#fawna: *sigh* i was SUPPOSED to be

[cowboyshit]

Make the World Stop Spinning

Ship: Hangman Adam Page x Fawna Rose (FOC), seen previously in Some Real Cowboy Shit (NC-17), and Stay the Night (NC-17) Summary: Directly following the episode of Dynamite which aired on January 12th, Adam is awake at night thinking over the message left by Lance Archer and what it means for his future championship reign. Rating: General? I think? Nothing really happens. Just some chatting. Warnings: Lots of angst, no proof-reading this one-shot (it’s getting thrown into the wild with the same chaos with which it was born - in that I mean I got really emotional about adam and suddenly wrote this out of nowhere) Length: 1,863 words

Available below the cut

He heard the shift of her body as it moved under the plush hotel comforter behind him. The peaceful hitch of her breathing had changed as she woke up, and he listened for the inevitable moment she slid her hand to where his body was supposed to be and found it empty and cold. “Adam?” Her soft, groggy voice called out for him. “I’m right here.” He said softly into the dark. “Oh.” Relieved his voice had been so near and then, “What are you doing?” The rustle of the sheets as she likely poked her head out of them and frowned, seeing him sitting on the ground at the foot of the bed. “Why are you on the floor?” He didn’t answer because it wasn’t easy to. He licked his lips and lifted his shoulders, opening his mouth to just say it, but the words didn’t come out. He was staring at the belt on the table in front of him. Or, more specifically, he was staring at the superfluous diamonds catching the moonlight across the bold logo for the company he now represented, making it almost appear to glow. His mouth closed and he breathed out a hard sigh from his nose. The bed creaked gently under her as she re-positioned herself. He heard her come closer and felt the bed move as she settled next to him. Her fingers gently pressed into his blond curls, gently massaging his scalp. He finally managed to close his eyes and stop staring at the belt. For a moment Adam just concentrated on how nice it felt when she touched him. Then he said, “Don’t worry, I haven’t been drinking.” “I wasn’t worried.” She said, and he believed her. After everything she’d seen him go through, in and out of his life because he could never quite quit her, she just kept believing in him. In his ability to do what was right. In his potential as a champion. As a man. When he was angry and bitter and wanted the world to hurt like he did, Adam had done and said some fucked up things to hurt her feelings. She’d left him a time or two to his misery, made him sort things out and not let herself get caught in the cross-hairs, but if and when he ever really needed her, she’d been there. When he’d been ashamed of letting Dax and Cash get in his head and fuck with the Bucks, she’d let him put his head in her lap as they laid in his hotel bed. When he’d lost to Kenny that first time at Full Gear, she’d been there to let him close out the rest of the world and forget how lost he felt, even for a night. When he’d finally learned to accept what the crowd had been saying, what his new friends had been saying, what she had been saying - that he was worth the championship spot after all - she had been right there with pride bright in her eyes and obvious in her wide, toothy grin. When he’d won the belt, she’d sat with him alone in his hotel room as he finally broke down and cried over the reality of what the accumulation of that night had represented. She had even been standing by him, hand on his shoulder as he clenched and unclenched his fist, sitting in the medical room and stewing over the time-limit draw with Danielson. No matter the storm he was, she seemed to know when and how to weather it. Adam had accepted a long time ago he might never feel worthy of the love she gave him, but he was too greedy to let it go. One of the things he’d had to work through and learn as the Dark Order taught him how to find friendship in the strangest of places was also where to find love in the strangest of places. With her. Fawna Rose, the swinger he’d accidentally drunk e-mailed almost forever ago. Just like that, she’d become woven into his life. Into his story. Adam sighed and opened his eyes, lifting up his hand to gently cover hers. His fingers wrapped around hers and squeezed gently. She squeezed back and he smiled. “How long do you think I’m going to have it?” His softly accented drawl was just loud enough for her to hear it, laying on the bed behind him. “The belt?” She asked, even though he had a feeling she’d already known. “Yeah.” “I don’t know.” The pad of her thumb idly skimmed his calloused hand. “How long do you think you’re going to have it?” He sighed. “I don’t know.” Silence again. She had always been good at letting him work through his thoughts and seemed to know when to speak up to push him and when to let him sort through it quietly. His lower back ached and he resisted the urge to reach back and rub it. The pain pulled him to what had restlessly pushed him out of bed in the first place. “I just don’t want to be a joke.” “Who said you’re a joke?” “No one, it’s just…” he trailed off, then