, or anger, or loathing. Dave is too sweet for any of that.

Dave is too good for the rotten fortune that found him, time and time again.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus says.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t save him,” Klaus answers. He fumbles again. “You. Him? Young Dave?”

“I’m getting a headache keeping track of it myself,” Dave admits.

“You,” Klaus settles on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Dave looks into him for a breath. Then, he reaches out and touches his arm. Klaus wants to dissolve into dust.

“I think I understand why I loved you,” Dave says.

A bittersweet laugh tumbles ungracefully from Klaus’s mouth. He tries not to draw attention to the new round of tears that spills over with it. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do.” Dave gives him the gentlest smile. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You tried so hard. I could’ve had more courage, fought back, ran away, something, but I just... wasn’t ready.” He glances down. “And I wasn’t going to be.”

Klaus’s hand closes over Dave’s on his arm.

“But I always remembered you,” Dave adds. “I always thought you were brave.”

“Goddamn, I was convinced I’d pushed your Big Awakening back a good two months, at least.”

“Far from,” Dave assures. His eyes crinkle with the flash of a memory. “I’m... not sure if I should tell you this.”

Klaus cocked his head. “Well, shit, Davey, now you have to.”

“I’m assuming Other Me told you something about Bill, right? Met in junior year, moved to Austin after school, always a bit of suspicion there...”

“Yeah?”

Dave’s face reddens slightly. “I mean, it wasn’t anything serious, but there were a few weeks when I was home, before this last tour...”

Klaus’s eyes widen. This was not an event on his timeline. He mocks outrage and pushes Dave’s hand away. “David Joseph Katz—!”

“The point is,” Dave poorly stifles a laugh, “I had hope. That it was gonna be alright, and that after this round, I’d be back in America for good, and I’d find my place.”

Hope.

Klaus supposes hope is nice. It’s just not terribly helpful with the way things panned out. In the world where Dave still didn’t make it home. In the world where he’s stuck here, waiting for a way to move on. In the world where he’s still around to see how little good that hope did him. And frustration starts to churn Klaus’s stomach, even though he knows...

“...This really wasn’t your fault,” Dave says, reading him just as perfectly as he could in ‘68.

Klaus hadn’t noticed how long he’d fallen silent for. “I know,” he mumbles, and logically, he does. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. There had to be a timeline out there where everything ended up alright, where him and Dave lived happily together just like they’d talked about, but he is never going to find it now.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “And I still love him. Christ, he made one of the deadliest shitshows in American history the only place I wanted to be. He made me the happiest that I’ve been in a long, long time. He made me feel so treasured. So... strong.”

When the tears return a third time, he stops trying to hide them. He carelessly wipes the heel of his palm across his cheek.

“I wanted to tell him all that,” he finishes. “He gave me something so special that I don’t think I’ll get again.”

A sob escapes Klaus. Dave patiently waits for him to work it out.

“I know I’m not him,” Dave starts, “But for what it’s worth, I think he’d know you still love him. I think it’d destroy him to be apart from you. But I don’t think he’d want you to destroy yourself.”

Klaus knows the spiel that’s coming, and so badly does he want to dismiss it all as disgusting cliche. But he also knows Dave’s sappy tendencies well enough to know that, in this case, it’s probably accurate. Hell, he’s hearing it from the man himself.

“If you couldn’t get back to him, I think he’d just want to know you were happy,” Dave says. “You know? That you kept moving and kept taking care of yourself. And kept looking for the kind of love you deserve.”

Dave shifts to face him more directly. His eyes are bright with intention. “You have so much life left in you. You deserve a new chapter.”

Klaus feels beaten and weary all over. His mind is finally slowing down to the present.

When Dave subtly opens up his arms, he eagerly takes the offer to wrap him in an embrace.

This is the last he’ll see of him. He can feel it. He tucks his chin over Dave’s shoulder and clings onto the fabric of his vest, eyes shut, trying to commit every sensation to memory.

Dave returns, lightly weaving his hand into Klaus’s hair. Klaus recalls with a weak grin that he knew Dave would be fond of the new length.

It’s safe and sacred and almost everything that he’d planned for on that day he’d desperately wandered the mansion halls, calling out for any help he could get, twisting a bundle of rope in his quaking hands.

He hears a whisper of a wind chime.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Dave mutters.

The blue glow pierces through Klaus’s eyelids. He pulls back to look at Dave.

He’s crumbling apart, piece by piece, and drifting away. Bright light speckles the entire room.

“Klaus?” Dave asks. His voice is soft but threaded with slight fear. “Is this...?”

“Yeah, it is,” he answers. He tightens his grip on Dave’s arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me say goodbye.”

A beat passes. Then, understanding washes over Dave’s face. He pulls Klaus close once again, stroking his hair.

He presses a kiss onto Klaus’s forehead.

Klaus doesn’t watch him go. He only opens his eyes when his arms are at last empty.

Specks of glittering blue light still float through the air. Nothing else remains but the wrinkle on the bedspread where he was sitting. Klaus’s face still feels warm where his lips were placed just moments ago.

Klaus buries his head in his hands. “Allison,” He calls out. The sound is pathetic. He clears his throat and tries again. “Allie?”

He hears her heeled boots click down the hall. He can’t bring himself to look up when she opens the door. “You okay?”

“It’s over,” he summarizes.

“What do you need?”

A joint. A fist full of pills. Five shots of tequila. A good sock in the head so he can go back to that pre-Technicolor hellscape and tell that bitch on the bike what he really thinks of Her.

“Can you just sit with me for a minute, please?”

Allison closes the door and obliges.

They talk, slowly and softly, about absolutely nothing at all, while Allison smooths her hand against Klaus’s back. They stare at the cold tile floors together for a long time. Klaus asks if it would kill the Sparrows to hire an interior decorator.

[maggiewrites]

team starkid's “black friday” musical

feel free to edit where necessary!

"Don't be scared!"

"His belly is so squishy!"

"He's all that you wanted! He's all that you needed!"

"Do the wiggle!"

"Doors open at 7am,"

"Lose your mind!"

"Drop dead!"

"How many times are they gonna play that ad?"

"Relax, it's just a toy,"

"Cabbagepatch Kids were just toys, and there were RIOTS over those things. Literal riots."

"Well, we're here. So you can get off your soapbox,"

"I mean, he is an asshole."

"Hey, everything's going to be okay, okay?"

"Who are you?"

"Well, we haven't put a label on it yet!"

"But we are intimate."

"That stuff is for little kids!"

"I do not get flashbacks, I remember bad things vividly."

"I didn't do for you."

"I don't have a drill press, and even if I did, how would it fit into the sedan?"

"This kid deserves one fucking thing that he asked for."

"Even now it's a dream. the kind that makes you question reality."

"Someone's gotta pay for it."

"I couldn't hold him still enough to teach him guitar."

"I hit replay on that night, over and over again 'til it gives up the fight. But there's no end - there's no end - there's no ending in sight."

"What have I done?"

"I don't say it enough. I'm scared you blame me. I'm scared you blame me for your luck."

"I'll give up both of my arms to get you on track."

"All I need is getting you walking towards the paradise you dream."

"Excuse me, you think it's okay for me to park here?"

"I was hardly valedictorian."

"How does it feel to be a role model?"

"You know, I could. But that would be violating company policy, and everyone's telling me I should be more responsible lately, so I'm gonna go with them on this one."

"These little friend-o's are gonna take you so far into the black, that you ain't never coming back."

"You are gonna make a killing!"

"You'd think that a drop-out with a record would be thankful to have a job."

"See, she CAN be taught!"

"We'll see who's laughing by the end of the day!"

"Where's my sister!?"

"Do I have to put a leash on you, like a dog, or my cousin Oliver-"

"Is today a good day or a bad day?"

"Oh great. Now we gotta talk to the imaginary spider from outer space."

"Bad blood. Crossed. Black and white."

"Can you translate? I don't speak crazy."

"Don't you fucking laugh."

"Cross my heart. Hope to die."

"I'd make a great dad, I'm just saying."

"Seven fucking thousand!"

"My mom's a bitch!"

"It beats being broke."

"That's not how cameras work, babe."

"We're missing in action!"

"Get yourself a new trailer. 'Cause this one is broke. as. shit!"

"Let's go, I need a cigarette."

"I did not cut, I bought my place in line!"

"That's called a bribe, and it's illegal...Or it should be."

"I hope you don't get a toy. I hope you fucking die."

"Well, my children were accidents. You don't see me pushing my problems onto anyone else."

"Not that ra ra school spirit cheerleader bullshit that you never grew out of."

"Did you think your neighbours didn't notice you wearing sunglasses on cloudy days? Turtlenecks in the summer? Well, they knew what was happening, they just didn't care."

"What do you say when you love each other? What do you say when years have past?"

"Just skip to the fucking!"

"Nah, I'm shopping for myself, I like dolls... I'm just kidding. I don't like dolls. Least not, like that."

"We're not liable for anyone who dies."

"You should be ashamed of yourself, you disgusting little pervert."

"It's mine! It's mine! It's certainly mine!"

"You never should settle for a lifetime that is handed to you. There's always a line to be cut and someone to barrel through."

"Let go! Do you have a death wish?"

"This is not the type of place you can haggle."

"Don't do it. Two doors, not one."

"Bad place. Black and white."

"Look, I know you're nervous to leave home. But you gotta trust me. It's gonna be so much better for you out of there."

"He's got a knife!"

"No, I'm not frightened! I'm annoyed!"

"Oh, I don't know if you wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna fuck with me."

"And you - you are the most special person here."

"You keep looking for it in the arms of other men, or the smiles of your ungrateful little brats. But you have been cruelly denied it."

"That's the kind of bullshit you feed to your therapist or your life coach."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Back off or I will send a laser guided ballistic missel to your house in Denver, and you will be scrapping what's left of your kids off the fucking pavement."

"I will bite your nipple off."

"That was a joke, sir."

"Behind the veil of the universe you perceive, are entities both ageless and foul. And these eldritch forces are rising. There's a creature at work here, one with designs on humanity far worse than any nightmare we can comprehend."

"There are monsters and there are men."

"When the clock strikes three, see you at the rink!"

"-the fuck I am watching?"

"Maybe he crawled for help."

"You've got to forgive yourself, 'cause if you don't, how is anyone gonna forgive me?"

"You look just the same as I always remember."

"Take me back in time to love you."

"You don't look the same at all as I remember. The light has left your eyes."

"If you asked me, I'd still go to prom with you."

"Hold me closer than before."

"Tell me something Santa would know."

"This is the best movie ever!"

"Bet you didn't guess that the lord of despair would be so cute and cuddly, did ya!"

"That's heavy."

