#except Ford is so in the closet that the closet is his house

[yeenkingart]

Drawing a (very much a projection) comic of stanford coming out to fiddleford, but not knowing the word for what he is. This is very personal to me, it probably wont be colored or done up nice, I'm not really that kind of artist.

these are their jammies :) Fiddle wears the one on the right and ford wears the science one

[brothermoth]

on trans men

I think there's a huge uptick in transphobia (I shan't use the no no word because this isn't about that, but I will use the tag for traction) towards trans men. It is NOT from any one group in particular, but I think the queer community especially needs to reckon with this alongside discussions of transfeminism and the overall social reckoning with trans people as a whole. We're a hot topic right now and facing so much fucking nonsense.

I think y'all need to hear from a person. We're all people, I think we forget sometimes.

I'm 5'1, I've got uncomfortably big tits. I look like a 13 year old closeted gay boy if you squint your eyes a bit. I do not pass, except maybe to old people once in a while who think I'm a child. In my personal life I do not discuss my gender identity. I'm not out to a single family member and I pushed my mom far enough by getting my hair cut short and buying men's clothes—so I will not be pushing further until I'm out of the house. I wouldn't necessarily be unsafe, but it would ruin every single (already deeply awkward) relationship with every person in my family. I think the stress would finally do me in, and I literally just stopped being suicidal like eight months ago when I started college.

I don't feel like a person, just someone in a state of waiting like I've been in a cocoon my whole life with no end in sight. Starting college was a chance for me to peek out a bit and start to explore something I really couldn't before. For the first time I could actually start to say I'm transmasc.

Hearing someone who I already felt disliked me say "ugh I hate men" spiked my anxiety through the damn roof. I need y'all to understand what that feels like to a trans man, especially one just starting to step out of the closet. I have C-PTSD and severe trust issues to boot, and now I have to decide whether we just don't click as people or if she (a queer woman) just doesn't like me because I'm masc. I've had it happen, it's not an unfounded anxiety spiral.

It's not actively oppressing me for her to say that, but it still hurts. You don't THINK about who you are hurting. It's not Kyle with his MAGA hat and Ford F-150. It's the closeted trans guy who is now deeply wary of you and also overanalyzing everything he does to avoid making you uncomfortable.

I might be taking this discourse a bit personally. I'm aware, despite my brain being a soup of mental illness. It's just strangers on the internet after all, but it does bleed into my own personal life and it's fucking heartbreaking. It really is.

I think some of you forgot that trans men are people. I think some of you have stripped us of our humanity and our lives and the things that we struggle with every day. I'll call it what it is: it's fucking transphobia.

You do not get to enable or enact transphobia on trans men in the name of feminism. We're your fucking allies. Abortion bans and transphobic legislature and abuse in relationships and ostracisation from society and family. We're not a monolithic group of bearded Abercrombie models (not to shame those who are, y'all are great), in fact I think it's fair to say that most trans men are seen as women. A lot of us don't correct people when they assume. To everyone but myself I'm a smartass autistic girl. I have more in common with the incredible Jennifer Coates in her article "I am a trans woman. I am in the closet. I am not coming out" than I do with a cis man.

And I'm sorry but there's very few trans men with ANY social privilege to oppress anyone. To pretend otherwise is to be ignorant of our lives, our history, and us as people who are often in the same situations as trans women. We're seen as women who are "trying to be men" trying to achieve something that even cis men can't get right. We're "dykes" we're "trannies" we're sex perverts and sex workers and faggots and failed daughters who will never do anything right. Budget lesbians, little girls. Cis womanhood and masculinity are things that no trans person can ever achieve. Don't be foolish enough to pretend otherwise.

Trans women you are my allies. My transfem friends are in the same situation as me. Afraid to come out, stuck being yourself only in certain places and struggling with our own cages of oppression.

Lesbians you are my allies. Especially you, butch lesbians. Never good enough, never perfect enough, never what your parents wanted and always questioned about the way you dress or do your hair.

We're not as different as we often think.

Building community and solidarity means listening and understanding sharing experiences that are often so similar.

Communism=community I don't know why SO MANY Marx stans refuse to understand that his views rely on understanding and cooperation between working class people (which is also why I think communism is deeply flawed....i think daddy Karl had a bit too much faith in humanity, but that's another issue)

Separatism is death. I am not kidding. You know what emperor penguins do when Arctic winters get to sub zero temperatures? They huddle together and take turns bearing the brunt of the wind.

Don't fucking buy into separatist bullshit. Find fucking common ground with your allies, talk it through like adults instead of resorting to name calling and hatred.

Any activism worth it's salt must come from a place of love rather than hate. Vitriol solves nothing and y'all are tearing us all apart.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on Tech's Looks

(Me: "Doug, so you know, a lot of people are unhappy that the Bad Batch was made to be lighter then the regs. It's a hot topic."

Doug: "Well, here's my theory on the matter. I hope the kids on the Internet (his words for Tumblr) don't get too spicy over this. It's all in good fun. I hope it makes 'em smile and think a bit.")

After having a firm, peer-reviewed discussion (and by that, I mean endless texts with Doug) it has been concluded that Tech has lighter skin and hair, and a slimmer build, due to the Kaminoans leaning harder into the hillbilly part of Jango Fett’s genes, whereas the regs got the nicer, prettier, more amenable genes. 

In short, Tech looks the way he does…because he is a blue-collar white guy from the American South.  

A Florida redneck, specifically.  

And let me (by way of Doug) tell you: rednecks do not have beautiful tans, flawless fades, snatched waists, muscular thighs, diamond-sharp cheekbones, the ability to follow directions, or perfect matching armor, all of which a reg has. 

(Sorry, Howser, go back to guarding Ryloth or posing for GQ or whatever it is you do.)

Back to Tech. Look at that man and tell me the shit he gets up to would not be constantly at the top of r/floridaman

A lot of people might clutch their pearls, and be shocked at this revelation. 

“He has a fancy accent! He’s persnickety about certain things! He’s my fancy pretty boi and I’m going to dress him up in a gold thong in my fan art!”

You do you, kid. But let Doug and his neighbor here, Dr. Meat Muffin, defend this deranged argument, here. Using anthropological research applying autoethnographic methodologies that they conducted independently at one point. 

(By that, we mean that Doug is from the bayous of Louisiana and has lived in the Florida Panhandle before moving Up North. Dr. MM attended graduate school in a redneck hot zone, lived in said redneck hot zone for a while, and married a Texan as well. Hook 'em gig 'em and wreck 'em)

After all, if you want an army to win over the galaxy and work with the Jedi, you want well-mannered, shiny, handsome men with melanin and agreeable personalities.

You do not want a pale-assed weirdo in jeans and a receding hairline who can’t get off his phone to work closely with orphaned space wizards. 

Tech’s an anarchic Floridian piece of tornado bait and that’s why he look the way he do, says Doug.

Here's why Doug says Tech is a Redneck:

Mandalorians are Space Rednecks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trx7fDdlIo0. I do not own the rights to the video, but my God, it is perfection. A masterpiece. Mandalorians are rednecks in space, who end up colonizing Space Florida, no questions asked. Our theory is Tech is merely the concentrated, Waffle House-fistfighting, chew-dipping, Mountain Dew chugging, part of that. The Kaminoans just leaned into the trailer park part of Jango Fett hard when designing Tech, because no one can fix cars while shooting a gun and yelling at his crazy brothers like a redneck (more on that below). 

Hell, all of the Bad Batch are different brands of Florida Man:

Grizzled long haired tan guy with skull tattoo, obsessed with tracking, knife fighting, and hiding from normal society? Hunter.

Bald tanned dude with weird scars who loves blowing shit up and screaming for no reason? Wrecker

Pale, freaked out man who was kept in a cult’s closet for years? Echo 

Creepy, old, Second Amendment loving white guy with a gun themed tattoo who can’t seem to die? Crosshair 

Maladjusted orphan left behind at a bar by her inexperienced caretakers and almost drowns in the ocean? Omega 

His love of vehicles: We never see Tech whip out a manual to fix anything. The man says it’s because he has an exceptional mind, but that’s edging dangerously close to “Ah don’t need no schoolin’, hoss, I can fix any Ford!”.  Doug thinks it’s just because Tech loves playing with car parts, which is some grade A, hillbilly tomfoolery. And what is more redneck than some white guy ripping apart a vehicle in the dirt while the rest of his family bitches at each other in the heat? It happened right here in Season 2 (this exact scenario has played out many-a-time in Pensacola, trust me). All they need is some Lynyrd Skynyrd blasting in the background to make the picture complete. 

His clothing color scheme: “Oh, no!” you wail. “He just changed his colors to reflect Mandalorian heritage!” 

WRONG. 

Tech’s redneckery is blatant here, because his colors switch from 

Hot Topic goth to…UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA. 

“We’re loyal to each other,” says Hunter. And by that, he means the Gators, beloved of many an NCAA following redneck in the Sunshine State and beyond. Orange and Blue, indeed.

Notice how we first see him in these colors, is while he’s parked his stolen work vehicle on a beach while his brothers are busy being chased by huge-ass crabs as their sister is quietly fishing?! 

This is PEAK FLORIDA MAN. 

Tech was probably trying to get ESPN+ to work on the Marauder, because the Devil works hard, but the SEC works harder during football season. I wonder if he has a tattoo of Tim Tebow on his buttcheek.

His home is his car: Tech, as well as his unemployed brothers and underaged sister who the cops are looking for (how trashy is THAT sentence), live in the Havoc Marauder now that their home was destroyed in a fire fight with the government. 

("Jesus Christ, this argument just writes itself now, don’t it," -Doug) 

This attack shuttle, for all intents and purposes, is a stolen work truck that they live in. It’s filled with posters of guns, as well as other weapons and explosives, and has all the comfort of a Jacksonville gas station at 2 AM. All you need is some cigarette burns on the fender and some empty take out bags from Bojangles and it might as well be parked down by the river in Suwannee County. Just Florida redneckery. Speaking of which….

He loves guns and explosions: Won’t go into detail, but the man knows how to use multiple pistols, rifles, and different tactile maneuvers with glee. Tech’s only notable complaint regarding explosions is making sure Wrecker’s new fancy boom-booms aren’t parked next to his bunk. And the look of calm joy when his sister tells his brother ‘Do some damage, Wrecker!’ as Tech pulls a Bo Duke and flings his vehicle across a locked up work site, while his deranged brother giggles and fires some guns at a government-owned power plant from the back seat. PURE. UNADULTERATED. REDNECK. 

He’s a racer: It is a fact (with peer reviewed research) that rednecks really, really love them some racing. NASCAR, motocross, BMX, you name it. And if you’ve seen ‘Faster’, well, that’s all you need to know about the man. 

He has no fear of large animals: We’ve never seen him hunt, but Tech knows how to distract massive amounts of nasty animals using light, and the first response to seeing a terrifying monster isn't running away screaming, but whispering ‘FASCINATING’., before, ya know, firing a gun at it. It’s one step away from ‘IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR US’. You KNOW that man would be sponsoring gator wrasslin' contests if he could.

His actions towards His family: This is where Tech truly differentiates himself from the typical ‘geek’ character and leans hard into King of the Hill territory. Whereas a normal nerd character might nag and panic when his sister falls down a hole while drilling for explosives in a cave (dear God Doug, how much more redneck examples can you keep pointing out, I’m exhausted), Tech merely YEETS HIMSELF down into the abyss. Or when his brother picks a fight in the mess hall? Does Tech run away, or just start punching people like it's past closing time in the Applebee's parking lot in Daytona and the Dolphins lost? And let's not discuss the season finale :(. Rednecks are some loyal folks, family first, and that’s our man’s right there. 

There you have it, says Doug. Tech isn’t lighter because he’s better than the regs. The opposite.

You can not be a deranged, adrenaline filled, sassy, goggled weirdo flying throughout space and blowing shit up and not be pale AF with twiggy legs and a receding hairline that’s edging towards Hunter S. Thompson level, born out of America's Sunshine state while a hurricane chases you out.

::turns up ZZ Top::

[pickledpascal]

New Perspective

Chapter Seven: I'm Not Your Friend (Damn)

Warnings: jarpad being a bitch again, transphobia, alcohol, smut, oral sex, could be seen as drunk sex?? not really tho

Word Count: 3.4k

New Perspective Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

@ deanswiftie: no but why IS jensen in charlotte… tf??

Reply to @ deanswiftie by @ lesbiandean: yeah i don’t think there’s any cons unless he’s there for filming?

Reply to @ deanswiftie by @ pickledpascal: have we considered the possibility he’s getting ass

Reply to @ pickledpascal by @ deanswifite: AVERY HUH??

Avery designated Friday as the night they'd go out. She got dressed up in a loose navy sweater, a long black skirt paired with white socks and matching navy loafers. It seemed she had a shoe for every occasion. So did Jensen. Except he didn't have full access to his closet. He wore a simple leather jacket that had silver accents around the sleeve and down the front—underneath was a black long-sleeved shirt—a pair of dark-washed jeans, and some deep brown boots. Jensen didn't know exactly where they were going, just that it was a bar, so he decided to dress accordingly. 

Jensen blew on his recently black-painted nails. Avery was bored earlier since she didn’t have anything to do so she decided it would be fun to treat Jensen to a bit of a spa day. She painted his nails, they did a face mask together, and he watched her do her eyeliner for the night. It made his chest swell.

Avery whistled when she saw Jensen in his outfit. "Hope you're ready for a million horny college kids trying to flirt with you." She joked. Though it was likely going to happen. 

Jensen wrapped an arm around Avery's waist, bringing her close. "I know how to let people down. Especially considering my beautiful girlfriend is gonna be with me." He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he heard a clinging of keys. 

The pair made their way outside the house to the driveway that housed Avery's car. A 1965 Ford Mustang convertible with a soft top and white-rimmed wheels in electric blue. How the hell had he not noticed it before? It was a beauty of a car. He looked up at Avery bewilderment in his eyes. The more time he spent with Avery, the more she seemed less human and more human at the same time.

"I got it for a cheap price. Got my brother to fix it up for me." Avery explained as they got in. She had a feeling Jensen was a bit confused as to why someone like her would have such an old car. "It rides like a brand new car." 

The inside had white upholstery with matching electric blue stitching and a modern-looking radio in the middle, an outlet to use the aux. The Mustang logo was stitched onto a part of the dash. The gear stick was made with bright red leather and had a few hair ties around it. Funnily enough, the rearview mirror had a pair of black fuzzy dice hanging from it. Jensen almost felt transported back to the '60s. 

"Your brother?" Jensen asked as Avery started up the car with a roar. He knew she had other family besides just her parents but she never really talked about them. 

Avery bit the inside of her cheek, hair blowing from the wind as she drove but the wall of glass in front of them shielded her from most of it. "Yeah. He's the only family member I keep in contact with. He lives up in Charlotte though. Corporate job. But one of his favorite pastimes is fixing up cars, selling them. He wants to be the next Jay Leno or something, I swear." She chuckled. 

Jensen smiled softly. He wondered if he'd ever meet her brother. Being the only family member she liked had to mean something. Or maybe her brother was like a friend she'd text hello to whenever he crossed her mind and that was it. He looked outside at the city of Columbia at night. It felt more akin to a real city at night. With the twinkling lights of high-up buildings and hoards of people walking around downtown.

Avery parked on the side of the street and locked the car as she and Jensen got out. She put her keys in her bag before she intertwined her hand with Jensen's to lead him into the bar.

It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of bar like most college bars were except it felt less juvenile. Like it was tailored more towards the upperclassmen and not Freshmen who just wanted to get drunk every night of the week. A wall of dollar bills was behind the bar with little notes written in sharpie or pen, there was a small dance floor surrounded by tables, and speakers on the walls playing whatever pop music was on the radio. 

Avery led Jensen to the bar top and sat down. "Hey, Andrés." She greeted one of the bartenders with familiar eyes. 

"Hey, babe." After a little while, Jensen grasped that saying 'babe' was common among friends of Avery's age. "Why you here when you clearly got a tall drink of water?" They glanced at Jensen with a flirtatious—but not lustfully—charged look. 

Avery shook her head. "It's his first time in Columbia. Didn't want to only show him my house." 

"If I were you, I'd keep him there." Andrés laughed. "What're you drinking?" He turned to Jensen.

Jensen blinked at the question, simply enjoying their interactions. "I'll take a rum and coke for now." The response was in a bit of a panic but he did genuinely like rum and coke. Plus it's been a little while since he had some sort of cocktail, he's been drinking just beer for months.

Avery hummed when Andrés got to making their drinks. He already knew her order. A gin and tonic with a splash or two of grenadine to give the drink some semblance of flavor besides just alcohol. Whether or not she came here for the alcohol was a mystery to Jensen. She said she wasn't much of a drinker, even during weekends or after a big exam. Maybe she just wanted to come to see a friend. 

"You come here often?" Jensen asked, cursing at himself at how corny that line was. But he wanted to know.

Avery pursed her lips, trying her best not to smile. It was corny. That's what made it funny. "Once a month or so, just to see some friends," She answered honestly. "Or to pick up some friends." Jensen gave her a questioning look. "I do have other friends outside my roommates." She teased softly. "He's just busy being in the nursing school which doesn't give him a lot of time to hang out. Unless it's one AM and bars are open." 