turned his head so his troubled green eyes could look at her, “look at the three men who had this belt before me, who were each the face of All Elite Wrestling when they held it.” “Mhm..” she nodded, but arched a brow prompting him to continue explaining what he was getting at. “They had such long title reigns. They defended their belts against the best and yet, the belt stayed theirs. I almost lost the fucking thing the first damn defense I had.” “Almost, but you didn’t. Plus, you won the second match.” He grunted. “I know, but now…” That troubling ache in his back again. This time he slipped his hand away from hers and bent it behind him, tenderly pushing his fingers against the bruise there and hissing before pulling his hand away. “Now I’ve got Lance Archer. Putting down Danielson for a second time damn near killed me. How many of these fights do I have in me before I’m just not good enough? How much of a joke of a champion am I going to be, you know? Am I even going to hold this damn thing for over a year?” He gestured up at the belt which he now felt was glittering somewhat mockingly down at him. “Do I even want to go through a whole year of having this target on my back?” He sighed and dropped his head. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint…” “Who?” She prompted softly. He was quiet for a little longer than he meant to be. His throat felt tight with emotion. He cleared it and remembered to take a breath. “Kenny.” He turned his head a little to look at her again. “I know it’s stupid and it shouldn’t matter since we aren’t friends any more, but I don’t want him to have dropped this belt to me only for me to make a joke of the whole thing. What if he gets back after he heals up and finds out I was only able to hold onto it for a few months before I let someone take it out of my hands?” “That’s not going to happen.” “You can’t say that for sure.” He knew he wasn’t getting anywhere with such pessimistic thoughts, but Adam couldn’t help himself. “Alright, fair…” She trailed off a little and the bed shifted under her as she lifted her hand and gently tapped his temple. “But none of this is going to help you. Remember what you said when you got that belt?” Adam tilted his head and glanced side-long at her. He tried not to get distracted by how pretty she was but even there, no make-up on and her brown hair all tousled from sleep, she made him want to catch his breath. “Remind me,” he beckoned. “You said you were just going to try to be the best version of yourself that you could be, and that each new day you’d have a new problem that you’d have to rise to and figure out how to overcome. So, today is a new day and Lance Archer is a new problem. Figure it out.” She said it gently and kindly, as she always did. Adam smiled and looked down at his hands, then nodded. “You’re right.” He was always so caught up in his own head he forgot to just take it day-by-day like he needed to. The truth was Lance had scared him. Danielson had scared him. The unwavering faith the AEW audience had in him scared him. “You’re not a joke, Adam.” She said the words soft, but with meaning. “You’re not going to be a disappointment to Kenny, either. But this reign is yours and no one else’s. Don’t spend your time comparing yourself to who came before you, just focus on what you have right in front of you.” The hotel bed gently creaked under her as she moved forward enough to lightly place a kiss on his temple. “Come back to bed,” she beckoned in a warm whisper against his skin, then pulled herself away. Adam stayed sitting where he was, staring up at the belt, as she re-positioned herself back in bed. The same daunting heaviness that had pressed at him when he’d been looking at it before was gone now. Or, not exactly gone, but shelved somewhere in his mind where it felt more manageable. He smiled mostly to himself, then slowly unfolded his body from the ground with a few choice groans. The aches and soreness were still present from the “message” the Murderhawk Monster had decided to leave him with, but his heart didn’t feel quite as heavy. Adam slid under the sheets and knew his anxieties weren’t magically at ease. He could breathe easier and maybe finally get some undisturbed rest, but there would be another bump, another challenge that eventually made him face them again. But, for now, he pushed his arm under his pillow and behind hers, rested his cheek and looked over at her in the dark, and those fears that’d been keeping him up didn’t seem as daunting. With his free hand he reached over, framing her cheek with his palm and skimming the pad of his thumb over it. She smiled and then turned her head just enough to kiss his hand. Then, she turned her head back to rest on her pillow. “Goodnight, champ.” Her voice nearly had the quality of a purr to it and it immediately twisted his smile into something a little more devious. “Careful now, darlin’. I’m sore as hell but that isn’t gonna stop me from getting riled up.” She scooted a little closer in and he did too. His eyes fell down from hers to her lips, then he leaned forward and turned his head to press his mouth full against hers. He swore, and not for the first time nor the last, that the whole damn world stopped spinning.

