#his hair is so obnoxiously yellow whoops

[duck-ducks]

Chapter 4: tales of long past

As obnoxious and terrifying as they were, it was dawning on Gladiolus that they were just as annoying as humans could be. While Jazz, who she was riding in, had silently accepted that she wasn’t interested in conversing for the time being, Sideswipe had not.

“We’ve probably been one earth since you were a kid-” While he continued on with his rambling, her attention was drawn to the golden one.

This one had said nothing since the drive began. All it did was circle the one pulling Deadend, who had done what she assumed was the equivalent of going limp when he, in his car form, was latched to the back of a larger red pickup truck.

Sideswipe just wouldn’t quit. “Are you out of high school?” He was like a toddler who just learned how to ask questions. Only the questions were structured better more detailed.

“Uh, yeah I am, I graduated years ago.” His stream of consciousness that spouted out of what she assumed was his mouth, although he was currently a car so she really couldn’t be sure, was while almost irritating was also in a way grounding. She could just listen to him as he seemed to have no need of any responses to anything he said or asked.

If only his volume could be lowered just a little then she would probably be able to fall asleep, alas he was just loud enough to make her pay attention to him should she stop thinking so hard.

She jumped slightly in her seat when she glance out the window to see the walls of a tunnel. It seemed Sideswipe's talking had served the unintentional purpose of distracting her as she hadn’t noticed that her surroundings had changed from the paved road and open sky to an entirely metal interior.

Even inside Jazz she felt that wherever they were should be cold. She could imagine the feel of the cool metal walls.

Slowing to a stop, Jazz opened his door to let her out. It was warm, not the hot kind of warm that made you slightly sweaty but the cozy kind of warm. The kind that still allows a cool breeze to feel nice but not as a relief.

This place was just as big as the room with the circular structure she had been in earlier after her original abduction; however, this room held many others.

Not only were there more robots of wildly different sizes and colors but also humans. Humans from many walks of life if their clothes and ages were anything to go by.

A group of teenagers whooped and ran around a smaller yellow robot, closely watched by a serious pink one.

A woman with dark hair wearing scrubs was conversing with a red and white robot who had red medical crosses on his shoulders. She could guess he must be an ambulance.

Small groups of robots had humans sitting or standing on their shoulders.

The floor didn’t shake, it didn’t even tremble as she would have expected it to when one of the largest robots made his way towards her. He knelt down in front of Gladiolus, she wanted to back up but that would mean bumping into Jazz’s door.

Although she couldn’t see his mouth, if he even had one, his voice was gentle, soothing, the kind of voice she’d like to hear while listening to an audio book. “Hello, My name is Optimus Prime. I understand that this is all frightening and confusing, if you would allow it I would like to explain who we are and why we are here.”

He held out his huge hand in front of her like he meant to greet her with a hand shake. She wasn’t sure if that’s what he wanted but that’s how she would opt to take it, she could only really “shake” one of his fingers. It must have looked comedic to anyone watching, Optimus had to put his other hand on the ground to keep balance while crouching so low.

“I’m Gladiolus.” she brought her arms awkwardly straight by her sides.

He stared at her for a moment, not saying anything, simply taking in her presence. Gladiolus had never been the sort to think herself important or in the makings of greatness but, the way he looked at her made her feel like he could see more than she could about herself. As though he knew what she could become and was trying to find a way to bring it about, like an artist with blank canvas.

His mask opened and he smiled at her. His face reminded her of her grandfather, warm and welcoming, the kind of face that had seen a lot but held onto the joy of what came next. “Perhaps somewhere quiet would benefit this conversation.” standing at his full height, she was surprised that he didn’t seem looming. Optimus had this open air about him, it made you want to do what he said.

Gladiolus went to nod only to stop, she was sure there was much to say about the situation but something felt off. Optimus took slow steps, he didn’t try to rush her.

It was now she saw it, all the robots that had rescued her were present except for the one pulling Deadend. Where had he taken him? What would they do with him? She wanted to ask, wanted to know what would become of the one troublemaker they caught.

Instead she said nothing.

She followed Optimus through hallways, these halls lacked the uniformity of the ones the Stunticons carried her through. The walls were various colors and other robots and humans passed them. It was bright and jovial in atmosphere. Jaring when compared to her earlier experiences the past few hours.

Optimus didn’t talk until they reached their destination, it appeared to be a giant living room. Couches and end tables, what she assumed was a massive tv, and a few robots milling around. There was a raised section with human sized things of the same caliber on it, along with a couple people about, most of which were conversing in little groups.

Optimus gestured in the direction of a staircase leading to the human area. Within the area, Gladiolus was sat close to the edge with Optimus sitting in a chair he had pulled over in front of her.

And then he spoke. He talked of everything she couldn't have even known to ask about. The war, how it started, Megatron and his Decepticons, Optimus Prime and his Autobots. After giving her an overview of the big picture he began to explain the details, what Cybertronians were, where they were from, why they were here.

He didn’t require her to ask questions he answered any she may have had of each topic before she could ask for any clarifications. It was like he knew what she was going to ask, like he had had this conversation more than a few times before. Considering how many other humans she saw he must practically have this conversation scripted by now.

Gladiolus couldn’t tell you how long he spoke at her, but she was enraptured by what he said. “I hope to one day gain peace between our factions, however I fear we have been at odds far too long to ever reconcile.” his features turned to a hard sadness. Throughout most of his tale Optimus had been informative first and foremost but as it came to more recent events he grew more bitter in tone, it was barely noticeable, the kind of bitterness someone tried to hide to save face, a tired bitterness one born of horrors you can never unsee. Gladiolus didn’t have all the context to understand Optimus Prime's bitterness or the horrors he granted a description to her. All she had was the sadness she kept close to her heart and questions that wanted answers.

Questions she wouldn’t leave unvoiced this time.

“The Decepticons you capture, what happens to them?” She wondered if they had some kind of geneva convention or if they followed the human one while on earth. She thought about Dead end and what may become of him in enemy custody.

There was a glint in Optimus’s eyes that Gladiolus couldn't read, his finials perked with interest. “If you are concerned for Deadend, I assure you he will not be mistreated. For now he will wait in the brig until we can question him.”

It was a slightly unsatisfying answer. “What about the other Stunticons? Will they try to get him back, I know you said Decepticons have less comradery among them but they seemed kinda close.”

“The Stunticons are a gestalt and a young one at that, their coding demands that they maintain a certain amount of integration with each other. And having been created on this planet I believe they have adapted to a more human type of familial relationship then most Cybertron created gestalts would”

“So they're considered young by your standards. Some of the things they did, did reminded me of children.” she said it in a joking tone, meaning no truth to the statement.

Optimus nods in agreement “I suppose that is one way of looking at them.

Although they onlined with basic functions and knowledge, they have not been online for long and still have much to learn.”

“What do you mean? How old are they?”

“They are only three earth solar cycles in age. They are among some of the youngest Cybertronians currently living.”

“Excuse me. They’re what.” Gladiolus stood from her chair, she heard chairs behind her slide against the floor as other people stood as well.

“Approximately Three earth solar cycles in age.” Optimus was baffled by her startled reaction.

“Three solar cycles? As in three years? They’re three years old?”

“Woah wait Prime I didn’t know that!” A middle aged man with brown hair mostly hidden under a bright yellow hardhat spoke up. “You’ve been fighting kids this whole time. Oh my god Optimus you put a toddler in the brig. Is he unsupervised?” It was nice to not be the only one put off by this.

“Sparky we would never leave someone kept in the brig to their own devices, he is being monitored remotely. And while it is unfortunate that the Stunticons are as young as they are, I don't think they can be considered with the same age standards as humans.”

“You said that calling them children is one way of looking at them.” Gladiolus pointed out. She crossed her arms at almost the same interval as ‘Sparky’ although she popped a hip to the side while he leaned forward slightly and squinted at Optimus’s widening eyes.

“Perhaps I should get Jazz to explain the difference in our cultures in this regard.” Optimus didn’t stand up but he raised his hands palms outwards and moved as though to make it so he could make a quick exit, his finials slowly moved down. Gladiolus wanted to equate it to a timid cornered animal but left that train of thought behind to get back on topic.

“No wonder they’re so misbehaved if they have Megatron as a role model.” Sparky added thoughtfully.

From the little she had actually seen of him and the descriptions Optimus had given her were enough to know the Decepticon leader couldn't be a good parent to five toddler-teenagers.

“I won’t disprove you of that opinion however Deadend is still a dangerous Decepticon soldier no matter his current age.” Optimus said.

“Seems to me you captured him pretty easily especially with the whole two against one sideswipe and the gold one had going on. How long was that fight before they retreated.”

“Actually I kinda gotta give that one to Optimus, gestalts aren't just a fancy word for a close group of mechs, it's another name for combiners, mechs who can -combine- with one another to make a bigger stronger bot. The Stunticons can combine to make Menasor, a giant destructive pain in the ass.” Sparky informed her.

It still didn’t sit right with Gladiolus and from his expression it didn’t with Sparky either.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial for Gladiolus to be introduced to the others.” Optimus addressed Sparky, it felt like a cheap shot at redirecting.

“Right.” it was clear with Sparky’s tone this would not be the last of this conversation. “Well shoot I haven’t even properly introduced myself. The names Sparkplug Witwicky, me and my son Spike were some of the first to meet the Autobots when they came to earth.”

“Gladiolus Roberts, I got kidnapped by the Stunticons today.” Optimus chuffed at this but added no other comment. Gladiolus couldn’t tell if this was of amusement or alarm.

“Oh yeah, that's about as fun as introductions to the Decepticons get.” Sparkplug nodded with his hands on his hips while looking into the distance, a very ‘yup, that's how it is’ dad pose.

Gladiolus jumped when a creak sounded from a nearby vent. Later she would swear she saw yellow optics through the vent cover, now she wouldn’t notice right away, she would look back to Sparkplug and continue a conversation.

Buzzsaw couldn’t know that Gladiolus wasn’t in the right mind to process that she had seen her. For all she knew the human woman had seen her get sloppy in enemy territory and let it slide. Surely Soundwave wouldn’t mind her taking a little long to gather some personal interest information. Not like Deadend would cease to exist in the Autobot brig while he waited.

Buzzsaw opened a comm line. Perhaps her master would let her use this.

 

Gladiolus was driven home by a bot. He told her he would drive her to work the next day and that he would pick her up and bring her back to the Auto bot base afterwards. She wasn’t given a name and she didn’t ask. She would in the morning but she had enough of learning names today, of formal introductions or the lack of them.

She went inside her house that for the first time, in a long time, felt far too quiet.

She didn’t shower or change clothes, just climbed into bed.

She ended the day trying hard to stop thinking. To stop wondering. To turn her mind off and fall into either the mercy or the curse of the dream realm.

Come the morning she wouldn’t remember her dreams. She wouldn’t remember the conversations had with those long passed that spoke of futures and ends, of yellow optics and purple visors. She wouldn’t remember how they warned her.

She wouldn’t remember.

She would simply wake.

[troglobite]

i'm bored & in a permanent Stand By Mode bc of Life Situations, so for absolutely nobody but me, a comprehensive ranking and review of all villagers who have lived on my very first ever acnh island, illyria

ranked from worst to best for those currently on my island, i've also included their current catchphrases.

29. huck

-500000000/10. he was the worst. his face and nasty grey and yellow design made me nauseous. he was obnoxious and irritating. his house was ugly. i was forced to take him as my first smug villager. i resented him every single day. i even tried to give him a chance, and i just hated him all the more bc he kept saying and "translating" specifically spanish words incorrectly. i hated his guts. i hit him with nets, locked him inside his house and in random spots around the island whenever i saw him. i ran inside when he'd try to talk to me. and this was all before i even knew how many cool and adorable villagers were out there. that is how much i hate huck.

28. joey

0/10 i didn't interact with him at all. he was an autofill that happened purely by accident. tammy moved out and i fucked up time traveling and he moved in. i was DEVASTATED. however i got SO LUCKY. i jumped ahead two weeks to kickstart the moveout process and instead i got blanche in my campsite. i spent a few hours getting her to kick joey out. anyway, i didn't have time to develop a personal hatred of joey, but his appearance Upsets me. what's w the eyebrows and the dead eyes? no shade, but the diaper looks WEIRD when no other villagers really wear bottoms except for the superhero looking ones. what's your deal, dude?

27. rhonda

2/10 initially she was fine, but she ended up getting in fights with katt and vivian and flora all the time, so i grew to dislike her. initially i was like "oh cool, i like her white and purple design" but eventually she just got weird to look at. her catchphrase is bigfoot and that was. idk man it got weird after a while. i didn't really get along w her. i let her leave p much as soon as she asked, iirc.

26. benedict

3/10 he was a cutie. his cheeks looked silly. he was mostly sad all the time? and talked abt bugs too much. i know that's what the lazy villagers do, but truly he was OBSESSED. like i had sasha later on--benedict was OBSESSED, okay? and truly he mostly cried and was hurt and sad by the other residents of the island. it just didn't work out.

25. pinky

4/10 i went into the villager hunt without really any idea who i was looking for. this was quite early on. she's so forgettable i literally got to position 18 on the list before i realized i hadn't ranked her yet. whoops. she also had the MOST annoying habit of sitting EXACTLY WHERE I WAS TERRAFORMING. EVERY TIME!!!!! fucking maddening. she's also the only villager i've had that was significantly taller than my character, and i didn't really like it. she had her cute moments, though.

24. wolfgang

5/10 he was fine. i found him on a nmt island. i had no complaints. he was okay. his house was nice. but he was quite boring. i took him bc i didn't feel like continuing to hunt or look for anyone on nookazon (or whoever i wanted simply wasn't available on nookazon). truly just straight down the middle unremarkable. he was mainly a proof of concept that i could have a cranky villager as long as it was a wolf, bc the voice combo for them doesn't make me feel sick (butch the dog's voice makes me feel so nauseous). he was also the cranky to teach me all the reactions.

23. rosie

6/10 listen it's going to be increasingly difficult to rank all the villagers i've really liked. rosie was fine. she was in the campsite, i took her bc she was fun and interesting and purple (fight me) and i was bored. i believe she kicked out agnes? anyway, she was fun. i liked her. she didn't really offer anything unique and eventually her face kinda freaked me out. but she was fun.

22. lopez

7/10 beautiful eyes, look, hair, horns, everything darling. what a gorgeous lad. i'm not fond of orange so there's that. he was the first smug i allowed to stick around long enough to teach me all the reactions. he was fun while he lasted, but eventually it was just that his vibe didn't mesh with illyria's vibe. such is life. but he was a fun get from the campsite. i went through a brief campsite phase, i guess. lol

21. audie

8/10 fun and silly w a cool backstory and house but as you can see from the above, i'm not fond of orange. i eventually got sick of her design. she was also kind of aloof for some reason? it was odd. idk we never got THAT close. i found her on an island and took her bc i was like "oh she's named after that grandma!" so that was fun.

20. shino

8/10 once again v cute and fun. the novelty of her design was v cool. i was v excited to have found her on an island. i was looking for dobie but i figured i'd take her bc she'd sell for a lot on nookazon which would help me either buy or find dobie. she was really fun to have around while i had her! i also got to redesign her house which was nice. she was also kind of aloof, but i think i got her picture p quickly. so y'know, fun times.

19. whitney

8/10 just pretend all these 8/10 villagers are separated by .1 every time. lol whitney has a v pretty design and a lovely purple home interior. she was surprisingly sweet for a snooty villager and she gave me her photo quickly, too. she was chill but loved hanging out. i really enjoyed her. i almost took her a second time recently but meh. lol i think i had her at the same time as wolfgang briefly? not sure. but the trio of wolves, if it happened, was surely fun. she and vivian at least really got along which was cute.

18. ione

8/10 love her design (apart from her silly hair lol) and her eyes when she got shocked or excited were so cute. i amiibo'd her in to replace aurora. she also gave me the idea for the area around her house which ended up being really pretty. the redesign of her house was like, kind of meh. but it worked. anyway, i had her a good long while. she was cute and fun to have around.

17. sasha

9/10 he took SO LONG to ask me for a catchphrase, a greeting, and a nickname! SO LONG! i did find him on an island though which was special. and his eyes were literally so fucking cute that i hemmed and hawed abt letting him go for AGES. his dialogue got stale quickly, but he definitely didn't talk abt bugs as much as benedict did. he was more about the food which was significantly cuter to me. i also built him an entire sweets and plushies shop in front of his house. all v fun and cute. allowed me to explore my saccharine sweet side.

16. tammy

9/10 what a DELIGHT of a cub villager. she looks sassy and silly and yet So Fucking Chill. dream blunt rotation, y'know what i mean? i don't like yellow but i loved her. she never got in fights with other villagers. she and cat got along. she even got along w vivian. her house was really cute--i loved that we had some of the same furniture. i just loved having her around. i don't even remember how she came to move to the island, but it might've been an autofill or a really quick villager hunt. she's not someone i would've taken had i known the breadth of villagers available, but i'm so glad i had her on the island. i love her.

15. claudia

9/10 one of the first villagers i found on a nmt island after i was forced to take huck. i had so much trouble letting claudia go--i convinced a friend to take her bc she's a tiger and therefore technically a cat and fit her entirely cat island aspiration. lol i LOVE her purple and pink design. child me would've wanted as much merch of her as possible bc of the pink and purple shit. lol she was fun and kind and funny and i liked her house and her music. she and vivian were friendly. lol

14. kiki

9/10 maybe i just haven't built up a relationship with her yet, but she's the lowest scoring current resident of illyria. she just keeps saying/doing shit where i'm like ??? okay? excuse me? initially she was PRECIOUS. she was a campsite move in and i used her to kick out ione (i have like 5 ione amiibos, it's fine lol). i love her design for the most part but i DO regret giving her hats in the hopes they would be cute on her--they are not. why do only the beanies cover up cats' ears and NO OTHER HATS? it looks so stupid! anyway she's fun, she's cute, i like her. but really i mostly knocked it out of the park with her HOUSE. i redesigned the fuck out of that hideous monstrosity and it's SO CUTE, especially the outside. she hasn't asked me for a catchphrase yet and instead just took goldie's which is RIDICULOUS. it's woof!

13. blanche

9/10 MY BIRTHDAY TWIN! MY SAVIOR WHO KICKED OUT JOEY! i love her. she was so wonderful to have. i love her design, she's gorgeous. she and vivian were great friends. she got along with everyone. celebrating our birthdays together was so cool. her house was cute, too, esp in a time before we could redesign them. i was v grateful to have her and i was sad to let her leave. but i think i made sure she went to someone's island instead of getting voided. it's been a long time so idr. lol

12. agnes

9/10 the only pig whomst i love. what a fun gorgeous design. the sickeningly fashionable black/pink color combo? her cool af house and interior? her sassy vibes and how much she loved me and hanging out w me? impeccable, unstoppable, amazing. there's nothing to say except i loved having her around. found her on an island, and am so glad that i took her.

11. aurora

9/10 my darling sweetie pie, siblings w roald, cutie darling who was so round and sweet and cute. i got her off of nookazon to match roald so they could be siblings and i moved them nextdoor to each other briefly and their interactions were ADORABLE. eventually life on the island got a little stale so i wanted to shake things up. i had (have) 4 normal/sweet villagers, and i'd given aurora a vacation home and just felt that anything i built her was going to be. eh, idk, weird or not fit on the island. but luckily someone on nookazon who DESPERATELY wanted aurora, the way i had, took her from me. they loved what aurora was wearing and we celebrated happily that she went to a great loving home ☺️

10. roald

9/10 one of my two original starters. round meme boi who loved exercise and is round af. i love him. he's silly and sweet and stupid. he looks SO GOOD in the outfits i give him. it's adorable. i redesigned his house a few times to make it acceptable for a penguin who loves exercise. lol he's been getting a little boring lately, like he doesn't quite fit, but he's literally been on the island SINCE ITS INCEPTION. some of the very first screenshots/pictures i have from acnh in march 2020 include him!!! if i decide to let him go, he HAS to go to someone specifically. i can't void my perfect blue round boi. his catchphrase has been the same for years, as well: gaymerz.

9. flora

10/10 i was SO SAD to let her go, but for whatever reason, i decided to. luckily, she autofilled on a friend's island so i was able to visit her later on!!! she recognized me and we chatted and i about cried bc she's so fucking sweet. something abt her is just unbearably endearing. yes she talked abt popstar stuff, but more often she just talked abt fashion and friends. she was SO CUTE. she loved giving me nicknames and asking for catchphrases. her house was so cute. and her favorite song became MY favorite song for a while! kk condor. it's so fucking good. anyway, i love flora, i love my darling. i hope she had a nice time on the island of lesbos. if she's still there, i hope she's having a good time. if she left, i hope she got delivered or voided somewhere else nice. 💜

THIS IS WHERE THINGS BECOME NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE

8. poppy

10/10 her design is so unbearably cute. her little tail. her ears. the color red she is. her little FACE. her tiny little v mouth! her autumn-themed home! how adorable she looks in all the outfits i give her! she's been v sweet to me. i wanted her VERY badly back in 2020. a (former) friend of mine found her on a villager hunt and took her just for me. before they reset their island, they made it so poppy was ready to move out so i could take her. i've had her ever since. she's just so dang cute. she became part of my normal/sweet triad with goldie and maple. her catchphrase is peanut!

