#er. change the world. my final message. goodbye.

[butchdykekondraki]

yo we prolly wont be on too long today im gonna be travelin for 12 hours straight and wont have like any wifi or connection or anythang for most of those hours. lollll. ok buh-bye. hope you all enjoy the queue xoxo gossip girl or whatever idk how cyrus ends these posts

[randomattorney]

About the last ShinEva movie and KawoShin

My friend wrote this and I’m posting it here as a message to you:

I see people crying and bitching already and just want to tell you this if you  read the leak spoil/ers already about Kaworu’s motivation and what’s going on in this movie. This is to explain  how KawoShin is still canon and if you thought otherwise you are wrong

First of all, Kaworu is not obsessed with Shinji’s happiness in a yandere way. What happens is simply that Kaworu was trying to find his happiness through finding Shinji’s happiness. He wasn’t selfish and no one ever says this word in the script, on the contrary, he was too selfless because he kept dying over and over for Shinji and that left Shinji catatonic and wanting to die too as happens in the first hour of the new movie. Shinji keeps getting flashbacks to Kaworu’s death and is reminded of this everytime he sees Asuka wearing the DSS choker. He vomits everytime and refuses to eat or drink. He’s letting himself die here, and doing it in a slow painful way because he thinks he should have died instead of Kaworu.

Rebuild Shinji and Kaworu, in this universe, turn out to be NGE Shinji and Kaworu, they already said they loved eachother in the anime, so their love is still here in Rebuild. Kaworu remembers every time they met and Shinji gets his past memories.

Kaworu tried over and over, because he loved Shinji and made Shinji the focus of his purpose in life and happiness, to meet him over and over everytime a loop happened.

Shinji appreciates this obviously because he loves Kaworu too as he said in NGE, but this is not his happiness and Kaworu misunderstood, because Kaworu dying and suffering is something Shinji doesn’t want.

Shinji compares him to Gendo, as in that he made him and only him the focus of his life just like Gendo made Yui and only Yui the focus of his life. There are other parallels here to Kaworu. A connection to Gendo playing the piano and being lonely until he fell in love with Yui. This comparison is also one to Shinji and Kaworu’s love being real.

It’s said that Kaworu chose Shinji because he never changed no matter what, but at the same time, Qworu was able to form connections with others, in this case, with Kaji since they both were working to stop Seele/Nerv and worked for  Wille together, and having experienced that, at the same time, he’s glad that Shinji changed. Kaworu secretly wanted change too. He wants to be free too because he too is aware that no matter what he can’t escape his fate, but he’s powerless, there’s nothing he can do.

Shinji realizes that nor Kaworu nor anyone here is is control of the Eva world, and that the loops just happen and that as long as Kaworu is an angel/Adam he’ll be forced to repeat over and over and suffer over and over.

This goes for Rei too. The Eva world can’t be changed, it’s doomed to end in tragedy every time. As long as this Eva world exists, Kaworu and Shinji can’t be happy.

He talks with both Rei and Asuka separately and has closure with them and their relationship too.

In their instrumentality sequence, Shinji and Kaworu met in the same beach of ep 24 and say goodbye while Shinji (as a kid) holds Kaworu’s hands and Kaworu cries tears of happiness.

In the end, while Shinji and Kaworu loved eachother, sadly, they would never be able to be happy in a world with Evas, because as I said, that world will always end in tragedy. This doesn’t invalidate their love and it doesn’t invalidate the nice cute and canon moments they shared in NGE and 3.0

As true star-crossed lovers, the universe is the real problem in this relationship. It’s outside forces what stops them from being together.

Since the universe is what is making Kaworu (and everyone else but we’ll focus on Kaworu) suffer, Shinji creates a new world where Evas don't exist so he can be free.

In this new world Shinji wears the DSS choker, that before gave him ptsd, to pay for his sins and the sins of his father. He waits years, more than 14, waiting just like Kaworu waited for him, to see with his own eyes if Kaworu made it to the new world and if he’s happy (Kaworu died for good in 3.0, Shinji talks to his soul in instrumentality and all that so he’s waiting to confirm that he was reborn as human). Shinji, now being like 30 to 40 years old, sees a young adult Kaworu (talking to Rei but the focus in on Kaworu smiling) and finally smiles after so long. Mari appears and takes the DSS choker from him. Now that Shinji knows that Kaworu (Rei too) is happy and free from the loops and his horrible fate, he allows himself to move on. He and Mari turn around and leave (the scene implies this new world is our real world where Evas don’t exist)

I still have problems with this movie, but don’t panic and say that KawoShin is destroyed or non existent. They just couldn’t be together because of stuff that wasn’t in their control.

Here you can choose to do one of two things:

You can believe that now in this new world without Evangelion, without loops and all that, Shinji and Kaworu, maybe not now because Shinji’s older and stays with Mari, but in the future once they are reborn once more after this, that they’ll find each other again and now, with no universe or pre destined fate  ruining everything, they’ll be happy together, be it as friends or lovers.

Or

You can accept this story is over and move on from Evangelion. Appreciate it for what it is and appreciate the conclusion. Or you may not like the conclusion or aspects of it or the movie, that’s ok too.

But KawoShin is and was still canon.

[thelargefrye]

GRIMOIRE: TALE OF TALES. DAY 13.

── summary. the circus is a mysterious place, don’t believe everything you see.

── roles. circus performers!ateez, circus performer!reader

── genres. circus, supernatural, established poly relationship

── word count. 4.3k

── warnings. cussing, slight harassment (nothing too serious, goes with the next warning), the word “freak” gets used, brief nudity (nonsexual), getting eaten alive, blood, some body gore at the very end

── main menu.

── message. the inspiration and dedication for this story goes to @seacottons​ so credit for some aspects of my story goes to them. their’s is way better than mine please go read it!

“now, i hoped you all enjoyed the show but unfortunately we have reached the end of the show,” the house lets out a chorus of disappointment making hongjoong laugh lightheartedly. “but do not be sad, for i have one last performance for you all,” he says, quickly getting the crowd to quiet down.

you stood off to the side near the entrance that all the performers had used to enter and exit, along with all the props that they had used. your sparkling blue one piece feeling scratchy on your skin and the fishnet tights are cutting into your thighs. no matter how many times you have performed, you still can’t help but feel nervous. thankfully, you feel a set of hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“you look beautiful, my flower. blue is definitely your color,” san’s voice is deep sounding and his breath hits your ear as he speaks right into it. 

“you say that about every single color i wear,” you reply back teasingly, you’re glad san decided to come talk to you because you are starting to feel a little less nervous.

“because it’s true,” he says back and presses a kiss to your cheek, “break a leg, y/n.”

“ladies and gentlemen! i present to you… wonderland’s flower!” hongjoong announces and you make your way over to where hongjoong was. you allowed a smile to grace your face as the house clapped for you. there were a few loud wolf whistles that sounded throughout the tent, but you ignored them as it was common by now to hear them.

hongjoong holds a white gloved hand out to you which you happily take and you watch his eyes flash an inhumanly blue before it fades and he hands you the microphone. he kisses your own gloved hand before letting it go and stepping away before making his exit from the ring. 

the lights dimmed, letting a single light shine solely on you as the music began to play throughout the tent. 

it was whirring away in the distance the faint light i'm thinking of moving there like there is not

as if asking who you are when it blinks i have my eyes closed pray to meet you

you watch as the crowd’s eyes all begin to change. their excited expressions now turning tired as you continue to sing.

there, along the bright light we now two you came to me on the shining day a long pain even with darkness we gon' light up towards farther shining places we gonna shine-er

getting closer one step at a time the closer you go we have confidence it's the original one

you felt your lips twitch into a faint smile as you watch small balls of light start to form from everyone in the crowd and leave their bodies.

my shine light true light came with destiny looking at each other in the night sky starlight the moment i looked at each other the dark nights are falling we shine in it

“ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, i hope you had a wonderful time here in the promised wonderland,” you began saying. your voice echoing into the heads of those watching you, “but i’m afraid this will be our last show. please make sure to gather all belongings and parents make sure you don’t lose your kids. because once you leave this tent, you will forget everything you saw.” 

you began singing once again, skipping the verse that was supposed to come next due to you making your exit speech.

in this dream i met in a dream fantasy i do not want to stop this fantasy i dreamed i can not breathe here we let them in take a deep breath new dimensional trip

you sang the rest of the song without pausing and as soon as you stopped and the music faded, everyone got up at once and made their way out of the tent without a word. once the last person was out, the large curtains of the tent closed and that’s when you finally turned to exit the tent.

the workers were quick to start packing things onto the train and hongjoong’s booming voice only fueled them to go faster. props, animals, and equipment all loaded into their respective train cars. you rushed over to your own train car you shared with hongjoong and seonghwa, and was happy to see the eldest of the performers sitting at his small desk.

“seonghwa,” you earn his attention and he sends you a smile as you begin to take off your show outfit. “did i do a good job tonight?” you asked him, making him smile at you as he nods his head.

“of course you did. hongjoong is very proud of you, my flower. he’s very pleased with the souls you collected from tonight,” he tells you, his eyes following you intently as you move around the car in order to put on more comfortable clothing. 

you take this opportunity to look at him to find that he was still in his show outfit except with his jacket hanging over his chair and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. 

“it’s not nice to stare, y/n,” he teases, making you flush a little as you look from him in order to button up your own shirt. well... it was actually yunho, but since his shirts are so silky and airy that you can’t help but to steal and wear them. 

you let out a small laugh as you feel a wave of tiredness wash over your form. performing into front of big audiences like that always did tire you out quickly. a bad side effect that happens when you hypnotize humans. you walk over to seonghwa before straddling his lap and the two of you look at each other with matching love-filled eyes before you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder after kissing him.

“i forget that performing wears you out,” seonghwa says, although you felt it was more to himself than to you, so only let out a soft hm-mm in response. “go lay down on the bed, dear,” he says rubbing your back but you only whine.

“i want to rest here, in your lap and arms,” you say and seonghwa is quickly to allow you to do as you please before he continues going back to what he was doing before you entered. you close your eyes letting out a deep breath as you allow sleep to consume you.

hongjoong finally enters the car an hour later after making sure everything was loaded and everyone was where they were supposed to be. soon enough the train starts to move which causes him to move forward a little bit. he’s greeted by the sight of you sleeping soundly in seonghwa’s arms as he counts out the money they had earned for tonight’s show.

slipping his jacket off, hongjoong walks over and presses a kiss to the older man’s cheek before kissing the crown of your head. 

“tonight was a great show, yeah?” seonghwa spoke after several minutes of them sitting in silence. hongjoong was unbuttoning his shirt which slowly revealed his lean chest that seonghwa couldn’t help but admire. 

“it was,” hongjoong began, “the house was full of excitement which always makes for a good meal,” he adds and puts on a clean shirt and pants. he lays down on the bed, feeling tired from having to host the show and make everything went smoothly for everyone else. 

hongjoong was about to drift off to sleep himself before the door to the car slid open so loudly and harshly that it scared hongjoong and made him sit up, but also startled you awake making you cling onto seonghwa for comfort.

“wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you!” seonghwa furrows his eyebrows as he turns to the acrobatic who is rushing into the car over to him and you.

“y/n! y/n! y/n! me and the others are gonna play pirates and we need you,” wooyoung was pulling on your arm in an attempt to get you to agree and stand up quicker.

“no way! i don’t like playing pirates with you, you always play unfairly,” you say ripping your arm away from him. the blond pouts at you before letting out an annoyed sigh.

“you can be with yunho and yeosang for this game,” wooyoung says, trying to get you to agree to come with him. he can see how you think about it for a second before moving off of seonghwa’s lap to stand up. wooyoung beams at you before grabbing your hand and dragging you with him out of the car and into the next one.

“why didn’t he ask us to play?” hongjoong asks after realizing that the younger male didn’t bother asking or acknowledging the eldest two.

“because i hate that game and you’re too competitive,” seonghwa says as he turns back to writing.

hongjoong huffs a little bit before speaking, “am not.”

“are too.” hongjoong only rolled his eyes before laying back to finally get some sleep.

when the train arrived in the next town a week later, mingi was quick to drag you and yunho off the train and into town in order to explore. you were a little sad he didn’t give you a chance to give jongho a goodbye kiss, but you had promised to spend more time with him when you returned.

walking through the new town, you couldn’t help smile and laugh at how happy mingi seemed to be. he always enjoyed exploring the towns you all stopped at, it was a great way to learn more about the world you all forced to be a part of. 

you were honestly glad mingi was always so excited to explore. finding his curiosity cute and the way his eyes sparkled when he learned something new always warmed your heart. you on the other hand weren’t really that interested in learning about the humans and their world. you were happy as long as you were with your lovers and not having to stay in one place for too long. 

“should we get some cookies for the others?” mingi’s question snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to him with a nod. he smiles before quickly running to where the bakery was with you and yunho trailing behind him. 

“what were you thinking about?” yunho’s voice is quiet as he leans closer to your ear as you both wait outside for mingi. 

“how cute mingi is when we come to a new town,” you say and yunho laughs nodding agreement.

“i know. his face lights up and his smile is so big. it makes me want to protect him forever,” yunho says and you can’t help but agree with him as well.

the two of you watch as workers from the train start appearing around the streets in order to promote you all. you look to see the familiar large red and white tent peeking up over the tree line before turning back just as mingi exits the bakery, a bag of cookies in his hand.

“alright! let’s go back!” mingi cheers before the three of you go back to the train and the circus that was quickly being set up.

a few days later and it was time for another show. some people had showed up early in order to look around to see what else the circus had to offer and you and san walked around, arm in arm, to make sure everything was going well outside. 

the two of you were about to go back to the others to prepare before you noticed a group of guys crowding around one of the workers. 

“san…” you trail off tugging on his sleeve and pointing towards the worker. san glares before making his way over to see what was going on. you couldn’t help but follow after him, because the last thing you need was for him to cause unwanted trouble right before the show.

“what’s wrong with you freak?” one of the guys asked, pointing his index finger harshly into the worker’s shoulder. “does the freak not know how to talk?” he questions, making the other guys snicker.

“hey!” san calls out earning their attention, “can i help you guys with something?”

“huh? who are you, punk?”

“i’m one of the owners of this circus,” san said as he stopped walking and you stopped right behind him. you made eye contact with the worker and gestured for them to quickly leave which they did. 

you were glad that you saw what was going on before it took a turn for the worst. most of the workers didn’t know how to speak any of the human languages, so if they spoke then it would come out as an incoherent mess to human ears which would have further provoked these guys. once the worker was out of sight, you turned back to san and the guys only to make eye contact with one of them. the guy smirked at you, looking at you up and down which prompted you to roll your eyes at him.

“...and i would appreciate it if you didn’t bother my workers. if you need help, go to the help desk at the entrance, not someone who is trying to do their job. and i would also like for your friends to stop gawking at my lady,” san’s jaw is clenched at the sight of having these guys stare at you.

“why can’t i look at her? she’s probably just another unwanted freak, so there’s nothing wrong with looking,” the what you assumed to be the leader of the group says with his friends nodding in agreement. “that’s all you circus people are good for anyway.”

“you watch your fucking mouth,” san says, getting ready to charge at the guy but you hold him back. 

“san, they aren’t worth it. come on, we need to get ready,” you say, making san huff in anger as he pulls away from you and turns around, his hand coming out to guide you away from the unwanted and troublesome eyes. their laugh echoing through your skull the further you walk away. 

“i’m gonna kill those fucking humans,” san says as he practically rips his shirt off as he tries to take it off. some of his buttons fly off and roll around on the floor. you frown as you watch one roll underneath the bed. 

“san, it’s fine. don’t worry about them, after tonight we’ll never see them again and they even remember us,” you say sitting down on the bed, his outfit in your hands waiting to hand it off to him.

“you didn’t see how they were fucking you with their eyes. fucking humans, i hate them so damn much, it kills me. fuck!” he says, eyes burning red as he punches the wall next to him. 

“san! calm down!” you hiss, standing up, you can’t see them but you’re sure your eyes are also glowing a golden color. that’s what happens when you let your emotions overwhelm you. san glares at you before letting out an annoyed sigh as turns away from you. 

he takes his shirt off, tossing it to the side before undoing his pants and sliding them off, his underwear comes off soon after. you honestly never understood why he and wooyoung – you’re pretty sure yeosang does it too – preferred going commando, but you assumed it only felt comfortable or something. he turns around and neither of you say a word as you watch him slip into his outfit. his red, black, and silver leotard fitting him perfectly and he moves to put his shoes on and before he could leave, you quickly reach out and stop him. he looks at you as you push him down onto the bed before hovering over him. 

“don’t leave me upset,” you say looking at him, he watches as your eyes become rimmed in the golden color. his hand comes to card through your hair before he gently brings you down for your lips to meet his.

the two of you end up kissing until yunho comes in and startles the both of you with his loud voice. “come on san, go finish getting ready with wooyoung,” he says as you move to sit up so san can go get his makeup and hair done.

once san is gone, you notice yunho is halfway dressed. him not needing anything over the top as his ‘magic’ does all the extravagant work for him. he comes to sit down next to you and you immediately let your head rest on his shoulder.

“one of the workers told me and the others about those humans that were bothering them and how you and san handled the situation.”

“you mean the situation that almost caused san to rip them apart? then yeah sure, it was handled,” you say sarcastically making the male chuckle a little bit.

“i’ll make sure to keep an eye out,” he says before standing up and turns to look at you. his eyes immediately squint as he takes in what you’re wearing. “is that my shirt?” he asks and you look at him in surprise. 

you shake your head, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say looking away from him, making him only laugh again.

“if you say so my flower,” he says, leaning down to kiss you before turning and leaving. you bid each other bye before he closes the door leaving you alone in the train car. 

you find yourself thinking for a few moments before you stand up and make your way out of the train car and over to the worker than was in charge of the music that would play during your performance. the worker immediately turned to you, sensing your form approaching them as they bowed slightly in greeting. 

“play number five today,” you told them and they nodded making the quick adjustments that were needed in order for the right track to play. you thank them and they bow slightly once more before you turn to leave in order to get ready. 

you once more hear the echoing of laughter as you walk towards your train car knowing that it would be the last time they laughed.

“you’re... you’re performing that song tonight?” yeosang’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you turn to look at him. he was already changed out of his outfit, having been one of the first ones to perform tonight, but his hair was still pulled back in a small ponytail that it is usually in whenever he performs. he likes his hair long, but the hassle of seeing while performing is the only downside he often says. “did those humans really piss you off that much? or is it because they made san upset?”

“i think you already know,” you answer, making him grin as he lets out a small hum. 

“now, i hoped you all enjoyed the show but unfortunately we have reached the end of the show,” the familiar words ring throughout the tent and the usual response from the house is heard. “but do not be sad, for i have one last performance for you all,” he says, and the house immediately goes quiet as he speaks. 

yeosang bids you good luck before quickly disappearing and you turn to see your dancers all lined up and statue-like. if you didn’t know what they were, you would have thought they were statues. they wore all black in contrast to your silver one, and black silk cloths covered their eyes… well to be honest they don’t have eyes so the cloth is a way to not expose the whole circus to the humans.

“ladies and gentlemen! i present to you… wonderland’s flower!” the crowd cheers as you take graceful steps into the ring in order to meet hongjoong. he looked at you the most beautiful thing to come from existence as he took in your appearance. the familiar and spine chilling blue rimming in his eyes and his smile grew as he saw yours sparkle with gold. 

hongjoong kisses your hand like he always does before turning to make his exit, the dancers passing him as the come to stand behind you.

the lights dim down greatly before they slowly change into a deep artificial blue color that drowns you and the ring in the color. your eyes scan the crowd before landing on the men from earlier who are undoubtedly looking at you like a piece of meat. you hear ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as the music starts.

as the intro begins you remain in place, the dancers effortlessly dancing to music like it's the only thing they know how to do. the crowd watches in awe at how they move before they snap their attention to one, once you begin to sing. 

way that i move got the whole world watchin’ i’m in a mood and i don’t wanna hide it blue chills and white shivers i’m ice cold, baby on an ocean of glitter

you always did think the lyrics had an odd tone to it considering the only time you really only used this song.

it rains out of control these chains don’t have a hold on me don’t say, i’m a sinner i’m ice cold, baby on an ocean of glitter

you watch as the audience begins to lose the light to their eyes as they continue to watch and listen to you. your voice echoing and throbbing and crashing around in their heads, your eyes slowly turning gold as they stand out from the blue light. the only people in the audience that aren’t affected are the four men who slowly begin to notice the change in atmosphere in the house.

they watch in shock at how balls of light leave all the audience members and disappear to a place they can’t see from their seats. 

feelin’ the danger in every motion don’t be a stranger to your emotion truth hurts but lies wither i’m ice cold, baby on an ocean of glitter

“ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, i hope you had a wonderful time here in the promised wonderland,” you began saying. your voice echoing into the heads of those watching you. the four men beginning to slowly grow fearful of what was happening around them, “but i’m afraid this will be our last show. please make sure to gather all belongings and parents make sure you don’t lose your kids. because once you leave this tent, you will forget everything you saw. expect... you four,” you point to them and you watch their eyes go wide at how you pointed to them.

you near the end of the song and suddenly like always, the audience all get up silently and leave in a quiet fashion. the curtain closes behind the last of the audience and the four males can only watch in horror as they try their best to stand up and run away but it was useless.

“you four… better run for your life.”

you step onto the train car that you share with hongjoong and seonghwa a happy smile on your face as you walk over to your eldest lover and drape your arms over his shoulders from behind. seonghwa notices from the small desk mirror the blood on your face as you lick your lips, eyes full on gold making him smirk at your reflection.

“did you have fun?” he asks although he is sure he knows the answer. you nod as you straighten up and walk over to change your clothes. “it’s been a while since i heard that song,” he says as he hums the familiar tune while bobbing his head from side to side. you laugh at him finding this little action cute. “i forget how scary you can get whenever someone upsets one of us.” 

“of course, no one upsets my loves and gets away with it,” you tease with a smile. you smile absentmindedly as you sit on the bed thinking of the four males that had upset san earlier today. 

“it had been a while since the dancers ate, no?” seonghwa asks and you nod your head thinking of the eyeless statue humanoids that usually remain in one of the last few cars on the train. 

“they’ll eat good tonight,” you said as you twirled a piece of your hair just as hongjoong entered the car. he greeted seonghwa with a brief kiss before he began to change his clothes. you, however, were too lost in thought about what was going on in the last train car that you couldn’t help the sick looking smile and laugh that escaped past your lips.

“no! no! please no, god!” one of the males screamed as he watched as the eyeless creatures ripped apart his friends with their inhumanely sharpe teeth and equally as dangerous claws. one of the creatures snapped their head in his direction at the sounds of his cries. they stood up and made their way over to him in slow steps that made the guy coward in fear as he tried to scoot away from the monster that was nearing him. the creature let out a hissful-screech before lunging at the guy and ripping into his throat.

you continued to laugh and smile hysterically at the thought of the humans being ripped apart. the laughter no longer echoing in your mind, but instead screams and begs for mercy. 

[jaybear1701]

Pam can only stare wide-eyed at Ellen, wondering if she’s in a dream.

There’s no moon dust or space suits or a vast expanse of stars. And yet, somehow, Ellen standing in her classroom--nervous and expectant and achingly beautiful in gray slacks and a simple white blouse--feels even more surreal. She can’t bring herself to speak, afraid that if she makes an attempt, Ellen will vanish and Pam will once again wake up alone in the darkness of her bedroom.

“I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue like this,” Ellen breaks the silence. “But I was hoping we could talk?”

Pam’s lips part, but for someone who prides herself on her ability to capture the right words and construct them into the perfect turn of phrase, she’s still speechless. Each resounding thud against her ribs pumps out conflicting emotions into her buzzing bloodstream, surprise and confusion, elation and dread.

“Pam?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Somehow, Pam strings together a coherent sentence, her voice scratchy and low.

Ellen’s shoulders droop. “You know that’s not true.” She takes a tentative step closer, treating Pam like some skittish animal ready to bolt, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth. “Please, just five minutes.”

“I don’t really have time--”

“Five minutes,” Ellen repeats, firmer. “Hear me out, and then you’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to.”

Self-preservation demands that Pam refuses. In the long run, it’d be better for them both to sever ties, clean and fast, without dragging things out. But she can’t, not with the way Ellen’s imploring her with those disarming brown eyes. Her heart won’t let her.

“Fine,” Pam acquiesces. “Five minutes. But not here.”

“Okay,” Ellen exhales in relief.

Unsteadily, Pam pushes up from her desk to stand, grabbing her messenger bag and slinging its strap over her shoulder. She exits the classroom with Ellen in tow, and heads toward her office.

A million questions swirl in Pam’s head. Why are you here? How did you even know where to find me? But she bites her tongue. The hallways of the community college aren’t the place to air things out. Ellen follows her wordlessly, maintaining a respectful distance as she glances furtively at Pam out of the corner of her eye. They’re halfway to her office when someone calls out for Pam.

“Ms. H!”

One of her first-year students, Valerie, rushes to catch up to them with a fistful of papers in hand. “I forgot to give you a draft of my manuscript before the final.” She comes to an abrupt stop when she notices Pam has company, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you’re Ellen Wilson!”

Ellen’s brows shoot up, still surprised when someone recognizes her despite more than a decade in the public eye. “Oh, yes, that’s me.” She offers a hand that Valerie shakes with great enthusiasm “Hi, um....”

“Valerie. But everyone calls me Val.”

“Nice to meet you, Val.”

“Wow.” Val runs a hand through the unshaved side of her red hair. “You know an astronaut?” She asks Pam incredulously. “How on earth do you know an astronaut?!”

“Long story,” Pam replies with a taut smile.

“I’ll bet.” Val says, starstruck. “I saw you on TV when I was a kid, catching that tank. You’re amazing!”

Smiling sheepishly, Ellen ducks her head. “Thank you. Feels like it was a lifetime ago now.”

“I’ll bet. And, hey, sorry to hear you left NASA.”

Pam’s stomach bottoms out as her head snaps toward Ellen. “You what?” She shakes her head, unsure she heard correctly.

Ellen’s eyes slide to Pam briefly before focusing back on Valerie. “It was the right time.”

Val shrugs. “Gotta know when to fold ‘em. Do you know what you’ll do now?”

“Oh, you know, just take it easy while I weigh some options.” Ellen shifts her weight from one foot to another, nonchalant, like it’s no big deal. Like she didn’t just walk away from a hard-earned career and upward mobility.

Pam’s head swims at the revelation, knees wobbly, but manages to change the subject. “You said you have your manuscript, Valerie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Val hands over her papers. “Thanks again for taking a look.”

“No problem.” Pam slides the manuscript into her bag, hoping the tremor in her hands isn’t too obvious.

“What’s it about?” Ellen asks politely.

“Oh,” Val grins, flattered, tucking her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket. “Just my humble contribution to the cyberpunk genre. You ever watch Blade Runner?”

“I did! It was, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah! Well, it’s similar to that. Though I’m guessing you’re more into Ms. H’s sci-fi.”

“You write science fiction?” Ellen asks Pam, curious.

“Ms. H, you should tell her about your story about the astronauts exploring Mars.”

Ellen’s eyebrows rise slowly, and Pam coughs to hide the blush she already knows is heating her cheeks. “Some other time, maybe,” Pam says. “I’ll touch base with you after the holidays?”

“That’d be great.” Valerie grins. “Thanks again, Ms. H. And nice meeting you, Mrs. Wilson. Er, Commander.”

“Just Ellen will do,” Ellen chuckles, waving goodbye to the retreating student. “So,” Ellen says as they resume walking. “You’re writing about Martian explorers?”

“You’ve got five minutes. Do you really want to spend it talking about my work?” Pam retorts, face still flushed, when they finally reach her office.

Ellen doesn’t respond as Pam unlocks the door, turns on the light, and leads them inside. “Have a seat.” She maneuvers behind her desk and sits, already feeling more at ease in her own space, like she can recapture a modicum of control over her warring emotions. In red, glowing numbers, the answering machine by her phone shows she has about half a dozen messages waiting.

If Ellen’s nervous or uncomfortable on Pam’s turf, she doesn’t show it while she drinks in the small office, taking in the framed diplomas on the walls, crammed bookshelves, and stacks of paper on her desk. She lowers herself into the chair across from Pam.