"You want to send me to the fucking Twilight Zone!? To have a sit-down with the devil? Fuck that, fuck that, that's all folks!"

"We're trying to stop the birth of a god."

"If we have faith, we will be rewarded with a cuddly toy."

"Kill them! Fucking kill them!"

"I dislike that word. 'Cult'. No, it's a new exciting religion that I started."

"I've met God. He had nothing nice to say about you."

"I demand your love and worship too."

"I will destroy everything, and then I will destroy everything."

"I'm in the black and white now. It's just like California, it never rains."

"I swear on my own grave."

"You're being a rotten little banana. I'm going to have to peel you. I'm going to split you in two. I'm going to eat you."

"We don't get tricked. We're grown ups."

"You don't scream at a child, it frightens them. You lure them in delicately. And you put them to sleep."

"I'm sorry, babe. No dice."

"The poor get poorer, and the rich, well, they keep getting richer."

"I can't be evil, I'm a status quo democrat."

"It happened on your watch, your time is running out."

"There's something that's beautiful, being awake for my funeral."

"Is there some lesson to learn? Should I even have wanted?"

"Only my ashes will see the sea."

"I'm authorizing you to use my firearm."

"Look me in the eye, and make a solemn vow to become your best self now."

"Gather your forces. There's a warrior of light trapped in deep sleep. Wake the warrior, kill the prophet, save the world."

"I hope they didn't tow my car."

"Kids don't want that thing. They're all into Fortnite now."

"Everyone's dying, and that includes me too."

"I failed you once, and I will fail you again."

"You're not that cute, in fact, you're real fucking ugly."

"Wake up! Belittled you isn't as fun if you're not upset."

"You've been outfoxed by a fucking moron."

"Oh, the plans he has you and me, me more favourably."

"Do you see what I see?"

"Tomorrow will come."

"Tomorrow won't come."

[lognecro]

I’m getting job training at Bonehaven learning center

I’m typing this on my phone because I don’t have a computer, but i’m hoping to get one in the next month. Anyways, my name is Logan, and I had no direction in life. I was born on March 22, 2003, so i’ll be 18 in about a month. I have a few interesting things about me that might be important for this blog. I am autistic, I suffer from several mental disorders that cause psychosis, anger issues, and in general destructive behavior. I dropped out of high school midway through junior year, and have been through the process of getting my ged while holding down a job at a grocery store.

I don’t know when but my parents found out about a program called Job Corps, and I filled out an application. I’ll be going to the Bonehaven center in Oregon, where I will be trained in SAPS(Security and protective services). This should be happening in the next few months, but since right now my life is doing pretty poorly social wise, I thought writing a journal might help. I don’t like being trapped in my own bubble though, so i’m doing a blog. Instead of screaming my thoughts onto paper, i’ll be doing it into the void that is the internet.

My hobbies include reading and writing, listening to music, and practicing bass(I’m not very good at it). I’m hoping in the future though to write my own music, or at least perform in a band. My main dream is to become a ghost and monster hunter though, traveling the United States checking out hotspots of folklore and supernatural activity. Sadly I have to focus on reality, and that’s why I am doing SAPS with Job Corps, I’m not an idiot but i’m not the smartest guy either, and despite me having a bit of a weight issue, when i’m working out regularly I have body builder muscles and i’m absolutely swol.

Right now me and my friends are going through a rough patch, I spend too much money and time on my friend Ivy, while I barely spend time with Jenny. It doesn’t help that they hate each other and refuse to be in the same room together. Ivy is super needy and texts me every day to hang out, which makes me irritable most of the time so I usually lie and say I’m working because I need my alone time. Jenny never texts me and I rarely see her cause she lives a couple towns over, and I don’t have my license yet so I always have to ask for a ride.

I’m hoping to get my license soon, but with this pandemic, it’s been nearly impossible to get an appointment set up. I have this old convertible Chrysler that my grandma gave me, it needs a new battery and hood, and before I take it in to get fixed, I have to scrub the inside down with bleach because of all the mold. It’s a really nice car though and I hope to have it running in a couple months. I have a bit of an energy drink addiction and right now I’m in love with these zero calorie, 300 mg caffeine drinks. I get the new red dragon flavor and it’s just a really good and smooth fruit punch flavor.

At my job, I’m the closing parcel, so i’m the guy pushing carts and cleaning the restrooms, though I refuse to clean the womens restroom after I had done my whole *knock knock* “HOUSEKEEPING, ANYBODY INSIDE?!?!?” routine, and nobody answered, so I walked in and in the first stall, a woman was...having some fun I guess, awkward thing was she stared me in the eyes and only did it more furiously, so I just don’t go in there anymore. My bosses are generally very pleasant and easy to work with, except for Big Bitch and Little Bitch, who I will not say their names as to not reference their names.

Big Bitch has no idea how to manage people, and has a thick accent that makes it very hard to understand him. He’s the one that tells me to go vacuum the front lobby when the cart bays are over flowing and people are complaining. Little Bitch has absolutely no empathy or awareness of his surroundings, he generally wanders off to go talk to customers or check his phone, while he lets the assistant manager do all the hard work of managing the front end. The assistant managers are the people I can actually respect, because they’re real people instead of an annoying character that only exists to make my day harder.

In general I don’t have to do much most days, and take long breaks because people often don’t use carts or make massive messes, you’d think they would but it’s only happen a couple times in the year i’ve worked here. At home I live in a repurposed bathroom, where the sink, bathtub, and toilet had all been removed and paved over to turn the room into an exceptionally large storage room, where I have a twin sized bed, a tv, and an xbox that I never play. Often at night, I can hear my parents having sex over my music because the walls are so thin. Getting drunk or high helps, but most days I just turn the tv up high or listen to music via my headphones.

I’m going to be switching to a flip phone, because I want to stop using social media as often, and I just think they’re cool. I love old tech. I’m making the switch after I get a laptop, so that i’ll still have a way to update this blog. Anyways I’ve, recently been getting into the occult, mainly to explain my prophetic dreams that are either random events that i’m going to experience or end of the world scenarios that happen in other universes. My mom had the ability to see and conjure the dead, and my brothers inherited that ability, but I didn’t. While i’m sensitive to the supernatural, I can’t perceive what’s around me, only what’s in my head

I initially thought it was some sort of schizophrenia the voices in my head, but even after taking anti psychotics and getting monthly injections, they never went away. I never told anybody though, because I don’t want to go to a hospital again. I’ve been trying to categorize and place the voices, but they’re not the same every time, and they’re not talking to me. They’re just talking, it’s like eavesdropping on a conversation that doesn’t exist, but yet some how, the information I hear is usually about the people around me, some random stuff, and me. I’m currently in the small break room, with an ear bud in my right ear and two conversations going on to my left.

One is my coworkers talking to each other, and the other one is a man talking to a woman, I don’t really know what it’s about but a few snippets are “Yeah I piss in the milk, they can’t tell though. I’ve managed to open a door, gonna try to do that again soon. I made about 3 kids cry again, honestly if I could I’d make a career out of it”

Just random things like that, in general though the conversation seems to be about somebody named and I don’t know how this is spelt so this is a guess, “Hephitus” I have no idea who that is, but it seems like they’re talking about a person. I hear this name every now and then, but they dropped this name a few times and in general it’s them just verbally shitting on him/her, pretty much what I do when i’m talking about somebody. I typically ignore these convos but right now i’m bored, so I got nothing better to do. I have to go back to work now though, so Imma go. I’m going to try posting daily, so let me know what you think. This has been Logan or LogNecro, and this is my blog

[percabeth4life]

Three Old Ladies Knit Socks of Death

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || AO3

I’m really glad that I have a clue as to what happened, even if the constant buzzing surrounding everyone is driving me nuts.

Someone cast a spell of some sort to trick everyone into thinking that Ms. Dodds never existed. The buzzing kept trying to affect me, but it couldn’t get me through my Purifying powers.

Thank Pontus for those.

But the buzzing is very, very, very, annoying.

One important thing I noticed was that Grover didn’t have any buzzing around him, which means that he is fully aware of Ms. Dodds. That and the fact that he’s a horrible liar.

Mr. Brunner’s buzzing didn’t lower at all, but nor did it raise.

I think he’s the source of the buzzing honestly, still not sure if he’s safe. He hasn’t asked for the pen that’s a sword that’s a pen back.

But everyone is denying that Ms. Dodds exists.

…

I may or may not be using it as practice for my purification powers.

…

It seems like a good idea (and keeps my mind off of…)

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Okay so one person had to go to the nurses office cause I managed to get rid of the buzzing around her with my purifying powers, and whoops…

Apparently, mortals can’t handle that.

Everyone is saying she had a psychotic break yelling about a Ms. Dodds and how she definitely exists…

So, I’ve decided that I should not test my purification powers on helpless mortals.

Katara would be ashamed of me for testing my powers like that.

I’ve also decided to rewatch Avatar: The Last Airbender for the twenty-fourth time.

Don’t judge me, it’s a great show and my teacher for waterbending!

And maybe I’ll see more about healing with waterbending, I can’t remember all the details and I need a way to learn without hurting myself first.

Purification is still cooler, but healing will definitely be helpful in the future. Besides, it’s practically a signature move for Katara, the whole world would’ve ended in the show if it weren’t for her healing abilities.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Carl was excited for my experiments with the water holder, I was messing with some ice and ignoring the growing sense of doom that was coming as exams got closer.

Triton would be disappointed in me for not paying attention to my lessons now, but I can’t help it.

It’s so hard to focus when you’re trying not to focus on the fact that you killed someone, sure she was a fury, but she had feelings and stuff too.

I shook my head, nope nope nope, not thinking about that right now.

Work on the magic portable ice fish tank.

I sighed, fiddling with the ice to twist it into the right shape.

I’ll need to add the runes-

“Percy!”

I made the ice shatter into a thousand tiny pieces and melt and nearly fell off the bed.

…

“You okay man?”

I nodded, pushing myself up and pretending like my face wasn’t on fire.

“I’m fine.”

“What were you doing anyways?”

Uh…

“I was trying to do a palm reading on my hands.” Nailed it.

“Baa-ha-ha, you do palm readings?”

“No, but I thought I’d give it a shot. I was trying to see if I could pass my exams.”

“If you study you might,” Grover bleated out.

I sniffed, raising my nose and hiding a smile, “Studying is for the weak!” I declared grandly.

Grover laughed.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar view, fields with misty figures as far as the eye could see.

I frowned.

Where am I?

I wandered forward, waving a hand in the face of one of the figures. They didn’t react.

Yep definitely a dream.

Now I just have to figure out where I am.

I probably should’ve gotten around to reading up on prophetic dreaming like probably dad Oceanus mentioned one of those times I was there, but I got distracted.