6. a two-way tie between maddie and shep

11/10 shep is the newest resident on illyria. i found him on a 238 ticket hunt where i was actually looking for punchy or purrl (both of whom i have previously passed on....😬 Regret lol). he was a back-up, but i met him and he was immediately so sweet and so cute and i just LOVED him. maddie i also found on a villager hunt--i was actually specifically looking for her! i'm a sucker for the dogs and a sucker for a lot of the peppys, so i REALLY wanted her. a friend of mine had her and i was like "holy shit, if you ever want her to move out, i'll take her" and then instead i found her on a villager hunt myself. lol they're tied because maddie's been here a lot longer, so the novelty is wearing off. i need to revitalize her living arrangement. but she's still ranked super high bc of just how fucking cute and sweet she is. how much she loves everything i do, how many times she's asked to come over or for me to come over. she's a DELIGHT and her design is SO FUCKING CUTE!!!! and shep is new so we don't have that unbreakable bond, yet! but oh my god he's adorable. he's SO FUN to dress up. i've given him so many hats and glasses which is the funniest possible thing. he loves the color blue and yet always wears a brown argyle sweater i gave him. he's so hilarious and sweet. unlike previous smug villagers i've had (mainly the first one, he who shan't be named), shep ALWAYS gets his languages CORRECT. and rather than being egotistical, he's concerned w aesthetic and FRIENDSHIP. he's delightfully sweet and fun. together, they're two of my three beloved dog villagers, and i love them. maddie's catchphrase is lesbi-chic, and shep hasn't asked for one, yet. he just took dobie's, which is palone-omi (which is polari for lesbian).

5. vivian

11/10 another one of my OG villagers. i think she was 7th to the island overall. she just...idk what it is about her vibe, but i can't get over her. delicate, elegant, silly, untouchable, kind of 80s/90s but in a classic way. i love her design, and i love how much she loves me. lol not all snooties get THAT close/sweet. i love her for it. she also rarely asks to leave, which i appreciate. lol i've been struggling to complete her house area bc of inspiration and practical difficulties wrt having inventory space and doing terraforming--esp since i now wanna redo a lot of stuff anyway. but she does currently have domain over a sushi restaurant next to the beachfront fish market. lol anyway, i love her. her catchphrase has been the same for years, too: sapph-chic.

4. goldie

12/10 the villager who replaced he who shan't be named! my FIRST EVER time actually hunting for a villager! i agonized and stressed and panicked. at the time it was EARLY days, so friends bought and donated nmts to the cause! lol (bought w nook miles, not irl $). found her on ticket 27 which i still remember to this day. she's such a cuteipie. i gave her a bakery/restaurant with all of the pompompurrin furniture. she also wears the clothes from that set. you cannot comprehend how cute she is, i stg. even though her face design is a little strange, i simply can't let her go. i love her. her original catchphrase was so cute i've refused to change it. right now it's "woof woof" though. lol

AND NOW THE TOP THREE

3. maple

12/10 in terms of character design, she is, objectively, The Cutest Villager Of All Time. she's so simple and classic and perfect like that. she was the SECOND villager i went specifically looking for after goldie, and i got her on ticket 6. there was no way i was passing her up. someone i knew on figure skating twitter had her and let her go bc she was "boring" and i was like BLASPHEMY! luckily i found her myself not long after. lol anyway, i've redesigned her house, i've given her so many clothes, i just celebrated her birthday recently! it's june 15th and i'm back on june 17th in-game bc of how i've been playing. lol anyway, i love her. her dialogue refreshes and gets interesting again every once in a while, and i have a video of her dancing on a festivale stage--fucking ADORABLE. lol her catchphrase is honeybun. lol

2. dobie

15/10 best old man grandpa what a wonderful design what incredible vibes. i gave him an antique shop to run! i've got pictures of him sweeping in it. literal perfection. his dialogue is always so funny or sweet. he's always cooking. he's just so goddamn endearing and fun to have around. i gave him one of my spare mom's sweaters and bro he looks adorable in it. i redid his house, too, bc i was like THIS MAN HAS NOWHERE TO SIT OR LAY DOWN!!! so i gave him a bed and a couch as well bc i'm like !!! HIS OLD BONES!!! THEY GOTTA REST! HE MUST HAVE PLACES TO NAP!!!! he simply deserves the best and that's all he gets. i found him about 70 tickets into a hunt specifically for him? it was raining and i loved him. success! once again, his catchphrase is palone-omi.

katt

50000/10 my first my best my darling. my everything!!! what a perfectly adorable strange unique cute design. i LOVE her. she is my wife in the game. we're married. she runs the farm and i run the farmer's market for her. i redesigned her house to give her a ~cool vibe~ to match her history of playing in/loving various bands. i'm thinking of redesigning it again to make it more homey for her! but she is the litmus test that all new villagers must pass. if they get along w katt, they're good in my book. not getting along w katt has been the death knell for a few (rhonda in particular). vivian and katt have had disagreements, but not in a LONG time, and they get along v well now. katt's design is perfect and adorable. perfect line between real/believable colors (an unofficial metric for my favorite villager designs) and cartoony cuteness. her white paws? so cute. the white tip on her striped tail? stop, adorable. HER LITTLE TEEFS?! SHE HAS SHARP POINTY TEEFS!!!! SO CUTE!!!! i can't stand it, i love her. katt is forever the best most important wonderful darling sweetiepie ever. she is my first acnh villager and the best. i want an amiibo of her just to frame it somewhere. i want an amiibo of her to use in all future animal crossing games if she doesn't show up of her own accord. katt is also the perfect soft butch lesbian. i give her cool clothes, which she loves, all in red and black for the most part. she loves being butch and cozy. her catchphrase has been and always will be some variation of "gay purride", the first wonderful catchphrase gay pun i ever came up with. i've stuck with it ever since. katt is perfect in every way and i simply will not hear a bad word against her. i love her so much. if i could have a girlfriend p much exactly like katt irl, i'd be happy. what a name! katt! what a vibe! sweet and mischievous but so heartfelt and sincere! what a lil cutie w such fun taste! she loves gardening and experimenting w recipes! she loves naps and staying up late! her favorite song is kk disco, and objectively fun song! she loves singing and dancing all around the island! i love katt so much. ☺️💜

[overlyimmersed]

Nightmares and Daydreams

A Gravity Falls AU.

Hi @verysorrytobother​ Stanticore anon, revealing my true identity to share this with you! I wasn’t sure how a post this long would go over as an ask, so I decided to do it this way. I hope this is ok.

I’ve been working on this for a while and I hope it goes over well enough. The artwork took me the most time.

As a car crash victim is slowly dying, her mental self panics in the mindscape. She's offered a deal to save her life. Let the game begin.

(Content warnings: Blood. Descriptions of serious injuries.)

"What..." she whispered to herself, staring at the other in disbelief.

"Yep!" he confirms, in a high-pitched, grating, inappropriately upbeat tone, "Dead as a doornail, kid!- Well technically you still have a few more seconds till you brain totally ceases to function. Better make up your mind while you still have one!"

She's still staring dumbly at him. How can he be this nonchalant about it?! A half second ago she was sitting in the front seat of the family truck, a totally routine trip to the store- she never liked trucks but her dad's a carpenter so they need the hauling space. At least it's a pretty shade of blue- and the next she's here, laying face down in a black void with this prick this- this...All Seeing Eye? He's like the Illuminati symbol, but with arms and legs and a top hat. Caution sign yellow and talking to her- or at her. Bill. Freaking. Cipher. Every time he 'speaks' he flashes with light- no mouth so does it really count as speaking? More like his voice is being projected right into her mind- ... And he's telling her that she freakin died! Can't he see how messed up this is?! Can't he sympathize at all!? Then again, it's Bill. She ought to know better.

She ought to know better. She's seen this show a hundred times, she knows nothing good comes from dealing with Cipher. But she doesn't have time to be careful, she doesn't have the luxury of weighing options.

"Tick-tock, Car Wreck!" The obnoxious voice insists again, forcing her out of her stupor, his outstretched hand now alight with blue fire.

Her face scrunches up in a loud cringe, eyes screwed shut and teeth bared, and she swings her hand till it lands solidly in his. Crazed cackling resounds as the deal is struck, but it falls to simple soundtrack as her senses try to sort out what's going on.

She'd expected the blue fire to burn, or at least feel like something, but it didn't. Instead her entire being is flung into a...whirl? Free fall? Something that makes her stomach jump into her throat, and gives her vertigo.

The sensation stops suddenly, only to be replaced by a cacophony of new perceptions. She isn't sure which strikes her first, the sounds or the smell. Shrieks of agony and terror make up the next track of this bizarre playlist, punctuated by the reek of burnt hair. When her eyes fly open to try and make sense of it all, they have no luck. The sight that meets her is a sky of surreal, swirling, bastardized ribbons of every hue, like being inside a filthy bubble. Floating strewn about the space are pockmarked asteroids, and little else.

"So what'd ya think?" The grating voice rejoins the discord, drawing her shell-shocked gaze. "Home-sweet-home, huh? Well don't worry, you won't be here for very long. A deal's a deal, Car Wreck." With that que, and a snap of his fingers, she's falling again. This time untethered and unaccompanied. It takes her a moment to realize the scream ripping though the void is coming from her own throat. Once it hits her, so does something else, and the world goes black.

She wakes some time later, maybe moments maybe days. She has no way of knowing. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees, groggy and disoriented. It takes her a moment to notice the texture under her hands and focus her vision on it. It's grass. She sits up and looks around. "oh..." she says to herself, taking in the scenery. It's lovely, a grassy, sun soaked field. The sky made of churning colors like the last place she'd been, but they're pastel and much prettier. A warm breeze brushes past her face and she takes a deep breath of it, it smells sweet and warm, heavy with the scent of growing things, and for the first time since this started she finds some peace. Peace which is quickly shattered by a familiar, grating voice.

She jumps and whirls around so quick she falls onto her butt. There, floating just inches from where her head had been, is Bill. Laughing at her of course.

"Whoops! Didn't mean to scare you there, Car Wreck!" he claims, moving through the air to look around, then turning back around to look at her. "So how do you like the new digs?"

There's a beat of silence where she just stares at him again, but quickly she shakes off the shock and tries to respond. "Uh...It's nice." She lets her eyes roam around for a second, before returning to Bill, "Where are we?"

"This is the Realm of Daydreams! Your new HQ!" he answers, floating around behind her and making a grand gesture with his arms.

She turns her head to follow him, "Daydreams? HQ?"

"Yep! This is where you'll hang out when you're not puppeting your little pawns." He turns around to look at the scenery more himself. "Kinda dull if you ask me. Maybe you can do something about that!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh you know, some pillars of anguish, an alter of unholy fire, maybe a blood fountain or a couple of-" he gestures with each suggestion, like a landscaper creating a vision, until she cuts him off.

"No I mean," she finally pushes herself to a stand, teetering a little till she finds her balance. "Pawns?"

He turns back to her, "Oh yeah, which ones do you want anyway?" he waits a beat for an answer, but she just stares back at him, clearly not following. "Ugh, our deal?"

He hadn't really told her what the deal was, just mentioned a game and a second chance. "Uhh, I don't think you-"

"Oh right, you flesh bags need everything explained to you." he groans, rolling his eye, "Alright, here's the deal. We're gonna play a little game," he holds out his hand and a little hologram like projection appears showing an aerial view of a town. "and the people of this hick town are gonna be the pieces." ten little blue stick figures appear in the center of town, each with a little symbol above it's head. "If you win, you rejoin the land of the living!" a little magenta stick figure pops into existence next to the others and they all do a little happy dance. "If I win..." suddenly the whole projection goes up in flames, and she jerks her head back instinctively, "You burn with rest of those worthless mortals!" He bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter, which actually gives her some times to recover.

After a second of shocked staring, she blinks a few times then puts on as neutral an expression as she can. "Ok. So what are the rules?"

"Simple!" he answers, cutting off his laughter "We can't directly manipulate each other's pawns, and we can't interfere with the other's powers."

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything else is fair game"

"Ok...What are my powers?"

"Same as mine! Except you don't have to wait till someone falls asleep to get in their head."

"I see..." her eyes wander to the ground as she contemplates the information, and her hand reaches for the longest of her three necklaces to idly play with the spiked pendant. "So you can talk to them in dreams, and I can talk to them in daydreams."

"Bingo!"

She scrunches her nose a little, thinking of a few ways that could end up being annoying. "Alright, anything else I need to know?"

"Hmm, nope! That just about covers it. All that's left is to pick our pawns, I'll even let you go first!" And with that ten, glowing, blue symbols appear between them. She looks them over carefully, she knows who each symbol corresponds to- supposing the cartoon from her world is accurate. She considers the six-fingered hand, if she takes him out of Bill's control from the start that derails his whole plan as she knows it. But, then she'll have no clue what's up to at all, at least by letting Bill have the pawns she's familiar with she has a chance at guessing his moves. She reaches forward and touches the shooting star, it turns magenta and floats to hover closer to her.

"Interesting." Bill comments, though his tone doesn't sound very interested, as he makes a simple motion with his eye and the six-fingered hand settles beside him. She chooses the fish looking symbol next, and Bill's second choice in the pine tree. They go back and forth till they have five symbols each, Bill having the the six-fingered hand, the pine tree, the llama, the stitched heart, and the pentagram. While she has the shooting star, the fish, the bag of ice, the spectacles, and the question mark.

"Welp, that settles that. Nice picks you made there, lets hope they work out for ya, Car Wreck"

"Could you not call me that?" though it hardly sounds like a request.

"And what else should I call you?" Bill asks, collecting his symbols into one hand and placing the other on his...hip?

"How about my name? It's Maranwe."

"But Car Wreck fits you so much better! Just take a look!" he quips, snapping a full-length mirror into existence. Maranwe turns to look and gasps in horror. Bill breaks out into more cackling, "Well my work here is done! I'll let you get cleaned up, see ya around Car Wreck!" And with that he fades from existence.

Maranwe just stares, even as Bill disappears from 'her' realm, she can only stare at her destroyed refection. Her hair is messy- and she almost laughs that that's what her brain zeros in on first-, It's also dirty, some of the mess is actual dirt but several spots are matted with half-dry blood. Her face is in a similar condition, smeared with dirt and blood but she can see the wounds there. Scrapes and still oozing cuts, bruises forming on one cheek bone and under her eyes. Her nose isn't quite right...broken probably. Her vision skims over her whole body for a second, making note of similar injuries where tears in her clothes reveal them. It's not as bad as she would expect a car crash victim to look- "except for that" Her mind screams suddenly while all her mouth can do is gasp, as her attention lands dizzyingly on her neck. It's...purple, but also red? There's no spilled blood but it still looks ugly, and the worst part is the...bump. It's not hard to figure out that it's a misaligned bone. Without the pain to tell her she never would have noticed, her neck is broken. Very broken. How is she holding her head up right... Probably because this isn't actually a physical body. She wonders if this is what killed her, or if there's something inside, something she can't see, that did the trick.

Whatever it is, she can't be seen like this. And she really really doesn't want to look like this for her own sake. Bill said she could 'clean herself up'? How exactly... She thinks about how Bill's powers tend to work and tries to concentrate on a cleaner, less beat up mental image of herself. She lifts her hand to her cheek and grazes her finger tips across it, a trail of sparkles follow the touch and the skin underneath returns to normal. She relaxes a little, watching the disaster wipe off her face like cheap make-up. She keeps the image in her mind and closes her eyes, cupping her hands in front of herself and imagining the sparkles pooling in them. Then she splashes the sparkles over he face, like a girl in a face wash commercial, and imagines the glittering dust washing over her entire body, cleaning away the mess and injuries. And when she opens her eyes, that's exactly what's happened. Her reflection shows her whole and unwounded, even her clothes are fixed.

The next thing she does is smooth her hair down, mostly an instinct since it's still messy, and the sparkles trail after her hands, tidying the strands as if she'd just brushed them. She watches her reflection's mouth quirk up a little in a small smirk. So she can just change what she looks like by imagining it? That figures, this is a place of daydreams that's kind of how they work. She knows exactly what to do with this, she's known since she was a kid what she's change if she could. She places the backs of her hands next to her ears and flicks up, sparkles spray up with the motion and her normal human ears, turn to wolf ears the fur the same chocolate brown as her hair. Her smirk blooms into a full blown smile, and she tilts her head to get a better look at them, watching them move as she tests them. It's like they're real! Next is the tail of course, it's mostly brown, with some silver down the top and a black tip. Then she looks down, and taps the toe of each of her shoes against the ground in turn, as she does they become the compressed paws of her own design.

"That's insane..." she laughs to herself. She's actually turning herself into something else, her own made up alien species. And she just can! With the big changes out of the way she works out the details; pupil shape, fang length, and straightens out a few asymmetries and insecurities she's always had about her body- after all why not? When she's done, she can't help admiring herself a little, turning this way and that in front of the mirror, her perfect image of herself. Well- almost perfect. She snaps her fingers and in the same dusting of glitter, her shirt changes. What was before a loose grey t-shirt with the word "nope" written across it in cursive, as been replaced by a cropped sweater, banded in 3 colors; white at the top, then light blue, then dark blue. She lifts it to look at the crop top under neither, it's just plain white. She decides she doesn't like it that way, so it changes to a cropped version of the t-shirt she'd had before. With that taken care of she lifts her arm so the over-sized sleeve falls down and she can see her forearm, which is covered by a light blue arm warmer with white lace around the edges. Perfect. At least for now. She can change later if she decides she doesn't like the arm warmers.

She giggles to herself, invigorated by the makeover and the sense of control she has now. She turns from the mirror and skips a few feet across the grass, the symbols she'd chosen follow her, floating loosely like beads suspended in gel. She laughs a little as she watches them, and idly reaches for her necklace again, but this time her hand just meets the soft knit of her sweater. She'd forgotten to add them into this new look, so she just wills them into place; three different necklaces of three different lengths. Her hand finds the middle length first, the pendant is designed to spin so she plays with it while her mind starts to wander. She starts thinking of plans for winning this game, what she might say to each other 'pawns' and who to use where and how, even letter her thoughts wonder about the new life she'll have. Cipher's hologram suggested she'll stay in Gravity Falls, which would be cool but what about-

The sound of screeching tires and twisting metal cuts her thoughts off clean and she whips around to find the source of the noise, but her fear turns to confusion when she sees...nothing. She stands stock still, her mind running over only vague impressions of thoughts relating to what she just heard, until another loud sound whips her back around. This time she actually sees something, like a huge firework in the pastel oil-slick sky, accompanied by Bill's obnoxious voice echoing through the space.

"Let the game begin!"

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Stone cold- B. Hargrove

Contemplating a pt.2. Let me know if y’all want a second one!! Hope you like it!

For the lovely @winter-captain-01!!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

Y/N was rough.

She was the type of girl to punch a guy in the face if he dared touch her ass without her permission.

She was the type of girl to give as good as she gets, against both men and women.

She was dangerous, she was intimidating, and she did it all with her staple black heels on her small feet.

Yet still, Billy couldn’t get enough of the girl who challenged him every step of the way.

Their first meeting sent his heart rate skyrocketing along with his anger levels.

She had parked her Canary Yellow ‘57 Chevy Bel Air a tad too close to his Camaro and without looking he flicked his half done cigarette right on to the hood of her car.

She saw red when she saw him do so.

Naturally, she picked the cigarette up, ensuring it was no longer burning before proceeding to crumble it into his perfectly combed mullet.

He felt the crumbles hit his scalp, still slightly warm from being lit and he turned to thump whoever had the audacity to try something smart with him. Until his eyes fell on the girl.

The first thing he noticed was the height difference. He concluded that the only reason she was able to stretch her arms high enough to reach above his head was on account of the high stilettos her feet were resting in.

“Who the fuck do you think you-“

“Listen here, asswipe,” she snarled at him, stepping a fraction of an inch closer to appear more threatening. Despite the further incline the action placed on her neck. “That ‘Bitch’ crown on your head isn’t too heavy for me to knock off, so flick a dart at my car again, and it’ll go flying.”

Billy smirked at her, rolling his tongue along his teeth in a way he knew captured many girls in the past.

Not this one.

Y/N turned on her heels, sauntering back to her car.

Billy shamelessly watched her behind and her legs as she walked, mind racing with all of the ways he was going to get her to fall to her knees for him.

