#he can solve a rubix cube in under three seconds

[dragonjesterwrites]

"Sun is smart" "Sun is dumb"

May I suggest: he's both. Think about like, someone with a PhD trying to microwave their tinfoil wrapped burrito after a long day in the lab. That's Sun to me.

[the-witching-ash]

🌟 + Richie?

@ginevrastilinski-ocs asked for him to!

1) In all honesty, Richie’s never actually liked any coffee at all, which just leads to it being another thing Lorelei never understands about him.

2) Used to have a crush on Lindsay Lister - in his canon verse they’d been friends since they met in Patty’s classes and where each others main dance partner’s all the way up until his sports injury & he retried, which led to him developing a crush on her but he was to scared of admitting it and ruining their friendship, eventually moves on from it.

3) Cuts Rory out of his life for a long time after finding out she slept with Dean.

4) Loves how everything looks in winter after it snows but hates driving.

5) He’s not really a picky eater, but the texture of tomatoes is something that gives him a big ick. (With things like pasta or pizza sauces or tomato soup he’s pretty much ok, salsa has to not have chunk’s, but also hates the texture of ketchup.

6) Likes to occasionally indulge in junk food as a treat, but won’t eat junk food (or most food) in the same quantities as Lorelei as Rory for most of the time living with them he was in dance, skating or sports and needed to watch his diet.

7) worked a bunch of odd jobs around Stars Hallow starting age 12, Luke highers him at The Diner as soon as he’s old enough.

8) Can solve a rubix cube in under 30 seconds. (Started off with 5 minutes when he got his first one at eight, had continuously been trying to break his own record since.)

9) Can’t imagine living anywhere that doesn’t have all four seasons.

10) has had his left leg broken at least three times - age six when trying to climb a tree at recess on a dare by older boys and a branch broke, his ACL after his football injury, and again when he’s in the car-crash with Jess instead of Rory.

[suchagallabitch]

all eyes on you, my magician

Carl gets a magic kit. Ian somehow ends up with it when and is definitely not great at tricks.

based on the word prompt: magic by @sunoficarus

read on ao3! or undercut

Magic

/ˈmajik/ noun

the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

Carl had picked up the weird habit of taking up obscure hobbies and interests. When he was younger he liked to blow torch things, trying to melt all his toys together. As a teenager his obsession became girls and well, still blowing shit up. But now as an adult he found himself getting bored easily. He had been striking out in the love department recently and deciding that he was fine being single for a while. This unfortunately left a void of boredom in Carl’s life.

Sure he had a job. Well kinda two he thought, he started working for Arthur at the Alibi since he recently bought it. He was also still a cop. His days were full to the brim but it was the nights that left Carl so bored. There was nothing to do other than watch fail compilations on Youtube and then rotated over to watch pranks on Tiktok till his brain gave out and thoughts were numb. He couldn’t even put his attention into his place. The basement he claimed as his own was also done getting remodelled. That was in large part because of Lip who fully helped flip the disgusting basement in hopes of selling. That never ended up happening but Carl got a pretty sick bachelor pad out of it so that was successful for him.

In his boredom he picked up random skills. Ping pong, solving rubix cubes (which he never could figure out), even picked up knitting for a hot second like Lip and Debbie did. He really wasn’t a fan of the needles constantly poking at his fingers. Carl thought he was never going to find something to keep him from being bored. That was until one day when he accidentally couldn’t skip a Youtube ad. His hands were covered in Doritos dust and the touch screen was failing him. The ad was for an all inclusive magic kit. It piqued Carl’s interest enough that he bought in. Three hundred dollars later Carl found himself with his very own beginners magic kit. He wasn’t half bad at it either, taught himself a bunch of cool tricks.

He eagerly shared this with his family the next time they had their weekly dinner.

“Ain’t you a bit old for magic?” Mickey raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up douchebag, I’m focusing here” Carl stood at the edge of the table. In one quick motion he pulled the tablecloth from under all their plates and glasses to actual success.

“Okay that was kinda impressive” Lip nodded nonchalantly, a few people from across the table nodded in agreement. Franny was definitely impressed.

“Woah Uncle Carl is magic?” Her little mouth hung open, mind blown.

Carl sported a cocky smile, walking over to his niece. “Sure am Fran, guess what else I can do?”

“What? What?” Her legs were drawn under her in her seat, she bounced up in pure excitement.

Carl stood to the side of her, leaning down to touch her ear. “Look what you had hiding in there” he pulled his hand away from the side of her face revealing a quarter pinched between his thumb and index finger.

Her eyes doubled in size, mouth once again dropping open. “What? How?!” Her little hand reached out to grab the quarter, staring at it like it was the most valuable thing she had ever seen.

“A magician never tells his tricks” Carl smirked, ruffling Franny’s hair. “Don’t spend it all in one place” he gave her an over-dramatic wink she didn’t seem to catch. She was too busy admiring the quarter in her grasp, hand kept reaching up caress her ear, in shock that the money had come from her.

“Was that really in my ear?” She looked up at her uncle who gave her a little nod.

“Yup, that’s why you gotta wash them everyday”

That comment was met by immediate eyerolls, booing, some heckling. Mickey even managed to sneak in a snarky comment. “Fuckin cop advice right there”

“Like you’ve ever showered without someone forcing you” Debbie rolled her eyes, attention then drawn to Franny sitting directly in front of her. “Sweetie don’t listen to anything Carl says, he doesn’t know anything” she stuck her tongue out for comedic effect as that usually got a chuckle out of Franny however that night she remained stunned.

“Uncle Carl, if you’re magic, can you make us all a bunch of money so we don’t have to worry about selling the house?” her blue eyes searched Carl’s, pleadingly.

A few adults around the table grimaced, except for Sandy who smirked into her bottle -she could feel the conflict rising and was always game for dinner and a show-. The rest of the -somewhat- well adjusted adults felt bad for the kid so young and already sucked into the Gallagher problems. They supposed that just meant they somehow all had the same childhood. Liam however shrugged the comment off, pushing some vegetables around his plate.

“Well Magic isn’t real, it's all science you know Franny” Liam spoke up. “If you want I can teach you about physics and how-” the entire table groaned, knowing they were about to sit through another Liam lecture.

They did. The entirety of dinner was spent listening to Liam explain all the different concepts he had learned from his favourite science show. The poor kid didn’t have anyone else to talk to about his nerdy interest so his older siblings entertained the conversation, trying to change the subject every few minutes just to have the physic talk be brought back up by Lip, the only one who enjoyed Liam’s laments, getting a round of groans all over again.

That seemed to be the common theme any time Carl learned a new trick. He’d perform it and get semi-amused reactions from his family before they all tried to figure out how he did it. “It can’t be that hard if Carl can do it” Sandy chimed in before tearing apart another one of his acts. Eventually the patronising break-downs of the tricks he tried so hard to learn got to him.

Annoyed with his family and quickly becoming bored of the whole magic thing, Carl had retired from the magic act. He decided he wanted to take up throwing stars which seemed like a much worse plan but he managed to buy them, and a Katana because he found a deal before the family could intervene.

He was done with magic ready to discard the case when Ian was quick to ask for it.

“Why the fuck is Carl’s dumn magic thing in our living room?” Mickey raised an eyebrow at the large striped box.

“What? I wanted was the handcuffs” he fished around the box, pushing all the items to the side once he saw what he was looking for. He pulled out the leather handcuffs showing them off to his husband who gave a slightly reluctant to be playing into this but overall accepting nod.

“Plus don’t you think the magic stuff is kinda cool?” Ian’s eyes followed Mickey’s movement as he went behind him, sitting on the couch.

“Uh no”

“Why not?”

Mickey gave a scoff, having to restrain himself from laughing. Ian sitting cross legged on the floor digging through the trunk. He looked entertained and Mickey didn’t have the energy to squash the kindly interest Ian was fostering.

“I dunno just was never into it, always thought it was dumb”

Ian shook his head at that, eyes lighting up once he found what he was searching for. He pulled out a case of playing cards, shaking them from their box, throwing the cardboard somewhere off to the side. “Look its kinda cool I’ll show you”

Ian’s tongue rested against his bottom lip in concentration as he shuffled the cards. When he was done he swerved around, facing Mickey, stationed behind him on the couch.

“Pick a card, any card” He had that stupid excited goofy smile Mickey loved so much. He rolled his eyes with affection pointing to a random card in the deck.

“Uh that one” he pointed to a fourth of spades.

“Okay, grab it,” Ian instructed. Mickey of course obeyed taking his card and placing it face down on his lap.

Ian reshuffled the deck, picking one from the dead centre. “Is your card a sixth of heart?”

Mickey blinked back at his husband. “Uh, no”

“Wait really?” Ian had dropped the deck down to his lap, face faltering.

“Yeah man, that ain’t it” he held his card up, placing it in front of his husband’s confused expression.

“Fuck!” Ian’s face contorted in confusion. “I for sure thought I had that trick down” he looked down at the cards like they had personally betrayed him. “Gimme your card back I wanna try again”

Mickey gave a little chuckle, handing the card back, watching as Ian shuffled them again. A determined look overcame his expression. “Okay pick again” he held them up once more.

Mickey picked again. An Ace spade this time.

“Is this your card?” Ian held up a queen of hearts.

Mickey’s eyebrows reached the top of his forehead. “Yeah it is, actually”

“Fuck yes!” He dropped all the cards on the floor, hands reaching up in the air out of sheer victory. “Wait, are you fucking with me?” He accused, hands returning to his side.

Mickey gave a full blown chuckle. “Yup”

“We’re doing this till I get it right” Ian challenged, hands reaching across the floor to collect the deck back up.

“Uh-huh” Mickey agreed, back hitting the sofa behind him. He figured he better get comfortable, he was probably going to be there for a while.

His husband was an idiot that he had the pleasure of loving deeply.

Even if Ian didn’t manage to get the trick right, those handcuffs from the case definitely helped to create some magic.

[refuge-au]

>Open the Doctor’s File

Doc: Receive an Invitation

The conference room was small and sparsely decorated, little more than a round table and a handful of chairs in an empty room. The walls were bare, the table empty, and the window that looked out into the hallways covered by blinds.

The window that looked out onto the street, to the east, may as well have been covered too. The only thing visible when you looked out was the greyish hue of smog.

Doc sat in the chair closest to the door on the east side of the table. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his feet were up on the table. He knew his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t fooling anybody, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Etho sat to his right, leaned over the table and absently spinning a rubix cube in his hands. Every so often he’d scramble it and then solve it quickly afterward, seeming slightly disappointed. His left eye was covered in a plain black eyepatch that wasn’t quite big enough to cover the extent of the scarring.

Bdubs sat on Etho’s other side, the drumming of his fingers on the table and the way his eyes flickered from one side of the room to the other every couple of seconds the only things betraying the amount of nervous energy contained inside him.

Beef sat in the last chair on their side of the table, staring at the covered interior window as if he could see through the blinds and into the hallways behind it. His face was expressionless, apparently lost in thought.

No one spoke.

It was the kind of silence they had sat in many times before- part comfort, of being around people who know you better than almost anyone else in the world, and part anxious anticipation. None of them knew exactly what was going to come next.

They had been contacted individually a week or two ago, letters that had no return address slipped under doors or through mail slots. What usually would have been some sort of threat or insult turned out to be a job interview opportunity.

Come to a certain building two weeks from now, the letters read. Tell the receptionist that you’re looking for refuge. Someone will be in to see you shortly.

The most paranoid of the group (Beef) had found out that it was sent by some sort of government official or organization before he contacted the rest of the group to see if they had received the same summons. After a brief discussion, a decision was reached. They would hear out whoever wanted to talk to them.

If things went down badly… as long as they were together they would be able to fight their way out.

Most of the invitation had been true. They found the correct address, and were taken to a room when they asked for refuge… but the person that they were waiting for had not come shortly. It felt like they had been waiting for an eternity- even though his internal clock told him it had only been about twenty minutes.

Ten more minutes, he decided, and then he would leave. If whoever the hell wanted to talk to them was going to be late, they should have told the receptionist to tell them or something. It was basic human decency- although admittedly that did seem to be in short supply these days.

The door handle turned with a click, and four pairs of eyes locked onto it immediately. There was a moment of nothing, and then the door swung open, letting a relatively tall brunette man into the room.

His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, all brown except for a single streak of white from a large x-shaped scar that stretched across most of his face. It was an old scar, very faded, the chunks of white in his hair and his beard some of the only things left to prove that it was there.

He looked slightly winded as he smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hello, gentlemen. Sorry about the wait. There was a bit of a… conflict. Downstairs, and I ended up having to sort it out.”

He walked over to the table pulling off his gloves and unwrapping his respirator from around his neck before sitting down across from Etho and folding his hands together. “So. You all actually came.”

“Did you expect us not to?” Beef asked, eyeing him warily, apparently not recognizing him.

“Of course not! A government official contacting you out of nowhere, asking you to come and meet them? The fact that you have enough faith in humanity to come here, despite everything, without knowing anything about why you’re being asked here… it��s amazing.” He grinned.

“Amazing is one word for it, sure.” Bdubs said, leaning forward in his chair. “But uh, who are you, and why exactly are we here?”

“If you’re going to try to kill us, we’ll give you a thirty second head start.” Doc added dryly. “But no more than that.”

The man chuckled. “We’re not trying to kill you, we’re trying to offer you a job.”

A job?

Before Doc could express his hesitation, the man continued, putting a hand to his chest:

“My name is Xisuma Void, Captain Void to most people, but you can call me X. I’m putting together a crew.”

“Like a boat crew?” Bdubs asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“A spaceship crew. I’ve been given a mission- go to uncharted territory, chart it, and start a colony on a planet outside the solar system.” He extended his hands in front of him, gesturing to the team. “I’d like you to come with me.”

For a moment, there was silence.

“…What’s the catch?” Etho asked slowly.

“Catch?” Xisuma asked.

“We’re not from here.” Etho said, and Beef chuckled. “There’s always a catch.”

Xisuma shook his head slowly. “I don’t think… well… how about I just tell you what the job would entail before we decide if there’s a catch or not?”

Doc looked across the table to the others. Bdubs nodded, Beef shrugged, and Etho set down the rubix cube for the first time since he had gotten into the room. X took that as permission to continue.