I wandered the fields, looking around in confusion, this place was very unfamiliar.

Except, a feeling of familiarity clung to me from one direction, so I started that way.

It felt like a low burn edging my senses, I’m not sure where I felt it before, I don’t really remember this feeling.

The sound of leathery wings made me look up, my eyes widening at the three figures.

Hades’s furies.

I suddenly realized where I was.

The itch of a curse made me want to scratch my arms. But looking up, Ms. Dodds, one of the furies, is alive.

It was like I could breathe for the first time in weeks.

I didn’t just kill someone who could think and breathe and feel like us.

I almost felt like sitting down right there, I let out a breath and held back the tears.

Thank Pontus.

I woke up

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I practiced my Ocarina more, sitting next to some of the plants Grover has and settling the music book in front of me to try one of the basic tricks. Growing plants.

Technically it’s supposed to be done with coral and sea grass and other undersea plants, but I don’t have those. So, I just have to make due with the plants that Grover has.

Grover came in while I was mid-song, but I ignored him, the plant seems a bit brighter, just a little taller.

I smiled, it’s going alright.

Not as much as it should be, but it’s certainly improving.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

School was itching at my nerves. The constant buzzing was driving me up a wall and I was snapping quicker at people instead of doing it the smart way like Triton taught me.

I watched more Avatar and tried to resist the urge to break something.

I have no outlet, I can’t go practice my waterbending, I can’t talk to Triton, I only have Carl who just plain doesn’t understand.

School studies are getting harder and harder for me to do.

I could handle Pre-Calc thanks to all of Triton’s help in the past, and Latin wasn’t that hard either (why is every language but English easier? Should I try learning Spanish or French?), but otherwise… I kind of just gave up.

The buzzing stayed in the back of my head.

I threw myself into my books from Triton, devouring the information on Siren’s Song that I had been ignoring so far.

I practiced my Ocarina and paid attention to my clubs again some. Triton said they were good for me.

The buzzing filled the rooms when there was even a moment of silence.

I ended up kicked out of Model UN because of my lowering grades but music club had pity on me.

I practiced more.

The buzzing didn’t stop.

I snapped at a teacher one time too many, I’m not welcome back at the school next year.

What an underwhelming way to get kicked out this time.

The buzzing was unrelenting.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I’m really glad for my starglobe. I’ve just been sitting here staring at it for the last hour.

Grover keeps giving me weird looks, but… It’s just sparkly and pretty and reminds me of Triton. It reminds me of the sea that one time my mom let me “sleepover” at a friends house. I got to see the stars from the sea and it was amazing.

“Did you know your eyes change colors?”

I looked up at Grover.

“What?”

“Well, they’re normally this sharp green, like, sea green, but you’re looking at your sparkly snowglobe and your eyes just turn like, silver-gray?”

I blinked, “Do they?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s cool.”

“Hmm, I guess I get it from my mom, her’s do the same thing.”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

It was the night before my Latin exam.

As much as I don’t trust Mr. Brunner, I just couldn’t figure out this one translation, and I lost the answer key.

Ugh.

I decided to go ask him, at least he would know I was trying. As long as he didn’t like, try to kill me or something, it’d be fine!

…

Hopefully I didn’t just jinx myself.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I was almost to the door to his office, but something was off.

I stopped, realization hitting.

The buzzing was quiet.

I was almost to his door, where the buzzing is usually very loud, and there was nothing.

I frowned, was he not there? But the light is on?

The door was ajar slightly, and I stepped closer, as quiet as I can be.

“… worried about Percy, sir.”

I stopped, tilting my head. That was Grover.

My heart sank, so I was right, he is working with Mr. Brunner.

“… alone this summer?” Grover questioned, “I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-“

“We would only make matters worse by rushing him,” Mr. Brunner interrupted, “We need the boy to mature more.”

“But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-“

“Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can.”

“Sir he saw her…”

“His imagination,” Mr. Brunner insisted. “The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that. He may still have the pen, but the Mist over it will stop him from realizing.”

“Sir, I… I can’t fail in my duties again.” Grover’s voice was choked with emotion. “You know what that would mean.”

“You haven’t failed, Grover,” Mr. Brunner soothed. “I should have seen her for what she was. Now let’s just worry about keeping Percy-“

I shifted back, a small creak of my rubber shoe bottom on the linoleum floors echoes through the halls.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

I slipped back, seeing a shadow of something larger than Mr. Brunner in a wheelchair pass the lighted glass. It was holding an archer’s bow.

I moved, sliding into the first door I could find and pressed against the wall by the door.

I could fight if I needed too, my trident charm in hand, but… I need time to process.

A shadow went past, clop-clop-clop passing by. Like muffled hoof beats.

A large shadow paused by the window.

Mr. Brunner spoke, “Nothing, my nerves haven’t been right since the winter solstice.”

“Mine neither,” Grover said. “But I could have sworn…”

“Go back to the dorm,” Mr. Brunner told him. “You’ve got a long day of exams tomorrow.”

“Don’t remind me.”

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner’s office.

I waited there, going through what I just learned.

They’re worried about me, whether about my health of something else to do with me…

The buzzing is probably this Mist that he talked about, I’m not sure what that is, a spell of some kind I suppose. When I can talk to Triton again I’ll ask. Maybe it’s a land magic?

Mr. Brunner, whoever he is, has no idea that I know about gods and mythical beings and the like. I can use that to my advantage if he is actually a threat.

They know about the winter solstice mess, all I know is that there’s been a theft.

I frowned, are they blaming me too? And what’s this about a summer solstice deadline? That sounds bad.

Why do they need me to mature more? What do they need to worry about keeping me from? What’s going on?

One thing I’m sure of, Mr. Brunner is definitely not human. Some human animal crossover based on the sounds I heard. Horse half? Centaur? That’s the best I’ve got right now. I’ll look into it more later.

I stood in the dark waiting.

Grover is working with him though.

My chest hurt, could I trust Grover? Was he just going to attack me? Try to hurt me?

I want Triton, I want Triton so badly. He would know what to do.

But I can’t. Triton said not to contact him until things calmed down.

Based on Grover and Mr. Brunner, things are definitely not calm.

I stood in the dark.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I returned to my room when I calmed, nodding to Grover and settling back down with my notes.

“Hey,” He said, bleary-eyed. “You gonna be ready for this test?”

I glanced over, trying to bury any emotions, Triton had said that Grover might have empathic abilities and I can’t let him know what I’m feeling.

I forced a smile, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I faked a yawn, “I think I’m gonna go to bed now though. Too tired to get much more done.”

And I am tired, I’m so tired of being here.

I just want to go home, see my mom, hug her, talk to Triton.

I want to be back in the still dirty (but much improved) river and cleaning it and talking to the fish and other sea animals.

I want to go to events with Triton and talk to my merfolk friends and trade notes on our powers.

I don’t want to be here wondering if my friend is going to betray me and attack me. I don’t want to wonder if my teacher is going to try to hurt me.

I just want home.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Honestly, I fell asleep trying not to cry, so when I woke up in my probable dad’s palace, hidden in an alcove, I kinda burst into tears.

It’s like my dreams are trying to comfort me.

I curled up and cried, this year sucks.

Everything first semester was bad, but since the solstice I’ve been so alone.

Everything aches I just want to see Triton, to talk to my friends, to not be so utterly alone.

I can’t trust Grover, I can’t trust Mr. Brunner, I certainly can’t trust any of the other students in the school.

“Oh dear…”

Soothing curls wrapped around me, banishing the cold currents that felt so like my probable dad’s palace.

A hand was on my back, I couldn’t really see through the tears though.

“Hush now little Half-Blood, it’s alright.”

I took a few minutes to calm my breathing, to stop the tears, the unknown person whispering soothing words the whole time.

When I could finally look at them, I finally saw the Titaness Tethys.

…

Oh no, don’t tell me I just cried like an idiot in front of my probable dad’s wife.

I want to curl up and die, why me.

She settled next to me in the alcove, her hand still rubbing my back, “Are you feeling better?”

I swallowed, nodding.

“Yes Tethys-ran” I whispered.

Using the proper terms of respect are important. Ran is for queen, which she is, Ari would be for king.

She smiled at me, “There, that’s better. Let’s get you something to eat hmm?”

I nodded, letting her tug me out of the alcove.

“We still have only caught the beginning of your name little half-blood, starts with a P right?”

I flushed, “It’s Percy, Tethys-ran.”

“Ah, then a pleasure to meet you Percy-tou”

I flushed, tou is used for children regardless of gender, it’s basically calling them cute little one.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you to, Tethys-ran.”

She led me to the kitchens it seems. There’s a lot of noise as they work on making the food.

Her hand was still on my back, it was grounding.

“Do you have any favorites?”

She was looking at me.

“Oh uh, I like water chestnuts? And uh frozen Plumose? Um…”

She smiled, “Any meats?”

“… tuna?”

She nodded, nudging me forward as she spoke rapid Halmaheran.

“Get something -- him to eat, something on the --- end. And something -- snack on. And some --- if you --.”

I couldn’t catch everything that she said, unfortunately, but I’m pleased I caught as much as I did. She was talking really fast and had an accent I don’t know.

It took only a few minutes before she was ushering me out, a few bowls of food in her hands.

I ended up sitting with her in another alcove, nibbling on the snacks she got me. And sucking clean water from one of the plants, usually used for that purpose. Not like you can have cups with drinks underwater.

She let us eat quietly, her gaze on me.

I glanced at her, then looked away again.

“You seem to find yourself in our palace fairly often Percy-tou.”

I shifted, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why.”

She hummed, “It’s no fault of yours, though you should learn how to control your dream walking.”

I frowned, “Dream walking?”

She smiled, “That’s what this particular branch of prophetic dreaming is called, though the technical name is Hioipihaiho.”

I frowned, Halmaheran.

“You mind effectively leaves your body and travels to another place. It is different from Ahioimua, which is looking into the future of the place you are, Imuaireira, which is seeing the future or other places, Ahiomuri, which is seeing the past of your current location, and Amuritereira, seeing the past of another place.”

I wished I had my notebook to take notes.

“Dream walking is simply traveling, it’s the most common form of prophetic dreaming in Half-Bloods. None of them technically require dreaming, though it is the easiest way to receive the visions of the other forms.”

Okay that’s interesting, so I could do this awake… How would that work?

“Though slipping through the shields of our palace to prevent entrance from those trying to come is impressive. I’m very curious as to how you’ve done so accidentally.”

I chewed on one of the nuts in my snack bowl, “I don’t know, I just started showing up here.”

She nodded, “Well, it’s certainly interesting.”