Jensen chuckled softly. He knew Avery had more friends than he'd met but her and her roommates seemed so close that he nearly forgot. There was a whole population of college kids and she just so happened to know some of them. "Does he go on a bender a lot?" He asked as Andrés handed them their drinks before he went to attend to some other patrons.

"Nah. Only when school really gets to him." Avery took a sip of her drink and sighed contentedly. 

Jensen's finger tapped against his glass before he took a sip from his drink. His phone went off and he glanced at Avery apologetically as he answered it without checking the caller ID. "Yello?" He hummed, causing Avery to let out a laugh. He answered the phone like a middle-aged man but what else could she expect? He was one. 

"Hey, Jay." Jared's voice filtered through to Jensen's ear. Avery watched as Jensen's face hardened. He hadn't talked to Jared since ChiCon and he wasn't too keen on having another conversation with him. "How've you been?" 

Jensen humored him. "Fine." But not too much. 

"Look," Jared sighed. "People are gonna know soon. They know where you are. Or have a general idea. I'd let her go now." 

Jensen narrowed his eyes. What the hell was he insinuating? "Know what, Jared?" 

"They're bound to find out Avery's trans. They're gonna speculate. Make up lies." Jared explained as if he was just looking out for his friend. It was true a lot of fans found Avery's Instagram but she didn't have anything in particular about her being trans, it was mostly just pictures of her and friends with a few mentions of being queer but that was the extent of it. "I know you're not gay but who knows? Fans might think so." 

Jensen had to close his eyes to digest his shock. And here he thought he might have a chance of having a normal conversation. That hope died. "I can confidently say I don't fucking care if people think I take it up the ass. Some of them already do. And so what if I like girl dick? There's a clear difference. Because she's a fucking girl." Avery slapped a hand over her mouth from surprise. She had to suppress her laugh. 

"That doesn't matter here—" Jared started.

"Yes it does." Jensen sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. Talking with Jared was aging sometimes. "Fans do talk but I think a majority of them want me to be happy. Which I thought you wanted too. Not so sure anymore." He admitted softly. Jared had been his best friend for years and it felt bittersweet that he was on the verge of breaking that. "You want me to be happy on your terms. A normal, "real" girl. Sorry to say it, bud, but Avery is a real girl just with extra parts." He hung up and shot the rest of his cocktail down his throat. Strangely, it was the carbonation of the coke that burned the most. 

Avery watched Jensen, sliding her hand over his on the bar top. "You don't need to fuck up your life just for me, y'know?" She said seriously. 

Jensen shook his head at Avery and tried to joke, "Wait 'til you meet my family then we'll see if I actually fuck up my life." Avery's face went serious. He realized the joke was in bad taste. "Sorry." He coughed, collecting himself. "I didn't mean that. If they don't like you just for who you are, they weren't meant to be in my life anyway. I don't care who might talk shit about me at Thanksgiving dinner." 

Avery gave him a look of doubt. Family was important to a lot of people and she assumed Jensen was the same.

Feeling a surge of confidence likely from the alcohol, Jensen pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered in her ear, "Do you want me to show you just how serious I am?" 

"What…" Avery rasped as the realization hit her. "I–" She wanted Jensen so badly and he returned the feeling but there was a difference in wanting to be intimate and actually doing the act. She feared that would change for Jensen. "Let's go home."

Jensen glanced around the bar and spotted a few college kids watching them. With their phones out. He cupped Avery's cheek and kissed her. Her lips tasted like gin with some sweetness of the grenadine. He liked it. Jensen deepened the kiss, feeling drunker off her than his drink. Avery let out a noise of surprise, bracing herself with a hand on his thigh. 

Avery pulled away slightly, suddenly feeling very aware they were in public. "Jensen…" She whispered as she admired the redness of his lips and the way his eyes darkened at the sound of her voice. "Home." She reminded him softly.

Jensen nodded as he stood, taking out his wallet to place a few twenties on the counter. Avery glanced from the cash to Jensen and had to reboot her brain to remember that she was in love with a rich man. Maybe Elena's comment about him being akin to a sugar daddy was true. Avery followed after Jensen, taking a glance at Andrés just to see him wink from behind the bar. 

The drive back home was tense. Jensen's heart was beating fast, his face felt hot even though the wind was blowing around him. But he strangely felt calm. On the other hand, Avery was incredibly nervous. It's been a while since she'd been with anyone intimately. She wasn't scared. Well. Maybe a little bit. 

As soon as Avery opened the door to the house, Jensen started to press kisses to her neck. He snuck his hand underneath Avery's sweater as she let out a sigh, guiding them into her room before they went any further. She sat down on the bed, pushing off her shoes and socks as Jensen shouldered off his jacket and shirt. Avery looked up at him and shamelessly appreciated his body.

"Your turn." Jensen whispered with a light smirk, lifting Avery's top from her chest. She let him. He ran a hand down her bare side, taking in the sight of her in a bra and the soft muscle on her torso. "You're beautiful." He leaned forward to press kisses to her jaw, grazing her skin with his teeth. 

Avery breathed. "Jensen… What…" She didn't want to ruin the mood by asking what he planned on doing. As much as Jensen expressed he was fine with being the bottom and what came with being the bottom, Avery still had her doubts.

Jensen had a feeling she'd feel that way. He lowered himself between Avery's legs, getting on his knees. He ran a hand up her thigh to grab the elastic band of her skirt and pulled it down her legs. "I'm gonna suck your dick." He said as if it was his mission to. 

Avery swallowed thickly, her face felt hot. Jensen was between her legs and stared at her like he was going to consume her. In a way, he was. "Okay." Her breath was soft. Accepting. He was so determined Avery's heart started to pound in her chest. She widened her legs, giving Jensen more space. 

At the admission, Jensen slipped his fingers under Avery's plain black underwear as he buried his face in her solid stomach and pressed a few kisses to her sternum. A breathy laugh left her lips. So she was ticklish there? He pulled her underwear down and threw it off to the side so her bottom half was completely bare. Jensen took in the sight of her dick then glanced up at Avery who was watching for his reaction. 

Jensen kept eye contact with her as he wrapped a hand around Avery's dick and began to stroke it slowly. After eliciting a whine from her lips is when Jensen gave her an experimental lick. Avery ran a hand through his hair, brushing a few stray strands away from his face. 

One would think Jensen was put off by handling a dick that wasn't his own but he truly didn't care that much. He kind of liked it. As long as it was Avery. What she was packing didn't matter. 

After a few more small licks and kisses, Jensen took her in his mouth. The weight was strange but warm. He liked it. Especially the way Avery let out another light whimper and admired the way his lips wrapped around her cock. "Honey…" She sighed. "You look good like this." Something in her had to say it.

Jensen hummed, sending shivers down Avery's spine. After simply having her in his mouth, Jensen started to move his head. The eye contact was starting to get to Avery. She bunched her sheets in one hand while the other tangled in Jensen's hair. He liked that too. The sight of her losing more and more patience, looking wrecked and hot. But she never pushed. Just let Jensen work. 

He swallowed Avery down to the base of her dick, swirling his tongue. Jensen was suddenly very glad he didn't have a gag reflex. 

"Fuck." Avery whined, griping Jensen's hair harder. "Good boy." A slip of her tongue.

Jensen nearly choked, surprised that he liked being called that. But then again past him would probably be far more surprised he was sucking a girl's cock. With a new wave of arousal, Jensen bobbed his head faster. 

"You liked that, huh?" Avery moaned softly. She didn't expect an answer given his mouth was a little busy. She swallowed down a whine as she drew in a sharp breath. "Ah… I-I think I'm close." 

Jensen felt excited. Almost giddy. He let go of Avery's dick from his mouth with a light pop and placed a soft kiss on the tip. His lips were swollen and glistening with his own saliva. Avery's fingers twitched at the sight. He stroked her faster, opening his mouth to stick out his tongue. Jensen wanted to taste her cum and perhaps get a little on his face.

Avery could tell what he wanted and imagined what he'd look like for a second. Her brain stopped at the stimulation between Jensen stroking her dick and the images in her mind. "God, fuck–" Her eyebrows furrowed as her face contorted into pleasure. "Faster, please." 

Jensen complied, planting his tongue on her shaft. Seemingly, that was all it took for Avery to orgasm. Like he wanted, Jensen caught some cum in his mouth while some dripped from his face. She tasted a bit salty but mostly sweet. He pressed his tongue against her slit to lick up every last drop then pressed a few kisses to her shaft. He didn't miss the satisfied look Avery gave him. 

"You look…" Avery had to catch her breath as she let go of his hair and wiped a few drops off the side of his cheek and some in his beard. "Absolutely fucked."

Jensen's tongue peeked from between his teeth, resting his head against Avery's thigh. He liked the way her chest rose and fell. "I think I am." He mumbled. He was still pretty hard but his brain was fried. He wasn't sure if he'd be conscious if they did decide to do anything else that night.

Avery tilted his chin upward. "We need to get you cleaned up." She whispered. She wanted to see Jensen like this all the time. Perhaps that was a little selfish to think knowing the sight was exclusive to her. 

Jensen licked his lips, catching a drop on his tongue. "That sounds like a good idea." He moved to sit on the bed as Avery found and pulled up her underwear. He appreciated the curve of her ass as she bent down. 

"I'm gonna grab a hand towel." Avery hummed softly. 

Jensen watched her leave and unbuttoned his jeans to add them to his pile of clothes. He hadn't slept next to Avery in just her lingerie before. He wondered how he'd handle the skin-to-skin contact. Soon, Avery came back with a damp rag and gently wiped his face. 

"There." Avery smiled softly. Her heart swelled with love. She couldn't believe what just happened. Jensen was good at head. She dropped the rag in with her laundry. "Out of curiosity… where did you learn how to—"

"Suck dick?" Jensen asked with amused eyes. "Dunno. Sometimes things just come naturally to me." He shrugged. "Especially with the way you sounded… I knew I was doing something right." 

Avery and Jensen laid in bed, legs tangled together. "You really are something." Avery couldn't believe just how loving—giving—he was. Her mind slipped back to their conversation a few nights ago. She wondered how much he could receive too. 

Jensen nuzzled his face into Avery's neck. He knew she liked the feel of his beard against her skin and he liked the way she would cradle the back of his head when he fit his face between her neck and shoulder. "What can I say? You bring out the best in me." He said it teasingly but he meant every word. 

Avery wrapped her arms around Jensen's waist and let out a happy sigh. She didn't want him to leave. She liked being with him. She liked the way he interacted with her friends. She liked meeting his friends. It was all so perfect. A wash of melancholy overtook her. But then there was a wave of excitement.

Halloween was tomorrow. And Avery and Jensen were going as Barbie and Ken.

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taglist: @nancymcl

taglist form here !!!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Vampire Chris and jake get stranded in the middle of nowhere one night. Maybe a car crash or something. As they walk back the sun starts to rise.

CW: Car crash, bruising, seatbelt burn, vampire whumpee, caretaker turned whumpee

The moment of the crash is gone.

He opens his eyes to the aftermath.

Jake blinks, the world spinning, and his head drops back against the headrest of the driver's seat. The world is still lurching, sickeningly, in circles around him. Something is ticking, the engine maybe, slowly cooling down and shit, at least it's not on fire.

The air bag has a smear of terrible vibrant red against its pillowy white as it slowly deflates, and all he can do is stare at it until he realizes the blood must be his own.

One hand comes up to touch at his forehead, and his fingers come away wet and red, too. What he'd thought was sweat is a head wound, bleeding down one side, tickling his cheekbone and jaw. It stings, a little.

The pain seems distant, somehow, like it's being held at arm's length. As if he's looking at his pain from a distance further than he can close.

"Ch-... Chris, you okay, buddy?" He turns, and the passenger seat is empty. The air bag deployed on that side, but there's no blood.

The door is standing open, dome light still on. It takes a long few moments of staring before he can understand that the door is open because Chris forced it open, closed his hands on the metal and squeezed until it bent beneath his strength and let him out.

Jake's body aches as he shifts forwards, fumbling to unbuckle his seatbelt. All the pain is filtering into his senses, piece by piece as if he can only understand a wound once he sees it.

He can't remember the crash.

They were at a four-way stop, listening to some of the terrible pop music Chris loves about the modern world, and Jake had pulled through. They were laughing at some lyric that Jake had had to explain, that had made the little vampire boy flush a little at the definition.

Then there were headlights blinding him, overtaking everything. Chris had yelled something and Jake had yelled something and then-

The moment is gone.

So is the entire back half of his car.

He turns around with a hiss to stare right out a giant gaping hole where his backseat should be into the cool, clear night.

Parts of his car are strewn haphazardly across the road and the grassy ditch he's come to a stop in. As he looks, he can see the frame of a door, crumbled metal that must be his trunk, a tire. Another tire. The bumper on the ground. Glass and metal everywhere.

The stop signs at the fourway are all standing totally untouched, except for one bent at a hard angle, leaning like a man fighting a strong wind.

The sweater he'd been wearing when he got in the car - removed and tossed carelessly in the backseat to pick up later - is hanging off the bent stop sign.

It's fucking spotlessly clean still.

He blinks.

Blinks some more.

What the fuck?

He'd driven Chris up into the hills to go star-gazing, making the most of Chris's bubbly energy that only comes out at night and his classes being canceled tomorrow because of some issue with the campus water supply. This is countryside up here, with houses miles and miles apart. Remnants of old orchards and homesteads, still kept by the descendants of the men and women who traveled out here. Nobody drives out this way this late. It could be morning before someone finds him.

His phone. He can call for help.

Jake looks around, but his phone is nowhere to be seen. He digs around the footwell, what he can touch of it, and there's nothing. Nothing nothing nothing.

His windshield is shattered, open to the outside, and he wonders if his phone flew out of it. It was on the dash, wasn't it? On Chris's side...

Shit.

It could be anywhere in the grass, and he's a fucking moron who keeps his phone on silent or vibrate 24 hours a day. He'll never hear it out here.

First things first, then.

He settles for trying to open his door.

It's been crunched, just a little. Enough that it won't swing out, and he has to throw his shoulder against it, grunting in pain, again and again until finally it nudges just enough for him to fall onto shattered tiny squares of safety glass on the ground. A water bottle is lying there. It's Dasani.

He hates Dasani water, but it'd been free at the gas station they'd stopped at if he bought a bag of chips, so...

Oh, right. His car is full of fucking gasoline.

He groans, scrambling away from the vehicle, trying to remember what a safe distance will be if his car catches on fire or fucking explodes in the middle of the night. At least if it explodes it'll get someone's attention, right?

Shit, he's going to throw up.

Jake lays there, waiting for his stomach to settle, and then crawls again. He makes it up to the road, to the rough asphalt and the gravel that lines the side. The little pebbles sting his palms, rub dirt and dust into the cuts, but he ignores it.

He makes it to the road, twenty feet or so from his car, and then... then he just lays down.

"Chris..." He can barely think. Where has the little vampire gone? Why isn't he here, creeping out of the treeline to ask if Jake's all right? Did he run? Maybe he has Jake's phone. Maybe there was no signal and he's gone to try and find some, to make a call.

Maybe...

Fuck, it hurts to think.

Even just taking a deep breath hurts - something's wrong with his ribs. Bruised or broken. When he pulls his shirt up, he can see the seatbelt burn starting to deepen in color, a diagonal stripe from shoulder to hip written in bright red darkening to burgundy bruising, soon to turn purple and black. If he hadn't been wearing a heavy shirt it'd have torn his skin open. One side of his neck is rubbed raw, he can tell when he touches it and has to pull his fingers away at the spike of pain.

There are spots of dark on his pale shirt, blood seeping through or dripping from his forehead.

But, shit. It could be worse. Looking at the back half of his car, it seems like a goddamn miracle that it isn't.

Jake pulls his legs under him and tries to stand up.

His right leg just won't fucking do it.

Rather than take his weight, it buckles with a spike of pain so bad Jake cries out and collapses back onto the road.

As if it were a dam breaking, all the adrenaline holding off the worst of the pain seems to wear away at once.

Everything hurts, suddenly, a sickening wash of pain breaking against him like he's nothing but a shell to be worn to sand. He aches when he breathes, when he doesn't. A cough makes him whimper as his ribs creak and crack. His head throbs, his hands sting, his leg is swelling even as he looks at it, a broken bone. Definitely a broken bone.

"Jesus Christ," He groans, rolling onto his side, his face pressing into gravel and safety glass.

Nat won't notice they're not home until morning.

No one's going to know he's out here until after sunrise, until he's not up to get ready for class and Chris isn't curled up in the closet to sleep in his nest of blankets and pillows. No one's going to know what happened, and where the everloving fuck did his phone go?

Time passes. He doesn't know how much.

Maybe Chris figured they can't protect him and took the fuck off. Maybe he's going to find somewhere new to crash, some new people to care for him. Maybe he's hunting.

Who the fuck knows?

He comes and goes, in and out of consciousness.

He can't stand, and sort of scooting and crawling around does nothing to help him figure out where his cell phone has gone. No one else drives by on this mostly-abandoned country road, and it was a stroke of seriously bad luck the asshole who hit them and ran was there at all.

Asshole was probably drunk, driving back from the bar, trying to use the backroads to avoid the goddamn cops.

Bad. Fucking. Luck.