“I’m not really sure where to start.” Ellen folds her hands in her lap, gaze determined and unwavering. “So I’ll start by saying this: I’m not here to upset you, though I can tell by the look on your face I already have. But, please believe me when I say that’s the last thing I ever want. Okay?”

“Okay.” Pam can already feel her pulse starting to accelerate.

Ellen takes a deep breath. “I wanted… I needed to see you. To understand why you left.”

Pam’s chest instantly clenches in response. There was a reason she hadn’t wanted to see Ellen, who could read her so well she’d know instantly that Pam was lying. “I explained it in my letter.” Schooling her expression, she sticks with the same narrative.

“You said your heart still belongs to Elise.”

Pam inclines her head forward. That is what she wrote, after all.

“Then why aren’t you with her.” It’s not a question.

It feels like all the air has rushed out of the room, and Pam thinks this is the closest she’ll ever come to experiencing life in a vacuum. It’s so quiet that she can hear the scuff of sneakers on the floor outside her office door.

Ellen scoots forward in her seat, words coming faster now. “I called your house, trying to reach you.”

“You what?”

“Elise picked up instead.”

Pam’s stomach twists.

“She said you weren’t together,” Ellen continues. "That you moved out weeks ago.”

Anger lances through Pam, white and hot. “Ellen, you had no right.” Her voice is strained from keeping her temper under control.

“Maybe so,” Ellen concedes, but she doesn’t look repentant at all. “But you also said we owe each other the truth. So what is it?”

“Your five minutes are up.” Pam knows she’s being irrational, but she doesn’t care. Clinging to her outrage is preferable to succumbing to her spiraling panic at being called out on her lie.

Ellen lets out an incredulous laugh. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Pam confirms, crossing her arms as if that would shield her from the growing tumult between them. “Please leave.”

Ellen just stares at her, unblinking, before she shakes her head. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I told you once before that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you. And I’m not leaving until I get the truth.”

Ellen’s eyes are dark, earnest. Pam hates that she’s not immune to them and, if she’s honest with herself, never will be. Her traitorous heart’s already melting, but Pam’s nothing if not stubborn and she sets her mouth in a thin, hard line. “Then I’ll go.”

She gets up to leave, not even bothering to grab her bag, but Ellen rushes to her feet and blocks her path--not unlike the time at The Outpost years ago, after Pam had given her ultimatum about Ellen’s marriage to Larry.

They’re close, too close that it makes Pam dizzy, and she has to take a step back. Ellen reaches out to Pam, but stops before she can make contact. Her right hand hovers in the air for several long seconds before it drops back to her side.

“Please don’t be angry,” Ellen pleads.

“A little too late for that.”

“I know.” Ellen’s brow furrows, but still she doesn’t move.

“Then please go,” Pam says in a pained whisper. “Or let me go.”

“I can’t.” The crack in Ellen’s voice splits straight down Pam’s heart. “I love you, Pam. Always have. Always will.”

Pam squeezes her eyes shut. The room feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“If you don’t feel the same, then…”Ellen’s throat constricts as she swallows. . “Then that’s fine. I’ll learn to live with that. But I just need to know. Please.”

When she opens them, Pam’s eyes are full, stinging. “You know I do.”

“Then why…”

“Because sometimes it’s not enough!”

Confusion etches across Ellen’s features, wrinkling her forehead and tugging the corners of her lips down. “Enough for what?”

“For us to work, Ellen.” Pam wipes away a tear that’s trickled down her cheek. “We live in completely different worlds.”

Ellen’s next response is drowned out by the telephone, its shrill ring cutting through the air. For a moment, Pam’s paralyzed, unable to move beneath Ellen’s piercing gaze, both of them breathing heavily. By the fourth ring, Pam snaps out of it. She walks back behind the desk, inhales, exhales, and picks up the receiver.

“Pam Horton.”

It’s the dean’s secretary, asking her to drop by the office before she leaves for the day. Pam normally dreads having to meet with the dean, never quite enjoying the administrative aspects of her job, but right now she’s relieved to have an excuse to end this conversation with Ellen before she does or says anything more that she’ll regret.

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” Pam says as Ellen’s eyes track her movements. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

After she hangs up the phone, she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

Ellen looks like she wants to object, but ultimately she retreats back a step. She doesn’t sit back down. Pam’s not sure if she feels relieved or disappointed.

“I understand.” She self-consciously tucks her hair behind her ears. “Can we at least talk later?”

Pam’s mind shouts no. Her heart screams yes. Her mouth lands somewhere in between. “I don’t know,” she says lamely. “We’re wrapping up finals… you know how it goes.”

Ellen’s looking at her like this might be the last opportunity she’ll have to do so. “Well, if you find yourself with some free time, I’m staying at the Driskill ‘til the end of the week.”

The Driskill is the oldest hotel in Austin, right in the heart of downtown. Iconic. Historic. Perfectly suited for someone of Ellen’s background and stature. And much too rich for Pam’s blood. It’s so fitting that Pam doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

“We’ll see,” she says.

Ellen nods slowly before turning toward the door. But her hand stills on the knob, and Pam finds herself holding her breath.

“Maybe we do live in different worlds.” Ellen smiles sadly over her shoulder. “But we could create a new one. Together.”

With that, she’s gone. The door softly clicks shut. And it takes all of Pam’s willpower not to follow.

[juniebjoneswrites]

A Thousand Miles // Niall Horan

The Map (1)

I dramatically flip open my map like every traveler in a 90’s movie. Remind me who said taking a solo stretch during a backpacking trip was a good idea? I just have a few words for them. I huff a stray chunk of hair from my eyes as I strain in the Ireland sun. If I’ve calculated correctly there should be a “Wicklow” sign. I wander around finding a main road and… a sign! “Mullingar, Westmeath,” fuck. I unceremoniously fold my map and frustratingly skip it across the sidewalk, collapsing on a bench. 

We all have our flaws, mine being navigation. And after a year and a half of this you’d think I could figure it out. But setting aside my one and only flaw, the present, deep seeded need was for a drink. Glancing both ways down the street, I have no strong feelings either way, or maybe I do? Who knows. But at this point trusting my gut has only gotten me lost, so I’ll just wing it. I decide on the right. I find a small hostel along the way and immediately take a room and a shower. I wash the last few days off like shedding skin, feeling myself becoming more bearable. I give the tub an extra rinse before filling it with hot water, detergent, and dumping in my dirty clothes. I take the metal rod I carry for protection and stir my cauldron of laundry like I’m a witch turned housewife. I leave it to soak. Who needs to spend on a machine anyway?

Back on the street the energy is more alive. People buzz from work to home, work to bars, you name it. I overhear a woman around my age excitedly state to a friend while grabbing their shoulders, “We're ahn de tear, be mahre excited!” Bingo. I slightly increase my speed to keep pace with the group. If they notice this hobo-esque woman following them, they don’t show it. We end up at a red-faced pub. Taking a seat at the bar I order whatever the bartender would get for herself then focus on the futball game. 

“Hey, who do the people around here root for?” I ask the two men a few seats away.

“We root fahr-”

“It doesn't matter who they root fahr as lahng as it's Darby County,” the second man says, cutting off his friend. 

I laugh, “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” I cup my hand, ready to palm the drink sliding my way. Looking significantly more awesome than what I’m capable of, the cup slides smoothly in my hand, spilling nothing. A new talent acquired? 

The Derby County fan jumps with excitement, the other scoffs, “You’re gettin’ loehcky, mate,” he throws back the rest of his beer, “Set down befahre ya right embarrass yooehrself,”

Instead he spins to the bartender, “A pent o' the black stoehff!” 

His friend drops his head and sighs, pulling out his phone, “Well I guess I’ll tell de maht we’ll be late,”

Turning away from their animations, I watch another man coming in from the rain. It’s started to pour. Perfect. I have no dry clothes back at the hostel, and no umbrella with me. And my map! I groan loudly and throw my face to my hands. My map! It’s soaking up all the rain back on the sidewalk. It had years on me, my mother traveled with it, her friends traveled with it. It was a backpackers dream; information and drawings, notes taped to its front and back. Safe places, dangerous places, all the best food places. It was more valuable and sentimental than any of my new equipment, and was now lost to the weather because of my foolishness. 

“You alright?” the first friend asks. 

“I lost my backpacking map,” I finished my beer. 

“Can’t ya get a new one?”

I sigh, “It’s not the same,” I tell him all the facts of this map and how it was undoubtedly superior to all other maps. 

“Oof,” the Derby fan says, “Get the lady anahther pent as well,” 

The bartender obliges and hands me another beer. “You know,” she says, “We do 'ave sahme maps 'ere,” She plucks one from under the bar, “Dey're a lettle ahld, boeht as nahthengs really changed, dey're stell pretty bang-ahn,” 

The Derby fan takes the seat to my right as the first man and their recently arrived friend stays on my left, “Get some sahme pens, Cara, we’re makin’ a new map, lads,” he exclaims. “Go ahn, give it a lash,” he says once supplies arrive. 

I sent out a mass S.O.S. on my high-tech, grade-A, top-of-the-line Tracfone to my fellow backpackers for any helpful bits for the map, albeit it’s mostly Ireland. For the next, almost hour or so, with the help of some pints, my memory,  and their messages pouring in, I reconstructed the map. Dora the Explorer and her Map had nothing on me. The three friends and bartender support me the whole way through, giving more insight to their area. I learn their names along with Cara’s, the first friend: Sean, Derby fan: Niall, the man from the rain: Nicky. They asked questions about my travels, Niall seeing many parts of the world himself, resonated with my trips. Most of what I’ve seen has been on the opposite end of his spectrum though, so I gave him names and places to visit if he ever ventured out far enough. A few of my favorite places in the Philippines he swore to visit. 

I expected the bar to fill up, though the rain instead kept the patrons away. Those of us stuck inside watched the game until Derby inevitably took a 5-0 lead and the win. Niall did a small dance with Sean, causing them to trip over a stool leg, bringing Sean almost to the ground; Niall catching him before the ground could. The beer gave me warmth against the rainy cold as I finally finished the map with what I could. There were no longer stains from previous trips and owners, the initials in the corner from those who once depended on it, now obsolete. I place my initials and the date in the bottom corner to relight our tradition. It was a beautiful mosaic of native and foreign, colorful paper and a multitude of pens markers from the others helping hands. I told the four of the tradition and to initial their names as I did, it only seemed right. 

“Dahn’t sell dat now,” Nicky said. 

I laughed, confused, “Why would I do that?”

“Because o’ Niall segnin it,” he pauses for my reaction, “Because'e's a senger,” he states at my confusion. 

“Wait? Really?” I ask, they look bewildered. “I’ve been traveling for a long while,” I say shrugging. 

Niall laughs, “Yeah, yeah that’s what they all say,” 

I hold up my Tracfone as evidence. Holding it like a touch screen, I pretend to look him up, “Ah, yes. I do see it now. Niall Someone, singer, and oh? What’s that?” I suck on my teeth, “Wow looks like you’ve been cancelled,” I give a sorry pout to him, “How sad,” 

Sean laughs, hitting Niall’s chest, “I dedn't get me mahneys wahrth frahm ya yet, mate, ya can’t be cancelled,”

“Well I guess in that case,” I say, carefully folding the map, “To the highest bidder it goes.” The friends laugh and grab the map. I pull it to my chest for safekeeping. “Maybe I’ll just keep it instead, I do need to get around still,”

----------

Sometime later we moved to leave the pub. The rain’s cleared, leaving a cloudy, moon lit sky. We say our goodbyes and I head in the opposite direction. I walk a few yards before a hand on my elbow spins me around. I grab my metal rod from my back pocket, pressing the button to lengthen it, I hold it in the air before realizing who was before me. 

“Jesoehs Noelle, it's joehst me,” Niall cries.

I let out a frightful sigh, “Man, don’t do that,” I clutch my chest. 

He laughs a little, "I'm invitin’ a few to me place and thooehght maybe you'd like to see a lettle mahre o' Ireland,”

“Yes, obviously,” I say in a relieved, obvious tone. “Just promise no one will jump me when we get there,”

“I cahnaht do that,” 

“We’ll at least you’re honest,” I retort, earning his laughter as we walk into the night.

[sabineelectricheart]

Just a Friend, Practically a Sister

Summary: Jamie is in love with Derek. Derek is in love with Miranda.

Rating: K - Intended for general audience 5 years and older. Content should be free of any coarse language, violence, and adult themes.

Words: 1700

Notes: Eh, not the best, but I wanted to flex these muscles. I hope you like it all the same.

“Jamie?” He asks, almost shocked someone could ever make such a preposterous claim. “Don’t worry about that, babe. She’s just a friend. She’s practically a sister to me.”

*_*_*_*_*

It was one hug.

One hug that happened weeks ago, yet it was all that Jamie could think about. It crept into her mind when she was least expecting it, catching her off guard and making her blush, worrying in case somebody saw her smiling at herself. Even so, she replayed it over and over again in her head. It was clear as day, for anyone who set their eyes on her, what was up.

It all happened one night, the State Championship game in Thousand Oaks. Jamie had begged her mom to go, despite being three hours on the Amtrack, just because she wanted to see her friend on the height of his high school career. After their victory, the whole team was celebrating on their way to the changing rooms and Derek had pulled her in for a sweaty, uncomfortable hug.

They had hugged loads of times, of course. They were best friends and she liked to express her appreciation on a physical form, too, but this time it felt different for Jamie. It felt different than every other time she had hugged him because she could not get it off of her mind. It plagued her day in and day out for weeks and she does not even know whether or not she liked it.

She could not have a crush on Derek, surely. He was one of her oldest and best friends and that was stepping into dangerous territory. Lest she wanted was to splinter him off from their friend group, God knows he needed more friends and less teammates and groupies.

Now, Summer was upon them. The teen girl knew that Derek would be away on training camp sometime in July, but until then, their little posse was spending their days on the beach and enjoying youth.

“Morning, Jamie!” Derek cheerily greeted, slipping into the seat next to her at breakfast, Cove taking his place on her other side.

Since Derek lived far away and still depended on the rides his father offered, he would always come by early. So, Jamie took upon herself on making and offering him, and Cove, who would come by lured by the smell of pancakes, some breakfast first thing in the morning.

“Morning, you two.” Jamie smiled at them and the Latino boy grinned back at her.

God above, that smile. What she would not give to have him smile at her like that every day?

As the days passed them by, it only got worse. She kept noticing more and more things about him that she had never noticed before. As they had lunch on the beach, they sat on a chequered blanket on the sand and the sun was shining on Derek’s face. It made his hair glow as the light shone through it, and she also noticed how he had a few freckles dotted across his nose, how when he was laughing really hard at something, a bit of his tongue would poke out of his mouth.

In the evening, when they were studying in her living room, Jamie noticed how the dim lighting above them made his long eyelashes cast crescent-moon shaped shadows down onto his cheeks. How, when he stretched, his shirt would ride up a little bit, revealing a bit of his stomach.

It was driving her crazy about how much he was on her mind. It went on like this for weeks, until she was sure that if she were asked, she could produce a perfect description of Derek Suarez, including all his habits, likes and personality.

As it is often the case, the teen girl had not been as discreet as she thought she were. One day, Cove has had quite enough of this puppy love and cornered Jamie in the sidewalk, just as they finish saying their goodbyes to the jock.

“You like him.” The boy was categoric.

“What are you on about, Cove?” She yawned.

“Derek.” The surfer rolled his eyes, despising obtuse behaviour. “It’s so obvious, I’m surprised he’s not noticed himself yet.”

“I don’t…” The girl tried to intercede.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, Jamie.” Cove cut her off. “It’s the same exact look I give my little fellas at the aquarium.”

“You’re sick.” She said, straight faced. “Look, please don’t say anything, Cove, I’m honestly just trying to forget about it.”

“If you wish, it’s as good as I’ve never noticed a thing.” The boy smiled kindly, trying to ease her nerves. “But if you want me to put a good word in for you then I can. I’m a good wingman.”

“I’m fine. Honestly.” Jamie smiled a little bit. “It’s just a little crush anyway, it’ll be gone in a few days.”

She was wrong. A month had passed since her conversation with Cove and every time she looked at Derek a smile would creep onto her face. Cove caught her doing this many times and would just wink.

“C’mon, Jamie!” Cove pestered, as they sat in front of his father’s store. “It’s been ages now, please just tell him that you like him, already. I’m sick of playing cupid now.”

“You’re hardly playing cupid, seafoam head.” She laughed. “All you’ve done is switch seats with me during meals so we’re sitting next to each other.”

“Well, I’m sorry for trying to get you two together!” He feigned being hurt. “If you want me to have a word then I said that I…”

“Have a word with who?” Derek has suddenly appeared behind them.

“Oh, er, Miranda.” Cove improvised. “She said she would like to join an NGO this summer, I thought I’d give her some pointers.”

“I’m on my way up to the mall to meet her now, actually. I can pass on the message?” Derek offered, looking at Jamie, who now looked rather pale.

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s a bit long. I’ll have a chat with her later.” He lied.

Derek smiled and walked off, leaving Jamie and Cove alone on the sidewalk.

“How about we go for a walk on the mall ourselves and we can talk about how you’re going to confess your feelings to Derek?” The boy offered.

Jamie rolled her eyes but followed him, nevertheless.

“I wonder what he’s going to meet Miranda for…” She said.

“Why? Getting jealous, are you?” Cove joked, poking her playfully. “It must be something about her work at the store, probably. I don’t think they have any other common interests. Strange how he’s not mentioned it to me, though.”

They talk animatedly on their way down the street, as they leisurely walk to the mall. They stop on a few stores once there, buying some necessities and checking out the new wares on their local temple to consumption.

Finally, they reached the food court. Once there, amongst the lean patronage of a late lunch, sat two well-known figures.

“So,” One of the voices spoke. “How about a drive to LA on Saturday? My dad’s lending me the car.”

“Like a date?” Miranda asks, confused.

“Of course!” Derek confirms, enthused. “I like you, babe. I want to go out with you.”

Jamie stopped dead in her tracks, Cove lingering behind her.

“But what about Jamie?” The round-faced girl asks, concerned. “I’m sure she fancies you.”

“Jamie?” He asks, almost shocked someone could ever make such a preposterous claim. “Don’t worry about that, babe. She’s just a friend. She’s practically a sister to me.”

Derek, then, leaned down and kissed the girl on the lips. Jamie’s eyes were stinging. It felt like she had been punched in the stomach, like all the breath had been stolen out of her lungs.

She turned round quickly, pushing Cove out of the way and ran out of the food court. With no idea where she was actually running to, moments later she found herself at the wired gate through which they came inside.

She threw herself down against one of the barbed walls and looked up at the summer sky. Tears streamed down her face. She drew her knees up against her chest and buried her head in her arms. The girl did not even notice that someone was stood in front of her until she lifted her head to wipe her eyes with the hem of her t-shirt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cove took a seat next to her and she sniffed in response.

A moment of silence hangs between them.

“I love him, I really do, but he’s a downright idiot, sometimes, my friend.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“It’s not his fault.” Jamie croaked, her throat sore from the crying. “He isn’t obligated to like me back. I should’ve just told him how I felt, though, so he could just turn me down easy.”

“I know, I know.” Cove comforted her.

“It just hurts, you know?” She sniffled. “Knowing that all we’ll ever be is friends,”

It did hurt. Over the next few months, even as the boy left for his training camp, she had to watch Derek and Miranda’s love grow. He would call her daily and visit whenever possible, though he never again step foot in Sunset Bird.

As the season changes, Jamie watched how much the girl made him smile, how he would bring her stupid gifts to their outings on weekends, how she would sometimes catch them falling behind the group, all cuddled up and completely separated from the others, lost in their own little world.

It hurt because Derek would never know how Jamie felt about him, how much it hurt her when he had referred to her as “just a friend”. Even though it hurt, she decided that it was much better to have Derek in her life, just as a friend, than to not have him in her life at all. To have a small piece, even if she could not have it all.

Someday, it would all be behind her. She would find someone else to love. Until then, it just hurts to be another friend.

*_*_*_*_*

Our Life Masterlist

[starstruck-thirst]

She Wants Revenge

Part 3 Chrollo Lucilfer: Out of Control

Series title is after the band of the same name. The chapter is named after this song.

Part 1 of series is here.

Warnings: PTSD flashbacks, NSFW, mental manipulation, fem dom, slight bondage

“One large caramel macchiato!”

If someone wanted to make a lot of money fast, all they would have to do is open a coffee shop near the business square in Swardani City. The constant flow of foot traffic in and out guaranteed that the owner's child wouldn't have to take out any school loans. You’d put money down that they could all become doctors without debt.

You were staring into your coffee, fingers of your right hand relaxed against the warm ceramic, enjoying a moment of pure content serenity. The sensation of the heat stabilized your nerves while your other hand gently caressed the book, flipping a page and getting a whiff of the paper and ink smell as you did so. Each movement was so familiar that it almost made you feel completely relaxed. The smell of freshly baked goods filling your nose, the sound of the bell announcing customers, the feeling of the table under your arms, the taste of the coffee in your mouth. It was all a part of a life you knew once, something that used to make up part of your daily life.

But, you hadn't read a single word. Eyes scanned each line as if you were engaged, but there was no comprehension to it. Just an empty masquerade as you waited like a patient fisherman for the lure to bob. It all was just a part of the setting of your trap.

The city had taken you back so readily two weeks ago. It was like you had never left, nothing was different. Businesses were the same, the streets had the same smell and landmarks. Like the world had stopped and waited for you to come back. Held its breath and watched for your anticipated return.

The grocery store you used to visit once a week hadn't even reorganized their inventory.

Moving into an apartment in the same part of the city as before had been the simplest thing you had done in months. The hardest part had been filling the apartment with things. When you had left the city, you had sold off all of your possessions minus a few items that could fit into a suitcase. But now it was a chore to stock the kitchen with dishes and silverware. Creating a television set of life around you.

As you sat a bowl of fruit on the kitchen island you wondered when this had stopped being ‘normal’ for you. Would it ever feel normal again?

But there was no pain. Whereas before you had felt an ache in each muscle, ligament, and joint from basic living now you felt… nothing. The level of excitement that rose into your chest as you placed the last of the freshly washed dishes was new though. The excitement of what this was all for.

The prize that was to come.

Even coming to the coffee shop where you used to come daily had been so easy.

Why had any of this seemed so hard six months ago?

The bell on the door chimed probably for the millionth time, but this time it was different. If asked you'd never be able to explain to a non-hunter why. It was just part of having hunter senses. You could feel it in your soul when a target had come into your range. Feel it in every nerve when they nipped at the bait.

“Good morning, Mr. Hill! Your usual?”

“It isn't still morning is it? Goodness. Will this Monday ever end?”

His voice was jovial. Light hearted and warm. Sweet nectar for unsuspecting butterflies in search of nourishment to suck from, before being consumed by the carnivorous plant underneath.

Your heart picked up just a little, but you kept calm, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and artfully tilting your head to one side as you “read”. For a moment you wondered if your makeup had been perfect enough, and you had to fight the built-in urge to touch your lips and make sure that you hadn’t gotten even the slightest smear outside of your lip line.

Maybe some things were built in so deep that they hadn’t changed either.

Pariston finished his transaction at the register and began looking over a nearby painting that was marked as sold. Somehow this was the part you found the hardest. The waiting when your hunt was within sight. But you were determined to stay steadfast in your plan.

Another page turn.

For whatever reason this drew his eyes toward you at last. You could feel his gaze like a weighted blanket heavy on the shoulders, threatening to crush you if you breathed incorrectly.

He called your name and your heart pained in want. First you looked up with just your eyes, as if to be annoyed by the distraction from your reading. But upon realizing who had called you, you sat up straight and viewed him full on. It was all part of the act, but you had done it so beautifully. “Pariston! Or er… Mr. Hill… good morning.”

He smiled and lifted a hand in greeting. “Good morning. May I sit with you?” All of this was so in place with everything else that it made some part of you want to be sick, but the part of you he had trained was absolutely aching to please.

Shuffling coffee cup and book, you made room on the small café table as Pariston sat across from you. “Oh sure. If you have the time,” you responded, though he hadn’t waited for your verbal affirmation.

“I can always make a little bit of time for an old friend, right?” He asked as one large hand came across the table and rested on your own.

“Is that what we are?” You asked with a trace of obvious hurt, looking to the floor.

His hand gripped yours tightly, just shy of enough force to hurt. “Of course.”

Slowly you looked up at Pariston, allowing your power to activate through his touch. It was just a trickle, but you clearly felt his surface level desires. He was interested in your bait. He was nibbling.

You wondered if a broken toy had ever recovered and managed to not shake apart in front of him. Like you had the first time.

A long sigh escaped your lips as your thumb brushed one of his fingers before you jerked your hand away, catching yourself. That spark in his eye that had been so dim six months ago was getting brighter already. “Sorry,” you apologized. But what exactly you were apologizing for wasn't clear. Pulling your hand away? Having tenderly stroked his finger?

“It's perfectly fine,” he said sitting back with an unreadable smile.

“Here's your coffee, Mr. Hill,” a friendly male barista said as he sat a to go coffee cup on the table. “Also, we sold two paintings. Could you take this to her for us?” The barista produced an envelope for Pariston to take.

“Not a problem! I'll take it over this afternoon. She'll be thrilled,” he chirped, taking the envelope and putting into his breast pocket.

The barista nodded and as he left you looked at the large canvas that had a tag under it boldly stating “SOLD” that Pariston had been looking at earlier. “You deal in art now?”

He laughed. “After that little gallery trip I grew interested. The artist that puts her work up here is very talented and needed a patron, so I thought I would give it a shot. I'm hoping to set up her with her very own show soon. Small at first, but still.”

“And what of… your ingenue?” With the question you shyly looked back to him, breaking eye contact to look at your coffee cup before seemingly forcing your gaze back to his again.

The right corner of his lip ticked. It was almost unnoticeable. “Sadly, she moved departments and works out of the city now. So…” he sighed dramatically as he opened his hands to show them empty. “Might be why I decided to try help out. Since I am once again unattached and slightly less busy.”

You bit your lower lip, staring at him as if lost in thought before finally responding, “I see.”

Pariston’s phone rang in his pocket and he stood up with a new smile in place. One that held interest and secrets. “Duty calls. You really do seem to be back to your old self. Let me know if you have any interest… in art.”

With a sincerely pleased smile you nodded. “I promise to let you know.”

He waved goodbye and left the shop as he answered his phone. You felt that pang of want again, and as you sipped your coffee you imagined stepping on Pariston's smug face. Squashing the man who instilled such disgusting desires inside of you while simultaneously squashing the desire itself.

You wanted to ruin him so badly.

The chime of your own phone pulled you out of your pretending to read- not wanting to leave immediately after Pariston- and you opened to reveal a message.

[I believe I have someone that you will want to meet. ♡]

[Oh? What makes you think I want such a thing?]

[You said you needed resources. ◇]

[You have my attention. Where to meet?]

[I can't just give you information for free you know. ♡]

You laughed under your breath.

[Who said anything about expecting free information? Send me an address.]

You finished your coffee and stood but stopped when a thought came to you.

[And bring some rope with you.]

[Yes, ma'am~♡]

You stopped at a canvas that hung near the entrance to the shop. It had the same artist name as the one Pariston had been admiring. The paint on it was pained, there was no other word for it. It cried to you and absentmindedly you reached forward and touched the label that boasted the artist name, price, and the name of the piece.

“SNARE”

The sound of your phone chiming from Hisoka responding with an address brought you out of your thoughts. Perhaps some fresh artwork was exactly what your new apartment needed, you decided.

~*~*~

“Hisoka, you are such a needy slut, aren’t you?”

A shaky, excited grumble came from the man, but nothing more in the way of response. The fact that he couldn’t even muster words, even though his mouth was completely free to respond, made you grin in joy.

The rope he had so dutifully brought with him was tied around his wrists and anchored to the headboard of the hotel room he had chosen The shame of the situation was you were making him kneel on the bed, so his head was bowed, and you couldn’t see his facial reactions as you ran a gloved hand down his back, lash marks glowing red against his pale flesh. The sensation of the velvet glove rubbing against the tender marks must have been too much for him to focus an answer.