It must be because Oceanus is my dad? Is this more evidence towards that? I have a lot of really solid evidence now.

I kinda want to say that I know, but I promised Triton I wouldn’t ask or talk about my immortal parent. It would interfere with my safety.

So, I kept my mouth shut and resisted the urge to tell her.

“What had you so upset? When you first arrived?”

I nibbled on one of the tuna pieces, “I uh… Just had a stressful week.”

I ducked my head.

“Oh? Anything in particular?”

“I have a lot of big tests, and found out a friend isn’t actually a friend…”

She hummed, “A sad thing to learn.”

“Yeah…”

She ran a hand through my hair, I peeked up.

She smiled, “Friends come and go like the tides, it is good to learn from your time with them, and they will leave a mark on you. But don’t let them hold you back or cling to what has passed. If they are not your friend accept that and move forward, else you will drown.”

I relaxed, she’s not wrong. Grover was apparently not really trying to be my friend, he was spying on me?

Regardless of what he was doing, I just have to accept it.

It hurts, but… it would be better for me to move on.

I nodded, “Thanks.”

“Well, I believe it is time for you to wake. I’ve already held you here longer than you should’ve been.”

She gathered our bowls and flicked away.

Almost immediately I felt the yank at me. Like a strong current tugging me away.

“Stay safe Percy-tou.”

Oh.

I woke up.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

I finished the Latin exam.

I know that I messed up like half the grammar, but the translation to English wasn’t too hard, I could use context for some of the grammar, and I’m good at the word definitions so that was easy at least. The few history questions were annoying, but I didn’t struggle too badly.

The buzzing in my ear made it hard to focus though.

I think I managed a C? Maybe even a B if my guessing for the grammar was good enough.

I’ll just have to wait and see I guess.

I started to head out when Mr. Brunner called me back.

I swallowed back my fear that he found out about me overhearing him last night, he wouldn’t call me out for that in front of the class.

“Percy,” he said. “Don’t be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It’s… it’s for the best.”

My heart sank, I know that I can’t trust him, really, I do, but… I couldn’t help but like him as a teacher.

It hurt to hear him say that, in front of the whole class too.

The other students snickered, Nancy sent me a smug grin.

“Okay, sir.” I mumbled.

“I mean…” Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth, like he wasn’t sure what to say. “this isn’t the right place for you. It was only a matter of time.”

What does he mean by that?! That I’m destined to be kicked out? That despite the high standards he’s been holding me to he had zero faith in me? That he was going to insure I would be kicked out if it wasn’t something else?

“Right,” I whispered.

“No, no,” Mr. Brunner said. “Oh, confound it all. What I’m trying to say… you’re not normal, Percy. That’s-“

“Thanks,” I blurted, holding back my fear that he could know about my power, “Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding me.”

I bolted, hearing his call as I fled.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The last day of term had finally arrived.

I gathered up my notebooks, my waterskin, my assorted gifts from Triton and my friends, Carl in his new transportable tank, and carefully put everything up in my two bags, my waterskin on top. My suitcase held the extra and all of my clothes.

The other guys were talking about their plans for their breaks.

They’re all juvenile delinquents like me, kids that can’t manage it in other schools, but they’re rich ones.

Doesn’t mean I have to let them know that I’m not doing much unless Triton can contact me soon. I probably shouldn’t even go to the river until Triton gets ahold of me.

One of them asked what I was doing this summer.

“I’ll be visiting some of my friends overseas. I haven’t seen them since winter break.” I flashed them a bright smile that hid the ache in my chest as they questioned me more.

“Where do they live?”

“Oh, on some islands a bit out. They’re a bit spread out, so I’ll probably move around some.”

“That’s cool, looking forward to it?”

“Yeah,” I grinned, “They’re a lot of fun.”

They went back to talking about their trips but did leave an opening for me to join if I wanted.

I didn’t, they were all kind of jerks to Grover, but I appreciated it.

The only person that I was nervous about saying goodbye to was Grover. Even with Tethys’s advice, even knowing that he may try to harm me, it’s so hard to let it go.

Turns out I don’t have to yet though because he’s coming with me. We have tickets on the same Greyhound bus to Manhattan.

Seems suspicious.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Grover is clearly very nervous, glancing around and down the aisles, watching the passengers. It was similar to how he acted every time we left Yancy. I ducked my head and didn’t say anything about it.

“Hey Percy?”

I glanced at him, “Yeah?”

“I uh, I know that uh, that we’re going different ways this summer. But…. I thought, uh, here-“

He handed me a card, “Just take this, in case you need me this summer.”

I took the card, which is in the most obnoxious fancy script that took me a minute of squinting at to read.

Grover Underwood

Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York

(800) 009-0009

My heart almost stopped, Half-Blood Hill.

What does this have to do with Half-Bloods?

“What’s Half-“

“Don’t say it aloud!” He yelped, “That’s my, um… summer address.”

I stared at him, is he trying to trick me into going into some sort of trap?

“Okay, so if I want to visit.”

“Or… or if you need me.” He nodded.

“Why would I need you?”

I couldn’t help the bitter words. How could I trust him after what I overheard the other day?

Grover blushed right down to his Adam’s apple. “Look, Percy, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you.”

I stared at him, the likely mythological being that I’m half convinced is supposed to be assassinating me.

“Grover, what exactly are you protecting me from?”

Could I have misunderstood?

Suddenly there was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard and the whole bus filled with a smell like rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced we’d all have to get off. Grover and I filed outside with everyone else, and my senses were on fire.

It was like a web of feeling, fabric flowing over me, almost sparking as it moved.

My head snapped around, on the other side of the road, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

There, next to it in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, sat three old ladies knitting the biggest pair of socks I’ve ever seen.

And those old ladies were... dangerous.

The energy I could tell was there, it was overloading my senses.

I couldn’t feel anything but the crackling fabric flowing over me.

The lady on the right knitted one of the socks, the lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn that made me feel like a knife was pressed to my throat.

The combined feelings made me want to claw at my skin, what is this? Who are they? What’s going on?

The three ladies were looking right at me. I rubbed at my arms.

Grover made a strangled sound and I glanced at him. Just barely resisting bolting from the area.

“Grover?” I said. “Hey, man—”

“Tell me they’re not looking at you. They are, aren’t they?”

I swallowed, oh dear.

“Yeah, why?”

The lady in the middle took out a pair of scissors, massive scissors—gold and silver, long bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

“We’re getting on the bus,” he told me. “Come on.”

I stood still, staring at the old ladies with the scissors that made my head spin, their presence that made electric fabric rub at my skin, and their yarn that felt like knives prickling my neck.

“Come on!” He called, prying open the door and climbing inside.

The old ladies still watched me, and the middle one lifted the scissors.

I could hear the snip of her cutting the yarn from across all four lanes of traffic. Her two friends bundled up the electric-blue socks and I felt the at this point familiar buzz fill my head. The three ladies were gone between one blink and the next.

At the fear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The prickling of a knife, the electric fabric, the head spinning all faded, almost entirely gone.

The passengers cheered.

“Darn right!” yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. “Everybody back on board!”

We got back on, the buzzing still nudging me. I pushed my power as hard as I could, shoving the buzzing trying to reach me away.

Grover looked sick, I didn’t feel great myself, but the buzzing had faded almost entirely.

“Grover?”

“Yeah?”

I hesitated, should I? I want to know… I need to know if he’s actually a threat.

I licked my lips, “What are you not telling me?”

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. “Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?”

“There were three old ladies, two knitting giant socks, one holding yarn. The one in the middle cut the yarn, then they left.

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers, one I recognized from my time with Triton. A symbol to ward of evil. With magic behind it, it can do small things. Otherwise it’s just a simple hand motion.

“You saw her snip the cord.”

“Yeah. So?” Who were those old ladies? Nothing has bothered my senses like them before.

“This is not happening,” Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. “I don’t want this to be like last time.”

I scowled, “What last time?”

“Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth.”

“Grover,” I snapped, because I just want answers! “What are you talking about?”

“Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me.”

I stared at him, there’s no way I’m letting him know where I live. I’m not endangering my mom like that.

“Sure.”

He continued to bemoan my fate, looking at me mournfully, like he was already picking the kind of flowers I’d like best on my coffin (Forget-me-nots so I can boss people around even when I’m dead).

[ianpriceisnotright]

it’s time the kid got free - an ian price playlist for his past, present, and future

i. when she looks at me and laughs, i remind her of the facts. i'm the king of rock 'n' roll completely... hot dog, jumping frog, albuquerque! // like it's gold, you're a prophet. someone's gonna profit. // pawn on every chess board, used 'til they get bored. smile when they yell, 'checkmate.'  // i'm supposed to be happy and free. everyone is talking to me. most of the nights, i lay on my phone, watching the world... nobody knows the sadness i hold. nobody sees what's about to unfold. // i been thinking about you and i wanna go do something nice. i can't take rejection and that's why i pay the crazy price. if you ain't ecstatic i feel like i blew it big time. i'm a little manic, i just wanna see your big smile. nothing means more to me than when i hear that you're proud of me. // 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. // i should've stayed at home, 'cause right now i see all these people that love me but i still feel alone. // i had a dream i got everything i wanted. not what you'd think, and if i'm being honest, it might've been a nightmare. // if it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?  // somewhere i lost some of my innocence, and i miss it. stay up all night thinking it's twisted, my life's been survival of the fittest, but i did it. // they tell me i've got something more, and oh you could be loved. but i don't want the lights to find me when i'm dark and lost but never on my own... they said you'll never be alone again, but i don't think you understand me or what i fear... i wonder how it feels to burn out young. // this is everything i wanna say, but can't say yet. and everything i wanna change, but can't change. // they said, don't meet your heroes, they're all fucking weirdos, and god knows that they were right. because nobody loves you, they just try to fuck you, then put you on a feature on the b-side. and who do you call when it's late at night, when the headlines just don't paint the picture right? when you look at yourself on a screen and say, "oh my god, there's no way that's me..." i remember this girl with pink hair in detroit, she said, "you gotta promise us that you won't die 'cause we need you" and honestly i think that she lied. // who put the world on my back and not in my hands? just give me a chance... think i'm reaching my limit. can i exhale for a minute? // i hold you so proudly. traumas, they surround me. i wish you'd just love me back. // i think the kids are in trouble. i do not know what all the troubles are for. give them ice for their fevers. you're the only thing i ever want anymore. live on coffee and flowers and try not to wonder what the weather will be. // i found love in a place i thought was hopeless, now i'm glad i stayed... but i still say i don't wanna be here. i don't wanna be here, i don't wanna be here, take me away. // i'm a pretty boy livin' on the west side, livin' so loud, you could never hear me cry... no more fears and no more lies, i tell myself to sleep at night, amongst these hills, baby. // god, i wonder why we bother. all the glamour, and the trauma, and the fucking melodrama. 