Jake wonders if the asshole will even remember hitting his car in the morning, or if he'll wake up and discover the front of his vehicle all fucked up and have no idea how it happened.

He thinks he might pass clean out for a while.

That can't be good.

His head hurts worse when he wakes up.

He raises his head slowly at the sound of a distant rumble, an ancient truck engine coming closer. It takes more effort than he ever imagined just to get himself up to sitting, ready to wave down whoever it is - whatever fucking angel is on this road at what has to be 3 or 4 in the morning by now.

"Please," He whispers, dry lips scraping against each other. "Please, please don't run m'over... please..."

Headlights wash over the scene of the crash, fading everything to nearly black-and-white. Jake raises a hand to shield his eyes, blinking rapidly, as the blue-and-white Ford comes to an idling stop.

A door swings open with a creak and then slams shut again, boots crunching on the glass and debris on the road. Jake raises his eyes to see an old man in worn jeans and a grayish t-shirt staring down at him. "Well, I'll be damned," The man says, his voice low, a little rough around the edges. His hair's dark, but speckled with silver that's visible even in the night air. "You all right, son?"

Jake slowly looks back at his wrecked, ruined car, then back up at the man. "I'm pretty clearly not," He answers, then winces at his rudeness. "Sorry. I mean... no."

"That's all right. We all of us get a little more honest when we're bleeding from the skull. I'm gonna bet you aren't a natural brunette and I'm looking at a big old ton of blood there. What happened?"

"Guy ran the stop sign, hit me... drove off."

"Well, damn. What're you doin' up this way this late at night?"

"Would you... y'believe me if I said... star-gazin'?"

The man chuckles, but it's a low sound, and he moves closer. He pulls a heavy old cell phone out of his pocket - one of those goddamn flip phones that never dies or gets destroyed. It's like Captain Fucking America. Jake has to hold back a half-hysterical laugh.

"Hm, I might. It happens from time to time. Y'didn't come with a young lady, did you?" The man looks over the scene of the crash, searching for more people.

"No, no... just... jus'... I'm just here." He thinks of Chris, the open passenger door, the total lack of a vampire nearby. Is he hiding in the woods? If he's seen, or found out, he'll be hauled back off to be locked up somewhere, milked for venom for pharmaceutical drugs, treated like an animal. They can't admit he was here, he can't be seen. He must be hiding.

That's it.

Chris must just be hiding...

"Please, man, I-I can't find my phone to call for help-"

"I got you, son. I'll make the call. Likely your phone's just buried in the grass somewhere, we'll figure it out. You stay put right where you are, you don't want to move around and make any of it worse."

"Yes, sir." Jake stays where he is while the old man makes the call to 911, feeding him details when he asks, staring off into space when he doesn't.

They can pick Chris up when he and Nat come to get his stuff from the wreck tomorrow. They'll get him then. It'll be fine.

It'll be fine.

The old man hangs up and heads back to his truck, pulling out a battered old first aid kit. "You're lucky I believe in ghosts, you know."

"What? Why? Am I dead?" Jake looks down at his hands. They're scratched and bleeding, and he's pretty sure dead people don't bleed like that.

"No, son, no. But I wouldn't be out here if I didn't."

Jake blinks. "I... I don't follow."

"Well, had a little ghost show up at my bedroom window and refuse to shut up until I drove out here. Redheaded boy. Kept calling for a medic. Felt like I was back in the war for a minute before I realized it was him."

"Which... which war?"

The man fixes him with a stare as he crouches, old knees cracking as he does, in front of Jake. He opens the box and takes out some gauze and adhesive, antibiotic cream, something else Jake doesn't recognize. "You need medics in every kind of war there is, son. It doesn't matter which one. I've fought in two. But this boy called for a medic like he's seen the need for 'em before and didn't have time to save someone. Some kind of old ghost walkin' these roads saw you and made sure I knew."

Jake exhales, almost a laugh, and feels tears burn hot in his eyes. He realizes he's going to cry from sheer relief and exhaustion and pain, and he's not sure he can stop.

A ghost in the window means...

Chris left and ran for help.

"Thank you," he whispers, and he's not really talking to the old man at all.

-

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

[jacky-rubou]

You wanna write a little Drabble about Griffin Ford from Beast of Gravity Falls? ;) I’d love to see what you can come up with^^

Ford was stretched out under a tree near his lab, his claws digging into the grass languidly. The sun sure felt nice on his large body. Though it would feel better if he wasn't a giant owl griffin. He always missed his human body. This one was really cumbersome, especially those darn wings. Good thing he had Stanley trying to help him turn back. Ford eventually dozed off to the sounds of birds chirping and the wind rustling the trees.

The sound of something being dragged through the grass woke Ford up a few hours later. He peered over with his hyper rotating neck to see Stanley with a large carpet hefted over his shoulder. Stan dropped it on the grass and rolled it out. Ford got up and sauntered over in curiosity. It was a shag carpet, blue all over except for some strange yellow markings. Ford tilted his head, he didn't remember this carpet. Must have bought it somewhere and just forgot about it.

"Was doing some cleaning, and I found this tacky carpet in one of the old closets." Stan panted, clearly exhausted from dragging it out here, "Thought I'd bring it to you to see if you'd want to keep it before I sell it. It's ugly."

Ford tapped it with a large paw. Oh, that felt nice. Without warning, he laid down on it with a loud thump, and rubbed himself all over it, sorta like a cat. He liked this carpet. Stan only stared at him in bewilderment as the owl griffin he called his brother played on the carpet. Guess he's keeping it. Ford was like that for several minutes.

"Uh, if you'll excuse me," Stan approached Ford warily, "I need to take this carpet back to the house, so if you would be so kind as to get off, that would be great."

Ford felt Stan touch his wing and everything exploded into white. The two flung away from each other violently. Ford laid on the ground for what felt like forever. Oh. Ow. Everything hurt. Ford sat up and rubbed his head with his hand once the dust settled.

Wait. Hand?

Ford looked down and saw his hand. He was human again? But it wasn't right. This hand was five fingered. That carpet... did it make them switch bodies? Ford felt tiny and weak as a human, even though he knew Stanley was a pretty strong guy. Oh, is Stanley alright? Ford saw him on the other side of the clearing, panicking. Ford haphazardly got to his feet and immediately fell forwards onto the ground, not used to standing on two legs in a long time.

Ford resorted to crawling, he didn't want to hurt Stan's body with his attempts to walk properly. He eventually reached the owl griffin and stared in awe for several seconds. Dang he was very big, no wonder Stan was scared when he first saw him. Stan shrieked at Ford as if he was trying to say something to him, then put his paws on his beak.

"It's okay, Stan... I know it's scary." Ford hadn't been able to talk for so long, he absolutely relished the ability to actually communicate, even though it was through Stan's voice, "Just calm down, I can fix this.... Wait, I could fix everything! I could fix the machine! I could change myself back! If you'll let me borrow your body for a little while of course."

Stan had calmed down by then, and by his awkward body language seemed a little excited by the idea, though Ford didn't want to subject Stan to owl griffin for too long. He knew how much a pain it was to live like that, but this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to waste.

Ford slowly got to his feet and, after acclimating himself to walking again, made his way to the basement. He gathered the scattered papers and sorted them. Following his own directions, he got to work fixing the machine to work in reverse.

It took all day and all night, but finally, he fixed it. He carried it outside and, with an extension cord, plugged it in right next to Stan. He primed it, Stan looking all excited. It would be easier to change him back, then switch bodies again on the carpet. Ford activated the machine and it gave off a blinding light for several seconds. When it was done, Ford looked over to see Stan in Ford's body. His human body. Ford excitedly pulled him over to the carpet and collected charge. Ford tapped Stan's hand and everything went white once again.

..................................................................................

"Ford! Wake up, ya bird brain!"

Ford opened his eyes and looked down at himself. But what he saw made him shriek and claw the ground despairingly. Changing back was only a dream. Only a dream. Of course. He should've known. Ford never had such a switching carpet before being cursed with this stupid form. He slapped the nearest tree with his enormous clawed paws, splintering the trunk and causing it to fall into the forest.

"Whoa, calm down, Sixer!" Stan held his hands up and backed up a bit, not wanting to get in the way of Ford's frustration. Ford looked at Stan in what could only be interpreted as a saddened look, then collapsed to the ground, heaving breaths that could be considered crying if he had the ability to cry.

"You're missing your body, aren't you?" Stan gently touched Ford on the wing, and Ford gingerly leaned into his touch, giving a sad nod, "It'll be alright, Ford. I'm trying my best to help you get it back. You'll be back to normal quicker than you think!"

Ford appreciated his optimism, even though he found it difficult to believe. Why'd that dream have to feel so real? He felt so close to a cure, only for it to be taken from him at the last second. It was infuriating. At least he had Stanley doing everything he could to save him no matter how long it took.

Stan hugged Ford around his large neck, tears streaming down his face. Ford put a paw on Stan's back as gently as he could in reciprocation, keeping his claws as far away as possible. Ford felt warmth inside his chest at Stan's kindness. Being stuck as an owl griffin wasn't as bad when he had his twin by his side. All Ford wished past getting a cure was to never get a deceiving dream like that again.

[nikxation]

A Close Encounter

Summary:

All Stan knows is that, if you see huge red eyes staring at you from the brush, look away, turn around, and run as fast if you can, assuming it’s not already too late.

So, when he finds himself face to face with a creature easily three times his size with glowing red eyes, he realizes he may be in one of those “too late” kinds of situations.

Notes:

Written for @buggy-mars for the 2020 Secret Santa exchange! You wanted mullet Stan angst, so here ya go! Hope you enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

Find it here on AO3.

Beware of glowing red eyes in the woods.

It’s one of the first things Stan learns when he starts making his presence more known around the small town of Gravity Falls, though he learns it mostly through indirect means (because while Ford had been here for over a decade, Stan has barely been here a month, and asking questions might draw a certain amount of suspicion and scrutiny that he can’t afford).

Most people would call it eavesdropping, but he likes to think of it as “directed listening” instead.

It’s hushed, frightened whispers in the back booth of the diner between two buff-looking guys holding steaming cups of coffee in shaking hands.

It’s the short exchange of words between two woodsmen as they pass each other in the street, one warning the other away from a certain area of the forest for the day.

It’s a woman sending her kids to go play and warning them to be careful even as they roll their eyes and run off, young and invincible against the dangers of the world.

Of all the things he’s heard, the red eyes seem to be the thing that everyone, without exception, knows to steer clear of at all costs.

Something about visions of nightmares or poisonous quills or just pure, unadulterated terror, he’s not sure. They don’t talk about it in as many words, circling the topic like two boxers in the ring, sizing one another up, neither willing to make the first move, to say the wrong thing, to admit too much. They dance around it, never getting close enough to give him any solid answers before jumping to another subject altogether.

All he knows is that, if you see huge red eyes staring at you from the brush, look away, turn around, and run as fast if you can, assuming it’s not already too late.

So, when he finds himself face to face with a creature easily three times his size with glowing red eyes, he realizes he may be in one of those “too late” kinds of situations.

~ ~ ~

The sleet is coming down hard as Stan trudges through the melting snow, shovel in one hand and worn map in the other as he aims towards another area of the woods that he hasn’t already scribbled out in pencil. The sun is finding its way down towards the treeline, which means he doesn’t have a lot of time today before it gets too dark to be able to effectively hunt for the other journals. Plus, he has more tours to prep for tomorrow, so he’ll have to make sure he leaves himself enough time to get everything set up again for that. But he plans to take advantage of whatever dying rays of sunlight he can.

He feels dirty, zipped up tight in one of Ford’s jackets that fits him a little too tight in the arms, one he found in some back closet when he finally started going through the man’s things. But there’s only so much he can do in a worn-out hoodie in this weather, and he has more important things to worry about than how wrong it feels to be wearing his missing (not dead) brother’s clothes.

At least his hair is keeping his neck warm, so this god-awful hairstyle is finally good for something other than looking terrible.

He looks down at the map again, glancing back up to see if he can find some kind of marker he should have left for himself to know where he left off, whether it be a slash in some tree bark or a pile of rocks in the snow. Based on the map, he should be getting close to something, but at this rate, the trees are starting to thin out as he makes his way into more rocky and mountainous terrain, so he can’t quite remember what he should be looking for.

A glance back down at the map, and he realizes that the sleet has begun to smear the ink and graphite on the page. He curses under his breath, shoves it into his pocket, and looks around frantically, spotting a shadow in a rocky face that might just be a cave that he can duck into for a moment, long enough to get out of the wet cold for a moment and reorient himself to his surroundings.

He was right in assuming it was a cave, finding himself in a small dark cavern that doesn’t seem to go more than a few yards deep and a few feet above his head. He doesn’t bother getting out his flashlight to check that assumption; at the mouth of the cave, he gets enough light to see what he needs to see, and he needs to save as much battery power as he can.

He also doesn’t plan to stay long.

It’s quiet save for the pitter-patter of the sleet on the hard ground and the sound of his own breathing echoing around the rock walls.

The map is a bit soggy when he pulls it back out, and he tries his best to hold it as gently as possible to stop it from ripping or falling apart on him. He knows he could get back to the house from here without it, but it’s his only record of his search, and he’d hate to have to start from scratch. Which is why when one of the corners flops down and tears itself, he curses again, this time a bit more forcefully as he tries to hold the paper back together, willing it to not get any worse.

It’s at that exact moment that something behind him shifts, the sound of scratching on the rock followed by a low, animalistic growl that makes the hairs on his neck stand completely upright, his whole body going rigid.

The possibility occurs to him that maybe the cave was deeper than he thought it was, or that maybe, just maybe, there was something big in the way stopping him from seeing all the way back.

It also occurs to him that maybe it wasn’t his own breathing that he had been hearing.

His whole body is frozen stiff as he waits to see what happens next, too afraid to turn around, too afraid to make a run for it, trapped in place like a deer in headlights.

He hears the thing stand, claws scraping against the stone ground as it does, footsteps heavy as it slowly moves forward, closer to him.

He should run. He should really run. Running would be a very good idea.

There must be a disconnect somewhere in his brain because no matter how hard he begs his legs to run, they stand frozen in place, trapping him in the mouth of this cave as whatever is behind him lumbers closer and closer with each breath.

And then it stops, everything falling deathly silent again, and he can all but feel the thing standing behind him, and everything in him is screaming to get the hell out of there right now, but he still can’t move.

Stan doesn’t know how long he stands there waiting, probably only a handful of seconds if he had to guess, even if it feels like an eternity. He swallows slowly, his heart slamming in his chest, in his ears, as he finally gains enough control of himself to turn, ever so slowly to see what exactly he’s dealing with here.

Two red eyes look down on him from scarcely a few feet away, and that’s all his brain can register outside of “big” and “huge teeth” and “run goddamnit run!”. But he still can’t move, and the thing lets out another low growl, this one much more pointed than the last, a clear warning. But his bones are somewhere between Jell-o and stone right now, his throat tight like he’s trying not to breathe even though the thing is looking right at him and it’s too late you should have run when you had the chance—

Its eyes flash, the sudden shift from burning red to bright yellow jolting him like a bucket of cold water to the face, and he has no idea what to make of it, and he’s still stuck in place right in front of this thing that’s making no moves towards him, his eyes locked on it like he’s waiting to see a reaction from it, waiting for it to make the first move.

And then, the yellow fades, the eyes returning to that same unnatural red, and he gets the vague feeling that something happened, he’s just not sure what, as the thing takes a small step back from him and just… stares.

It’s something of a stand-off, and he gets the impression that, whatever it just tried with the little glowing eyes trick didn’t quite work the way it expected. That this thing that could kill him with one lazy swipe of its arm (leg? Hand? Paw? What the heck even is this thing?) has yet to make an aggressive move against him for whatever reason and has done nothing but stare at him, and he has no idea what to do with that.

And this, whatever this is, feels fundamentally different than even a few seconds ago. And he’s not sure how that even makes sense given that he’s dealing with some hulking creature and not anything remotely human or rational. And yet, he swears the thing went from trying to intimidate him to… studying him? Like it’s reassessing how to handle him?

He must be losing his damn mind.

The thing regards him for another excruciatingly long moment before breathing out what sounds suspiciously like a hmph and then taking a step towards him. He braces, arms coming up, his legs still unhelpfully locked into place as he expects the attack to finally come. And the thing pauses, its hackles momentarily raising and a quiet growl rumbling in its throat for barely a second before it settles, pushes past him and…

Leaves.

It just… leaves.

In the dying sunlight and falling sleet, Stan gets his first full glimpse of the massive creature as it climbs free of the cave and stretches back out, easily towering over the cave entrance by many feet. Its whole body is covered in course hair that almost resembles quills, mushrooms of some sort growing from its back and shoulders. It stands up on its two hind feet (its claws are almost as long as his arm holy shit), seems to finish stretching itself out, drops back to all fours, and then dashes off into the woods and disappears into the darkness.

It takes him a minute to fully process what happened, for the adrenaline coursing through him to finally die out and the weight of the fear and relief to settle in. It’s enough to make his legs finally give out from under him as he sinks to the hard stone floor, the reality of how close he was to death worming its way into his bones like an old forgotten friend.

And yet…

A strained laugh breaks free from his throat, the sound oddly choked as he leans back against the rock wall behind him, his chest aching something fierce.