“You were so talkative earlier,” you purred, as you pressed your chest to his back and wrapped your arm around him to run your naked right hand over his chest, sipping in a bit of his intoxicating desires. The familiar dark tendrils of his desires wrapped up your arms like friendly snakes and you felt refreshed. His lust for sex and pain was too tempting to not taste. Your senses felt like they literally shivered as the urge to cause him more pain made your other hand twitch against his back.

Your body was pressed so close to his that it would be far too easy to overdose on his desires if you weren’t careful. Testing with Hisoka had taught you that you could use your abilities with any of your flesh, but only after they had been initiated by your right hand. And the commands and sensations would be weaker than what you would get if you used your right hand. You had to focus your ability into contact points so as to not overdose.

Keeping your body wrapped around his so that you could continue to bring your fingers lower on his body in an agonizingly slow gesture, you egged him on further. “I thought you said you had a new playmate for me?”

Your pinky brushed against the tip of his cock that was already so hard it was standing at firm attention. He sighed and titled his hips to encourage your hand to sink just a little lower. “Not yet, Hisoka,” you chided with a laugh, “I want at least something. Give me something to praise you for.”

A low growl like noise rumbled in his chest and you wondered how much he was tempted to break the ropes and take over. But that was part of the game. Since you weren’t using your strongest power on Hisoka he was free to do what he wanted, which included not breaking free. He took in a breath, turning his head between his raised arms to grant him a peak at your face.

“Fine,” you sighed pulling away and picking up the crop once more. Shifting to the side you brought the leather down on his back with a satisfying smack and Hisoka looked to the bed again, groaning. You hit him one more time before laying down on the bed so you could look up at his face. His face was flushed, and eyes closed as he took in the various feelings of lust and pain. “You’re being very stubborn today.” Your tone was light, playful. A sign you were having fun.

A sly, arrogant smile came to Hisoka’s face as he opened his eyes to look down at you. “Maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough.”

You frowned. “I suppose that is also a possibility.” Why weren’t you more excited to hurt and push Hisoka around? After having seen Pariston again you thought you would have been much more excited to do so, but… part of you still felt off. That feeling of him lingering just behind your consciousness had returned.

His muscles were tight above you as his body heaved lightly with each anticipating breath. Just seeing him straining like this, the appearance of him being unable to move or truly react was enough to get you wet. But it wasn’t enough.

Reaching next to the bed you produced a bottle of lube. Not looking at Hisoka, you spread some onto your right hand. “There is something else I want to try today. You’ve been such a good Guinea Pig so far. Let’s experiment, shall we?” Closing the bottle, you dropped it to the floor carelessly as you moved your fingers against your palm to completely coat your hand in the slippery fluid.

With a lewd grin you looked back up to see Hisoka watching your every move with blatant curiosity. His own excitement at being played with betrayed his usual air of confidence as a hungry need to be dominated displayed plainly on his face.

With a single finger you ran a slippery tip around his cock and you could see his breath catch. His skin was a bright pink under your touch, so hard it had to be painful. Starting at the tip you rubbed your forefinger and thumb slowly down his length, pressing your thumb against the underside with extra stress. Hisoka’s head lifted as much as he was able, each of his muscles tightening with strain. “Don’t cum yet. I haven’t started,” you said from your much more comfortable laying position on the bed.

“I can take your desires, feel them,” now you gripped his dick with your entire hand and began to pump it along him. “But… can you feel mine?” you asked as you altered the amount of pressure each finger applied while continuously moving. Focusing on your surface level desire, absolute /need/ for the information Hisoka was promising you imagined it flowing from your hand into his skin. Your desire to take Pariston down. To make him scream.

Hisoka hollered, eyes shut tight once more as his hips rocked against your hand. “Do you feel my desires, Hisoka?” you asked.

“Y-yes,” he managed shakily, body practically shivering under your touch.

“So it does work. Fascinating.” Hisoka mumbled something, and you shifted so you were half under him now and looking up at him would be easier while your hand worked. “What did you say?” As you asked you released him, pre-cum already coating his tip.

“Chrollo,” he said with a gulp of air.

“Chrollo?” you parroted, not following him. “This is the name of the person you think will be of use to me?”

His eyelids slowly slid open, amber eyes staring down at you completely clouded in desire. You had left him so close to a climax. “He leads the Phantom Troupe.”

Your heart clenched in your chest, eyes wide at his words. “They’re real?”

Your shock gave Hisoka a place to stand on high and mighty once again, and that arrogant grin came back. “Very much so.”

The pitch-black spider on Hisoka’s back had been impossible to ignore when you had tied him to the bed. It had seemed familiar in the way a vague bedtime story brought up memories you didn’t exactly have. The possibilities of this revelation washed over you and you gently cupped Hisoka’s dick once more. “You can help me meet Chrollo?”

Just the feeling of your touch was enough to warrant another noise of pleasure as Hisoka nodded. “Easily.”

Now you felt true excitement again. Gripping his dick you moved slowly, staring into Hisoka’s face with a cat like pleasure. “Good boy, Hisoka.”

His eyes managed to stay open this time and you watched his face relax in pleasure as you quickened the pace. Again, his hips moved in time with your hand and you squeezed him tightly picking up the pace.

It wasn’t long before he came, long white ribbons rushing free as Hisoka moaned with his orgasm above you. Admittedly, you hadn’t thought about your position when you had laid beneath him to watch, and his cum landed on your chest in warm pools. You sighed, releasing his flaccid dick to look at your hand covered in lube and cum. “I suppose I should have expected this. Look you made a mess of me.”

“I can do worse than that,” Hisoka laughed, already a hungry look growing in his eyes.

Your body clenched at his words, and you contemplated waiting for Hisoka to be ready for another round of games. But time was ticking. This wasn’t really a time to be fucking around.

Sliding out from under him you wiped your hand onto the bed before untying Hisoka’s hands. “If this Chrollo is as useful as you claim, maybe you will get the chance.” Your words held a teasing promise that Hisoka was quick to react to.

Once his hands were free he sat up and wrapped his arms around your body. “Or maybe I’ll just take my chance now.”

“But that won’t be as fun,” you pointed out brushing your chest against his so as to smear his own mess back onto him. “Will it?”

He thought about this, bright eyes eating up the view of you in just a bra and panties, covered in his cum. “How about a compromise?” you asked leaning your face close to his, “come clean me off in the shower.” One of his eyebrows raised as you kissed him, running your right hand over his bicep to feed your desire into him again.

As you pulled away his arms somewhat reluctantly released you and you slipped off the bed towards the bathroom. “I suppose a compromise will have to do,” he responded behind you. You only laughed in response.

~*~*~

Hisoka had been good to his word and set up a meeting with Chrollo that same day. He might have already done so before the fun time in the hotel, it was hard to be sure. But either way, that evening you met Hisoka on the edge of town so he could lead you to the elusive leader of the Phantom Troupe.

Out of the city you had been cautious, but now you were downright paranoid. Pariston had a lot of enemies, but he still had supporters. Each time you left a building you went first to a logical place for you to visit, a store, home, anything that could be considered in the norm. And then you had to slip away from that building, using all of your nen training to be sure you weren’t being tracked or followed.

Even if you were sure you weren’t being followed you took long, complicated routes to where you were going. It was a bit annoying, but you knew it would be worth it.

In your bag you had a mask with you, uncertain if you should bother putting it on at this juncture or not when you met Chrollo. He might not trust someone he couldn’t see the face of. And the odds of him reporting back to Pariston of all people was dirt low. But it made you feel better to have it with you.

Hisoka was patiently waiting for you at the agreed upon place just outside of town, playing with his cards as he tended to do. “You really did take your time,” he commented, putting his cards away when he saw you.

“I try not to be sloppy,” you joked, earning a smirk from the magician as he began to lead you down the road.

The walk was long, but pleasant. As the sun sank the insects started to buzz and chirp their mating songs. The air was cooling off with each inch of sunlight lost, but the growing chill didn’t make you uncomfortable. The slight nip of chill always made you feel more alive, and even this meager amount helped you feel more awake and alert.

So far it hadn’t felt like you were being followed or watched, and Hisoka saying nothing helped you to feel more secure in that. Even if he didn’t have a chip in your game with Pariston, it served his personal interest to help you for the moment. That was as much guarantee as you could ask for from the man.

As if hearing your thoughts, he spoke, “We’re entering their territory.”

Almost immediately after he spoke you could feel eyes on you, watching your approach. If Pariston’s gaze earlier in the day had been a weighted blanket, this feeling was a heavy mutter. You could feel it because you had been working so hard to sense such things, and even then it was hard to catch. They were better than you.

Good.

It took a few more blocks, but finally Hisoka stopped outside of an old home. What had once been a finely painted home with ornate handrails, was now a looming dark presence of peeling paint and darkened windows. Yet even now, a shadow of its former glory, it was beautiful. Even if the style was a bit outdated.

Some part of you realized Pariston would hate it. This old, dirty house. He had always been one in favor of modernism. Despite the fact that he had managed to intrude on your mind again, the realization made you smile.

“Go on in,” Hisoka instructed, gesturing with one arm across his body in his usual theatrical way.

Without reacting to Hisoka, you walked past him, feeling the eyes that had been watching you slip away. Either they were on the move, or they didn’t feel the need to continue observing once you were close enough to the house. It didn’t really matter to you anyway. Boldly you opened the door to the house and entered, Hisoka following in after you and shutting the door firmly behind.

The inside of the house was much the same as the outside, wallpaper that had been decorated with a pattern of scroll work was peeling and had lost color with time. Carpet that had been plush and loved now full of dirt and grime. A spider ran across the door frame to your right and out of sight, fearfully escaping the presence of humans. “If I didn’t know better Hisoka I’d think this was all a set up,” you mused as you moved down the hall on instinct.

“It’s a good thing you know better.” His tone had been his usual teasing one, and you couldn’t help a quiet laugh.

A broken set of stairs spiraled up to the second floor, but you took a right into a sitting room instead of going up, again purely moving on some sort of intuition. The sitting room had red wallpaper, and even with its age you could still get a sense of the deep burgundy it had once been. It probably had complimented the dark hard wood of the house beautifully.

But none of that mattered as your eyes landed on a figure sitting behind the abused desk. A candle lit his features as he read a book, the title obscured due to the shadow. You stared at him a moment, admiring his beauty. His aura was that of someone that should provoke caution, much like Hisoka, and yet you felt curiosity as you noticed a cross like tattoo on his forehead, perfectly displayed since his hair was slicked back away from his face.

So far everyone you had met on this revenge war path was extra as hell, but you were kind of enjoying that fact. They were all so different from Pariston’s perfect suits and well-maintained environments. Maybe that type of insanity had been part of the draw of the hunter’s association when you had joined years ago.

Maybe you had just forgotten.

“Chrollo, I presume?” you asked, not waiting for some sign from the man to speak.

He looked up from his book, face passive and showing no sign of displeasure of the interruption. “You presume correctly,” he replied, straightening his back in the chair. “And you must be Adra.”

You nodded taking a few steps closer to the desk, enough for the candle to help illuminate your outline. You weren’t sure if he could clearly see your face, but you weren’t yet in a rush to make it more apparent to him. “I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You meant it sincerely. If this really was the leader of the famous Phantom Troupe you were coming into contact with a ghost. The pleased tone of your voice seemed to come across as intended because a faint, enigmatic smile appeared. “I was led to believe that you might be interested in a business deal.”

The book shut with a soft snap and long graceful fingers placed it upon the dusty desktop. “I’m not so sure that you will have something of equal value to offer.  Although, Hisoka informed me you used to work for the Hunters’ Association.”

With a chuckle you spread your hands open in front of you, and immediately dropped them. Pariston had done that same action at you today. “I have no love for the association. My information is yours.”

Chrollo sat back in the chair, a creaking sound coming from the wood in protest as he rested his face on his hand while watching your every move. The way the warm candle light flickered across his face made shadows dance around his eyes, it was almost entrancing the way he looked. “I’ll need a way to verify your information.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it viable.”

“You seem eager.”

“I have a specific goal in mind, and I will stop at nothing to see it complete.”

This retort made Chrollo fall silent, his dark eyes moving from you to Hisoka behind you. If Hisoka made some gesture, you had no idea. He made no sound if he had done so. “Would you go as far as to kill for what you want?” As he asked his eyes slid back to you and away from Hisoka.

Counting to five you breathed in, held for two seconds, and released. Confidently, you took another step towards the desk but stopped as a gun was suddenly aimed at your temple from your left. With a roll of your eyes you lifted your hands to the sides of your head. “You can search me for weapons if you want. But I’m not here to fight.”

“It’s okay,” Chrollo said, and the gun slowly lowered, silver flashing in the candle light as it was dropped back to the person’s side.

You chanced a quick glance at the person who had threatened you, only seeing that it was a woman with blonde hair. “Thank you,” you stated, as your gaze slipped back to her boss. Even you weren’t sure if you were saying it to her or to Chrollo, but it didn’t really matter.

The high stakes were already starting to make the familiar swirl of desire build inside of you. A line of lust already starting to run through the back of your mind. While it wouldn’t be noticeable on the outside, you still tried to push it to the back of your mind so you could focus.

With another two steps you were within the glowing pool of light the candle provided, the warm yellow lighting your face completely. Chrollo hadn’t looked away from your approaching shadow the entire time, so now that he had a clear view of you, he looked directly at your face, taking in the details. “I’m willing to do whatever necessary to get what I want,” you finally responded.

“Your help can make my plan a secured success, but even if you turned me down I would still find a way. I know the rumors and reputation your troupe has. If you want something, you take it. So I am sure you can understand the weight of my resolve.”

“I do,” Chrollo responded, his hand falling to the arm of the chair. He thought in silence for a moment before leaning forward and snuffing out the candle on the desk. The loss of the light made the room especially dark while your eyes adjusted. “Pakunoda, would you please?”

As the room came back into focus you clearly saw the tall blonde woman approach you from next to the only window in the sitting room. Her face was deadpan and unreadable as she came to your side and placed a hand on your shoulder. Instinctively you wanted to pull away, but the fact this was obviously a test kept you still. “Do you still work for the Association?” she asked.

You looked back to Chrollo, locking eyes with him. “No.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“You’re better off telling us yourself.”

The way she had phrased that made your arm muscles tense. Perhaps her nen power gave her the ability to detect lies? Could she dive into your mind and find the truths? Had she already? If she could she was doing you a kindness by letting you say the answer yourself. Potentially such a power could hurt.

You sighed. “Someone hurt me, he hurts a lot of people. I want to hurt him back.”

“Pariston Hill.”

Even though you had seen Pariston yourself almost twelve hours ago, someone saying his name with the level of certainty the way Pakunoda had made your stomach twist into an angry, sickening knot. “Yes. He is vice president of the association.”

“Do you want to kill him?”

“I don’t know yet.”

A pause. “You don’t.” The tone of her voice had a tint of shock in her realization.

It wasn’t a question, but you felt spurred on regardless. “I know pretty much everything up to that point.”

“You’ve been thinking about this very deeply for a while.”

“Almost every minute of my life for six months.”

“That’s enough, Pakunoda,” Chrollo said. “For now.”

Her hand squeezed your shoulder once before slipping away and you wondered if it had been a warning, sympathy, or something else.

“Satisfied?” you asked sensing Pakunoda returning to her previous position.

He smirked and stood up for the first time. “I’m sure you know already, I am never satisfied. That is why we do what we do. Once you have that which you were lusting after, you start looking for something else to become obsessed. The need is never satiated.”

You couldn’t help but to frown at his words. “I can’t say I am the same,” you said plainly, and Chrollo looked at you with apparent intrigue.

“To work together I’d like to know your abilities. I’m assuming you can use nen?”

“If I tell you would put me at a disadvantage, though yes. I can use nen.”

With a collected sense of ease, Chrollo rounded the desk and leaned on it, palms resting on the wood. Nothing about his body language made you feel the need to be tense, but everything about the situation and the knowledge of who you were dealing with did. And that level of intensity made that swirling lust tighten and grow. You fought to shift your weight so your thighs would push together more firmly and provide a bit of pressure on that growing sense of need. “I know the abilities of everyone I work with.”

“Do they know yours in return?”

“Yes.” If the constant badminton game of conversation was annoying Chrollo, he wasn’t showing it.

“Then, I will tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“You aren’t one of us.”

“No, I’m not. I have no guarantee that you won’t dump me dead by the side of the road in an hour. I have no promise that you will even help me, even if you say you will. But they do. They know exactly how they stand in relation to you. They know your rules, and they have earned your trust. There is no way I could ever have that level of rapport like they do. So, this is the least I can ask and the least you can give me to reassure me of any level of comradery.

Even if it is temporary.”

Chrollo looked to one side of the room. You couldn’t be sure if he was looking at Hisoka or someone else as you had kept your attention on him entirely. You could feel other people in the room, but they each had made an effort to blend in with the environment as best they could.

“Hisoka.” The ‘hmm’ in response let you know instantly that the person Chrollo had been looking at was indeed Hisoka. The tone was too iconic. “Do you know Adra’s ability?”

“Yes,” he responded with a tone of pleasure, and despite yourself you couldn’t help the tiniest of smiles. “I think you’ll find it…. Interesting.”

There was a suggestion in his tone that you didn’t quite follow, but now wasn’t the time to mull it over. “Leave us alone for a moment,” Chrollo ordered the room at large.

You assumed that he hadn’t meant you, so you remained planted in the same place as quiet footsteps filed out of the room around you. The absence of the faint feeling of other people in the room made the sitting room feel larger, and Chrollo somehow more threatening. “I hope this is a positive sign,” you half joked and Chrollo gave you an entertained smirk.

“It is. While I know all of my associate’s abilities, they do not all know each other’s. If they choose to tell one another, that is their business. Otherwise they only find out once they have a job together generally. I figured it was the least I could do to, how did you put it? Give you a sense of comradery.”

The pure realization of that action made you pause. Stupidly you hadn’t thought about that. If asked you wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to find out about your ability, every good hunter knew you kept that to yourself as long as you could. And even if you used the ability around others, it didn’t mean they always understood it. Verbally explaining an ability was much more detailed. “Thank you.”

“You first,” he instructed with a nod of his head.

This you hated, naturally. He could go back on his word to tell you his ability. But, you had come this far. Even if he turned on you, at least you could say you tried. “I can sense the desire of others through touch. The more intimate the touch, the deeper I can reach.”

“That is interesting. And?”

Your intuition was sparking, like little pops of low flowing electricity along your neck. He would know you were completely lying if you said that was all. Besides it wasn’t a very useful ability on its own. “I can make people feel my desires and wants.”

In an attempt to cut off any further questions you reached your right hand towards Chrollo. Why he stood and put his hand into yours, you weren’t sure. But you took advantage of it, turning his hand so that the palm was down so that you could grasp it and lovingly run your thumb over the top of his hand. Even this didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

More of a test, and a bit as a tease, you focused on how Chrollo was making you feel. The surface level desire of lust and interest. Mentally you thought about what it would feel like to push him onto the desk and straddle him. Through your ability you fed more of the desire that fueled such thoughts and Chrollo’s eyes widened as the feelings slipped into him.

You took a half step closer to him, running your hand up his arm to his shoulder. As the level of intimacy grew, you could focus on your desire for information and aide. Something that you didn’t want to express in words, or really at all, in fear of coming off desperate. But it was now or never to convince him.

The fire in your very soul burned so brightly when you thought about how much further your plan could advance with the help of the troupe. The perfect plan you had been thinking about endlessly in the dark for more hours than you had bothered to count.

A long, low sigh slid from your lips as you imagined a flow of these needs go from your hand into his creamy skin. Suddenly you snapped back into the moment and remembered yourself. Your goal. You had moved closer to Chrollo at some point in the exchange, only two feet of air kept you apart. “It’s a manipulator ability,” you muttered, as if he wouldn’t know that on his own. “Won’t you tell me your ability now, Chrollo?” you asked, with an underlying hint of a command.

On your power scale, it would only be a level one command, something he would never realize was a command and could ignore if he so chose, unless any part of him wanted to tell you. Then he would be prompted to tell you more easily than before. And potentially the feeling of your own desire to know would help to spur him on as well.

“I am a specialist. I take abilities,” he replied with a low, somewhat distracted tone.

Your hand snapped back and with a single step you were halfway across the room from the man. Retreating like a cat from a predator that was bigger and potentially too dangerous to face. A low rolling chuckle came from Chrollo as he slipped out of the slight mind fog of your projected desire. “That’s a smart reaction.”

If he had taken yours, you weren’t sure how you would know. As a test, you surrounded your index finger with nen, and felt a bit more assured as a faint glow shimmered. But it still wasn’t certain you had your ability. It was hard to know what to expect when you didn’t know how his own ability to take worked. “Don’t worry,” you looked up to Chrollo again as he spoke, “I didn’t take yours. Not yet anyway.”

Subconscious, you gripped your right hand with the left. “Not yet? That is rather threatening, don’t you think?”

The amused look hadn’t left his face as Chrollo relaxed against the desk once more. “It can always be returned.”

“Excuse me for not finding comfort in that.”

He chuckled again. “Even in the face of uncertainty,” he mused. “What is it you had in mind for my troupe?”

~*~*~

“What are you doing here!? Wow I haven’t seen you in…”

“A year,” you replied with a smile to the bubbly teal haired woman that was working the reception desk of the Hunters’ Association. You had barely remembered her name, but luckily a little name plate on the white counter proclaimed her Eix just in case you hadn’t remembered. “Yeah I had to take some time off to recover. I’m sure you heard about the whole ‘overworking’ thing. But I think I’m ready to have a job again. Something… lower though maybe.”

Eix nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! Did you bring in your resume with you?”

“Naturally,” you responded with a joyful laugh, sliding the thick paper item towards the woman. “I saw on the Hunter site there was an opening in the mail-room. That is pretty low down, a bit further than I had wanted, but if that is all there is I’d even take that.”

“Man, mail-room. I never had to do that job, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be that bad, right?” she replied looking over your resume. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure this gets to the right people. Maybe we’ll find somewhere more suitable than the mail-room.”

“Thanks, Eix. I appreciate it.” You were being so sincere that it almost physically hurt, but you weren’t sure how much more of the normalcy of the conversation you could keep up for much longer.

In some level of fortune Eix’s next words were cut off as someone else approached the desk to ask a legitimate question, and you took the opportunity to wave a goodbye and head for the glass doors out of the building. A sense of someone watching your every step curdling your stomach as you went.

The apartment had been easy. The coffee shop had been easy.

The association had been torment.

It was taking everything inside of you, every trained mental coping mechanism you had built up to enter the building and not fall apart. The memories of Pariston holding the door open for you. Talking with you all the way to his office. His hands sliding up your skirt in the elevator as you protested, fearful that someone would see. But he had never heeded your concerns and fears. Even when he called you to his office in the middle of the workday and you emerged half an hour later, praying no one noticed your knees were red.

As you pushed the final door to freedom open the sun on your skin made you realize just how cold you had been standing inside. The fresh outside air on your face felt like life itself and you truly never wanted to go back into that building again.

But you would have to.

It was part of the plan.

The commute back to your apartment was almost enjoyable, even though your stomach still felt like it might join you in your sunshine revival. Purposefully you hadn’t eaten, but even so it threatened you.

As your front door shut behind you, all you could dream of was tea. Some soothing jasmine to cure your ill and ground you once more, mentally secure the fact in your mind that you were safe. That you were in control.

But you hadn’t gotten further than taking your shoes off in the entryway before you were stopped again, seeing a figure in black staring at the freshly hung canvas in the living room. “I didn’t know you ever went out in the day time,” you commented to Chrollo, moving directly to the open kitchen to put the kettle on for tea.

Somehow you knew your audacity to make such statements amused Chrollo and he didn’t respond to the comment as he continued to stare at the painting. “Interesting piece. What is it called?”

“Snare. A local artist made it,” you answered honestly. “Do you like jasmine tea?”

“I do, in fact,” he replied, and you set out two cups next to the teapot. “I can see why you are drawn to it.” You licked your lips and turned the stove top on silently before putting leaves into the tea basket. “Pakunoda can see the truth to any question she asks. I’m sure you’ve surmised as much for yourself.”

“I did. So,” you started as you set the kettle on the burner before swiveling around and leaning on the kitchen island to look at Chrollo, who was still observing the painting, “am I to assume she told you all my dirty little secrets then?”

Finally, Chrollo stopped looking at the painting and turned to look back at you. You noticed his hair was down. Brushed, but left to naturally fall around his face. It did make him seem more ‘everyday’, and you could only assume that was why he had done it. An attempt to be less iconic as he moved about the city in the day time. Hunters were frequent in Swardani, and they all were the kind to be eye catching. Blending into the common man was useful in avoiding their gaze as well as avoiding being noticed by normal civilians. Even his attire was average.

“She told me what was necessary.”

You wanted to ask what that was. Had she seen Pariston tie you up in his bedroom for a week? Had she seen how he had driven you to almost literal insanity? Had she seen all the times before that when he had physically hurt you?

And what of all that had she told Chrollo?

“When I saw you two days ago you said you would consider my plan and let me know if you would be a part of it. I guess you’ve made your decision since you’re here then?”

He nodded, making his way to the kitchen island. “I believe we have enough to gain from helping you to make it worthwhile.” You couldn’t help your heart picking up its pace in complete joy. Something must have changed on the outside as well because Chrollo smiled. “My only condition,” your heart sank at the words, “Is that it will have to wait a month.”

“A whole month?” you asked as Chrollo came around the island into the kitchen and you straightened to face him. “Why?” Honestly it didn’t bother you, but the curiosity as to why Chrollo had picked that time frame specifically was almost palpable. Though you weren’t quite sure why.

“I have a previous engagement to attend to,” he stated, stopping in front of you.

Just to use the ‘inconvenience’ as a bargaining chip in the future, you pretended to think it over for a few seconds before nodding. “I can make that work.”

Chrollo extended his right hand to you and you stared at it. “Then it is a deal.” You didn’t move to take his hand, knowing that most likely however he took abilities, it required his right hand. Most specialist abilities did. “If we’re to work together, you’ll have to trust me at least a little.”

His smile in this every day look was charming. He was almost another person entirely. You could feel he was the same, but visually it was such a change that it made you want to trust him. You had very little choice if you wanted his help, charming looks or not. With a firm grasp you clasped your hand into his and he shook it once solidly. But his fingers remained curled against yours tightly after. “I want you to use your ability again,” he said, with amusement when you had looked at him in confusion.

For the first time you felt a bit intimidated. Before you had been cautious, knowing Chrollo and his associates could derail your plan- or kill you but, that hadn’t been as concerning. But as the Phantom Boss stared into your eyes, hand clasping your right, you experienced the first feelings of intimidation you had felt in a long time.

He didn’t know about your specialist ability- or at least if he did somehow know, he had heard about it from Pakunoda and not yourself, which would be more concerning- but perhaps the intimidation stemmed from that knowledge.

But you had already had a nerve-wracking day, and spite was welling up in your heart. “Surely you have enough desires to fill ten people. Why do you need mine?”

“I’m intrigued. Feeling someone else’s desire was… new. I’m sure you know already how strange it can be. We go our entire lives only knowing our own wants and minds. But you can peek inside a human’s dark place with a touch. We’re selfish creatures, and we tend to keep our desires in furthest depths of our hearts. I want to see that again.”

Somehow Chrollo just talking about desires that way had gotten you excited. Had you activated your ability on accident while he spoke? Was it just that twisted part of you that had grown from your trauma that found the entire concept of what Chrollo said unbearably sexy?

You swallowed and nodded. His fingers relaxed so that you could move your hand again. “Can I touch you however I wish?” you asked. He merely nodded, observing your calculating gaze.

Idly, you wished you had seen Hisoka the night before. Taking just a sip off of his crazy brazen desires always made you feel bold. Figuring that Chrollo would have to do, you instead took your hand from his and seductively slid it to his neck. His flesh felt cool compared to your warm palm, but it was a pleasant contrast.

By now you were accustomed to how quickly the sensations would slide along your arm and to your brain. The rush of desire felt like a dizzy spell that washed over you when you stood up too fast. So far you hadn’t stumbled from the effect, but every time you wondered what it would take to knock you down.