She turned her head as she opened the door, noticing his gaze. She whistled loudly, snapping his attention from her ass to her face, where he was met with the sight of her middle finger.

Billy practically groaned at the sound of her Chevy starting up, and speeding out of the school parking lot.

What he didn’t notice was the same car stop at the middle school where his sister went to retrieve a certain curly haired boy.

And his friends.

She leaned her head out of the window, eyeing the group.

“Turd burgers!” They all peaked their head up at the sound of her voice, knowing it well. “Asses in seats, feet better be clean.”

She leaned inside, pulling a stick of gum from

The center console and popping it into her mouth as she watched the four boys wave goodbye to a girl.

They climbed in and she remained, skateboard in hand and a frustrated expression on her face.

“Whose that, Dust?”

“That’s our friend, Max,” he announced.

“She’s awesome! Total badass,” Mike continued, stating her name at the same time as his friend.

She looked at her little brother before turning back to the girl whose hair was as fiery as as a sunset.

Y/N eyed her with concern before whistling to her the same way she whistled at the asshole who threw the cancer stick on her car.

She gestured her head to walk closer and the girl obliged, a weary look plastered on her freckled face.

Y/N definitely didn’t miss the way her little brothers face brightened when Max walked near.

Nor did she miss the same expression on Lucas’ face.

“You alright, kiddo? You need a ride?” Max turned to see that most of the kids had piled into their own parents’ cars, or the bus.

The girl huffed, standing on her toes to peak over the car towards the high school.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. My asshole brother should be here soon. He’s meant to pick me up.”

Y/N fixed her with a look, frowning.

She was tough with people her own age and older, but she had a soft spot for kids.

“Okay, but if you need a ride home any day, let me know.” Max nodded softly, a small smile on her face. “Lord knows I need another female around with these dorks.”

She earned a smack to her shoulder from her little brother as payment, and a chorus of offended exclamations from the boys in the back.

“Catcha, kiddo,” Y/N winked at the girl, not leaving until she waved back and stepped away from the curb.

When she did, the Chevy was pulled away from the curb and sped away.

The next day she left the school with intentions of dropping her (basically adopted) kids at the arcade while she makes a beeline first the record shop.

Her and Dustin were in need of some new albums, and she wanted to find something for her mum.

What she didn’t expect was to run into a certain curly haired asshole in the rock section.

“Well,” she heard from behind her, far too close to her ear. “If I had have known you’d be here, I would have dressed nicer.” Y/N turned to meet Billy Hargrove, standing way too close to her with a smirk plastered on his face. “Or I would have dressed down. Whatever you please, princess.”

She rolled her eyes at the wink he sent her, turning around.

“Call me that again, Hargrove, and I’ll shove your mullet down your throat.”

“Then what should I call you? You haven’t told me your name,” his smirk was still in full force, as well as the pinch in his brow. He didn’t like when people were rude to him, but he felt the challenge in the girl, and it was drawing him in.

“Y/N.” She huffed, “I would love to stay and chat but, I actually wouldn’t.”

She want to walk away, only to be stopped by a hand on her wrist.

“Well, Y/N,” he loved the way her name sounded on his tongue. “How about you and I catch up soon? Spend a little time together?”

She scoffed, laughing obnoxiously and pulling her wrist from his grip. Thankfully, she had already paid for her vinyls and was free to leave.

“Call me when you get an attitude adjustment, asswipe.”

She quickly hustled back to the arcade, as fast as her heels would allow and found comfort with the fiery headed girl.

“They’re still trying to beat your high score, huh?” Y/N chirped, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Max made a sound of acknowledgement, watching them with tired eyes.

“Gets a bit boring when you’ve got the high score on the decent games,” her smirk was proud, and awfully familiar in manner to Y/N, but she chose to ignore it.

“Here,” Y/N nudged the shoulder of the girl, “come have a look at the records I bought.”

Max’ eyes lit up. She loved the arcade, but she simply wanted to be at home.

The desire in its own was unnatural to her, as she despised being around Neil, but she was worried about her mum. And her step-brother.

The night before was rough. Billy had gotten into it with Neil because their ‘father’ had put his hands on Max’ mum.

Billy didn’t like that one bit and stood up for the woman, only to earn a visit from Neil’s belt.

Y/N let the boys know they would be outside, before leading the girl to her car.

They sat for who knows how long talking, and Max quickly grew to admire the older girl.

Y/N was halfway through a story detailing the time her and Dustin had a three-hour-long marathon of some dancing arcade game she couldn’t remember the name of, when a blue Camaro pulled up.

Both girls ignored the sound of the engine, as Y/N continued her wholesome story.

By the end of it, she was so tired that her little brother (who was half the dancer she was) ended up whooping her ass.

The only thing that caught their attention was the sound of a husky voice that had Y/N groaning in frustration.

“Well, well, well,” Billy said. “If it isn’t the stone cold broad herself.”

“I feel like every time you open your mouth, something else boring comes out,” Y/N whispered, throwing her head back to the sky.

“Keep telling yourself that, honey.” Billy maneuvered around Y/N, heading to stand next to Max. “You ready, shithead? Neil gets home soon, so we need to be back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Max answered after a minute. Her eyes were downcast in fear, and Y/N found herself wondering if she was afraid of the man standing next to her.

The realization clicked in her head. “Oh! He’s your brother?” Her tone started off high, lowering as she got to the end of her sentence while her face shifted into a frown.

“Step-brother,” Max and Billy said at the same time.

Y/N nodded, looking up from her position seated on the hood of her car, as she saw the door to the arcade open.

She shouted loudly towards the opening, catching the attention of the four boys to signal their leave.

“Alright, Maxie, gotta give you something before you go,” Y/N stood before reaching into her car, bent over the window. She could feel the way Billy gazed at her backside. She handed the girl a piece of paper with a number scribbled on the side. “That’s my number. You need anything, or a lift to school just give me a ring.”

Max fixed her with a small smile. A grateful one that shone through her eyes.

“Where’s my number?” Billy winked at her.

“Stare at my ass again and you won’t have fingers left to dial anybody,” Y/N halted her words to look the man up and down. She couldn’t deny that she liked what she saw, but she refused to allow her mind to wander. “Or to flog your log, asswipe.”

“Ooh, feisty. You get more attractive as the days pass,” Billy winked, turning around and nudging his sister again. “In the car, shithead.”

The boys piled into her car, and she sped off as soon as they were all clear of the road.

She was flustered from Billy’s words, and annoyed at the mullet headed man.

Days passed, random calls from Max, and requests for a lift to school when Billy was unavailable.

Y/N didn’t know what was meant by the term, but whenever he was unavailable, he was also absent from school.

She hated herself for caring what happened to the boy, but she found herself developing an attraction to him.

According to Max, her obnoxious step-brother had developed quite the infatuation with the older Henderson.

Despite this, Y/N was still shocked to great extents when her home phone blared to life at 3AM one Saturday morning, and Y/N answered in a bleary state to her soft sobbing on the other end.

“Y/N?” She heard a masculine voice that she instantly recognized to be Billy. Her heart race picked up. “You busy?”

[signed-yours-truly-the-whale]

Babes in Chuckletown

OHO BOY, am I angry.

I was in the middle of a very long chapter in my fanfic when my computer randomly decided to restart, costing me NOT ONLY a very long chapter, but the ENTIRE THIRTEEN-CHAPTER DOCUMENT. I thank god that I uploaded it all to AO3 up until the thirteenth chapter (which is going to be a pain the ass to rewrite), but now I have to go in and copy-paste, re-bold and re-italicize everything.

So that’s how my Halloween is going. Excuse me while I cry.

Anyway. Please enjoy this one-shot I’m making up on the fly about Arthur having no choice but bringing his small child to Ha-Ha’s because he has nobody to watch her. Me being in an angry mood helps me to channel Hoyt’s ... Hoytish-ness. Hoyt was definitely an asshole in the movie, but I feel like the lines “I like you, Arthur” and “I’m trying to help you” flew under the radar in light of his dickishness.

I’ve been wanting to write this for a while, I just have no conceivable idea where this would logically fit into my fanfiction, so I gift it here. I’ll let this be a birthday present for the incredible @funsizedshrimp, since they seem to love my Carrie Fleck as much as I do and I absolutely should return the favor for all the lovely art they gift to me. I love you lots, you wonderful person you.

__________________                ______________               __________________

“Hey Peanut, can you do me a favor?”

Arthur’s voice was soft, nearly indecipherable. The pudgy hand that had been grasping at his shirt collar suddenly pushed against him, exerting the energy to be able to lift her head up.

One bleary eye opened to look at him. Her cheek was rosy from her uneasy resting spot on his collarbone. Neither the time nor the place allowed for such coddling, but he continued to rock her on his hip uneasily.

“Mm?” she questioned.

“Can you put a hand over your ear?” he asked, softer still. “Daddy has to talk to someone and it might be a little loud. Not suitable for a baby’s ears.”

Although Carrie grumbled something that only he could decipher as “Not a baby,” she conceded. The sharp bone in her ear pressing against his collarbone hurt, but in the magical age where she began repeating every colorful phrase she heard from the television, he couldn’t risk anything.

Taking in a wavering breath, clutching the bag in his hand tighter, Arthur opened his boss’ door.

“Oh, how fucking nice of you to ... what the fuck is this?”

Hoyt looked up from his stack of documents -- chiefly the words complaint, absence, and Carnival bore into his head from a yellow slip on his desk -- to see Ha Ha’s resident hooky flinch in protest. What he first thought was an overgrown ragdoll, he realized with some incredulity was a toddler, pressing its head into Arthur’s neck.

“You brought a fucking kid into my shop?” he asked, voice rising.

“Hoyt ... please --”

“Please what? This should be good.”

It gave him no pleasure to watch Arthur be so hopelessly awkward, dropping the paper bag in a vain attempt to hike the kid further up on his person. He knew the guy was going through a rough patch with the wife. That it happened on Hoyt’s dime, though, made him hard to sympathize with.

Fumbling for something to do besides stand uncomfortably and rock his daughter into a sleep that she couldn’t attain, Arthur sat in the green chair across from Hoyt’s desk. He positioned Carrie to be able to rest easier in his lap. At a groggy whimper, his hand instinctively pressed against her arm, hoping it would keep her semi-warm. He didn’t know why Hoyt kept the AC on at all hours of the day.

“Well aren’t you a real mother hen,” Hoyt observed, devoid of anything Arthur could recognize as a positive emotion. “What’s it doing here?”

“I ... I had no other options,” he blurted out. “I can’t afford another day off work, but I have nobody to watch her.”

“Do I look like I’m runnin’ a charity ward, Arthur?” Upon further thought, “You didn’t bring her through the locker room, did you?”

“Nobody else is here,” he said quickly, realizing how bad that might’ve sounded once it reached his own ears. “And I made her close her eyes.”

Two scraggly grey eyebrows rose in vague surprise.

“Your mistake, not mine.”

Arthur felt the tips of his ears burn, unsure if he guessed correctly what Hoyt was referring to. Carrie may have been a surprise, but she was no mistake.

“How are you supposed to keep track of the kid on assignment?” Hoyt questioned, flitting through the ever-expanding pile of papers on his desk. “You’re booked for Amusement Mile today. That’s fuckin’ dangerous.”

Awkwardly, Arthur cleared his throat, feeling unable to meet Hoyt’s disbelieving eyes. His fingers rubbed Carrie’s arm up and down. She burrowed further into the crook of his neck, keeping her hand dutifully over her ear as promised. Her face was hidden from view by a crop of blonde hair -- the little veil he had left that kept work and home as two separate realities.

“I - I, um ...” A giggle got caught in his throat, as thick as a billiard ball. He forced it down. “I was wondering if I could keep her here. Just ... just for --”

“What?”

“Just for today, a -- and tomorrow, I’ll be sure --”

“Are you stupid?” Hoyt cuts in, and Arthur’s hand moves from his daughter’s arm to the small hand over her ear like a reflex. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“W -- well, Randall brought in his kid a few w -- weeks ago ... I thought maybe ...”

“Randall’s kid is twelve already, not three.” Hoyt heard a soft mutter of “she’ll be five soon,” as if it would sway the argument in Arthur’s court at all. “What the hell are you thinking in that fucked-up head? No relatives, no friends?”

“Nobody,” he said, and it surprised Hoyt that he hadn’t seen Arthur ... quite so sad before. He’d been sad, sure, but not pitiful. He couldn’t be more pitiful if he was dressed as Carnival doing this begging. “My -- my wife just left, I don’t know where she is. My in-laws are on vacation in Burbank and my mom is in the hospital. The neighbors won’t take her and -- and the preschool is closed ‘cause of a rat infestation. Hoyt, I’m ... I’m begging you.”

Something about the sight was so pitiful, so unfunny in his desperation, that Hoyt narrowly refrained from cutting back with My mistake for thinking you’d have friends.

“Mmf, Daddy,” the source of the frustration croaked. “My arm hurts. Can I put it down?”

“Yeah, Peanut,” he said quietly. The hand slid out from underneath his warm palm and found its way around his neck once again. A thumb brushed away a few strands of hair from her face, unveiling a curtain for her to view this strange new room.

Hoyt almost let slip a surprised “holy shit” as the kid’s head rose to look around the office, wide-eyed in her wonderment, but he thought better of it. But holy shit, did she look like Arthur, in eyes and face shape at least. Slap on a greasy brown wig and she could’ve been a pint-sized clone.

“A jack in the box,” she said quietly, pointing at the dumb clown statue out of his sight in front of his desk. “Daddy, jack in the box.”

“Yeah, Carrie, I see.”

Hoyt bit his lip, at a loss. It was always harder to turn a kid away when he had a name and a face to set to them. Until then the kid could’ve been a delusion for all he knew, the way Arthur talked about her like there was no god damn tomorrow. Who on this green earth would ever think to --?

Ugh. Fuck.

“You owe me, Arthur. Big time.”

____________________

Nine in the morning rolled around to a relative calm. The kid was, to his relief, quiet and weedy for the most part, like her quiet, weedy father. A long stretch of silence ensued -- half-hour? Two hours? He didn’t fucking know -- where the rhythmic punching of the time cards from the locker room and pen (or crayon) on paper substituted for awkward and mindless conversation he didn’t want to indulge in.

His only indication that she was there at all was the knowledge that his door hadn’t opened since Arthur hurried out to get ready and dropped her in Hoyt’s proverbial lap (had it been a literal instance, he might’ve tossed the kid through the window on reflex), and the occasional kicking of leather sandals and bell bottom pant legs barely visible from his vantage point.

“Hey, don’t get any crayon on my floor,” he warned, wondering internally if she made up for in mischief what she lacked in outward annoyance.

“I won’t,” she replied, too high and cheery for nine in the morning. “I draw pictures to stop Daddy being sad.”

Well isn’t that just fucking lovely. But he had a schedule to amend.

He could send Arthur to the kids’ hospital in Randall’s place -- the kids seemed to really respond to Arthur better ... god, why did Randall have to be such an obnoxious prick of a clown with the kids? It was getting harder and harder to place him--

The rustling of paper and a soft grunt made him look up. Hiding her face from his view, the kid was holding up a drawing of ... colored dots? Big whoop.

She pointed to a bright green one, taking up the center of the page.

“That’s -- that’s my daddy at work,” she explained. He raised a brow. Quite a likeness. “And that’s me, with an ice cream.”

Her little pointer finger trailed to the scribble next to the green -- a flurry of yellow and brown and pink. Was that what she’d spent the last hour on?

“What’s that then?” he asked before he could stop himself, not realizing any words had left his mouth at all until the cap of a chewed blue Bic pen tapped against a blue scribble, neatly tucked away in a folded corner.

“That’s my mommy,” she explained, as casual as though he’d asked for the time. Oh. “She’s taking a break.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to say something he might regret in the hours to come. Before coming to the realization that it was not his business nor his time to care, a question flitted through his mind if Arthur had told the kid about her mom at all.

“I got work to do,” he settled. “Read a book or something.”

____________________

Hoyt never thought he’d ever be disappointed to have a knock on the door that wasn’t Arthur.

“C’min,” he said distractedly.

“Hoyt,” Gary said. “Barney needs the key to the storage closet. Forgot his shoes at home.”

“Second time this week,” Hoyt tutted. Standing up, he allowed himself a stretch that popped his back in several satisfying places, and reached for the key under the strip of tape marked STORAGE. “Tell him this had better be the last damn time.”

“I’ll try.”

Their eyes, as though having just materialized in the room, landed on the girl, still lying on the floor but looking up at Gary, saying nothing. Gary’s face softened.

“Oh, hello,” he said amiably. “Is this your daughter, Hoyt?”

Don’t ever say something like that again --

“Nah.” He shook his head and sat back down. “Arthur’s kid.”

A moment of recognition passed where Gary’s eyes lit up like a damn Christmas tree. His smile grew wider.

“So this is the Carrie we’ve heard all about,” he exclaimed, sticking his hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Fleck.”

At the lack of response, Hoyt looked over the desk. A blonde crop of hair was unmoved, and even quieter than she’d been before.

“Didn’t your daddy teach you not to stare?” Hoyt probed.

“She’s alright, Hoyt,” Gary countered, keeping his eyes on the girl. “She’s still very young.”

No time like now to teach ‘em not to stare

“Thanks, Hoyt,” Gary continued. At the door frame again, he smiled once more at the kid. “It was very nice to meet you, Carrie.”

The door closed. As if cued by the click of the lock, she turned quickly to Hoyt.

“He was small!” she whispered.

“Yeah, and you’re rude.”

“How rude?”

“It’s fuckin’ rude to stare at him ‘cause he’s short,” Hoyt snapped, pulling yet another litany of papers in a barely-together manila folder from an overstuffed desk drawer. “He doesn’t stare at you ‘cause you’re a girl.”

“But that was scary.”

“There’s a lot scarier guys to be on the lookout for, kid.”

“Who?”

Your daddy, for one.

“I don’t wanna be rude,” she said quietly, beginning to stand. She swiped a bit of dust from the knee of her bell bottoms, putting a nagging word in the back of his mind to sweep the office soon. “I wanna be like my daddy. He’s nice.”

He looked at her briefly before returning to his papers again. Crudely and off-tune, he made out that she was attempting to whistle the Andy Griffith theme.

Andy Griffith. Sheriff Barney Fife. God damn you, Gary.

The back of a blonde head was cast in varying shades as she stood in front of the window slats, drawing a little pointer finger over the sharpie-marked letters. MIME. WHITE FACE PAINT

I have no doubt you’ll be exactly like your daddy. Good luck with that.

____________________

Two o’clock gave Hoyt his first opportunity to get a real look at the Fleck girl. That still felt weird to say.

“Here,” he said stiffly, digging into his back pocket to produce two dimes. “Go down the hall ‘til you reach the Pepsi machine and get us two sodas. It’s lunch time.”

She swiped the dimes from his hand. The contact of nails against his palm made him shiver more than he expected. She felt startlingly real.

A few hesitant steps later -- and he really had to question how poor Arthur was that she looked at the dimes like she’d never seen them before -- she turned to look at him. The pink clip holding her bangs back suddenly bobbed on her head.

“Daddy not let me have soda,” she said.

“Your daddy’s out working. Skedaddle.”

“But what if he come and sees?”

She was lucky her little girl charm made up for the annoying inconsistency of her grammar. If there was one thing Hoyt hated, it was inconsistency.

“We got two hours ‘til you gotta worry about that.”

He looked down again, swiping a red mark through Randall’s name. Another complaint from a kid’s parent from the latest birthday party. God damn --

A clanking made him look up, and sigh. She couldn’t reach the door handle.

“Every paper I can’t sign ‘cause of lookin’ after you is coming out of your daddy’s paycheck,” he threatened, standing to open the door.

The kid was made all the more startlingly real, assaulting his senses as he had to grab her arms and push her forward to get her to stop gawking at the animal statues and props in the storage closet that swallowed the hallway. At least the locker room was empty.

What the fuck are you thinking bringing her here, Fleck?

Leaning against the opposite wall, he watched with waning curiosity as she rushed over to the machine, concluded she was too short to reach the buttons, and pulled over a yellow chair (the uneven wobbly one that grated on his nerves to hear scraping against the ground in uneven increments) to stand on. Licks of curls rested on her shoulders, reminding Hoyt of her mop-headed father.

Rushing back to him, she triumphantly handed him a blue Pepsi can, keeping the Mountain Dew for herself. Eh, he’s had worse.

“Stay,” he said gruffly, unsure of what else to say. He was more accustomed to dogs than kids, but felt satisfied by her listening skills when she climbed into the yellow chair next to the black trunk-table.

Two minutes later and he found himself in the impossibly weird scenario of not only having lunch outside of the comfort of his office, but tossing a banana to a kid who, by all the laws of nature, should not really be allowed to exist. Cute as she may be, to see physical proof of Arthur Fleck’s sex life made it hard to look at her for more than a few seconds.