He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he just had an encounter with the creature the entire town is afraid of, and he made it out unscathed. He’s sure of it, in the same way that he’s sure his brother is alive somewhere, an unquestionable kind of feeling deep in his bones that’s the only real thing he has any faith in anymore. He knows that, somehow, he got lucky, and that thing let him be for whatever reason. He doesn’t know why or how, or what the yellow glowing eyes thing was or why it seemed to not really care about him after that (then it took a step back, so was it afraid of him? No that’s not possible, why would it be afraid of him?).

He sits there a while, lost in his own head, wondering what exactly he’s missing, why the entire town is afraid of something that ultimately decided to leave him alone. Wondering whether it was luck or something else entirely.

He doesn’t have an answer.

He’ll probably never have one, if he’s being honest with himself.

It’s well after dark by the time he musters enough energy to stumble back to the empty house that isn’t his, peel off the soggy coat that doesn’t fit him right, climb into his makeshift bed on the couch, and fall into a restless sleep to the sound of the heavy tapping of sleet on the windowpane.

[sammy-gvf]

We get along (for the most part)

Chapter One.

OC x Lee Bodecker

Warnings: None for now. Just some cursing.

Plot : The local rebel badass girl and Lee Bodecker have had run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we? 

MINORS DNI !!!!! Eventually this story will get 18+. I dont feel like getting in trouble because of you. Thanks a bunch. 

Evan Rachel Wood ( Across the Universe 2007) 

( personally in my head this is what she would look like but you can interpret her anyway you want!)

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My name is Margaret Lane, well Maggy. 22. Born May 2nd 1947.

The resident bad girl, don't worry, I gave myself that nickname.

I have lived in this tiny, middle of nowhere town my entire life. Same people, same gossip.  There's no escape. No matter how hard I try, something always stops me. I live with my parents and little brother here in Knockemstiff, Ohio. My parents and I have a mutual understanding of “you go to work and come home and then we don't talk”, which is fine with me. My little brother is the only one I can really rely on. He is 17 years old and he is really the only person in my family that I can really talk to. I mean, I have friends but they aren't living in the same house as me. Not yet at least, we are thinking about moving out all together.

High school is where I built my reputation, of course. Used to sneak around with Arvin Russell, which led me to meet Lee Bodecker. Sneaky ass sheriff used to follow my every move, making sure he took every opportunity to bust Arvin and I any chance he got. 

Had nothing better to do than to bust on teenagers who were sneaking out to their parents, what a loser. Along with gaining some parking tickets and speeding tickets along the way, we became acquaintances. Thinking about the future, I was dying to leave this town. Never got the chance to after high school, hopefully I will as soon as i'm done college. 

 I can say whole heartedly that I do NOT enjoy Lee's presence. That man memorized my license plate number. Stops me all the time, for no reason. 

Flashback 

It was a warm saturday evening, about 7pm. I had just got some college work done. Figured it was too nice to just sit inside, right?

 I get up out of my bed and put my school stuff in my bag, walking over to my closet to put on a pretty yellow flowy dress and grab my leather jacket, that'll go nice with the breeze coming in through my window.

I put my hair up in a bun and slip on some keds, something easy ya know? 

I turn off the light in my room and walk into the living room where I see my father asleep on the couch, I walk over to the counter and grab a little piece of paper and write “going out for a drive, be back soon” and put in on the table in front of my father so if he wakes up, he knows where I went. 

I actually have a lot of freedom compared to other girls my age, many girls my age are looking for husbands and/or their parents are trying to set them up with someone. My parents know who I am, I was so against having an actual boyfriend so I just slept around. Obviously, people at church got wind of it but I didn't really care, to me men are there at my disposal. I play the field for my own reasons. 

I grab my keys off the door in the foyer of my little house and head outfront. 

I head down the steps of my house and waltz towards my red little 1964 Ford Mustang. Worked for it all by myself. 

Getting in the car, I pop a cigarette in my mouth and light it up. Keeping the cigarettes in my car was my best bet, my father would kill me if he knew I smoked these things. Turning on the car, I throw in a Led Zeppelin cassette, immediately Whole Lotta Love starts playing. What a good song to drive to. 

I put my windows down and start driving down a long road where I know for a fact no one drives this time of night, partly because they are afraid of the sheriff, Lee Bodecker. 

Lee doesn't scare you, never has. 

Blaring music at high volume was what you  were known for in these parts and you could really care less about the time and how loud you had it. Music is a really important part of your self expression. 

Speeding down the road, cigarette in my mouth screaming the lyrics 

You need cooling

Baby I'm not fooling

I'm gonna send ya

Back to schooling

A-way down inside

A-honey you need it

I'm gonna give you my love

I'm gonna give you my love

 I smile and listen to the lyrics, I feel like such a rebel. People in these parts don't listen to this type of music, devil music they call it. They think it has some deep down evil meaning. I just shake it off, they wouldn't know real music if they tried. 

 I could just leave right now if I wanted to. Drive out of town and start fresh, no one would miss me. Except my brother and friends. They are really the only people keeping me in this dead end town. 

The cool breeze enters your hair and you lose your hair tie. Fuck. 

“ Damn It”  You say as you put the cigarette down and try to look to see where it went. It's nowhere in sight. 

“ I have to pull over to get this thing” you think to youtself. It's the only hair tie you own right now.

you light another cigarette and pull my car over to a slightly darker side of the road. You get out of the car and start searching for my hair band, it had to have fallen behind your seat. 

 Of course, you saw familiar blue and red lights pull up right behind me.

“Fuck me” you mutter as you turn around, shut the car door, kick the dirt under your feet and lean up against the car , patiently waiting for Lee to take his good ol time walking to me.

Lee exits his police cruiser wearing the typical uniform with the typical toothpick in his mouth.

You watch him as he slowly strides over towards you and You roll your eyes at him as he eyes you down, prick.

“Well, well, well, Ms. Lane. Fancy to see you here.” Lee says smirking and laying one hand on your car's trunk. You scoff at him.

“ Hands off the car, Bodecker. Thought you'd know better than to touch what's not yours.” You say looking over at him, taking a drag of your cigarette. Lee scoffs and walks over to you, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and crushing it with his shoe. Your jaw drops and you look over at him in disgust as he chuckles at your reaction to his doing.

“Pretty little ladies like you shouldnt be smokin these, could make ya look ugly” He says. 

You can smell the tobacco smell coming off him, the smell of mints sticking to his breath. He is a little closer to you now, you back up and grab your pack of cigarettes out of the cup holder in your car. Bending over, the sheriff gets a nice view of your backside for a split second.  

“Sheriff, I would like to respectfully say I do not give a fuck what a man thinks about how I look smoking a cigarette, I am not here for a mans enjoyment. Also, one more pet name and I'm telling your wife.” you say as you light another cigarette and the sound of Led Zeppelin is lingering in the background, Lee clicks his tongue and looks over at you.

“Ms.Lane, you have quite the mouth on you. Not very ladylike for a woman your age.” Lee takes his hat off and leans against your car. He lights a cigarette and stands there for a minute. You look at him confused and you roll your eyes. 

“Lee, besides bothering me, do you have a purpose being here right now?” You look at him and say while you take a drag of your cigarette. Lee looks over to you and laughs. 

“Well, I just seen a car parked all by itself on the side of the road and I was on duty anyways but then I saw your license plate and figured I'd see why you, little lady, are out all by yourself at this time of night.” Lee says throwing his cigarette on the dirt ground below him. 

You turn to look at him and finish your cigarette, leaning against the car still.

“ I appreciate your concern, Bodecker. I am just out for a drive and pulled over to find my hair tie, it came out while I was driving. Pulled over to look around for it, don't want my hair in my face while I am driving. Also, not a little lady. I am grown.” You say turning away from Lee and finding your hair tie, you turn to Lee while tying your hair up, smirking you say

“ Goodnight Officer,also don't follow me again, yeah?” You say climbing back into your car and you slowly pull away.

Lee stands there watching as you climb back into your car, the smell of your perfume in the air invades his lungs, dumbfounded, he smirks and laughs to himself. 

“Smart girl” Lee says as he smirks and turns to go back to his cruiser.

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You had noticed sometime down the road that there was a car following you with no lights on, you had just assumed it was some random person but with one certain lick of light you saw the sheriff's face in the mirror of your car mirror. Figuring that out, you went a little faster down the road and then you lost your hair tie, you knew what was coming. 

You look in the car mirror to look at Lee. He's already turned his car around and started driving the other way. You werent dumb, you know from the years of Lee catching you sneaking out and drinking and or having boys in your car as a young girl, he knows your moves. It makes you think he patrols these parts so he can catch you doing something dumb one day just to cuff you up and get some control. He never does. 

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 Two people with reputations in this town. 

 How bad can it get?

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Hi everyone! Welcome to my first fic! Lee Bodecker is quite the character and I have been wanting to write him for a while. Dont forget to leave some opinons so I can know what yall would want to possibly happen! Dont forget to like/reblog! It would mean the world. I am not sure about my posting schedule but itll most likely be once or twice a week! also let me know if youd like to be added to my tags so I can let you know when I post another chapter! 

Tags- @please-buckme , @ladyfallonavenger , @buckysdolls , @nerdy-depressed , @do-not-pray-for-me , @unsentlettersandmore , @local-spacegirl , @youcancallmeishita , @not-another-fangirl​ , @angelicbabydolll

[cicici03]

Who You Goin To Choose- Chapter 2

Finally I have update “ Who You Goin To Choose”. If you need a refresher, I have Chapter 1 link below!!

Chapter 1

How I felt after I wrote this chapter:

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“ Babygirl you not happy to see me?” Dominique asked Kia as he let go of her.

Kia was in shocked about seeing Dominique standing right in front of her. Kia looked over to her father to see him looking outside the window at the strip.

“ Daddy, what is this?” Kia asked with her voice going up while walking over to Ernest’s desk. Ernest looks at his daughter.

“ Well it seem like that Dominique is here because his cousin’s husband is facing your husband.” Ernest quietly said in a monotone voice.

Kia walked over to her dad. Looking him in the eye.

“ Daddy, I know what you are doing. I already doing the one thing you tell me to do, but I am not leaving Florian!” Kia yelled at her dad while pointing at him.

Sean, Ross, and Alexis were shocked by what they saw because Kia never stood up to Ernest. Ernest cleared his throat and looked at his only daughter.

“ Well you don’t have too, but remember I told you that the man is going to take all of your money if you got pregnant or after he was done having jungle fever. So with that, I will make sure that I will take you out of the family account so he don’t take mines too.” Ernest said with calmness in his voice.

Kia, eyes blurry with tears, looked at her father. Kia ran out of his office and went to hers.

Ernest turn his head to Dominique and nod for her to go after her. As he did that, he went back into his seat behind his desk. 

“ I can’t believe you going to give her an ultimatum. You know she loves Florian, and you going to make her choose on building her own family or biological family. Then you bring the same man that cheated on her, treated her like trash, made her get rid of a baby, and top it off gave her an STD!” Sean yelled to his father with his deep voice.

Sean started to laughed.

“ You are dirty! Plus, I bet you never told her the money Momma left to us!” Sean snickered while looking at his father, which  Ernest had his head down.

Sean left out of the office and went to his own to cool down. Ross looked at his dad and went out shaking his head. 

With that, it only left Alexis and Ernest.

Alexis wanted to say something, but she couldn’t tell Ernest how to raise his own kids. 

Even though Alexis knew Kia strongly dislike her.

She wanted to help her.

Alexis looked at Ernest as he was typing away on his computer.

As Alexis walked out, she realized that she going to have get into family business even though she knew Kia would be highly upset.

Alexis walk to the elevator and press the button to go down.

She looked around, and saw through Kia’s glass office window, Dominquie rubbing her back while she cried.

He was whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and Alexis could see that Kia was falling for them.

She shook her head as the elevator door open.

Even though Kia may hate her after what she is about to do.

She is trying to save Kia’s marriage.

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Thursday, 6:00 p.m.

“Uau, ador ce a făcut Kia cu locul !”  Momma Flo screech while walking into Kia and Florian’s house. 

( Wow, I love what Kia did with the place!)

As she was walking in, Florian, Masias, Sandro, and Papa Flo was carrying all the bags that Momma Flo brought . 

With that, many of Florian’s relatives and friends followed into the house. 

With that, Florian put down the bags and finally relieved to be home.

It took them so long, because Momma Flo didn’t tell him that she invite almost everyone from Romania. With that, Flo had to rent a two more vans to fit everyone and their stuff in.

“Deci, unde este Kia?” Florian’s cousin asked with much excitement. One thing about Florian family, they love everybody in Kia’s family and Kia except for Ernest.

( So where is Kia?)

“Ei bine, probabil că se lasă de la serviciu și se îndreaptă spre casă.” Florian said while sitting on the sofa to play with one of his little cousins.

( “ Well she probably getting off work and heading home.”)

As everybody was getting settle and was talking. 

Momma Flo looked at her son and smile.

Seeing him with kids and seeing how happy he was made her happy. She wished that Florian and Kia would hurry up.

However, she knew that Ernest was holding Kia back on it. From the conversations that Florian and Momma Flo had, she could tell that Ernest was trying to keep the two separate.

She really despises that man, because during Florian and Kia’s wedding he was about to object.

Momma Flo was really hoping Kia would stand up to her father, but Kia was just like Momma Flo. A person that loves her father and would do anything to keep her father happy.

Even it means that she will be hurting herself and other people that she loves.

“ Mamă, când vei începe să gătești?” Flo asked while walking towards her. Momma Flo snapped out of her thoughts and looked at her son.

( Momma, when are you going to start cooking?)

“ What?” Flo asked while looking at his mother while drinking his water.

Momma Flo smiled and rubbed her son’s cheek.

“ Nothing,” Momma Flo stated, “ Acum, voi toți oamenii care puteți găti. Vino să mă ajuți!” Momma Flo screamed while taking out pots and pans.

(  “ Now all of you people that can cook. Come help me!”)

Flo laughed at his mom. Florian realized that he left something upstairs for his cousin.

He ran up the stairs into his bedroom to get it. As he found it on the coffee table in their room.

Something on the chair caught his attention.

The silver object that was just freshly puncture and was missing a pill.

Florian picked it up.

He knew exactly what it was.

Florian sighed and and looked up at the ceiling.

Florian head was going through so many thoughts and was going all type of crazy.

She really must didn’t want a baby.

Kia has been lying to me.

The one thought that went through his mind really took him.

Ernest has been putting something in her brain.

As Florian, was starting to analyze his last thought, a voice interrupted.

“ Hi Florian.” Alexis quietly spoke seeing that Florian was in deep thought.

Florian look at Alexis and put on a smile. Florian and Alexis was close friends now as they both help each other navigate life with the Ford’s.

“ Hi Alexis, what are you doing here?” Florian asked while sitting down in the chair.

“ Well I.. I want to talk to you about something.” Alexis hesitated said.

Florian pointed towards the chair which Alexis sat in.

“ Well... it’s about Kia.” Alexis said while breathing very frantically.

Florian head turn to her so quickly.

“ Is she on birth control because I found this.” Florian spated out while putting the birth control on the table.

As Alexis was about to say anything, Kia walk through the bedroom door that was close.

Kia looked at Alexis with eyes of fury. 

“ What hell is this!” Kia smugly said with her eyes looking at Alexis.

“ Nothing is going on Kia.” Alexis  truthfully stuttered out while looking at Kia.

“ Then why was my fucking door close! You are nothing but a hoe!” Kia yelled at Alexis while charging her way.

Before Kia could get to Alexis, Florian stood up in front of her.

“ Now, stop it! I should be asking what the hell is this!” Florian barked at Kia while holding up the birth control.

When Kia saw that, her face drop.

Even though, Alexis thought Kia hid her expression about the birth control.

Florian knew that she was taking it.

“ Alexis, please leave and close the door.” Florian muttered out while still looking at Kia, whom was looking at the birth control in his hand. Alexis quickly left the room and close the door.

As the door close, you could feel the tension in the air.

Kia finally looked at Florian, and she could see the anger written over his face.

“ So, you been lying to me!” Florian screamed at Kia. Kia did what she do best:run.

Kia walked to the closet and started to find some clothes.

“ Are you fucking kidding me Kia! You been fucking lying to me! Then you have the audacity to not look at me!” Florian ran right behind her.

Kia still facing her clothes didn’t turn around to Florian.

Florian chuckled with anger.

“ So I bet your dad had something to deal with this!” Florian shouted again.

Kia took off her dress blouse and skirt to put on so comfortable clothes.

As she got finsih, she turn to Florian, which their eyes met.

“ I don’t want kids Florian!” Kia roared out which hurt her as she said it.

She could see Florian breaking in his eyes even though his face didn’t change. At that moment, it was the air in the room seem like it left.

One thing that was obvious to them both, was that Momma Flo was in the room. She was trying to tell them the food was done, but she got more than she bargain to hear.

“ I’m going to leave for my hair appointment, and I just go to my dad’s house since you have weigh ins tomorrow.” Kia quietly spoken as she grab her purse and left the closet.

Florian was still stucked in the same spot since Kia told him about her not wanting kids.

As Kia got to the door, she saw Momma Flo looking at her with tears in her eyes.