This time was no different. As you drank down some of Chrollo’s desire the feeling of dizziness pricked its way up your arm and into your head in the form of a creeping deep blue. His immediate desires came to you and they were all tinged with a lusty need. Lust for knowledge, lust for objects, lust for thrills, lust for so many things.

Lust for you.

You blinked in slight shock as you felt that desire wash over you and Chrollo tilted his head forward a little. “I don’t feel anything.”

Had you planted that lust there two days ago when you had shared with him your desires? Or were these his own wants? It was impossible to tell. “Put your hands on me first,” you instructed.

Amused once more he placed both hands on your waist as you slid your free hand to his chest. A small wave of excitement rushed from your toes up as your eyes closed so you could focus.

Imagining it like images passing from your mind, through your hand, to his mind you thought about the burning inside of you to hurt. The pain you wanted to cause the one that had hurt you. Even just thinking about it made you excited. Your breath quickened, and a feeling of throbbing lust twisted to life between your legs.

Not controlling the thought process, you were back to your desire to take Chrollo in your excitement. Pushing your kitchen island free of clutter and feeling his hands on your body. His hand cupping your ass and pulling your hips into his. The feeling of his erection against your pelvis as his mouth covered yours in a hungry need.

His hand dug into your hair, pulling it so hard that the pain made your eyes immediately open to realize that your day dream of desires was mostly reality. His hand was actually gripping your ass and pulling you into his body, his mouth moving against yours in a way that left you pressing against him in delight.

“Chrollo, I want you to fuck me,” you muttered, hands going to his pants and undoing the buttons.

His eyes slid open and you could tell he was already under the influence of your ability, though you had issued no command directly. Was sharing your desire enough to cloud his mind and open him to your orders more easily? The slight dazed look in his eyes said it was. “Take my panties off,” you commanded and reluctantly his hand released your hair and ass.

Both hands slid down the sides of the skirt you had worn to give a professional appearance just hours ago. “On your knees,” you commanded when he came into contact with your skin. Obediently he dropped to his knees immediately. “Now take them off.”

Long, dexterous fingers slid up to your hip, gripping the band of your panties and dragging them off. You were too hot, too ready, it felt agonizingly slow. You lifted your feet so that the underwear could be freed and moved to the side. As your feet touched back down Chrollo slid a hand up the outside of your leg and you shook under his touch. “I can still feel your desire in my body,” he mumbled.

“Yeah? What does it feel like?” you asked as he coaxed your legs to spread by pushing against your inner thighs with both hands.

He was quiet, watching his fingers slide against your labia and slowly they grew wet from that tame level of contact. “It feels like I’m not awake or asleep. Some half dream,” he finally responded. Admittedly he sounded half asleep, his voice was low and distracted.

“Does the feeling of touching me seem like a dream?”

“No. This feels real.” As if to emphasize the point he pushed his fingers up to touch your wet clit and you bit your lower lip. “Perhaps as my… supplier you are my anchor,” he said, standing to his feet with the energy of someone who was drunk and had an idea they very much wanted to try, but with less swaying. “My anchor to reality in the dream.”

Your hips rocked against Chrollo’s steady hand. Already you were sure you could climax like this, but it wasn’t enough. You could feel your body beg for him to be inside of you. Focusing up you brought your hand against his face, brushing his hair from his eyes as your palm rested on his cheek. “Chrollo, tell me what my desires are making you want.”

He looked almost frustrated- brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed. “I want to please you,” he finally said, moving so close that he felt like he was looming over you, one hand still cupping you and moving his fingers in some pattern you had yet to figure out but was causing your breath to quicken.

Your left hand gripped the counter behind you as you leaned backwards into it. Chrollo’s words were rolling around in your head, “I want to please you.” The memory of Hisoka’s low and seductive voice asking, “Did I please you?” The fingers of your left hand were so tense, gripping the granite countertop so hard that they were starting to ache. ‘Yes, I want you to yearn to please me,’ a voice said in the back of your mind. ‘I want your body to ache for my touch so badly you beg me.’

The kettle behind on the stove screamed and you felt your mind snap awake, like you had been dreaming with Chrollo before and now you were back in reality.

But it didn’t feel like reality. Your senses felt sharp, each press of Chrollo’s body to your own was distinctive and different, the smell of his skin was sharp enough that you could pick him out from any other human in this moment. His eyes were still dreamily looking into your face, open and ready for commands.

“Stop,” you told him without using your power. Your voice had been strong, but not reprimanding, and his hand immediately went still. With a gentle guiding push, you moved his wrist away from your body before moving around him to turn the stove off, taking the kettle away from the heat of the stove.

You didn’t have to look at Chrollo to know he was watching you, curious where things were going to go next- possibly suffering as he waded lost in his and your desires that swam through his head. But you left him to suffer as you poured the hot water into the two waiting cups and the teapot.

“If you please me, I’ll make sure to return the favor,” you said while picking up the two cups of pure hot water. Chrollo lifted his head up just a fraction, and you could see it was a sign of interest. You shot him a look over your shoulder as you walked past him towards the living room, trying to urge him with a look to follow you.

With a soft clank you sat the teacups down on the side table before sliding the coffee table to the side of the room. It was obvious by the way he watched you that Chrollo had no idea what you were up to, and that was fine by you as you beckoned him with one index finger to come closer.

You ran both hands over his chest, over his shoulders, then clasped them behind his neck. As you sidled your body up to his, he instinctively put his hands on your hips. Your heart felt steady in your chest, though you couldn’t be sure how it was maintaining its steady pace, and every one of your nerves still felt sharp. This had happened with Hisoka too. Was this what you had heard some hunters call ‘hunter space’? Where everything seemed so clear, each move of your prey was as easy to determine as your own breath?

Chrollo kissed you, pulling your body into his like a gentle lover. You brushed your fingers on the nape of his neck, each of the desires he had been feeling were just as strong. The temporary break from your touch hadn’t yet diminished anything.

Good.

Rubbing the base of his skull with your fingers, you encouraged those feelings. Your desire and want for him to please you. How you wanted him so badly to do what you wanted.

“Adra,” he mumbled when you pulled away.

“Yes, Chrollo?” you asked with an air of superiority, like one would respond to a sweet child.

You busied yourself pulling his shirt up and over his head, making him break contact so you could complete your task. “What have you done to me?” he asked when he could see your face again. He put his right hand to your face and your heart squeezed in fear again.

“Exactly what you asked,” you responded. “Chrollo, you won’t take my power, right?” As you asked you ran your hands down his back, staring into his dark eyes before turning your face to kiss his palm sweetly.

It had been a command in disguise of a question, and he responded, “I am not sure I would want it.”

You laughed. “Finally something you don’t want, hm?” A small, lazy smile came to his lips. It really was as if Chrollo was still dreaming or perhaps intoxicated. “Do you still want me?” To emphasize the question, you pressed your pelvis into him again.

A heavy breath answered, and you smiled. Earlier you had gotten the button on his pants open, but they had remained on his hips until this point. Easily you zipped the front open and knelt while you pulled his remaining clothing off. It was tempting to lick his dick, just to get his reactions, but you had another game in mind so instead you pressed your palm to the underside of it and rubbed against the sensitive extremity on your way to standing up once more. His hands gripped your shoulders as if he needed steadying. But perhaps it was just how he was still anchoring himself in his ‘dream’.

“Lay on the floor,” you told him, giving him a reaffirming squeeze before letting him go. He managed a curious look at you before he did as he was told, while you retrieved the two teacups. They were much more tolerable to touch on the outside now, but the water was still uncomfortably hot.

With a foot you pushed Chrollo’s right hand out to the side, then standing over him- one leg on each side of his body- you carefully kicked his left to match. “Perfect,” you praised with a ghastly lewd grin. Chrollo looked from one hand to the other and by the time he looked at you, you were on your knees. You kept your body high enough so that while your thighs touched his sides, your slick pussy didn’t brush against him at all.

You were still dressed, other than the panties he had already removed, so as you leaned over him to gently place the warm tea cups in each of his palms, he got a nice shot down your blouse to your breasts. “Here is my game,” you announced, keeping your body low over his as you looked down into his face. “I’m going to ride you, and you must keep the teacups exactly as they are right now. If they spill, I’ll stop. And if that isn’t punishment enough… well I can always think of something extra. But if you can keep them on your hands without spilling any of the water, I’ll ride you until you come. Does that sound fun?” Teasingly you slid a finger down his chest, swirling it right over his heart as you waited for his response.

“I’m interested,” he confessed, lifting his fingers on each hand up then back down in sequence as if testing the cup’s balance. “This shouldn’t be very hard.”

“Hm,” you replied as you sat up once more and took his dick into hand. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Your skirt had slid up to accommodate the spread of your legs, but it still hugged you in such a way that your pussy was just peeking out from below the fabric, and Chrollo could barely see what you did if he strained his neck. Slowly you rubbed his dick along yourself, using your hand on the top side to keep him steady. Naturally you were using your right hand to hold his dick still, just in case you felt inclined to add a few desires or commands for extra fun. Your left hand was on his lower stomach, helping to steady you as you rocked your hips.

His eyes slid closed, and you wondered if the only thing that felt real to him was your body rubbing against him. He couldn’t grip anything to stabilize now. His hands pinned by the weight of the warm liquid would help to aid in his feeling of listlessness. He was powerless to help himself regain control or a sense of security as he drifted through the sea of desire he was still lost in.

As a test, you lifted your hips and positioned him at your opening before tilting your body and sliding him against the outside of your body once more and his right hand flexed around the tea cup making the liquid wobbled inside of it, but none escaped to the sides. “Careful,” you warned raising your hips once more, “You got close that time.”

A very apparent frown let you know he was not amused by your double meaning and with a low chuckle you at last slid him inside of you.

The feeling of being filled as you moved your hips down made your fingers dig into his stomach. Intentionally you let out a groan of enjoyment as you lifted up and down a few times, not falling all the way into his pelvis just yet. Chrollo wasn’t watching, whatever he was feeling in his daze was too distracting for him as he kept his eyes closed while you moved. Only his fingers gripping the teacups tightly in both hands let you know he was feeling each movement.

“Come on now, Chrollo. Won’t you make some noise for me?” you half commanded, half requested as you leaned down and ran your right hand over his throat.

His eyes slid open to watch your expression as you moved your hips down completely with a decisive bounce. A noise that you decided sounded something like a ‘gah’ finally escaped against his will and you felt pleased. “That pleases me,” you praised, pressing your thumb to his throat and running it down. “And you said you wanted to please me, right?”

Quickly now, you bounced your hips up and down earning groan from Chrollo as his eyes closed again. A warm building sensation grew with every noise he made, no matter how small or slight it was. You sat up again and moved your hips against him, coming down fully with each grind of your body. Every time you felt a rush fill you, again and again.

Before long your own moans of pleasure added to Chrollo’s. His grip on the teacups never lessened, but as you came down particularly hard one started to tilt towards the ground.

“Careful now. You’re about to spill,” you said in a husky voice. Sincerely you hoped he didn’t spill now, you were so close.

The hand corrected itself immediately and you mumbled a word of praise as you kept your pace. Chrollo was close too you were sure, as he started to lift his hips just a few inches to meet your thrusts and you could feel that tiny movement help him hit a spot that almost made your legs buckle under you the third time he hit it.

You groaned his name as you watched his face while you came, pressing into him and holding it for a moment while the feeling of pleasure exploded inside of you. Each nerve felt like it released some tense feeling that had been coiling up tight. The surge of dopamine in your mind was a special high and you relished it.

But as you held still and enjoyed your orgasm, Chrollo tried to move against you as best he could, begging you with his body to keep going. “I didn’t forget you,” you said sweetly, taking a fresh breath. “You’ve performed my game this long, you will get your prize.”

Using both arms to support you on either side of his body you situated yourself in a way that would allow you to move quickly and clamp your inner wall as much as you could while you came down. You had been so distracted with your own pleasure that his watching you had escaped your notice. It wasn’t clear when he had started to watch your every move, but now as you moved him inside of you again and enjoyed the feeling of orgasm being dragged out by your movement you were painfully aware.

The warm water shook in the cups as Chrollo fought to control his hands while you moved. You were sure the thought of dumping the cups and grabbing you was strong, but the knowledge you would stop was too close to the front of his mind. But as he lifted his hips again you could feel his release inside. You let out a low sigh as you waited out his orgasm, feeling the muscles in your legs twitch with the pain of stress which caused them to tremble.

As you leaned to take the cups from his hands, you lifted yourself off of Chrollo’s dick, and the air against you made you shiver.

Chrollo sat up once freed, which startled you as you held the two cups carefully, so the well-preserved water wouldn’t spill. His eyes were bright, aware, focused. Had the completion of his desire freed him? Was it the fresh hit of dopamine? You weren’t sure. But as your bare ass rested against his lap you did your best not to feel exposed since he had returned to his competent self.

“Was it what you expected?” you asked, unsure of what else to say.

“No. It was… nothing like what I expected,” he confessed. His eyes were no longer clouded, but he was staring right at your chest while he thought, though it didn’t seem like it was intentional. Your chest just happened to be in his thinking space. “I think you lied to me.”

You gripped the cups tightly. Had he figured out that you could issue commands? He shouldn’t have been aware of that as everything you had done fell within a level one power level. You never had even breached a level two surge of power. “Lied to you about what?”

The dark of his eyes looked so directly into yours that it made you feel pinned down. “If what I felt of your desires are to be believed, I do not think that you can be satisfied. In this, or in your revenge.”

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

FIC COMP: The Kidverse Arcs

#1 - And Baby Makes Three: The Arrival Of William Dean Harvelle

He had come early. Jo didn’t expect him to come for another three weeks and while she was glad to know the torture of having to stay at home, off of her feet, and waddle around with some parasitic creature growing inside of her, she couldn’t help but be worried at the distance between now and the due date. She’d thought it was just normal pains to begin with, not bothering to move off the couch from where she was watching a documentary on censorship in the media for lack of anything else. It wasn’t until they had continued for almost an hour on and off that she realised what was happening and had called Grey to grab her overnight bag and get her to the hospital as soon as possible.

The entire process had been over before she really realised what was happening, doctors throwing around words like ‘low heart beat’, 'not breathing’ and 'substance abuse’ as she lay on the bed in the aftermath, not really hearing what was going on until she realised that when in all the films and Lamaze class videos they should be handing her the baby, the doctors were instead crowded around the small crib that would be his bed. Grey was the only thing keeping her calm as she realised it, his uncrushed hand brushed across her cheek and rested against her neck carefully, catching her gaze and he spoke soothingly to her until the nurses came to get her to clean up as her son was wheeled out of the room without her even seeing him.

It wasn’t until two days later that Jo was shown to the premature ward, where she could look through the glass at all the other babies and her own, tiny, pale haired boy with the name plate 'Harvelle’ for the first time. Once again Grey had been the one there with her, hand tightly wrapped around her waist and was the only thing that kept her from crashing to the ground when the doctors came around to talk about the boy’s chances being higher than the days before but still worrying. That she’d sat through months of carrying the little thing inside of her safe and sound, and then the second he was out in the real world he was already in danger was hard for her to take as she got a final glimpse of his closed eyes and blond hair before she’d passed out.

During her first chance to feed her son, still not named as Jo wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it if he didn’t pull through, it was also the first time she’d gotten to hold him. The feeling was something completely different to what she expected, not the overwhelming joy she thought would happen as his bright green eyes had looked back at her during his first feed, but she was still happy as she brushed his small tuft of hair back from his forehead. When the nurse went to take him off of her and back to the ward, Jo had stopped her and asked Grey to hold him as well - the completely uncertain grasp he had on the boy was soon gone as she watched her friend get more comfortable with her son in his arms. She wouldn’t tell anyone else, but she’s certain the smile on his face was even wider than her own, even as the different eye and hair colour both scream out that there was no way he was the boy’s father.

The first visitors she had arrived four days after she’d come in, not having gotten the message out until that morning when the doctors finally told her that the baby was in the clear and that they could take him home in a month - just to check for any other issues. Her surrogate-father had been the first to show up, is new partner in tow, and the pair carried in a slew of toys - including a blanket Bobby had refused to let Jody see the underside of which had a Devil’s Trap sewn into it. The older woman had looked confused when she’d come into the room to find Grey holding the baby and wandering about the room as Jo sat on her bed, surrounded by papers she’d been unable to look at for a few younger hunters.

It was on her last morning in the hospital that she as sat, fully dressed and waiting, on the end of her bed with the birth certificate in front of her that she brought the topic up to Grey. He’d come in with her discharge papers and a nurse trailed behind him to come for the certificate, and as Jo’d turned the papers around - child’s name filled in as 'William Dean Harvelle’ and her name and signature under mother - it was obvious he didn’t understand for a brief second before the grin split across his face. She hadn’t mentioned it, she hadn’t even thought about having to mention it, and when she watched him quickly sign his first and borrowed last name, alongside a signature, under the position of father she hadn’t even worried about him saying no.

#2 - Back In Black: The Return Of A Father

The first place he turned his old, slightly beaten bike towards after waking up in the Washington storage-hole was towards the last place he knew the loves of his life were - a little rest stop, just off the highway through Nebraska. What he found when he got there was enough to make his blood run cold; nothing, just the darkened dirt where Harvelle’s Roadhouse used to stand.

He had no idea how he’d gotten back to the hide-out, or how long he’d been out - obviously long enough for a thick, clogging layer of dust to settle on everything he owned and for his only home to disappear from the face of the earth. Too long given the last thing William remembered was the barrel of his friend’s gun pointed at his head as he begged to for help as the burning, clawing feeling of both his wrecked body and the demon infesting his mind ran through him. To him, it was barely a week since he kissed his wife goodbye and put his knife in his daughter’s hand with the promise of being home to see just how long an apple peel she could get this time.

Tires turned towards South Dakota, he fled straight to the next safest place he knew Ellen would go, hoping against hope as he got closer and closer that she would be there and safe with their little girl. The changes in the roads, the cities and towns, and cars he passed didn’t register at all, nothing but how good it felt to have his hair held down by the helmet and the terror that had flooded him first seeing the empty patch of land disappearing with each mile.

The blond hunter arrived out front of the dishevelled looking salvage yard, expecting to see the aging dark bitch and her newest puppy litter outside on the porch as he kicked the park out, once again being disappointed by the lack of familiarity. Bill knocked loudly on the front door, knuckles rapped on the wood in a quick rhythm as he waited for the usually prompt hunter to get to the door. To say it was a shock when he was faced with a much older man, obviously related to the other hunter if the facial growth and penchant for baseball caps was any indication, was an understatement.

“I didn’t know old Bobster had any family. Or that he let them into ‘is house! Can you get him for me?” If the startled look the older man had gotten when he opened the door was shocked, it was a very mild shock compared to the reaction to Bill’s words and question. Obviously the older Singer wasn’t used to people showing up, understandable, Bill thought, given how unwelcoming the man, just over ten years his senior, Bobby could be. Deciding to be delicate about it, he unclipped his helmet and swung it off between his hands as he tried for a bumbling young man with his first pair of two wheels. “Urgent business needs attending to.”

All the act got him was a huge wave in the face and the end of a gun barrel pointed right between his eyes as both men looked at one another, one face unreadable and the other with the look of a very angry, wet cat. “Not. A. Demon.” Bill took a step back and to the side as he spoke, careful to keep his eyes on the other as he wiped what he assumed to be holy water from his face, and reached quickly for the silver cross around his neck before he waved it before the other, fingers touching. “Not a shifter either. I guess you know what kind of business I’m after Bobby for, so I’ll just come in and-”

“Iron.” The gruff response, alongside the almost furious twist to the old man’s face made Bill frown and cock an eyebrow, not quite sure how that could be relevant. “Bill, you need to touch some iron before I let you step foot in my house.”

“Your hou- /Bobby?!/” The blond’s eyes widened as he stared at the other, noting the family features could really easily be the one and the same features of the grumpy hunter he’d been introduced to by Rufus eight years earlier. “Bobby what the fuck happened to you, man?”

“I said iron, Bill. I’ll explain…whatever I can when I know you’re human.” Bobby was surprisingly unreceptive or friendly, given he’d seen the man only four months ago in a stop in on the way home from Miami. Bill thought that the last time the other had forgiven him for accidentally bleeding on his kitchen table, but maybe not if the cool reception was anything to go by.

He waved his hand for a second before he just dropped his helmet, fished out one of the knives he’d picked up from the locker to replace the one he’d given his little Jo and pressed the iron blade against the side of his wrist before holding it out. “Human, through and through. Now lemme in old..er man.”

Bobby stepped back, not quite lowering the gun until Bill had made his way through the Devil’s Trap above the door and into the main lounge-turned-study. The second he spotted the worn old sofa in the same spot as always, the young man felt less and less like a stranger in a strange land at the first familiar thing since he woke up and found his spare bike hidden in the bushes around the back of his store space. The clunks and groans of wood behind him as he settled down on the couch cushion, more worn than when he was there some month’s back, let him know that the much-older-than-last-they-met Bobby Singer had entered behind him, and if the doors on both sides of the room being shut meant anything, it was that there was something seriously wrong going on. And the only thing Bill could attribute that to was the other’s sudden aging.

“So, what happened Singer? You were a much fresher daisy back when I swung past for that patch up back in June.” The teasing tone was easy to hold right up until his hazel eyes met the other’s, Bobby’s mouth twitched in a way that said there was very bad news about to spill from his lips and that he needed to stop playing around. “Seriously, Bobby, what’s happened?”

“Harvelle..” Bobby sounded as worn down as the cap over his brow as he let out a sigh, hand running over his short trimmed beard for a second in contemplation before he looked at the other and asked seriously. “What is the last thing you remember? The very last thing.”

“John’s gun, he was going to kill the thing that jumped me, but I guess he subdued it somehow instead. I just remember that, and then coming to over in Washington. Everything else is null time.” It was hard to think about that moment, and he rested his hand over his stomach where he remembers holding himself together behind the chokes of blood, the pain simmering again in his mind as his thumb rubbed across the area as though holding in the phantom problems again. “Why? What’s what I remember have to do with you getting old?”

“This…is not my lucky day is it. You’re going to need a drink for this.” Without actually waiting for the answer, the older hunter was up and back with two, slightly grimy, glasses and a bottle of whiskey. As Bill raised his glass to his lips, Bobby let out a quiet exclamation before speaking to him again normally, a slightly bitter tone to his voice. “Try not to spill that, but John did kill you. Going on seventeen years ago now.”

“Sev- seventeen /what?/” There was a second where William thought he would loose his glass as he choked and spluttered on the drink he’d taken, eyes wet around the edges as he gasped yet stared at the other in disbelief. “Fuck, pull the other one you bastard. What kind of-”

“I’m not joking, Harvelle. It’s the gods honest truth.” Bobby’s tone was sharp, laced with a slight anger at not having his word believed, but the blond hunter remembers when the man in front of him was greener than that boy Ash’s face was his first night when his first step into the Roadhouse was to a screaming, flying mass of Bill’s little girl threatening him to stay away from her daddy or she’d cut off the tackle her Mama always said boys liked playing with so much while he slept. It was hard to believe much of what he said off the bat like that, even with the visible age difference having grown even wider. “You’ve been dead since that hunt in '95.”

“But… what happened to the Roadhouse then?” Bill’s eyes fixated on the other’s face, still watering but blinking quickly as the fear from before and of not seeing any sign of either of his girls’ around settled back into the soon to be frantic hunter. “What happened to Ellen? Did..when did it burn down? Where is she? What’s happened to her? And J- …Singer, where is my daughter?”

The older man’s look hardened at the other’s questions inexplicably to the other, an almost possessive element to his response quickly quietened the questions and near accusing tone Bill had. “Ellen is... Well... The Roadhouse got destroyed by demons six years ago… Ash didn’t make it out. As for Jo…” Bobby’s voice got tight as he explained about Ash, though it staying as he spoke about Jo complimented the way he paused to down his whiskey before leaning back in his chair, arms folded tightly across his chest and rubbed at his beard for a second considering how to continue.

The news on Ash hit harder than Bill expected it to, the boy had barely been in his life for a year, most of that lost to months on the road only to return to find just how close the genius was to being family each time he came back home. He’d been the one to baby sit Jo at night when Ellen was short staffed from what his wife would tell him, he’d practice identifying leaves and monsters and patterns with his little girl only to find out she had a better system all taught to her by 'Miles’. Ash had made his way into the Harvelle family, and it had been barely a week to the hunter since he’d seen the slightly grubby faced boy-man pretending to lose at poker with Joanna before actually finding it hard to come back from the first loss. But he barely had time to think about that as his heart sank at the way Bobby moved and spoke, not acknowledging hearing any of it other than to stare at the other, awaiting whatever horrible fate had befallen his daughter because he wasn’t there to protect her.

“She’s good, Bill, I believe. Keeps in contact calling for information on this hunt or that, or reporting something through her own knowledge base that might be useful.  Seems happy enough, all things considered.” Bobby’s jaw clenched after he spoke, unwilling to speak further on the matter. Not that Bill really cared, all he heard was that she was doing okay, that she was happy - everything else was a blur as he sank back in relief, until the word /hunt/ stuck out in his mind.

“Did you just say someone is letting my little girl hunt? She’s just a child, Bobby!” The passing of time didn’t connect at all to the young man as he envisioned his little girl, pigtails and awkwardly, knobbly knees and all, running out into one of the many hunt situations that he’d found himself in before. Unable to reconcile it in such a way that could make the idea anything near alright. “What do you mean all things considered? Is she injured? Hurt? Did something get her? Where is she? And her mother, Bobby? /Where are they/.” His voice got more and more aggressive as he spoke, the worry and things the other said getting to him as Bill stood in a flash, hands bunched in the other’s shirt front to lift him - as though it would make the answer come out quicker, like his intimidation could make his family reappear safe and sound at his elbow if he just tried hard enough.

It wasn’t something Bobby was unused to from the other hunter, the infamous Harvelle temper coming not only from Ellen’s side but William’s too, though it had been a long, long time for the older man since anyone had attempted to intimidate, threaten and possibly brutalise the truth out of him. His large hands wrapped around the other’s, a short twist and he had freed himself from the now whimpering, worried grip of the Harvelle man. “You can take up her hunting with anyone you like, but Jo isn’t a little girl any more. She’s.. as old as you were when you died now, Bill. As for the rest - your daughter is fine, she’s in Minnesota, and it’s her story to tell her /father/, not mine.” The bitter tone was re-emerging, though Bill was perceptive enough this time as he scanned the other’s face to realise it was addressed internally rather than at him or anyone else.

“And Ellen?” Bill’s voice wavered slightly, not that the worry about his only daughter was gone the focussed turned to the woman he’d met in high school, who was the first girl to sit on the back of his bike and scream to go faster not to stop, and who was the mother of his child. Bobby’d been evasive when discussing her, even more so than the obvious aversion to sharing whatever secrets his little girl must have. “Where is she, Bobby?”

“She’s gone… Ran off to Mexico a long while ago, and she...she turned her back on Jo and us all, Bill,” The hesitance to explain was clear as day, as the older hunter dipped his head forward, obscuring his face with the bill of his cap. It took a moment for the words to sink in and the delicate way he spoke them was like ice over the boiling rage that flashed up at their meaning. Bobby added calmly and rationally, in the same gruff, almost possessive tone as he’d used earlier - it now making much more sense to the twitching, blond man, “You’ve been dead, Harvelle. For almost twenty years. Things have changed. /People/ change. It’s been a long time, and there are almost none of us left of our generation, Bill, and those of us that /are/ left can’t keep living in the past.”