“Do you remember all those stories in the news about the government funneling money into a secret project?” X asked.

“And everybody was worried that it was gonna be another war.” Bdubs said. “We remember.”

“They were building a ship for this mission. It’s been in progress for years now, but they’ve ramped up construction in the past several months. The ship will be fully built in three months, and the mission will begin no sooner than six months from now.” Xisuma stood, either ignoring or not noticing the way that the rest of the group tensed when he moved, and began to pace up and down the length of the table. “The ship- the Refuge- will exit the solar system in about one and a half years, and then it’ll be four and a half to eight and a half years til we reach Haven.”

“Haven?” Doc interjected. “That’s the planet?”

X nodded.

“Bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Bdubs asked.

X shrugged, not pausing in his pacing. “I wasn’t the one that named it.”

“So what do you want us to do?” Beef asked. “None of us have ever been to space before. Sure, Etho may have been… built for it, but…”

“You don’t have to worry about the space stuff.” X said, stopping and leaning on the back of the chair he had been sitting in. “Just the landing part of the mission. The way that this is set up, there are two smaller groups within the crew as a whole- the ship crew and the colony crew. While the ship crew will transition into being a part of the colony crew once we land, the colony crew doesn’t have to be a part ship crew. It’s unnecessary, and most of the crew mates don’t have essential skills for the trip.”

“So what does the colony crew do during the flight?” Beef asked, his brow furrowed.

“Sleep.” X responded. “We have two cryogeneticists on the crew that will be maintaining and caring for frozen personnel and assets.”

“Which one would we be?” Doc asked.

X looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t know whether the question was a joke or not. “Personnel… in total, if you decide to take me up on the offer, we’ll have nine people frozen out of a crew of thirty six. Most of the ship can be run mechanically, but we still need the ship crew to oversee everything.”

“And what would we be doing when we get planet-side? What’s our actual job going to be?” Bdubs asked.

“Building, scouting surrounding areas, neutralizing any potential threats, whatever needs to be done, really.” X sighed. “Unfortunately, since a mission like this has never been attempted before, I can’t tell you exactly what we’re going to need you to do. If you accept, I can give you the paperwork that runs through several potential scenarios, but… there’s a lot that we just don’t know.”

“I’m not going to ask you to sign on immediately, but I’d like your responses as soon as possible.” X concluded. “There’s a packet with the receptionist downstairs that has more information-“

“I’ll do it.” Bdubs said, cutting him off.

X blinked. “What?”

“I’ll do it.” He repeated, leaning back in his chair. “It sounds exciting, it’s a chance to travel somewhere without risking being carsick, it’s getting away from everything that’s going on here… and we’re probably not gonna get another chance at this for at least six years, right?”

X nodded.

“I can’t speak for the guys, obviously, but you’ve got one.”

“I’m in too.” Doc decided, taking his feet off the table and sitting up straight. “There’s not a whole hell of a lot for me to do here, not many people that want me here, and somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” He said, pointing a vaguel accusatory finger at Bdubs, who rolled his eyes. “I still want the packet, but I’m in.”

X grinned. “Wonderful! And… I suppose, do you want to make your decision now too?” He turned his attention to Beef and Etho.

“I’ll agree… but I reserve the right to change my mind if we start getting ready and things seem off.” Etho said, picking his rubix cube back up and spinning it on its corner. “I may have been made for space travel, but they kept me grounded for a reason.”

“I agree with Etho, minus the spaceman bit.” Beef said. “Also, can we have your phone number, or some way to contact you?”

Xisuma’s grin turned into a softer, warmer smile. “Everything that you’ll need is going to be in the packets. Welcome to the team, gentlemen.”

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File

> Open the Doctor’s File (New)

> Continue

[gotham-rat]

BRO since father's day is nearby, how would the batfam celebrate it with bruce and alfred (alfred takes care of them sm and deals with their shit on the daily, he's technically a father too imo!!) and how would they celebrate it when they're in quarantine and before when there's no quarantine?? I love reading your stuff anf it genuinely makes me happy and hope u have a great day! ^___^

this made me so happy!!! and wow it’s an amazing ask so thank you anon :)) here we go, it’s a pretty long one:

batfam + father’s day

bruce, without fail, always forgets about father’s day. it creeps up on him every year and every year he’s surprised by his kids. the very first father’s day gift he ever received was from dick-his second year of being robin. it was a very colorful card, with a drawing of a small robin and a big hulking batman. young dick also included 46 cents in change because he thought money was a very high end addition. bruce cried later, softly while in bed. he couldn’t stop thinking about just how much he cared for richard. his little boy. dick, of course, carried on the father’s day gift tradition. cards accompanied by long hugs, cheesy fake trophies for “#1 DAD”, awkward pictures of bruce on patrol in big frames, his gifts remained light, always poking a little fun. bruce keeps every single one.

jason’s first father’s day with bruce felt a little tense. jason wasn’t sure if he could celebrate it with him, he didnt know if bruce liked that type of thing, even though jason himself wanted badly to spend the day with him. so when dick showed up, bearing gifts, and jason saw bruce’s grin, he ran upstairs and pulled out a letter he’d written but wasn’t planning on giving. every year until his death he’d write bruce a long letter. post-death jason doesn’t usually show up, but leaves a small package on the front step every father’s day. it’s addressed to both bruce and alfred and is normally random things. a polaroid of him and a bad guy he tied up, a batman themed card deck, an old batarang he found in a street once, etc.

tim woke up really early his first father’s day, and replaced every picture in the house with one of bruce that had been used as a meme all that year. (it was him at a red carpet event, doing The White Man Pose, awkwardly facing the camera). every year he does something like that, TPing the house, putting googly eyes on the food, etc. bruce finds it absolutely delightful even though he pretends to be annoyed.

damian didn’t really understand the concept of father’s day, so upon waking up and finding the whole crew there, he was pretty confused. when he found out what was happening, he quietly excused himself and proceeded to cry in his room. he felt embarrassed and guilty for not knowing. he wanted to express his great love for his father but he had no idea how. bruce came into his room, quietly shutting the door behind him, and dami wrapped his arms around him and they sat on the bed hugging for a long time. bruce kissed the top of his head and said “thank you.” when damian heard that he asked “for what? I didn’t get you anything.” and bruce said “you’re here. you’re my kid. I’m thankful everyday for that.”

cassie punches bruce in the arm as hard as she can every year. she leaves a tiny fist shaped bruise that hurts way more than bruce will every admit.

barbara always swings by, and takes a pic of bruce and her own dad when she sees him, and then cuts each person out and pastes it together on one picture to give to both of him. on the back she writes “love you dads!” or “batdad and copdad” or “why do you both look so stiff? xx”

father’s day makes stephanie uncomfortable. highly uncomfortable. she certainly loves bruce, but doesn’t quite see him as the father figure most of the others do. she calls him every year though, at 6 o’clock on the dot. sometimes she cries. she thanks him and tells him she’s so grateful to have him in her life. bruce wants nothing more than to hug her, but he knows she doesn’t like being around him on that day, when her mind is filled with thoughts of her own father.

when it comes to alfred, bruce organizes the whole thing with his kids. alfred doesn’t really do much butler work anymore, but he definitely gets the whole day off, dami and bruce cook whatever he asks for, for each meal (and he likes to mess with them and ask for difficult things to make) and tim puts on a suit quite similar to alfred’s and talks with a bad british accent. damian likes giving him father’s day gifts and writing “grand” in front of “father” which alfred absolutely adores. he’s completely showered with gifts, in fact he gets more than bruce does. last year they distributed nerf guns and had a full pillow fort war with him. alfred kicked all their asses of course.

for quarantine this year, things were a little different. these members are quarantined in wayne manor: bruce, alfred, dick (he couldn’t be alone in his apartment), tim, jason (where else could he go), cassie, and damian. (stephs in cali and babs is self quarantining). dick got the wonderful idea of putting on a talent show for bruce and alfred, as a way of celebrating how well the two have raised them. it took a lot of convincing on his part, but finally everyone agreed. dick did a dance number that’s was entirely too long. tim solved not one, not two, but three rubix cubes in under a minute. damian did a little magic show where he was supposed to *cut* off jason’s finger and restore it, only he accidentally did cut into jason’s finger, and there had to be a pause in the show for jason to get gauze and wrap. damian is now banned from doing magic. jason reanacted the door scene in titanic by himself. cassie dares anyone to challenge her to a staring contest. she won everytime.

[hank-mcdankblade]

I Know A Bottom When I See One Princess (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary

Chapter 1: You and Dean have been pals for as long as you can remember, practically raised together. Are things still the same as you remembered when you reconnect with him after a couple years apart? Well there is one thing you see differently and you’re about to call him out on it.

Chapter 2:  After you flirt back with Dean you start to rethink all of your life choices. Why did you flirt back instead of making fun of him? God it would be so much easier if you were just a genderless blob. Hopefully the new supernatural case a friend of your mom’s gives you will distract you from all this romance mumbo jumbo. 

Chapter 3: You and Dean both start to realize your feelings are not what you both originally anticipated them to be. If only you two could actually talk like adults instead of bantering like childish 8 year olds. The case picks up when you see a certain someone’s name over every case, a certain boomer’s name.

Chapter 4: You and Dean do some sleuthing into Chrissy’s apparent death. After learning the truth your trip to Wendy’s/Jack in the Box gets interrupted by Chief douchebag. Rick takes the three of you on a nice drive to the mountains to introduce you to his daughter.

Word Count: 4,697

Warnings: a fuck ton of swearing, self hatred, angst, fluff bits sort of

______________________________________________________________________

        Ever since your little accusation of Dean, there’d been a little tension between the two of you. You were unsure of what kind of tension there was, or if there was even any to begin with. Surely Dean wasn’t upset about you teasing him, he’d let worse things roll off of his back without sparing a thought about it. Despite your doubts, your routine and friendship were pretty much the same in all regards. You still hunted together and made an awesome team. You still ate greasy food at establishments that barely deserved the title ‘Diner.’ And you still sang together to all his old music. So you were probably just over thinking things like you always did, but you still had an inkling that something was off about Dean.

       Black and blue streaks painted the night sky with speckles of stars scattered across the canvas. The street lights outside cast pale yellow rays from the crack in the curtains that hit across the corner of Dean’s bed and stretched up the wall. The rays revealed to you the quilted pattern of the comforter and Dean’s duffel bag thrown haphazardly on the floor with clothes leaking out of it. Parts of the room not in direct contact with the light were in view as well. Traveling up his bed, you could see the curves of his cheek bones as he slept. Dean truly was beautiful. This was when he looked completely at peace, when he was asleep. 

       You turned to your side again, the bed rustling while you did. You had nightmares like most hunters did, but that wasn’t the reason why sleep evaded you tonight. After that night in the bar you basically cemented that you both had feelings for one another. Sure you and Dean flirted back and forth as a joke, but the other night was different. It was more real. What you had before was just your normal relationship. Dean shamelessly flirted with you and you made a joke out of it. It was your go to move to dodge his affections.

       You didn’t really know how to respond to these advances from him, or anyone really at the moment. Your track record of relationships wasn’t the shiniest around and definitely nothing to brag about, most ending in either death or betrayal, but you were mostly scared to make things weird with Dean. He was your bud, your pal, your dude, any nickname that you could call a friend you’ve absolutely said it to him. 

       What would happen if you two did get together? A million and one questions popped into your mind when you thought about it, all ending with the same answer. Nothing good. It would be easier to play his flirting off as a joke to not hurt his feelings because relationships were nothing but trouble from your experience. 

       At first glance you’d think that Dean would never want to settle down and was content to have temporary lovers that lead nowhere, but he wanted what most people wanted, what you wanted too. True love. Pure and unadulterated love. But the bond you two shared was enough for you right now. You were ok with being alone, not that you really gave yourself much of a choice on the matter having sworn off relationships and meaningless nights with strangers. You couldn’t bring yourself to be with someone, not with the baggage you had strapped on your back. If anyone, hunter or not, saw the scar on your back you knew what they would say and the facial expression that would come with it.

       If you let your walls down for even a single moment you would lean closer to Dean and let what might happen, happen. But the growing void inside refused to let you, God if he saw your scar he would look at you with disgust. It’s not the scar that would make him turn away, but the identity associated with it. Across your shoulder blades read a prophecy in Latin, burned into your skin the day your powers were activated. It was a symbol of your power and title. The curved letters created the prophecy of the Slayer reading; 

“In omni generatione, est electus. Una puella in mundi. Et arte vires et solus geram et in surgere viribus a tenebris. Ad propagationem eorum mala prohibere et ad terras eorum numero. Quæ est Slayer.”

“Into every generation, there is a chosen one. One girl in all the world. She alone will wield the strength and skill to stand against the forces of darkness. To stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer.”

       The night you got your scar was still fresh in your mind and could play back like a movie reel. It was an ordinary day just like any other. Your biggest problems were fitting in at your new high school, getting good grades, and avoiding whatever bullshit your mom was going to throw at you, but little did you know you had a big storm coming. The activation of a Slayer’s powers differs from Slayer to Slayer. Some feel nothing, others feel a tickle, but you experienced the worst burning pain you’d ever felt in your life. The moment the imaginary hot metal touched your skin a hellish scream was ripped from your throat. You swore you could feel your skin melt away to expose your bones. The pain was so white and intense that after only a couple of moments your body went limp as a way of protecting you. 

       For weeks the burning pain didn’t go away. The pain and scar served as a reminder that you would never lead a normal life. Never wear a strapless dress or swimsuit ever again. You could never let anyone touch your back. If they felt the raised skin on your upper back you knew they would have questions, and ones you couldn’t answer. It’s not everyday you see anyone with a large brand on their back, or a brand of any kind. But after the reveal the reactions were the same, eyes filled with pity and hands recoiling from disgust. 

       Dean would react the same way. He would look at you just like your mom did, nothing but a demon. I mean that is where you got your powers from as the Slayer, so you had to be a branch on the demon family tree. Dean hated demons more than anything in the world, so where did that put you in his eyes? Embers in your heart started to light at the thought of being related to scum, to vermin. Thoughts and fantasies of a normal life poured gasoline onto the fire until it burned away your entire existence. 