“Kia regândește-te! Florian și tu vei fi părinți buni! Știu că tatăl tău te-a pus la dispoziție pentru această miere! Obișnuiam să fiu tu! Dacă aș fi încă ca tine, nu i-aș fi avut pe Florian și pe Papa Flo în viața mea!” Momma Flo choked out with tears coming down her eyes.

( “ Kia rethink about it! Florian and you will be good parents! I know it was your father that put you up to this honey! I use to be you! If I was still like you, I wouldn’t have had Florian and Papa Flo in my life!”)

Kia looked at her and shooked her head and she left while running out of the house to avoid anybody.

Momma Flo realized that Kia was running from physically, but emotionally. She didn’t want to face that she may lose her dad for her happiness. She also, didn’t want to face that she may lose her husband for her dad’s happiness.

So the only thing she was going to keep doing was running.

However, you sooner or later have to stop running.

—————————————————————

Wow.

Y’all I don’t even have questions for this one because I’m just in schock!!!!!!

Please tell me how you feel by commenting! I love comments good or bad!!!

Please Reblog!

Please Like and Tell Your Friends!!!!

Taglist: @19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @designerwriterchic @queen-zelieonna @amethyst09 @champagnesugamama @natashacoco @cocobutterqwueen @bvssmob

[sincerelyreidburke]

Boy Scout Dex drabble time!!!!!! (S/o @bitsfordays for talking this through with me like 10 days ago and creating this concept in my head)

Anyway, CCU, Nursey goes home with Dex for senior-year Thanksgiving, let’s have a field day.

//

It’s not that Derek is scared of Will’s parents.

After all, he’s met them before. He’s pretty sure the first time he met them, at least distantly, was Family Weekend freshman year. They know who he is, and they’ve always been nice to him. When he first met Will, he was sure that he came from the type of family who would cast judgement on him without knowing anything about him, based only on the way he looks. He’s known plenty of those types of people— at Andover, back home in New York, even at Samwell. It’s a part of life. He was sure that Will came from that type of environment.

But he was wrong. Three years later, it turns out, there are a lot of things about Will he was wrong about.

And so here he is, spending Thanksgiving with the Poindexters in Maine.

He should be okay. He shouldn’t be intimidated. After all, he isn’t scared of them. They’re kind people, and he knows it full well. They were the ones who extended the invitation, who wanted him here, to share their family holiday with them.

It’s just… the way they invited him, as Will’s friend, and what he actually is to Will, these days, are two different things.

It’s okay, though. Derek knows how to stay firmly closeted around people who can’t know. This is nothing new. It doesn’t make it easy, but at least he knows how to do it.

The point is: he’s not afraid of Will’s parents. But he does sort of care an awful lot about what they think of him.

Not that he’d admit it. At least, not to them, or to Will, or to anyone, really— except maybe Chowder, a few drinks in at a kegster, spouting off anything and everything about all of his love for Will and hope for their future. But he’s not so sure that telling Will he’s been anxious for days about making the right impression on his potential future in-laws (God, he hopes) would be the best idea. He’ll tell him later, maybe.

He has to get through this Thanksgiving break first.

So when Mrs. Poindexter is giving him the tour of the house upon his first arrival, he’s on high alert.

Chill Mode is a hundred percent activated; it’s in overdrive, in fact. He trails her, a short lady with strawberry blond hair who he’s pretty sure is simultaneously the sweetest thing ever and also the most likely person to kick somebody’s ass given the opportunity. She brings him to the bedroom he’ll be staying in, to drop his stuff— Will’s room, the one he used to share with his brother; there are still two beds, Mrs. Poindexter explains, because Drew only moved out a few years ago, which works out just great for you two, doesn’t it?

(Ha. Derek wonders if he can get away with some funny business once the bedroom door is shut tonight. He’s not sure he wants to test the waters with Will’s parents, but then again, if he was extra careful to keep Will quiet…)

Not the point, not the point. Derek is chill. He’s doing the tour of Will’s childhood home, the space he grew up in, trying to see all the imprints of his memory in the worn floorboards and the old furniture. “You have a lovely home,” he tells Mrs. Poindexter in the living room. She smiles at him like this is the best thing he could’ve said.

“Well, thank you, Derek,” she replies, gracious and kind. “It’s nothing all too fancy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Derek shrugs, flashing an effortless smile, and replies, “Fancy is overrated.”

Mrs. Poindexter chuckles. Over his mother’s shoulder, Derek watches Will as his face washes with relief. Derek knows what he’s thinking. This is going well.

Derek hunts for more things to compliment, and his eyes land on a series of photos on the wall next to the fireplace. “Oh!” he says, with a smile, as he steps towards them. One of the pictures features Will in a cap and gown, in what Derek recognizes as the front yard of this very house. “Will, was this your graduation?”

Will nods, and so does Mrs. Poindexter. “It was a beautiful day,” she remarks. “And look at the weigela in bloom right behind him; aren’t they nice?”

Derek nods like he has any idea what plant she’s talking about. There’s a big pink bush over Graduation Will’s left shoulder, so he’s guessing it’s that. “They’re great.”

“We’ll need another one soon,” Mrs. Poindexter hums, with a smile, and then puts her hands up in a frame shape like she’s imagining just where it’ll go on her wall. “When you boys finish this year.”

“God, Ma,” Will mumbles, with a smile that might be real or might be forced. “Not so fast. We’ve still got over half a year.”

Mrs. Poindexter laughs. “I know,” she replies. “I’m just teasing. But it’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it?”

Derek catches Will’s eye, and answers for both of them. “Quicker than anything.” He pauses, smiles at him. “But it’s been a good run.”

Will smiles back, just a tiny bit, and then looks back at the pictures as if they aren’t on the wall in his own living room in the house he lives in. Derek follows suit, and this time, he catches sight of one below the graduation one, of Will with just his parents in some kind of banquet hall.

Derek squints at the picture. He does a double take.

What is Will wearing?

It’s…… he’s in some kind of a sailor outfit. It’s white on the top and bottom, with a hat and a dark necktie and a bunch of pins or maybe patches near the collar. His parents are in regular dressed-up clothes, his dad in a suit and his mom in a dress, and they both look as proud as can be.

Derek looks between picture-Dex and the Dex next to him, who is in distinctly non-sailor clothing, just a trademark flannel and jeans. Dex looks younger in the photo, but not that young. It’s from high school, for sure.

“Will,” he says slowly. “Is there a story behind this picture?”

Will looks where he’s looking, and then pauses to look right at Derek, like he’s trying to figure out if Derek is about to make fun of him. During his silence, Mrs. Poindexter chimes in. “Oh, that one!” She smiles huge, the trademark of a proud mother. “That was his Quartermaster ceremony.”

Derek looks back at the picture. Steadily, the joy of this fascinating new discovery about the man he’s been in love with for 2+ years starts to register. There is a story behind this picture. And he thinks he’s about to hear it. “Quartermaster?”

Will lets out a gentle sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets, and says, kind of unceremoniously, “I was a Boy Scout.”

This, Derek was aware of. Will occasionally makes cracks about being prepared or lets an offhanded comment loose about his scouting days. But Derek hasn’t ever heard a word about quartermasters, whatever they are. And he definitely hasn’t seen this sailor outfit.

He looks at the picture. Will looks cute. Cute enough that he’s feeling some type of way about it. His hair is a little long— at least, long for Dex; it’s still short in general— and it’s sideswept a little under his hat, from which his ears stick out underneath. His necktie is just a little crooked to one side. Even his shoes are white.

He looks like some kind of old-timey boat guy. And Derek is kind of thinking he needs to show the group chat immediately.

“I feel like you should tell me more,” he replies, grinning up at Will.

Mrs. Poindexter nudges Will from the other side. “Oh, darling, you should,” she says. “You’ve never told Derek about scouting?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Will replies, but his tone is fully conscious of the fact that she’s going to have him tell Derek again, and Derek has literally never been more pleased with a situation.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the picture, and saves it for later.

For now, he’s going to hear this story.

BONUS:

Samwell Men’s Hockey 2017-18

Nursey sent a photo to the group

Nursey: everybody

Nursey: PLEASE look at my boyfriend

Nursey: i am a.) dying, and b.) also in love

Dex disliked a photo

Dex: Stop being corny on main

Chowder loved a photo

Chowder: omg!!!!!!!!!!!

Chowder: dex where is that from!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ford loved a photo

Ford: DEX WERE YOU IN ANYTHING GOES?

Dex: Looooool, no. Sea Scouts.

Dex: Like Boy Scouts but w/ sailing.

Tango emphasized a photo

Tango: tahts so cool???

Chowder: dex how come i never knew this!!!!!!!!!!!

Nursey: to be fair i also didn’t know this until like 20 minutes ago

Nursey: lol

Hops: Omg you look like sailor moon!

Dex: I wish I knew what that meant

Nursey: hops you’re my hero

Hops: Thanks nursey!

Hops: :D

Nursey: guys i can’t even

Nursey: he looks so cute

Ford: This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

Bully: nothing but respect for MY captain

Nursey: OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Chowder: sailor dex sailor dex sailor dex!!!!!!!!!

Ford: Brb changing group chat photo

Nursey: ily ford

Chowder: we should put this on shirts!!!!

Louis: Dexy the sailor man

Dex: Derek, Im going to blcok you

Nursey: love you bby

Dex: GROSS

Rhodey: is group chat flirting a fine

Bully: It should be

[vinummagicae]

weeks have turned to months and your journey to olympus, your acceptance of your life as a demigod, has lead up to this moment. it's been brutal, wrought with pain and close calls, thick with loss, but you've endured. as you begin to get ready to sleep, winding down for the night, something inside of you feels different. there's a strength that grows that you only dimly knew was there before. you feel stronger, faster, more attuned to your senses and your own inner power. if you ever doubted that you might have divine blood in your veins before, now, more than ever, you feel it. 

as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall fast asleep, exhausted from the events that have lead up to this point. who knows however long later, you "awaken". you're not where you fell asleep, nothing is as it was when you slept. you have to blink a few times but you realize that you're in a place that seems familiar to you. describe this place? what does it look like, sound like, smell like?

Opening his hazel eyes, Ender looked around to see that he was no longer in the tent fast asleep next to the son of Apollo, but instead standing. The lights were bright and shining down at him in a way that blinded him temporarily. Raising a hand to cover the lights as his eyes got  adjusted to the sudden brightness, it took a few times of blinking before he could make sense of where he was. Standing in the middle of a stage, he was facing an auditorium where every red velvet upholstered seat lied empty. Glancing to his left and then right, Ender soon realised that he was alone standing there in the middle of the stage, in fact he was the only one from what he could tell in the building. He had been in this room before, several times in fact but never on this stage. He had sat in the mezzanine when he came to see Hamilton with his best friend, Cole, and years before that sat front and center as he watched Romeo and Juliet be performed here. It had always been his dream to stand on this stage - or any stage in Broadway -  to take the shape of a character and drop his old skin for a few hours but he never got to live that dream. Smiling to himself, the drunken demigod took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar scent of the theatre, they all smelled the same to him, and relaxed instantly. It smelled like home.  

the auditorium is as beautiful as you remember it. the overhead lights beam down on you and send your shadow in almost all directions. 

the air is filled with the familiar scent of hardwood and red velvet. even with the seats empty, you can feel the thrill of a performance thrumming beneath your veins. 

then you hear someone or something clearing their throat. you could’ve sworn this place was empty, except for you. you look around, hazel eyes trying to find the source, and see a figure sitting in the front row, directly center. the bright lights make it hard to see through but they shift to illuminate the figure. 

who or what do you see? describe what they look like and how they make you feel.

It was almost as if he could tell who was sitting there in the front row from the second he heard that familiar clear of a throat. How many times have he heard it directed towards him when he knew he was to be scolded for ‘not acting his age’ or whatever else the fine dressed man felt like getting onto him about that day/week/month. Taking a heavy sigh that he could feel throughout his whole body, Ender closed his eyes for a second almost as if he kept them close then he wouldn’t be able to see the white haired man sitting there, glaring at him and judging him for wanting this in life. Wanting to feel the thumm under his skin and pretend he wasn’t the same person that he was outside of this building-- There was one person who hated Ender McKenzie more than he did himself, and it was the man sitting there front and center. He could almost hear him say ‘Edward’ before he even had the chance to do so. Roger, his step father, never called him by the nickname he had given himself before he even met the guy, deciding that nicknames weren’t professional or some other bullshit. Then again nothing Ender ever did was in Roger’s agenda for the life he had planned for him.  Yet he always said he never wanted to be a father figure for the young child when he first married his mother. It seemed he just wanted to control him instead. Wanting a carbon copy of his real son-- someone to take over the business when he retired, who was married to a pretty little blonde and had a couple of kids. Big shock to him when Ender came out gay. Though it wasn’t really a shock when a kid grew up dreaming of standing on a stage like this, singing musicals around the house and talked about how Harrison Ford was handsome now was it? 

“Can you just not?” Ender asked before the voice could even speak, pinching the bridge of his nose; the feeling of safeness he felt just seconds before when he realized where he was standing was now gone. Then again Roger always was the best at stripping him raw, exposing who he was really on the inside and then leaving him bleeding out expecting Ender to stitch himself back up again and be the person he wanted the drunken demigod to be. Too bad for his step-father, it never worked out that way. 

roger sits there poised, hands resting on the arm rests, eyes focused on you. he doesn't react when you speak, only stares for what feels like an endless moment. this is the man who would turn you into a fraud, who would rip the happiness from your hands and turn you into a reflection of himself and his son—who would take your individuality and your freedom of self away just so HE could find some ounce of happiness. 

a smile curls along his lips and he brings his hands to rest in front of his chest, fingertips resting against fingertips. 

he opens his mouth to speak and you can't hear anything at first. the sound of the clearing throat is gone and instead it's replaced by something that sounds muffled. you can see him, he's only a couple dozen feet away from you, maybe, but trying to hear him and identify what he's saying is as if he's screaming from hundreds of feet away. 

you strain your ears to listen and then it all clicks into place. the voice is audible as if he's standing right beside you, talking into your ear. 

what is the voice you hear? does it belong to roger? is it someone else's? describe what you hear and how that voice makes you feel.

For a second, Ender is relieved. He can’t hear him and it makes him chuckle some. It almost feels like he is a young child sticking his fingers into his ear to avoid listening to their parents scold them. Though the feeling doesn’t last long and soon the familiar voice fills his ears--

It’s a deep and rumbling voice. More bass than baritone as if he was constantly grumbling or growling in his direction. Which he usually was in Ender’s case. It was one that could always fill him with dread.

The first time he was scared of that voice was when Roger sat him down and told him he was going away for a bit and wasn’t coming back until he was better. He was fifteen and it was also the first time he screamed out loud for his real father not knowing who he was or why he was calling out for the greek god. Just that he was scared and didn’t want to ‘go get help’ when he was perfectly fine. The second time he was scared of that deep voice was when he came out of the closet. He hadn’t been home from the psychiatric hospital for long before he came out of the closet - though again it wasn’t that much of a shock for everyone -. Ender still had the scar on his chin from that day that he hides under the slight stubble he always wears now. There had been other times he had been scared of that voice, never knowing what was to come from it. Too many times to count actually and he had given up trying by the time he hit twenty-one and could ‘legally’ drink. Alcohol always helped when it came to his step-father. He learned that at young age.

When the man speaks this time it’s one word, the word Ender had expected him to say before he even opened his mouth and the relaxing exhale he had taken moments before was gone and replaced with tension. As if someone had wound up every muscle in his body and he was ready to snap. All over one fucking word. “Edward.” 

Gods he hated that name. 

"edward," roger says once more, the voice a deep bass, a growl that rumbles through the speakers of the auditorium as if he's hooked up to a microphone. "i've been waiting for you." 

he doesn't move from his spot, still sits there with his eyes focused on you as if he's trying to gauge who you are now to who you were then. there's the unseen scars that linger beneath the surface, hidden away from sight from everyone but you. but he's the reason many of those exist. 

"you've kept me waiting." he says, finally standing up. he seems taller than you remember, towering over you even from his seat in the front row. "that disappoints me."

Was he always that tall or did he just have that way of making himself appear that way to him? Ender couldn’t remember, perhaps it was because when he still looked at him he felt like the 15 year old boy that was being told he was going away against his will. The man towered over him then and continued to do so even when he hit his own growth spurt that now made him over 6 feet tall. Yet the man before him could make him feel like he was 2 feet tall…

Sometimes never changed. 

“I thought I always disappointed you,” Ender said with ever so slightly a quiver to his voice at his words. Cursing himself he told himself to get a grip, to not let fear show as he planted his feet firmly on the ground of the stage. He had faced ogres and huge ass wasps and came out alive. He could face his step-father. Right? He hoped so anyway.

“What do you want? Can we make this quick? I have someone to get back to.” 

"always is a strong word, edward." 

roger moves from his seat and begins to walk along the long, almost endless row of red velvet seats. when he gets to the aisle, he stops to stare at you, hand resting on one of the large backs of the seats. the spotlight follows him, follows him for every step he takes. 

"we have as much or as little time as you may need, edward. i have waited this long, even if it displeases me. but you know about causing upset and unrest, don't you? what is it about you that makes you so rebellious?"