Bill’s teeth ground together as he looked the few inches down at the other man, never having felt the distinct differences in their ages as pronounced as now - the now even older hunter, maturity and rational arguments soothing over the rash desire of the younger to beat down the other. “It’s not in the past for me, though. It was last week. Tell me, Singer, what am I supposed to do now? Am I even going to recognise my /wife/ when she walks through the door, or am I going to meet a stranger?” He at least had the decency to look ashamed after the words left his mouth, the anger at the idea of having died, of not remembering, of how much things must have changed but without him knowing or being there for it making him react even worse than his temper would usually bring about. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Bill.. This wasn’t easy, it’s never goddamn easy, and we’ve all had to do this too. The reliving thing. The waking up and forgetting it’s not three years ago, that the president is black and that M.A.S.H isn’t even on re-runs any more. It’s hard, but you start with the places you’re missed the most..” Bobby, to his credit, didn’t back down from the glares the other sent him, despite the differences in physical strength and the obvious anger, confusion and distrust coursing though the other man. Right up until Bill seemed to be listening, at which point the older turned back to his desk, scribbled an address onto the back of his newspaper and held it towards the other - the intent of it easy to tell as his eyes flickered to the clock above the fire place. “Go see her, Bill. Ellen… She’s not her any more. But Jo on the other hand.”

The sentence trailed off, as Bill’s fingers snatched the piece of paper from the other like a mad man, the lump Bobby’s words made feeling thick and hard in his throat with all the things, the accusations, the worries, the confusion, that he wanted to bring up but couldn’t. There was a truth to it, and as much as the idea sounded wrong to him - that the life he had barely a week ago was completely gone - he couldn’t fight it when the date of the paper read out a date he never got to see. He never got to see a lot of things, but if the black ink address on the flip side, a place somewhere not to far from here, was any indication (or the way Bobby seemed to be leaving it in his hands what he did, stay for one or go to the other, as he left the room) he didn’t have to miss seeing even more.

He didn’t bother to call out a goodbye, knowing he’d be back and probably sooner than this visit was from his last - though maybe not, depending what his wife had to say about it; Bill scrunched the paper in his hand tightly as he stepped out the front door. His other hand picked up his helmet, settling it upon his head as he tucked the address inside his jacket above his heart where it would be safe, before the young hunter mounted his bike and peeled out of the dirt roadway, headed away from the junk yard and one half of his old life and towards the closest way to the other half of his old home.

#3 - Baby Love: Reunions Of A Special Kind

The house that resided at the address scribbled down on the fold-worn paper was not what Bill was expecting, especially not when his last house visit had suggested the owner was in the life. A thigh high chain link fence wrapped the front yard and as far as he could see around the sides of the small house, the gate was made out of something that appeared to be very rusted but not iron and had more locks than the hunter expected such a non-defensive fence to have. As he kicked the foot stand out from the side of his bike and parked upon the small strip of grass on the other side of the footpath, he shook his hair out of its dark helmet as he surreptitiously took in the outside of where he was told his daughter lived.

Locks locked, the hunter opted to just jump the fence, the grind of salt on his hands when he let go made him smile. Obviously his little girl was even more creative than her mother had ever been. The flowers and bushes growing around the front yard would have given him pause in any one else’s house, the number of items required for hex bags and spells visible across the small distance was enough to make him think maybe she was more out of the life like the other hunter he visited was than in. More protections were visible under scrutiny as he got to the front door, the shadows of certain paint work and the faint edge of a symbol carved under the doormat made the smile widen as he reached out to ring the doorbell before running his hand through his hair and straightening his shirt. This could be just as hard as the reintroduction to Bobby had been, maybe even harder, he mused to himself.

There were noises from inside before the unmistakable sound of a child’s voice reached him through the thick ashwood  “Me get! Me get, please pleaseplease!” Bill blinked in surprise at the sound, stepping back to try and see if he could see any other appropriate houses as obviously he had the wrong one, before the door jerked open to a shock of blond hair.

Whoever he was couldn’t have been more than three years if the still slightly wobbly balance was any indicator, and the older hunter couldn’t work out where to start as he stared down into the suspicious eyes of the little kid. The boy’s green eyes reminded him of someone’s though he couldn’t put his finger on it, and the uncertain grasp on a very large glass of water was all he could see before the beverages contents were thrown into his face. Or rather, they were intended to, instead splashing all over his shirt and leather jacket.

“Um, ‘cuse me. You smoke?” The boy peered up at him earnestly, both hands now grasped tightly around the glass as he stared at him and Bill tried to work out if he was being offered a cigarette by a preschooler for a second before shaking his head. Either way, there was no way the answer was going to be yes in front of this child.

“No, no smoke here.” After a beat, Bill knelt down to the other’s eye level, a sincere smile on his face as the child let out an authoritative nod and stepped back to set his glass on the floor behind him. “Any chance there’s a woman called Joa-”

“'ife time!” The older man was cut off in the middle of his question as the little blond span around again holding a shiny butter knife in his hand, the blunt tip pointed right at Bill’s nose as the child smiled gleefully at him. “No shifties here, or walkies.. or wolfmen.. or…or deejinnie, or 'rain-suckers or /braaaains/ies!”

As the boy spoke he waved the hand holding the kitchen utensil just shy of the hunter’s face, though the blade didn’t worry Bill at all as a smile of his own broke out at the terms and knowledge being displayed. To make things easier and stop the kid from possibly hitting himself with the butter knife, he reached out and wrapped his hand around the flat edge and pulled the piece out of the boy’s grasp gently, twirling it over his own fingers as he spoke. “Don’t worry, son. I’m not here to eat or destroy anyone. I’m just looking for my daughter.” Bill moved to stand and move inside, before the boy shook off his wonder at the hunter’s dexterity and put a hand up to stop him, the other wrapped tightly around the door.

“Wait! Have to touch the door knockknock.” A small, chubby finger pointed up to the iron knocker in the middle of the door, the first piece of the metal that Bill had seen on what had to obviously be a hunter hotspot or child centre much in the way the bar used to be for the little Winchester boys and the few other children who were on the road. This idea was reinforced as the boy added in a downright depressed tone, “Daddy’d know without, but he’s not here right now. He’s at work. Wish he weren’t though.”

“Well, we all wish he weren’t, but he’s doing something important right now.” Bill reached out and ran his hand over the metal before holding it out for the little boy’s inspection. As the kid turned his hand as though expecting it to change, the hunter couldn’t help but smile remembering the few times his daughter would hand out shots of holy water while her mother poured the after whiskey turn. “Isn’t that right?”

The boy nodded as his hand was released before he was ushered inside, the click of the door shutting as Bill looked around the thin, long hallway. There were a few coats of different lengths hanging by the door, the unmistakable outline of a shot gun hidden behind one and light streaming in from the staircase to the side and the door towards what seemed to be the kitchen at the back of the house. “So, do you know wher-”

“Need to go in the kitchen. All the visitors go straight to the kitchen.” Bill let out a laugh as the boy tugged at his hand and guided him down the hall, past two other doors (one which was obviously the lounge room if the sound of what he thought was Bugs Bunny was any indication) and a rather dark oil painting into the bright kitchen. “You, stay, Mr…?”

The boy’s question made the blond man realise he hadn’t asked the young child his own name yet as he took in the boy’s appearance; the rumpled dark blue t-shirt with the words 'vworp vworp' blazoned across the front over faded and torn jeans alongside the dishevelled mop of hair just added to the man’s opinion that this boy was obviously another hunter’s child. “Well, my name’s Bill. What would yours be, son?”

He didn’t expect the reaction he got at that, the happy sound of the child’s laughter hit home the way his own daughter’s always did. “Me too! Though Mommy makes 'eryone call me Billy, because she don’t like the name Bill.” Billy’s smile was a little too wide for his face, though the hunter couldn’t help but smile back at the cheerful look and sheer amusement at such a similar name, before the boy added in a loud whisper, “She always says naughty words to whoever calls me that.”

The almost conspiratorial look on the little boy’s face as he spoke of the words his mother used was so familiar that Bill could have almost sworn it was like looking down at a sharper cheeked version of his daughter at that age when she’d try to talk him into letting her hold onto his 'special ghostie knife’. “Well then, we’ll make sure to point out how your name and mine are the same, won’t we /Bill/?” He reached out a finger instinctively to tap against the boy’s nose as he joked with him, smile widening as Billy laughed loudly again.

It was then, as the pair sat sharing an unexpected joke with matching grins, that the sound of heavy footsteps down the staircase caught both of the blond’s attention. Bill wasn’t sure what to think as he realised this must be Jo, it had to be Jo coming now. He deserved to see his little girl after such a long time, and as he jerked to his feet, he almost forgot all about the little boy in front of him as he stared in anticipation as the movement got closer and a warm call came from the hallway, “Did you do everythin’ I taught you, Billyboy? 'Cause I’ll have to tell your Daddy all 'bout it when he gets back if you did.”

Bill swallowed thickly hearing for the first time in ages - well, he wasn’t technically sure how long but it had to have been a long while - the sound of his daughter’s voice. Deeper and more mature than the high pitched, gleeful child’s voice he remembered, though it still held the same happy tone through it as he savoured every second of it. He didn’t even hear the boy before him’s response, other than the vague mouth movements he saw out of the corner of his eye as the toddler waddled towards the door with a proud smile on his face, until a word stuck out to him. “Wait.. What do you mean mommy..?!”

His question was answered the second the words left his mouth as a woman around his own age who resembled so thoroughly his own little Joanna appeared around the door to scoop up Billy into her arms with the same wide, proud smile on her face that he’s sure used to appear on his when he would do the same to her. The familiarity of the little boy, the way he talked about his mommy and daddy, the lack of other children, the comment about his name; they all suddenly made sense as Bill stared in shock into the wide, almost terrified eyes of his now adult daughter.

“J..Jo?” Bill could barely recognise his own voice as he struggled to say the name aloud as he gazed at her, jaw dropped open in uncertainty as he shifted a foot closer. The woman before him looked every bit what he expected his daughter to when she was older, right down to the messy pony tail, the faintly visible scarring over her toned tan arms, the faint dark circles under her eyes that all hunter’s eventually get; all except the petrified look on her face or the squirming armful of child in her arms. “Is that really you..?”

“I.. /Daddy/?” Her voice cracked on the words as her face twisted into something much more heartbreaking than the terror from before that Bill could barely stand to look back at her as she set Billy, her /son/, down on the kitchen bench closest to her without looking. “Bob..Bobby said..”

Bill didn’t give her a chance to finish her thought, not caring what the other hunter must have tried to tell her at all, as he strode the few feet between them to wrap his daughter up in his arms unable to wait a second longer. It was nothing like the last time they’d embraced, not even a fortnight ago for him but over two decades for his child, when he’d lifted her off the ground with ease and pressed a kiss to her forehead and he promised to be home before bedtime on Sunday. She was too big to lift any more, even if she wasn’t even as high as his shoulders. Her hair was pulled back in one section rather than split in two on either side of her face. She was shaking and clinging onto him like she’d never let go again, rather than the warm but unable to fully reach grasp of the last time.

“Mommy? Mommy?! //Mommy!//" It wasn’t until the demanding sound of a child’s voice, not the almost constant sing-song tone his little daughter always had, washed over the pair of them that they were able to untangle themselves again. "What the hell, Mommy? You shouldn’t be hugging so hard now. Aunty Shady says you 'ave be careful with the babymuffins.” Billy stared at the pair of them in the dead serious way children have, the reprimand not making sense to him while it brought a watery smile and choked up laugh out of the woman who was now his daughter.

“The babymuffins are okay, Billy, I promise.” Jo’s hand slipped slowly from his fore arm as she moved to scoop her child up again, as she raised her other hand to wipe the tear tracks from her cheeks as she looked back at Bill with a mixture of joy and uncertainty that hit right through him. “Though I thought… I thought your Daddy said not to say that word.”

“You say all the time, though. Only Daddy doesn’t like it.” The boy’s rebuttal made Bill smile as he focussed on the open amusement and curiousity on his, he guesses, grandson’s face rather than the complex emotions on his little Joanna’s he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to ever understand or fix; though as he caught Billy’s attention it gained an accusing quality so reminiscent of Jo’s when she didn’t believe the bar flies stories fully. “Mr. Bill… why did you hug Mommy like that?”

“Because I haven’t in far too long a time.” The response was out of his mouth without a second thought as Bill’s own hazel eyes caught his grandson’s green for one long, drawn out moment. It was like looking into the face of a cat, unable to blink or give way first lest he be found a liar before a small jiggle on Jo’s grip broke the staring contest and both Harvelle men smiled at one another. His eyes drifted back automatically to his daughter’s face, her watery eyes dry now and the complex storm of emotions almost perfectly concealed behind a peaceful look as she smiled back at him and his choice of words. “/Far/ too long.”

“Billy, sport.. I want you to meet your grandfather. Not like Grandpa Bobby, but.. but my dad.” Jo dropped her gaze first, her free hand now brushed Billy’s hair back until it was somewhat tamed as she approached, the slight waddle of her steps making him stare at her curiously as Billy reached his hands out to be held by the once stranger now his mother had seemingly given the green light. “William Anthony Harvelle, meet William Dean Harvelle. He.. he turned three five months ago.” The weight of the small boy was unexpected but so familiar to the hunter as he situated the other on his hip like a professional and shared a hand shake with him before smiles. Though Bill’s dropped the second his daughter added quietly and avoided his eyes as she pressed a hand to her unexpectedly rounded stomach, “..and I turned thirty-two four months ago.”

“Thir..thirty-two.” Bill struggled to get the number out as he stared at her, trying to reconcile that he’d lost the last twenty-two years of his daughter’s life and yet the older hunter had said this was where he was missed the most. It was hard enough to comprehend that without adding in the wiggling child in his arms, and the slightly rounded shape of his daughter’s stomach as she now stood upright without anything else in the way. “And.. four months..?”

Jo nodded her head, an uncertain smile on her face as she frowned back at him, another undecipherable look on her face. Bill was suddenly regretting not sticking around Singer’s to see his wife as he realised how hard it was for him to understand his daughter, no long a child but a full grown woman almost overnight to him. Though as Billy tugged at one of the pockets at the front of his leather jacket, he couldn’t stop the wide, happy smile at seeing any form of his daughter again. “I’m..so proud of you, sweetheart.” It was all he could think to say as Billy kicked to be set down and Bill conceded reluctantly, eyes not moving from his daughter’s until her smile softened to its natural state.

There was an almost deafening silence as both hunter’s smiled back at one another for a long moment, before Billy broke it with a simple request for a drink and it somehow sparked the pair into an unexpectedly choreographed move through the kitchen - the tradition of making Jo’s favourite drink seeming to be the same as her blond haired son. It was so familiar, so the same and so natural that as the young boy drank from the red and blue webbed sippy-cup, both Jo and Bill shifted to sit across the table from one another in a happy discussion about the last time they performed the very same actions.

As the little blond boy finished his drink and set his cup down, Bill finally asked the question that was nagging at him. Though he didn’t expect the answer to arrive the very second he asked. "So… Billy and..the baby’s father is a… hunter?“ As the final word left his mouth there was the sound of a key in the front door that left Jo wide eyed and her son to squeal and launch himself through the open kitchen door with a shout.

#4 - Sad Eyes: Or How Water And Oil Don’t Mix Unless Shaken Up

It was days like this, as the shadow headed home after his last class just after the lunch break, that he was thankful they hadn’t moved from the once dilapidated house that Jo’d found for him all those years ago. There was barely a five minute walk from his office in the art building to their front door, and as Grey jiggled the keys in the lock when the door didn’t immediately swing open - a simple code Jo’d made for if there were visitors in the house - he could feel the stress of the overly excited classes that morning vanish the moment his foot was over the threshold.

Grey’d often find himself in a day sneaking away home over lunch, if he wasn’t already finishing early, to not only avoid the prying and slightly worrisome questions he’d get on occasion from the other staff members at the high school but just to help out with the inevitable fight over eating greens at lunch or settling /everyone/ down for an afternoon nap regardless of the objections. Or the days like today when he’d have no afternoon classes or after-hours meetings that he could leave early and possibly come home to the twisted take on Jody’s advice about encouraging reading that would be mother and son curled up on the couch reading over her hunters journal, or an old tome from one of the other hunters. Though recently it had been a, in his opinion, premature introduction to some novels that he couldn’t help but think Jo was just after an excuse to read again.

Shrugging out of his blazer, the one attempt he’d make half-heartedly at the start of every semester to look more professional than a possibly starving-artist type, Grey heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen before the little boy came sprinting out of the kitchen with a shriek.

“You’re home! Mommy said that you wouldn’t-“ The little blond boy cheered as he flung himself forwards around the monster’s legs. Grey knew exactly what the boy’s mother would have said, and reaching down he ruffles the top of the other’s head, effectively cutting him off.

The voices in the other room seemed to have stopped, that they were coming from the kitchen rather than upstairs in the study-slash-storage room as they moved things around to prepare for the new baby was confusing. Most hunters wanted to be behind the thin chain of iron that Jo’d place across the door - only for the hunters sakes, though it was still a sore point every time it happened and there had been fights over the allowance for hunters to come by the first time the blonde was too heavily pregnant to expose herself to the bars or to want to move around so much. "Yeah, I know, Billy. I wasn’t supposed to be home until dinner time. But the meeting I had to stay for got cancelled and I got to come home.”

“Goodgood, ‘cause Mommy was crying before but Mr. Bill was comforting her.” Billy looks perplexed as he speaks, the same crease in his brow as his mother evident as he shares a look with the other - one small arm wrapped tightly around Grey’s leg.

“What?” What the boy was saying confused the hell out of the shadow, that Jo was crying was strange enough even factoring in the pregnancy hormones and the comment about some man with the name Grey’d swiftly begun to associate with not only Jo’s father but her son and the boy’s biological father. There’d been communication between his partner and their son’s father over the last few years, to the point they’d exchanged a few photographs and agreed for them to meet 'some day’; though the idea made him feel sick and possessive every time it was discussed, regardless how often Jo said it was a mistake other than Billy. “Whose here?”

“Mr. Bill.” Billy was far too young to understand sarcasm but Grey couldn’t hide the small smile at the almost exasperated look his son gave him. The boy smiles back quickly, reaching out for the other before directing them both towards the kitchen once he’d been picked up like an admiral directing his troops to move forward. “Mommy said he was like Gran'pa Bobby.”

The words sound all wrong to the shadow - if it was who he thought it was, he doubted Jo would try to introduce the gargantuan man she described to him during the few rocky months of her first pregnancy as being like the much older hunter and almost surrogate father. (He was honestly confused why the grouchy old man hadn’t made an 'honest woman’ out of the older Harvelle, but Grey figured he didn’t have room to speak after his, painfully, unsuccessful attempt to do just that with his own Harvelle a few years ago.) Shaking his head to loosen the scowl that was building just thinking that, he lets out a tight laugh as small fingers push at his forehead while he walks the pair of them into the kitchen.

Only to freeze as he becomes the target of both people sitting on either side of the kitchen table’s gazes; Jo’s eyes wide and unreadable alongside the pleased flush on her cheeks, while the bearded man across from her squinted at him appraisingly. There was something definitely off about the hunter across from his partner, the choice of clothes, bitten down nails, dark rings of shadow under his eyes and the way he shifted his relaxed posture at Grey’s entrance - in an almost protective way of Jo, it seemed - screamed hunter as did the hint of a  holster under the leather jacket swamping him.

“I’m goin’ to guess this here is baby-daddy himself, then?” The gruff tone and way he rose from his seat did not help with Grey’s first impression of him. He was obviously trying to puff himself up, mark his territory or force the smaller shadow to heel if the steely stare was anything to go by. Something that was not going to happen, at least not from Grey where his family was concerned as he shifted his hold on Billy despite the boy’s attempts to be let go of. “Bit scrawnier than I thought you’d be interested in, sweetheart.”

“Don’t let looks fool you.” The shadow snaps back at the thiny veiled insult, keeping a tight hold of Billy and angling him away as he steps closer to the other warningly. After a second, Grey takes the two steps towards where Jo was still sitting to lean down and deliver a quick peck of a kiss as he ignores the larger man’s presence. “The meeting tonight got cancelled, so I figured I’d take the rest of the afternoon off.”

Jo seemed to be happy, smiling widely when he says he’s back for the afternoon - though the grip she takes on his wrist has more force behind it than he thought there should be. “Well that’s good, don’t think, uh, /this/ is exactly somethin’ we could cover in your lunch break.” She jerks her head between the hunter looking purposefully in the opposite direction as she speaks, the grin on her face and eyes filling with a look Grey wasn’t familiar with as she gazed at the other before looking back at him. The ugly twist of jealousy and possessiveness he thought he’d gotten over years ago reared its head again, growing larger when Jo spoke again though the gentle rubbing of her thumb against the inside of his wrist did a bit to help slow it. “Hun, maybe you should take Billy upstairs for his nap and then I’ll… I’ll introduce you properly.”

The shadow’s glance flickers between Jo’s reassuringly pleased look and the speculative study from the other hunter, uncertain if he trusted himself to leave the pair though the yawn from the small boy still in his arms confirmed what he should do. “I’ll be right back down, Jo. I’m just upstairs if…”

“It’s fine, Grey, nothings going to happen.” He would usually object more, never quite comfortable with Jo’s trust of the others in her profession - her comfort with those she saw like herself was something he couldn’t quite understand. Though the warm smile on her face and the relative distance the other hunter was giving her was a little more comforting.

The shadow nods as he gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze and frowning at the unconfirmed man wiggling his fingers and shaking hands in a mockery of seriousness with the little boy in his arms to say good 'night’. Jerking away with a quiet, inhuman hiss - not caring right now if it unsettled the man or caused problems - Grey takes Billy upstairs, ignoring his pleas to be allowed to stay downstairs. “No, sport, you’ve got to get your nap otherwise you’ll fall asleep during cartoons this afternoon.”

“But I wanna play with Mommy’s daddy…” He wasn’t sure how to take the boy’s sleepy mumbling, though the threat of missing out on his few favourite hours of TV a night worked to silence him. The quiet triumph Grey got over the boy preferring his favourites to Jo’s at the moment was always a bright moment when the three would sit and watch a few episodes, Billy’s eyes glued to the screen even if he’d seen the episode before while Jo would pout and pull at his own hair as they relaxed on the couch like the old days for an hour or so.

Settling the boy in, almost asleep before his head touched the pillow, Grey waits a moment before smoking downstairs to the shadows just out of sight of the kitchen door, hanging back to listen as he tries to work out if his son meant what he’d said or not.

“So that’s the guy, then?” The gruff tone seemed to have doubled, the man’s voice clearly displaying his uncertainty. “He seems… different.”

“Well he is certainly that. Grey’s a good guy, takes good care of me and Billy, and the baby.” Jo sounded uncertain, almost worried, and that didn’t endear the stranger any better to Grey than the vague disapproval was. “He’s not a hunter, so please, /please/, don’t make a thing about that.”

“Guess that makes sense, what with the picket-fence dream outside, huh sweetheart?”

“You can hardly expect that I was on the road, eight months pregnant and trying to hunt things, could you? I’m still a hunter, even if there’s a home that’s not got four wheels..”

“And Mr. Civilian is part of it. Does he even /know/ about what you do, Jo? Or are you a travelling sales woman, flying here and there every other week?”

Peeking through the part of the doorway not blocked at the harsh accusation, Grey could see the man’s back and Jo’s hand resting over his forearm, a move that she’d do with anyone she felt was getting out of hand or might need to calm down. Mr. Bill, as Billy called him, didn’t move for a second before he moves a large hand to cover Jo’s in a way Grey thought was far too tender for someone who’d just appeared in their lives.

Feeling that twisted possessiveness flare up again and not able to stop himself this time, Grey pushes into the kitchen and shuts the door just in case things got louder, announcing his return. “I’m a teacher, but I know all about hunting. What is it to you what I do or who I am?” The harsh tone covers the words, the only thing stopping his powers from slipping into the question by accident, as the shadow moves to Jo’s side, slips an arm around her waist and stares defiantly up the few inches at the other man.

“Grey..” Jo hisses quietly, though she covers his fingers with her free arm as she glances worriedly between both men, silently sizing one another up. After a long moment, during which the shadow refused to back down like his partner was suggesting and seemingly the hunter was unwilling to do the same, she adds quietly, “Hun, you might want to make a good impression rather than… what you’re doing.”

“You might want to listen to her, /Grey/,” The man cut in, shifting his weight onto his heels and dropping a shoulder, the undone buckles of his jacket chiming quietly together with the movement. There was something far too familiar between the looks both blond’s were giving him - the same quirk of their eyebrows and the sharp awareness that something was going to happen, either good or bad, just drove home what Grey was starting to suspect was the truth. “Wouldn’t do well for you to try and tangle with me over this.”

“Oh, I’d love to you arrog-” Grey gets cut off sharply with an elbow to the ribs from the woman beside him, both exchanging a look that neither seemed to be winning. That the other man seemed to think it was okay to try and boss him around in his own home did not sit well with the monster, regardless of if the man was a hunter and he something which unknowingly the other would prefer at the end of a gun than wrapped around a fellow fighter like he was. But Jo’s reaction and poking shuts up up from doing more as he bites back a growl, though pulls her closer instead. Speaking softly against her ear, he keeps an eye on the other man as he tries to work out if what he thinks is now more likely is true, “You want to explain who this… guy is, Jo? Billy said he was like Bobby.”

The man chuckling as though he could tell exactly what was running through Grey’s mind was not comforting, even as the woman in his arms let out a quiet sigh. It took everything in him not to growl at the stranger’s amusement, even as Jo answered him; her voice tinged with something between awe and shock. “Yeah, he is. Um, Grey.. I’d like you to meet William Harvelle. My father. ..Dad, this is my partner Jack Grey.” Lifting her hands and those underneath and above them, she moves to attempt to make the pair shake hands, eyes darting between the stoic look on the shadows face to the amused smirk on her father’s.

The confirmation of what Billy had suggested from Jo’s own mouth helped smooth down some of his raw feelings; the dread that it might have been the other hunter coming to meet /Grey’s/ son was a little more than he’d ever expected it would be.  He’d almost worried Jo had concocted a lie for their son given he wasn’t even old enough to understand his dad wasn’t human let along that he wasn’t really his biological father. The tantrum which had ensued after they tried explaining that 'Dad’s side of the family are just /special/’ to explain the inhuman actions had only stopped when Jo’d comforted Billy with the idea that she and him were special in their own way by being the only non-special ones. That he’d reacted so defensively to the idea and the currently smug looking hunter worries him, but as Jo looks up at him so hopefully Grey swallows that down to think about later as he shifts to offer his hand on his own free will.

Staring one another down, it is a full thirty seconds before Grey lowers his hand, the waves of disapproval still coming off of the other man and the tense seconds when Bill made no move to shake his said it all. The hunter didn’t approve and he was making it clear.

“He’s wrong for you, sweetheart.” The man doesn’t take his eyes off of Grey, squinting faintly at him as thought trying to discern something from him that wasn’t visible unless really focussed on. He wasn’t used to such heavy speculation, and even as Jo unconciously grips onto his lowered hand, he can’t help but shift backwards to refrain from lashing out at such a declaration.

Grey couldn’t tell if it was him shaking or Jo, the rage flushing through him from such a suggestion was hard to see through even as his fingers were almost crushed in her vice like grip. “Dad, what on earth are you on about? You don’t even know him! I like him, Mom likes him, Bobby li-”

“I don’t give a fuck what Bobby likes, Jo; that’s something I’m trying to come to terms with. But this… guy?” The other hunter waves a hand as he speaks to gesture at the pair of them, the cut off making both Jo and Grey wince as they could imagine where he must have gotten their address from now. “There is something /wrong/ about him, can’t you sense that? I don’t think you or my grandchildren should be around him, sweetheart.”

His comments bring out another wince in the monster, the sharp hunter’s intuition seemingly not at all rusted from the time spent beyond the veil. If the sharp inhale of breath from beside him was any indication, Jo was picturing all the ways this conversation could go wrong and it was only her hand in his stopping Grey from showing the hunter just what was 'wrong’ about him.

Grey was not expecting the hunter to move like he did when no one answered him for a full minute, the sharp push back against the kitchen door jerking the shadow’s hand from Jo’s as a forearm presses forcefully against his windpipe. “Tell me, /Grey/, what the fuck you are and what the fuck you’re doing with my daughter or I will gut your inhuman body where you stand.” It’s a barely audible hiss as the older Harvelle twists his arm up, forcing Grey to lift his head back of suffer a crushed oesophagus.