[btsinwonderland]

A Drop of Poison - Ch. 4: An Invitation

A Loki fanfiction!

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“You’re late!” Valkyrie said, stuffing a pancake into her mouth as you approached her table in the Great Hall. “And you look like shit.”

You could feel the papery dryness of your eyes. Each blink felt grating. “I didn’t have a great sleep…” you said, hoping that your face did not give away the perpetual embarrassment you felt every time you thought about what happened the night before.

“Was it the dream again?” Valkyrie said, handing you a plate she filled with hash browns and eggs.

You took it gratefully. “No, I...went to the restricted section of the library last night,” you said, looking down at your plate. An image of Professor Laufeyson’s bare chest flashed before your eyes and you nearly dropped your fork.

“What!” She spoke so loud that several of the people surrounding you and at the other tables glanced at you both.

“Shhh! Don’t be so loud,” you whispered.

“You went without me,” she said, stuffing a mushroom into her mouth.

“It couldn’t wait, but I didn’t even find what I was looking for,” you said.

“And what was that?”

You were about to speak when you saw Professor Laufeyson enter the Great Hall. You nearly choked on your hash browns when he glanced at you. “I have to go,” you said and ran out of the hall.

You did not look back, and you did not stop walking until you realized you were back at the library. Your subconscious seemed to have a sense of humour that you did not find particularly funny. As you stood at the door like a deer in the headlights, someone nearly body checked you to the side as they entered the library.

“Out of the way, mudblood,” he said. His blue hair was striking in the daylight.

“Watch it, Talon,” you said.

He turned to you with a glare, then he smiled coldly and walked on.

You nearly rolled your eyes straight to the back of your head. Talon, the one person you would not mind using one or two of the unforgivable curses on. Just a bit of the Imperious to make him wet his pants in class, maybe? Nothing too awful. You still remember the way he laughed when he stuffed you and one other student into a Shrinking Shed in a pawnshop in Knockturn Alley. It was only your second year, and you berated yourself for trusting any wizard that said they “had something cool to show you” since that day. The poor boy you were stuck with broke his arm and may have broken the other, lest Professor Heimdall had not come by the shop; by that time the shed was half the size of a fridge. You still hated confined spaces from that day onwards.

He walked towards a blonde Slytherin girl trying to finish her homework at a large table. She looked less than pleased at his interruption. You rolled your eyes and moved on.

Your thoughts drifted back to the previous night as you headed to the back of the library. And just like that, it transported you into a completely different head space. Professor Laufeyson. You thought about his smooth skin and the way the moonlight glinted off the sweat on his body.

Thinking of him like that put you in a sort of daze, where you were so embarrassed you thought you might die but also so intrigued that you could not stop yourself from wondering. You paused where you were and gazed at the restricted section. From there, you could see the table where he had...relations with Professor Sif. You remembered her panting and writhing in pleasure. The entire night you had thought about only one thing. What did that feel like?

You knew how your own fingers felt, and despite how wonderful that was, you had always been curious about something more. Valkyrie had described it to you in visceral detail several times. She had said that if the person knew what they were doing, that it could be amazing. Higher than high. But if the person only cared about themselves, it could be quite awful. From the looks of it, Professor Laufeyson knew what he was doing.