Hoyt looked anyway, a little annoyed at her inability to open the soda can with her frail little finger. Weak like her damn dad. He swiped it, opened it with a secretly satisfying hiss, and watched her take a great sip. Scrunching her nose -- thank god for her, it wasn’t like Arthur’s -- she stuck her tongue out in derision before reaching over to set it on the table.

Hoyt switched the cans. He hated Pepsi anyway.

He also hated bananas, and the leftover couscous his wife made the previous evening. Mentally he made a note to pack his own damn lunches from then on.

So the banana went to the kid, less out of concern for her eating and more as a means to stop any bellyaching from either her or his wife later.

“So your dad doesn’t let you have soda,” he found himself asking. Why his brain was unable to catch up with his mouth, he wasn’t really sure.

Through a mouthful, she shook her head at him. Swallowing down a sizeable bite, she said, “The sugar bad for my heart.”

“Hmm.”

“My mommy let me have soda, though,” she said, perkier now in a way that made him feel a little rigid. “She likes Coke.”

Hoyt held back a snort of derision and surprise. There were funnier things to mock Arthur about than his wife hitting it big and leaving. Coke was for the rich, he knew. Poor people ... drank Pepsi, he supposed, looking at the kid and the soda can again.

She seemed much more content with the Pepsi can. Metaphorical? Maybe. He was never one to think of analogies -- nor did he really care.

At the sound of the entrance banging open, her eyes widened and she went red. Her hands stayed firmly around the soda can as her proverbial cookie jar.

Whatever jaunty tune Randall was whistling as though he wasn’t twenty minutes late was cut short upon making eye contact with the kid. Hoyt saw something that looked friendly, but not in the same fashion that maybe Gary had in mind.

“Didn’t realize you paid for ‘em so young, Hoyt.”

An inexplicable burning sensation flared in the tips of Hoyt’s ears.

“It’s Arthur’s kid, now fuck off,” he said quickly. “And you’re late.”

“Car broke down again.”

“Well get it fixed, or don’t let it break down on my time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Randall sighed, breezing past them with his nicotine-smelling clown suit in hand, chief of the parents’ complaints.

The girl’s eyes trailed after the huge man, staying on the hallway long after he’d left. She leaned in just after he took in a mouthful of cold, crunchy couscous.

“What did he mean?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t ask questions.”

____________________

Hoyt’s leg bounced, eyeing the clock out of his peripheral. If Arthur believed Hoyt was letting himself be saddled with the kid for one minute past four o’clock, he was really out of it.

The kid was getting restless, and relentlessly annoying. She surprised him with her expert knowledge on blowing up and tying balloons -- of course Arthur would teach her that, what a valuable life skill -- but the inefficient scraping of two ends of a tightly-woven balloon into a barely-decipherable balloon animal made him wanna pop the thing right in her face. God damn, why did he keep a pile of them within her reach?

She made a snake, she declared. Or a worm.

Upon reaching for another one, it came with an unnecessary avalanche of wormy friends as the corner of a plastic bag scattered a cluster of colored balloons on the carpeted floor.

“Shit,” he grumbled, rounding the desk to collect them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her put back the one she’d originally grabbed. “You’d better hope your dad has money to pay for new balloons, kid.”

“Shhh ...” His eyes narrowed at her, watching her lean down with him to collect handfuls -- albeit smaller handfuls -- of long balloons. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

____________________

Two minutes to four, Arthur came into the office, looking like a man on a mission. It was to his visible relief, Hoyt noticed, that the kid was happy and very much alive.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, hopping from the chair to take aim around his pant leg, leaving her picture book on the ground. A hand stroked some hair behind her ear and she smiled sappily up at him. “I drew you pictures and -- and I made you a balloon snake, but it popped.”

Groaning, he pried her arms away and bent down to her level.

“Were you good for Hoyt?” he asked, the faintest smile threatening to split on his face. Eight hours of work would not stop him from enjoying how soft her hair was, or how she smelled like cherries when she hugged his hulking, sweaty form.

“Just aces,” Hoyt smiled cloyingly, twisting a pen cap between his fingers. “Get a sitter for her tomorrow or don’t bother coming in.”

“That good, huh?” Arthur questioned, groaning again in achy protest as he stood up. “I’ll find a sitter for her, I promise.”

____________________

Three hours and two much-needed baths later, Arthur was finding a familiar rhythm in twirling his best girl around their little living room, not minding that he got lost in the mask he wore in front of her. Their old turntable warbled and scratched, but he scarcely noticed.

Carrie didn’t smile at anybody the way she smiled at him. He hoped she knew the flip side to that was true as well.

Que sera sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future’s not ours to see

Que sera sera

“I talked with Mom on the phone today,” he mentioned, watching her face brighten into a widening grin. “She said she wants to meet up with us to take you to lunch on Saturday.”

“Is she come back?” she asked. With her left hand enveloped in her father’s, she shifted her right arm so it rested against his chest and she could lean back to look at him. His face fell slightly.

“No, Peanut, I don’t think so. But you’ve been doing so well with school ‘til it closed, I thought you could tell her all the new rhyming words you learned. You learned what rhymes with bit, didn’t you?”

Her eyes traveled up to the ceiling, scrunching her nose to remember.

“Split,” she concluded, aglow in his proud smile. “Now you.”

“Befit. You?”

“Uh ... grit.”

At a very inelegant dip, which sent her into shrieking giggles as she felt her ponytail brush the floor, he said, “Banana split.”

“That doesn’t count!” she laughed.

“Oh, really? How does it not count?” he humored.

“Cause I said split! No cheating!”

“Then tool kit,” he smiled. “But now you have to think of two words.”

“Quit, and ...” She stopped to consider. “Oh, I learned one today! Shit.”

____________________

“Hoyt?”

“What do you want?”

Arthur looked from the paper in his hands, to the area of space between his person and the paper, filled in by the sight of his feet doing an awkward little soft shoe. Should he even question Hoyt about this? He was as honest as he could be, but something about this didn’t seem to add up.

“It’s just, uh ... my paycheck seems higher than it should be?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, no, but --”

“Then what is it?”

A nervous sweat started to form at Arthur’s hairline.

“It’s just that ... I did the math, and -- and it looks like you paid me for one of the days I didn’t work.”

“Are you tellin’ me you don’t think I did my math right? Go get a fuckin’ bank job if you think you know better.”

“So ... I’m -- I’m fine if I deposit the two hundred from the check?”

“Your money,” Hoyt grumbled, signing away another mindless paper. For being a clown business, he sure did have a shitload of paperwork. “Pay your rent, buy a hooker, some booze ... a snazzy divorce lawyer.”

Turning, Arthur felt something air-light in his chest, still disbelieving of the good fortune.

I can pay the rent, he registered. I can pay the rent and I can buy Carrie some new toys.

“Hey, how’s the little ankle-biter, by the way?”

He turned again, slower.

“What?”

“Kelly, the -- the kid you brought in on Monday. Raised hell in my office.”

“Oh ... Carrie?”

Arthur looked down at his shoes again, smiling. Staying with his mom and her newly-broken arm, bellyaching about wanting Hoyt at her babysitter again because “Nana can only make TV dinners.”

“She’s just aces.”

[john-wickening]

A Treat

AN: So this little ditty is based off my head canon post. It’s more sappy stuff whoops. One day, I’ll write something that isn’t tooth rotting fluff lol. Hope y’all enjoy ^_^. 

You get busy at work, which prevents you from celebrating Halloween like you’d want to. John has a trick up his sleeve.

TW: mention of someone committing sexual assault (not shown, just mentioned) Some mild swearing

Word count: 1842

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When the phone rang and the obnoxiously bubbly ringtone filled the room, you couldn’t help but groan.

It was your boss calling.

John looked up from the book he was working on and you stuck your lower lip out in a pout. The corner of his mouth twitched in response.

Work had been an absolute nightmare lately and you knew deep down in your gut that this wasn’t going to be a great phone call.

“Hey Rob,” you huffed as you picked up the phone. You couldn’t conceal the disappointment leaking into your voice.

Rob was a gruff man. He cut right to the chase.

“I have another assignment for you.” You heaved a sigh and bit your lip. Of course he did. You stood up and crossed the room to your desk. Your laptop whirred to life when you opened the lid.

“Sure Rob. Hit me with it,” your laptop was moving glacially slow, but eventually it booted up.

“I’ve emailed you the details. Your deadline is the 31st,” he stated and you felt a pang of annoyance shoot through you.

“Halloween, Rob? Really?” you groaned “You know that’s my favorite holiday,”

“You agreed to this, chickadee,” he bit out gruffly and you had to grit your teeth together to keep from snapping at him for the asinine pet name. “You’re freelance for a reason.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” you grumbled in reply. You could hear the click of the receiver as he hung up. You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone down onto the table.

Asshole.

You pulled up your email and logged in. His lengthy message was in the top of your inbox. You chewed the corner of your thumbnail as you scanned over the details of the case.

“What’s he got you doing this time?” You were engrossed so deeply and John’s voice was so sudden in the silent room that you actually jumped a little. When you looked up at him, you could see amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Investment banker,” You replied. “He’s got me checking up on this guy, making sure his personal life is tip top.” You kept it intentionally vague. John could be a little… overprotective when he knew all the details. Knowing that this guy was a convicted rapist and had served time for beating his child would definitely not fly so well with John. He’d insist on coming with you and that made everything ten times more complicated.

John nodded and turned back to his book.

You watched him for a moment, admiring the way his thick, scarred fingers worked at the binding. You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest watching your fiancée skillfully thread the pages.

You turned back to your work with a smile on your face, which unfortunately faded fast.

The details on this man were troubling to say the least. Three convictions for sexual assault, 2 years in East Jersey State. His money bought him a slap on the wrist, basically. You frowned and shook your head in disgust. The justice system was a farce. You found yourself falling down the rabbit hole looking into this dickhead. You were so enthralled with the information that John yet again managed to scare you.

“Guess that means you finally have to leave the dog alone,” he muttered after a few minutes. You brought a hand to your chest to try to slow down your heart and shot him a glare.

“Meatball likes it,” you retorted indignantly. John snorted

“No he doesn’t,” he replied without looking up from his work. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Yes he does,” You replied. “He was dashing in his devil costume last year, thank you very much,” John chuckled quietly and you found yourself smiling.

“You’re obsessed,” he stated flatly and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You love it,” you teased and he smirked but didn’t reply. A comfortable silence passed between you.

“I’ll find the time to dress Meatball up, don’t you worry” you said after a minute though your heart wasn’t in it. The case Rob had thrown at you was very involved. Halloween was in two weeks and this was a job that would normally take three weeks or more. You looked over at the spiderwebs wrapped up the banister and sighed. You were glad that you had at least been proactive on decorating the house.

It’s September 21st, why are you decorating already? This is earlier than last year, John grumbled as he watched you flit about the house. It already looked like the Halloween store had exploded in here.

Have you met me, John? You teased as you clipped a small plastic skeleton to the ceiling fan.

He just rolled his eyes but you didn’t miss the smirk creeping across his face as he turned away. He had always expressed his indifference for the holiday and frankly, he often teased you lightly for your minor obsession. But he never stopped you or outright discouraged your enthusiasm, and for that you were thankful

You just hoped you’d be able to get enough done on the case to at least have your annual movie night

 *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two weeks later, you slapped the file down on Rob’s desk with a triumphant smirk

“I really think you were trying to test me on this one, Rob,” you said cockily. “Here’s everything you need to know about the bastard,”

The older man flipped through the file with piercing eyes. After a moment, he set it down and grinned.

“Good work, kid.” You bit the inside of your cheek. You hated being called kid. To be honest, you hated every stupid pet name the man called you, but this job paid well so you held your tongue.

The man looked up at you and scratched his wiry gray beard in thought.

“To be honest, I didn’t think you were going to be able to do it in time,” he said and you felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Well then, you underestimated me,” the words leaked out before you could stop them.

The man let out a bark of laughter and you felt your stomach clench uneasily.

“I suppose I did,” he admitted amicably and the knot in your stomach uncoiled. From the drawer of his desk, he produced a thick envelope.

There it was.

“Here’s your pay, plus a little bonus for putting in the hard work at such a busy time,” he replied and passed the envelope to you. You took it but didn’t check the contents. The man had a peculiar affect and checking the amount would most likely upset him.

“Thank you, sir,” He nodded and turned his back on you, indicating that the conversation was over.

Not the most socially graceful dude, thought dryly to yourself as you stuffed the envelope into your bag.  Didn’t matter, though. Money was money. You left his office in a hurry.

By the time you got home to John, it was around 7 pm and it was just getting dark. You grinned when you noticed he had remembered to turn on the decorations on the lawn.

“John? I’m home,” you called as you walked through the front door. The house smelled strongly of pumpkin spice and you found yourself grinning.

From the other room came the skittering of paws on the floor and Meatball’s deep throaty bark of excitement. The noise almost entirely drowned out John’s response.

The skittering got closer and when Meatball eventually rounded the corner, you gasped.

“John you did not!” you cried out giddily as you laid eyes on the dog.

You don’t know what you loved more—the yellow and black jumper complete with a ‘stinger’ covering the dog’s tail, or the headband that wiggled wildly with every movement.

John had dressed Meatball up as a bee for Halloween and it was the cutest costume you’d ever seen in your entire life.

“Oh Meatball you look so good!” you cooed happily as you dropped to the floor to greet the dog. His little face lit up at your voice and the tail wag became a body wag. The puppy kisses were plentiful.

When John finally rounded the corner, you couldn’t help but grin up at him.

“Meatball hates it, huh?” you replied smugly from your spot on the floor. Meatball had crawled fully into your lap and was lapping at your chin.

John shot you a glare but his heart wasn’t in it. It was then that you noticed there was a white feather tangled in his hair.

“John… what’s in your hair?” you giggled. He stared blankly at you. You stood, crossed the room, and plucked it out and showed it to him.

He looked slightly sheepish.

“Ah… you’ll see,” he said. You grinned up at him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Thanks for dressing Meatball up,” you mumbled as you broke away. His smile was soft. He pressed another kiss to your lips.

“Follow me,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you into your living room. When you saw what was waiting for you, you almost shrieked in delight.

It was absolutely perfect. He had set out your regular Halloween spread, complete with your favorite bottle of red wine and rice crispy treats shaped like pumpkins. The television was cued up for a movie marathon. After a second you noticed that resting on the couch was a small set of bird’s wings and a headband of feathers, both clearly homemade.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“The birds and the bees, John?” the corner of his lips quirked up and he snaked a hand around your waist.

“I figured you’d appreciate it,” he replied simply and placed a kiss on your cheek.

For a second, you had to blink hard and steel yourself to keep your watery eyes from running over. He had clearly put a lot of effort into this despite his indifference about the holiday. The emotion that hit you was almost overwhelming.

“Thank you, John,” you breathed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into him. His eyes were soft as he looked down on you.

“You’re welcome, love,” he replied.

The kiss he gave you was slow, passionate, and absolutely toe curling. It took your breath away. His stubbly beard scraped against your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You gripped his shoulders harder to keep your knees from giving out. Kissing him was like visiting the gates of heaven. You could have gotten lost in that kiss forever.

Eventually, he broke it. You sighed breathlessly and pressed your forehead to his.

“Which movie?” he asked quietly, his voice a little strained. You smiled, knowing it was a pointless question.

“Hocus Pocus, of course,” you replied, intertwining your fingers with his. “But first…”

You tugged at his hand and he started to follow you.

“There’s something we should take care of before the trick-or-treaters show up...” you cooed demurely as you pulled him past the couch and towards your shared room.

The smile on John’s face was intoxicating.

It was truly going to be a perfect night.

[queensdivas]

A Damned Soul Chapter 4 (A Vamp Gwil Fic)

I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHES! Yes I have a concussion but I gotta power through it because I love writing and missed writing this book. Also! 39 isn’t dead! I’m bringing it back bitches because I’ve missed writing Pat Murray so badly! 

Here ya go ladies and gentlemen! If you’d like to request a certain bohrap or Queen dad let me know. If you would like to be tagged also let me know! Please enjoy because I’m back and more head issues than ever! WHOOP WHOOP! 

Previous Chapter

Taglist: 

@mexifangorl @i-live-for-queen @leah-halliwell92 @its-funny-til-its-not@bonafiderocketqueen @b-i-g-i-r-l-b-i @teathymewithben @mayofbrian@brianmydear @sprite-jh

The top was down as the warm summer night of warm July was wrapping itself around the car. It felt nice..and it being a very long time since I found myself in America. Not that I don’t mind the states at all, just enjoy a quick visit every once in a while for the kicks of it. Never imagined she would drag me over here..but somehow she managed to wound up over here. 

Stopping at the red light as she began fumbling through the radio station till a familiar guitar riff was beginning to play. John Denver has swept the nation with his new song Country Roads, but Annie's song really hit it home for her that summer to turn out being the song that would play nonstop in the car. 

A very loud Volkswagen van pulled up next to us, rolling down the window as all the smoke from the van came out. I’ve never been high in my life, but the amount of smoke that came from that van would’ve made anyone high. It was so damn strong that I think we got a context high from it. 

“Hey brother. Do you know how to get to Shark Island? We heard that there’s some voodoo lady who can hit us up with more weed!” So how does Voodoo and weed connect? Now I’m curious on where to even find this voodoo. My entire life I’ve been dealing with witchcraft..but voodoo has been something interesting since it’s even older than most witchcraft. 

“Yeah. Actually we’re on our way there to find her ourselves.” Robin told them as they nodded. 

“Alright! Road trip!” They yelled as the light turned green for the van to start driving hard down the road. 

“C’mon. I’m a witch and would enjoy learning about voodoo. If you don’t wanna go we don’t have to.” Shifting into the next gear then flooring the gas pedal. We caught up with the Volkswagen to keep up the same speed, the hippies were screaming at us through the window as Rolling Stones was blasting through their van. 

“Let’s get there before the pot heads.” She encouraged as I let off the accelerator to change into the next gear. Pushing my foot all the way down on the peddle to zoom past the van. Robin cheered as she also turn up the radio. 

“COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER YOU'RE MY KIND OF MAN! SO BIG AND SO STRONG! COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER! I’M ALL ALONE AND THE NIGHT IS SO LONG!” She sat up in the car to allow the wind to blow her hair all over the place and her body to be enticed by the music and wind. 

Stopping the car on the roadway that was lit only by a long line of torches down to the large mansion. In the middle of swap island? Why exactly do I get myself thrown in these situations where we end up in the middle of somewhere like back in Transylvania. 

“What do you think? Super spooky?” She giggled as we began going down the driveway slowly. Owls and cicadas were roaring all over the woods as we eventually stopped at the house. The large red doors opened as a very old women dressed in all blue came out of the doorway. She carried a gold cane that smacked onto the ground for the torches around us to become brighter. 

“I presume you’re here for my services?” Her voice carried through the entire property as we climbed out of the car. 

“You may come inside. Shoes off at the door.” It was like watching a ghost floating away, leaving a trail behind her. She grabbed my arm to guide me up the stairs as the humidity of the swamps fell on top of us like a wool blanket. 

Before she started up the stairs to the house to wrap her arms around my neck as I put my hands on her waist. Placing those beautiful lips against mine as my hands gave her waist a little squeeze. Her beautiful brown skin was glowing by the vast amount of fire around us.

“Careful..or the voodoo that we do will tear our souls.” She giggled as she ran up the stairs to start taking off her sandals. Taking off my tennis shoes to see her already walking through the mansion, her fingers grazing over everything in the hallway. Her dark yellow skirt was flowing as we walked to the sitting room to which I was so damn enticed that I forgot to notice she stopped walking. 

“My name is Wislande Janvier. You come seeking answers over a little situation you two are constantly in.” Pouring black pebbles into a tiny circle then a cluster of white feathers in the middle. 

“Situation? What do you mean a situation?” Robin chuckled as the snap of her fingers the white feathers burned into a white smoke. 

“She doesn’t know? Your story is as old as they come, though is slowly disappearing from the world.” Wislande began making the smoke dance in front of her as it danced its way over to Robin. 

“Open your eyes.”

“How come you never changed her?” Hyacinth broke my train of thought from the living room. Fixing my jacket in the mirror as I took one last glance to make sure I looked somewhat decent. Each time I always try to look somewhat presentable even though over the years it's gone from tights...to suits..to now jeans. I very much prefer jeans instead of tights. 

“Don’t think I haven’t tried in the beginning. Each time I even attempt to change her it would end up cause her body to immediately shut down. Like her body just flicks off whenever it hits her vessels. Tried it for the first few times, but it was just so much more painful.” Walking out into the living room to see Hyacinth was sitting on top of the couch licking himself. Oh god stop stop stop! He must’ve known what I was thinking because he looked up..smirked and continued to give himself a bath on my couch. 