“Dad! Let him go!” Out of the corner of his eye, Grey can see Jo pulling at her father’s other arm, staring wide-eyed at the pair of them as though she doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Bill went through with his threat. It takes everything in him not to just shove the hunter off, or to let him break a few bones in order to get himself free; though when he can see his partner swaying on her feet the way she would during some of the more stressful times of her first pregnancy, that control goes out the window. Shoving the other back with unnatural force, Grey reaches out to catch her arm, even as Jo sends him a dirty look. “God damn, I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about…”

While she trails off, turning to look for her father, Grey can feel the knot starting in his stomach again - though this time not from jealousy but anxiousness as the hunter in question pushes himself up off the floor and stares at him with the same look other hunters would get when faced with a twist of case and find themselves face to face with an unexpected monster. The small twitch of his hand from under the end of his jacket sleeve would usually make him feel bad to see, but Grey couldn’t help but think the hunter brought it on himself as Jo steps between the both of them to reach out for his arm.

“Joanna Beth, you better explain what just happened right no-” Bill’s voice drops considerably, and in an abstract way Grey could see another similarity between father and daughter when they got angry. The clipped tone, deeper register and way his eyes didn’t move from the focus of his conversation were all strikingly alike to the way Jo’s would.

Jo cuts in, stepping closer towards her seething father, not able to stop the quip from boiling up the same way it used to when arguing with her mother for the better half of her life. “You just threatened my partner! I don’t think I owe you any sort of explanation until you’re not going to try and kill someone in here for what you hear.”

“If that’s the kind of reaction you think you’d get then you better spill right now, sweetheart.” Bill was still focussed on Grey as he spoke, making the shadow feel like squirming inside though he remained cool on the outside. There was a direct challenge in the hunter’s gaze, and he refused to back down to it. “What the fuck is he, Jo?”

He couldn’t see Jo’s face though he could see the faint shake to her hands as she holds out a hand, Grey staying back but alert. All of the times that he’d been part of one of 'those’ conversations over the years couldn’t compare to what this one would be like, or the amount of nerves he could feel radiating off of the small blonde between him and the other hunter. “Well, Dad, you.. have it right. He’s not actually a huma-" She cuts off with a hiss as Bill’s hand shifts to the holster under his jacket before freezing as Grey acts quickly, stretching his shadow to join the other man’s and holding him trapped. Stepping up behind Jo carefully, the shadow rests a hand against the small of her back as he tries to pull her back away from the other. ”-n.“

"What is /it/ doing?” Grey flinches sharply at the word, his fingers tightening for a second against Jo’s back as she too draws back at the look her father was sending him. Keeping a careful lock on the other man’s movements, the shadow tries to lead Jo back to a chair to sit down as she almost looked white staring back at Bill. The fact he could feel Bill struggling against his powers just as strongly as the monsters and demons he would track and feed was more than a little disconcerting, feeling the desire to drain rear up on habit before squashing it down.

“Dad..” Jo sounds weary as she lets him guide her, the hold she has on his arm tightening for a moment as she stares back in the familiar face before sinking into the seat and not removing her hands from around his forearm. The colour in her cheeks was lighter than Grey had seen it in a while, and while he could see her reaction was making the other hunter calm down slightly he made a quick decision of his own.

Rubbing at the top of her shoulder and brushing her hair back from her face, Grey leans in regardless of the hiss from behind him to press a brief kiss to her lips as he holds her face in her hands before speaking as quietly and calmly as he can. “Jo, I want you to go upstairs for a bath. I know it’s probably run and cooling upstairs already, so you go relax and I’m going to talk to your father for a moment.” As Jo blinks up at him in confusion and opens her mouth to argue, he kisses her again before pinning her with a sharp look. “It will be okay, we’ll be home soon, okay?”

“What do you mean 'we’ll be home soon’, you… thing?!” The other man growls out, eyes flashing from anger at the approaching monster to concern at his grown daughter’s face. There was something in the look which made Grey’s heart skip, recognising it in Jo’s own face whenever Billy would get sick or hurt himself and she had no idea what to do about it. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks back over at Jo where she’s still fixated on watching the both of them worriedly before he steps next to the struggling hunter and reaches out before smoking the both of them away.

Setting down several miles away in an empty field, Grey keeps his hand on the other’s shoulders until he’s caught his feet before stepping a few feet back. Releasing the other, he tries to keep his voice as calm as possible as he speaks, “Mr. Harvelle, I get this is all very shocking to you, but you need to calm down and I’m not letting you back near Jo or my son unti-”

Cut off with a groan, Grey stumbles back another two steps as he raises his hand to his mouth, the slick feel of blood against his fingers and teeth bringing out another groan. Bill stares back at him, fist raised still as though trying to determine where to hit next; before sending an uppercut under the chin, teeth slamming together as his head jerks upwards. Falling back away again, the shadow keeps the other man, rubbing his knuckles with his other hand carefully, with the same watchful and alert eye as the hunter was surveying him.

Its a long, tense moment before Grey sees the other tensing as though he’s about to spring forth, reaching out as soon as the other moves to catch a hold of the punch aimed at his stomach and keep the hunter from hitting or moving back. Bill grunts through heavy breaths harshly, glaring back him with a twist of his mouth. “What are you? Why is my daughter with you? /Why aren’t you dead?/”

As the blond tugs back on his hands, Grey releases them reluctantly though keeps himself alert. When the hunter makes no direct moves or shifts to attack, the shadow speaks as clearly as he can even as his jaw aches and the numb feeling of his lips flickers in and out as he heals. “I am a shadow, a monster. Not a demon like I would assume you believe..” Bill’s face twists up at that comment, one hand dropping unconsciously to press against his chest as though holding something in, before Grey continues to speak quickly. “But I swear to you, I’m not a threat to your family. I swear it.”

Staring off like those strange western movies Jo would watch sometimes (or more like the third Back To The Future movie, Grey considers as he shifts), the hunter slowly steps back before starting to circle the stationary monster. Twisting his head to watch, the second he has to shift the other man launches again, driving the knife from his ankle into the monster’s side and twisting sharply as his large, muscled arm holds him in place. He was preparing himself for the sharp burn of iron but can’t help the relief alongside pain when it’s just the pain of the knife itself without any iron.

The blond man jerks the knife out, spinning away and preparing for another lunge before pulling himself up short as the monster merely presses a hand to the wound and looks mostly undisturbed aside from a small grimace of pain. Grey waits a few moments for the wound to heal before dropping his hand and turning to face Bill. “I swear, Mr. Harvelle, I’m not here to harm your daughter or our children." His hand stretches out in a sign of peace, though he can see the remnants of his bleeding side coating the edges of his fingers red and doesn’t need to imagine to know it looks much less peaceful from the hunter’s perspective. Dropping his hand and wiping it off, he shifts his weight back as the beefier man jumps him again, knocking them both to the ground.

Tumbling and fighting for control, Grey can’t help but imagine that if he ever has another daughter (his mind and focus slipping for a second giving the other man the upper hand as he struggles to force the thoughts that topic brings up down again) that he could completely understand the other man’s focussed aggression and protectiveness. Pulling his legs up and kicking the larger man off him slightly, the shadow rolls to the side and jumps up, muttering an apology as he does so - already mentally counting just how mad Jo might get for that move. He turns, looking around for Jo’s father to spring up from somewhere before he realises the other is still on the ground.

Approaching tentatively, Grey wipes his hand off again on his tshirt, glad for once that most of the shirts in the house were now dark colored, before offering it down to the other. The proverbial olive branch between the pair as blue eyes lock with green. There’s a moment when the monster worries that the other will try to stab him again - or worse - before the blond pushes himself up without the assistance and Grey lets his hand drop back to his side awkwardly.

"I asked another two questions, /thing/.” Bill growls the words out as he doesn’t back down from his proximity to the other, unconsciously attempting to intimidate through size and voice. Grey brushes his hands and shirt off, cringing painfully as his mouth throbs when he twitches at the choice of word.

Taking off his glasses as he considers, the shadow wipes the glass clean before resettling them and looking unashamedly and confidently back at the other. “Jo and I have been friends, and more, for years now. She was open minded enough to give me a shot after I helped her out on the tail end of a few cases and proved myself not to be a danger /any longer/ to humans.” He speaks calmly, the words slurring together slightly as his mouth aches, eyes not leaving the other’s face as he watches for any sign of movement or a negative reaction. “I’m not dead for the same reason. I’ve been able to prove myself to Jo, our son, and other hunters alike. And.. I’d like to be able to prove myself to you.”

Bill’s jaw tics at that comment, the tightening in his shoulders and the quick spin of his knife in his hands once again seeming all too familiar, as he seems to consider whats being said and just how ineffective his attacks have been. “I’d like to go back to my daughter now, /monster/.” There is no recognition of anything Grey had said in his words, but the way his eyes are more speculatively focussed rather than  hostile, Grey hopes that means he has gotten a little bit through to him. Enough that maybe he won’t find himself with another silver dagger stabbed through his gut.

“The name is Grey. Or Jack.. whatever you’re most comfortable with.” He speaks quietly, already mentally storing away that he’ll have to be extra careful around this hunter than other’s. Not that he expected any more, as he knows any red blooded male would be reaching for the iron bullets at the thought of a human man touching their daughter’s let alone something they perceive as worth dying for the crime of existing. “I’m hoping I can show you, one day Mr. Harvelle, just how much your daughter and our children mean. And I’m willing to give you as much time to get to know them and speak to them as you want, but you’re not going to make me leave - no matter how much you hate me or how hostile and threatening. Your friend… Bobby has tried it already and come to accept m-”

“/Monster/, we’re /done/ here.” The words are hissed out, sharper than anything else, and if the awkward way the hunter drew back at the mention of the woman who had once been his wife was any indication, Grey could tell someone had brought him up to speed so far as his wife was concerned. “Take me back there.” It’s not a request, or a suggestion, but an order; and while the shadow’s teeth grit painfully together and the idea of being ordered to so something, he knows the best idea would be to listen to this man’s wishes.

Reaching a hand out, there's a blink before the pair are standing back in the brightly lit kitchen of the house that has become the monster’s family home. Not releasing his hold on the hunter’s shoulder, Grey tightens his grasp when the man makes a move to head into the hallway. “If you could stay in here, make yourself comfortable; then your daughter and grandson will be down after their afternoon rests.” This time it’s his voice that’s laced with the harsh tone that says there will be no discussion and that what he says will happen goes. When the other looks like he’s about to object, Grey hold up his hand, still slightly pinkish, to stop him. “Jo may be your daughter and Billy may be your namesake, but they are /my/ family too - and I will be making sure /their/ well-being is taken care of first and foremost.”

It’s like neither will back down for a long sharp moment before Grey can see the calculation of how strong he’s proven himself and just how unknown he is occur inside the hunter’s mind before the tension is released only slightly from his shoulders. Releasing the other from his grip, Grey turns sharply - still on edge and prepared for an attack - and heads out of the door, shutting the thin wood behind him as he heads upstairs to fish his Jo out of the bath and into bed for a while. Fully prepared to stand guard on the stairs until the required time for resting is done with. Just in case.

#5 - To Sir With Love: A Teacher’s Tale

There was something deeply unsettling about being the newest teacher in a well-established school, especially considering his actual situation. He was always jumping for the first few weeks that he spoke to one of the older staff members or the principal or her assistant, expecting any moment the fallacy of his credentials to be exposed. But after that didn’t happen, in fact most of the other staff found him to be quite charming and knowledgeable in the ‘self-taught’ manner which suited the fluidity of the subject Jo had asked for her older hunter contacts to give him for specialisation.

Of course, once the fear of being outed by the staff began to recede - his quick thinking answers and the slight flexing of his powers for answers or distraction when he couldn’t get around it - came a new brand of uncomfortable for the dark haired monster. All spawned from the first time he heard, five weeks into his employment signalling the first week of the school year, the tell-tale sign of giggling and whispers from his first class ever. Grey wasn’t sure what it was, but as he wrote out his name on the white board behind him and turned about to stand and wait, he could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck at the hungry and almost desiring eyes on him from most of the females and some of the males in the class. That first class signalled just the beginning of the interest and his change of status among the students from 'fresh meat teacher’ to 'that teacher’, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was a change for the better.

Three weeks into term and the arrival of the end of his senior year class’ preliminary 'refresher’ course is when things changed up again - with a slightly foolish idea that came from his hunt-exhausted partner one night when he was keeping her from sleeping by worrying about what to do next. “Just get them all to sit about and talk about themselves for a week. Gives you some time to come up with something and maybe spark an idea for you.” Which is what he very quickly decided would be his next class when the blonde turned over with her front to him and an unmistakably deviant smirk.

“Okay everyone, I know we’re a while into the year to be doing introductions and get-to-know you games, but now that we all know some of the basics and not so basic things, I figure before we start on our first big assignment it’d be good to understand what each of us can and can’t do, what we like and that sort of thing, right?” Grey’s - or Mr. Grey or Jack Grey, depending on who in the school was talking to him - voice started out strong as the class finally settled down in their early morning slot, outside of the quiet whispers he was sure were never going to go away, but quickly trailed off into an uncertain ramble as he looked out at his students. There was something deeply unsettling for him that he could catch that many people’s attention at once, not particularly fond of being in the spot light. “So, if everyone can grab a chair and move the tables and stuff so we’re kind of.. less formal?”

It took a few moments for the teenagers to click that they needed to move but it was pretty quick when they did, or from what Grey could assume given how often the other teachers complained about the lack of speed from the students. When everyone was settled down, forming something like a semi-circle in the room with his desk and whiteboard being the straight section with just enough space for all of them, the dark haired man moved around to the front of his desk and pushed a few pens and papers aside to sit atop it himself.

“Okay, how about we do a quick round of names and a bit about your family and then we’ll, I don’t know, let a free for all questions where you can ask anyone anything appropriate if you’re holding, um, this.” Grey reached behind him and tossed a small Spiderman action figure towards one of the geekier looking males in the class directly to his right. “One question per time you hold it though, so, yeah. We’ll start with you Josh?”

The boy, Josh, quickly said his name and talked about his pet rat for a few seconds before he handed on the figurine which quickly made its way around the circle to end on Elizabeth who has four older brothers. Grey then indicated for her to ask her question of someone and the game started, quickly revealing to him just how hilarious teenagers could be if left to almost unsupervised fun. That was until a bleach-blonde called Mary decided to turn the tables on him. “Mr. Grey,” her tone made him cringe internally, knowing what that meant from years of hearing it before something he’d usually deem 'inappropriate’ for most people, “what about you? Do you have any family?”

Grey caught the figurine when she tossed it across to him, as per the amended rules, and rolled it about in his hand before he answered. “I’ve got a lot of brothers and sisters. More than any of you at least, though I only really see three of them often - two brothers and a sister - and our parents are dead.” He passed the toy back to Josh, asking him a question about the cartoon style drawings he’d noticed the boy drawing regularly before the game continued.

Tracey, a rather plain girl Josh asked for her favourite hobby, then turned the attention back to their teacher with the same yearning eyes as the first girl but lacking the same potentially troublesome tone. “Is there a Mrs. Grey, Mr. Grey?”

“No, I don’t actually have a wife.” Grey stumbled over the response a little and all at once was bombarded with the sudden perk in interest and joy within the class’ feelings that he threw up a hand. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve asked Mr. Grey enough questions - back to one another guys until the bell goes.” He tossed the Spiderman across to a boy called Brad before moving around his desk again, trying to ignore the dramatic sweep downwards in emotions as he pretended to fiddle with some of the papers in front of him until the bell went. Not knowing that he’d just sparked a school-wide interest in finding out about the private life of the new art teacher.

It wasn’t until six weeks later when the teaching staff and students were back from the Thanksgiving weekend that he picked up on just what was going on. Grey had noted an influx in interest from students and teachers alike about what his plans were on a weekend or what he was planning to do on Friday night - but hadn’t thought anything peculiar about the slight disinterest and annoyance at his vague answers about 'having a night in’ or 'I don’t know quite yet’. Though he hadn’t noticed the slight increase in whispers and eyes on his back, having adjusted to it and chalked it up to the general distrust and observance by students of their teachers to remain vigilant, nor the number of invitations for family or 'get to know you’ dinners from the other staff members.

What sparked off his awareness of what was happening was the innocent answer to 'What did you do for Thanksgiving, Jack?’ as he walked with the slightly aging maths teacher Donald Kelly that he spent it mostly with the kids and the almost deathly silence which followed. Grey looked about curiously as the older man shot him a confused look at the revelation that he had children. “It was Fiona’s first Thanksgiving with us, actually - or at least the first she’ll remember.” Grey added hesitantly, not sure how to take the incredulous look of the way his words seemed to be echoed through the halls by other voices to one another before the moment passed.

He shrugged it off for the next few weeks, answering the staff questions a little more freely about his family - or at least the children - and even retelling a few funny stories about his oldest child’s first day of school that year with some of his art classes as Grey began to feel more comfortable as time wore on. Still there was something strange about the way the questions were phrased - not asking about the children’s mother once. The dark haired man particularly found the questions or comments, most from that early morning senior art class, to be interestingly spanned with little reference or comment about whoever his partner was other than that they must have won the lottery if there was one. On occasion Grey wanted to set the record straight, but when he’d first talked to Jo about starting teaching she had warned him to give as little away about his real life as possible - and given the role of her within it, he was even more reluctant than talking about the kids now the cat was out of the bag about them.

It wasn’t until the next Monday morning lesson that he worked out what the true interest, other than what had been affectionately termed 'teacher crush’ by his lover, in his personal life was - when the middle of his class was interrupted by the sound of a young child crying and the unmistakable whining voice of a six year old.

“Mom, I don’t get it. I’m big, I can come with you! Uncle Dean used to go with his dad and not get left at home when he was my age.” The shock of blond hair peeking through the doorway before the whining tone changed to excitement as the light haired boy turned back to whoever he was with before entering. “I found him! Dad, Dad, tell Mom I can come along with her and not stay home this time. /Puh-lease!/”

The entire class stopped as the small boy, extremely small for his current age, barrelled into the room and jumped atop Grey’s back, clinging and practically begging him with bright green eyes. The dark haired man, shook his back, catching the boy around the waist before he sat him down again - hand firmly gripped in the other’s hair at the top of his head to stop any mischief. “What do you mean this time? She’s not supposed- Jo, you said you didn’t have any cases this week.” Grey’s, along with the stunned and quiet teenagers, attention went to the blonde who entered after the boy.

She juggled with the rather large baby bag over one shoulder and the crying dark haired baby, barely over a year old, in her arms as she looked back at him with a small frown. “Well I didn’t, but then something came up - close enough I’ll be back by the weekend. No one else is near enough to take care of it this time, Hun, I’ve got to go.” Jo shrugged her shoulder, baby bag dropped to the floor before Grey’s desk as she wrestled her hair out of the little girl’s grip and approached Grey.

“D-does Principal Evans knows about this, the kids I mean?” The dark haired man instinctively reached out both hands, letting the younger boy go to go start inquiring and talking to the stunned and smiling students, to take the baby from her, hoisted onto one hip as he added quietly, “You’re going to be okay with this by yourself? You’ll call in to-”

“-night and leave the numbers to contact and where I am, yes I know the drill, /Dad/, don’t worry.” Her voice mimicked both him and the young blond boy as well as she lent in to brush her lips against his in a farewell. “Everything is cleared with your boss, Grey, and I’ll call when I know you’ll be home. I’ll see you on Friday hopefully, /and be good for your dad, dammit Billy!/” Jo’s voice rose into a firm, yet still amused, tone as she caught the boy’s eye and headed out the room with another round of goodbyes - not even acknowledging the students as she left again like a storm, there one second and gone the next. Leaving in her wake a very energetic young boy, a now sleeping little girl, a slightly concerned but happy teacher and a shell-shocked classroom.

Right up until Mary, now with shockingly pink hair, shouted happily from her seat as Billy approached and began to stroke her hair in a typically curious child’s way, “I knew he’d be with a blonde girlfriend! Someone text Dylan for the betting to be closed!”

[stories-by-shanna-p]

Plot Bunny Adoption Challenge 2019

Fandoms Involved In This Challenge: Supernatural, Hobbit, Harry Potter, Star Wars (A total of 62 Plot Bunnies!!!) 

Hey there everyone! As promised, I am hosting a new challenge in 2019 for plot bunny adoptions! I know a lot of people make new years resolutions to ‘write more’, I know I did, so I thought I would contribute!!! :D :D :D

So, if you are interested and want a challenge, read the rules and plot bunnies below! Maybe one of them will be going home with you! Just like previous adoptions, only one person gets a plot bunny so it will be completely unique to you, no one else gets it, so enjoy! 

Also, to note, some of the ideas are multi-chapter ideas, as I saw some people saying they wanted some new multi-chap ideas...so have fun. Feel free to make them one-shots or multi-chapter! ^^ There are one shot ideas too, I tried to make a variety for different tastes! Also, if one of the plot bunnies says ‘reader’ or ‘OC’, feel free to change it or make them any gender! It is your plot bunny! XD 

Rules of the Challenge:

If you would like to enter the challenge, you need to send me an ASK with the plot bunny you would like to adopt! 

Only one person per plot bunny! If it has been adopted before you ask for it, you will have to choose a new one. It will be first come first served! 

The story, or first chapter of the story, will be due by February 28th so the Master Post for the Challenge can be posted March 1st! 

When posting you need to tag me (so I can add it to the Master Post) and also include the tag #Tale Teller’s Plot Bunny Challenge 2019 

Plot bunnies available for adoption are below the keep reading line!

If you finish early, you are welcome to request a new plot bunny but only after the first one has been posted! 

Let me know via ASK if you want added to the tag list for this challenge! OR!!! Reach out to the writer, I will list who is doing what below, and let them know how excited you are for the story and ask them to! Who knows, you may make a new friend in 2019!!! :D 

These plot bunnies are story ideas I that I have had, so if you want more ideas or such on a certain bunny, shoot me a message! Below is just a vague outline, I’m happy to chat more if you would like more inspiration or are curious what my brain came up with...But feel free to run with an idea and make it yours! I am looking forward to see what amazing stories these plot bunnies inspire! :D

Plot Bunnies up for Adoption:

Supernatural Fandom

·         Plot Bunny #5: High school AU where the Novaks move to a new school as Gabe takes an interest in a girl, but the guys say don’t bother, she is too stuck up and thinks she is better than everyone. But Gabe likes a challenge, and the girl seems nice, so he decides to befriend her.  His heart breaks when he finds out the secret truth hiding behind her emotionless mask. 

·         Plot Bunny #6: While making his rounds as the trickster, Gabriel gets in a chat room and meets someone. They become quick friends and continue to chat for months, until one day they ask to meet him.  

·         Plot Bunny #8: Highschool AU. You are dating the popular senior, Dick Roman, when the Shirleys move into town. Your life gets turned upside down when the shy new kid, Castiel Shirley, catches your eye. 

  Harry Potter Fandom 

·         Plot Bunny #12:  Girl is in Gryffindor, but is mischievous. Need a group of four in potions and gets put with Draco, Crabb, and Goyle.  Become slight friends, but have falling out when they find out she is muggleborn. But can friendship over come those differences? 

·         Plot Bunny #13: George, wanting to spend time with his girl over the summer, signs up for summer camp (week long) that she is doing. It is a muggle camp, so she makes him leave his wand with Molly.  George learns how hard it is to cope without magic. 

 Star Wars Fandom 

·         Plot Bunny #14: OC is resistance spy, but saves Hux’s life. Could friendship or love come from such differences? 

 Hobbit Fandom

 ·         Plot Bunny #15: After reclaiming Erebor and the restoration is mostly done, the princes decide to put their skills to work by creating a memorial in the hall of kings for their father. 

·         Plot Bunny #16: You are friends with Thorin, Dwalin, and all.  You are a bar maid in Ered Luin, they always bring liveliness to the place, and are very protective of you. 

·         Plot Bunny #19: Bilbo tries to teach Thorin how to garden, and Thorin tries to teach Bilbo blacksmithing.

·         Plot Bunny #20: Upon his return, Bilbo throws a dinner for his family to explain his absence.  He assumed Thorin, the Dwarf King, would be fine…but Thorin is in over his head…then add Lobelia to the mix. 

·         Plot Bunny #21: Modern AU: Bilbo is a school teacher (younger children) and Fili and Kili are his students.  When they get into mischief, the school calls Dis, but since she is busy at work, Bilbo gets to finally meet Uncle Thorin. 

·         Plot Bunny #23: After Thorin, Fili, and Kili’s death, during the burial, they are there to say their final goodbyes to the company.  

·         Plot Bunny #29: Thorin watching Fili and Kili while Dis and her husband have alone time. They are both such a handful as children, especially with their favorite uncle.  

·         Plot Bunny #31: Thorin is with a very young Kili and Fili in Ered Luin when he looses track of them.  They find their way to a bakery, where a human woman takes care of them, until Thorin finds them.  Could this be the start of something new?

·         Plot Bunny #32; When they were toddlers, Fili and Kili were stolen by rogue dwarves, but were found by Hobbits, and taken in by a young Belladonna Took (before she was married), so when Gandalf sends the company to the Shire for their burglar, they assume it is her, and everyone is excited to see her again…but then they find out she passed away, and the one going on the trip is her child, Bilbo. 

·         Plot Bunny #40: You are from our world, and survived the journey and BOFA.  When the time comes for the kingdom of elves, dwarves, and man to make peace, they need a mediator.  Your name comes up, as you are completely unbiased, as you have no loyalties since you are not from this world.  So you become the mediator, having to find a peace between Mirkwood, Dale, Erebor, and Dain (Iron Hills).  

·         Plot Bunny #43: You were Kili’s love before the journey.  And you were so happy to here they were alive and well, until you receive a letter from Fili telling you about Kili and Tauriel. But what happens when Kili realizes realizes how much he misses and loves you, and not Tauriel...can he win you back? 

·         Plot Bunny #47:  The reader, by some magic, after wishing she could help the company more, is sent to Erebor where she meets Smaug.  For some reason, he doesn’t kill her and then they become friends. Can this new ‘friendship’ change the outcome of something already destined? 

·         Plot Bunny #48: Story of little moments that the spymaster, Nori, sees when he is being sneak.  1: Ori setting up a prank on Dwalin, but working it so Fili and Kili get the blame 2: One where Thorin and Bilbo are trying to keep their relationship under wraps, Nori spys a private moment.  3: Kili and Tauriel where they discuss how they are secretly already married, and how their “second wedding” that is being planned is pointless.  

·         Plot Bunny #49: Instead of dying at Moria, Frerin was taken by the Orcs and kept prisoner. After BOFA, they tracked the Orcs back to their big camp and find him.  He is brought back to Erebor, where he helped settle in and meets the company, including Bilbo, and.the girl they found along the way. Can all of his friends and family help him adjust to the new life? 

·         Plot Bunny #50: Thorin goes back to the Shire to live with Bilbo.  When Frodo comes into the picture, it is almost hilarious how Thorin and Bilbo view raising him…as Bilbo is a first time parent and Thorin raised Fili and Kili.

·         Plot Bunny #51: Thorin passes the throne to Fili and goes with Bilbo to the Shire.  Hobbits are suspicious at first, so Thorin decides to do his best to acclimate. The clothes, no weapons…no shoes. It’s a nice gesture...so why does it keep going wrong? 

·         Plot Bunny #52: Being King doesn’t allow much time to spend with his love, Bilbo, so Thorin takes advantage of every moment he can.  Otherwise known as: Always getting Caught

·         Plot Bunny #53: Bilbo stays in Erebor at Thorin’s side as King’s Consort.  Thorin is proud and happy how Bilbo is coming into life under the mountain, taking everything in stride, but can’t help but laugh when Bilbo snaps one night after a meeting about how something must be done about his chair…because his feet won’t reach the ground.  

·         Plot Bunny #55: Modern AU: When something breaks, Bilbo goes into town to find someone to fix it.  In this case, it happens to be the handsome Thorin.  When he leaves, Bilbo knows he has to meet him again, so he breaks something else for an excuse.  But how many things must he break before Thorin picks up on it?   

·         Plot Bunny #56: When a soul leaves, sometimes it has unfinished business.  Thorin had unfinished business, so he wasn’t prepared that when he closed his eyes, he would open them again…or when he came back that he would be a grown Hobbit…outside of the Shire…maybe the universe is trying to tell him something? But will our hardheaded king listen...or go back to Erebor? 