Something about him felt different. Enticing. The way his lean muscles flexed as he gripped the edges of the table and the way his eyes glowed. Heat coursed through you, and the muscles in your stomach tightened. You had not been this bothered in all your life and had a fleeting thought of whether there was a way to quit Potions class. You rubbed your eyes and face. The book. That was what you came here for.

“Are you alright?” A sweet voice said.

You opened your eyes; it was Pom. She was carrying four large textbooks and placed them on a study table between the aisles.

Putting on your most convincing smile, you said, “I’m fine, I was just looking for a book.”

“Oh? What one?” she said, her eyes lit up.

Pom did frequent the library. Perhaps she could be of use. “It’s about cats, common spells for cats.”

She gave you a look.

“No, I’m serious! I just really love cats,” you said. It was not a lie, though you preferred reptiles.

“Well, where is it supposed to be?”

You thought about how to put it. “Well, that’s the thing. I was informed that it would be in one place, but it’s no longer there. And I don’t think anyone checked it out.”

Pom thought about it for a moment. Then her eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s a switcher!”

“Switcher?”

She nodded with an excited smile. “I’ve only ever encountered one of them. But there was once a book that my brother and I were looking for. I heard it was the journal of a student who created their own spells. And I think we found it, but right before Ken could pick it up from the shelf, it faded and disappeared. About two months later, I saw it again, on the other side of the library. I reached for it, but it disappeared. I talked to one of our senior prefects and she told me there’s a rumour about books in the library. Apparently, some of them like to disappear and reappear. Nobody knows how to catch them, but there’s a theory that they’ll come to you if you need them.”

You raised your eyebrows at the thought of disappearing books. Of course the book you needed to find was evading you. “So if I need it badly enough...I might find it?” You said.

Pom nodded with an unsure smile. You thanked her as she picked up her pile of books and wandered off to study.

A bright pink guide on potions stood out as you looked at the shelves. Flora and Fawna for Beginners. You sighed. This was going to be a long day.

So you roamed. You roamed the bookshelves for hours, reading every title, every author name and every little scroll in the cabinets. It was tedious beyond belief and you stopped to rest a few times. After your third hour of wandering the library and receiving strange looks from the students you passed by for the thirtieth time, you sighed and sat right on the floor, in between the Magical Creatures and Astrocentric Religions sections. Your stomach rumbled from hunger and you wondered if it was time to give up yet. So much for your investigation. It felt quite less glamorous when you were at the start of it and all you could muster up was sitting on your bottom with an empty stomach and dry hands.

You looked out the window at the end of the aisle; the day was overcast again. It has been raining non stop this season. You got up, defeated, and ready to find some food. Suddenly, there was a sharp bang on the window and you turned to see what it was. A dark smudge was streaked across the glass and you walked up to it for a closer look. You nearly jumped a foot in the air when another bird flew into the window. It fell and you could not see where it landed, but you wondered if it was dead.

A few more birds banged into the windows, and other students got up from their chairs to see the disturbance. One girl gasped so loudly that the librarian had to come over and calm everyone down. The librarian looked at the windows and grumbled to herself as she went out to inform someone of the mess.

You walked across the aisles to observe the other windows, and each one was streaked with a dark red stain. As you walked by the first year selection of books near the front of the library, you noticed in the corner, on the bottom shelf there was a new title. Something you had not noticed before. The spine was dark red and your eyes widened at the title “Spells for the Common House Cat”.

Nearly diving for the book, you crouched down and grabbed it, thinking it would disappear right before your eyes. But, you held it in your hands and yelled out a “yes!” This earned you a shush from the students who were studying.