“Hyacinth. If you’re going to live in my home then..then we gotta lay some sort of guidelines.” Sighing as I stood above him. God just realizing how big he is sitting on the couch. Think they call him mainecoons or something but regardless of what cat he is! No bathing on my couch!

“But what about the rest of your homes? Because if I could have the house in Montreal or even the one in Aswan that would be quite exquisite. Wait how many places do you have now by this point? Eleven? Twelve? You wouldn’t happen to have one in Alaska or very far north Canada? Do tell so when we fix this sticky situation I can have a nice place to return.” Glad to know that my vast amount of properties across the world is more important than him showing some sort of house manners. Scoffing as I noticed an empty moving box was sitting right next to the table with the tape right on top of the table. Let me try this one more time before I pack his furry arse up. 

“Just..no cleaning yourself up on my furniture..I have a bathroom and you’ve been around long enough to know that it's just weird to do that right in front of me or everyone in general. I imagine in your lifetime you’ve had a vast amount of owners who would let you do whatever you want in their house. But I’m different as you can see. Just no more bathing yourself on my furniture please.” His head came back up to stare directly at me. Raising his paw up to his mouth gradually with those eyes squinting at me. Oh I wish he would! OH I HOPE HE DOES! His tongue sliding against his fur as I nodded, getting up from the ground to nod at his actions. 

“Fine. I’ll give you one of my places! Now..how would you like to be sent there?” Snatching him up by his stomach to keep a tight grip around him so he wouldn’t budge. 

“Hey hey! Let me go you bloodsucker!!” Screaming as I tossed him into the box. Quickly closing the flaps to start taping up the box. 

“You realize that I’m a cat! I love boxes!” He wasn’t moving or trying to jump out of the box. Shocking. Maybe when I’m done taping his arse up he'll start getting ancy. Don’t worry I don’t plan on sending him anywhere. He’ll just be going with me into town so he can start “fixing” my situation. 

“If you were just a regular cat yes! But your human side can’t stand living in a box!” He went silent as I tossed the tape to the side of the room. A few seconds passed as he began scratching the box. 

“Okay you had your fun! Let me out!” Time to go see her. Picking up the now heavy box since this guy is stupidly big for some reason. He began moving around to the box and it almost caused me to drop it. 

“Okay okay! I promise I’ll stop the licking on the couch. Can’t exactly pop into the shower with you and diving into salt water won’t solve the problem! Now let me out!” He was so close to getting out till he screamed at me to let him out. 

“If you’re so old and so wise..why on earth have your manners not developed.” Locking the cottage door to then begin walking towards the car. He was still screaming at me to let him out, but was being drowned up with my humming of some simple John Denver. Though American..he still has some very beautiful songs. 

Throwing him into the passenger seat as I walked over to his side of the car to begin putting the top of the hood up. Yes the sun is going away, but it looks a little more cloudy than I like to have a top down. My playlist was already beginning to play as Hyacinth was hissing in the box. 

“Please no John Denver!” Walking towards the other side of the car to put my side of the hood up. 

“Why? Can’t stand good music?” He was quite till his eyes looked through the handle holes. 

“I just don’t want to cry.” This is for cleaning yourself up on my couch. Turning the dial as he was beginning to meow obnoxiously in the box. Listen to it and wheat bitch! Climbing into the driver side of the car as John began singing through the radio. 

“Screw you Gwil.” He was actually cry!? Glad to know that one thing he can do besides be a pest is to be an amusement by watching him sob to John Denver. Putting the car into reverse as I began turning us around, then beginning to drive down the dirt path to get on the main road. 

“MEEOOOWWW!” Ignore him. 

“MMMMMEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!” He’s being a little attention seeker. Just ignore him. 

“MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW!” Nope. Not giving him the stupid satisfaction of annoying me and him getting out of the box. 

“Fine. Two can play at this game bloodsucker!” HE coughed a little then stuck his head out in one of the handle holes. 

“BUT THE COLORADO ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH! I’VE SEEN IT RAININ FIRE IN THE SKY! SHADOWS FROM THE STARLIGHT IS SOFTER THAN A LULLABYE!” 

“DON’T YOU DARE INSULT THE MUSIC OF JOHN DONVER!” He wouldn’t! He wouldn’t dare insult the signing of John Denver! 

“ROCKY MOUNTAIN HIGH!” Turning the car sharply to the side of the road then parking it on the side. Ripping open the box to see him with big stupid eyes looking like regret. 

“Fine. You can have the house in Alberta Canada if you stop meowing like alittle twat AND NEVER INSULT THE MUSIC OF JOHN DENVER!” He smiled as he climbed out of the box, kicking it to the floor then getting comfy in the seat. 

“Glad we can come to an agreement. What part in Alberta?” 

“Right on the shore of Eva Lake. Absolutely gorgeous since no one travels that far north. So the air is very refreshing.” He purred as he sunk into the chair as I got back onto the main road. 

Pulling up to the curb as I climbed out of the car with Hyancith falling slowly behind. He kept purring as we got closer and closer to the shop as my fingers began feeling a little numb from the fact of this happening again. 

“Oh my god are you really nervous?” Snapping at me before I could open the door. Is it wrong to be nervous. 

“Well I can’t help it ya know.”

“Open the stupid door you bafone.” He tried jumping on top of my shoulder but I dodged his jump for him to fall on his feet. Shaking his head as he sat back down on his butt. 

“That was rude of you. I was going to hide in your jacket so she wouldn’t notice me.” For someone who calls himself wise..he sure is a dumbass. Like she wouldn’t notice a large bump in my clothing. 

Walking into the store with him poking his head out from the back of my jacket. This was so stupid! The door closed behind us as a woman came out of the back with a wooden crate filled with some sort of jars. 

“What can I help you with?” She began unpacking the crate as I approached her. 

“Ummm..I would like to have a scrying done by..umm..Miss Robin La Torneau? I was planning on getting it done when you were in Highbridge but you two left before I could even give it a shot.” Nervously laughing as I felt Hyacinth shaking his head behind me cause his whiskers were tickling my cheek. 

“She went to buy some fish for dinner, should be back in a few minutes or so. Knowing her she got distracted by some kind of animal or some sort of attraction a person has on the side of the street. Please sit at the table behind the curtain till she gets back.” Nodding as I walked through the curtain to sit down at the table. Hyacinth climbed out of my jacket to walk all over the table trying not to knock over anything. 

The room was egg white that had painted leafs and branches all over the walls and even the ceilings. The only light source in the room was a light that had vines with little lights acting as leafs. It felt so magical oh my god. 

An old blue wardrobe had a bunch of herbs, a collection of different colored candles,  a bunch of small knives, some kind of mixing bowl, and other witchy things were in the wardrobe. I’ve never seen her shop before so decked out in so many different spices, and everything else. 

“Has she always been this witchy? I swear this place looks like something you would see on Pinterest. But an actual witch place. Do you know if she has skulls in a secret closest or even lambs in the back for sacrifices?” What a furry ass hole! 

“A dog? Since when are you into dogs?” Shit! Hyancith looking at the curtain for his fur to start rising. Shit shit! Yanking him from the table to shove him back underneath my jacket. 

“Let me out! I’m going to kill that dog!” He was muffling from my jacket till I zipped it up then smacking the back of it. 

“Don’t say a word otherwise we’re screwed!” Yelling through my teeth as she was moving stuff around in the other room. He was still moving around in the back of my jacket till I leaned back into the chair for him to stop moving. Looking like a fucking hump on my back as she came into the room. 

Her beautiful wild curly hair, her beautiful golden skin was shining with the dimmed lighting in the room. Those beautiful grass green eyes lost in her looking at me..and this dumbass cat on my back. 

She wore a long high waisted red skirt with a black dress shirt that had a little bow tie around the collar. Small black heels were on her feet as she was tapping her foot. Every time we come into contact she gets all nervous and her foot always starts tapping. 

“Good evening sir..ummm. May I ask what kind of reading were you wanting today?” She looked so beautiful so nervous in front of me. 

“No real preference.” Come to think of it..would it be a good idea for her to read my future or anything? Would that cause another sort of body shut down? 

“Figured I’d try something a little different and do some capnomancy..sound okay?” Nodding to her as my thumb as began moving in small circles. She was beginning to gather things from the wardrobe. 

“So I heard that you came all the way from Highbridge to see little old me.” Little old you? 

“Ummm yes.” 

“You’re totally blowing it!” Smacking my back as she spun around to see what happened. Acting natural as if it was her imagination doing the voices. Stupid cat! Causing so many stupid troubles in my life! 

[rachelstwomoms]

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU: Rachel’s Birthday (Part 1/?)

Sera is a big part of this AU, so if you want to know a little more about her character before reading this story, check her profile out!

Originally written as a birthday gift for @ohdoeadeer .

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

Stupid.

The birthday girl sits alone, face twisted into a deep scowl, watching her party from her from her spot on the edge of the sofa. Some of her classmates are crowded around the kitchen counters where the party snacks lay out in big bowls, grabbing handfuls of cheese-flavored chips, bright orange dust sticking to fingertips still wet from the pool. She can’t see into the backyard from the living room, but she can hear the boys howling and whooping wildly, playing some kind of obnoxious game that’s causing a lot of splashing. A few of her friends are taking a break from swimming and are watching her from the next room. Whispering. And from the way they keep glancing towards her practically every other word, it’s obvious that they’re talking about her.

Stupid.

Two girls break from their circle and slowly, cautiously come her way.

So she narrows her eyes, locks her jaw in a stiff frown and glares daggers at them. Daring them to take another step. When they freeze, changing their minds and quickly sitting back down, she smirks in satisfaction.

This party is stupid.

Her back itches and she twitches. Tilting her head backwards, she shakes out her long, blonde hair from where it was sticking to her shoulders due to a combination of chlorine, sunscreen and mid-July heat. Sighing and crossing her arms tightly across her chest, she presses herself deeper into the sofa cushions.

It’s not like she expected her party to pause for her.

It’s just really… no, hella unfair and annoying that everyone else gets to be happy and have a great time when this is the worst day of her life.

She wonders how much longer she has until Chloe and Maxine come looking for her.

“Rachel! Where are you?”

Speak of the devils.

Chloe, dripping wet and tracking water across the hardwood floors, spots her first and comes bounding over. Maxine, wrapped like a burrito in her oversized bath towel, trails close behind.

“What are you doing in here?” Chloe plops herself down on the sofa right next to Rachel. “You said you would be right back and that was ages ago. What were you doing?”

Rachel gives a short shrug and gestures to the half-empty cup of orange soda on the coffee table. “I was thirsty.”

“Oh, sweet!” Chloe grabs the cup and takes a swig, then passes it over to Maxine, who first peers inside at the liquid before taking a small sip too. “Anyways, you took forever so Maxine and I finished the game by ourselves.”

“We did wait for you,” Maxine insists, “but you never came back.”

“So, after you left, we found a secret underwater passageway that led us straight into enemy territory!” Chloe explains. “They didn’t see us coming, so we were able to sneak up and ambush them. They put up a good fight but, alas, they were no match for Captain Bluebeard and Long Max Silver!”

Smiling, Maxine frees one of her hands and holds up something shiny and round. “We got the amulet back.”

“Yeah, no thanks to somebody who abandoned her crew in their time of need,” Chloe teases, expecting a snarky comeback or a playful shove on the shoulder like usual. It never comes. Actually, it doesn’t even look like her friend’s paying attention. She seems to be in a strange sort of mood all of a sudden. Chloe waves a hand in front of Rachel’s face. “Hellooo? Earth to Rachel.”

“Are you okay?” Maxine starts to worry.

Rachel heaves an agitated sigh. “This party hella sucks.”

Chloe and Maxine share an equally confused, equally concerned look. After a moment, Chloe clears her throat and speaks in a lighthearted tone, trying to bring Rachel out of her funk. “Well, anyways, Rose told us to come get you. It’s time for cake!”

Although Rachel doesn’t give a verbal response, she allows her friends to drag her into the dining room where most of the party guests have gathered. Maxine leads Rachel by the hand to the empty chair at the head of the table and tells her to sit. Rose carries a pretty double-tiered cake from the kitchen over to the dining table, eliciting various noises of awe and excitement from Rachel’s sugar craving classmates. Already a skilled little actress, Rachel puts on her most convincing look of disinterest and boredom.

“All right, kids, step back please,” James says, clearing a small opening so he can reach the cake. He pulls out a matchbook from his pocket and he and Rose start to light the candles. It takes four matches and over a minute for the pair of them to get all twelve lit. Red, blue, yellow and pink wax melt into unappetizing puddles on the frosting, and Rose encourages everyone to hurry and start the birthday song while there are still candles left.

Chloe grins and starts waving her hands like the conductor of some grand orchestra, and Maxine and the other kids all start to sing.

------------------------------ 

Rachel the Pirate Queen is on a very important mission, entrusted by Captain Bluebeard herself. She only has a few minutes to return to their trusty ship, the Bane of Arcadia, before the tides change and it becomes impossible to reach the island tonight. If they don’t, it will be too late to reclaim their stolen treasure, and worse, their amulet will be in the hands of the enemy!

The most practical way to access the island is by swimming through a dark, treacherous underwater cave. But the entrance is always under heavy surveillance by evil mermaid guardians.  

And Rachel has a bunch of old mermaid dolls that would be totally perfect for their game.

The newly turned twelve year old leaps up the stairs two at a time and bursts into her bedroom, immediately opening her closet and tearing its contents apart. Rose will probably get mad at her later for making a mess, but she can deal with that when the time comes. Right now she has to find those mermaids. After going through the closet without any luck, Rachel starts to rummage through dresser drawers and bookshelves.

That’s when her phone rings.

Breaking into a huge smile, Rachel immediately drops what she’s doing and grabs her phone from her bed, flipping it open and hitting the “answer” button without looking at the caller ID. There’s only one person who could possibly be phoning her right now, and Rachel’s been waiting for this call the entire day.

“Hi Mom!”

“Happy birthday, Baby. I love you so much.”

“Love you too!” Rachel takes a seat on the edge of her mattress and cradles the phone to her ear. “Mom, where are you? You’re gonna miss the cake and presents!”

“Dawn, listen-”

“Wait ‘til you see the cake! Rose got me the special kind, you know, where there’s the bottom cake and then a smaller one stacked on top? It’s chocolate with chocolate frosting, and the frosting is really, really shiny, like the kind we had for my birthday last year. From that place near the mall that you and me went to! Remember?”

“Dark chocolate cupcakes. I remember.”

“The outside is covered in rainbow sprinkles and it’s so pretty. Mom, some of the sprinkles are tiny silver stars!”

“It sounds beautiful. Eat an extra slice for me, okay?”

“Chloe and Maxine are sleeping over tonight, but tomorrow we can-” Rachel halts mid-sentence as the implications of her mother’s choice of words hit her, and all of a sudden there’s a strange sort of heaviness in the pit of her stomach. “You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

“My boss called me late last night. Baby, there was a big mix-up involving some of the orders at work and he needed me to come in today to help straighten things out.”

“But you already took the week off. You told me that he said it was okay.”

“I know, Dawn. But I was the one in charge of those orders. They can’t fix the problem without me.”

“You’re almost done, though, right? You can take a later flight, and I can save you a piece of cake, and… and it’s okay even if it’s really late! I’ll stay up until you get here!”

“We’re trying to sort everything out as fast as we can, but things aren’t looking good.”

There’s a long pause of silence before Rachel speaks again. When she does, her tone is flat. “So you’re not coming.” It’s not a question. She already knows the answer.

“I’m so, so sorry. I want to be there with you more than anything. You know that, right?”

The longer Sera talks, the less Rachel hears. Her heart thumps in her ears. Her grip tightens around her phone. Her shoulders start to tremble, but not from the cold. In fact, her skin is still warm to the touch from spending most of the afternoon in the sun. “But it’s my birthday!” Rachel growls, voice strained and a pitch higher than normal.  

“I might be able to come up next week instead. I promise we’ll celebrate then.”

“NO!” Rachel is feeling a mixture of emotions, hurt and disappointment at the top of the list, but it manifests as anger and she explodes at Sera through the phone. “It’s not fair! You promised you’d come today!”

“Rachel, please. Believe me, I wish-“

“You’re a liar!” Rachel spits, the words spilling out as rage takes control of her mouth. “Forget it! I don’t care! This… this is BULLSHIT!”

Before Sera can say anything else, or scold her for throwing in a swear, Rachel snaps her phone shut.

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

The “Happy Birthday” song is a big, fat lie. Rachel isn’t happy at all.

About halfway through the song, she reaches her limit and she’s over it. Over everything. Everybody. Over this whole stupid party. Rachel tries to hold back her anger, tries to just keep her eyes on the cake and block out everything else, but she can still see everybody’s stupid smiling faces in her peripheral vision.

And she can’t take it.

Standing so abruptly and forcefully that it sends her chair skidding backwards several inches, Rachel grabs the platter underneath her cake and lifts it up as high as she can. The cake is heavier than it looks, so she struggles to hold it any higher than eye-level, but this is more than enough to cause her party guests to stop singing and watch her in confusion.

Having about a decade’s worth of experience dealing with her stepdaughter’s fiery temper and subsequent outbursts, Rose is the first to realize what’s about to happen. Her arms shoot out towards the cake instinctively. “Rachel, don’t-“

But the warning is a little too late, and Rose is pretty sure that it would have been futile regardless.

To everyone’s horror, Rachel smashes the cake down onto the tabletop. The top layer is knocked askew, cracking into two chunks, and the motion alone puts out all but three of the candles. A few of her friends gasp, but then shocked silence spreads through the room. Rachel can tell without even looking that everyone’s staring at her.

In the next second, Rachel bolts from the scene, pushing past several classmates in her haste and roughly bumping into somebody with her shoulder. She doesn’t stop to see who it is. Right now she doesn’t care. She disappears upstairs and slams her bedroom door behind her. James calls his daughter’s name and makes a move to go after her, but Rose stops him.

“No, James. Let her be.” Rose is all too familiar with Rachel’s tantrums and knows that there’s no point in trying to talk to her until she’s had time to cool down. “Right now I could use your help.”

While Rose and James decide what to do about the birthday cake situation, the rest of the room falls into chaos. The kids all start talking at once, some asking what’s wrong with Rachel… some wondering if there’s still going to be cake… but most expressing their utter astonishment at the cake incident.

“Hey! Maxine’s bleeding!”

The announcement is loud enough to be heard over all the clamor. Rose whips her head around at the mention of blood and spots Chloe fussing over Maxine, who’s in tears and has her hands over her nose and mouth.

Rose hurries over and sits her in one of the chairs. “Oh, Maxine, she ran into you, didn’t she? Let me take a look.” Carefully taking Maxine’s hands away from her face, Rose is met with the unpleasant sight of dark red blood trailing slowly trailing down the girl’s mouth and chin. “James, grab me some Kleenex, would you?”

“I’ll get it!” yells Chloe, jumping up. She quickly retrieves the box of tissues that she remembers seeing in the living room earlier.

Rose thanks Chloe, then grabs a handful of tissues and holds them against Maxine’s nose. Maxine pulls back slightly, crying out in pain, so Rose adjusts hold to one that’s more gentle. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”

Chloe stands by her best friend’s side and holds her hand. “Don’t worry, I promise it’s not that bad.”

After a minute, Rose removes the tissues and inspects the damage. The bleeding already seems to be stopping. “Chloe’s right. There’s not too much blood left. You’re going to be fine.” Behind her, James finishes inspecting the confectionery carnage and reports that the serving platter is still intact and the cake should still be safe to eat. Rose plucks some fresh tissues from the box. “Thank goodness. Here, Maxine, take these and I’ll check back on you in a bit, okay?” The woman runs off to wash her hands, then joins her husband in slicing up the cake for anybody who still wants some.

“Does it hurt?” asks Chloe, worried about her friend.

Maxine, still holding tissues to her nose, nods slightly. “Kind of.”

“Something’s wrong. There’s no way Rachel would hurt you on purpose.”

“I know,” says Maxine. “I think something really bad happened after she went inside.”

“Do you think she got into a fight or something?” Chloe wonders. She lowers her voice so only Maxine can hear. “Or maybe she got in trouble. Do you think Rose found out about the-“

“Think I found out about what, now?” Rose suddenly reappears from behind, startling the girls. Chloe shakes her head and starts to stutter, but Rose chuckles. “It’s all right, I won’t ask. How’s your nose doing, Maxine?”

Maxine slowly removes the tissues from her nose and waits a moment. She gives a tiny, careful sniff, but it doesn’t feel like there’s any more blood. “I think it stopped.”

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and clean up?” Rose hands Maxine a t-shirt that the girls recognize as one of Rachel’s. “When you’re done, give me your shirt. I’ll try to get those stains out.”