·         Plot Bunny #57: Everyone lives AU. The company (dwarves) decide to get together for a reunion. They decide to go to the Shire since that was where it started.  It is like Deja vu, especially since no one bothered to tell Bilbo about it.  

·         Plot Bunny #60: Random inner dialogue of different people at memorable parts, cause don’t you always wonder what was going through their minds? 

·         Plot Bunny #62: Getting the company to sing “Hi Ho” while on the journey.

·         Plot Bunny #63:  Seeing you feeling down, the company try to cheer you up by learning songs from your ipod before it dies and putting on a performance for you.

·         Plot Bunny #64; Reader is from modern world and descends to middle earth and she has cancer, the company finds out halfway through the trip that she only has a couple months left.  She survived the battle as does everyone else, but eventually falls to the illness. Thoin has her buried in the hall of kings. But that isn’t the last they see her...she is the angel that guides them peacefully, when it is their time, to Mahal’s Halls. 

[sotheywrotestories]

Damned and Unrequited  |peter parker x reader| (Chapter Sixteen)

Warnings; Swearing, I kinda ripped my own heart out so...   Series Masterlist Message me if the “Keep Reading” doesn’t work Previously

Listen Here

Peter woke up long before (Y/N) did, just lying there next to her. Just a typical Sunday morning.

His eyes roamed the room, not wanting to appear too creepy, before snagging on the speakers in the corner of the room.

Peter carefully climbed out of bed, shuffling his way over to the speakers. (Y/N) started moving behind him, causing Peter to send a glance over his shoulder.

“Peter?” (Y/N) called, turning to him. “Is it time for me to answer Tony’s questions?”

“No,” Peter shrugged. “I just wanted to listen to some music.”

(Y/N) rolled out of bed, padding her way to Peter. She was in the same clothes as the day before, which were the same clothes from when she was taken.

“Do you want to change?” Peter asked. “I have some sweatpants or something.”

“Oh, um,” (Y/N) played with her tattered sweater paws. “Sure.”

Peter opened the closet (which was big enough for five people to stand in) and led (Y/N) in.

“Here are the sweatpants, um, here are some old sweatshirts,” Peter pointed around. “I’ll wait outside.”

Peter closed the closet door behind him, going back to the speakers. He played his most recent playlist, upbeat music flooding the room.

(Y/N) came out of Peter’s closet with a Midtown sweatshirt and some drawstring sweatpants.

“Is that ‘Footloose’?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Peter smiled. “A classic.”

(Y/N) started to bop her head up and down, making her way to Peter.

“Dance with me,” (Y/N) laughed.

Peter shook his head, laughing, but took (Y/N)’s hands anyway.

The two teenagers danced around the room, momentarily forgetting about the problems and questioning at hand. From “Footloose” to “Kryptonite”, they danced.

When Tony walked into the room, he tried his hardest not to disturb them. Everyone needed to remember that these kids were just that. Kids. They didn’t deserve the world that they were given but no one ever has a choice in that.

“Hey,” Tony spoke up three songs later, a slow song playing. “It’s time.”

(Y/N) lifted her head from Peter’s chest.

“Okay, um,” she turned to Peter. “I’ll be back?”

“Yeah, uh, I should call everyone, Savanah, ya know,” Peter smiled.

(Y/N)’s face dropped and Tony dropped his head into his hands.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) falsely smiled. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

Peter nodded, watching Tony escort (Y/N) out of his room.

Peter answered Ned’s questions on where he found (Y/N) and how she was doing. Then, he called MJ, who promptly told him he would get the information she wanted from (Y/N) herself. (Though Peter wasn’t sure if (Y/N) even owned a phone at the moment.)

Then, Peter called Savanah. He had been trying really hard lately to be there for her. He really wanted the relationship to work.  

They talked for hours on the phone and not once did Peter have the thought to tell Savanah that (Y/N) was safe. That (Y/N) was found.

It just slipped his mind.

By the time the call was over Peter was ready to join the rest of the Avengers in the compound.

“Peter!” Wanda shouted when she saw him. “How was the girl doing?”

“She was good last time I saw her, have you seen her?” Peter asked.

“She went home two hours ago, kid,” Steve spoke up from the kitchen. “We asked the questions we needed to ask and she left.”

Peter frowned.

“But she didn’t say goodbye? Where did she go?” Peter asked.

Steve shrugged and turned to the coffee maker.

“Oh, nice of you to join us, Parker,” Tony strut into the room. “What’s with the long face?”

“Where did (Y/N) go?” Peter asked.

“Home? She left a while ago-“

“Her only home is her dad and he’s a drunk. Did she just-“

“Peter do you really think I just let her go back there? No, we set something up, she’s fine.” Tony’s heavy hand fell onto Peter’s shoulder. “Relax.”

Peter shook his head.

“Then where did she go?” Peter turned to Wanda.

“I wouldn’t know,” Wanda smiled. “You really care for her?”

“Is this the girl the kid’s been talking about for weeks?” Sam asked from the couches.

“No, I think her name was Savanah or something like that,” Natasha said.

“Oh, a player. He really is a mini Tony,” Sam teased.

“No no,” Peter shook his head with a blush on his face. “I don’t like (Y/N) like that.”

“That is not what your thoughts last night said,” Wanda mumbled.

“Oh!” Natasha and Steve laughed.

“Called out by the mind-reader!” Tony laughed. “C’mon, kid. It’s clear to everyone that you like the girl, go get ‘er!”

Peter looked around the room at everyone.

“It’s not that easy,” Peter defended.

Everyone groaned and laughed their attention away.

“Whatever you say, Pete,” Natasha laughed. “But you should consider talking this through with (Y/N).”

“What did you learn?” Peter turned to Tony.

“We learned a little about what he New Saviors are and what their goal is, which, honestly, doesn’t seem to be too malevolent. And we learned that (Y/N) has no clue who either of them were,” Tony shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, kid. She’s safe, now.”

The new day at school was slightly dramatic. More kids than Peter even knew had noticed (Y/N)’s disappearance.

MJ didn’t let anyone near her all day. She even ditched her own classes to stay by (Y/N). And though Ned was nowhere near surprised with how MJ was acting, Peter was caught off guard, to say the least.

“I didn’t know you and (Y/N) were so close,” Peter confessed while waiting for (Y/N) to grab her lunch.

“Peter,” MJ turned towards him. “Where do you think (Y/N) has been staying, lately?”

Peter shut up, waiting for someone (hopefully Ned) to say something.

When (Y/N) finally sat down with a sandwich and some apple slices, Savanah walked up.

“Petey!” Savanah smiled, sitting on the bench and draping herself over Peter’s body.

Peter hesitantly wrapped his arm around Savanah’s waist, placing a kiss on her temple.

Ned looked away with a frown on his face. MJ had a sort of death grip on her fork. But (Y/N) was…fine. Or she seemed fine. It was hard to tell with her.

“So this is the color of my dress,” Savanah pulled out a swatch of fabric. “If you can find a tie, or a bowtie, or like a boutonniere with this color, that’d be great. Also, I hate roses so don’t get me a rose corsage. And,” MJ rolled her eyes. “We have to hang out with my friends.”

“Wait,” Peter pulled back. “What about my friends? We can hang out with both? Ned, MJ, (Y/N), and I were all gonna get Delmar sandwiches before homecoming-“

“Peter if you date me,” Savanah squinted. “You have to hang out with my friends.”

MJ stood up, stalking out of the lunchroom.

“I-um,” (Y/N) clumsily stood up, banging her knees on the table in the process. “I should go…um…get…her.”

The entire time (Y/N) was speaking, Savanah was staring her down.

“No, no, stay,” Savanah grinned. “I want to get to know more about the girl in love with my boyfriend.”

“Um…,” (Y/N)’s face caught fire. “No, I-I don’t love…ah, no. I don’t love Peter. No offense, Peter! You’re really cool! But yeah. No. Peter and I are just friends. I don’t love him like that. Anyway. I should go check on MJ. She is my ride home. Uh, oh!” (Y/N) leaned over the table. “I’m not gonna go…to homecoming. I’m just gonna stay at home so. Have fun!”

Before Peter could interrupt her once, she was chasing after MJ, lugging both backpacks behind her.

“Yeah, MJ and I are gonna stay home, too,” Ned spoke up, clearing his trash. “We might just watch crappy movies. Have fun.”

Peter just had his constants back, even though it was scary to ever count them, he knew life was finally balancing again.

“Oh, good. I’m not a fan of your friends.” Savanah ate one of Peter’s fries.

“That’s not…,” Peter dropped Savanah off his lap. “That’s not what I want. I really like my friends.”

Savanah rolled her eyes, taking Peter’s hands. “Listen. (Y/N) was after you, she’s after my man! So trust me, it’s better you stay away from them.”

Peter waited for Ned to say something before he remembered that Ned already left.

“No…I don’t think that’s right,” Peter frowned.

A fire lit in Savanah’s eyes a second before the bell rung.

“I’ll um- I’ll call you. See if I have a…,” Peter picked up the dress fabric. “Blue tie.”

“It’s navy!” Savanah called after Peter. “Don’t mess this up, Parker!”

But the problem was, Peter thought he already had.

The first place Peter went after school was MJ’s. He ran up the stairs and knocked on the door.

To Peter’s surprise, it was Ned who opened the door.

“Oh, hey, Peter. Come in?” Ned opened the door fully.

Peter thanked Ned and slipped into the apartment.

“(Y/N)?” Peter called.

“She’s not in here.” MJ stood from the couch. “She left a little while ago to go visit her mom.”

“She found her mom?” Peter shouted.

“Peter, oh my god.” Ned groaned and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Go here. You’ll find (Y/N).”

Peter held onto the paper with hesitance.

“Go, Peter,” MJ said with the most emotion Peter had ever seen. “Just, go.”

Tags;

Permanent:  @thatcluelessone @ima-fucking-nerd​​  @embrace-themagic @fireboltrose5737 @whatdafricklefrackle@peeterparkr @sherlokiantheatrenerd @legit-fandom-trash​ 

“Damned and Unrequited”:  @marveltrashaddict  @axielle-suson  @qxeentozier  @multifandombackpack @yafriendlyfangirl @uwu-sebastianstan​​ @carry-on-ms-believer @welpimoutofgoodideas @tiffy119@khaleesiclifford @sherlokiantheatrenerd @buttercup337 @egwenmaree

[what-ever-happened-to-chip]

Marcus/Lana story I wrote, takes place after Gray had his freak out in the kitchen in the last story.

Marcus didn't release my hand the entire walk to his bedroom. He pushed the door lightly shut and dug in his deep pockets for his cigarettes. Marcus' hands were soft from lack of doing just about anything with them and his bulged knuckles locked safely between mine. Although he always loved to talk, it seemed like now he didn't just want to, he needed to. "Heyaa...you alright?" Gotta start somewhere Lana. "Yes would be a vague statement on the matter, but yes I am ultimately okay." He exhaled the thick Pall Mall smoke. He gave me a reassuring smile. "Any incidence like the such can shake someone, we are all made to preserve our mind and body and to see both at jeopardy leads essentially back to our own selfish motives of survival. A crass reminder, but a neccesary one." "Yeah I guess I'm sorta used to it being in camp by now. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing." "Would you excuse me for just one moment, dear." He gently placed my hand on my own knee. As he swiftly exited the room, I could feel the warmth leave my hand. My eyes gazed around his room. He was neatish, but very cluttered. Spread across his desk was piles of notebooks and books, notecards with his immaculate penmanship jotting ideas, overflowing ashtrays 90% pall mall filters. His closet was packed to the brim with blazers, cardigans, many dulled colors of the rainbow mismatched together. He loved clothes and took the pride to dress up in his own unique fashion everyday. These thoughts made me love him more. 'THIS IS BOOOORING, she's just sitting there, let's follow Marcus and see what he's doing until she gets back." "Perhaps he is only using the faciluties." I was gonna show him wrong, check and mate, camera engaged to Marcus, and bam, harry was right. Marcus at a reasonable fast pace, hands in pocket, walked down the stairs and turned the corner on to the third door on the right. He gently knocked and called out, "Denny, would this be a bad time to inquire for your time?" "Uh shit, hold on.." "Oh my god Aiden don't, he'll see" "Babe, it's cool, chill..." "whisper whisper....whisper" The door swung open. Jenn was rearranging loose strands of hair while trying to hold the comforter over her exposed bra. She was always jealous to give up alone time with Aiden, but Marcus was his friend and he needed a best friend, especially a cool one like Marcus. "Whatchu need homes?" "Would you be able to spare a gram for the night, a sharp too? I have been outta stock at the present time. "Yeah fer sure, if Joni hasn't fucking washed me out. For a bitch that can get free drugs whenever she wants, she seems to never have any of her own shit. Gray has ghosted the bitch so she's crawling around my shit these days." In a little flower shaped box, Jenn had lovingly gave all Aiden's "shit" a proper place to live in the bedroom. No twice used needles in her perfect little world. Marcus laughed in his head at the concept of a girlfriend being more worried about the physical mess of addiction rather than the cause it had on the boyfriend in case. However, the only annoyance drugs had in Jenn's life was it meant Aiden would talk to his friends more. Aiden held out the box like a bowl of candy and Marcus proceeded to pick out a 1/2 inch rock and assorted tools for the activity. "Thank you good friend, we'll converse tomorrow. Goodnight, Jenavieve." Most of Aiden's friend didn't bother acknowledge Jenn, it felt good that Marcus always at least gave her a greeting or a goodbye, sometimes both. They hugged each other tightly, for almost a full minute. Aiden rested his head on Marcus's shoulder like a toddler. Marcus closed his eyes and held a soft smile. Harry was bored. Thank god he was finally leaving. Oh fuck. "Ayyye ya Marcus, how ya doin?" Harry boringly sat through another 20 minute conversation him and Gippal had about dead romantic languages. This was so stupid, he never thought he hated Gippal until this moment. "Of course, to interpret any eastern religions, namingly Hinduism, Buddhism would never be the proper message without rudimentary knowledge of traditional Sanskrit, we could only roughly use Hindi to roughly define it, but well, jo hai no hai." They both let out pretentious laughs. "Well yeah, but couldn't ya say that about dead greek, latin, and all the like? Lots of those Christian fanatics like to use Latin instead of language, makes it deeper er something like that." he leaned back and clicked his tongue for no apparant reason. "Well fanatic indeed is the key word their, seemingly Christianity's domination of the whole western world led to Latin's prevelance yet today, however Sanskrit is actually still spoken as a live changeble language. The difference between a dead language lies not in the fact their are speakers still, but rather the ability to alter and update language to our modern needs." "I guessum, but maybe the inflexibility makes the language more understandable, certainly easier to learn, hell, sed quid scio?" "Clearly you know a great deal, my friend." This was so gay. Harry couldn't give a fuck about language or latin or anyone of it. He knew some Latin cause of his spells, but he didn't need to speak it. Just speak English, i'm sick of having to put on the translators just to get a joke. Oh thank god they are finishing up. Finally. "Indeed somethign to think about. Very well, Satyricon amicus~" "Oib, oib. facile accipere pitto" "I detect by your accent shift that was Al Bhed?" "oui kud ed syh, hmmm, lmajan" "That's just it, written Al Bhed is an easy cryptograph, so I am more or less fluent there, but spoken I have not quite grasped the dialect." "You got it man, just like any other, you gots to talk with it. Yer good at talkin so it shouldn't be no problemo" "Indeed so, I only find it would be fair to speak Lana, and your, natural language, makes for better conversation to speak the way another thinks." "How's that girlie doin' these days?" "Oh quite well, but to know for sure i'd better get back to her company" "Do yer thang man, I gotta work on some....." he began muttering whatever bullshit to himself and pacing away. Fucking finally he proceeded back to where Harry wanted him. That was super annoying.

The slouched Lana perked up at the sight of him returning. She'd paced the room and looked through his writings, he didn't ever have a concern for privacy and if he did he would never  tell her, he would merely just keep it a secret. She was used to being patient when it came to Marcus. He wasn't neccesarily easily distracted, but easily engaged in whatever was around him. She hated herself for being disappointed that he brought back H. "I'm sorry I kept you so long darling, as we rest society continues to thrive." He used many pet names with people, however darling he seemed to save for more special situations. She felt more relieved. It was cute seeing them together, but Harry wanted more. He needed more. "Fuck this i'm drugging her to ask him questions, i hate waiting for the bitch to do something. " "Indeed so Harry Potter." As much as Harry loved the sound of his own name, it was starting to bother him the way Christian kept saying it, like he was mocking him. Harry opened a secret cabinet to the left of the monitors and began scanning around for the proper potion to guide the situation into what he wanted. "Mmmmmm I think I'll use a dash of love, a bit of truth....." He busily mixed away. Christian sat completely still, but scanned the room thouroughly with his eyes. "That's the magic touch! Okay this should make her start asking him things that might make things funner..mwah haha...." "More fun." "Excuse moi?" "Funner is not a proper word. The expression would be 'more fun'" This guy was really getting on his fucking nerves. Ugh. He placed the potion in the vaporizer, isolated to only work on Lana and pumped it through the vents of Marcus's room. Immediatly the effects engaged. Lana uncontrolablly began to talk before comprehending fully what she had thought. "I thought you weren't using lately?" Oh god she sounded like a bitchy controlling girlfriend, but she really was just curious. Who was she kidding she was bothered and she didn't know why. He never got annoyingly high, he always coasted at a light level, stayed attentive and active in the conversation. Since the day she met him he was a drug user so why now would she want it to change? She truly hated being 'this girl.' Dammit. Why did she say that? "Of course I wasn't lately, but a break would not be a break if one did not return would it, just simply the way things were." He smiled warmly again and excused himself to the bathroom. He knew she didn't like watching him do it, so it was considerate of him, but a pang of loneliness ran over her. Moments later he returned a wave of contentment ran over him, yet she still wanted to talk. "So are you using because you got by upset by before?" Fuck Lana, why do you keep saying these things? Stupid, stupid. "Perhaps there is a connection there, of course, any sitution like that not only is alarmingly in it's own right, it's probably the past associations I share like any human does. Familiar negative stimuli. And well comfort is occasionally do." He went silent and pondered on the wall for a moment. He beginning scurrying around behind his worn out recliner he spent the better part of his time in when he was alone. He pulled out a wooden guitar and begin picking random chords. "Sure, it just seemed you....whatever. I don't know what I'm saying." "Lana dear, are you feeling well? You seem to be rather confused in your sentiments. I mean that in no way condescending, really are you alright?" "Yeah I just wanna know you're okay I guess, not hiding." "I am well, however certain thoughts have the tendency to make one over think so i'd rather level my brain out and find a way to express it more productively." "I guess, but....." She wanted to be careful to not say anything else stupid, but all her thoughts felt like diarrhea spewing out of her mouth. She didn't even mean all the thigns she said, they were just stupid insecurities that passed though, they weren't her. Were they? Dammit, dammit.

"Lana i'd like to show you a song I had written a long time ago, one that reminds myself of this feeling."

Song

Harry was on the edge of his seat. He fucking loved when kareoke/watching people came together so neatly. He could feel his jeans get tight. Lana watched him intently, trying to catch every word, tears welled in her eyes and she couldn't help but to fall even deeper. Fuck why does he do this to my head. "Wow that was......beautiful. I wish I was better  with words. That was...." As she rose from the bed, he moved the guitar aside to make a seat for her on his lap. they sat in silence for a moment as he rocked the chair back and forth to lull them. "Perhaps times where words are at a loss is when music is essential. Of course, I could say something, but well I figure it gets the point across." "hey Marcus, i was just wondering.....what are we?" His eyebrow raised in genuine confusion and turned her on his lap to be face to face. "What are we you ask....as in the title given to the intimacy we share? We've been over this dear, I've never needed the security of labels to define what I share with the ones in my life." "I mean yeah. I know.......but Liza wasn't she your girlfriend, what made her different. I mean I get it if you felt a different way....but I guess after all this time, I don't know. I'm being stupid." "Stupid? No never, what possibly gives you that idea? Oh Liza.....yes my 'girlfriend' Liza, a term she demanded be told to all our companions to solidify her insecurity with the situation. I honestly felt that it made no difference  other than the way other's view a connection, but the power of word does hold a weight in our lives. Language is a strong tool, but not the only one, of course. Could you elaborate what it is you desire from this?" Lana's cheeks flushed. Jesus is this how Memo felt every time she talked to a boy? This is horrible, no wonder she doesn't like dating. "I guess it's not always I need to know, just sometimes you seem you forget about me. Like your devotion... wow that's a gay word....comes and goes." She felt even stupider now, why couldn't she stop talking? It was like diarrhea coming out of her mouth. Fat chance he's gonna like me the same after this. I'm just the same insecure girl he's met 100 times. "Lana I wish you would tell me your first reaction rather than the contrived one you think I wanted to hear. This isn't like you." His eyebrows began to tighten into a concerned look. "Talk seems like it might only make you feel more minimilized, here let me play your song again. It seems our memories don't always stay constant in this camp. I know I had a memory of playing it, but it's as if someone erased it from our minds to try and relive the experience." He briefly glanced directly into the camera. Fuck he was on to Harry. How did he know that he purposely erased it so Marcus could sing it again like the first time? Whatever, it was working exactly how Harry wanted. Bingo.

Next Song

Two songs in my watching. Harry was rock hard. This was good so good. "Damn that was so CUHH YOOOT! You know they're your fav couple now too J, just admit it." "J?" "I didn't say that, why would I be thinking about J? He's actually gotten pretty boring and annoying, i say Jay like the name, it's a nickname we used at hogwarts to mean friend." "You do not need to lie to me Harry Potter, the results are futile." Lana pulled Marcus's hand and led him to the queen bed in the middle of the room. The slowly began removing clothing and kissing softly. They proceeded to make love, not fuck, for many hours. Harry got shy and turned the camera off.

"Do you fear intimacy Harry Potter?"

"noooo I just think it gets boring when people just screw forever and don't talk about things. On that note Harry pulled his robe around his body and scurried away to the restroom.

Christian remained in his seat. Smiling.

[poly-bus]

Colorful World (pt.1)

Happy late birthday to @bananabussquad-er hope you enjoy!

The laughter surrounded the boy’s ears, magnified tenfold by his headphones that fit securely on the top of his head. The panicked sounds of his friends hunting down their hiding spots added to the fun. The timer on the top of the screen ticked down as the seekers tried desperately to find the last few hiders.

“Where are ye ya fockin cunts!” David screeched, Marcel next to him, scouting the area. Evan gave a hearty chuckle as the two split up, trying their hardest. He hopped daringly out of his spot, using some of his sprint burst to hop to the next roof.

“I see him, that little owl fuck.” Tyler pointed out, attempting to get his way up the building in a feeble attempt to capture Evan.

“I’ve got eyes on Delirious.” Anthony called out, hurriedly climbing up the stairs inside the structure a few rooftops over.

Evan smiled to himself as he ran from the approaching pigman. A sudden bumping sound was played from the game as Evan’s player model changed, making him taller than he was a few seconds ago. Marcel laughed at him as a yelp of surprise emitted from the CanAisan. Marcel had climbed up the ladder on the side and essentially cornered Evan.

Oh woah oh

Oh woah oh

Oh woah oh

Oh woah oh

Now the tables had been turned. Now Evan only had one goal. Now that he was no longer hiding there was only one person left and Evan intended to be the one to catch him. The insane maniacal laughter crackled through Evan’s headphones.

“No one can catch the Delirious” The man on the ledge of the building laughed. While Marcel and Tyler had been distracted, Anthony had lost track of where Delirious had went. Now he was standing proudly, gloating about his new 'hiding’ spot.

“Wildcat.” Evan called out, looking to his friend's player model for assistance.

“What do you need Vanoss?” Tyler responded, quick to listen to the advice of his friend. Evan smiled at the screen as he gave the next order.

“Go climb up and try to get on the ledge. I'll stand below him so I get him when he falls.” Evan ordered. Marcel, David, and Anthony flanked the building just in case Delirious decided it would be a good idea to try to run. Evan concentrated on the timer, watching the seconds tick down. He smirked as he saw Tyler approaching the figure on the ledge. There was a quick series of fuck yous before the hockey masked man jumped off the ledge, only to be met with Evan jumping up just in time to hit the masked player model and win the game.

“Good game guys.” Marcel commented.

“There's the end of my video.” Wildcat replied, sounding very satisfied. Evan chuckled, content with the amount he filmed for the day.

“Sounds good to me guys. I've got some editing to do so I'll catch you later.”

The crew said their goodbyes as Evan quit the game and disconnected from the discord.

Hold on,

Something big is coming

Like a lightning bolt

A lightning bolt

The hum of the monitor was soothing as Evan looked over the clips of the Guess Who game they had played a few days ago. There were a few parts that he wanted to discard but most of the footage would be good enough to compress into at least a 20 minute video. He sighed, going to his window, pulling open the red curtains. The sky was a light grey. Just as it always was.

And this bright light

Illuminates the way

To a brand new place

A brand new day

Evan had never seen the color blue. He'd heard about it and dreamed of it but never seen the beautiful color for himself. In this world your soulmate was determined by eye color. You live your life seeing every other color except for the color of your soulmates eyes. Once you meet, your soulmate is supposed to fill the color void and the void in your own heart. Evan knew some people who had already found their perfect match. Tyler and Craig had been happy for as long as they had found each other. Evan had asked him what blue was like and Craig, to the best of his ability, had tried to explain it to him. Evan imagined it as being like a chilly winter day back in Canada. Something cold and bitter but easily sweetened. What would it be like when he finally saw his soulmate. Everything would suddenly be so different.

I don't know what to expect

But we'll never,

Be the,

Same

A vibration from his desk snapped Evan out of his thoughts. He took one last look at the grey sky before making his way back to his comfy gamers chair and recording setup. His phone vibrated again as he approached, picking the device up. He took a seat in the chair, running a hand through his raven hair before checking the lock screen.

New Message From:

Jonathan

Evan smiled, unlocking his phone, swiping over to the messenger. He tapped on the message, reading through it. He knew the hockey masked man wasn't one of many words when it came to his messages. Usually their conversations were blunt and straightforward. Something about this time felt different to the CanAisan.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Until you’re resting here with me (Love Actually AU) - Part 3

Finally!! Thought it would never get done. Not at all how I imagined it but I hope you all like it!

Part 1 // Part 2

In the end he’s saved from the shopping trip. Aaron cancelled, saying his Mum was ill and he had to help out behind the bar for the day. Robert took the hint, didn’t ask whether he wanted to reschedule. He still had to face going to dinner the following night. He pulls his best shirt from the wardrobe needing to know he looks good, and gets himself ready, all the while waiting for his phone to light up with a message to say it’s off.

It doesn’t come, so he drives the short distance to Luke and Aaron’s flat. It’s stupid, they’ve done this many times and it’s always a laugh. He supposes that this is what it’ll be like now, at least until he gets over this. Of course it’s Aaron who answers the door, scowl firmly in place.

“Luke’s just nipped to the shop, forgot some crucial ingredient or something. Shouldn’t be long.” Robert hung his coat up and followed him through to the kitchen. “Beer?”

“Sure. So how’s Chas?”

“Huh?” Aaron frowns as he passes him his beer. “Oh...yeah she’s fine now.”

“You could have told me the truth you know, if you didn’t want me to help you. I would have got it, expected it really.”

“What did you expect me to do? Why make it uncomfortable for both of us?”

“So why let me come here tonight? Or are you going to tell Luke all about it, make me squirm even more?” He should have never have come. He’s ruined everything, he’s going to lose his best friend, well really his only real friend and it’s all his own fault.

“No, that’s not...I just thought it would be easier! Give you time to deal with it.”

“I’ve been dealing with it for over a year, Aaron. I’m getting pretty good at it thank you.” He slams his beer bottle down on the counter. “I should go.”

“That long?” Aaron looked stunned, frozen. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Excellent conversation material, that, yeah? Why don’t I just go, leave you and Luke on your own. I’ll come up with some reason why I can’t be his best man.” He couldn’t face it, not any more, the guilt of hiding this from his best friend was too much, now Aaron knew it was weighing down on him again.