       “God damnit.” Hot air left your lungs as you sighed. The cardboard sheets of your bed pooled around your waist as you sat up. Your eyes were seemingly staring at nothing while you pondered what the hell to do now that you were awake. Your heart felt deflated like a popped balloon, crushed under the weight of your reality. 

       You would give both your legs and your entire movie collection to be able to sleep right now and forget about the harsh world outside the warm cocoon your hotel room proved to be. The desperate need to just sleep was choking you, making tears prick at your eyes.

       “Hey, you ok?” Had you been more awake, Dean’s sudden interjection would’ve made you flinch. Your reflexes and actions were much slower as you turned to look at him lying on his back. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him half asleep, hair fluffy and eyes barely open. 

       “Would you believe me if I said yes?” You asked in a rough voice. Your fingertips ran through your hair pulling it out of your face. Your eyelids fluttered closed in an attempt to concentrate on your breathing. Dean was taking his sweet time answering you. His eyes were scanning over your form. Your chin was perched atop one of your knees, arms around said leg while the other was stretched out under your covers. Your skin had been hardened by years of hunting, fingertips riddled with callouses from the weapons you’d handled. The only parts of you that were soft were hidden from sight. Dean also bet that your cheeks were soft, he had never had the chance to touch them but someday he’d like to. If you allowed it he would be able to stare at you for hours, trying to solve you like a Rubix cube. For the most part Dean could tell what you were thinking and feeling without second guessing himself, but there were always moments he was unable to read your body language. 

       He’s seen you in this state before, not too often but every once in a while. It was almost as if you were a statue, unmoving and barely talking. Whenever you were quiet he knew something was up. It was terrifying when you were quiet. At the pit of Dean’s chest an ache began to grow, he felt this way whenever he saw you like this. Physically there was nothing he could do, no mountain he could push or villain to defeat. This was something you had to work on your own in order to heal, and he understood that. But it didn’t make it suck any less watching you torture yourself internally when you were hit with these episodes.

       “Need some company over there?” You held your breath for a moment mulling over Dean’s question. A familiar touch caressed your mind. This wasn’t the first time you’d been in this situation before. Nothing registered as contact on your skin, it was just numb.

       “Yeah, I do.” Wordlessly, Dean padded over to your bed and lifted the covers. The shadows on his body moved with the light from the street lamps. There was a silent pact you two had to never bring up these nights, nights where you both needed some human contact with no questions asked. 

       Nights like these began after your activation. Dean had never seen you so upset before. As a teen he had no idea what to do, he probably still didn’t know now. But he knew that being held helped you and your mother was sure as hell not gonna do that for you. She was always too busy hunting with John. Truly those two were cut from the same cloth. Without the guidance from your parents you sought comfort in each other, and thus your silent pact was formed. Neither of you knew what the reason for this silence was, but nonetheless you kept it. Dean laid on his back with his arms open inviting you in, reminded of when you two used to do this before you left. 

       Feeling your head on his chest felt like home. A gentle surge of energy made his skin hum as you wrapped your arms around him. If there was anywhere Dean knew he was meant to be, it was here. 

       “Goodnight sweetheart.”

       “G’night.”

       And for the first time tonight, you actually slept.

       Once the morning came around you and Dean were already on the road heading towards another case, Colorado to be more specific. You got a call from a friend of your mother. Her name was Jen and she worked as a park ranger for the Grand Mesa National Forest near Grand Junction. During the past couple of weeks, people had gone missing with no evidence left behind. Jen knew that this wasn’t a bear attack like the police claimed, so she called you and Dean for help. Of course you both accepted excited for a new adventure. 

       The Impala roared across the black pavement, kicking up rocks and zooming past trees so fast the leaves shook. In your opinion, the day was perfect. All across your part of the hemisphere the temperature was starting to drop. It was early October and the snow was starting to fall in a beautiful light drift, letting the wind decide its path. The ground was dusted with white sparkles that glittered in the sunlight. The snow wasn’t thick enough to build igloos out of just yet, but it was just thick enough to stick to the ground. You closed your eyes trying to absorb the environment’s good energy. Somehow you convinced Dean to roll the windows down and here you were with your head practically out of the window taking it all in. You were never sure why, but something about the cold air woke up your bones. Dean would always claim it was because you ran hot and then wink at you. 

       The negative energy was evaporating into the air to be turned into a beautiful white mosaic. The wonderful weather made you think that maybe someone was looking out for you. Maybe someone out there saw your rough night and decided to give you a break. Whatever the cause, you weren’t going to question it and were going to keep singing along to the Blue Oyster Cult CD Dean had in.

       Dean looked over to you and committed the image to memory. No matter how many times he saw your smile it would never be enough. You were stretched out in the passenger seat with your shoes kicked off and jacket thrown in the backseat despite the low temperature. Seeing you beside him in the Impala brought on a flood of old memories. Dean wasn’t able to count the number of times Sam, him, and you drove to get ice-cream and dick around town just to get out of whatever motel you were stuck in at the moment. The three of you were inseparable as kids, always hanging out or messing with each other. But everything came to an end once you both turned eighteen. 

       By the time you had become the Slayer, your relationship with your mother was already strained. She was not the fuzziest person around and was certainly not fit to be a parent. The way she ended up in the hunting business was the same as John. Her husband got killed by demons and the rest was history. From then on she dragged you along on all her hunts and after a couple years she ran into John Winchester. The two made a surprisingly good team. 

       Your mother, Caroline, was always off putted by your existence it seemed. It was as if you were a burden to her, just extra luggage to haul around that reminded her of her late husband. There were never any bed time stories or hugs, just life lessons and the occasional pat on the back. At fourteen you considered yourself to be independent. You cooked for yourself, you took care of yourself, and with the help of Dean you were able to raise Sammy up to be a productive member of society. (Or dork as Dean would like to say) Your mother was barely around so it wasn’t a surprise that you grew up faster than you should have, but things only got harder after you received the call of the Slayer. Caroline resented you for what you were, even if she never voiced her opinion out loud. Her words were sharp and responses were short. You knew what she thought about you.

       Dean never understood how a mother could do that to her child, her only child. Mothers, parents in general, were supposed to protect their kids. The day you left Dean swore he could feel his heart break in two. But as much as it hurt him to see you leave to start your own life in the big world, he knew why you needed to. He knew that you needed to get away from your mom’s abuse and passive aggressive attitude. But none of that mattered because you were here now and Dean was incredibly thankful to whoever brought you into his life again.

       A violent buzzing on your thigh stole your attention away from the beautiful weather today brought you. You sat up from your seat and reached your hands forward, clasping them and stretching until you heard a few clicks from your joints. You stifled a yawn as you looked at your phone. “Hey Jen, yeah we’ll be there soon. No, no don’t worry. Alright. See ya.” Dean glanced over to you, silently asking you if everything was ok. “Jen’s just being paranoid. She thinks the police are gonna know that we’re up to something nefarious.”

       “What does she think we’re gonna do? Show up holding a sign that says ‘Hey we’re definitely going to murder someone?’”

       “You never know, those could come back in style.”

       After another hour of driving, the Impala rolled onto a gravel driveway connected to a log built office. As you stepped out of the car the crisp air of the forest nipped at your skin waking you up. The gas and pollution of the cities made you appreciate the fresh air and scenic views before you. As far as the eye could see there were only trees that looked straight out of a Hallmark movie perfectly covered in snow. For the last month all you had seen was gray buildings. It was suffocating how many people squished themselves into one place that they called home.

       Dead leaves and rocks crunched underneath your feet as you walked into the Park Ranger’s Office. A wave of hot air rushed past your cheeks as you stepped into the heated building. It was simple in structure having only four rooms, a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom and an office. The aesthetic was just as you had imagined it would be. The walls were covered with nature paraphernalia everywhere, with samples of tree leaves and forest fauna tacked onto poster board naming the different parts of the organism. Other parts of the wall were covered in maps and pictures of memories from years and decades ago, like a life size scrap book. The heels of your boots clacked against the wooden floor giving a signal to the workers inside that they had some company. 

       “Hello?” You called out. It’d been awhile since you saw Jen, so you weren’t sure what you were going to get. But after a few moments your voice was met with clunking boots and a familiar face. 

       “(Y/N)! Dean! Thank god you’re here, I’ve had enough of all the spooky shit going down here and would like to go back to fearing bears instead of monsters.” Jen said bounding towards you two with a smile. In her hands she was holding a manila folder that had papers sticking out in all different angles. You smiled feeling her bubbly energy, feeling yourself start to charge up a little after such a long drive. 

       “We’ll get you back to fearing those bears in no time. What do you have for us?” You asked stepping closer to get a look at the file Jen prepared, with Dean following your steps.

       “The disappearances have been happening for years and only during the late fall and winter season, but no one talks about it.” Jen huffed out. She leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed.

       “The police usually just show up, ask their questions, and never do anything to solve the cases. Always claiming it’s bears. But I call bullshit, because bears only kill people when threatened or if they’re messing with their cubs. I doubt that many people would be stupid enough to play chicken with a bear. And even if they did end up dead bears bury their prey and feed on them until completely gone, but we haven’t found any evidence to support that claim. No body, no bears.” Jen’s description of the case was strange. Both you and Dean were already mentally working on a list of creatures to rule out in your hunt. 

       “Have you seen or smelled anything strange in those weeks?” Dean asked. He was thumbing through the file to see pictures of the site of the crime, narrow footprints on the ground, and trees scratched with bloody long claws. Jen looked at the ground, pulling her brows together in concentration as she thought back, willing her memories to give her some sort of clue to what happened here. 

       “Not that I can think of…” For a moment it looked like something clicked in Jen’s eyes. “Although….”

       “Yeah?” Jen shook her head again dismissing herself. “Anything will help.”

       Jen pulled her lips tight before answering you. “The claw marks I’ve noticed on the trees are odd.”

       “How so?” Your partner asked stepping in.

       “It’s not a huge difference from regular bear claw marks, but something feels off about them. The claw marks feel less like territory guarding and more like a result from an attack. If that makes any sense, they’re less precise.” You and Dean shared a look, almost as if you were telepathically sharing the same idea. Your gut was telling you already predictions of what was terrorizing the woods, but you wanted to get all the details before you jumped to conclusions. The case seemed like a pretty open and close shut one. You were about to thank Jen when the office door suddenly swung open. After a moment of panic, Dean quickly picked up the case file and hid it in the confines of his leather jacket. The door swung back hitting the wall with a loud smack revealing an older gentleman in a police uniform. His face was grim, every crease in his face probably from frowning so much. Your eyes looked to his breast pocket with the name tag, ‘Rick Sullivan, Police Chief.’

       “Ms. Clinton, you’re not scaring the locals again with your fairy tails are you?” The policeman’s voice lacked any humor or sarcasm whatsoever. From the cadence of his words you could tell that this wasn’t the first time Jen had this conversation with him. Jen’s body language switched. She stood up straight with a stoic look on her face. Oh yeah, they had definitely met before. Jen bit her tongue, wanting so badly to tell him off and reveal to him the true nature of this world and watch as his face morphed into one of pure terror.

       “Not at all,” Jen said, clipping her words as short as she could. “just telling these kids that now might not be the best time to go hiking. Ya know, what with the disappearances and all.” Her eyes narrowed slightly with a fake smile. She couldn’t help but get in at least one jab before the conversation ended. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. But at least with this option she was able to do what she wanted, regardless of the consequences. The police man, now known as Rick from his name tag, clenched his jaw. Tension built up into the air as the two stared at each other for a moment.

       “Just some bears getting their energy out, nothing more than that. But regardless the department needs to check all the bases and I need the sign in form.” Jen breathed deeply, most likely to stop herself from saying anything else and walked out of the room to get the clipboard the office left out at the entrance on a pedestal for guests to sign in at.

       “Is everything ok? We heard there were some people who went missing here.” You asked casually slipping your hand into Dean’s. The rush Dean felt from your skin touching his made his heart beat quicken. That familiar hum of energy traveled up his arm and dissipated into the rest of his body. He knew you were only doing it to protect your cover, but it still didn’t fail to make him nervous. Feeling some sort of magnetic pull, Dean moved closer to you. You would be lying if you said that playing this role didn’t feel natural to you. It was odd how easily you could slip into the role of a fake girlfriend, holding onto his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder.

       Rick shook his head and sighed. “Nothing so dramatic happened here. We just have a few residents that like to stir things up and make trouble where there isn’t any. As long as you don’t hike where you shouldn’t be you should be fine.” He stated this like it was such an obvious fact that even a mouth breathing four year old would be able to see it. Rick seemed to think highly of himself, towering over you two in condescension. To him you two were just some dumb kids looking to cause him grief.

       “Are you sure? We read that there wasn’t any damning evidence that pointed to a bear attack.” Dean butted in. Your grip on his hand tightened almost as a warning to get him to cut the attitude he was sporting. If it wasn’t in his voice, you could see it all on his face. Dean’s eyes were locked on Rick with his lips pursed. Of course that shit head had to have at least one word in on this, his personality wouldn’t have it any other way. He always had issues with authority, something you thought he picked up since he was always under John’s thumb.

       Rick could sense Dean’s snarky attitude a mile away and reciprocated. His posture straightened even more, if possible, and he pulled his shoulders back. “Son, I’ve been on the force for damn near forty years. I think I know a bear attack when I see one.” You were sure if Dean uttered another word Rick would have him arrested just for being disrespectful. Truly the police chief before you was the epitome of the angry baby boomer’s generation, and Dean was just another millennial in his eyes here to ruin the diamond industry by spending all his money on avocados or not getting married. 

       You tugged on Dean’s arm wanting nothing more than to get out of here before the situation escalated. “Hey love, why don’t we head home and come back another time?” You  asked leaning into Dean, affectively playing the part of the girlfriend. The two of you had everything you needed from Jen to start working on the case, and if you had any more questions you’d call her. Guess she wasn’t kidding when she mentioned over the phone that the cops around here were twitchy. Dean couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips looking at you clinging onto him. Fake or not he loved being able to have these moments with you. 

       “Sure thing sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes followed your figure as you lead him out of the door to the office, ignoring anything Rick Sullivan had to say to him. 