Looking down at her own shirt, Maxine sees the reddish-brown splotches that have already started to dry and set into the fabric. Her stomach churns at the sight and she gratefully accepts the change of clothes. In the downstairs bathroom, Maxine rinses herself off and gets changed. She comes back out blood-free and looking as good as new. She hands Rose her soiled top with a shy thank you.

“No problem, dear,” says Rose, taking the shirt. “Girls, could you go upstairs and see how Rachel’s doing? I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me or her father just yet, but she might appreciate having you two there with her.”

Chloe and Maxine nod. Even if Rose hadn’t asked them, checking up on their friend was already next on their list of things to do.

“What happened?” asks Chloe.

“Do you girls remember Sera, her mother? Sera was supposed to be at the party today, but she ended up not being able to come. Rachel’s… understandably upset.” Rose gives a sad smile. “Anyway, you girls go on ahead. I’ll be up in a bit to check on her.”

Chloe and Maxine climb up to the second floor and stop in front of Rachel’s room. Chloe knocks, then opens the door a few inches and sticks her head inside. Rachel is lying on the bed facing the opposite wall. “Rachel?” Chloe pauses for an answer but she doesn’t get one. “It’s just me and Maxine. We’re coming in.”

Walking into the room, Chloe glances around. The closet looks overturned and Rachel’s belongings are strewn all over the floor. A few drawers are open, their contents messily tossed about as well. “Hey, are you okay?” When Chloe is once again met with silence, she turns to Maxine only to find her still in the hallway, clinging to the door frame. Chloe gestures for Maxine to hurry up and come inside. After a moment of hesitation, Maxine runs on her tiptoes to catch up to Chloe, who climbs onto the bed next to Rachel. Maxine perches lightly on the very edge of the mattress.  

“Rose told us about your mom,” Chloe says. “That hella sucks…”

Silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

More silence.

Rachel still hasn’t moved, nor given any indication that she’s even aware of Chloe and Maxine’s presence. So Chloe makes herself comfortable and motions for Maxine to do the same. “Well, it’s okay if you don’t. We’ll stay here to keep you company. Right, Maxine?”

Maxine finds her voice. “Yeah, it’s not a party without you.”

“Rach, you should’ve seen Maxine earlier. You clocked her in the face good and her nose was, like, gushing blood-”

“Chloe!” Maxine swats her friend on the arm.

To their surprise, Rachel rolls over, pushing herself into a sitting position.

And she speaks!

“Oh my god, really?”

Chloe and Maxine and relieved to hear Rachel’s voice again, even if it sounds tired and scratchy. They take a good look at their friend’s face for the first time since before the cake catastrophe. Although Rachel’s eyes are dry now, there are shiny tear streaks down her cheeks and it’s obvious that she had been crying.  

Maxine’s tone goes soft. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Sorry. I totally didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay!” Maxine gives Rachel a small smile. “We’re, um… more worried about you.”

“Oh.”

“If you wanna tell us what happened, we’re here to listen,” Chloe repeats.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Rachel sighs, scooting backwards until she’s against her headboard. Chloe and Maxine are watching her intently, waiting for her to talk. Normally, Rachel loves being the center of attention, but this is a sensitive topic and her friends’ gazes are making her uncomfortable. Keeping her eyes down, Rachel hugs her knees to her chest in attempt to feel less vulnerable. “My mom called.”

As soon as Rachel mentions her mother, her voice breaks and her tears start anew. Chloe moves right beside her and puts an arm around her shoulders. Even Maxine ventures to a new spot on the bed closer to her friends. Neither of them speak. They just let Rachel vent.

“She said she’s too busy to come to my party... even though she promised!” Rachel’s voice is thick with emotion. “It’s not fair! Why did Dad have to make us move so far away? I hate it here! Now I never get to see her!”

“But she still texts you, like, every day, right?” Chloe tries to cheer Rachel up. “That’s pretty cool.”

“And you talk to her on the phone,” Maxine adds.

But Rachel snuffles and shakes her head, letting out a quivery, shuddery sob. “It’s not the same!”

There’s a knock on the door, and all three girls turn to see Rose standing in the doorway. “Rachel, honey, can I come in?” Taking her stepdaughter’s lack of a response as a yes, Rose walks around to the other side of the bed and takes a seat. “I know you’re disappointed. Your father and I were looking forward to seeing Sera today too. It’s completely normal to feel sad.”

“I’m not sad!” Rachel glares in Rose’s direction. “I’m mad! She cares about work more than me!”

“Oh, Rachel, you know that’s not true.”

Rachel scoffs. “Well, she’s not here, is she?”

“Honey, come here,” Rose says gently, opening her arms towards Rachel. The girl tries to keep up her tough front, staring hard at her stepmother for a few moments, but Rose waits patiently, looking at her with eyes full nothing but love. Sure enough, Rachel’s defenses crumble and she surrenders, breaking away from Chloe and falling forward into the embrace. Rose’s hugs are always warm and comforting. Her anger melts away, leaving just the hurt behind.

Rose was right.

She is disappointed.

For as long as Rachel can remember, Sera has always been there on her birthday. She’s been at every birthday party and every special birthday dinner at Rachel’s favorite restaurant. There’s plenty of photographic proof in the photo albums Rose has compiled over the years. Rachel has so many special memories celebrating her birthday with her mom. On her ninth birthday, Sera surprised her by showing up at her theater camp with birthday treats to share with the other campers. When Rachel turned five, she had a really bad cold and wasn’t able to leave the house, but Sera came over with a box of cake mix and a tub of frosting and they made a birthday cake together. She even got to lick the batter off the spoon!

But this was before they moved to Oregon. When the Ambers still lived in California, Sera was only a fifteen minute car ride away. Rachel saw her mom all the time.

And everyone knows that it’s impossible to get from Long Beach to Arcadia Bay in fifteen minutes.

Rachel thinks about her mom and wonders how many more birthdays she might miss now that they’re a thousand miles apart.

Rose was right.

She is sad.

And so Rachel cries for what feels like several minutes, or days, or years, or maybe an eternity. Rose just holds her tightly and rubs soothing patterns onto her back until she gets all her feelings out and has no tears left. There’s still a smidge of sad left, the kind that will only fade with time, but, compared to how miserable she was earlier, the birthday girl is feeling a whole lot better now. Taking a deep breath, Rachel pulls away and looks up at Rose, ready to confess the truth that she’s been keeping inside all day. “I just really, really miss her…”

“I know, I know…” says Rose, brushing the remnants of Rachel’s tears away with her fingers. “And I know she misses you. But she loves you with all her heart. So do I.” Rose leans down and kisses the top of her stepdaughter’s head. “So does Daddy. And Chloe and Maxine.”

Rachel looks over her shoulder at her friends, who nod their heads enthusiastically. Chloe puts her hands over her heart and playfully bats her eyes at her before erupting into laughter. Maxine watches, shaking her head at Chloe’s antics, but then she turns to Rachel and gives her a sweet smile.

Her friends are such dorks. Rachel can’t help but let out a tiny giggle.

“Are you feeling better now?” asks Maxine.

Rachel shrugs. “A little.”

“See, Rachel? Right now there’s a house full of people who care about you and want to celebrate your big day with you,” Rose continues. “What do you say? Will you come back downstairs and join us?”

Chloe clasps her hands together and makes exaggerated puppy dog eyes. “Pleeease?”

“You’re so weird.” Rachel lightly shoves her backwards, laughing. “Fine, let’s go.”

“Yes!” Chloe pumps her fist in the air and runs for the door, calling to her friends to follow. “Come on, slowpokes, let’s see if there’s any cake left!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming!” Sliding off her bed, Rachel turns to Maxine and holds out a hand. As much as she loves Chloe and her silly antics, Rachel’s really glad that she also has a friend like Maxine. Maxine’s quiet, but not too quiet. Perfect quiet. There’s something about being with her that brings Rachel comfort, and that’s exactly what she needs right now. “Sit next to me, okay?”

Excited to have Rachel back, Maxine happily takes her hand. “Let’s go before Chloe eats it all.”

The girls head downstairs and find Chloe sitting at the kitchen counter, shoveling cake into her mouth. There are two slices already waiting for them, forks, napkins and all. Rachel takes a serving and sits next to Chloe, waving Maxine over to the seat on her other side. But before either of them can take a bite, a couple of Rachel’s classmates burst inside the house, shrieking excitedly at the sight of the birthday girl.

“Rachel! There you are!” exclaims one of the girls. “You have to come outside! We just started a new round of spin the bottle truth or dare and, like, the whole class is playing!”

Maxine furrows her brows in confusion. “Spin the bottle truth or dare?”

“Me and Juliet are gonna try and find out if Justin has a crush on someone,” the other girl says in a teasing tone, eyes sparkling mischievously.  

“Dana!” Cheeks turning a faint shade of pink, Rachel pretends to kick her. This only causes Dana to squeal again. “Not so loud.”

“Leave us alone. We’re trying to eat,” Chloe mumbles through a mouthful of cake. Rachel raises an eyebrow. Her friend suddenly sounds grumpy, but she shrugs it off.

“Chloe, Maxine, you guys have to play too!” Juliet insists. “Come on, just bring your cake with you!”

Rachel is on the fence. While she would very much love to stay in the house and finish her birthday cake, this game does sound kind of interesting. Imagine all the juicy gossip. This might be her chance to find out all sorts of things about her classmates. And, well… Rachel does kind of want to know if there’s somebody Justin likes. She looks to her left. Chloe makes a grossed-out face and signals a thumbs down. She looks to her right. Maxine only gives her a vague sort of smile.

Neither of which are very helpful.

Curling her lips into a pout, Rachel turns back to her cake. “I don’t know.”

Dana tugs on Rachel’s arm. “Come on! It’ll be awesome, I promise!”

“Oh my god, look!”

Suddenly, Juliet’s shouting and pointing at something outside. Rachel looks out the sliding glass doors just in time to catch one of the boys doing a backwards flip into the pool. Fully-clothed. The corners of her mouth curl upwards ever so slightly. This party could still turn out to be fun.

Maybe one little game won’t hurt. Of course, she still has to convince her friends to join her. Maxine won’t be a problem, it’s Chloe who will be more of a challenge. Rachel isn’t really worried, though. All she needs to do is play the birthday card and there’s no way Chloe can say no.

And even if she does, Rachel has a few more tricks up her sleeve.

She is a skilled little actress, after all.

[conandonandon]

Flowery Exchanges (Connor x Reader)

This story has been removed as I intend to make it into an original short comic with different characters. If you liked the original story and happen to find the comic please don't mention it was a fanfic because I am very private with my fanfic and don't want it tied to my public presence, sorry.

[turtle-steverogers]

the good and the bad

hi i want bread

warnings: death uh, crying

editing: no

ship: ralbert

word count: like 2000 ish

September 23

Leaves crunched under Race’s shoes, the noise amplified by the accompanying silence.  It was warm still, the sun bleeding persistently through the trees, combated only by the few leaves that remained on the branches.  There wasn’t a clear path through the woods.  The thick underbrush made it nearly impossible to walk normally, but he persisted, trudging onward.

He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going.  He just needed to clear his head; get out of the house for a little while.  He was craving somewhere new and exotic, but his options were limited within his small hometown.

So he decided to expand his horizons within the confines of his little bubble.  Explore a little- find somewhere new and refreshing.

So when his legs carried him off of the sidewalk and into the expansive stretch of woods that surrounded his neighborhood, he resolved to trusting his instinct.  

It was a pleasant Fall day.  Entirely ideal for this sort of adventure and he smiled, feeling at ease in his afresh solitude.  The land sloped downward and the tangle of trees thinned out to reveal a small clearing.  

Yellow grass blanketed the flat land, countered only by the small clumps of flowers that were scattered at random.  The tree line seemed to create a perfect circle, sheltering the area from the outside world.  

Race had long since lost track of the sound of traffic and other clues to life, but he didn’t mind much.  He was getting what he came for.

He trailed along the edge of the clearing, coming to a halt in front of two trees.  He sat down, leaning his back against the trunk of the nearest tree and closing his eyes, allowing the sounds of nature to swallow him.

“Yo,” a voice sounded directly above him and his eyes flew open, his heart leaping into his chest as he froze.  Someone dropped out of the tree adjacent to him, sticking the landing heavily.

Race’s gaze traveled from the guy’s shoes to his face, taking note of the utterly obnoxious way he was dressed.  Despite his borderline fuckboy clothing, he was charming- attractive even.  The sun reflected flatteringly in his auburn hair and he seemed to have a permanent glint in his eyes.

The guy barked out a laugh, “Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry, but,” he raised his eyebrows, “did you just check me out?”

Race fought the smile that threatened to grow on his face, “Nah, bro, you just literally landed in my line of sight.”

The guy studied him for a moment before plopping down in front of him, crossing his legs and sticking out a hand, “‘Sup, bro, I’m Albert.”

Race allowed a small smirk to form as he took Albert’s hand, “Race.”

“Race,” Albert said, slowly, “exotic, I like it.”

“It’s not exotic,” Race countered, “It’s a nickname.”

“Even cooler,” Albert said, “So,” he leaned back, propping himself up on his forearms and stretching his legs in front of him, “what brings you to my woods?”

Race cocked his head, letting out an amused huff, “Your woods?”

“Hell yeah, man,” Albert said, throwing his head back and looking towards the sky, his hair falling behind him, “been coming to this place to catch my breath since I found it like a year ago.  No one else has ever come, so I called dibs on it.”

Race quirked an eyebrow, “How could you call dibs when no one else was around to challenge that.”

Albert furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Race, “Uh,” he paused, “well you’re here now, so, dibs.”

September 24

“Welcome back.”

Race grinned up at Albert where he was standing on a branch right above his head.

“Couldn’t stay away?” Albert asked, sitting on the branch and reaching a hand out to help Race up.

Race floundered for a moment before settling beside Albert, dangling his legs towards the ground, “Guess I couldn’t,” he admitted, “S’nice here.”

“Sure is,” Albert said, turning to face Race and sitting back against the trunk, propping one leg on Race’s lap and letting the other swing back and forth, suspended in the air.

Race looked down at the leg on his lap, “Already on this level, huh?”

Albert laughed, lifting his leg and poking Race in the chin with his shoe.  Race yelped rearing backwards slightly and nearly losing balance.  Albert’s eyes widened and he sat up hastily, grabbing Race’s bicep before he could fall completely.

“Whoop, sorry about that,” he said, sincerely.

“You’re good,” Race said, gripping Albert’s hand to steady himself, “I’m good.”

The silence they fell into was oddly comfortable.  Although Race hadn’t known Albert for very long, but something about him felt familiar- reassuring- and as they sat in the tree, watching the sky turn from dull blue to orange, he couldn’t help but feel as if something had led him here.  A pull stronger than curiosity.

October 14

“You okay?”

Albert wasn’t in the tree when Race showed up.  Instead he was sat on the grass, knees bent in front of him.  His eyes looked oddly devoid of their usual glint and Race frowned, worry spreading through his chest.  He didn’t give any hint as to whether he’d heard Race or not and Race could see his fingers twitching as he fiddled with his watchband.

“What’s up?” he asked gently as he sat next to Albert.

Albert’s eyes flicked towards him for a moment, the only acknowledgement he’d made to his presence so far.  He didn’t answer the question directly, his shoulders shrugging somewhat uncomfortably as he spoke.

“M’not gonna be good company right now, you don’t gotta stick around.”

Race grimaced, “We don’t gotta talk about it, but I’ma stay, dude.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I like it here, too,” Race said, “And I care about you, I don’t want you to be alone.”

Albert nodded, lowering his chin to his knees, “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Anytime.”

The breeze around them picked up, and Race clenched his teeth to keep them from chattering.  He scooted towards Albert slightly, hoping he’d take the invitation.  To Race’s surprise, he did, tucking his head onto his shoulder and shifting closer as well.  It wasn’t much, but it provided some shield against the wind.

“We should bring a blanket out here or something,” Albert stated, “It’s getting too fucking cold.”

“It’s not that cold,” Race pointed out, “Only, like, 50 something degrees.”

“Too cold,” Albert pouted.

Race laughed, shrugging the shoulder Albert was leaning against, “Alright, buddy.”

Their breaths synced, an even rhythm echoing between them.  Race closed his eyes, allowing tranquility to envelope him.  He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but neither of them seemed to want to move.

“My little brother is sick again,” Albert spoke softly, “And he’ll be fine, I hope, but shit in my house always gets really hectic when he gets flare ups and I just,” he sighed, moving almost impossibly closer to Race, “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.”

Race nodded, placing his hand over Albert’s and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles soothingly, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Albert said, trailing off for a moment before continuing, “It hurts seeing Elijah like that and I know it hurts my dad and Thomas, too.  I wish we could all just be happy and healthy.”

“You will be one day,” Race tried to console him, “One day, Elijah’s gonna beat this shit and you’ll all live long, happy, healthy lives together.”

“I hope so.”

October 31

“Broughtcha some candy, dumbass.”

Race had gotten there before Albert that day, opting to arrive early and set up the mini blanket fort under the tree they’d been plotting for ages while Albert took his brothers trick or treating.

He peeked his head out from the blanket that draped down from the lowest branch, acting as a door.  Albert was staring at the fort with wide eyes, pillowcase full of candy in hand.

“This is sick,” he breathed, snapping out of his reverie and joining Race inside.  

He’d opted out of adding a roof, content with peering upwards past the treetops where faint, twinkling stars could be seen.

“I know, I slaved on it for hours for you,” Race teased, plucking a snickers bar out of the bag and popping it in his mouth.  

“Fake,” Albert said, smiling at him.

“You’re right,” Race said through a mouthful of chocolate, “Took me like fifteen minutes.”

They laid back on the comforter that Race had laid out as the floor, pulling another blanket over themselves as they settled in.  They curled into each other, fitting together like a puzzle piece.  It felt natural, the way they melded into one another so seamlessly, a silent understanding ingrained into their souls.  

Race rested his head on Albert’s chest rolling over enough so he could still see upwards.  He could feel Albert’s heart beating beneath him.  The steady pulse grounding him and pulling him further into the earth, cementing warmth into his stomach.

He lifted his head, rolling onto his stomach and propping himself up onto one elbow.  Albert looked down at him, a silent question in his eyes.  He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly shut it, eyes flicking almost inconspicuously down to Race’s mouth.

Race leaned forward, eyes falling closed as he pressed his lips to Albert’s.  They let out simultaneous sighs, the final knot tied as they deepened the kiss.  

Neither of them pulled back for a while, losing themselves in each other.  Eventually, Race leaned away, keeping his eyes closed as he felt a smile stretch across his face.

A hand brushed his face and he opened his eyes, seeing Albert looking back at him with an awed expression.

“I love you.” Albert’s voice was a faint whisper, the words reserving themselves for only Race.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back.

November 11

Race sat and waited in the clearing, hours upon hours passing with no Albert.  Figuring he must have just been busy, Race left.

November 20

Once again, Race was left alone in the clearing.  This time, a sick feeling in his gut growing more intense as the minutes passed.  He hadn’t heard from Albert in days.  Something wasn’t right.

November 30

A month since the kiss.  Three weeks since he’d last seen Albert.  No sign from him.  No explanation.  Nothing.  

Race sat numb, back against the same tree as he stared at the sky, wishing for answers it couldn’t provide.

December 3

It was officially cold.  The real definition, not Albert’s, and as Race trekked towards where he’d discovered the other boy lived, he couldn’t stop his body from shaking.

Partly from nerves, mostly from the biting wind.

He knocked at the door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he waited.  A boy, no older than 13 answered, staring at him with quizzical eyes.

“Yes?”

“Uh, hi,” Race swallowed, the realization that he had no idea what he was going to say hitting him like a truck, “I’m a friend of Albert’s, are you Elijah?”

The boy shook his head, “Nah, Thomas.”

“Right, sorry,” Race said, “uh, nice to meet you, is Al home?”

Something in the boy’s face changed and his eyes grew cold as he answered, “He’s not here anymore.”

The world seemed to muffle and Race shook his head, confused, “What do you mean?”

The boy blew a breath out through his nose and he looked to the side, “I mean,” he looked back at Race, eyes glistening, “He’s not here anymore.  Freak football accident.  You’re his friend, didn’t you hear about it?”

But Race couldn’t hear anything anymore.  He distantly heard himself thank Thomas and turned away before the door closed.  The world was spinning as he walked.  He couldn’t hear his footsteps, or the sounds of the street, or his own thoughts as he walked on autopilot to the place he’d grown so used to visiting.

The clearing seemed darker than it had been before, less welcoming and entirely unfamiliar.

The blanket fort was still up.  He hadn’t bothered to take it down.  Besides, Albert and him had planned to use it more.  One of the blankets blew in the wind, falling unceremoniously from the tree.  