Ever the narcissist he tries not to be, Ender’s jaw clenched when the spotlight started to follow the older man. Here stood a man who made sure in his power that he could not end up on stage for a living, was now taking _his_ spotlight from him. Oh the irony was not lost on him and he added it to the list of many things why he hated this man. 

“Rebellious?” It was the first time in a long time, Ender actually laughed around the man and it was dry and bitter. "Who? Me?" 

It was a rhetorical question and they both knew it. Ender could count on one hand how many times this man had to bail him out of jail and pay the cops off just because he was hanging around the wrong crowd again. How many times his mother and him told Ender they had a fund set aside for his funeral because all three of them knew that it was only a matter of time before his coke and alcohol addictions caught up to him and they got the call that he was dead somewhere. None of them expected him to make it to the age of 30 and, well,  look at him now. 

“Why do you even want to know?” Ender asked as he began to pace back and forth on the stage, his hazel eyes staying on Roger the whole time. “Why do you even care? You made it abundantly clear over the years you were never a father to me, though you sure did try to punish me like one. Every little thing I did wrong you were there to make sure it was known how displeased you were with me.” Pacing from stage left he moved towards stage right before asking yet again, "Why do you care? No one cared what happened to me, no one ever cared about me except--” Except Cole. This made him stop, eyes going wide as he was hit with the realization of what he had done all over again. How he toyed the boy around for years, playing with his feelings, using him for sex until the day his best friend told Ender how he really felt. No he wasn’t going there right now. Not ever. “So I will ask you again, what do you want?” 

"i want your honesty, i want to know who you are." 

it's a strange thing coming from the man who, for so many years, never wanted to know who YOU were but only wanted you to be what HE wanted. he walks to the edge of the stage and the spotlight begins to flicker in and out, as if it can't stay lit for too much longer. you watch as roger raises a hand, waves it to the stage in a dismissing wave—a practiced one, you remember how easily he dismissed you when he was done with you—and you're no longer on the stage, but sitting in the same seat you sat when you saw hamilton, but you feel as if you can see the stage and every thing about it like you were still standing there. 

you blink a few times and realize that roger is sitting beside you. the stern face, the disappointed set of his jaw and eyes, isn't there. his eyes don't even look like his, you realize. but someone else's, someone kind. 

do you recognize the eyes? who do they belong to? 

"i only want you to be honest with me and yourself." roger says. 

"who are you?"

“Who are you?” It was a question Ender had asked himself so many times in his life; growing up, school, college, even now. There were moments he stared at himself in the mirror at camp and asked that to his reflection and the answer was always the same. “I am weak.” He didn’t glance at the pair of eyes but kept them on the stage wishing he was back up there. Where he belonged to be. It was like a magnetic pull inside him, trying to get him to go back up there but he couldn’t move. “I am weak.” He said again with a shake of his head, gripping the armrests of his seat to the point his fingers were turning white from his grip on them. “I am a high functioning alcoholic who only hurts the people who love him.” He hurt Cole. He hurt Greyson. Who knows who else he would hurt if they got close enough? Perhaps that is one reason he kept his distance and didn’t get too close to anyone at camp. Sure he would talk to them but why bother opening up if he was just going to leave them for his own selfish needs? 

“I am someone who doesn’t deserve love. I am someone who never expected himself to make it to the age of thirty, yet here I am and what for? Why am I still alive?” His voice cracked at the confession and before he knew it the rest came tumbling out of him like a river bursting through a dam. “It’s why I spend most nights high or drunk. I wanted to die. I spent so many of my years of my life never expecting it to get this far and what for? So I could be some kind of champion for a guy who never once offered to help me? Fuck that! Why should I help him when he didn’t help me every time I called out for him?  When I needed him the most he was nowhere to find and now that he is missing I have to drop my life and help him!?” 

Ender was all but screaming now as he spoke, his chest rising and falling as the emotions flowed through him. It wasn’t until he turned to look at the man sitting next to him he realized that the eyes were no longer Roger’s ice blue ones but someone else’s. They looked familiar like he had seen them pass by on a street or a party once but can’t place a name to who they belonged to. Though if he had to guess it was a female’s. Yet as he gazed upon them he felt oddly at ease, the rage and pain that had been filling up inside him at the question was gone. Instead it was more sadness as he asked-- “Who am I supposed to be? Because I have no idea anymore...I just know I don’t want to be weak anymore. I don’t want to die anymore and that scares me more than anything.” 

for a long time after you speak, roger stares at you. every time your voice rose, every time you were almost screaming, he didn't flinch away from you or tell you to be quiet. he didn't scream at you to shut up and stop complaining about the life you have. 

no, he only listens.

then, calmly, he begins to speak once more, still staring at you as if he sees into the deepest, darkest parts of you; as if he's shining a light on the places you wish no one to go. 

"it takes great strength to continue fighting, to persevere regardless of circumstance. it takes strength to still fight a fight for someone who never fought for you." from his hand, he produces a bushel of grapes and offers you one. "but maybe you don't do this for him, maybe you're here because you didn't want to die long ago and this was an option to allow you to live." 

he pops a grape in his mouth unceremoniously and peers at you through his lashes. "you are whoever you wish to be, ender. the world is a stage and you are an actor. you can pretend to be whoever you wish or finally be who you ARE."

hearing roger's voice and seeing roger's mouth form the name ENDER hits you like a brick. what emotions does it bring out of you?

“Is it fair for me to be selfish like that?” Ender asked reaching out to accept the grape because fuck he needed something right now. Even if it was just a small nectar filled grape, it was better than being sober for this. “Everyone else seems to actually want to help their birth parent and here I am not caring at all that he is missing. Is that wrong of me? Does that make me weaker than them?” Every time he stepped in front of a creature or person he was expected to fight, he wasn’t frightening for Dionysus but a chance for another day to live. And maybe all along he knew that deep down, that he had come to camp not to die like he thought but a chance to live like this version of his step-father suggested. Those pitch black eyes peered into his soul a bit more as he felt the grape pop in his mouth and released the nectar that he craved. It wasn’t until the slip of _Ender_ came out that he knew for sure this wasn’t his step-father as much as he had spent most of his life longing to hear that name fall from Roger’s lips. A sign that the man finally accepted him for who he was. The drunken demigod knew better than to get his hopes up and realized, finally, that it didn’t matter if Roger accepted him or not. He no longer lived to please or make him happy with his life choices. It wasn’t who he was anymore. It will never be who he is again now that he had a taste of what he could do. The strength his younger self never knew was deep inside him longing to be set free. If he had discovered it fully back then would he have killed the man out of rage and pent up energy? Ender didn’t dwell on the answer, knowing too well what it would be. 

Yes.

“Who are you? You are not him, I know that now. Why bring me here?” Ender asked, reaching for another grape missing his own bunch he kept on him at all times. 

"to have reservations is human. some maybe slipping into immortality quicker than you and that is alright." roger says, his voice a low rumble that still catches over the speakers of the theatre. "everyone's journey is different, that's what makes life beautiful. eventually, you will come to know your father and understand him. but if you shut him out entirely, this life—" he waves to the stage and then toward you. "would be gone entirely."

"i'm not him as you are now who he has tried to make you." roger stands, fingers moving to the bannister to look out over the stage. "i am an echo of your father's power, here to test your resolve. you are strong willed, son of dionysus." he tips his head toward you. "ender." his pitch black eyes almost turn as red as wine before shifting back to the abyssal emptiness of darkness. 

"it is up to you to craft a path for yourself. you picked a theater to bring me here." he pauses, looking at the stage once more. "Why?"

“He is the one who shut me out,” Ender said growling for a second letting that bit of anger slip through. At the mention of this figure being an echo of his power, Ender froze almost and stated at him with wide hazel eyes almost in disbelief. “Fifteen years...I have waited at least fifteen years for any sign of you and now you come to me? Now you want to act like you care? Now you want to show up? When were you when I needed you the most?! I--” He paused and once again pinched the bridge of his nose trying to calm down and focus on things that weren’t going to piss off the one person he had been screaming to the heavens for years over. So instead he focused on trivial things, like how the eyes shifted from dark black to red and part of him wondered if his own would do that one day when he tapped into whatever power he had within him. A sigh escaped him and he opened his own plain hazel eyes and glanced to the stage. “It’s where I wanted to be my whole life. Ever since my mother took me to see my first show when I was younger I dreamed of belonging up there- or any stage really. It’s where I could shed my skin and be someone else. I was--am so tired of being me that the idea of being someone else was ideal to a young child who could do nothing right, it felt like.” There was a pause in his words, the silence filling the theatre as he said, “I think part of me still longs to shed my skin some days and be someone else. It’s freeing to pretend you aren’t yourself even if it is just for a few minutes or hours. Makes you hate yourself a little less.”

"you weren't ready for the truth until now, ender." the bottomless eyes flicker toward you and back to the stage. roger takes a more relaxed stance, more so than you've ever seen him take before. he leans against the bannister and smiles. "but i'm here now and i won't be leaving unless you want me to." 

"you wish to be an actor, a shapeshifter." he turns to face you now, as if he's still looking into the darkest parts of you. "the stage is what you make of it. remember, all the world's a stage."

“I don’t,” Ender confessed looking at the man who was supposed to be an echo of his father’s power. As he said those two words he realized how true it was. “I don’t want you to leave. I wish you didn’t look like _him_ but I don’t want you to leave.” As he spoke he sounded almost like a small child asking his parents not to leave them at a babysitter or a new nanny as they rushed off to go to work. 

His whole life, he went on believing that he never needed a father figure in his life that he was fine with his mother who was a strong independent woman who raised him for a love of theatre and of arts. He never got to participate in father-son activities and he was okay with this. He told himself over and over that he didn’t need to know who his father was, that he didn’t need him to teach him things father’s taught their sons. But now, having a glimpse of him in front of him--

Well he realized how wrong he was and how much he wanted to keep that glimpse near him now. To make up for lost time almost. 

At the mention of being a shapeshifter, an actor, Ender nodded his head and explained, “It’s all I wanted in life. To pretend I wasn’t me for a bit. Roger, the real him, never let me achieve those dreams so I went to school for other things. But this,” his eyes glanced back to the stage with a longing. “This is where my heart lies.” Exhaling he turned back to the figure of his step-father and said, “The world is my stage now. I need to remember that.”

"i won't leave." roger says before he tilts a glance toward you, eyebrow arching up. 

"just as you wish to be a shapeshifter, this is not who i must be either." he begins to drip away, like a waterfall of wine until he is nothing more than a puddle of deep red at your feet. you hear an echo in your mind, a gentle nudge. "go on, maestro, turn me into whoever or whatever you wish me to be and you, too, will have an echo of your father's power."

what do you turn roger into? who or what shape does he take in this new form?

For a second his mind goes to Cole, the boy he was best friend with and the very boy he broke as well. Ender knew it was selfish to think this, to wish the echo of his father’s power to be the boy just so he could see and talk to him again. Sure he was selfish and the past him would have done it in a heartbeat, it just didn’t feel right to have his father’s echo to turn him. His mind then goes to the exact opposite of what he imagined he could make Roger look like. His step-father was tall and silver haired and screamed respect, but in his mind he saw a girl he once talked to at a party. They hit it off immediately, becoming friends and staying beside each other during the whole night, only for her to slip away without a trace and without a way to contact her. He had seen her face a few days later in the news having died from being mugged on her way home. Part of him blamed himself, though he never got her name or her number. He just held onto the bit of sass she threw at him, the way she made him laugh and the way she could boss him around after minutes of meeting her. “Her.” Ender said imagining the girl in his head. Her dark wavy curls, black eyes and petite frame. He didn’t even have a name for her, or if he did he lost it in the dug filled haze that was most of his twenties. He just knew that if she had more time on earth she would have been his other best friend, the only other person to boss him around and make him get his shit together when he needed it most. It was what he needed now. “I chose her.”

"good. now i'll give you my power and we'll kick some ass together." the new form grins and, although she's nameless for now, you think that, eventually, you'll find a suiting name for her. she pushes your shoulder and her dark curls bounce and her dark eyes see straight through you. 

you wake up feel as if you've been pushed from your bed and when your eyes adjust, you realize that you're back in your tent with greyson after a long, treacherous few days in the underworld. but oddly enough, you feel more well rested than you've ever felt before. 

kick some ass together.

it's a thought that races through your mind and you know that you're ready to take this stage by storm, star of the show or not.

[avaantares]

GUYS I WAS SUCH A STAR WARS NERD IN HIGH SCHOOL

So, first off, happy Star Wars Day!

My mother has been cleaning out her house during lockdown, and last week she sent me a huge package of artwork I did for assignments in high school, which she found in a closet. It's fitting that I opened it on May the Fourth, because one of the pieces was this rather typical one-point perspective drawing of a ‘50s-style diner. ...Except that in the mid-’90s when I drew this, I was a MASSIVE Star Wars fan (the Special Edition was coming out in theatres, so much hype!), and I filled the picture with a zillion references to the Star Wars trilogy and EU. (There were no prequels yet. Ah, the good old days.) I think I was 16 when I took this class.

Some of the pencil has smeared in the past couple of decades, so it’s not as legible as it used to be, but here are the references I can still read:

Menu

Kenobi Chicken Meal

Jaina’s Java

Jade Tea

Guinness Salad

Dathomir Strudel

Apple Pie from Anakin’s Orchard

Bulletin Board

Calrissian School of Business Wants YOU!

Wanted: Babysitter for 3 small children. Contact L.O. Solo, New Coruscant, THX suite 1138.

For Sale: Slightly used battle station, known as “Death Star.” Some repair needed. If interested, call 1-222-PALPATINE.

LOOKING FOR SOMEONE? Call Slave-1 Agencies at 1-800-Boba-Fett

ad for Sy Snootles School of Music

JAWAS GO HOME

a message for Anakin

Join the Jedi Academy! 1-800-FORCE-12

Ackbar’s Fish Mart - SALE!

LANDO WAS HERE

Callista: Come Home

Crix Madine Says:

Missing: Jabba the Hutt

“You Rebel Scum” / “Apology Accepted, Captain Needa” / Got a quote???

We Need Stormtroopers (with tear-off strips)

Bar-B-Q at Mara’s Saturday Night

Luke: Call Home ASAP -- Dad

WANTED: Han Solo

“Hi, Leia!” - (the signed name is no longer legible)

an ad for Thrawn

something with the word Dathomir, the rest illegible

Napkin Dispenser

Try All-New Yavin Yogurt - A Whole New World of Flavor!

Windows

Lucas Lighting

Carrie’s Hairstyles - For A Truly Unique Look

Sabre Electronics - O.B. Wan, Prop. - Since 1977

Ford Carpentry Services

a weight-loss flyer with a phone number ending in 1138

The funny thing is, I actually remember doing this assignment. I originally based it off a Twilight Zone episode I’d seen where a couple gets trapped in a town with a creepy fortune-telling machine that tells them they’re never going to leave. I remember that my art teacher thought the fortune-telling machine I drew looked “Satanic,” and made me erase it (!) and redo the diner interior. But I had no memory of redoing it in a Star Wars theme! Apparently I was determined to make it a reference to something, LOL.

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: Gradients

Daltonfic Big Bang 2020: Week 2, Day 2: Soulmate AU “When was the last time you saw grey?” 

 “When was the last time you saw grey?”

The question took Dwight by surprise. For as long as he could remember, he’d seen in shades of grey. Grey skies with grey clouds; grey houses lining grey streets; grey trees, with grey shadows, underneath which his friend sketched a grey picture. He had known there was colour, his Uncle described it all in lurid details- the blues, the greens, the golds. Dwight knew if he had a favourite colour, maybe it would be red? Or purple? They seemed to have all the good things.

“You said I should use the other one. Dwight, green and red look the same in grey.” His hesitancy gave way to excitement, “This is amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Reed had been making a still life for art class; Dwight beside him trying not to mess up on his own project. Dwight took a look at the pastels between the two of them; none of them were grey. They hadn’t been grey for ages; but Dwight hadn’t noticed. Muted purples in with a pale green, cut with shades of yellow and peach; Reed’s hands were covered in colours Dwight wouldn’t have been able to distinguish when he was a kid. But today, he could pick out the yellow against Reed’s blazer. When had that happened?

“You met your soulmate!” Reed almost sprang up, but hit his head on the tree trunk. Dwight caught his stumbling friend.

“I must have.” Dwight said cautiously.  

“Must have? You can see colours! I was so overwhelmed when it happened. It was just boom!” Reed gestured, his hands wild. “It was like, bye greyscale. How can you just guess?”

“I don’t know when it happened.” Dwight admitted, staring around them at Dalton’s grounds. He hadn’t noticed. How had he not noticed every fleck and gleam of colour around him? Had it snuck up on him? Every single story he had heard of soulmates described the rush of colour, flooding your vision as you met them, your soulmate. He’d even looked forward to it; he’d wanted to know who it was, the exact moment he’d found that person who would understand him like no one else.

Reed cut through his thoughts. “What do you mean, you don’t know? It’s, it changes everything? I mean, I didn’t think I’d find mine so early, but god Shane practically fainted when he saw colour. I get you may have wanted to keep it private, but, I can tell you the second it happened.”

“I didn’t notice.” Dwight admitted.

He hadn’t noticed. Oh god he hadn’t noticed. What kind of soulmate was he?