       Once you knew you were out of ear shot of the asshole back in the office you felt the need to speak up brewing inside you.

       “You are going to get us arrested with that smart mouth of yours.” You poked at Dean. Looking over to him you saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t regret a word he said. You both walked in sync to the car with clasped hands, no longer safe from the cold outside. 

“Well my mouth could be doing other things if you want sweetheart.” Dean tugged on your hand, pulling you to him with a smirk. Your laughter filled the air as you shook your head.

       “Like what? Complain and bitch about the cold? You are pretty good at that.”  Rick’s crotchety behavior was long forgotten by the time you two got in the Impala. Yet again your rapport with Dean remained the same. Maybe harmless flirting was just your friendship and you were making too big of a deal about it. Analyzing your history with him did remind you that this dynamic of yours had been going on forever. Nothing came from it then, so maybe nothing will come from it now. The two of you settled back into the Impala to start yet another adventure into the supernatural world. 

[your-anxious-nightmare]

Adventures In Dad-Ing (12)

Summary: LOGAN’S BACK!!! Logan is in a bit of pain but superhero Roman to the rescue.  Word Count: 2370 Relationships: Prinxiety, Platonic/Almost Parental Roman and Logan,  Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven,  (because I know this has problems, look up the tag ‘adventures in dading’ or ‘dad virgil’ on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them) Tags:  @katatles-the-fish   @karma-the-tax-collector    @analogical-mess   @rebeyerfdog  (ask to be tagged xoxox) Warnings: Abuse mention, Blood mentions, Panic attack/Sensory Overload, I wrote it how I remember feeling it (i normally don't remember it) so it’s not necessarily accurate but be careful just in case.  Ao3

Logan was a smart child. 

He could recite pi to the 50th decimal, solve a Rubix cube in under a minute, and knew his 12 times tables. 

He also knew his family wasn’t normal. 

It wasn’t normal when his step-father locked him in the basement when he forgot to do the dishes or when his mother slapped him for speaking too loud. It wasn’t normal that his bed was a pile of old rags on a torn foam mattress or that he had to wear second-hand high neck sweaters to school even in the summer. 

But he didn’t know how to change it.

He was scared to ask for help because he didn’t know what to say. He was scared he’d be taken away. He was scared they wouldn’t listen. 

So he hid it all. He wore long shirts and claimed to be clumsy and only spoke when spoken too. He kept his interests to himself, learnt to sneak food after dark, made friends with the boy around the corner so he had somewhere to get away too. 

Of course, there was always the Casey’s when he needed a hug or to get away for a few hours. 

So after his father had stopped attacking him for burning their breakfast, he snuck out the door and headed down the road, wiping his tears with his sleeves and smearing the blood further across his dark skin.

As he walked down the street, he pulled his hood up to hide his face from the neighbours working in their gardens and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He probably looked more suspicious that way but at least they wouldn’t judge him too harshly. 

When he reached the Casey household, Logan knocked lightly, waiting a few minutes before knocking again. But no one came. 

So he sat on the doorstep, arms folded around his middle and tears quietly falling into the new cuts on his face. 

He sat there for hours, slowly moving closer to the door as the sun made its way across the sky and left him in the cold, huddled against the wall and bored out of his mind. It was nicer there, alone, then it was at home so he wasn’t complaining. 

It was 5 pm when a car pulled into the Casey’s driveway, Patton jumping out of the back before the car had even stopped and running to the ball of child he called his best friend. 

“Logan!” The boy yells, falling to his knees in front of his friend, carefully unfolding his arms from around his knees and pulling him into a gentle hug. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I just had to leave.” Logan whispers, burying his head into Patton’s shoulder and wincing as he brushes against his collar just a touch too hard. Patton looks up as Virgil and Roman climb out of the car, both with worried looks on their faces. 

“Logan, you are always welcome here, no matter the time. I’ll put a spare key under the flower pot for you in case we aren’t here again.” The father walks over, kneeling by the pair of boys as Logan looks up. The blood had dried to his face long ago, eyes red from the tears that now stained Patton’s shirt as well as his own. 

“Let’s get you inside to clean you up okay?” Virgil unlocks the door as the boys stand, Patton helping Logan inside to leave the adults to talk. 

“Do you want me to go home, Virge?” Roman takes his hand, squeezing it lightly as he watches the man continuing to stare after his son. 

“I think I’d like if you stayed, I just don’t know how Logan will feel. He doesn’t know you and he’s hesitant enough to talk about it with me, let alone a stranger.” He turns to face Roman, both concerned and mildly afraid. Without a word, Roman pulls him into a hug, holding him tight before Patton returns to the door.

“Dad, Logan said there’s some mail in the letterbox. Is Mr Phillips staying?” Virgil pulls away enough to face his son. 

“Is Logan okay with him staying?” Patton just nods, a small smile on his lips. “Then, it’s just up to you.” 

“Let’s go help your friend clean up while your dad gets the mail.” Roman lets go of his boyfriend and takes Patton’s hand, entering the house while Virgil treks across the yard. He waves at the couple next door, the youngest happily drinking coffee while their boyfriend tends to the garden, and takes the collection of envelopes. 

Shuffling through as he walks inside, it's all the usual stuff. BIlls, promotions, a pamphlet for the pizza place in town. The last letter, however, makes him freeze at the door to the kitchen. 

It’s a plain white envelope, with his name printed on the front and an ‘Urgent’ sticker across the top. He tears it open, finding a single sheet of paper and a piece of cardboard to keep it straight. It’s his court date, the first hearing for the custody battle over Patton. 

It’s scheduled for a Sunday. 

Could he get Roman to take Patton for the day? Tobias might be free to babysit, it is a weekend and one of his normal workdays. Would Remy be able to come along? Should he take Roman instead? Is he even allowed to take someone?

“Mr Patton’s Dad?” He looks up to see Logan at the counter, face cleaned up and a Hello Kitty bandaid on his cheekbone, looking at him curiously through broken glasses. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” 

“Yeah, Logan, I’m fine, it’s all good. How are you feeling?” He carefully slides the letter back inside, placing it and the bills in the folder on the bench, turning to the boy who looks at his hands with conviction. 

“I am okay. Mr Phillips cleaned me up and made sure I was alright. He is very good at first aid. He and Patton have gone to find blankets to build a fort in the living room. They said you would not mind, do you?” He looks up, green eyes filled with a worry Virgil can’t understand. 

“I think that sounds wonderful. Are you sure you’re alright with Roman hanging around? I know new people can be scary and he is a teacher so I would understand if you were uncomfortable.” Logan had once said that the teachers at his school were rude when he couldn’t take part in activities, and that none of them seemed to care that he either came to school in pain or just not at all. 

“Thank you Mr Patton’s Dad, I’m okay. Patton said he is like a large teddy bear.” Logan laughs lightly as Virgil cackles, both happy to see the other smiling.

“You could definitely describe him like that.” Roman enters the kitchen with his arms stuffed full of various blankets and sheets, Patton trailing with even more, one thrown over his head so he can only vaguely see through the thin fabric. 

“Come on, Papa! Mr Phillips said he knows how to build a better fort than us.” Patton laughs, turning to run from the room and hitting the wall, stumbling back into his Dad’s arms before being directed into the living room. 

“Logan, are you coming?” Roman looks at the young boy still sitting at the counter. He nods slowly, climbing down and following him to the lounge where Virgil and Patton have claimed half the furniture and started draping sheets over it. 

“I guess you’re on my team then, Little Einstein,” Roman smiles, starting on the fort and directing Logan to help him. Within only a few minutes, Patton falls through his and his dad’s fort, leading the two pairs to combine their efforts and collapsing in the middle with smiles all around.

As Virgil and Roman left to prepare dinner and Patton got distracted by a cat in the backyard, Logan couldn’t help but get lost in his thoughts. 

This was a home where the father treated his son with love and respect, where outsiders were welcomed in with open arms, where everyone felt wanted. Yes, there is only one parent, but it’s a family no matter who is or isn’t there. It was warm and comfortable and safe. Nothing like his home. 

Tears start to brim in his eyes as he thinks of having to go back. Sure, he could stay here the night, maybe two, but eventually he will have to return. He will have to face his mother and step-father, the physical beatings and verbal abuse. He can't stay in this eutopia forever no matter how much he wants too. 

Or...

He could speak up. 

Roman is a teacher, not his teacher, but still a teacher. Technically, if he hears about, or even really suspects the abuse, he has to ask. If Logan told him, he could tell the police or child services. He could get him out of that nightmare house.

But...

Logan's step-dad is a police officer- the captain, to be specific. No one would listen to the 'delinquent' son of his 'mentally ill' wife. That's what they were. He was punished for acting out, she didn't know any better. Or at least that's what he'd say. 

Sometimes his mum hugged him after yelling, saying she was sorry and that she loved him, that it was for his own good. Sometimes she kissed his forehead or gave him an extra slice of toast. She loves him. Or at least that what she claims. 

Logan hiccups a sob, hand slapping over his mouth to keep himself quiet and silently praying no one heard. 

"Logan?" Roman's voice calls from behind the curtain of sheets next to the couch, the only path to the outside world from his cave. The boy doesn't reply, stifling his sobs and frantically wiping at his tears. 

"Can I come in?" Waiting for the quiet affirmative, Roman slowly crawls in, looking up at the worried father in the doorway. He disappears into the tower of sheets, finding Logan curled up against the couch, eyes filled with terrified tears. 

"Hey buddy, wanna talk?" Logan frantically shakes his head, hands tugging at the hems of his jeans, fingers rubbing over the fabric roughly. "That's okay, would you like a hug?" Another shake. "That's alright too. Is it alright if I just sit here?" The crying boy nods slowly, watching the man adjust his legs to sit comfortably. His tear-filled eyes track Roman’s every move, undeterred by the lack of air entering his lungs, more focused on the threat of pain. 

His mother hated him crying, she hated hearing him sob or even hiss in mild discomfort. She often lamented about how ‘men shouldn’t cry, it’s a sign of weakness’. He had learnt to stay quiet and unseen, but this was inescapable. The emotions welling up so much they had to burst free no matter the cost. 

They sit there for a while, Logan sobbing quietly into his knees as Roman waits patiently, quietly telling him some meaningless tale of his day. Logan slowly calms down, breaths coming easier as he focuses more on Roman's words than his hands, eyes locked on the teacher's face as his own hands stop frantically tugging at his clothing. 

"How are you feeling now, Logan?" Roman carefully lays his hand face up between the two, watching the green eyes snap down to the offending movement. Logan looks up to Roman’s face, seeing the soft, welcoming smile before looking back down to his hand. Slowly and carefully, like a cautious wild animal, Logan reaches out, fingers brushing over Roman's skin before grasping his hand tightly. 

"It's okay if you don't want to talk, you don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Virgil said you're very cautious around new people so I understand if you'd prefer to talk to him, or even Patton instead. But I want you to know that if you need an impartial ear, I am here to help. If you want someone to just listen, or give you advice, or anything at all, you can come to me as well," Roman laments, watching Logan's hand trail up his arm, fingers dancing over the now-faded scars that litter the tanned skin, before he looks up, tugging on Roman's sleeve. No words are exchanged, they don’t need to be, as Logan crawls closer to Roman, curling up in his arms. 

Roman holds the young boy close, running a soothing hand over his back as he clings to him. Neither speak, both relishing in the silence and the warmth of the other. 

Logan still feels scared, he can't help it. Roman is a man, much bigger than he is, holding him. He could easily hurt him, hold him too tight and suffocate him, crush him slowly, break a bone or four. But something about Roman feels honest. He feels safe and genuine and warm, though that could just be because he's holding him. 

Roman is scared too. Logan has been abused, it’s obvious to anyone that spends even a moment near him. He holds the boy tight, but still loose enough that he could push away at a moments notice. He would hate to hurt him, physically or otherwise, but he wants to show the boy how love can be, how you can feel safe in the arms of an adult. 

When they pull away, Logan is the first to move, sitting back on his knees and smiling at the teacher softly. Roman smiles back before holding out a hand, leading Logan into the kitchen where Virgil and Patton sit at the counter, dinner ready to be served. 

Virgil dishes it up as Roman pours them all cups of juice and mugs of coffee despite the hour,   Logan climbing up next to Patton and smiling at his friend as he holds his hand beneath the table. 

The house quickly fills with laughter and stories, adults and children alike sharing tall tales and smiles over a meal prepared with love. Ex-families, custody battles and unsavoury thoughts are all set aside if only for the night, giving way to only love and happiness.

[thaliawinsor]

What’s in the Box?

There’s a lull of silence, a break in the buzz of excited and nervous whispers, at Newhaven City Hall when Nightingale arrives. The police have cordoned off the area where the parcel was originally found. The brown paper packaging resting in shreds around the box, the letter that came alongside it has been opened but remains in place to be read by the addressed.

There’s a crowd gathering and whilst the police are doing their best to move people along, quickly and without causing a mass panic, the number only seems to increase as the minutes tick by. Leaving crowd control to the police would buy precious seconds with the package, but the noise alone is enough to shatter one’s concentration. The police are concerned with keeping as many people safe as possible but despite their best efforts their warnings fall on deaf ears. Bobby Barkley spares a moment to look over to Nightingale, as if pleading for a moment of their time to help with the matter at hand. The high pitched beeping of the package serves as a looming reminder that there truly isn’t a second to spare.

Nightingale stares at the security cameras as she enters town hall, careful to angle her masked face away from the lens whenever she can. She's too closely connected to those who work in the building to risk being discovered, that thought alone almost put her off attending. But Mainframe was too big of a threat to ignore, she would do Spectrum injustice by not trying to stop him now.

The police presence is expected and whilst she knew there would be straggling employees and maybe press trying to get the first look at the scene, she hadn't been prepared for the sheer amount of people who had stayed behind. The camera phones blocked there faces but the constant chatter was hard to ignore. She stares at Bobby for the longest time, though in truth her focus isn't on his pleading look so much as appriciating him. It's besides the point and there is a task at hand to focus on. She clenches and unclenches her fists methodically, fingernails digging into sweaty palms as the ground continues to grow.