It seemed to wilt along with the rest of the place.  Even the trees had lost their charm.

Race became acutely aware of the tears that stained his cheeks.  He only just remembered to breathe as sobs forced their way out of his stomach in painful waves.  

He didn’t remember walking to the fort, or taking down the blankets, attempting to fold them nicely, but giving up halfway through and discarding them with an angry shout.

He wished he’d never come here.  He wished that he’d stayed painfully oblivious to the beautiful clearing and the beautiful boy it had brought with it.

But he was cursed with the fate of meeting Albert.  Cursed with the fate of falling in love with him.

Doomed with the fate of losing him.

He sat down heavily on one of the blankets, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  Eventually he stood back up, crossing to their tree and clambering onto their branch.  He struggled to stay balanced.  Albert was usually there to help him stay on.

As his tears ebbed away, leaving him empty and hopeless, the life of the forest seemed to rush back to him.

Animals were still traipsing.  Wind was still blowing through the trees.  Life was still going.

But he was gone without him.

-

maybe i should write some Not Angst next, thoughts?

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[bittysvalentines]

Geese and The Soft Morning Sun

From: @beercheesecasserole

To: @disneyinnocent-blog

relationship: Lardo x Camilla Nonbinary character Fluff tw for moderate amounts of drinking, like a slight bit of racism, and fools getting rekt and pong.

~~~ Larissa sat in her new dorm room, fiddling around on her computer.

A blonde head popped in from the door. "Larissa," said her new roommate, Candy, seriously. "Have you seen my dunko doll?"

Larissa looked at the tall girl dumbly.

"What in the goddamn hell are you talking about."

Candy moved fully into the room, standing by Larissa's bed.

"My dunko doll! You know? Dunko dolls? Have you not heard of dunko dolls?"

"No?"

Candy's eyes lit up.

"They're like little figurines of your favorite characters! They're soooo cute, mine’s a princess Biona from Shrecc. It's my favorite movie."

Larissa knew if she listened to more of this she would have a pounding headache in under an hour. Not that her roommate was annoying. She was just very high-pitched.

With a sigh she pushed her computer off of her lap and slid off her bed.

"I haven't seen it. I'm going down to the cafeteria, I'll be back in a few."

"Okay!" Candy said enthusiastically. "By the way, they're serving Chinese there, I'm sure it's not what you're used to at home but I think it's so nice that they're serving something so cultural! You should give it a try!"

Lardo sighed again. She wasn't sure if Candy was just dumb or didn't remember when she had asked 'so... what are you' a month ago. Larissa had never been anything less than Vietnamese-American her entire life. Well, served her right for submitting her roommate papers a day before deadline.

Larissa screamed internally and muttered a quick thanks before escaping down the hall. She would get out of this room if it killed her.

~~~

Larissa looked at the Samwell Sports pamphlet in her hands. Aven from her Ceramics II class had given it to her. Aven had said they managed for Men's Rugby and talked about how they managed to get a room in the team house this year.

"There's not like, a ton of rooms?" they said, chair leaned back and clay covered hands emphasizing wildly. "But it's the BONDS you make. I feel like a part of the team. And I don't even have to play or anything. The guys are great, love em to bits, it's just like SUPER messy all the time. Best house on campus though."

Larissa thought about that. She didn't mind mess. She wouldn't work in 3D media if she did.

~~~

"Ey Lardooooo!" A huge blonde man yelled over the haus crowd in an obnoxious Boston accent. "Be pong partners with me"

Lardo looked over from where she was chatting with Billy about neorealism and its role in the movement of art nouveau and squinted.

"Holster, my dude, respect, but you couldn't hit the flat side of a barn," she said cheerfully. "Hard pass brah."

The blonde giant put on his best puppy-dog eyes while also pushing through the drunk, loud waves of people between them. Lardo likened him to a cute bulldozer. Kinda a good concept, she thought, filing it away for later. Being around jocks all the time surprisingly gave her some great ideas. Lardo wondered for a moment if this had bedazzling potential.

Adam reached her just as soon as the thumping bass of the last song died and just before the new one began.

"Come onnnn," he said with a light in his eyes. "We don't even have to be partners. Ransy wants to play too so you could take his partner and I'll be his! Win win!" He emphasized his argument with a hand motion that seemed to say 'ey? ey?'.

Lardo rolled her eyes.

"Alright. Depends on who it is though."

~~~ Camilla came to the SMH end-of-midterms kegster with Jack but he let her know pretty early that he wasn't going to be around for most of it. Which like, she got. The noise and people could get to be too much for her sometimes too. But as she looked over the crowd tonight she felt tipsy in just the right way to want to get a little rowdy. Then Justin started talking about pong and her plans were set. She wanted to toast some fools.

"Rans!" She called to him as she moved closer "I'm in. Who're we up against?"

Justin pointed wildly over to the living room where a bunch of younger students were moving around to a pulsing beat.

"Holtzy just went to go grab Lardo" he said, grinning "oh man Camilla you gotta witness her back shot, its holy"

Camilla squinted over across the hall into the dim room and saw Holster dragging a small person with a sleek head of black hair behind him.

"Hells yes." she said, turning back to Ransom. "I'll play with whoever, I don't care."

Holster came up behind them and started talking loudly over Camilla's shoulder to the two.

"She's in but only on the condition she doesnt play with me. I'm too rank." he said, dramatically wrinkling his nose. "Cam, you game?"

"Sure" Camilla said enthusiastically, turning to see her new partner.

Holy shit, Camilla thought, face erupting in flame.

~~~

Lardo looked at – no, beheld – the tall honey blonde jock giantess before her. If height wasn't enough to fuck her up, her arms, good god, they looked like she could crack walnuts with them.  

Realising she was probably giving this crop-topped stranger a pretty thorough undressing, Lardo took a step back and extended a hand.

"Larissa. Call me Lardo. Sup."

The literal Amazon of woman took her hand and shook it firmly.

"I’m Camilla," she said, smiling, cheeks delicately blushed in a way that set off her sweetly quirked lips. "Are you ready for some pong?"

Whats pong, Larissa thought, staring at her lips.

"Oh... Yeah this is going to be s'wasome," Lardo said, quickly regaining her senses.

There was no way she could lose this for them, Larissa thought resolutely. She needed to impress this literal goddess.

~~~

Ransom almost seemed to be crying.

"It was so beautiful... But I feel so devastated? So many emotions man," He slurred as he leaned on the broad shoulder of his blonde wingman. They both looked worse for wear after having drunk nearly every drink so far in what was shaping up to be a increasingly unbelievable pong game.

Camilla lined up her next-to-last shot at the remaining cup and grinned wickedly at the two boys. "Better get ready. This one’s going in. I call it."

There was no way she could miss this one. The tiny Asian girl beside her had sunk nearly every shot that night. If Camilla hadn't been buzzed, she would have knelt at her feet and declared her the pong god. Or maybe she still would. The night was still young.

"You got this," Lardo said encouragingly beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "One last cup."

And Camilla did have it.

Or she had, until Lardo's warm hand had rested on her so gently.

Her ball bounced weakly off Adam's chest and onto the table.

"Ohhhh," Holster said, a light in his eyes. "We aren't done yet, Ransy. You gotta rally for me. Get your second wind bro! Brothers for brothers! This is our shot!"

Lardo snorted. "You still have FIVE cups left. We have one. No way."

Holster lined up his shot and said in a fake hurt voice, "We'll see about that" and the shot landed squarely in their middle cup.

Ransom and Holster both shouted, whooping it up and drunkenly performing a sloppy, involved, handshake.

"Psh. Alright," Lardo said cockily to the two boys. "Ball's in my court."

The two boys quieted down as Lardo squinted at the table before them

Lardo shot Camilla a confident grin before grabbing their sunk cup. "Watch this."

It was a moment that Adam would wax poetic about for the next three years. It was the moment Camilla fell into something with this short, loud, wild girl.

Everyone watched as Lardo grabbed the tiny white ball from the cup and raised the beer to her lips. Camilla could see the sweat running in lines down her olive tanned arm in the heated room. She followed its trail to the crook of her elbow where it glistened before dripping down. Lardo tipped the cup back and chugged the entire thing in one go. Tossing the cup behind her, she stepped away from the table, raised the pong ball, cocked her elbow, and spun around.

Over her shoulder, the ball sailed through the air.

It was like watching liquid honey for Camilla, but she turned to stare openly at Lardo instead.

She couldn't believe it.

She didn't even see when the ball landed squarely in the last cup and everyone watching erupted into screams.

Ransom and Holster at the other end were losing their minds. Absolutely just yelling at the top of their lungs and staring at each other with ecstatic looks.

Then Lardo walked over, grabbed the cup, drank it too and released the loudest, longest, rankest burp into both of their faces.

Both of the boys looked stunned.

Then Ransom solemnly grabbed her hand and did a complicated shake.

"Respect" the man choked out, full of emotion, pulling her into the bro-y-est of hugs.

Holster looked like he was crying now.

Camilla could make out "... j'st so happy..." Before he bawled and joined the group hug.