ii.  i can fake a smile, i can force a laugh. i can dance and play the part if that's what you ask... but i'm only human, and i crash and i break down. your words in my head, knives in my heart. you build me up and then i fall apart. // i thought if i was older, i'd have less on my shoulders. i can't tell if i'm sad or bored. most nights i am not sober. l.a.'s making me colder. i've got voices i can't ignore... took my patience for weakness. i wish i would have had the choice. // rip me open, you'll see you're not the only one who's hopeless... don't let me let you down. hey, baby i'm not your superhuman, and if that's what you want, i hate to let you down... it's such a long and awful lonely fall down from this pedestal that you keep putting me on. // and just like a tale my dream was a scam. you waited smiling for this? i am burnt out... oh maybe i'll talk about it. i'll never talk about it. // i'm like a paper cup with a pin prick. you can fill me up but i'll only stay full for a while... you say you understand me well i don't get you at all. it seems everyone around me is so good at faking it that i don't know just how to act around you. // i'm afraid that i've gone vacant, and i don't have time for your equations... when you push me like hell, that's when i start to despise myself. // honestly, what will become of me? don't like reality, it's way too clear to me... we are what we don't see. we miss everything daydreaming. // i was in but i want out. my mother's love is choking me. i'm sick of words that hang above my head. what about the kid? it's time the kid got free... i'm sitting pretty on the throne. there's nothing more i want, except to be alone. 

iii. you peaked. sorry to kick deep, but heard your story before it's not unique... why can't you just play your part? you were supposed to be somebody. you were supposed to make more money. // these are the reasons i drink. the reasons i tell everybody i'm fine even though i am not. these are the reasons i overdo it... to make up for these habits, to survive this sick industry. // why do i waste so much time on things that i can't fix? all these things i hold inside i just can't forget. thought that i could let this go, but i ain't know that it would be like this... baby, i'm impossible to be with. // said my spirit doesn't move like it did before. said that i don't look like me no more. i said i'm just tired, she said you're just high... oh, i make you cringe now. don't i make you cringe? // you're so shook when i look right past you, so surprised you don't get an answer... ain't it weird to feel small 'n stuff? oh, come on, just say something. no, go ahead, tell me, what do i need? // these people don't heal, these people don't feel. these people aren't real so make me this deal. won't you gimme love when i'm gone? // all these voices in my head get loud. i wish that i could shut them out. i'm sorry that i let you down. yeah, i guess i'm a disappointment... paranoia, what did i do wrong this time? that's parents for you. very loyal? shoulda had my back, but you put a knife in it, my hands are full. what else should i carry for you? // i would rather rot alone then spend a minute with you. i'm gone, i'm gone. and you can't stop me from falling apart, 'cause my self-destruction is all your fault... doesn't matter what i do, nothing's gonna change. i'm never good enough... how could you, how could you, how could you love me? when all you ever gave me were open wounds? // oh and i tried to start caring like you and like them when you said that i was killing myself. i healed everything but my shame. // and at once, i knew i was not magnificent. 

iv. and they tell you that you're lucky, but you're so confused, 'cause you don't feel pretty, you just feel used... and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared. how you took the money and your dignity, and got the hell out. // i know that i'm stuck in this misery. guess i'm not enough like you used to think, so i'll just run. // out on my own, kicked out of the show. i'll take what's mine and i'll go. // you've got a second chance, you could escape it all... you could still be what you want to. // i'm a goner. somebody catch my breath. i wanna be known by you. // i had a hole in the middle where the lightning went through it. told my friends not to worry... didn't want to be your ghost. didn't want to be anyone's ghost. // some say love is a burning thing that it makes a fiery ring. but i know love as a fading thing, just as fickle as a feather in a stream... i will not open myself up this way again. // you can't take back what you've taken away, 'cause i feel you. i feel you near me. // have you forgotten what you have and what is yours...? there's so much more, you can reclaim your crown. you're in control. rid of the monsters inside your head, put all your faults to bed. you can be king again. // somebody said you disappeared in a crowd. i didn't understand then, i don't understand now... i was solid gold, i was in the fight. i was coming back from what seemed like a ruin... now i only think about los angeles when the sun kicks out. // first night of your life curled up on your own. looking at you now, you would never know. // i do believe it's true, that there are roads left in both of our shoes. // shout out to the old me and everything he showed me. glad you didn't listen when the world was trying to slow me... had to fuck it up before i really got to know me. // what if who i hoped to be was always me? and the love i fought to feel was always free? what if all the things i've done were just attempts at earning love? 'cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep. 

[soreavs]

did  you  know  either  of  the  victims  :   amelia  taylor  or  cassie  snyder  ?  if  yes  ,   how  well  did  you  know  them ?  

i didn’t know them. but you don’t have to worry, this isn’t gonna like, send me into a spiral. i know that soren, but we talked about how processing things can sometimes feel messy and that’s okay. well i didn’t know them.

how  have  your  sleeping  and  eating  patterns  been  ?  

fine. i know you don’t want to hear that i’m fine, but don’t you think that some people can just be fine ? that being fine’s their way of coping ? what makes you think i don’t want to hear that you’re fine ? i don’t know. you’d be down one less patient maybe. sorry. i just know, that there are ways of doing things, processing them, and i’m not doing it.

do  you  find  yourself  thinking  about  the  event  even  when  you  don’t  want  to  ?  if  yes  ,   what  are  the  most  frequent  images ?  

it still feels like sort of a blur. i tried to journal it after but was having trouble remembering what happened. after i got back i just went to sleep, and during the lockdown i just wandered. it didn’t feel like anything was wrong, but of course something was wrong, i know that.

do  you  avoid  thinking  or  talking  about  the  event ?

no, not with myself at least. i’m not very good at comforting people. i never know what the right thing to say is. i don’t get how people can say it’s going to be okay with a straight face. because it’s not. why do you think that ? i just have a feeling. it’s not something i’m paranoid about, i just think, that when it comes, i won’t be surprised. really, i can’t imagine having any other response than finally.

do  you  avoid  going  places  or  being  in  situations  that  remind  you  of  the  event ?  if  yes  ,   what  are  these  places  ?  

no, maybe it’s because i didn’t go to the dance. how was the mission ? fine. well, actually, it was good, is that weird to say ? no, not at all. i spotted some debris that ended up being pretty important. i felt kinda proud of myself. i know it’s not something you celebrate. not with everything that happened after.

do  you  have  nightmares  about   the  event  ?   if  yes  ,   please  describe  these  nightmares  to  the  best  of  your  ability  .  

no, i rarely dream and if i do they’re prophetic so it’s a good sign that i haven’t had any nightmares about the event. prophetic, why do you say that ? it’s just something i believe. it doesn’t mean they’ll happen in a week, or a year, or a lifetime. but they will happen. what makes you so sure ? you must not be religious. it’s just the awareness that something is coming, and that you have a part in it. like judgement day. yes. you base your actions on what’s to come. you don’t steal because you don’t wanna go to jail, you don’t steal because you don’t wanna go to hell. it’s the same thing. do you worry about going to hell ? i’m not going to either so -- -- soren. what ?! if people can believe in god -- people believe in god, not that they’re god. i don’t think i’m god. i’m just not like you. have you been taking your medication? ... i forgot to bring it with me on the mission. but it was fine. i was fine. take a minute.  

do  you  feel  easily  startled  or  anxious  ?  give  examples  .  

no. yes. sorry. i feel a bit all over the place now. i’m sorry. really. it’s alright, answer on your own time. -- -- -- no. not any more than usual. i’m usually pretty prone to being startled anyways because i never watch where i’m going and sometimes have to remind myself to listen during class.

do  you  worry  about  being  harmed  or  feel  “on guard” ?  give  examples  .  

no. have you seen that meme ? of the guy shrugging, going i’ll guess i’ll die ? no. oh. well. that’s sort of how i feel. do you feel indifferent to your own wellbeing ? no -- i, it’s just a meme.

do  you  feel  detached  or  “numb”  ?  how  so  ?  

yes. or well, i’m sure you’ve read my file. do you ever talk to my old therapist ? she was really nice. not that you aren’t. i just miss her a lot. anyways, i think it says in there that due to my belief system, my grief was never acknowledged as grief. your belief system being your religious upbringing ? no, my belief in extraterrestrials. right. i know they’re ... we had a funeral. and what about amelia and cassie ? oh. i know they’re dead. i’m sure they’re in a better place. the same place you believe you’ll go to ? no. heaven.

do  you  feel  shame  or  guilt  about  the  event  or  about  problems  related  to  the  event ?  what  do  you  think  is  causing  this  same  or  guilt ?  

not guilt, but i can’t help but wonder whether the mission somehow, someway impacted that night. i haven’t had a chance to sort through it, really think about it. i suppose i’m not in any rush to either. i feel bad for the georgetown kids. completely in the dark like that. i don’t like lying. so i don’t talk to them if i can help it.

do  you  find  that  you  act  irritable  or  angry  ?  in  what  ways  ?  

no. not really. felicity always called me a moon child. and not because i loved space, she just thought i was calm like the moon. bright too. intellectually. or maybe she meant it in a light up the room way, but if she did, she was only saying that because she’s my sister.

do  you  act  oppositional  ,  act  out  sexually  ,  or  abuse  alcohol  or  drugs ?

no, i don’t think i’ve ever been extroverted enough to do that. drinking alone makes me feel like a loner, so i don’t do that. or, the other stuff. it’s a bit pathetic. that’s all the questions i have for you. cool. take your meds, soren. you’re hurting no one but yourself by not taking them. yeah. maybe. thanks. i’ll see you next week.

[weaverlings]

(so this is super long and mainly about WTNV because that’s the part I understand, or... at least have spent a lot of time thinking about, but there’s definitely a heavy component of comparison between the two series in this)

@vildflower said: I’ve been thinking how wtnv and tma approach similar concepts of vaguely otherworldly entities who are only somewhat connected to the universe that they seem to operate in vs. the universe that they seem to exist in

so this is all super interesting stuff thank u!!!! I just needed to get to the computer to go over it properly bc tbh it deserves it

vildflower said: like,, tma has the whole concept of rituals and avatars whereas wtnv could arguably have. a hierarchy? like when you think about it;; huntokar, the distant prince, the woman from italy, even the great golden hand, are ancient and possibly the closest to ‘gods,’ who dont interact w nightvale often but either have vested interest in it or are able to interact w it more easily due to number of reasons as compared to, like, the rest of the world? 