Nervously she steps away from them and the police at the barrier and towards the box, unable to find her voice or the confidence to speak to a crowd. Crowd control conditions are less than ideal as the number of spectators continues to grow. Frustrated exclamations and camera flashes fill the sky. The collective curiosity over the commotion grows and the people are doing whatever they can to get a closer look. Newhaven Police Department officially has their hands full, and while the some officers on duty understand your need to focus on the task at hand, there are those that will take this as you not prioritizing civilians and is something they’ll keep note of in the future. With the number of people growing at a dangerous rate, the police eventually have no choice but to shut down the surrounding block. Whilst this prevents people from entering the area it’s also shut those unlucky enough to be in with Nightingale and the box in. The civilians are now vulnerable to anything that could go wrong.

Eventually Nightingale approaches the box at the center of all the drama, with the on looking eyes of the crowd watching their every move. Upon closer inspection it becomes clear that despite the plain paper packaging it arrived in the box itself is ornate and rather beautiful. There’s a loud and consistent beeping coming from within, going off every second. Suddenly the presence of NHPD’s bomb squad is made all the more understandable. Mainframe’s letter still rests on top awaiting to be read by Nightingale. There’s a palpable tension in the air, only increasing with each passing second spent reading.

“Congratulations. You have been selected for further study and gifted the opportunity to be assessed by myself. Thank you for accepting the invitation so graciously extended but do note than by the time you’re reading this you will have very little time left to prove yourself. The challenge before you is not a test you can win but rather a test to see if you are worthy of being beaten by myself. Do not waste it. - Mainframe.”

After reading the letter, searching and scanning for any hidden messages or meanings or simply taking it at face value, three options become clear to move forward for what to do with the box.

Nightingale could investigate further, as there’s no guarantee that it’s a bomb. It’s possible the timer could be ticking to something else that’s absolutely worth investigating in to, and even taking the extra time may be helpful once the true nature of the box is discovered… or any investigation could be a colossal waste of time. Another option would be not to take any risks at all and destroy the bomb whose detonation marked by the incessant beeping, serving as a reminder that it’s borrowed to to be worked with. There’s no telling what consequences lie with this assumption, as if it turns out to be something more than a bomb, the outcome could be more dire than anticipated. 

It could be possible however for Nightingale to both assume it’s a bomb and proceed with a cautious investigation. This would certainly take the longest amount of time, as making sure any prying hands don’t accidentally trip a detonation sequence would be the primary focus… there’s just no telling how much of that precious time there is left to spare.

Nightingale spent the longest time reading over the letter. Not trusting anything the technopath puts in front of her she takes the time to hold the letter up to the window, looking for hidden messages or other kinds of trickery. She ignores the inciting comments of the note, the blonde vigilante has been dealing with the egomaniac long enough to know this is just another taunt.

She keeps her gaze between the letter and the box, refusing to look up and acknowledge the crowd. She'd grown so used to working alongside someone that it felt off balance not having Pitch or Red or Watcher by her side for support. But this was a test for her and according to the news they had their own tests.

Wasting no further time she paces back towards the box and kneels down to get a better look. After nothing leaps out at her she finally outstretches a cautious hand to trace alongside the patterns on the box. Under different circumstances she'd admit it was quite beautiful, something she'd even have on display in her own home, but her intentions now were focused on thwarting Mainframe not redecorating. Nightingale is certain there is more to the box than just a bomb and patiently she continues her checks. The box could be anything if Mainframe is the mastermind behind its contents. Not wanting to go with the obvious conclusion right away, Nightingale delicately traces their hands around the box’s sides to see if there is any other clues. The beeping continues as careful fingers feel around the smooth edges, the ornate detailing giving nothing obvious away at first.

Just when all is starting to feel fruitless, Nightingale's hands find purchase on a catch. The box chimes and shines with a soft green light, releasing the mechanism to begin working the puzzle on the box. It is meant to be opened. She almost rolls her eyes at how predictable it is, because of course Mainframe wouldn't just send a normal bomb like any other criminal would. Her lips purse in concentration, fingertips tracing every inch methodically. She's found one catch, how much harder could it be to find more? It's clear the puzzle is there to test someone's intelligence since Mainframe prizes his so much.

Nightingale turns the box in her hands, looking for sliding pieces or sections to remove. She pushes gently but is cautious to not apply pressure in her examination as the slightest wrong move could spell game over for her. This is just a fancy rubix cube and something she knows she can tackle so long as the time doesn't run out. It takes a while and for a moment many onlookers believe that Nightingale will fail. Murmurs about Spectrum and Sidekick amidst the persistent beeping. Nothing seems to happen despite methodically checking every side, catch and detail. It’s subtle but with the fading light the answer suddenly becomes clear.

A faint gold light shines beneath the gold ornate detailing, lighting and dimming under each touch. Tracing delicate patterns along the puzzle box proves to be a fruitful endeavor as shortly after every inch has been explored a different kind of beeping rings out.

The box chimes thrice again and the a digital voice addresses her.

“You have proven yourself worthy of further assessment. Congratulations are not in order. This was not a trail you could win, even in defeat of one plan I am victorious in another. Enjoy the next week for what it is worth, it will pave the way for your undoing. – Mainframe”

Nightingale allows herself to smile, victorious in her endeavour to solve the puzzle box. The chiming only aiding in lighting the mood. No one misses the beeping. She glances at Bobby and the crowd of people still present, choosing to ignore the comments said only moments ago. She is proud to have proven herself and holds the box up as a trophy almost.

Mainframe has always been bitter in defeat and, stupidly, she does not heed his words as any real threat.

The box react in her hand and faster than reaction time could allow, the nano-bots to do their work. They weave their way into her costumes fabric and make skin contact, bonding to her and gathering what they need. It’s subtle at first, not even the onlooking police force notice the small changes taking effect with Nightingale. It seems the puzzle box was just a means to an end for Mainframe, the true test is enduring the after effects of whatever serum he’s created and had injected through his nano-bots.

Small enough to seep through her skin like vapor, the bots first make their way to her main arteries to take route. It doesn't take long for the bots to seep into her bloodstream and administer the hormone through her system. The serum works quietly and slowly, but the personality changes she'd experience over the next several days are going to hinder the heroine soon enough.

The hormones were strong enough to serve as another identity for Nightingale, one in which every instinct and trait was reversed. As the glue that often holds a group of them together, Mainframe knew that having an "Anti-Nightingale" of sorts would be the key to their demise. However the fallout of this affected her personal life was of no consequence for the reward.

The tickle of a headache forms behind her eyes as the process slowly begins.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

Day Four: Thirty-One Days of Halloween

Movie: Let the Right One In

Pairing: Fraida

Soundtrack Suggestion: “Trained and Steady” by Michael Giacchino

Author’s Note: This is totally a day late but I had an awful day yesterday so I’m sorry? AO3: [x]

If he were feeling more -or possibly less, depending on how you look at it- maudlin he might make note of how his blood really does look pretty spotting the perfectly white snow.

He’s left a trail behind him, like breadcrumbs, tracing his walk from the road and to the back of his apartment complex, where there’s, thankfully, no one around to see him in such a sorry state. Fitz pauses, glancing over his shoulder, just to make sure. There’s nothing behind him but the glistening snow, the quiet of the complex at dusk. And the splotches of blood he’s left in his wake.

Everything is quiet, peaceful and beautiful in this small sliver of time between afternoon and nightfall. In winter, that time seems to bleed through most of the day, as though everyone is just waiting for the sun to set and the stars to be visible in the sky once more. When Fitz tips his head back to look above him, he can see his breath pluming in front of his face, crystalizing there for the briefest of moments before it disappears completely.

That would be pretty too, he thinks, if it didn’t hurt so damn much to breathe.

Fitz finishes his slow, shuffling walk through the perfect snow. The playground on the complex’s grounds sits empty and unused, as always. Not a single flake of snow is disturbed, a reminder that he’s one of the youngest people in the entire complex and in three weeks he’ll be seventeen years old.

But still. The only teenager around.

Or…he used to think so anyway.

Fitz smiles to himself, ignoring the pain that throbs in his lip and up to his temple. He can taste his blood against his teeth and on his tongue but he ignores that too, reaching for the item sitting, waiting for him on one of the swings. A Rubix Cube, the top dusting with a faint layer of snow. Fitz tries not to let disappointment slip into his body at the feel of the cold plastic in his fingers. It’s obviously been here a while.

He should have been here earlier. Would have been, if Werner and the rest of the assholes hadn’t-

“You’re late.”

Fitz whirls around, startled, at the sound of the voice behind him. He nearly drops the Rubix Cube but manages to avoid that particular embarrassment. He smiles, unable to help himself, certain he paints a ghastly sight with his bloody lip and the cut on his forehead.

Any time he sees Ophelia, his first thought is to smile. He can’t help himself.

Ophelia is standing there a few yards away, dressed in a sweater that doesn’t seem thick enough to keep out the cold that is turning the tip of Fitz’s nose numb. She seems unbothered in her sweater and jeans, her face a picture of concern as she studies him. “What happened, Leopold?” She questions, tilting her head as she looks at him.

Fitz shakes his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing,” he says quickly. He holds up the Rubix Cube. “I guess you solved this one too.”

Ophelia nods, smiling ever so slightly. She moves through the snow closer to him, her boots leaving tracks in the sparkling snow. “It took a little while longer,” she tells him, her tone slightly teasing. A little while longer, Fitz thinks, might be a whole twenty seconds.

Fitz sits on the swing, ignoring the bite of the cold plastic, and Ophelia sits in one of the swings beside him. The chains creak under their sudden weight, the only sound aside from the distant hum from the road.

“I’ll have to find another one,” Fitz tells her, wrapping his gloved fingers around the metal chains of the swing. “Really come up with something to stump you.”

Ophelia is still studying him closely, the way that she always does. Her eyes are so beautiful, something that never escapes Fitz’s attention. He doesn’t mind being the sole focus of her gaze, though he still has yet to figure out what it is about him that is so interesting to her. So worth her study.

Ophelia reaches out a hand, her fingers bare as they brush against his swelling cheek. “What happened?”

Fitz shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “Just some assholes from school. Idiots. You should be glad you don’t have to go.”

Though, Fitz thinks, he wouldn’t mind so much if she did. It might be nice to actually have a friend around to keep him company. Ophelia is homeschooled, something he learned about her in one of their first meetings here, on this empty and abandoned playground. She lives in the building across from his, though he never sees her unless she’s here, waiting to see him. Fitz isn’t exactly going to complain.

Ophelia frowns, her brow knitting. “Who is it?”

Fitz shakes his head. “You wouldn’t know them,” he mumbles. Then, for some reason, he feels compelled to give her their names, a list of the people who have made his life hell since middle school. Boys who have yet to grow out of the stage where they think pulling the wings off butterflies is the most amusing thing in the entire world.

“Seriously, Ophelia,” Fitz says with a shake of his head, “I’m fine. It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about them.”

It feels wrong, somehow, to be sitting here with Ophelia in the last, lingering seconds of dusk and fill the air with the names of the people who torment him.

Ophelia relents, giving herself a little push with the toe of her shoe. “What do you want to talk about?” She asks him.

You, he wants to say. Fitz manages to resist the urge.

So instead they talk about nothing at all: a book she read that day, things that happened at school. The stars. The snow. The everlasting winter and the shortening days. Hypothetical plans and hopes for a weekend that is only one day away.

Fitz can’t help but feel like he’s never had a better conversation in his life.

Though, honestly, he’s usually left feeling that way when he and Ophelia finally say their goodbyes.

* * * *

The first thing Fitz learns, upon arriving at school, is that Werner and all his idiot friends are dead.

He feels guilty when his first emotion is relief.

The second is shock. It seems surreal, impossible, that people he goes to school with, people he knows, are suddenly dead. No more. Gone from his life.

Gossip quickly answers any questions that Fitz might have had, though he’s not sure how much is true and how much is just exaggeration.

Werner and his friends, the gossip says, were mutilated. Savaged, as if by some wild animal. Though, of course, there are no wild animals around her.

For some reason, Fitz’s first thought upon hearing that is Ophelia.

He can’t get her out of his head after that.

Ophelia is waiting in their usual spot when he makes his way to the playground and Fitz feels his heart leap in his chest, the way it always does when he sees her. Despite the thoughts running through his mind, the mental images of Werner and his friends torn apart and bleeding in the snow, he smiles.

Ophelia turns her head and Fitz can see fat snowflakes caught in her hair. He doesn’t waste time saying, “Werner and his friends were killed last night.”

“Oh?” Ophelia tilts her head, considering. “Good.”

Fitz knows he should protest, that he should argue with her and tell her that this is not good, that they were still people, teenagers, that they didn’t deserve-

“Now,” Ophelia continues, “they can’t hurt you anymore.”

As he sits on her beside the swing, Fitz feels certain of the thought that had slipped through his mind earlier that day. He lays his gloved hand over hers, wishing there wasn’t anything between them, wishing he could feel the touch of his skin against hers.

“What are you?” Fitz asks, surprised by the words that come out of his mouth, surprised that he manages to say them without shivering.

Ophelia lifts her eyes, her gaze meeting his. Her fingers tighten around his and suddenly Fitz is certain it doesn’t matter how she answers his question.

[myotishia]

Music box part one

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: None as far as I know but feel free to suggest. Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: With things calming down Elise is given an alien puzzle box to try and solve.

Another quiet morning dawned. As Elise entered the hub she heard her boss call over.

“My office. Five minutes.”

“Yes sir.” She grinned, tucking her bag under her desk.

“What’s that about?” Asked Owen as he took off his coat.

“Not a clue. Can’t be bad though otherwise I wouldn’t get five minutes. Wish me luck.” She trotted into Jacks office and sat to wait. Seconds later he scooted in and closed the door behind him.

Sitting in his chair and leaning back, sipping his coffee. “So.”

“So?”

“How did it go?”

“Captain Jack Harkness did you bring me in here just for gossip?”

“Not just for gossip.” He smirked over the rim of his mug. “But mostly gossip.”

“It went pretty damn well. We’re going to see how it goes. Owen made breakfast.”

“Really well then. Either way it’s out in the open at last.”

“And the other reason you called me in here?”

He sat forward and brought a box, about the size of a rubix cube, from his desk draw. It was ornately patterned in black and gold.

“A box?”

“It’s a puzzle box we think but no one’s ever been able to solve it. I thought you could give it a try with fresh eyes.”