You were so elated to read the book once you returned to the common room that you nearly ran into the door as you exited the library. It was already an hour past dinner at the Great Hall; you imagined Valkyrie had stuffed her face full already and probably wondered where you were. You picked up your pace and raced through the halls with meat pies on your mind and the book in your hands. The texture was of a smooth aged leather, with odd scratches along the spine and cover. The writing on the cover was a rushed scrawl with black ink and you flipped through the inside, only to see pages and pages of the same hurried writing. There was one passage that caught your eye:

Informed though we may be of my house we are not warned to eat live snakes. Wish you well my balloon animal friend. Did you know hats wore cow bells on their noses? Bells bells bells! Nasty business wandering through the dry sun. If there is one watered down lion to know, it’s Muriel and her tacky shoes.

You were so perplexed you said aloud, “What the fu-”

A hard body stopped your momentum, and you fell right on your rear onto the floor. The book fell out of your hands and you rubbed your nose where it was bumped. “I’m so sorry, I-” You looked up and your mouth went dry.

Professor Laufeyson was standing above you, with your book in his hand, and his eyebrows slightly raised. You saw the recognition in his gaze as he assessed you and a whisper of a smile appeared on his lips; it disappeared again into his usual stoic expression. You remained on the floor and stared at him for several seconds, as if you were paralyzed.

He reached down and helped you up. “We keep bumping into one another, don’t we, Miss Eves?” He said, throwing you a smile that almost knocked you down again.

“Y-yes, I suppose so.”

He handed you the book, glancing at the title. “Interesting literature, is it for your classes or for pleasure?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Just for fun.”

“Ah, and is this a title you found in your evening forays into the library?” He said, leaning close so you could see the flecks of lighter blue in his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat. He knew. He knew. Oh god. He knew. Your mind made a split second decision.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” you said, gripping the book tightly against your body.

Professor Laufeyson chuckled and leaned against the wall, further away from you. You breathed a little easier. “It seems that a student has been out of bed and has seen things she should not have,” he said, crossing his arms. His eyes looked down at you with a mocking sort of sternness. “It could lead to expulsion…”

You held his hard gaze, not denying anything but not giving in. It seemed he was testing you, checking your resolve. You took a silent breath and looked right back at him. There was no way he could get you into trouble without admitting his own faults. “I wonder what the protocols are for teachers and acceptable behaviour on school grounds?” You said, sticking your chin up and thinking you sounded more like an insolent child than anything else.

He smiled widely. “Ah, very good, Miss Eves! Worry not. If I wanted to expel you I would have had Professor Sif handle it,” he said.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I don’t plan to,” you said. You finally lost your resolve and looked at the floor. Your cheeks heated at the thought of him half naked. “Th-thank you for not letting Professor Sif see me.”

“Miss Eves, it is simply water under the troll bridge. Though, I have a bit of a favour to ask of you,” he said. “Perhaps we can call it even then.”

You glanced up, and he had moved away from the wall and was now standing a couple of inches away from you. “Yes, sir?”

“That envelope you gave me was an invitation to dinner with the Headmistress and Professor Odinson. That’s just where I’m headed now, in fact. And I would love for you to accompany me,” he said, holding out his hand like a gentleman.

You stared at his hand, and then up at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

He smiled and reached over to your shoulder, guiding you to follow him. As you both walked, he said, “To be completely honest with you, I just hate these family reunion dinners. Terribly awkward. It would be a pleasure to have you there.”

“I’d hate to crash a dinner party. I’m sure Headmistress Frigga just wanted a family affair. Plus, I’m not even hungry!” You said, and then your stomach growled most viciously. You looked down at it with a look of betrayal.

“It will be fun, I promise. Rainbow umbrella,” he said.

You realized you were already at the Headmistress’s office as the statue of the gargoyle began to turn. “But sir,” you started, but he smiled at you so disarmingly that you could not find any words to deny his request. He grabbed your hand and led you up the steps and you were sure that this was an awful, terrible idea.

[tooloudinmymind]

💕 + Fawna: Under which circumstance would your muse fall in love with them?

The second Adira’s gay ass set eyes on Fawna she was sighed, sealed, and head over heels. She started flirting the moment she had a chance and found to her delight Fawna was interested and thought Adria didn’t look half bad either, the rest is...well coming I suppose.