“So, you don’t even know who it is?” It dawned on Reed, with a soft look of pity. Dwight didn’t want that. Not from his friend.

“I, I have to go.”

Now that he was aware of it, Dwight couldn’t unsee it. Even his own clothes, purchased by his mother specifically so her son would never look like a mess; black came in so many shades. The shirt was slightly purple, a black verging on green, and grey laces that looked blue in comparison to that grey he had just assumed everything was.

How had he not seen it? When did it change? What changed? Who?

Who was it? Who was it that brightened a world without him even realizing it? No. He couldn’t have one. Not like this.

God it was a trick. It had to be. Some creature that could make it seem like he could see colours. He couldn’t have met his soulmate yet. They’d have mentioned it. It had to be like, a demon, or a fae- oh god what had he done to piss off a fae? Where was his iron? Where was the salt?

His jog turned into a run, scared as he hopped a hedge back to Windsor’s back door. He had to get to safety. There was something out there. His instincts must be so dulled from this spell. What else were they making him see? What else were they trying to fool him into believing?

The inside of Windsor was blue. So blue it hurt his eyes. He had to have noticed how blue it was. It was like a paint bomb went off. Maybe it did and it was another thing he didn’t notice- or was noticing only because of the fae. Shit. Shit!

Dwight sprayed his hand with holy water. Did that help? He threw some of the rock salt from his pocket over his shoulder. That didn’t help either. The rest of his supplies were in his room. He’d be safe there until he could figure this out.

Without a doubt, Dwight knew the world was grey that summer. Sadie’s tears, Lucas’s freckled arms, Morgan’s glasses- all stoney, clear grey when they enveloped him into the warmest hug when he made it back to them alive. Sadie had brushed his hair back, kissing his cheek. Lucas kept holding him when Morgan rambled on, more than he’d ever heard him speak at once. He couldn’t imagine what colours they all were. They’d been grey. What changed?

The stairs flew by, two at a time in a blur of blue and brown. He almost tripped staring at the colours beneath his feet. Why were things they walked on so bright? Who decided to make it all so loud and distracting?

David nearly slammed into him, Dwight had to throw himself against the wall before he bowled the other boy over. He could hear Wes yelling things at him as he rolled and continued; he had to get back to the room. He could figure things out back there. It was safe there.

Padlocks. He had padlocks. Oh iron ones even! Thank you Morgan, you mad genius. The door was unlocked when he got there, but he got to work immediately, diving into the closet to grab the box of locks and incense (labelled by creature it repelled). The lighter was out of his pocket as he started to wrestle with the bolts- no- no wait.

“Hi, what’s wrong this time?” Todd asked from behind him, barely fazed by the armful of supplies. He was leaning back on his chair- his… his grey chair.

“Was that chair always grey?” Dwight asked cautiously.  

Todd caught where he was staring, gaze travelling down then back up to Dwight. He couldn’t interpret what his roommate was thinking. He couldn’t usually though.

“Yes it was. I thought it looked good.”

“So you can see colour?” Dwight asked, clutching the padlocks to his chest. His hands were shaking. Maybe Todd could help. He could help him figure this all out.

Todd nodded slowly, expression unreadable. “For a while now.”

Dwight held his thoughts together. Okay. Okay. Padlocks first. Got to get this figured out. Todd already had a soulmate. Good. Maybe they’d be able to help break this curse. A tricky fae was the last thing he needed right now.

He felt Todd’s eyes on his back as he bolted the door closed. He took the lack of argument as acceptance they’d be locked in at least for the rest of the night. He had told his roommate to keep a supply of food in case of emergencies; he could only hope out of all the advice he’d given Todd, this would have stuck. He felt like he was the only one trying to keep people safe here. His advice wasn’t annoying! It was practical.

“Nails?” Todd asked, opening the window to disperse the strong smell of incense. It was fine for it to go outside; let the fae know he would not be intimidated.

Dwight turned, the iron nails nearly all lined up at the foot of the door. “I think a fae’s cursed me.”

“Really?” Todd sat back down. The window helped, but there was no crosswind to help it along. The writer’s expression was pensive. Dwight assumed that meant explain.

“Yeah.” Dwight set the last nail in place, lining the whole thing with salt. He was nearly out of his supply. Oh what a time! “I can see colours. I think a fae is messing with my perceptions; its either that or a demon, but a demon would have clearer motives.”

“You found your soulmate?” Todd sounded worried.

“No.” Dwight said firmly, standing up and closing the door to the closet. “They’re messing with my mind. I would know if I met them; I wouldn’t just, not?”

The last bit was bitter in his mouth. Because what if he didn’t? No! Besides, the only new people he’d met that term were the freshmen. And they all treated him the same as any other upperclassmen. You’d think if it was one of them the gossip would have spread. They were the worst secret keepers ever. Not a single prank on Stuart had gone right since they started babbling to anyone who’d listen. It was a trick. A nasty trick.

“So it just happened today?” Todd asked.

Dwight shook his head. “I can’t remember when it started. But, I know for sure when I was home in the summer it was all grey.”

“Huh.” Todd said, arms slumped over the armrests of his chair. “Weird.”

Dwight looked around the room; chair aside, everything was still kind of grey in the room. His own side was more colourful than Todd’s for godssake or else he’d suddenly think the curse had lifted. He could see the brightness of the plaid on his Supernatural poster; the jewel colours of his books; the little rainbows that the crystals threw from the daylight on them. Todd’s side in contrast was dull; muted hues with barely a shade to them. Maybe he’d just not changed it up since he found his soulmate; but, he’d had this stuff for ages. Morgan always vowed he’d dress like a clown as soon as he found his soulmate- why only use greys if you could appreciate so much more?  

He heard himself speaking, “When did you start seeing in colour?”

Todd smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were a hazel-green. He’d known that. How did he know that? “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

“I’m trying to figure it out.” Dwight said, sitting down on his bed with the incense burner, holding it out like the teak would protect him. “Everyone says you see your soulmate, and everything is suddenly focused. That’s how it was for Reed and Shane- they knew right away.”

“It’s a little more complex than that.” Todd said, turning back to his laptop.

“Are you talking about broken connections?” Dwight asked. He’d heard about one-way connections. People shrieking in delight as colour flooded their vision, only to have the other stare at them confused. That had happened to his Uncle Ford. He’d gotten over it, but there was a reason he’d never married. There were a lot of exceptions, like three-way connections, potential connections, or the complication of natural colour-blindness; but his mother said he would never have to worry about it because he and his soulmate would know the moment they laid eyes on each other. But, a broken connection… did that happen to Todd?

“Maybe.” Todd admitted. “It might have happened to you.”

“I’m under a curse. At least since the start of term.” He said, pensive over the possible fae candidates.

“Then I’ve been under a curse since freshman year.” Todd said, starting to type; like he wasn’t really interested in the conversation. He couldn’t hide the regret in his voice, creeping through the nonchalance. “I saw… I saw him when he arrived at Windsor, and I have to say I didn’t expect it. But, well, even after getting to know him he still saw grey.”

“Who was it? Do I have to kick their ass?” Dwight sprang up, “I bet they’re the fae! No way you don’t have a two-way bond! You’re awesome!”

Todd paused, looking away. “Yeah, no. I don’t think it’s them.”

“Well then, I’ll get Sadie to curse them! Or I’ll find the real fae; they’re probably holding your soulmate’s colour hostage.” Dwight declared. “It’s probably something like that.”

Todd shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve got everything under control. I’ve got these contacts; they make it all-”

“No! It’s not fair.” Dwight knelt down next to Todd’s desk. “Whoever is doing this to you, I promise I’ll figure it out. Because I refuse to believe you have a broken connection. It’s not right! You deserve someone who cares about you; who gets you like a soulmate is supposed to. That’s the whole point! So whenever you’re lonely, there’s someone you can go to. Or whenever you’re happy, there’s someone who can make you laugh even louder. Or whenever you’re scared, they’re there to make you feel brave. And like, you do that all for me and you’re just my roommate- whoever they are, they’re missing out!”

Todd stared at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” What. What?

Todd looked between mad and frustrated, raising his hands from the keyboard before closing the lid. “Just, ah, just leave me alone okay? I don’t want to talk about it. If you’re convinced this is a fae, you have Trinny’s email. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to talk!” Todd snapped, grabbing his laptop and going into the washroom. “If you want to pee, go out the window for all I care.”

The lock clicked. Dwight looked between the open window and the two locked doors. What had he said?

No matter. He had a fae to hunt. Whoever Todd’s soulmate was, he would have to wait to put them on Sadie’s curse list until after he got the colour out of his eyes. He took another look at the greys of Todd’s side, a soothing balm of soft colourlessness in the confusion; it really was almost like he could see greys again; remember any loneliness was not permanent. He’d find his real soulmate, and so would Todd. He was sure of it.

[poisener]

ELLE    &     GWEN  :  TWO FRIENDS TORN APART ONLY TO BE BUILT BACK UP AGAIN  :  a mini essay on friendship    &    more . 

       this is gonna be a semi - long ass post    &     hopefully one that is articulate    &    not some garbled mess but here we go .   i have a theory /  inkling about elle & gwen and it’s that they were ACTUAL FRIENDS at one point but had a vague falling out , i.e.  exhibited in the way that gwen’s circle of friends   ( god i don’t really know the girls names except erica & madison so forgive me but you know which girls that are always over at her house  .  ) treat /  regard elle .          elle is perceived as quiet  (     she herself has said she is sensitive /  doesn’t like change     )  ,         i personally write her as having some form of anxiety (    most likely a sort of social anxiety   )      &      people      (     especially girls who run in packs     )     don’t like things they don’t understand /   other girls they can’t control or ‘ figure out ‘ .        elle is one of those girls .  she’s pretty enough to be perceived as a threat by the girls who have hunky    &     potentially stupid boyfriends that would cheat on them  (   clark, jason , etc  ) .  she’s talented enough to be envied  .   she’s determined    &    strong enough to hold her own against people who would speak ill of her   ( though she always seconds guesses herself     &    probably doesn’t think of a comeback until after a situation  ) .  

GWEN’S GROUP OF FRIENDS  .  

     in episode 2  “ our to.wn “  we see elle getting ready for something,  she’s putting on makeup  ,   picking out what one might consider a nice dress, wearing accessories , case    &     point she’s making an effort.  she’s making an effort to distract herself from the dissolving world around her.  she comes up to the house   &    is turned away by one of gwen’s friends told to “ go”  after elle urges that she just wants some company.  the girl then says  “  why don’t you try one of your friend’s houses ??? “  .     at first glance, this is just an obvious reference that she’s a loner .      she has no friends . she has secluded herself from groups . but i think here , beyond her trying to make an effort in this new world , this might have been her old group of friends.       though she’s never been considered the most popular or running with the likes of harry /  kelly ,    she might have been friends of their friends,  mid level acquaintances / tolerated if you will because one of the people in this friend group genuinely liked her    &     i think that person might have been gwen .  

one thing that i did notice    &    that might be deemed insignificant by others or seem as far fetched is how they decorate their rooms .  gwen is in gymnastics /  possibly cheerleading     &     elle is in ballet  / other forms of dance .  they both hang their gymnastic accessories / cheerleading bows    &    ballet point shoes up on the wall straight in a row , as close as possibly to their bed or on an adjacent wall .  now, you may be saying ?  well , a lot of people display their competitive sports / trophies like that but i say ,   like minds think alike    &    i believe either gwen    &    elle were civil and knew each other from shared classes or shared sports / dance centers OR their parents were friends and thus they decided to decorate their rooms the same .  i think there’s some sort of shared /  history and bond between them .   another possibility is that gwen tried to integrate elle into the friend group    &    no one else really liked her so what did gwen do ? she badmouthed her ,  she possibly talked shit about her to her boyfriend who then told jason    &     luke who then told helena who then called her a thot in the hallway.  and yes,  that does seem like a silly / trivial thing in a show such as this to bring up but i think it was significant enough point to be made be elle    &    helena to bring up the past . words hurt especially when you don’t deserve them    &     they come from someone you respect or someone that doesn’t even honestly know you.  helena probably said it in the heat of the moment, there were probably rumors about elle floating around ,  vicious hurtful rumors or “ locker room talk  “ by clark    &     the other guys .  guys who would be influenced by their girlfriends perception of another female . 

now onto how gwen’s friends treat elle (  EP 2  thru finale )  .       they treat her as someone to be ignored . someone to scoff at . someone to pick on so they won’t get picked on by the god tier high school rich kids .      it’s a those who are bullied bully others mentality .     or those who don’t understand someone /  won’t take the time to get to know someone end up making fun of them mentality .      ex.   at prom when elle’s dancing mostly by herself but in their vicinity , the one girl with the wavy hair sort of rolls her eyes /  gives her friend a “ wth she’s fucking weird” look that normally would hurt elle but the girl in the red dress encourages her to dance / grabs her hand    &     twirls her around , this is also the scene where seconds later she bows in front of campbell    &     then they dance to a slow song later on.   it’s pretty sad to realize she probably got ready in her house alone while gwen ,  helena    &     the other girls all got ready together .  

this brings me to the other major theme in this essay that i think     ELLE    &     GWEN ARE BOTH CLOSETED BI’S OR QUESTIONING    &     SOMETHING HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM.   from like episode 4/5 or whatever on  ,  gwen is seen distancing herself from clark     &     she is seen QUESTIONING OTHERS RELATIONSHIPS    &    HER OWN RELATIONSHIP IN THIS NEW WORLD.  

elle    &    reaching out to gwen /  gwen’s friend group  :  

in the church in ep 1 she can be seen sitting close to kelly    &    gwen .  

ep 2 ,  she goes to gwen’s house only to get turned away . 

ep 3,   she gets excluded from the church all girls meeting .  

ep  3.  in the cafeteria, before campbell gives her the prom dress,  she is seen hesitating when seeing gwen, lexie    &    the other girl on those risers in the cafeteria.  gwens looks over for a split second ( so does lexie i think  )    &    elle ultimately chooses to sit by herself for fear of being turned away once more . 

ep 4 , after elle proposes movie night to kelly   &    elle attends movie night by herself ,   clarke    &    gwen walk her back to campbell’s house .  elle even mirrors her own words in ep 2 saying “thanks for the company guys. “ the company she so wanted in ep 2 but was denied .  gwen also lowkey picks up on the off vibe between elle   &    campbell ,  not only because she probs thinks campbell is a creep but because she knows elle personally . there’s a brief flicker of concern right after c kisses elle   &    starts petting her head . yeah, anyone could be weirded out by this but i think she showed genuine concern that a friend would have seeing another friend in this situation . 

ep 9 after the pie poisoning  ,   helena takes elle in     &     elle ultimately leaves helena’s home because she doesn’t want to put her or their other friends in danger. 

  ELLE    &    GRIZZ TALKING  (EP 2 )  /   GWEN    &    GRIZZ TALKING ( EP 1 thru THE FINALE  )      yes,  i don’t think it’s a coincidence that both girls are seen opening up   /  talking about intimate issues with grizz, the other half of a gay m/m couple who are completely the softest in all of new ham  .  grizz approaches elle unprompted in episode 2  “ our town  “  (  cause he’s a nice guy and he could see she was uncomfy  )  when she’s seen on the fringes of the fugitive game .  grizz tells her that everyone is scared    &     sometimes a silly game makes things better, she says that she doesn’t think it’ll help her much    &     she admits that she thinks GOD IS PUNISHING HER .      when i first rewatched  / heard this i was like “ oh she’s talking about campbell “  but i realized we don’t really seem them  together until later on in that episode where campbell  solidifies his choice with her /  they go to prom in the later episodes .   i think that elle thinks god is punishing her for SOMETHING SHE DID RELATED TO GWEN’S FRIEND GROUP OR FRIENDS  .   

quotes from gwen or instances where it seemed to be coded towards her questioning not only the world around her but her own sexuality /  curiosities . 

“  we might have to marry them one day, i mean ,  who else is there ?”   ---- gwen  in ep 2 after the fmk game where they talk about the boys.  

idk what ep but when she just randomly brings up that seth guy.  idk it reeked of “  lol boys like me . i like boys.  i met one once that i’m totes gonna get with later energy “   when everyone knows that’s a damn lie.  i think she overcompensates a lot when talking about guys  / making inappropriate jokes or playing fmk  , etc. 

when helena    &    gwen are getting ready for prom , gwen tells her that she wasn’t even going to go to prom with clarke. their relationship was already over in her mind    &     she was moving on .  she also asks helena about luke    &     them staying together saying ,  “how can you be so certain?” , ALSO , when she mentions stan/ford    &    says there are so many people  “ hot people. hot surfer people . you don’t think you’d be curious?”  got my bi antennas going WAY UP cause she totally could have said “ hot guys / dudes, etc. “   

she also says “  luke wasn’t just the best you could do for now?”  which is how i think gwen views her relationship with clarke    &    the small town that they are in    &    now the current situation they’re in . 

okay but grizz    &    gwen’s whole interactions in the finale screamed questioning / curious to me because g reading thoreau really fucked up gwen i think espc the whole  “ and not when i came to die, discover that i had not lived . “  i.e.  gwen not discovering / exploring her sexuality / her place in the world. 

gwen cuddling g  /  trying to lowkey put the moves on him    &    then grizz admits he’s gay to her.  