“If your resident geniuses couldn’t solve it then what makes you think I have a shot?” She picked up the cube and turned it over in her hands.

“Everyone thinks differently, you might see something they didn’t. It’s one of a few we’ve found over the years. Some we can’t try and solve because human minds can’t handle the concept of a four dimensional object. What we can tell is that they seem to be made by the same person out of the same material, that we can’t scan though and can’t even break.”

“I’ll give it a go.” She nodded and headed out, still studying the cube.

Ianto handed Elise her morning coffee on the way out of Jacks office. “What’s going on today?”

“Why?”

“Owen thanked me… He’s never thanked me for anything.”

“He’s just in a good mood. We had a fun night.”

“Whatever happened it’s an improvement.” He looked down at the cube in her free hand. “The lament configuration. I thought after Tosh tried to crush it it was stored away permanently.”

“The what what? The box?”

“Hellraiser? The film?”

“Sorry, before my time. I’ll add it to the list of things I need to watch.”

“The puzzle box that opens a portal to hell in that film is called the lament configuration. Everyone gets so frustrated while trying to solve it I thought the name fit.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m not as smart as anyone else here so I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“I can give you a little head start. The corners all pull out so the layers can be moved.”

“Thanks. I thought I heard cogs moving when I turned it.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yea.” She placed down her mug and held up the box, slowly turning it. “Maybe it has some sort of gyroscope inside so certain moves only work if it’s the right way up. Let’s see if we…” she pulled two opposing corners and turned it by them. “The sound is different now. I’ll have to spend some time listening to it.” She picked up her drink again and palmed the box. “Thanks.” She beamed and trotted back to her desk.

Gwen leaned on Elise’s desk, watching her twist the puzzle box and test different configurations of buttons.

“Could you ask Owen if I can borrow a stethoscope? I can’t quite catch the click.” Elise asked, holding the item up to her ear.

“I can try. Owen’s possessive over his things.”

“You might be lucky today. He’s in the best mood right now.”

Gwen decided to give it a try. She guessed he’d be where he usually was and walked over to the autopsy bay. She looked over the railing to see Tosh sitting on his lap and laughing at something. Gwen cleared her throat and Tosh blushed, trotting away in embarrassment.

Owen looked up, still smiling as if he were very proud of himself for something. “What’s up?”

“Elise wanted to borrow a stethoscope to help with the cube but it looks like you’re busy.” She didn’t know what to say about what she’d seen, a million thoughts running through her head. .

“Oh yea. Here.” He kicked off, sliding across the room in his office chair, stopping himself with his heels at a set of draws. “Here. Tell her good luck. I never want to see that thing again.”

Gwen nodded and took the stethoscope, returning to Elises desk. “We should grab something for lunch later.”

“Huh? Sure, why not. It’s quiet this morning and I don’t think this’ll go anywhere.” Elise sat back away from the cube and pulled on her jacket. She waved at Tosh who still looked bright red. “Want anything while we’re out?”

“No. I’m fine. It’s your turn to cook dinner so you could look for that.”

“Cool. See you an a bit.” She blew a kiss as she followed Gwen out. Once on the street Gwen seemed to lose a little of the tenseness she was carrying.

“So… How are things between you two?” She asked uncomfortably.

“Good, why?”

“Well, when I walked in… Tosh was sitting on Owens lap and I’m not saying they were up to anything but it didn’t exactly look innocent.”

“Cheeky sods.” Elise laughed to Gwens utter astonishment.

“You’re not upset?”

“No. It would be pretty hypocritical if I was.”

Gwen stopped in her tracks, wondering if she was getting across what she was trying to say. “So you’re ok with them two fooling around while you and Tosh are dating?”

“Yep.”

“Am I missing something here? I didn’t know you had an open relationship.”

“We don’t. It just happens that the closed relationship has three members instead of two. It’s about time they stopped dancing around the issue anyway.”

“When did that happen?!” she squeaked out of surprise.

“Last night. I made sure they could sit down and talk things over. It’s kind of sweet, Owen wanted to take the idea to his grave until I convinced him otherwise.”

“The words Owen and sweet don’t usually appear in the same sentence and it was your idea?”

“Course it was. Those two nerds would have never said anything to each other. For all his bravado Owen’s just as socially awkward as the rest of us. Aren’t you relieved? I mean if this hadn’t been the case you would have had a whole host of drama to deal with.”

“I’m just… In shock I think. I’m used to Jack talking about that sort of thing and I’m never sure if I believe him or not.”

“You know what’s good for this kind of shock?”

“What?”

“Chocolate cake.”

Jack had shut himself in his office, trusting that the rest of the team were dealing with everything just fine. The presence of the earthquake machine bothered him. The time ripples had to grab the time agency’s attention and they weren’t fans of unlicensed time travellers. Since Jacks watch no longer worked to actively travel he’d been staying under their radar but if they were snooping around it might only be a matter of time. The rift usually covered the time anomalies but it didn’t cover the effect of changing the past. At least, to the best on his knowledge, Elise hadn’t time jumped since the pharm so she wasn’t glowing like a beacon to any passing agent. Well mostly. The security cameras still couldn’t pick up her right hand and if they were unlucky that would be spotted. He hoped the agency would assume they’d done their job and eliminated the problem. They were rarely that lucky.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at his door.

“Come in.”

Ianto opened the door. “Elise brought cake if you want some. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll with you in a minute.”

“Jack…”

“Yes?”

“Your smile isn’t meeting your eyes.”

“Do you have to pay attention to everything?”

“I believe it’s in my contract, yes. It’s just below the small print that stops me poisoning Owen on a bi weekly basis.”

“I’m just concerned about the possibility of the time agency tracking me down.”

“We’ll deal with whatever happens when it happens. Frankly, if Owen could break time and space to save, not only, his own life but others then we can all handle an agency that couldn’t track you when you’ve been here for quite some time. Now come and have some cake before there’s nothing left.”  

The team sat in the boardroom where the cake had been demolished. Elise sat back in her chair with the cube, spinning it by the corners like a large fidget spinner. After each rotation it gave a satisfying clink.

Gwen was leaning on the table looking a little green.

“Too much cake?” Asked Owen.

“Sod off. I think I just picked up a bug somewhere.”

“How long for?” He asked with actual concern.  

She shrugged. “A few days. It’ll go just after lunch.”

Owen looked around the room to see if everyone else was thinking what he was. They were. Elise even put the cube down.

“So you get this sickness every morning?” He continued.

“Oh don’t start. I’m on the pill.”

“You might want to check anyway.”

Elise leant forward. “Yea. I heard that there was an issue with that type of birth control. There was so much in the water system that everyone's bodies were getting used to it so it wasn’t working as it should. There were lawsuits and everything.”

Gwen looked up, a little nervous. “Seriously?”

“Yea. The pill was retired in 2026. It was replaced by these implants that can be turned on or off by a doctor. 100% effective.”

“Shit.”

Owen placed a hand on Gwens shoulder. “Come on. We can find out and if not I can see what’s really causing it.”

Gwen groaned but followed, kind of hoping it was just a virus. She couldn’t really hang up her life for a while to have a baby. How would she even bring up a child with her job as it was. What would Rhys think? Another wave of nausea hit her though likely more from stress.

The short wait felt like forever.

“Will we have to open a creche? I don’t think it’s possible to baby proof the hub.”  Ianto mused out loud.

“Gwen’ll just be on maternity leave for a while, though in the past parents haven’t returned to work because of the risk. I can’t blame them.” Said Jack, his mind wandering to his own family.

Tosh was pacing, thinking about the possibilities for herself. She sat down close to Elise. “You have one of those implants, don’t you?”

“Yea. Since I was eighteen. It’s the earliest you can get it because it puts your reproductive system into a sort of stasis.”

“Any idea how it works?”

“Not a clue but we might be able to reverse engineer one. If Gwen isn’t pregnant then she’ll probably be interested too.”

“I can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now. A baby just throws your whole life upside down.”

“Yea, but she has Rhys. I’m sure he’d be ecstatic.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

Elise shook her head. “No way. If my mum was anything to go by I should never have kids. What about you?.”

“I don’t have time for children and I don’t think I could stay away from work. It’s the Torchwood curse. Normal stops being a thing.”

“There’s a thought, what would my power even do if I got pregnant?”

“That doesn’t bare thinking about.”

Gwen tensed up waiting for the result that felt as if it was taking forever when only seconds had passed. Negative.

“Oh thank god.” She almost collapsed, relieved.

“You always looked the type to want kids.”

“I do, just not right now. I can’t bring a baby into all this. At least now I can change my birth control before I get caught out. Of course the pill wouldn’t work with all the radiation and crap we end up covered with.”

“I’m surprised this is the first scare we’ve had. With Jack alone we should have had them once a week.”

“Says you.”

“I’m very careful thank you very much.” He sat down in his wheely chair.

“What about this new relationship you’ve got going?”

“I’m not the dad type. I’m the drunk uncle that doesn’t get invited to family parties anymore type. They know that.”

“Yea and that was a shock.”

“Same here if I’m honest, but fuck, why not? The world could end tomorrow. Last real relationship I had was before I even joined Torchwood. Maybe it’s been long enough.”

“What happened?”

“She died.”

Gwens face fell. “Oh god Owen, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know. I didn’t want to move on really but… When you could be crushed any second by a tonne of concrete you start to look at your life differently. Plus the other Owen was a better man than I’ve ever been. He’s the one Elise fell for originally so I’ve got to live up to that now.”

“You and him are different people.”

“I know, but he’s who I could have been.”

“What, dead?”

He laughed softly. “You should go up and give everyone the news. They’re probably waiting with bated breath.”

“After this long I think they would have suffocated.”

Four pairs of eyes watched the door as it opened.

“It’s negative, thank god.”

There was a collective sigh of slight disappointment.

“Oh thanks.”

Jack smiled. “We’re happy you’re happy but a pregnancy’s exciting.”

“I know.” She waved him off.              

C#, F#, E, D, B, F#, C#, B… Each correct movement of the box made a note, only audible with a little help. G#, F#, click. The top of the box popped up and turned 90 degrees, creating an eight pointed star, followed by three other layers. The whole thing then flattened to about half its height, but in the new configuration. It looked completely different than it had but no less beautiful. The surface seemed to have taken on shapes similar to symbols. Writing maybe? She couldn’t tell at first.

Then she saw a very familiar one. She stood suddenly and excitedly carried it to find Ianto. He nearly jumped out of his skin as she trotted up to him.

“I got further with the box.”

He looked at the puzzle in surprise. “How did you solve it?”

“It was a music puzzle. It was too quiet for human ears to naturally hear it so I used a stethoscope to work it out. I don’t think it’s solved yet though so I need that book with all the symbols in.”

“I’ll grab it for you and bring it over, just wait for me to get back before you show anyone else.”

“Why?”

“I want to see their reactions.”

Elise laughed at his smug smile, knowing how it had frustrated everyone.

[philanddanxreader]

43. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me”  Dan.

Hello, Love bugs! 

Dan X Reader

Warnings- Smut. Also this is a really long one.

Saying you hate crowds would be considered an understatement.You could never put it into words. It's so much more than just people forgetting what personal space is. It's even more than the thought of everyone looking at you thinking you're strange. It’s an immense feeling in the pit of your stomach that tightens. It's the way you feel your breathing changing to a more shallow breath. Dan understood how you feel in crowds and has always tried his hardest to help you through any emotions you were feeling. Today was an extra stressful day as you were not only in a crowd of strangers but it was a crowd of Dan’s family. 

“They will love you just as much as I love you.” That was easy for Dan to say. He wasn't the one who was meeting a bunch of new people who were for sure judging you to see if you were right for there Dan.

 "What if they don't. What if your aunt thinks I'm wrong for you and tells your mum and your mum tells your grandma and then she will hate me and then I will never be able to be with you because I can't make you choose between myself and your family." Dan kisses you softly to try and get you to shut up for even just a second.

 "My mum loves you. No matter what one of my aunts say. My grandmother literally asks how you are doing before she asks me about myself when she calls. Don't worry love." You nodded as you took his hand into yours. 

"I'm just. Nervous." Dan smirked his usual killer smile as he kissed your knuckles.

"Good if you weren't I would be concerned." Dan placed one more quick kiss to your lips before leading you from the rented car up the driveway towards his parents home. The both of you reached the door and you were positive that you could puke right then and there.

 "Hello, my loves. Daniel, I have missed you, dear." Dan's mum was so sweet. She could make anyone feel loved in an instant. Just as his mum finished hugging Dan she turned to you for your turn. " y/n! Everyone is so excited to meet you. Not to make you worry but Dan's grandmother has been bragging about how amazing you are to the whole family." You let out a nervous laugh before following her into the house. With Dan in tow as you felt that if you let go of his hand you would go into a straight panic. The moment you walked into the kitchen you felt a little less worried seeing Dan’s grandma’s face light up seeing you. 

“Finally! I thought the two of you had gotten lost. You know Dan was never a very strong driver. Let alone never driving since he moved to London.” You were wrapped in a giant hug before you knew it. Dan was flushing pick at his grandma. Their relationship was so sweet. 

“I drive fine. Besides Y/N drove here.” She pulled away after crushing you to move towards Dan.

“I insisted as I value my life.” She smiled as she took Dan into the same tight hug.

“Smart girl. See everyone I told you she was perfect!” It was your turn to blush as you now noticed all of the new faces that were watching this exchange. Dan noticed and quickly reached for your hand rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. The two of you were never that heavy into PDA but holding his hand always seemed to help calm you down. 

After introductions to the whole family, you started to come out of your shell a bit more. Everyone was generally pretty nice. They would ask you questions like did you have a normal job, unlike Dan. You felt bad for him that most of his family didn't understand his job or really care to learn more. You explained that you did have a normal person's job and that you loved what Dan did. At one point one of his aunts called his job weird and that he wasn't going to get far after the fad dies. You were just about to defend Dan and how his job really makes his creative side shine but Dan thankfully interrupted.

“We should go get our things from the car love.” You nodded as you followed Dan out of the kitchen and back to the front entrance.

“I was about to set your aunt straight.” You put on your shoes as you continued your way to the car.