Part of the reason I listened to The Magnus Archives in the first place was because I’d heard hints of the connection between belief (fear specifically, as it happened) and reality, and the tangible effects that this connection has. I have pretty much always interpreted Night Vale along similar lines, but now having listened to TMA... I don’t feel like the execution is all that similar? 

While the lines are super fun to draw, WTNV doesn’t have such clear divisions or, well... I guess TMA didn’t, either, but I don’t think WTNV does have such clear organizational structure?

I think the/a key difference between WTNV and TMA is that not all of the entities of Night Vale necessarily tie back into an overarching force, or at least... the same overarching force. Which you go into, but that’s just such a core aspect of TMA that it at least feels pretty distinct. 

And the gods of Night Vale, I think, all have a much clearer and even more “relatable” sentience than the Powers. The gods have trouble communicating with other people, in various ways, but they also, say, express regret or ask for coffee when they do communicate.

vildflower said: and then theres the smiling god who could be said to be in a category of his own, or even perhaps in the same category as cecil- the way the smiling god’s existence seems to be in direct connection to desert bluffs/the joyous congregation and cecil seems to ‘depend’ on nightvale and its residents. or maybe it would be more accurate to equate station management and the smiling god, both finding ways to communicate w their respective towns through 'avatars’: cecil & kevin.

Yeah! If being a “Voice” means anything, I do think it would be related to these gods... I guess it would’ve been Huntokar, once, for Cecil. (And now, well... I don’t know. But if bloodstone worship is just happening, that’s a lot of undirected faith, and I feel like it needs to go somewhere... or to something.) And yup, for Kevin, it would be the Smiling God.

However, one thing I’m hoping we’ll see from this arc is addressing the fact that what the Joyous Congregation THINKS is the Smiling God is apparently really different from what it actually is. Even some of the church elders - the actual pastor - believed that it was the centipede, and this would seem to indicate that’s not true. 

I mean, if nothing else It Devours! was pretty clear about the fact that the centipede was just an animal, so I don’t see it or anything like it having plotted or directed someone to exploit people’s brains for labor in the future

So I wouldn’t put the Smiling God in the same category as Cecil, or even Kevin, but I think Cecil and Kevin occupy the same category like you said... 

For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought of Cecil more like an “oracle” (even before Alice Isn’t Dead!!) - giving advice or answering questions, kind of a guide, if in a sort of opaque or enigmatic way, whether he wants to be or not. And then Kevin is more like a prophet - offering a vision of how things should be, giving commandments, etc, regardless of what people might ask for or what would help them.

vildflower said: continuing this heirarchy the next lower tier would perhaps be city council and the librarians which have pretty fixed, smaller areas of direct interaction w nightvalians. there’s also the spire! which sounds quite similar to the spiral, i think….

I think that’s a good example of how it’s different... “Barks” sounded like the kind of thing that could have been related to the Spiral, that sort of distortion. But the purpose was different - the Spire wanted to bargain, and from the sound of it it’s a lot more open about its demands (iirc: Night Valian “Thanksgiving” involves going out to thank the Spire for its “mercy”). It’s also a known destination. 

People in Night Vale know what it is to them. They may not know what it is exactly, but they do know the role it plays in their community. So while it absolutely fits into the structure of Night Vale, I don’t think it’s that similar beyond some (admittedly major) aesthetic elements?

All of those forces in Night Vale, the librarians and the council etc, while indeed forces and while they definitely relate to the human citizens in weird ways... they’re still citizens. 

The Powers are TIED to the world of TMA, but an explicit part of it is that they’re fundamentally alien to it, too, and basically need to be forced in.

vildflower said: but yeah,, hope you don’t mind the long rant rip aksk but at this point I’m pretty sure one could draw up a list of some 15 nightvale entities too lmao

(fdsdgh no you don’t need to apologize, I loved it and I’ve been thinking about this kind of thing a lot anyway too!!)

vildflower said: HOW COULD I FORGET! the glow cloud interacts w an even smaller group of people (the PTA) than the city council + angels!! I’d say they’re actually at the lowest rung cause they seemed to only be interested in josie; maybe their attachment to them in turn lead to be attached to nightvale even after she died?

actually the Glow Cloud works w/ the school board and seems to end up in conflict w/ the PTA and I only remember this because I was checking on it for something recently oops. 

ALSO THE ANGELS... YEAH THAT’S NEAT because!! they’re the only part of this that has an explicit connection to belief in canon!!

“They are all named Erika with a K. All angels are equal to all other angels. They share all memories and all physical sensations. They experience everything simultaneously. Their minds are overwhelmed with enlightenment and pain.

“They have no centralized leadership, but they do have committees, lots of committees. These committees do not have titles nor objectives. The committees simply emerge as needed...

“Angels have no bodies, only visual projections of winged, barely humanoid forms. These forms are dreamed up by those who see and acknowledge them, and may vary based on the viewer.

“The secret hierarchy of angels is an ethereal mass of feelings and thoughts made manifest by necessity. They’re only individual beings because we imagine them so, but they are collectively beings.”

But I think, yeah... Night Vale is, at its core, a community. And the worldbuilding of WTNV reflects that, even to the extent that belief is involved. I mean, really, the world does run on “belief” it’s just not a supernatural thing... We believe in the necessity of our social structures, so we create and act on them. 

And that’s what happens in Night Vale, it’s just that in Night Vale, a divine Glow Cloud runs the school board and the librarians will eat you. All the “forces” that we expect are there. Even though they’re strange (to us, at least), it’s all centered around the maintenance of a community. TMA has a much larger scope.

theres that whispering forest too and omg the desert otherworld, and the black star in ‘a story about you’ & other episodes; entities that manifest more as locations than sentient beings? 

So yes!! Night Vale as a place is definitely a gathering point for the weird. I think of Hiram’s favorite memory in this context, too - Hiram was happy in Night Vale because he could just live, for a while, anyway. Or at least, when people were upset, they weren’t upset by his nature as a five-headed dragon (who cares, right?) but because of what he did)

It does have a clear structure, but it’s not the same kind that the Powers operate under - WTNV (depending on interpretation, and none of it is canon tbh, as much as I love it) and TMA are both very different explorations of the connection between belief and reality.

Like the Whispering Forest is... well, apparently it’s its own town now. But it was sort of the local weird forest; it was... a citizen, maybe. In the way, indeed, that the Glow Cloud still is! It just wants to live (and grow. and expand) and Night Vale is a place it can do that. 

The Desert Otherworld seems to be connected to the Smiling God, although we don’t know much about how or why or if it’s always been that way. Dana saw some things, though, like when she almost forgot herself in the image of a triangle (iirc), not to mention the rumbling and whatever’s up with the Mudstone Abyss... And then it does have its connection to Night Vale, too, through the Dog Park... There’s a LOT going on w/ the Otherworld; that’s basically its own post dsfdgfdg 

And the dark planet lit by no sun is like. I admit I’ve never thought of it in the same light as the other things before! So I’d want to do that before going into it but that raises some SUPER interesting possibilities and if you have more thoughts I’d love to hear them! It definitely merits that further consideration. 

So in summary: TMA has rituals and avatars, and WTNV has community. I think.

[this-is-freeridge]

The Air Between Us

Chapter Eight: Mari bonds with Cesar and deals with her feelings in the aftermath of her night with Oscar.

Warning: this fic deals with dark themes, including but not limited to teen pregnancy, rape, drug abuse, murder, abortion, underage drinking and underage sex.

Read all the other chapters here

That night, the nightmares were more just bad dreams that Mari barely remembered when she woke at two o’clock - hair stuck to her face by a thin layer of sweat, short of breath and mouth dry. Upon instinct she reached out toward the bedside table where her glass of water usually sits. It wasn’t until she closed her fist around thin air did her surroundings come back to her - this was Oscar’s bed, Oscar’s house, Oscar’s leg thrown over her own and his arm that felt heavy across her torso.

Slowly and carefully so not to wake the man sleeping beside her (though judging by his snoring he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon) she began to make her way out of the bed. Clad in only Oscar’s oversized tee, she padded through the dark house to the kitchen. Hands out to find a light switch she collided with something solid. Before she got a chance to wonder what it was, the light flicked on and she was face to face with Cesar.

Mari froze. Shit - if Cesar knew then Ruby would eventually find out. This was supposed to be a secret and they couldn’t even last 24 hours!

Cesar looked just as shocked, but he composed himself quickly.

“I saw nothing,” he said, throwing his hands in the air in surrender. She gave him a grateful smile in return.

He turned to leave but Mari felt she should say something. Oscar said he’s a good kid and even Ruby and Jamal had said that he didn’t seem like himself that day. Even tonight, for just a second, Mari got a glimpse behind the facade. He was lost and he shouldn’t be punished for that.

“Ruby misses you,” she said. The teen froze and turned back to her.

“He talks about me?” He asked, voice laced with a hopefulness that broke Mari’s heart.

“He’s been telling me all these stories,” she explained, “you were one of his best friends for years; it’s hard not to talk about you, as much as he may want to avoid it,”

Cesar nodded with a frown, avoiding Mari’s eyes. The boy looked like he was about to cry.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly looking at her. “For the shit I said. It wasn’t cool, and I’m not usually like that, I just…I don’t know,”

He needed to talk, that much was obvious, and Mari felt bad for him. She knows what it’s like to feel like you have to put on a facade to fit in. This boy before her…he didn’t look like a kid who wanted to be in a gang. Why didn’t Oscar know that.

“You know what? Sit,” Mari said, pointing toward the round kitchen table. “Where are your glasses and cutlery?”

“Far left cabinet, top drawer,” he answered, pulling up a chair.

Mari filled a glass with water and offered one to Cesar, who shook his head no. Juggling a glass of water and two forks in one hand, Mari used the other to grab the red velvet cake that Spooky had made. Sure, it may be a bit stale after sitting there for most of the night, but she didn’t want it to go to waste and, other than alcohol, what better than sugar to help someone open up?

“Spooky spent all day making that cake, you know. Getting it perfect,” Cesar said as Mari took a seat across from him and handed over a fork.

“Where did he learn to cook so well?”

“I dunno, I guess when I was growing up he had to cook for me a lot when mom wasn’t there. Spose he just picked it up,” he said, before adding, “he really likes you,”

Mari’s lips twitched into a sort of half-smile. Sure, she had recently learned about Oscar’s feelings for her but it was nice to hear confirmation from Cesar, too.

“I really like him too,” she said. “I just don’t know how I would really fit into his life,”

It was only a half lie. She liked things with Oscar how they were, but she wanted more - she wanted to kiss him more and hold his hand and she definitely wanted to repeat tonight, but she had to think of the bigger picture. Spooky is in a gang - more than that, he leads one. He said that his life isn’t safe and he was right, what would Mari do if the Prophet$ rolled up on her? What if something happened to Oscar? She had to keep telling herself these things otherwise, knowing what she knows now and having experienced this night with Oscar, she would never get over him.