“Now you’re just being dramatic. Nothing’s changed. He doesn’t know anything. I told him you’d deleted the video by accident, he’s none the wiser. You really going to throw your friendship away over me?” He wants to say he’s worth it, but it isn’t really. He’s stopped from answering by the front door opening.

“You’re here then! Great!” He watches Luke stride around the kitchen, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s lips as he passes. “Right, out the pair of you, let me cook.”

He has no choice but to follow Aaron through to the living room. He’s always liked the house, it’s far more homely than his and he’s always been comfortable here, until tonight. Now he felt completely out of place and he’s wishing he’d brought Vic along with him. At least she could be relied upon to fill the empty silences.

“I’m not going to say anything, to Luke I mean. It’s not like anything is going on is it?”

“That simple, huh?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t see the point in the two of you falling out over it. Maybe one day all three of us can be mates, without all this getting in the way. I’ve been where you are.” Robert looks up at him, sitting on the opposite sofa.

“Really?”

“My mate, Adam, back when we were teenagers. I do know how you’re feeling.”

“And what, you got over it? I don’t need to hear how you understand. It doesn’t help me.”

“No I didn’t get over it, not for ages, nearly ruined our friendship. I don’t want that for you and Luke, I told you. Me and Adam are alright now. You’ll get over me.”

“This isn’t a silly teenage crush Aaron…” He can’t stop himself from getting up, from walking over to the sofa, sitting down next to Aaron.

He’s inches away from him, could easily just lean in and kiss him, he’s not moving away. It’s only Luke calling out that stops him. He jumps to his feet as the door opens, Aaron seemingly in a daze.

“Shouldn’t be long. You alright?”

“Er, no, not really. Not feeling too good mate. I really don’t think I can stay. Sorry mate.” He daren’t look at Aaron, hopes the state he’s in will convince Luke that he is actually ill. He certainly feels it. “Another time though, yeah?”

Luke tries to get him to accept a lift home but he turns him down, needs to be on his own, can’t believe what almost happened. He murmurs a goodbye to Aaron and he’s half heartedly waving goodbye to Luke and driving away, feeling like the worst friend in the world.

*****

He doesn’t hear from either of them for a few weeks, avoids Luke’s calls, answering texts telling him he’s busy at work. It can’t go on, he’s still supposed to be his best man, has things to do before the wedding but for now he lets himself ignore him. Aaron doesn’t call, not that he expected it. He hasn’t told anyone what happened, not even Victoria, no matter how many times she’s asked.

It’s close enough to Christmas now that he’s got invites to Christmas parties coming out of his ears. He goes to most of them, tries to get over himself, to get into the spirit of the season but not much works.

He blames the idea on the alcohol at his firm’s Christmas do, he would never have come up with it sober, but once it’s in his head he can’t shift it. It’s stupid, probably the stupidest thing he’s done in years and it’s not like Aaron doesn’t already know how he feels. Maybe he deserves to give himself one chance to just get his feelings out there properly and then he can let it go, move on.

*****

He stands outside their flat for what feels like an age before he manages to pluck up enough courage to ring the doorbell. He hides everything he’s carrying out of sight. He’s not sure what he’ll do if Luke answers. He’s taken long enough to pluck up the courage to do this he doesn’t think he can do it again. Thankfully he hears Aaron call out that he’ll get it and then his heavy footsteps getting closer. He can feel his heart rate going up, he’s sure the whole street can hear it.

“Oh...hi.” Aaron’s there now, in front of him. He looks confused and it takes him a few seconds to remember his plan. It’s Luke calling out, asking who it is that jolts him into action.

*PRETEND IT’S CAROL SINGERS*

Aaron nods and calls back and Robert can see the barest hint of interest interrupting the grumpiness on his features. He taps his phone, sets the carol he’d picked out playing before holding up the rest of the cards, expecting Aaron to slam the door in his face any second.

*THIS MIGHT BE THE MOST IDIOTIC THING*

*I’VE EVER DONE*

Aaron smiles at him but he looks completely bemused.

*BUT FOR NOW, I WANT TO SAY*

*WITHOUT HOPE OR EXPECTATION*

*JUST BECAUSE IT’S CHRISTMAS*

*(AND AT CHRISTMAS YOU TELL THE TRUTH...APPARENTLY!)*

*TO ME YOU ARE PERFECT*

*GRUMPY BUT PERFECT*

Aaron forgets himself and bursts out laughing and has to reach out and take the piece of card from him to get him to move on, he’s too busy staring at him.

*AND I LOVE YOU*

*MERRY CHRISTMAS*

He doesn’t stop to see Aaron’s expression, just stoops to pick up the cards and switch off the music from his phone. When he stands up Aaron’s just staring at him. If he were optimistic he’d say he could see a tear in his eye but it’s probably his imagination. He does exactly what he’d planned to do and turns and walks away.

It’s only when he hears footsteps that he stops and the next thing, Aaron has swung him round and he has his hands on his face, palms warm against his cold cheeks. He doesn’t have chance to speak before Aaron’s kissing him. He doesn’t know if anyone can see them, doesn’t care. If this is all he gets he’s going to savour every second.  It’s over before he can even think, Aaron pulling away from him. He doesn’t say anything just nods and Robert nods back and then he’s jogging back towards the flat. Robert waits until he hears the door close before he walks away.

“Enough. Stop now.”

*****

He spends the next few days dreading the wedding. He can hardly let Luke down not that late and seeing Aaron again is just going to be mortifying. He can’t actually believe what he did, can’t believe Aaron kissed him. He knows it didn’t mean anything, and he’s determined to put it all behind him. The first test of that will be the wedding tomorrow. Christmas Eve. Not that he feels the slightest bit festive. The only upside is that Vic will be there. He hadn’t realised just how much he missed her until they started spending time together again.

They’d spent the day Christmas shopping. He had left it all until the last minute as always, not that he has a huge amount of stuff to buy. She’d been horrified when he’d told her that despite her invitation he’d be spending the day alone and hadn’t let up until he relented. So now he had a few more presents to buy and something else to worry about, seeing Diane and Andy again. They’d not been at the party and he’d avoided them ever since but he had no chance at Christmas.

Now she’s gone and he’s all alone with a pile of presents to wrap and a glass of whiskey beside him. The Christmas decorations are up, he’d done that much and there’s an old black and white film on the TV. He just has to work himself up to wrapping things up. He’ll get to it in a minute.

He’s just finishing the first gift when the doorbell rings. Extracting himself from a tangle of sticky tape he opens the door, mouth hanging open when he sees Aaron standing there.

“If you’ve come to have a go or…”

“I haven’t.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares down at the floor. “I, er...me and Luke, it’s over.” He literally can’t speak, he must be dreaming. All he can make himself do is usher Aaron inside and shut the door against the cold. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You mean you’ve had a row and you’ve stormed out?” It had to be, couldn’t be anything else.

“No, I mean I told him I couldn’t marry him.” He moves closer, backing Robert further into the house. “Told him it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Aaron…”

“I can’t marry him when I’ve started having feelings for someone else. Someone who’s spent a year acting as though they didn’t like me because they didn’t want to upset their friend.” He moves closer and Robert’s sure he isn’t breathing. “You would have stood there and let me marry him, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah. You love him, he’s my friend...Aaron I don’t understand what you’re doing here?”

“I didn’t sleep last night, or the three nights before that either. I haven’t been able to sleep since you appeared at the door playing fuckin’ carols because who does that?”

“Do you want me to apologise?” He feels like he’s in some strange parallel world, he has no idea what the hell is going on.

“No...I can’t get you out of my head and I don’t know what to do...I just know I can’t marry him. He doesn’t make me feel like I’ve felt the last three days.” Robert backs up against the back of the sofa as Aaron keeps moving closer, now just inches away from him. “But you do and...I can’t ignore it.”

“Does he know? About me?”

“No. I just told him it didn’t feel right, that I didn’t want to end up hurting him. If we...we’ll have to tell him at some point.”

“Not yet. I...can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t...what I did, it was to just get over it all, once and for all. I didn’t expect this.” He jumps a little as Aaron’s arms come around him, resting in the small of his back. It feels good, like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“I know, maybe I’d been denying it since I saw that video. You know what, I’m done talking. Are you going to kiss me, or what?”

It wasn’t perfect, it could still all fall apart and he would never not feel guilty about hurting his friend but for now it’s Christmas and Aaron’s here and it’s enough. The rest they can fix later.

[vampiretheory]

Hello. According to @funwithlanguages​ post you can understand a lot of a language by learning the ~300 most common words. I decided to translate the list into my native language, Danish. If anyone finds any mistakes, please let me know.

If you want someone to look over your Danish, feel free to message me also, if I have the time I’ll gladly help (I’m currently helping several people I know in real life learning danish also)

First Verbs

To be · At være

there is · Der er

Have · (At) have

Do · (At) gøre

Go · Gå

Want · Vil have

Can · Kan

Need · (At have) brug for

Think · Tænke

Know · Vide

Say · Sige

Like · (At) synes godt om

Speak · Tale

Learn · (At) lære

Understand · (At) forstå

Conjunctions

that (as in “the woman that…”) · der / som (Not applicable for “I think that…”)

And · Og

Or · Eller

But · Men

Because · Fordi

Though · Selvom / Dog (It depends on the context)

so (meaning “therefore”; e.g. “I wanted it, so I bought it”) · Derfor

If · Hvis

Prepositions

Of · Af

To · Til

From · Fra

In · I

at (a place) · Ved

at (a time) · Ved

This is very unusual in the danish language. “meet me at 10” would be “mød mig klokken 10” klokken meaning time in this case.

With · Med

About · Om

like (meaning “similar to”) · Som (similar to would be: svarende til)

for (warning, this one has several meanings that you need to take care of) · For

before (also as a conjunction) · Før

after (also as a conjunction) · Efter

During · Imens / Mens

Question Words

Extra comma rule! Whenever there’s a question word that starts with Hv there’s a comma before. Example: Ved du, hvem der gjorde det? Nej, men jeg ved, hvad der er sket.

Who · Hvem

What · Hvad

Where · Hvor

When · Hvornår

Why · Hvorfor

How · Hvordan

How much · Hvor meget

Which · Hvilken

Adverbs

a lot · Meget

a little · Lidt

Well · Godt

Badly · Dårligt

Only · Kun

Also · Også

Very · Meget

too (as in “too tall”) · For

too much · For meget

so (as in “so tall”) · Så

so much · Så meget

more (know how to say “more … than …”) · Mere

less (know how to say “less … than …”) · Mindre

as … as … (e.g. “as tall as”) · Så… som… (så høj som..)

Most · Mest

Least · Mindst

Better · Bedre

Best · Bedst

Worse · Værre

Worst · Værst

Now · Nu

Then · Dengang (meaning back then) / derefter (as in first this, then this.)

Here · Her

There · Der

Maybe · Måske

Always · Altid

Usually · Som regel / for det meste

Often · Ofte / tit

Sometimes · Sommetider / Nogle gange

Never · Aldrig

Today · I dag

Yesterday · I går

Tomorrow · I morgen

Soon · Snart

Almost · Næsten

Already · Allerede

Still · Stadig

Even · Selvom

Enough · Nok

Adjectives

the, a (technically articles) · We don’t have “the” in danish. “A” is either en or et depending on the noun. Instead of the, we end the word in either -en or -et again depending on the noun. (The dog = Hunden. A dog = En hund.)

This · Dette / Det her / Denne / Den her (again depending on the noun)

That · Det der / Den der

Good · God / godt (dependant on the noun?)

Bad · Dårlig / dårligt (dependant on the noun?)

All · Alle

Some · Nogle

No · ingen

Any · Nogen

Many · Mange

Few · Få

Most · Flest / Mest

Other · Anden / Andet (denpendant on the noun)

Same · Samme

Different · Forskellig

Enough · Nok (there is enough = der er nok)

One · En

Two · To

a few · Nogle få

First · Først / Første

Next · Næste

last (meaning “past”, e.g. “last Friday”) · Sidste

last (meaning “final”) · Sidste / Endelige

Easy · Nem

Hard · Svær

Early · Tidlig

Late · Sen

Important · Vigtig

Interesting · Interessant

Fun · Sjov

Boring · Kedelig

Beautiful · Smuk

Big · Stor

Small · Lille

Happy · Glad

Sad · Trist / Ked af det

Busy · Travl

Excited · Spændt

Tired · Træt

Ready · Klar

Favorite · Yndlings

New · Ny

right (meaning “correct”) · Rigtig

Wrong · Forkert

True · Sand / Sandt

Pronouns

Know them in the subject (“I”), direct object (“me”), indirect object (“to me”), and possessive (“my”) forms.

I · Jeg

You · Du

She · Hun

He · Han

It · Den / Det

We · Vi

you (plural) · I (Written in uppercase)

They · De

Nouns

Everything · Alt

Something · Noget

Nothing · Ingenting

Everyone · Alle / Alle sammen

Someone · Nogen

no one · Ingen

(name of the language you’re studying) · Dansk

English · Engelsk

Thing · Ting

Person · Person

Place · Sted

time (as in “a long time”) · Tid

time (as in “I did it 3 times”) · Gang(e) (Jeg gjorde det 3 gange)

Friend · Ven (male and female, used most often) / Veninde (female)

Woman · Kvinde

Man · Mand

Money · Penge

Country · Land

(name of your home country) · Danmark

City · By

Language · Sprog

Word · Ord

Food · Mad

House · Hus

Store · Butik / Forretning

Office · Kontor

Company · Firma

Manager · Manager

Coworker · Kollega

Job · Arbejde / Job

work (as in “I have a lot of work to do”) · Arbejde

Problem · Problem

Question · Spørgsmål

Idea · Idé

Life · Liv

World · Verden

Day · Dag

Year · År

Week · Uge

Month · Måned

Hour · Time

mother, father, parent · Mor, far, forælder (forældre in plural)

daughter, son, child · Datte, søn, barn

wife, husband · Kone, Mand

girlfriend, boyfriend · Kæreste (gender neutral)

More Verbs

work (as in a person working) · Arbejde

work (meaning “to function”, e.g. “the TV works”) · Virke

See · Se

Use · Bruge

Should · Burde

Believe · Tro

Practice · Øve sig

Seem · Synes (Context dependant)

Come · Komme

Leave · Gå / Forlade

Return · Vende tilbage / Tilbagevende

Give · Give

Take · Tage

Bring · Bringe

look for · Lede efter

Find · Finde

get (meaning “obtain”) · Få

Receive · Få

Buy · Købe

Try · Prøve

Start · Starte

stop (doing something) · (At) Stoppe / (Jeg) stopper

Finish · Færdiggøre

Continue · Forstætte

wake up · Vågne

get up · Stå op (get out of bed)

Eat · Spise

eat breakfast · Spise morgenmad (verb + noun)

eat lunch · Spise frokost (verb + noun)

eat dinner · Spise aftensmad (verb + noun)

Happen · Ske

Feel · Føle

create (aka “make”) · Lave

cause (aka “make”) · Forårsage / at være årsag til

meet (meeting someone for the first time) · Møde

meet (meaning “to bump into”) · Støde ind i / Møde

meet (an arranged meeting) · Møde

ask (a question) · Spørge

ask for (aka “request”) · Bede om

Wonder · Undre (sig)

Reply · Svare

Mean · Mene

Read · Læse

Write · Skrive

Listen · Lytte

Hear · Høre

Remember · Huske

Forget · Glemme

Choose · Vælge

Decide · Beslutte (sig)

be born · (Blive) Født

Die · Dø

Kill · Dræbe

Live · Leve

Stay · Blive

Change · Ændre

Help · Hjælpe

Send · Sende

Study · Studere

Improve · Forbedre

Hope · Håbe

Care · (At) Bekymre (sig om)

Phrases

Hello · Hej

Goodbye · Farvel

thank you · Tak

you’re welcome · Det var så lidt / Selv tak

excuse me (to get someone’s attention) · Undskyld mig

Sorry · Undskyld

it’s fine (response to an apology) · Det er okay

Please · We don’t have this. We would say “Vil du være sød at…” (Would you be so kind as to…) ending the sentence in “..., tak”

Yes · Ja

No · Nej

Okay · Okay

My name is · Mit navn er...

What’s your name? · Hvad er dit navn? (uncommon) / Hvad hedder du? (common)

Nice to meet you. · Godt at møde dig / Rart at møde dig

How are you? · Hvordan har du det?

I’m doing well, how about you? · Jeg har det godt, hvad med dig?

Sorry? / What? (if you didn’t hear something) · Undskyld? / Hvad?

How do you say ______? · Hvordan siger man ____?

What does ______ mean? · Hvad betyder ____?

I don’t understand. · Jeg forstår ikke (helt) / Det forstår jeg ikke (common) / Jeg forstår det ikke

Could you repeat that? · Kan du gentage det?

Could you speak more slowly, please? · Kan du snakke lidt langsomere?

Well (as in “well, I think…”) · Altså

Really? · Virkelig?

I guess that · Jeg tror at...

It’s hot. (talking about the weather) · Her er varmt / Det er varmt

It’s cold. (talking about the weather) · Her er koldt / Det er koldt

[themagicnut-blog]

Chapter 7: The Arrival

The Thursday before the storm hit I had my 41 week check up and was only dialted 1 cm and my cervix hadn’t even started to thin out…

Around 12:30 a.m. that Saturday I woke up with what I can only describe as a sudden urge to shit. Like dinner had sat wrong, and maybe it did? I had tried a new Pinterest foil packet recipe for dinner that night (I had turned into quite the cook during my pregnancy.) Maybe the spices weren’t agreeing with the tiny goblin that felt the need to live in my rib cage?

Yeah that was probably it.

So I got up, attempted a bathroom trip, and went back to bed. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning I fell back asleep, only to be woken up 2 hours later with the same feeling.

Back to the bathroom while George and our 3 month-old puppy snored away. Still nothing moving. So I walked around the house a bit. Googled a few things, and realised I was in the beginning stages of labor.

Now it’s 3 a.m. and mom and dad are getting “It’s time” text messages. The rolling stomach quickly turned into contractions and within an hour they were 2-3 minutes apart and lasting almost a minute…and boy were they knocking the breath out of me. Bags were already packed and ready and I knew a long day was ahead of me and decided a shower before we headed to hospital was probably a good idea.

Reality was setting in and I spent a good 20 minutes bawling my eyes out in the shower. I know that nobody is ever really ready, but at this point I was doubting whether or not I would even be a good mother. If I could even be a mother. And what the fuck I was thinking and how was I gonna do this?

After the shower I got ready, and made the call to the after hours nurse. I told her that I was a week overdue, where my contractions were at, and she confirmed that it was definitely time to get to the hospital. I was crying too hard to tell her thank you when she told me congratulations and couldn’t even muster a goodbye before hanging up the phone.

I woke George up, who seemed pissed that I was interuppting his sleep to drive me to the hospital because our son was on his way and at one point told him I would just drive myself.

By 5 a.m. we were out the door and on our way and I was in the passenger seat wiping away tears…

We met my mom at the hospital and made our way into the ER and made our way back to a room.

In less than 48 hours I went from 1 cm and not thinned at all to 4cm and 50% effaced.

Holy fuck. And the contractions were getting worse and worse.

6 a.m. - 5cm

7 a.m. - 6cm. HELLO EPIDURAL

10 a.m. - 7cm

11 a.m. - still 7cm… let’s break her water and get her on drip…

Anddddd now we're at a screeching hault. Family has started to pile in at this point and my loving boyfriend had decided that he’s going to make constant food runs, bringing back things that make the room smell amazing knowing that I’m starving and not allowed to eat anything. Dad's in PA hunting and ready to catch his flight the next day, and more family is packing their bags to make the trip to meet the tiny human once he makes his entrance.

At some point my epidural had been pulled out and the contractions were excruciating.

Epidural #2.

In the process of switching me into different positions since the little one was being stubborn and didn’t want to move down into the correct birthing position, let alone the birthing canal, they lost his pulse. Mom and George had left the room to smoke, and when they came back in I was in tears, and on oxygen.

And mom freaked out.

By the way, baby was fine. He had rolled onto his cord or something silly and the monitor lost him for a minute.

5:00 p.m. time to push.

I’m not kidding you, the delivery doctor had George on one side, and my mother on the other holding my legs up while I pushed. Talked about a bonding moment! And I was cracking jokes with the nurses the whole time between the pushing.

“Were having a party, who else wants to see my ass?”

“Oh that’s a new voice, who are you?”

“Someone better be taking me out to dinner after this many people seeing my vag.”

The maternity ward had just been renovated, and these idiots thought a big light above my head, that when turned off was basically a mirror, was a good idea. The pushing itself wasn’t too bad, and I was handling it pretty well…until they told me to stop pushing and I made the mistake of looking up and seeing the reflection of the umbilical cord wrapped around my sons neck and didn’t hear any cries.

At that point, the tears started pouring. But the managed to cut it free from his neck and after one more push he was out.

5:30 p.m. - Welcome to the world little one. 22 inches long, 8 lbs 3 oz. 10 tiny fingers, 10 tiny toes. Perfect little boy.

Honestly, them stitching me up from having to cut me hurt worse than the delivery itself. Holy shit. But once the little one was cleaned up, and I was stitched up, I finally got to hold him.

I didn’t have that initial moment of awe. I was still in shock that the goblin inside of me was actually looking at me now, and that life had changed as I knew it. I was no longer a human with a basketball under her shirt. This was my child, and I was officially mom. I kinda just starred at him. I’m not even sure I smiled. I couldn’t tell you what I was feeling honestly. But whatever it was, was not your usual hallmark scene where the new mom starts crying and kisses the baby and everyone’s happy.

They asked me if I was planning on breastfeeding, and I really had not made that decision yet, but they encouraged me to attempt a first latch to see how it went…and he was all for it! Latched on like a damn professional.

Right after that they took him back from me to finish up what they needed to do and run all their tests and what not to make sure he was healthy. Of course he was perfect. Thank God. And I had my first moment of panic when they took him out of the room.

Excuse me, where the fuck are you going with my baby?!

Just like that the fear and concern was over. That initial “I can’t do this” when they placed him on me was gone and for the first time I saw what I can only describe as my heart outside of my body.

George ran to get me food and to let our mutts out and they took the little one for a few hours so I could rest a bit. Once they brought him back, he didn’t leave my sight.

Family started trickling back in taking turns holding him and cooing over how adorable he was and eventually the crowd left and it was just the 3 of us. My little family.

For a brief moment, I loved George again. It was something to do with seeing him hold our son that blinded me from the reality of relationship for a moment. But within a few hours I was back to hating his existence…and suprise, guess who was getting no help? Me! Haha

The next day was the same, I spent the morning getting cuddles and falling more in love with my son while George did whatever and complained about being at the hospital with me.

My dad finally got in around 1030 p.m. that Sunday and immediately scooped up his first grandbaby. It was the first time I had seen that man cry since him, my stepmom, and sister had decided to move to PA.

I know I had mentioned before that my dad and I didn’t have the greatest relationship. But he had actually left my stepmom and sister to fly down and stay with me for a week once my son was born… I will forever be grateful for that week (well get to that later, too.)

[nothesc]

Goodbye Skam

Hello everybody

Since as we all know Skam is ending tomorrow I just wanted to take a moment to write a post thanking all the amazing people I’ve met here and that have made the Skam experience so much better.

You know, I remember the exact moment when my life here in Tumblr changed. It was the day that the last clip of episode 4x03 was about to air. I remember that I had this scene in my head and I decided to write it and post it even though I’ve never really liked to share my writings because I’ve always thought that I’m no good at it. I remember that after that I went to the cinema and when I got out of it I checked Tumblr and I was completely overwhelmed by the support and love you all showed to that drabble. And after that I decided to post another fic and after that another one and another one and another one until today.

Another meaningful moment for me was when I decided to do the Skam Week. I remember being so crashed after episode 5 that I thought I’d never write anything again but when I saw that everybody here in Tumblr was as sad as I was I decided to try to make everyone feel a little bit better and that’s how the Skam Week was born and let me tell you that I can’t thank you all enough for the support that you showed me during that week. Just the simple thought of one person taking the time to read something that I’ve written, it still amazes me.

I can’t put into words how amazing and special this season has been for me. Because I’ve had the chance to live it with all of you and that have made the whole experience a lot better. The excitement I got every time there was an update and I got to share my thoughts with you and you share yours with mine that’s something I’ve never taken for granted and it’s one of the things I’m going to miss the most.

I love Skam as a whole but this season has been special for me because I’ve got to live the full experience, I’ve got to feel the anxiety and excitement while waiting for an update, feel the frustration when the update wasn’t what we expected, feel the joy when it was better than we expected. I’ve cried, I’ve laughed, I’ve got angry and I’ve got happy and what this season has made me feel no show has ever made me feel. And again, a huge part of that is thanks to all of you who are here every day sharing this experience with me, making me feel part of something.

When things went wrong in my life for whatever reason, when I was overwhelmed or sad I’d just go in here and see your posts and your messages and I would instantly get in a better mood. When I was too tired to even write or to even think I’d tell myself “you have to do this, you owe it to them”.

With all these what I want to say is THANK YOU. Thank you, thank you and a thousand times thank you for being there to share this experience with me, via fanfics, via posts, via direct messages, via anon messages. Everything.

I’m not going to mention all the people that has been there for me one by one because I’d never end but I want to thank each of you who has taken a little bit of your time to read something I’ve posted, being it a fic or not, who has taken the time to like, reblog, comment or send me an ask. Thank you to everyone who has lived with me in my denial island where everything was happy. Thank to all of you lovely people with who I’ve been sharing conversations about Skam and about life via chats, you know who you are and you’re all super important to me. Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to translate the clips and the texts because without you, us international fans wouldn’t be able to enjoy this amazing show.

And finally, thank you SKAM.

Thank you because when I say that this show has taken over my life I swear I’m not exaggerating. This show has taken over my life this season and I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world. And especially Yousef and Sana’s relationship, I’ve never been so invested in a ship in my life because what they made me feel, I can’t even put it into words, it’s the purest relationship I’ve ever seen.

I know that once I watch the last clip I’m going to feel like a part of me has been taken and I know it’s going to be really hard to deal with the loss of Skam but I’m sure that we will survive this because we are a family. And I’d like to take this chance to say that even if tomorrow the clip isn’t what we would like it to be let’s all try to enjoy it because it’s the last clip we’ll ever get and I want us to enjoy it together, no wars, no fights.

Thank you Julie Andem for creating this show, even if sometimes we’ve wanted to kill you, you’re an awesome writer and I’ve never seen a more perfect show in my life. The way this show makes me feel with one scene, with one look, with one sentence, with one song even with one text, it’s something I’ve never felt with any other show.

Thank you Sana Bakkoush for teaching me that hate doesn’t come from religion, it comes from fear. Thank you for teaching me that we have to put other people first and we have to be nice to everyone even when they wrong us. But also thank you for teaching me that we need to speak up for ourselves and fight against the unfair. Thank you for represent all of us who feel like we’re not the main character in our own lives. Thank you for being the way you are and for teaching us to be tolerant and respectful and that we should rather be true losers than fake winners.

Thank you Isak Valtersen for teaching me that we’re not alone. Thank you for teaching me that life is now and that we should rather live a true life than a fake one. Thank you for being the one who introduced me to this amazing show.

Thank you Noora Amalie Sætre for teaching me that everyone we meet is fighting a battle we know nothing about and to be kind, always. Thank you for teaching me that people need people and that our body needs potatoes.

Thank you Eva Kviig Mohn for teaching me that our opinion of ourselves should be more important than the opinion people have about us. Thank you for teaching me to forgive and to ask for forgiveness.

Thank you Vilde, Chris, Yousef, Elias, Even, Mutta, Adam, Mikael, Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi, Linn, Eskild and every single character of this show for teaching me what a true friendship is. Thank you for teaching me what true love is. Thank you for teaching me that every story has two sides, two versions, and that we shouldn’t make assumptions until we know all the story. Thank you for teaching me that everyone makes mistakes and that we should learn from them.

Thank you SKAM for being the best show I’ve ever watched.

And thank you all for sharing this experience with me.

SKAM will end soon but we will always have it in our hearts and we won’t ever forget what this show has taught us.

THANK YOU.

And remember

ALT ER LOVE. ALT ER SKAM.