“I know and I appreciate it love but she is a lost cause. My own grandparents understand it better than she does. Anyways. They were taking up to much of your attention.” Dan had a little smirk on his face as he pulled you by the hips closer to him.

“What has gotten into you? Someone is going to see us snogging in the road.” You couldn't help but laugh at your own words.

“I love it when you talk dirty.” You tried to push away from him but didn't really succeed as Dan pulled you in for a quick kiss.  

“Your family is going to be judging us from the windows.” Dan finally let you go as he opened the car to get the bags. 

“Fine, you win this time.”

Later that evening you found yourself surrounded by a bunch of strangers all trying to include you in conversations about more strangers. It was all a bit overwhelming. Luckily you had Dan to your left holding your hand under the table. Just as you were wrapping up a conversation with Dan’s mum you started to overhear Dan’s conversation with his uncle. It quickly dawned on you that he was talking to Dan about hat he could have been if he stuck to school. You desperately wanted to say something but you knew Dan had come to the conclusion long ago that he could never explain his job enough to some people.Just as you were getting lost in pushing your desert around your plate you felt Dan’s breath close to your ear. The room had become quite loud from all of the mini conversations so you had to listen closely to Dan. 

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” You gave his right hand a tight squeeze before leaning in closer to Dan. “After this desert is finally over do you want to go to the car to get some fresh air? I could take you downtown to see the only existing thing this town has. Spoiler it’s a fountain.” You smiled as you nodded your head in excitement. It was time to get away from so many people and have some alone time with Dan. The two of you were definitely used to having Phil be the only other person in the apartment. 

Here it is. The most magic place in the town. Actually, this is the place I had asked my first girlfriend to date me. Now, look at me. Still dorky, with a hot lady. The big difference is I have a lot more money and the girl was a big upgrade.” Dan took you over to the bench by the fountain.

“I have never kissed by a fountain.” Dan took your face in his hand as he pulled you closer to him.

“How about I change that.” Dan was only a centimetre away from your lips. You could feel his warm breath on your lips as he finally closed the last gap away from you. It was a sweet kiss as your noses brush against each other. It was almost a battle to see who could last longer without pulling away first. Unfortunately, it was you to pull away first. Dan smiled against your lips as he laughed a little at you.

“How is it after all of this time you haven't figured out to breath through your nose.” you hit Dan square in his chest as to make sure knew you were grumpy with him.

“It's things I haven't learned yet. Kinda like how I don't know how to open my eyes under water. Or How I don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. I have actually had lots of practice with that too. Yet here we are.” Dan placed another kiss to your lips as you sighed into the kiss.

“Should we get out of here so we don't look like teens in the park who have nowhere else to go.”

“We don't really have anywhere else to go. As we are staying at your parent's house in your old bedroom. Plus we are making out like teens in a park. What or where do you have in mind?” Dan took your hand to drag you back to the car. The two of you drove back to his parent's house singing your hearts out. After a few minutes, Dan pulled up back in front of his parent's house. The both of you sat in the silence for a little bit as the both of you were thinking the same thing of wanting to avoid more conversations with family members.

“We have two options one we fuck in the car and kill like three hours. Or we go into the house, wait for my family to leave. Go up to my childhood room and quietly try to fuck?” You rolled your eyes at him before bursting his bubble.

“First I do have to question your three hours? Are we also going to solve Rubix cubes for two hours and forty-five minutes.” You paused to look at Dan’s face because that was too sweet of a burn not to enjoy his hurt. After your sweet moment, you continued to list why his plan was terrible. “Second as fun as it would be to fuck in your bed I will not try and be quiet as to not disturb your parents. It would be fun to fuck like teens in your bed but as a grown woman I will not suck your dick while having anxiety about getting caught.” Dan nodded at your valid points but it wasn't like you fully ruled out sex in the car.

“So could we spend those fifteen minutes doing something before going back in?  I can pull the car around the corner.” How could you say no to his stupid little face? Plus thinking about humping like bunnies was actually peaking your interest

“Fuck it.” Dan had a little cheer before starting up the car so you could pull around the corner to have a bit more privacy. Once around the corner you quickly realised how dark the night was as there wasn't a single street light on the block making your eyes try and adjust to the blackness. You could hear the car being turned off as you looked down to find the lock button on the doors.

“Scared pet? Haven't you ever seen porn with people fucking in cars? It always seems to work out for them just fine.” Rolling your eyes you started to take off your shoes before crawling your way to the back seat of the car. 

“The last thing we need is someone coming up to the car to steal it while were getting it on back here.” Dan laughed as he ungracefully crawled into the small back seat where you were sitting.

“Now that would be a good reason why Dan’s a fail.”You were about to make a snarky remark but were quickly cut off from Dan’s lips crashing into yours. Just as Dan was pushing you up to lean on the door you made an uncomfortable squeak. Dan pulled you back instantly looking over your face trying to read it in the dark car.

“Seat belt thing was digging into my hip. Hold on.” Quickly tucking the seatbelt parts into the back of the seat you grabbed Dan by his collar to continue what was so rudely interrupted. The fight for dominance was given easily to Dan with your current position in the car. You head and part of your back was against the door as your one leg was on the seat and the other awkwardly on the floor. Dan pulled away for a second to resituate himself between your legs to try and get a bit more leverage. 

“Now I know why older people don't fuck in the car. It’s incredibly uncomfortable so if it's possible to fuck anywhere else you take it.” Dan laughed into your lips as he continued to pepper kisses to the already slightly swollen skin.

“I never had a car when I was younger and my girlfriend took the bus everywhere. I guess you’re taking my car sex virginity. How exciting.” He was always in a teasing mood even when he was trying to get with you. 

“I have never fucked in a car. I have done other things but never fucked. If we're being honest I'm already hot and not in a fun way. Would it be possible to give you a little road head and maybe continue the other play another time?Like tomorrow when we go back home.” Dan weighed his options as the both of you sat in the already steamy car.

“I would feel bad to get some sort of release and leave you hanging.” You patted Dan’s face sweetly as you tilted your head to the side to look at him.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I know you will make it up to me in some way tomorrow. Plus I know how bad you have wanted this since we had to cut our morning short because we had to leave.” Dan was feeling rather needy from the lack of play this morning.

“Ok, I'm desperate. Love would you please suck my cock. Nothing would make me happier right now. It may release some stress.” You couldn't help crack a smile at his desperate need. 

“Fine. Only because I love you and your pretty cock.” You felt a little blush rush to your cheeks even though you were usually this straightforward with Dan. Thankfully he wouldn't be able to see the pink on your cheeks from the darkness so you continued you way over to Dan as you knelt on your knees so you were mere inches from his already hardening member. You didn't pause for very long before reaching to undo Dan’s jeans that were somehow even tighter with his member pushing against his pants. Managing to undo the button and zipper Dan’s cock sprang free from his jeans giving you a bit of a shock. 

“Where are your underwear?” You had pulled back a bit so you could try and read the expression on his face.

“Well to be honest I knew at some point today we were going to be fooling around and I wanted to make it as easy as possible.” 

“Cocky. Aren't we?” Quickly realising the accidental pun the both of you shared a quick laugh before both of your focuses were turned to a more pressing matter, Dan’s hand had snuck its way up to pull your face closer to his making you vulnerable to his lips over yours. As much fun as it was to kiss Dan you did want to please him so as you broke the kiss you moved your hand over the tip of his cock brushing the precum over his shaft down to the base. You continued to do these long strokes as Dan let his guard down by releasing a low moan from the lips you were kissing mere seconds ago.

“Please.” That was it all took for you to continue your way to kitten licking him from his base upwards to the tip. Wrapping your lips around him you make sure to hollow your cheeks as to try and get as much of him in your mouth as possible. You were going slow as to try and not hit your gag reflex but in taking the time you were accidently causing Dan to be teased to the point where his hips bucked on their own causing you to gag slightly. You pulled off of dan giving him a smirk as he looked down at you apologetically. It was a silent conversation as you rolled your eyes before setting back to the duty ahead. Regaining your composure you started again mostly focusing on the sensitive tip sucking and pressing your tongue on him as you pop him in and out of your warm mouth. Just as you were about to try and really suck on Dan again you felt his hand in your hair tugging slightly letting you know not to stop what you were doing. You took the hint as you continued on. Pumping the rest of him with one of your hands as the other played with his balls just a little. Dan was still letting out little whimpers in pleasure before finding his voice.

“What a pretty girl sucking my cock. Do you like my big cock in your mouth?” You decided to answer him with a slight squeeze oh his balls a little harder. It took Dan everything not to buck into your mouth again. “Oh, you dirty little girl. D you want my cum in your mouth?” You replied with a moan making the vibrations flow through Dan. The car was filled with the sounds of Dans moans and the sound of you sucking on Dan begging for his release. You loved when you could pleasure Dan making him orgasm for and because of you.

“I'm going to cum love.Do you want me to cum in this pretty little mouth?” You didn't have much time to respond as you felt Dan’s cock throb in your mouth before letting his orgasm rush over him. After a few thrusts, you pulled away from Dan as you swallowed all oh his hot cum.

“That’s my girl/ You look so pretty with my cum on your chin.” Dan took his finger wiping the cum from your face before brushing it off on his pants that were still only around his thighs.

“Did I do good?” Dan laughed as he pulled you into a kiss. 

“You did fantastically well.”

[minthepin]

7 days or 150,000 steps. Your choice…

Highlights

By far my favorite thing here was eating at Zellers Bistro. I may or may not have cried at the dinner table. I now realize that I will never amount to that level of happiness again so I can die. Dad said they are ranked in the top 10 restaurants in Budapest. They greeted you with some elderflower champagne (made in house) and said goodbye with some miniature cupcakes. The whole atmosphere was so sweet, like some basement/wine storage place that was last minute turned into a wonderful little restaurant. I had the Hungarian gray beef steak with jacket potato and green peas, and dad had the Cod with black risotto. Needless to say, the steak was better. It just melted in your mouth as tears of joy came running down my face.

The restaurant

Cod and black risotto

This dude keeps following me

Beef and peas, and some of my tears

Carrot cake

Margaret Island comes in close second. I don’t know whether it was just because I was tired of being around people, or whether it was the natural (although hella manicured) quality of the island. But it was just a relaxing day. I followed some self-guided walking tour of the island – there were some Roman ruins, an old convent (for Princess Margaret – her father said if he won the war he would give her to God, so she became a nun at the ripe old age of 9), the Grand Hotel Margitsziget (it used to be the most fashionable hotel in all of Budapest, simply known as “the Grand,” but after WW2 the hotel was modernized), a cute little rose garden and finally, a Japanese garden (waterfalls, streams, bridges and all). The only disappointment was that there was suppose to be a musical fountain, playing old Hungarian tunes, but for some reason, there was neither a fountain nor music. Maybe I liked it so much because it was away from all the traffic and tourists, or maybe it was because I didn’t have to have the stress of trying to keep up with a tour group that I would eventually lose.

Roman ruins

Rose Garden

Rose Garden

Water Tour

Princess Margret

The Convent

The Grand Hotel

The Grand Hotel

Japanese Garden

Japanese Garden

The neither Musical nor Fountain

Japanese Garden

And for my final highlight, it must have been the Opera. Surprising, I know. But actually, they are low key known for their amazing performances. We went to the Hungarian National Opera theater to see “Marios and the Magician” and “Bluebeards Castle,” both written by Hungarian composers. So, although they were in Hungarian and I understood nothing, they had surtitles translating in English. Unfortunately, the theater will be closed down for the next five years for renovation. The singers were so powerful, and the music was just amazing. I have never experienced something so dramatic in person.

The theater, we were on the third floor so a few people got nose bleeds.

It me

The outside of the theater

Daily Activities

Seeing as that was nearly a day worth of activities I figured I should give a slightly more detailed description of my time here (but not too much because this post is already long, so more so pictures than anything).

Day 1

I got in around noon and slept most of the day. Dad and I went out for a sunset walk to see the Parliament, Chain Bridge, and some other things in the nearby vicinity. He works at the Ministry of Agriculture, so he wanted to show me that as well. We then ate a cherry-poppyseed strudel (they are in love with poppyseed things, and strudels so I’m here for it).

The fat policeman statue – rubbing his belly brings you luck

Cherry and Poppyseed Strudel

Imre Nagy Statue, the bridge is made out of Soviet tank pieces (parliament in the back)

The Parliament

View from the Chain Bridge

Day 2

I wanted to get some hardcore tourist shit in still, but dad not so much. We compromised and went on a free alternative walking tour. It was quite interesting – there is a competition every year to design murals on blank walls, it is meant to make the city more beautiful. One of my favorites was the Rubix cube, up close it’s just a bunch of dots, but further away it becomes a cube! The guy who invented it is Hungarian (a lot of things are actually Hungarian – with Greek inspiration of course). There is a quote next to the cube that says, “There is more than one way to solve a problem.” Which is think is super applicable to everyone’s life and honestly, that is a really good thing to keep in mind when doing anything. I was talking to Joe a few weeks ago and something he emphasized in his personal belief is just perspective. Everything needs to get put into perspective in order to try to understand it – maybe it is a person, or a problem, anything really. I just felt like those two went hand in hand and I truly appreciate the beauty of both statements. We saw a lot more street art (attached below I’ll explain it for you, although mom you can just call and I’ll tell you. I know it’s just you reading it…).

Rubix Cube, the quote is “Mindig van megoldás és nem is csak egy!”

This was a Spanish painter, and the man depicted help save a lot of Jewish people during the War. Unfortunately, I cant remember his name.

This was a cute little sticker that is all over Budapest

This is a depiction of Buda and Pest (two separate cities, but they come together because of love). It tries to switch up the stereotypes of both sides of the city.

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The theme for this was “all things Hungarian,” Poseidon one has a bunch of little features (like the train), and the girl is suppose to be a classical Hungarian girl.

It’s me and dad trying to take a selfie in front of a fish!