“You’d be good for him. A girlfriend might actually help him unclench a little,” Cesar said, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her back to her surroundings. “He’s a good guy, Mari. He can be a bit of a dick, especially around the cholos, and he has some temper issues but that’s because he cares a lot. He has a good heart, he means well so don’t let his tough-guy act scare you off,”

“Yeah,” Mari said, unsure of how to respond to that when she knows Spooky had already made his feelings clear, “Enough about me and Spooky, onto you; why did you say that shit? Because it made me feel like crap and it’s caused this shit with Ruby and now you’re apologising to me, which I appreciate, but wouldn’t it be better to mend your life-long friendship first? I just don’t get it, Cesar,”

Cesar sighed.

“When I said that to you I was just trying to show off in front of the other cholos. Spooky only just got out so I was new to the gang and I have Spooky’s reputation to live up to, y’know? Lil’ Spooky and all. What I said about Monse…” He met her eyes with a serious expression, “whatever I say tonight, you can’t tell anyone,”

“Hey, clearly whatever we learn tonight stays between us,” Mari says with a flourish of her hand, gesturing to herself and her minimal clothing.

Cesar nodded. “What I said about Monse was true. We hooked up before she left for camp and we agreed to keep it on the D-L, but then Oscar was saying that stuff and I had to keep him away from her, so I claimed her,”

“Wait, claimed her? What does that even mean?” Mari asked, shovelling a forkful of cake in her mouth and she leaned forward intently.

She had never heard the term before and though it sounded mildly derogatory, she was curious to know as much about Spooky’s world as she could. Maybe, she thought, if she knew more she would understand why he wouldn’t be with her.

“It means like,” he was struggling to find the words while not offending her, before deciding fuck it; nothing leaves this room anyway, “when you smash a girl, she’s yours; none of the other cholos can touch her or make a move. So, I claimed her,”

“That’s kinda disgusting,” she said, “but I get it. You were protecting your friend in your strange, Santos way,” Cesar nodded. “Well, she’s gonna find out what happened sooner or later, and if you guys did say to keep it on the down-low then she’s going to be pissed. Have you thought about telling her?”

Cesar shook his head. “I can’t, it’ll ruin her camp and I don’t...I don’t want her around this life,”

“Isn’t it better to hear it from you than Ruby? Or some Santo on the street? You should tell her,”

“Why don’t you tell Spooky how you feel?” He challenged, avoiding the topic.

“I did,” Mari snapped. It could’ve been his tone, or maybe just the fact that her feelings are still an open, gaping wound, but something struck a nerve. She took a breath to calm herself before she continued. “I told him how I felt and all I got was this one night stand,”

There was a pause, and then -

“Isn’t that the title of a Fall Out Boy song?”

Mari chuckled, grateful for the ease of tension. The cake was mostly gone at this point, and it was getting earlier which meant she would have to leave in just a couple of hours. She wanted to spend them back in Spooky’s arms.

“We should get to bed. I have to leave once it’s light out. Geny is going to kill me for leaving my own party,” Mari said. “Shit, how are we gonna explain to Spooky that the cake is gone?”

Cesar said with a shrug, “I’ll think of something,”

“Thank you,”

“No, thank you. It was good to have someone to talk to,”

Mari smiled. Cesar was a good kid and she liked him, he just needs someone to be a good influence on his life, maybe bring Oscar down a notch when it comes to Cesar’s future. If she were to stick around she would happily be that person and she could only hope that whoever Oscar does choose to bring into his family appreciates Cesar too.

They said their goodnights and Mari made her way back to Oscar’s waiting arms. She set the glass of water down on the bedside table as quietly as possible and reclaimed her place in the sheets. The moment she was under the covers, thick arms snaked around her.

“I thought you left,” Spooky’s deep voice murmured in her ear.

A pang of disappointment hit Mari right in the gut as it occurred to her that if she had left, he was just going to let her. So this really is it, a one night stand.

“Just getting water,” she said.

“I thought I heard talking,” he said but before Mari could say anything else, he had already started fallen back asleep.

.

The second time Mari woke up it was because her stomach hurt. She heard it growl and felt it churn as she tried to hang onto sleep. Admitting defeat, she looked up to the window and could just see a shred of sunlight filtering in past the curtains.

It was just a few hours later, right as the sun was pulling into the sky. About five-am, if she were to guess, but there was no way for her to check as she had left her phone at Ruben’s last night. She knew she was in for it when she got back and she tried to prepare herself for it as she put on her dress and slid on her shoes. Spooky was still dead to the world. Mari didn’t bother waking him as she crept through his bedroom and out the front door.

Freeridge looked different during these hours. A gentle glow had settled over the neighbourhood and everything was silent. There were no Santos coming onto her or Prophet$ rolling up on her; no kids screaming as they played in their front yard or couples screaming as they fought behind closed doors where they thought no one would hear. In these hours, Mari though Freeridge was beautiful. She only wished her stomach would settle long enough for her to enjoy it.

The cool, fresh summer air helped the nausea a little, but drowsiness was creeping up and she felt like she was going to vomit at any moment as she approached the Martinez home. Wanting to avoid any conflict, or general human interaction, she tried the front door but it was locked. Of course it was locked - no sane person in Freeridge would leave their door unlocked, but she thought it was worth a try anyway. She wondered absently if they’d let her get a key as she knocked hesitantly rang the doorbell.

The silence that followed was deafening. A lifetime passed before the door swung open.

It was Geny that opened the door. Her dark hair was mussed from sleep, though Mari didn’t think she got a lot of it based on the dark circles under her usually young eyes. The look on her face was one of worry and it instantly aged her. Mari felt bad and she wanted to apologise, but she also felt like she might throw up and desperately needed to get to the bathroom.

In a second, Geny flung her arms around Mari in a tight hug.

“We were so worried about you! You weren’t answering your phone and Ruben almost called in sick from work just to search for you!” Her voice was shrill and Mari could tell just from that she had been genuinely concerned. It felt nice finally knowing where she stood with Geny, finally feeling accepted. Then, Geny broke the hug and her face turned to anger. “How dare you run off like that! And from your own party! You better have a good reason, young lady!”

Mari’s stomach lurched and Geny’s yellowing made her head pound.

“Geny, I’m sorry,” Mari mumbled, feeling suddenly too unwell, “I don’t feel well, I can’t do this now,”

Geny bellowed an incredulous laugh and said “oh, we are talking about this now, I-”

Mari didn’t let her finish what she was saying as she ran inside, straight for the bathroom and vomited ungracefully into the toilet.

Geny stopped questioning her for now, with the promise that it wasn’t over, and drove Mari to the doctor about an hour later, when she could finally go at least twenty minutes without throwing up. The appointment put a dent in her moving-out-fund at the price of $80 for a consultation alone - any medication was extra and Mari made a mental note that whatever this was would pass and she could stick it out.

The doctor she saw was a short lady with a can I speak to your manager haircut and a face like she just ate a lemon. She didn’t give Mari much of a chance to talk about her symptoms, choosing instead to ask curt questions and make judgemental noises.

“Have you eaten anything strange?” She had asked.

“Really, really old chicken,” Mari answered, ashamed.

“Ugh,” she added a note on the computer. “Are you sexually active?”

Was she? Is she considered to be sexually active now? Did she have a sex life? She supposed, for all intents and purposes, she did.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Hm. Contraception?”

“The pill,” she said, and then remembering she had nearly run out of her stash, added, “which I actually need a new prescription for,”

“Mhm. Last time having unprotected intercourse?”

“Uh, last night,” she said. Was this doctor really suggesting she was pregnant? It was a ridiculous notion; she’d been on the pill for going on a month now, not to mention she and Spooky had just had sex the night before. She was no expert, but she was almost positive that it didn’t quite work like that and this doctor just wanted something to gossip about.

The doctor had decided, after that, it was most likely just a small bout of food poisoning that would be over in a day or so. Mari thanked her, for mostly nothing though she did write up a new prescription for birth control, and left. She made a mental note to go to the pharmacy later (if Geny and Ruben even let her out of their sight) because she sure as hell wasn’t about to buy contraception with Geny; she wasn’t ready for that talk.

.

The doctor was right; the sickness passed in just two days.

Two days that Mari wasn’t able to work and make back the $130 she had to fork out on medical expenses. Two days that she didn’t hear from Oscar and, out of pride (and maybe a little humiliation), she made no effort to contact him either.

She tried to put it out of her mind as she worked, tried to forget about how it felt to be with Spooky and how bad she wanted to do it again. It was hard not to think about it though, especially when the day was passing so slowly and there had been little to no customers. That was pretty common for this small corner store, but usually Mari would be texting Oscar or stalking Cesar’s instagram to pass the time and at the moment, even looking at Spooky made her hurt.

She had restocked the shelves, helped herself to a can of soda from the fridge and was flipping through a trashy teen magazine when the doorbell buzzed. Happy to have something to do, even if it was just for a few minutes, she set the magazine aside and stood at attention with a smile.

A boy had walked in. He looked to be about her age, with blond hair that looked like it came straight from a bottle and sat in a mess atop his head. There was a swagger in his walk as he headed toward her, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it, but the shy smile on his face betrayed that confident air.

“Hey,” he greeted casually as he approached her, a crooked smile on his face. Within a second, he straightened up, lost the smile and tried again, “I mean, hello,”

Amused, Mari humoured him with a giggle and a smile and said, “hello, how can I help you today?”

“Oh, right,” he said, pulling his backpack off his shoulder and rummaging through it, “shit - oh, shit! Damn it - sorry!”

Finally finding what he wanted, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of the backpack. He glanced at the paper and then back at Mari. His posture slumped again and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, for my language and everything,” he said. When he handed the paper to Mari she saw it was a resume with so little experience listed it was kinda sad. “My family is moving here so I’m trying to get in early and get a job. I was so not prepared and, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting someone…like you,”

Mari raised an eyebrow. Like her?

“So are you ageist, sexist or just racist?” She asked, immediately jumping into defence mode and ready to defend herself.

The boy’s face contorted into one of shock.

“Oh, no! No!” His white face turned beet red. “I just meant that you’re really pretty. It’s intimidating,”

A beat passed and Mari broke into a smile. She liked the feeling of him calling her pretty - it was a nice change of pace from the usual catcalls and the hot and cold with Oscar. Pretty. It was simple, sweet.