“ are you gay through    &    through or mostly gay?”  yeah, that’s insensitive wording    &    ignorant ,  but to her ,  it’s an honest question cause she’s curious about grizz . i wholly believe this was also a hopeful asking for her in terms of “ wow i guess that could be me too eventually?”  like i think she has so much respect for grizz so to see him out here living the best life he can and accepting who he is and telling her about that like  idk i just read that scene of it really opening up her world views /  the possibilities of life as someone who is questioning things. 

TLDR   ;    ELLE & GWEN USED TO BE GOOD FRIENDS . THEY   ARE BOTH QUESTIONING THEIR SEXUAL IDENTITIES  & PLACE IN THE NEW WORLD . THERE WAS SOME SORT OF FALLING OUT THERE I JUST  KNOW IT. GWEN & HER FRIENDS WEREN’T JUST BEING MEAN GIRLS, THEY WERE BEING MEAN EX FRIENDS  .   

[f-l-writes]

Even In Death

Warnings: Major Character Death

Word Count: 3.2 K

To: @wxngyxkhei

Hope you enjoy and feel free to request!

Things always happened in unpredictable and mysterious ways. Perhaps the keys you lost and didn’t find until after an accident happened on your route to work were signs from some sort of higher power. Or maybe it was just the subconscious. Either way, it was something that showed that there’s always something watching over you, be it yourself or whatever God that you believe in.

Or maybe it was someone who died who looked over you. Someone who cared so much about you in life that they couldn’t bear the thought of dying and leaving you alone to deal with it on your own. That little thump in the night might not be the house or a monster in the closet at all. Maybe it was your great-grandfather or a friend. Maybe it was someone older than that just looking over you because they followed the line of their grandchildren and so on.

We don’t always realize the things that stop us from getting hurt or even stop us from getting into little mishaps. We don’t always realize that there may be something there and, for the case of one, there is this failure to realize that she is never alone.

Haley had been at the site of the crash her boyfriend, Aaron, was a part of. At first, she hadn’t known who was in either of the vehicles but she had been far too shocked to move as the large, dark blue Ford truck came barreling through the intersections and into the smaller silver Maxima. Honestly, if the crash hadn’t been so horrific, the crumpling of the front half of the Maxima would have been almost cartoonish.

However, that wasn’t the case. It was obvious that whoever was in the smaller car wasn’t going to make it. There was no way in hell anyone in a car like that would survive that crash. It just wasn’t feasible.

When the ambulance arrived, Haley was still at the scene of the crash, her mind going a thousand miles a minute as she watched them recover the body from the car. What she saw broke her heart into a thousand pieces. Pulled from the wreckage was Aaron’s mangled body.

There were shards of glass in this face, neck, and arms. He was cut up nearly beyond recognition. He was clearly not breathing and his body was completely limp. It wasn’t until they had produced the body bag that her body sprung into action and she was by the ambulance in an instant, staring down at the body of her now-deceased boyfriend.

As one would expect, tears were falling, some dropping from the bottom of her jaw while others snaked down her cheeks and throat, leaving their temporary stain behind. Her mind was blank except with the grief that had swelled inside her.

This shouldn’t have happened to him. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this! If there was some otherworldly force, why the fuck did it allow this to happen to him? He was at the peak in his life! He was loved and he loved many. He wasn’t that old and he was happy. Above it all, he was happy. Despite the hardships he and his group had gone through throughout the years, despite the years of training, despite the arguments that arose between him and Haley, he was happy.

So why did this happen to him? What could he have possibly done in his life that would lead him to such a grisly death? He didn’t deserve it! His friends and family didn’t deserve to deal with the news of it! He had so much more to live for… but it was all cut short because some jackass couldn’t just fucking wait at a stop light.

Haley hadn’t even noticed the paramedics who had pulled her away from the body of Aaron, talking to her in that voice that mimicked empathy but, on the inside, she knew they didn’t care. This was just another day in their lives. For her, this was crushing but they could never understand that, could they? They would never have to see the one they loved get brutally killed in a crash or, for lack of a better thought, murdered by some reckless asshole.

All Aaron knew when he came to was that he had been driving down the road and now he was in Haley’s house, sitting on the couch. The world didn’t seem completely there and, if he was going to be honest, he didn’t feel completely there either. Everything seemed fuzzy from the noise of the barking dog to the sound of the T.V that had been left on.

Standing from the couch, which the feel of leather had also been muted, he shut it off. It had really become a habit at this point. He knew how often it happened and he was usually the one to turn the device off when Haley forgot to. Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the thought, a warmth that he recognized as love towards the woman filling him.

However, when she came walking through the door of her home sobbing, that feeling faded into concern, his heart-shattering at the thought of something so horrible happening that it would leave her this way.

Walking over, Aaron wrapped an arm around her, hoping to comfort her a bit only for her to tug her jacket against herself tighter and walk to her room. Frowning, the male followed behind her, pushing the slightly closed door open so he could try to figure out what was wrong with her.

Just when he had thought he had finally been recognized, based on her look of mild shock, he was just as quickly shut out as she stood and walked through him to close the door. He had felt her shiver in cold as she passed through him both times and the sudden realization had hit him. He wasn’t alive.

Panic had struck him like a freight train and he wasn’t sure how to deal with the information. A memory of the crash had broken through but otherwise, he was left in the dark about whether or not he died on impact or at a hospital.

In any case, he was confused about why he was here in Haley’s room now. Wasn’t there supposed to be some afterlife other than remaining on Earth? Or had it been with his sheer want of hoping to see Haley day in and day out that had kept him around, making him, in a way, her guardian spirit? Either way, the spirit of Aaron knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that she was able to live a full and happy life with himself no longer being in the picture.

While Aaron knew that she would one day move on to find someone else to live out her life with, he also knew that he would remain around until the end of her days. Maybe that was going to be his purpose in the end. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to die so soon and he was meant to at least live out a decent portion of the rest of her life watching over her.

Watching Haley cry made him want to go to her, to comfort her. But he knew better. He would just be a gust of chilly wind, looked over until he could find the energy to become a visible figure. He knew that he would just become a bump in the night for her but, for him, he knew that he would be trying to show that he was still there with her, forever and always.

With a knock at the front door, Aaron moved out of Haley’s way before following her to the door, only to see the rest of his group mates, including Min Hyun, standing there. Each one had eyes as red and puffy as her own and it was clear that they were there to try and comfort her as well as themselves.

Aaron truly felt horrible for the whole ordeal, a slight feeling of guilt entering him as he watched them filter into the woman’s home before surrounding her in a large hug, an attempt at comfort. Had it been him who hadn’t been paying attention or had it been the other driver? If it had been him, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to forgive himself for as long as he was just a hovering spirit.

The now-deceased member of NU’EST stepped aside as his friends began to filter farther into the house. He dimly heard them talking about trying to get Haley’s mind off of the death of her boyfriend while preparations for his funeral would take place over the next week or so.

Aaron shuddered at the thought of being able to see himself going into the ground, wondering how his body would look dressed up, skin paler than ever and his chest failing to rise and fall. Would his parents request his body to be buried back in California or would they leave him to be buried in Korea?

He had no doubt that after a period of mourning, his group would have to continue their promotional activities and, on a far more unfortunate note, Haley would be left to deal with losing the man she had spent the last four years of her life with.

Deciding to leave the group alone, Aaron wandered off to the guest bedroom that he used to stay in during the beginning of their relationship. He didn’t quite want to hover and possibly cause a feeling of discomfort, so what better place to go than to where he used to spend a lot of time? It almost felt cliche to go there, as though he really wasn’t anything more than your resident haunter.

After a while, he noted the closing of the front door and the steps that were coming up the stairs, prompting him to slip into her room, hoping that he may be able to garner enough energy to show himself to Haley, even if it was just once while he stuck around. As he watched her lie down in bed and curl over onto her side, he wondered just how to do pull energy from the electronics around him.

Closing his eyes, he set his focus on that and, after a minute, the light in the room had gone off. With it came the expected what the fuck? from Haley as she stood to go turn on the light again. Aaron kept at pulling energy from the surrounding electronics until he felt confident that he had collected enough to show himself to her, even if it was only by talking.

Taking a deep breath, Aaron projected the energy out with a sigh, hoping that this wasn’t for naught.

As Haley turned away from the light switch after jiggling it a few times in annoyance, she jumped as she heard an all-too-familiar voice in the darkness. Nothing was really there, she was able to convince herself that much, but the voice was so… real.

Look, I know this is crazy and I don’t have long to say this but I just want you to know that I’m here. I’m always here with you, Haley. No matter what.

Like that, the voice was gone. She may have been able to put it off as nothing more than her imagination but it seemed too real, alongside the freezing cold that seemed to envelop the room as well.

Shaking her head, she gave the light switch one last flick and watched as the light came on, flooding the room with a much-needed brightness after being scared almost out of her skin. Walking back over to her bed, she huddled under the blankets, trying to ignore what happened. The coldness had increased since she had settled herself into bed and, in the back of her mind, she could believe that it was Aaron. However, the logical part of her just had to assume that it was the AC acting up rather than some paranormal force.

Closing her eyes, Haley let herself fall into a fitful rest, her dreams plagued by what had happened earlier. She had woken several times throughout the night before going back to sleep. The chill had remained steadily through the night, only to leave when morning came. It was almost a disappointing feeling but she was glad that she was no longer freezing her ass off when it came time to get up and get ready for the day.

“I could call off work,” she muttered to herself, “but I need the cash and no amount of grief can stop me from lessening my hours.”

Sure, it wasn’t the best thing to do. After all, grieving properly is a good thing as well as getting things off of one’s chest after such a horrific event but wouldn’t it be better to just deal with it? After all, death of all sorts was simply a part of life. Why bother being sad over something inevitable when there were other things to worry about?

As she finished getting ready, she accepted the cold chill that had come back into her room, ignoring it as best as she could before grabbing her keys and getting out of the house, leaving her unknown and ignored spirit behind her.

Aaron was more than elated to realize that he could leave the house to follow Haley. However, for this day, he wanted to leave her alone. He felt that there wouldn’t be anything that would remotely be dangerous that day and, if anything, he would only make things worse. He knew that, eventually, he would have to prevent her from going out one of these days but today was not that day.

Letting out a sigh, Aaron wandered around the house, wondering just what he could do. He had no idea if he could visit the dorms or not and, if he could, would he just stumble in on his former group mates mourning? Or would they have made like Haley and just pushed themselves through it?

Whatever it was, Aaron wanted to find out his limits as a spirit.

Amazingly, he found, he was able to go back to the NU’EST dorms. Upon entering, he was greeted with the sight of them sitting on the couches in silence, no one looking at the other and rather just basking in the tense silence. Walking over to where Jong Hyun was seated, he stood beside the man, mildly aware of how cold he had made the room with his presence.

“You guys are so dull,” he muttered to himself, knowing they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“I get I’m dead but damn, lighten up.”

It was almost nice to be able to talk to them without them hearing. He would pretty much always be able to vent if he needed to and no one would be able to hear him. Definitely a plus to being an invisible being.

“Can one of you guys turn on the heat?” Dong Ho questioned, looking over to the others.

“Why don’t you do it if you’re so cold,” Min Ki scowled, lowering himself into the couch.

Dong Ho visibly rolled his eyes before standing, walking over to the thermostat, turning it up a bit in an attempt to soothe the chill in the air.

Aaron was amazed at the fact that they had all become so cold towards one another with the untimely death of one of their friends. Sure it wasn’t the greatest thing to have happened to them, especially considering they just got Min Hyun back from Wanna One, but it was still shocking that they weren’t consoling one another and rather bottling their feelings and snapping at one another.

Shaking his head, Aaron turned to walk out before Min Hyun spoke up, speaking the deceased’s name.

“I really don’t think Aaron would like us acting like this, guys. I get it’s hard but… shouldn’t we be trying to talk to one another? About future things? Helping Haley? Helping ourselves?”

“What does it matter? Everything will fall back into place. She’ll move on. We’ll continue with our activities, he’ll just be a skeleton in the ground.”

“Jackass!” Aaron spoke aloud, looking over at Dong Ho, the man who had spoken.

“Still, shouldn’t we at least try to do things to remember him how he was in life?” Min Hyun shot back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright fine, what do you suggest we do then, Min Hyun?” Dong Ho’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and the younger male’s face dropped as he turned away from the elder, falling silent.

Aaron scowled as he looked at Dong Ho before picking up, successfully may I add, a pencil from the table and throwing it at Dong Ho. The eraser end struck his chest and the others all looked to the center of the room like they had just physically seen Aaron.

“What the hell…”

“Do you think…?”

“No, that’s not possible. There shouldn’t just be souls wandering around…”

With that, Aaron tried to pick something else up, only to find it near impossible. Instead, he opted to roll something across the table instead.

“We need out of the house,” Min Ki suggested, standing quickly.

The others followed suit after, each one quickly making a leave while a mass of cold air followed them out the door, only to disappear as Aaron decided to make his way back to Haley’s awaiting her return from work.

Haley had only dealt with the cold spots for the weeks following up to the funeral and the two weeks after it. However, it had all quickly changed after getting dressed one night to get ready for bed and making her way into her room, only to see the near transparent figure of Aaron sitting on her bed, looking at his hands.

Almost as though he had sensed her presence, he looked up and gave her a ghostly smile before gesturing her over. Cautiously, the woman moved closer, eyeing the spirit before her and wondering if this was real or not.

When he spoke, however, that question had been put to rest.

I know this insane, but trust me. It’s me. Like I said before, I’ll always be here. I need you to believe that because if you don’t, then my reason to be here would be next to useless. I’m acting like a guardian angel until your own death… I don’t know when that will be but I’ll be by your side throughout it all. You can count on me.

With that, the figure of the man faded, though the cold spot was still there, signaling his presence and prompting Haley to speak, though her voice was the slightest bit shaky at seeing the non-mutilated version of her boyfriend once again.

“Aaron, I… Thanks for sticking around. You could be living with a much better afterlife than watching over me but I appreciate it. I really do. I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend- neither in life, nor death. So thank you.”

With that, the woman went to go lay down, the cold spot only moving over in her bed, almost as though Aaron had decided to lie down with her, much like he had when he was alive.

Although Aaron was no longer alive, he was still there. And, like he had said, he had remained until Haley died. Once he was sure she would no longer be in danger, he finally felt comfortable enough to pass on and meet her in the forever ambiguous afterlife.

[callowaylilys]

it was now a couple of weeks since he last heard her voice, a couple of weeks since he read that letter. apparently, no one, not even her sister knew where she went and that seemed unbelievable to him. she wasn’t returning his calls, his text messages. if she wanted for him to leave her alone, he would have, but he needed a reason. something more than the stupid letter she left them. how had he not realized that something in their relationship was wrong? jason thought back, to how their relationship started, to the battles they had to go through. to the abortion. he knew that took a toll on her, and it hurt him to know she did it. she did it for them, because it wasn’t the right time and he hated himself for it and while he was hating himself, he was ignoring how she was feeling inside. she was bottling it all up for him. 

“i’m so sorry,” he said out loud, wanting to tell her face to face, because he should have known, he should have known that she needed to let go, that she was holding their entire family on their shoulders. trying to get him out of jail, trying to be a mother for their children. working. giving him money. she was doing everything for him, and when it was over -- he thought everything went back to normal but, he didn’t realize until now just how wrong he was. it was her turn to take a breather, it was his turn to hold her down, to tell her that everything was going to be okay and he didn’t. he just expected her to be okay. “god, jason, how could you be so stupid?” he murmured to himself. to finally get the love of his life, to have that second chance they deserved, and for it to come undone in a matter of months.

if he could only talk to her, if he could only hear her voice and tell her that he was sorry, that he was stupid, that he should have known. he should have noticed that something was going on with her and he should have been there for her.  

the man stood in the middle of her closet, looking at her carefully placed things as their children slept.  “i’m so sorry, baby...” he said again, standing there, the ghost of her still in their room, in her closet.  “i’m so fucking sorry..” 

the babysitter having arrived interrupted his thoughts, quickly wiping away the tears from his cheek as he cleared his throat. the man said goodbye to his children, placing a kiss on each of their foreheads. “i love you,” he murmured, “daddy’s gonna get her back. i promise.”

the man left the house, he made his way towards his office. he was determined to find her.  he was determined to talk to her, to tell her that he was here, that he was always going to be here and that if she needed to talk, he would listen. he would listen and they would get through it all together. 

then the phone rang and he answered and her voice came blaring through his car and if he could jump from joy at that moment he would have. “ba ---” except, he couldn’t get a word in. so he allowed her to talk, he allowed her to do her speech and he would reply and he would tell her he loved her too, and that he was here . that he should have known and he needed her too. alongside him. forever. that her pain was his, her sadness was his and he would take it all, endure everything for her, forever. and that’s how it was always going to be because jason ford was nothing without mia davis and no way in hell were they not gonna end up together. there wasn’t a world where that happened. 

he was going to answer, he wanted to answer. he chuckled in between tears, because god he was so happy. so happy to hear her voice. to hear her talking to him. to know that they were going to deal with whatever life through at them together. he would marry her right now in town hall right. right now.  “amelia, listen to me, wh --”

his phone fell. 

he went to grab it. 

he didn’t see it.

he didn’t see the truck. 

he didn’t see the red light.

there was only black.