Day 3

Today was Pentecostal, so more or less everything was closed. Since it is a Christian holiday, I decided to do the Jewish legacy walking tour. We walked all over the Jewish Ghetto and there were three Synagogues we saw – the Great, the Modern, and the Orthodox. All of which were beautiful, but none really resembled a traditional Synagogue. The Great Synagogue – biggest on continental Europe (I think) – had a weeping willow tree made out of silver. Each leaf had a name on it. Around it were rocks everywhere, this is how Jewish people signify their love at burials – the rocks last forever to signify that they will not be forgotten. It was so touching and sad, Hungarians have such a rich history with the Jewish folk during WW2. Of about 700,000 before the war there were only 60,000 left when it ended. We saw the mass burial ground and heard about the Shoe Memorial by the Danube (see Day 4). There were some positives though, there was a statue of Raul Wallenberg and Carl Lutz. Both of them played a major role in saving thousands and thousands of Jewish people during the war in Hungary. If you’re reading this, you honestly should take 10 minutes out of your day and read about Hungarian history and World War 2. Currently, the government is trying to deny all responsibilities. They are blaming the Germans for actions the Hungarians took. Of course, there was an influence, but the Hungarians went above and beyond to destroy a culture and a people. The government even built a fountain (Day 4) trying to avoid all blame. Total and complete bullshit.

Raul Wallenberg Memorial

Synagogue – Modern

Synagogue door – it is under reconstruction

Carl Lutz Memorial

I think this is super applicable to a bunch of incredible people I know

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Weeping Willow Tree

Memorable Jewish people

The Great Synagogue

The Great Synagogue

Day 4

Seeing as losing my tour group yesterday was traumatic, I decided to try again. I went on a “Red” tour – i.e. communism. And although it was super interesting and good, I think jet lag was catching up with me making me super out of it (also see Day 5….). First off, I woke up to an e-mail saying I was Unconditionally Accepted to my Master’s program (WOO!). But then I went to lunch at dads work and got an amazing view of the Parliament. The tour was good, I saw the interactive fountain/blame it on the Germans fountain,  but I just wasn’t all that into it. So I kinda “lost” them and went to do my own thing. I saw the Shoe Memorial on the Danube and just wandered around Budapest.

The Parliament from the Ministry of Agriculture

The “its the German’s fault” fountain

The Parliament from the back.

Shoe Memorial

Shoe Memorial

The Chain Bridge

View from the Chain Bridge

Chain Bridge

Sticker on the bridge

Day 5

The food was too good the night before, so I’m pretty sure my body needed to calm down a little. Went for a short walk but nothing too extraordinary.

Day 6

Ya girl finally did the whole city tour – I got over to the Buda side! We saw St. Stephens Basilica, the first metro station in continental Europe, the little princess (I took the same pic 4 years later, see my insta min.mosa), the Palace, St. Matthias Church, fisherman’s bastion, and then got lost trying to get back. Those places are really beautiful, but I think you can just see it and be done. I’m not sure I have much to say about these places, overall beautiful but I think it is super touristy. AND in Budapest it is very traditional to go to Baths – water helps cure everything right? So, we went to St. Lucas Baths, which were really kinda small. It isn’t the touristy place (Szechenyi Baths, which I was at 4 years ago), but instead one where locals go. I was a little iffy on this idea because bath with your father doesn’t sound too good…. But It was just a warm swimming pool with a jacuzzi and a swirling current. It was fun to go to, but I wasn’t the biggest fan. My life would have been the same without it. If you ever make it over here, it is definitely something you have to do, just to cross it off your bucket list (which by the way, I have been hungry in Hungary, so #winning).

First metro station

The little princess and I

Views from the Chain Bridge

St. Matthias Church

The Fisherman’s Bastion

Views from the Fisherman’s Bastion

Me getting lost

Still lost, but found a cool window

St. Lucas Baths

Selfie at the Baths, ft. my new camera (thanks dad!)

Parliament at sunset

Day 7

Margret Island, and just putzing around, later we did the Opera!

Onwards…

I really enjoyed my time here, and would recommend it! I think it has a lot of history, beautiful art, and some really neat people. Overall, I can see why people call it the “Paris of Eastern Europe.” I don’t think I would go that far since 98% of the time it smells like pee, but I would say it is really pretty.

On my last day before being in transit to Jordan, I think we are just gonna hang out and maybe take some pictures. If you get a chance, you should come here. Maybe don’t spend a whole week (or maybe do since beer is only a euro…), but if you do be sure to check out some of their wonderful history and culture.

This place really makes you understand your good fortune. At least mine. I really have had a lot of time to think (both because tour groups get lost, and because I sit a lot on my own). I can’t believe how lucky I have been these past four years. Yeah, a lot of shit happened, but honestly, overall, I don’t know if I would have become the person I am today without it. I grew up, I am able to reflect on things, and most importantly I like who I am. If that isn’t something to be celebrated, I am not sure what is.

The first time I was here, I was on my way to becoming a freshman, getting my BS in something, and now I am on my way towards getting my MS in international development. I never thought my college experience would have turned out this way, nor that I would have ended up in a field like this, but holy shit am I lucky. I am so lucky to be pursuing a career that I think I’ll love, I am lucky to have known some amazing people, and I am so lucky to have love, support and good fill every corner of my life. Even if I can’t do that for myself, I know I’ll have someone else who can get a flashlight and blind me with light. So thank you to everyone who has contributed to my last four years, good or bad. You have made me better, stronger and wiser.

7 Days in Budapest 7 days or 150,000 steps. Your choice... Highlights By far my favorite thing here was eating at…

[taintedpromos]

( OPEN SKELETON CHARACTER ) Did you see that? I could have sworn that I just spotted [ Tom Holland ] ducking into the shadows. Oh, it was just [ Richie Viktor & 25 ]. They’ve always been kind of odd. You know, I’ve heard rumors that they are actually a [ WEREWOLF ] and work as a [ ACCOUNTANT FOR THE PACK ]. I don’t know if that’s actually true, but I do know that they are SMART & CREATIVE which is nice, but they also are RASH & NAIVEwhen you piss them off.

Richie was the youngest of three, and though this meant many things, he always found himself thankful for his family. With two older sisters that valued and protected him, Richie never had to feel alone. As well as with a pack, many members in which he considered friends. Though after the scandal of his father leaving behind his family, and mother for another woman, Richie managed to deal. Maybe because he knew his father less than his sisters, and he was younger. However, through all these uncertainties, there was always one constant in his life, education. Richie had been born with Eidetic memory, more commonly known as ‘photographic memory.’ He was  deemed a prodigy from a young age even though his family barely had enough money to scrap by, a fiend at maths and sciences, and more than satisfactory at English and history. He was always top of his class and though it was a small town, his ability to understand things within seconds proceeded his reputation. He loved anything logical and that required strategy, for example, he can solve a regular Rubix cube in under ten seconds and a gigaminx cube in less than a minute. With an IQ of over 136 and an academic drive that’s hard to compete with, Richie was on a destined track to greatness, though everything changed once he learned the truth. Never realizing that his sisters were working over time and double shifts to put him through school, and support him, Richie felt guilt. And so he left behind his dreams of greatness and college, and took on the role as an accountant for the pack, where he saved his own money to pay back his sisters as well as taking online courses for college at night. Sometimes even driving out to the next nearest college to attend labs.

Richie Viktor is an OPEN SKELETON CHARACTER, who can be applied for!

[achaionrp-blog]

Presenting FINLEY PAGE! Returning to Achaion for his SECOND SEASON, he holds the mantle of IOLAUS, THE ASSISTANT. Some of the fans say he looks a lot like TOM HOLLAND. Welcome to Achaion: The Best of our Heroes. Let’s take a closer look at this hero’s performance.

Tactics: he relies primarily on his brain, on a photographic memory, a determined attention to detail, and a vast database of complex knowledge that most people have discarded as insignificant (the most powerful pressure points, the weakest bones, the most vulnerable organs; plants with healing remedies, ways to build first aid from nothing but the environment around him, how to navigate with only the stars as a guide). his upbringing in a military family gifted him with (reluctant) experience with basic hand-to-hand combat and boxing, alongside a familiarity with handling and identifying various firearms.

Harmatia: smaller in stature than his competitors and more lean than toned, he knows he is no formidable opponent when it comes to physical competition. he is fast (it runs in the family) and agile, and strict household rules shaped him into the fit, healthy young man he is today. but he is no adonis, and certainly no heracles and, despite his elementary training, once he’s locked in close combat with an opponent, the odds shift frighteningly out of his favor. and though, in many ways, his genius is an advantage, it becomes a disadvantage when he begins to overthink, questioning his instincts and hesitating when he should be acting. his reluctance to be on the show translates into his being easily intimidated by his more comfortable, more glamorous peers, leading him to second guess his choices (and his chances) even more.

He is a boy. He is a genius. Some time along the way of time’s impossible trail, someone glued those words together. They were slapped onto his forehead the first time he slipped colored blocks into the right spot, stayed there loud and invisible every time he finished another book or inadvertently outsmarted another teacher.

“He’s learning at a rate that I can’t teach. He’s truly gifted.”

There was no skipping grades in his world, in his parents’ world, a world of uniform and structure, of high security bases and reveille at the crack of dawn. He knew very little freedom outside of his books, the rigidity of their hard-backed covers nothing in comparison to strict schedules, before school, after school, in the morning, at night. His hair stayed short and his manners stayed good, his clothes stayed wrinkle-free, like his parents’ uniforms, his strange, whimsical fascination with nature and time and space kept to himself. He craved the swirling unpredictable loops of the unknown, the ones in the sky above, the ones deep beneath the sea, the ones hanging in the unseen balance between it all, all which had no place in his world of cement and fences and perfectly straight lines.

“I’d recommend homeschooling, a private tutor maybe, someone who can keep up with him.” “We move around too much it’d be…it’d be impossible.” “They have programs online now, for kids like him.” “We shouldn’t take him out of school. It’s the only interaction he gets with kids his age. They need each other.” He looked up hopefully from where he sat solving a six by six Rubix cube for the third time since they’d arrived. “I could do both,” sheepishness crawled into his expression, pink and light as he averted his eyes to a spot just in front of where his feet swung from his chair. He could feel both pairs of eyes on him, his mother surprised, his teacher impressed. He’d interrupted. He knew better than to interrupt, “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Ironically, all the rigidity and structure in the world meant relocating at the drop of the dime, with no room for protest. Moving was always an order, and orders were never disobeyed. He’d been smarter than his parents since he was ten so he was smart enough to know he could never tell them no. He wanted more than plain t-shirts and boxed rations and free movies on the base. But his sister never seemed to mind, except when one guardian was deployed without warning for long, indefinite stretches of time. She made friends everywhere she went, real friends, good friends, where his friendships rarely every scratched the surface; it was hard to keep conversation with peers when his own matching unidentifiable accent cupped words that sounded stilted and cumbersome next to theirs.

“It’s freezing out there. Swear I get pneumonia before Christmas.” “Actually the cold causing illness is a common misconception. The cold virus, ironically enough, thrives in warm environments, about 91 degrees, whereas cells that fight infection actually increase when you go out into the cold. It’s your body’s natural way of fighting the stress of freezing temperatures.” The silence among the group before the subject changed was suffocating. He made a point of staying quiet the rest of lunch.

Where they saw a safe haven, a home, he saw a prison. But he did his best, for his family, keeping his intelligence under wraps to avoid embarrassing his sister or making his parents look bad to their uniformed peers. He listened to his own peers, smiled and nodded, laughed along with banal humor, hid his fascination with the most minute of life’s miracles, got lost in knowledge while the rest of the base (in yet another new country) slept.

It wasn’t all bad, not when his family was truly loving. They were strict, but never unkind. The outbursts from his father were quelled by calm words from his mother (sometimes, when they were both in uniform, he’d squint hard until he could no longer tell them apart). As he grew older and more vocal about how little he wished to follow in his parents’ footsteps, about how much he disapproved of all of it, tension between he and his father solidified. He would never be the model son the man had hoped for, there were no badges or athletic scholarships in his future, only vast streams of knowledge and a strong urge to change the world, and even as he approached his second decade of life did he feel guilty for it.

“What’s this?” He plucked the thick stack of paper with his name on it from the coffee table, wary of the suited group of strangers filing past him out the front door, smiling at him through closed lips like trained robots. His father stood nearby, in his cleanest work clothes, intimidating as ever. “A contract.” “A contract…” he repeated, his backpack sliding off his shoulder (but not to the floor; the living room floor was no place for backpacks…or clothes or shoes or mud or hair or anything really) as he lifted the first page. He handled it with the same care he might if he were diffusing a bomb, ACHAION: THE BEST OF OUR HEROES, sprawled across the top of every page in huge black lettering. His reading comprehension carried him through the first three pages of complex legal jargon as if it were a nursery rhyme, albeit far more frightening. “Dad, this is for a reality show. And why…why is my name on it?” “We can’t afford your tuition on our own. Even with the scholarship. It’s a good school and I’m proud of you, but it isn’t cheap. It’d be cheaper if you-” “I’m not doing ROTC, dad.” “Don’t interrupt.” “I don’t even know if MIT has an ROTC p-” “They do, and a great one at that. But I know you won’t do it, and I won’t force you to.” The pause hung between them like a spiderweb, frail and impossibly strong all at once. The implication sunk into the space between them like unsuspecting prey, trapped and panicky. “Dad- You can’t be serious- People die on that show.” “I thought you were too smart for urban legends.” “Dad-” “They approached us, they made a good case. You’ll learn some discipline, pick up some social skills, get into better shape, maybe even win, and actually work for something in this household for once. Real work, not just reading your way through life.” “That’s-that’s ridiculous, that’s so fucking ridiculous-” “Language!” “Just because I don’t want to end up a brainwashed, gun-toting meathead like y-” The sound of his father’s strong hand striking his cheek echoed off the walls of the otherwise empty room. Pain bloomed under his skin, prickly and hot, stinging his pride just as badly as his face. His eyes stayed glued to the floor, his face tilted to where it’d been pushed by the impact, his backpack still hanging heavy from the crook of his elbow. The silence between them that had been momentarily shattered began to assimilate into the space all around them, weighted and unbreathable. “You’ll do the show. End of discussion.” His eyes were bright, watery with the shock of the slap, but he did not move, did not blink, did not dare to breathe deep enough to make the rise and fall of his chest visible under his shirt. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes only moved to catch movement across the room, his sister, staring and still, no doubt drawn from her room by the noise. She made none.

He knew better than to say no to his father.