“Oh, well, thank you,” she glanced down at the crumpled resume in her hand, “Trey. Let me check with the boss if we’re hiring,”

She headed to the back toward the office to check in with the boss. She had recently discovered, when she dropped a crate of glass soda bottles and didn’t know what to do, that the ‘office’ was a small, matchbox sized room with nothing but a couple of milk crates for chairs and an old landline phone.

The Boss, it turned out, was never actually there. He was a big businessman that lived in some place called Brentwood and had acquired the store in a business deal. He didn’t put a lot of effort into it, and would never degrade himself to come in person, so instead had set up a direct line to his work mobile in case of emergencies. So Mari called him and though he wasn’t happy to be reminded of this bad investment, he agreed to hire the boy, Trey, even if just to get her off the phone.

“When can you start?” She asked.

“We’re officially moved in on Friday,” he said with an excited smile. Mari couldn’t help but notice he doesn’t have dimples, like Oscar does when he smiles at her.

“Can you come in on Sunday for a training shift?”

“Yes! Absolutely, yes!” He beamed. “Will you be the one training me?”

Mari nodded. “Sunday, then?”

Trey smiled with a pleased nod.

“Sunday,” he agreed. He gave her a wave and a goofy smile as he left.

Call her conceited but she liked how much he liked her. It made her feel confident and beautiful that he was so unashamed, so easy to read about his attraction. That was what she needed.

Spooky, though he made her feel gorgeous in the dead of night when no one was around, couldn’t seem to like her like that. Everything with Oscar was so intense - he has feelings but they have to be a secret, they hook up but it has to be a secret. Last night was amazing and she thought that nothing could be more perfect, but things look different in the dark and now, in the light of day, what happened between them felt more like a dirty secret.

Of course she took some of the blame, she pushed him after he told her how he felt, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t expecting him to fight for her after that. She felt naive and she hated it. She didn’t want to feel like a child, and she didn’t want this dead air to hang between her and Oscar - all she wanted was someone to care for her and keep her out in the light.

She decided to close up early that day. She was exhausted and far too kist in her thoughts to deal with the four customers that had come by, plus she had to stop by the pharmacy on the way home before it closed.

That alone seemed like too big of a chore, but she managed to drag herself to the nearest pharmacy. She handed in her prescription and waited as they got it ready, walking aimlessly down the aisles and snickering at off-brands that were far too on-the-nose.

Something caught her eye as she passed through the feminine hygiene aisle. It was stupid, she knew it was, but that doctor was inside her head and she was paranoid that all her worst nightmares were coming true. Unable to talk herself out of it fast enough, she grabbed a cheap, at-home pregnancy test just as they called her name.

She paid for the test and the prescription and then she used her phone to find the nearest public toilets. Her phone was so slow and froze so often that it would’ve been faster to just go home, but speed wasn’t her concern. She didn’t want Geny and Ruben to find out that she had sex and make any assumptions about her situation. She didn’t need that drama right now.

So she found a dirty public toilet, got comfy in a cubicle that was far too narrow and peed on a stick. Her heart pounded as she set a timer for five minutes and read and reread the instructions. Two lines, pregnant. One line, not pregnant.

Her phone started buzzing and she checked the stick. No result. She looked at her phone to extend the timer, but when she looked she saw it wasn’t the timer making her phone go off - she was getting a call from an unknown number. The phone may not have recognised the number, but Mari sure did. It belonged to her mother’s boyfriend, the man that supplied her mother with enough drugs to keep her happy and complicit. The man who ruined Mari’s life.

She couldn’t deal with this right now. She felt sick again, though this time she only wished it was food poisoning. She terminated the call and tried to distract herself with the instructions again. Two lines, pregnant. One line, not pregnant.

Finally the timer went off. Mari took a deep breath and looked at the stick.

One line.

.

Taglist: @grayberrydolan @lostgirl219 @kseniainneverland @ravengreystone @weediskindabad @moistdollerbills @javoqetal @kenzie44469 @goddessate @blackdepressoexpresso @classyputa @babygirl-htx @wonderlandlovelove @cacapoodlepoo @agent-femmefatale @elliesshitofablog @daydreamer0307 @lucyfuh @harduy @elizabeth-santana-98 @lonelyyblues

[garbagequeer]

what are your favorite cshr songs?

i change my mind a lot and can’t make decisions so im just gonna go album by album picking my favorites because there’s A LOT of great songs (also these are in no particular order cause i really am a gemini who can’t make a simple choice). when im done with this i’ll bold the ones i guess are my overall favorites but i have too much room in my heart and brain and i love all of them and i can’t not mention all the great songs that i love. Also my overall favorites change all the time hence the full long ass list. again i AM a gemini

teens of denial:

drunk drivers obviously (and drunk drives single version with the modified verse from plane crash blues like. if you cant find your friends you can leave without them !! so much)

destroyed by hippie powers (which holds a special place in my heart cause i remember listening to it 24/7 and going to the bar with my friends during second term finals my first year of college instead of studying and then the year after that going to see csh also during second term finals and them playing it like. full circle baby)

not what i needed. i feel so empty trying to explain this!

1937 state park

unforgiving girl (also holds a special place in my heart cause im pretty sure it’s the song that got me into them after being like hey i should check out that car seat headrest band since like 2013 but never getting around to it)

the ballad of the costa concordia like. i love to die thank you

drugs with friends (also it feels 5 times more special to me since i saw them play it)

fill in the blank

literally i feel bad for not just putting every song from this album like i love them all they punch me in the face every time but. gotta move along.

how to leave town:

BEAST MONSTER THING (LOVE ISN’T LOVE ENOUGH) LIKE. WHAT? WHAT?? !!!!

i want you to know that im awake / i hope that you’re asleep. you know that quote from like. an article about greta gerwig and lady bird that’s like (wait i googled it):Every situation is pretext for a confrontation: underdone eggs, a pile of rumpled clothes, a hand reaching too quickly for the radio. The question on the surface might be ‘What did you do?’ but the feeling underneath is ‘Who are you and why don’t you know how to love me?’that’s this song

is this dust really from the titanic? mainly cause i think it’s underrated and very endearing like. car seat headrest: more guitar shit

hey space cadet. obviously like

wasn’t going to put more songs cause i think i need to relax but. the ending of dramamine deserves to be listed i mean i can’t hear a thing now i guess i belong to me now but when night fell on montana i found a rest stop completely deserted but i still felt the eyes upon me so i drove away. it BE like that

you know what? fuck it. america and kimochi warui are also favorites. they’re all so good im sorry i CANT do this

nervous young man:

first of all: i wanna sweat. it’s like. you CAN have the euphoric emotion of bodys outside of the fantasy. effervescent amazing uplifting etc etc

burning man. i will go crazy istg like he’s like im defined by the fact that you’re there and we’re different people… i wanna burn your picture! i mean…… yeah

plane crash blues i mean shut up with all these bad vibes all this yelling just shut up shut up shut up! like. to himself.. we get it. and if your luggage is lost you can leave without it and if you run out of drugs you can sleep without them and if you wanna go home you can call a taxi and if you don’t wanna talk you can sit in the backseat. much to think about

death at the movies. sometimes you’re a little depressed and you just. watch movies and it’s weird

boxing day. hand will toledo a womanhood card right now for this like yeah! i feel so haunted and no one seems to notice and no one seems to care!!!! and it doesn’t really matter I’ll just ajlhfsdg!!!. ALSO literally i did something bad im not allowed to go outside anymore i can only be awake at night for the next year of my life. been there done that and all. ALSO i have worms in mouse traps baby cracks me up every time

the gun song. there’s a lot going on there

afterglow and jerks cause i love to have fun too

monomania:

misheard lyrics and i don’t think it gets enough love

times to die and also the teens of style version

overexposed (enjoy). again i love fun

los borrachos (fun fact: i saw the painting it’s named after irl and i was like. sick csh reference museo del prado)

SOULS. !!!!

maud gone both versions. sweetheart please love me too long

sleeping with strangers. i love to have fun

anchorite (love you very much). i get my feelings hurt by someone i love i listen to this song like. YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! call it catharsis

and that’s literally the whole album except for one song. im sorry

twin fantasy (which is two albums but. it’s really just one which is very meta of it/them imo. also unless i specify im talking about both versions):

B O D Y S

famous prophets. both versions make me feel breathless

beach life-in-death OBVIOUSLY

twin fantasy (those boys) and i think both versions really mean so so much together which is true of all of twin fantasy but. particularly here it hits me like. from he has only lyrics now to these are only lyrics now. it’s a lot

my boy (more the 2018 version)

nervous young inhumans (the 2011 version. for the monologue like. he defined twin fantasy. also the fact that galvanistic isn’t a real word he just fucked up and that’s the chorus)

high to death (more the 2018 version but both are great)

honestly sober to death for the don’t worry you and me wont be alone no more which is. so much. ALSO when they play sober to death/powderfinger and ethan does great vocals

cute thing (2018)

my back is killing me baby

no passion. he wants a man who would hate him and who would leave him if he were open and he’d do the same to him. he dreams he watches porn but he cant see it. he understands some ugly ass feelings

father, flesh in rags. it bangs

strangers but the teens of style version

happy news for sadness cause once again he says the ugliest shit (i liked you better when you hated yourself every time i think about love i think about me thinking about you) and it makes me think of that shit about how people will disclose they think they’re bad and they have bad thoughts when they’re going to ask to be loved. also you can never tell the truth but you can tell something that sounds like it

the drum. did i say i love to have fun? i love to have fun (both versions but i think i like the original more at least rn)

stoop kid

something soon (both versions)

starving while living:

it’s only sex

reuse the cells

devil moon

i hate living

literally all other csh shit cause i don’t listen to many songs from the first records :/ and stuff:

i can talk with my eyes shut

the ghost of bob saget. the lyrics to this song are hilarious and relatable somehow

i have to mention i am afraid of literally everything / i scream social / this one time I went to a coffee house because some guy I knew was playing and I just sat there for an hour and didn’t talk to anyone and then I came home and wrote this song / you have to go to college / it’s you you’re the asshole that made this but literally only cause i felt like laughing when i was 18 and finally got around to checking out csh and he was like. i wrote these songs about when i went to college and i was afraid of everything and shit was hard. cause like. same. and i just have a fond memory of going through csh’s entire discography from newest to oldest and ending up awake till almost 7am losing my mind. i feel like this about lots of songs from the first 5 albums but i don’t really listen to them much tho. someday i’ll get around to giving them a chance again

that thing someone made where they put together pain star (if heaven is full of people…) and …then it will be exactly the same as earth

does it feel good (to say goodbye?)

and their cover of hey ya even though it’s not a csh song. im mad no one has posted a proper recording of it because i do love to have fun. also their cover of this must be the place too. and the cover of waves of fear also. they’re all really fun