Well. Camilla thought. Who knew. Hockey players are big AND emotional.

~~~

A little while later when the party dies down a bit Camilla and Larissa find themselves outside on the porch.

It feels so easy to talk together. Maybe it's the tub juice, or the high from the most immaculate pong game in history, but Lardo knows there is nothing that could ruin the night now. She already has had the time of her life. Everything else is just frosting on the metaphysical cake.

Camilla shifts on the warm wooden stairs and moves her arms back to prop herself up on them. Her soft yellow curls tumble back over her shoulders with the movement and she stretches her legs out in front of her.

"So what exactly is a girl like you doing in a house of jocks?" she asks, mouth quirking again. "Not that you don't seem the type, you're just so... well-read."

Lardo laughs, and also stretches her legs out in front of her, positively bathing in the soft, warm, late night air.

"It all started with my roommate actually," she says, chuckling at the memory. "I really needed to get out of the house, you know? And Samwell men's hockey needed a trainee manager and I had those nights free. It felt like fate, kinda."

Lardo lets herself swim in Camilla's soft brown eyes for a second. "Like it was meant to be," she finished.

Camilla just looks back at her. And keeps looking back at her.

Finally she speaks into the moment, all shining eyes, all bright smile.

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

And all of inevitable, they kiss.

Lardo pushes herself closer to the taller woman and slides her gently back to against the railing before deepening the kiss.

As the two break away to breathe for a second, Camilla moves her hand up to cup Lardo's face. "Huh..." she murmurs faintly before Larissa moves in again.

It’s deeper this time, and Larissa lifts her hand up to curl in Camilla's golden, perfect locks. There's something in her that just wants to mess them up a bit. Let people know she's been there. Leave a little mark.

Camilla groans and arches her head back as Larissa tugs on the mass of curls she has threaded through her fingers.

Lardo takes this as a sign to immediately start attacking the blonde's neck and pulse point, leaving quarter sized bruises like a string of pearls down the column of pale skin.

Camilla groans again.

"People will –" she sighs into a particularly hard nip of Lardo's teeth. "People are going to see"

"Let them," Larissa gravels out, kissing back up the bruises to recapture her mouth.

And they stay like that for god knows how long.

A loud pop from the back yard and a series of whoops and yips finally breaks apart the pair and a second later a firework blooms across the sky above the house.

Lardo and Camilla watch it fade out, both panting slightly, before Camilla turns back and rests her forehead gently against Lardo's.

"I just," she murmurs, looking at Lardo's bruised lips. "Have never met anyone like you"

Lardo smiles and traces the curve of her jaw with her thumb. "I'm pretty unique."

"This might be taking it too fast," Camilla says, switching her heated gaze from Lardo's mouth to her eyes. "But I live not too far away from here. A couple of blocks. We could walk if you... ?" She quirks up the side of her mouth again, eyes dancing, leaving the sentence in an open question.

Lardo stares at her in something like adoration for a second before kissing her hard and deep one last time.

"Fuck yeah," she whispers onto the thoroughly abused lips, nipping softly with her teeth. "I’m definitely down."

And no one sees them leave the party. If anyone sees them on the sidewalk they don't care enough to comment. No one sees them pushed up against Camilla’s front door before making it inside.

Only the Samwell geese and a few other bleary Wellies see Lardo walking home the next morning, grin the size of a lighthouse and a certain string of digits in her phone.

And if Larissa Duan, on top of the world, decides to fist pump like in breakfast club? Well, she's sure no one sees that either.

Just the geese and the soft morning sun.

Written by @beercheesecasserole for @disneyinnocent-blog for the 2019 Bitty's Valentine's.

[purrincesscatitude]

angst 14

Why did I write this in present tense?? Good question. 

This probably turned too sweet for angst but whatever it happened I’m not overthinking it.

Prompt from this list. Yes, if you like this, you can still send me things! 

######################

Adam comes to the Barns after school, because he doesn’t have work for once in his life but does have a ton of calculus homework and a whole act of Hamlet to read & summarize scene-by-scene and college app deadlines looming like a swollen thunderhead. The Barns isn’t normally his most productive workspace, but it is warm and has more space for him to stretch out all his papers and textbooks, which feels like a thing he needs to do with the way everything is tangled in his head right now.

He’s been in a mood all day, can feel it festering just beneath his skin. He’s evolved over the months, now able to identify and acknowledge his bad days before they surprise him and his victim by shooting barbs from his tongue and condemnations he can’t take back. But knowing that he’s in a shit mood isn’t the same as controlling it. Growth is, as always, a slow and arduous process.

This evening, he sits at the dining room table under the kitchen’s yellow fluorescents. It’s only 6, but it’s already dark outside. Autumn winds rush over the mountains and rip through the valley, a harsh reminder that winter is only a month away.

Adam has a headache. Not a bad one, but enough that it bugs him, makes it that much harder to focus on equations and soliloquies and why he’s worthy of an Ivy-League education. Spreading the papers out hasn’t helped organized his brain like he wanted it to. Instead it just makes him more stressed, seeing all the work he has to do, all the expectations, all the time and money and thinking he needed in order to get through it all.

And then Ronan comes in.

Ronan understands why Adam does work here, encourages it, even. But that doesn’t mean Ronan finds it fair that Adam comes into his home only to completely ignore him. Some days he’s fine with it. Other days he goes and sulks elsewhere until Adam comes to him.

Today, however, Ronan wants Adam to be here and present. Wants to talk to him. Wants to sit with him, be with him, wants Adam’s undivided attention.

Currently, Adam’s cheating on him with a calculus textbook. And really? Calculus? He’d rather Adam shove his tongue down Skov’s throat.

He sits down at the table with him. Adam ignores him. Not unusual; they do this all the time. Homework-Mode Adam is a one-track mind, set to finishing whatever worksheet or essay or chapter he was working through and loath to be pushed off-course.  

Sometimes, though, Ronan likes to toe the line. Because Adam’s line, in his opinion, needs to be more fucking flexible.

Ronan starts small. Just to see where Adam’s line is today. He picks up a page of notes. Adam, scribbling through an equation, doesn’t react. Ronan scoff, drops it back on the table. Still nothing. He picks up more papers, reads them through with feigned interest and then lets them flutter back down to the table.

Adam is intentionally ignoring him now. Ronan can tell the difference.

He starts trying to build a card tower out of looseleaf papers. It’s going about as well as expected, and making plenty of noise. Opal, ever drawn to the sound of rustling, edible paper, clambers into the kitchen.

“Don’t, brat,” Ronan warns. Opal hisses at him. He rips a blank page from a notebook, crumples it into a ball, and throws it back out the door. Opal chases after it with a screech.

Adam winces. “Cut it out, Lynch.”

But he still hasn’t taken his eyes off his book, and Ronan still feels like a third wheel in his own home.

He starts drumming. Not any particular song, just a series of beats using a discarded pencil and his index finger. Adam tightens his grip on his pencil, glares at the problem sets.

“Lynch,” he grumbles. It’s a warning.

“Parrish,” Ronan replies. It’s a challenge.

Adam grinds his teeth, presses his pencil hard enough into the paper to leave imprints on the pages below it.

Ronan adds his foot to the rhythm.  

“Stop,” Adam demands, finally rips his eyes away from the page to shoot him a signature Adam Parrish witheringly frigid glare.

Ronan raises his hands in mock surrender. Adam returns to his work.

Ronan drums harder.

“Ronan.”

“Sorry, sorry. Just feeling the beat, you know?”

“There are ten other rooms in this house where you could go right now.”

“It’s my fucking house, so I’m going to stay in whatever fucking room I want.”

Adam rolls his eyes. Ronan is pretty sure he’s walking the line like a tightrope right now, and it’s dangerously close to snapping.

He lets Adam go back to work. Manages his energy quietly. Tries to not get jealous of a goddamn textbook.

He resolve lasts maybe five minutes.

He starts drumming again. On his leg. And then his leg starts jittering, and then his foot starts tapping.

And then he hits a beat too hard, slams his knee into the table, which makes Adam’s hand jolt, and the pencil catches in the paper and rips a hole in his problem sets.

“Ronan what the fuck,” he shouts, throwing his pencil on the table.

“Whoops,” Ronan says.

Adam rips the page from his notebook.

“Dude, chill. Just tape it, they won’t give a fuck.”

“That’s not the point. You’re being an asshole.”

“I’m not the one eye-fucking a damn textbook in someone else’s house.”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“Just keep doing your damn homework, whatever,” Ronan says.

“Are you going to stop being an asshole?” Adam spits back.

“Does keeping you company mean I’m asshole? Then yes, I’ll gladly fuck the fuck off and let you keep nerding alone.”

“Bullshit, you’re not keeping me company. You’re being selfish and immature and it’s fucking obnoxious.”

“Fine. I’ll fucking stop. Jesus,” Ronan growls.  

“You say you’ll stop but then you keep doing it! Making noise and hitting the table and, just, being a fucking brat.”

“What do you want me to say, Parrish?” Ronan snarls, throwing himself out of his chair and storming towards the door.

“Nothing! You don’t need to say a goddamn thing!” Adam snaps. “Just stop.”

They stand apart: Ronan curling and uncurling his fists by the door, Adam digging his nails into the peeling cover of his calculus textbook. A war of wills.

Adam breaks the glare first. It isn’t a surrender. He shoves his schoolwork into his bag.

“I’m going home,” he announces.

Ronan scoffs. “Do whatever the fuck you want.”

Adam clenches his jaw. He leaves.

He bikes back to St. Agnes in the dark, pedaling hard as the frigid November air cuts his cheeks and turns his fingers white as bone. Running his trembling hands under hot water doesn’t do much, only heightens the pins & needles pricking under his skin. He flexes his fingers over and over as he settles at his desk. He starts rewriting his calc problems. It takes him an hour to finish, when it should have been thirty minutes. Valuable time sucked down the drain. He resists the urge to throw something. 

The wind rattles the window, howls through the gaps in its ill-fitted frame. Someone is practicing the organ. They’re not very good. The low notes send vibrations through the floor. It’s almost as annoying as Ronan. Almost.

But it’s a different kind of annoying. It’s cold, and distant. Turns him inward, makes him glare and grumble and bite his nails. The sort that can’t be remedied, that can only gnaw and curdle until he accepts the inevitability of constant suffering.

Ronan’s sort of annoying is infuriating, makes his blood boil, fills him with a sort of fire that can only go outward, that demands he confront it head on, in an almost cathartic kind of way. It makes them bicker and argue and shout at each other.

But it’s familiar. And sort of warm, in a weird way. In that it’s almost comforting in how he can expect it, how Ronan always seems to know the exact right buttons to press to set him off even if he doesn’t mean to.

A Ronan Lynch who isn’t annoying as hell isn’t the Ronan Lynch Adam learned to tolerate, and then like, and then like like; isn’t the Ronan Lynch Adam will probably decide he loves; isn’t the Ronan Lynch who can piss Adam off one second and have him laughing with side stitches the next; isn’t the Ronan Lynch who’s impulsiveness and brashness and pigheadedness can be as frustrating as it is liberating and joyful and wild and adventurous.

It isn’t the Ronan Lynch that Adam wants.

The apartment vibrates with a horrifically discordant note. Adam digs his nails into his scalp. Scrubs his hair into a ferocious mess.

The old walls creak. The organ resumes, quieter and in a higher register.

It’s been a long time since he was at St. Agnes alone. Truly alone. He’d sequestered himself here before, told Ronan he needed time to study, needed to finish a paper, needed to focus without distraction. But there was always a hope that Ronan would stop by for half an hour– perfectly timed when Adam was at his most exhausted or frustrated, a study break calculated, Adam guessed, by the months he had spent with him in the latest and earliest hours watching him study–with food in hand and a smirk on his face that Adam would spent 20 minutes kissing off and replacing with a very different sort of grin.

There isn’t that hope tonight, which…fucking sucks, if he’s being honest. Just one more load to weigh on his shoulders.

Adam’s stressed about school, about all the essays he needs to write and the tests he has coming up, and the fact that grades are due soon and he’s sure he’s doing fine but there’s always a chance that someone’s parents are going to buy their slacker son a 4.0 and kick Adam down to Salutatorian. He’s stressed about the SAT Subject Tests he needs in order to apply for the schools he wants, not just the studying and the psychological prep work necessary to outsmart the test in the way it wants you to, but the money it’ll cost him and the weekends he’ll lose taking them means he has to stack hours at Boyd’s and the warehouse and the factory now, and even then he doesn’t know if he’ll have enough money for food after he pays for the tests. He’s stressed about having to take all these shifts to pay for the tests and the college applications, because even though he got a waiver for a few of them (it was Gansey’s idea, one that made Adam absolutely furious. The way he coincidentally mentioned it at lunch the day following Adam venting to Ronan about their discriminating pricing and Ronan ranting about how “it’s the fucking system, man. Rigged bullshit, is all it is.” And don’t even get him started on the humiliating conversation with the Aglionby college counselor that followed) he still has to pay for the supplements for a few of them because Ivies are nothing if not completely ignorant to the concerns of people making below a yearly income of 200k.

Oh, and he’s not sleeping well. None of them are, he guesses, from the bags under their eyes when they gather around the table at Nino’s. It’s only been 55 days since…all that. And when Adam can find a few spare hours untouched by work and admission essays and calculus problems and Hamlet reading notes, he shuts his eyes and finds himself choking the life out of Ronan again, or seeing Aurora’s mangled corpse in a field of rotting trees, or watching Gansey fall lifeless into Blue’s arms again and again and again…

Shit.

This is his fault, isn’t it?

He wasn’t pissed at Ronan. He was pissed about everything else and Ronan just happened to be the target in front of him when he burst. And then he’d upped and stormed off like the biggest asshole in the world.

Adam was the problem right now. Adam was the shitty one.

If that didn’t make him feel so damn guilty, he’d relish this personal growth and newfound introspection.

Instead, he was lonely and annoyed. And regretful. And cold. And these calc problems were damn near impossible. And that stupid amatuer organist was so bad did they really think this hobby was worth continuing? And…

Oh, fuck it.

Adam grabs his sweater and barely remembers to lock the door. He bikes, fast and hard, ignoring the bitter wind as it makes his eyes water and nose burn. He almost eats dirt on the side of the road when he rounds a corner too fast, but he keeps going.

The wind is still howling when he drops his bike in the gravel driveway of the Barns and bangs on the door. It take him a minute, but Ronan eventually answers.

“Parrish?” he says, pushing open the screen door.

“I’m stressed about my SAT scores,” Adam blurts out, shoulders hunched and hands squeezed in the armpits of his sweater against the whipping winds. “And about needing to take these stupid subject tests. And about picking up all these extra shifts just to pay for them, and I need to get all these college apps in soon, but I have no idea what to write about for any of these stupid essays without making myself sound pathetic or pitiful and melodramatic. And I can’t sleep anymore, after what happened with…everything. I feel like I’m running on empty all the time, which, by the way,  my car is since I’m spending all of my money to take these dumb tests and buy transcripts, and did you know that teachers who write you recommendations expect a gift? Like what bullshit is that? So now I have to get these, too. And it’s just so much, Ronan. All the fucking time. And, shit, your mother fucking died in front of you. Like, my shit is so…stupid compared to what you’re dealing with and yet I’m the one being an asshole and taking my shit out on you and I’m just…” Adam breathes. And freezes.

Ronan had led him inside. Sat him on the couch. Draped a blanket around his shoulders. And Adam hadn’t realized.

Ronan sits on the coffee table, chewing his leather bands and avoiding Adam’s gaze. Their legs fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Ditto,” Ronan says around the leather. “‘Cept not the school shit. Obviously.”

He drops his wrist, leans his elbows on his knees and runs his fingers in circles along the faded denim stretched across Adam’s knee. “I just. Today was rough. I wanted…I needed someone else. Something to focus on, other than…”

He can’t finish. Adam doesn’t need him to.

Adam sighs with relief. “I’m sorry,” he says. It feels weird to say. Weird but good. Another step forward.

“Me too,” Ronan echoes.

They sit close, legs fitting together like puzzle pieces.

“Okay, seriously though,” Ronan says suddenly. “Don’t bike at night again. You never know what sort of assholes are going to take those corners too sharp and flatten your ass into a pancake.”

“If the asshole in question is waiting for me at his house, then it shouldn’t be an issue,” Adam replies with a smirk.

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Just fucking call next time, loser.”

“Good to know you’ll still chauffeur even if we’re fighting.”

Ronan snorts. “That was barely a fight. You want to fight, I’ll show you a fucking fight.”

“Oh yeah?”

Ronan tackles him into the couch. Adam cries out with laughter.

This wasn’t their last fight. There would be more disagreements, more spats, more storming off and misunderstandings and cursing and regretted words. But they’d be okay. They would always be okay.

[dunkjrk]

oblivious i

pairing: don x y/n

word count: 1.5k (part one is v short yikes)

warnings: slaughterhouse spoilers, cursing, sex references and mentions of suicide

a/n: hI hELLO uHHh heres my attempt at writing for don bc wHATTA BEAN,, i hope i did his character justice!! if anyone’s read hades! michael you might recognize he recycled description of finn bc i can’t write descriptions for sHiT whoopS anyway,,, this’ll probably be up long after it’s been out but the spoiler warning still stands :)) also for anyone who doesn’t know what upper sixth is it’s the equivalent of a senior x

When the clicking of Mrs Wallace’s heels had drowned out, y/n was quick to jolt out of Don’s bed, clearing her throat.“Right, um I should probably get going too.” She mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the skirt hanging from her hips, and ignoring the heat rising on her cheeks under his intense gaze.“No!” He said, his voice raised slightly in protest as it cracked slightly due to his sudden shout, startling her and stopping her right in her tracks. “I mean, uh you should stay! Yeah you should stay, I’ll need someone to show me how to get to the main hall anyway.” He continued, trailing off with a sheepish grin.Y/n briefly glanced up at him, barely making eye contact before averting her gaze anywhere else but his. The faintest of smirks shadowed his lips at her actions, feeling a strong endearment towards the girl pretending to be oblivious to his stare by playing with the hem of her skirt. “I mean, that’s what I’m here for but don’t worry, I think she fancies you too.” Will interrupted with a wink. A knowing smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

or

y/n has a small crush on the new boy 

She spotted him before he spotted her.

It was safe to say Y/n’s first meeting with Don didn’t go as smoothly as she would’ve hoped, and much to her dismay (and her best friend’s delight), Will relentlessly teases her about it.

Y/n knew full well she wasn’t supposed to be in the boys’ half of the dorms, let alone comfortably spread out in a deep sleep on the spare bed in Will’s room. It had never crossed her mind that the new term would most likely bring someone new in the use it, hence why she was woken up with a rough jab to her side, with a harsh whisper of ‘are you dead or something, fuckin’ wake up!’

Four sets of eyes watched her jolt from the bed, barely escaping slipping off the edge as she did. In her typical fashion, y/n had no only messed up again, but messed up on her first day back of school. A new record. Y/n had told her mum that this year she was going to put her head down and focus in school and starting sixth form seemed like the best time to put this into practice, but given the current circumstances, y/n couldn’t help but wonder how she’d convince her mum to overlook her being caught sleeping in a boys dorm.

“Miss y/n,” Mr Houseman sighed, a look the read ‘fed up but not surprised’ etched into his features as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you care to explain what your duty is in Mr Wallace’s bed?” The older man enquired, leaning against the door- conveniently covering Seymour’s name plaque placed next to Will’s. Sneaky bastard. Being Will’s best friend, y/n was his shoulder to cry when Seymour killed himself, and so naturally she was aware of the situation. Mr Houseman’s snarl of ‘I thought I told you to take that down’ didn’t go unnoticed by y/n, though she was too preoccupied with staring at the boy next to him to even bother to see Will’s reaction.

The boy’s face was unfamiliar, and had it not been for Will’s obnoxious cough she would have been able to analyze him to her heart's content, but the expectant look he sent her way made her swallow her inhibitions and clear her throat.

“Uh, sleeping?”

An eye roll and a quick snatch of the ‘Seymour’ plaque off of the door was the only form of a reply he graced her with before leaving the room, the clicking of his shoes fading down the hallway being the only sound that prevented the atmosphere slipping into an awkward silence.

“So, are you Don’s roommates?” A voice spoke up, presumably his mother. She wore an inviting smile, the type y/n couldn’t help but feel comfortable around. It vaguely crossed her mind as to whether her son had the same smile. His features were striking enough, something she’d been able to gather from the few moments she’d stolen a glance at him. The boy that stood before her was clad in the charcoal grey uniform she knew all too well, topped off with a yellow tie highlighting his forest orbs. ‘House Sparta’. The ash brown waves of locks on his head lay perfectly in place, apart from the single strand of stray hair that caressed his right cheekbone. He had a somewhat diamond shaped face, with defined and sturdy features; and of course a jawline sharp enough to cut the tension growing in the room.

Fortunately for her, Will’s quick reactions saved her from her potential future mother in law judging her (y/n was quite the hopeless romantic).

“Yeah, uh yes Mrs Wallace. I’m Willoughby Blake, I’ll be your son’s roommate for the rest of the year.”

Don’s eyes flitted to the girl, now sitting up but still snuggled up in what he assumed were his sheets. From Mr Houseman’s comment, he inferred she was y/n. A smile worked its way onto his face at the idea of the girl currently doing everything in her power to avoid his gaze being his roommate, it even eased the idea of being stuck in an unfamiliar school full of prestige middle class children for the next two years, and if anything Don could even say he wouldn’t mind it if he could be around the doe eyed girl for the duration of his sixth form experience.  

“Lovely to meet you Willoughby. Uh, I should get going then. Be good, you, and I’ll see you at the end of the term.” She told her son, pecking him quickly on the cheek and sending a friendly smile in Will’s and y/n’s directions before making her way down the hallway, leaving a growing silence to fall over the three teens.

When the clicking of Mrs Wallace’s heels had drowned out, y/n was quick to jolt out of Don’s bed, clearing her throat.

“Right, um I should probably get going too.” She mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the skirt hanging from her hips, and ignoring the heat rising on her cheeks under his intense gaze.

“No!” He said, his voice raised slightly in protest as it cracked slightly due to his sudden shout, startling her and stopping her right in her tracks. “I mean, uh you should stay! Yeah you should stay, I’ll need someone to show me how to get to the main hall anyway.” He continued, trailing off with a sheepish grin.

Y/n briefly glanced up at him, barely making eye contact before averting her eyes anywhere else but his. The faintest of smirks shadowed his lips at her actions, feeling a strong endearment towards the girl pretending to be oblivious to his stare by playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I mean, that’s what I’m here for but don’t worry, I think she fancies you too.” Will interrupted with a wink. A knowing smirk playing on his lips as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

Will was very blunt. For y/n, it was either a blessing or a curse. There were times when she was very thankful for his quick tongue, such as a instance in year ten when y/n had ran into a year eleven in a clumsy rush to get to sixth period. Unfortunately for her, it was Clemsie Lawrence and her clique, the single most loved student in the school. Fortunately for her, her best friend was Willoughby Blake, the single most outspoken student in the school. It was a genuine mistake, y/n and Will had three minutes to get to Latin because he had insisted on stopping to eat a cookie, and now the pair were essentially legging it down the ancient corridors in hopes of getting to class on time. Their hopes were cut short however as they turned a corner, and y/n slammed straight into the blonde year eleven. Various sneers of ‘Watch where you’re fucking going’ echoed through the nearly empty corridor as the younger of the students attempted to mumble a spew of apologies. Apologies that seemed to fall on deaf ears however, which was to be expected really, seeing as year elevens considered themselves to be superior to the rest of the school- especially when they're Clemsie Lawrence or one of her associates. “I uh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking and-” “No y/n it wasn’t your fault.” Will spoke up, a faint grin of reassurance being sent her way before he averted his gaze to the group of girls watching with disgust. “If anyone here should be apologizing it should be you.” Y/n was quick to tug at his sleeve when he was met with blank stares and even a few giggles. She knew as soon as one of Clemsie’s friends opened her mouth they were in for it. “You know, when I was in year ten, I wouldn’t dare to speak to a year eleven, let alone like that. Before your girlfriend nearly ran us over and you decided to get brave, I didn’t mind year tens, looks like you fucked it up for your whole year.” Y/n gulped. Even if Clemsie hadn’t actually spoken herself yet, it was clear from the way she was staring down at her, she had definitely landed herself in the school sweetheart’s bad books. Though that being said, he seemed unphased, and without missing a beat Will replied. “Funny you say that, because I was pro life before this run in, but you, too are making me questions my beliefs.” He sighed, feigning disappointment whilst turning away and gripping the shorter girl’s hand who was now biting back a smile. “Oh, and,” He continued, pausing his walk and turning to the group with a sickeningly sweet smile. “ I’m gay.” Ever since that literal run in, y/n was right to assume she and Clemsie hadn’t been on the best of terms.

Their faces fell at his comment. Don looked pale, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen a ghost. Y/n looked on the verge of tears as she watched Will laugh with frantic eyes.

“Calm down, bloody hell you two I’m joking! I’m gay, what do I know about straight messes.” He snickered, patting Don on the back before heading out.

Y/n cleared her throat, hastily heading for the door, “I uh, we should probably go.” She barely even whispered, practically running down the dorms corridor after Will, leaving Don to fend for himself as he watched with a fond smile. For a gay boy, Will truly was spot on about this straight mess.

[quickeningheart]

One

     When the trio rumbled up to the Last Chance Garage, they were greeted with the sight of Charley setting a box on the curb, just beside a pile of other boxes. "Hey, Sweetheart! Didja miss me?" Vinnie called with a cheeky grin.

     Charley snorted. "Oh, sure. It's been a whole twelve hours since I saw you. I've been pining away for your obnoxious self ever since," she retorted, brushing off her hands.

     "Ouch, babe. That cuts deep." Vinnie dramatically pressed a hand to his heart, shaking his head sadly. Charley's lips twitched as she rolled her eyes and turned to stalk back into the garage.

     "Doin' a little housekeeping, Charley-girl?" Throttle dubiously eyed the teetering stack of boxes over his field specs.

     "As a matter of fact, I'm cleaning out all the junk stored in the spare room. You guys are just in time to help," she replied sweetly.

     Vinnie didn't even try to hide his dismayed groan, and was rewarded with a smack across the back of his head, courtesy of Modo's metal hand. He yelped and glared, rubbing his skull as he followed the big gray mouse into the garage and up to Charley's apartment.

     "We'll be glad to help, Charley Ma'am," Modo rumbled. "But why the sudden clear-out?"

     "I'm expecting company." Charley riffled through a shoebox, wrote something on the lid with a black Sharpie, and stacked it in a corner with a few other boxes. "She'll need a place to crash, and this is the only spare room I've got."

     The mice glanced at each other. "This the part where you tell us to get lost for awhile until the coast is clear?" Throttle asked.

     Charley glanced at him, surprised. "Of course not! This place is practically your home, too. I wouldn't kick you out just like that," she scolded. "Besides, she'll be staying for awhile."

     "So … you'll be telling your friend about us?" The trio glanced at each other. They weren't entirely keen on the idea of yet another human knowing of their existence. Too many knew of them already in that particular area of Chicago, no thanks to Limburger. The people they'd saved kept their mouths shut about hairy alien riders protecting the slum streets of the city, and they'd managed to remain fairly inconspicuous so far, but their luck wouldn't hold out forever.

     "Relax, fellas." Charley rested her crossed arms on the pile of larger boxes stacked on the floor, regarding them with a whimsical smile. "No need to get your tails in a knot. Alley's my cousin. She's moving out here from Florida to attend college. I offered her a place to stay to help save on living costs. Why pay even more money for boarding when I've got a perfectly good room going to waste?"

     The trio relaxed. Any family member of Charley's automatically made her an extended member of their own. "You think she'll like us?" Vinnie asked, always anxious to make a good impression. Or any impression, really, good or otherwise.

     Charley pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I'll definitely have to warn her about you three before you actually meet each other," she replied slowly. "Honestly, I have no idea how she'll react. I haven't actually seen her face-to-face for almost ten years."

     "Why so long?" Modo looked troubled; probably thinking of his own family, whom he hadn't seen in a long while, either. "Don't seem right, not seein' your family for so long."

     Especially since you're all on the same planet was left unspoken, but Charley understood, and she offered him a sympathetic smile. "Can't be helped. I moved out here to Chi-town, and not too long after that, her parents relocated to Florida so her dad could start his own garage. Our dads are brothers, and they shared the family business, but…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

     "Something happened?" Throttle asked gently. Charley didn't often talk about her family, and they never pressed the issue, although they were curious about what her life had been like before Chicago. They knew bits and pieces, minor things she'd shared over the years, but they understood all too well that some things just couldn't be spoken of. They all had skeletons in their closets, as the human saying went.

     Charley ran a hand through her mussed hair. "They had … differences of opinion on how the place should be run," she replied slowly.

     "Ah. A family falling-out?"

     She sighed. "Something like that. My dad and uncle … they're both pretty strong-willed. And they both had their own ideas on how to make the garage successful. It … got pretty nasty toward the end, before they decided it was best to just sort of go their own ways. Alley's mom got sick, not too long after that. A pretty strong infection in the lungs, I think. The doctors recommended she be moved to warmer climates, so in order to save the family, and Aunt Viv, they decided it was best to move south. Uncle Chuck found a garage that was in danger of going under, bought it out, and completely turned it around. It's a pretty successful bodywork and detailing shop now. I think some of the cars he repainted even appeared in magazines. He specializes in the antiques and classics."

     "What about your aunt?" Vinnie asked. "She get any better?"

     Charley smiled. "Yeah, the infection cleared up within a few months. Last I heard, she's co-manager of a popular cafe. Let me tell you, the woman can bake. Her cakes and pastries are to die for." She sighed wistfully. "I haven't had one of her homemade whoopie pies in … forever."

     "And the brothers?" Modo asked quietly. "They still on the outs?"

     "No." She flashed him a small grin. "Since they don't actually have to work together or see each other every day, they get along pretty well. They take turns visiting over holidays, but they're all so busy, it doesn't happen a lot. Oh, my mom said they were kinda stubborn, giving each other the silent treatment and all that. Neither one of 'em wanted to apologize first, but Mom and Viv can be pretty persuasive when their men are bein' stupid." She chuckled. "The family is fine now. Don't worry, fellas."

     "So how come you don't go see 'em?" Vinnie asked. "You haven't left this city since we've known you!"

     "Oh, I haven't left it way before that," she snorted. "In case you lunkheads haven't noticed, I've pretty much got my hands full, runnin' the Last Chance. Throw in everything that's been happening with Limburger, and, well…" She shrugged. "It ain't like I never talk to them or anything! There's email, and we call each other on occasion. Alley writes me actual letters, too. Says traditional letter writing is becoming a lost art form. Sometimes I even write back, though I'm not quite as eloquent about it." She chuckled. "Anyway, when she told me she'd decided to attend college in Chicago, and asked if she could stop to visit, I offered her the guest room to live in, and here we are."

     "So when's she arrivin'?" Modo asked.

     "She's on her way as we speak, actually. But she's driving cross-country, so it'll take her a few days to get to Illinois. She thinks she'll be here by Saturday. So do me a favor and hide out at the scoreboard over the weekend, 'til I get her settled in and have a chance to talk to her."

     "Will do, Charley-girl."

     "Thanks, guys." Charley hefted a box and plopped it into Vinnie's arms. "In the meantime, there's plenty of stuff to shift around. How about you three work on clearing out this room? I've already marked where everything needs to go, either the hall closet or the curb for trash pickup."

     "And what will you be doing while we're up here doing the manual labor?" Vinnie grumbled as Charley descended staircase into the garage.

     "What else? Earning a living by fixing busted engines! This place doesn't run itself, ya know!"

     ~*~*~*~*~

     Saturday rolled around, and Charley spent most of it working on a sleek black Mustang that had met the wrong end of a truck, due to the careless driving of the Mustang's owner, who had miraculously walked away mostly unscathed. The car hadn't been so lucky.

     She'd already managed to put the mangled insides of the Mustang back together, which had felt more like assembling a jigsaw puzzle than a car. It had taken her nearly two weeks to finish, but finally she was done. When she turned the ignition key, she couldn't hold back the triumphant whoop when the engine turned over and started purring like a contented cat. She might complain about her job, but nothing beat the heady rush of pride and satisfaction she always felt over a job spectacularly done.

     Well, for the most part. The engine was finished, but now she needed to put the mangled body back together and then have it towed to a detail shop across town for a new paint job. She'd have to enlist the guys' help for the heavy lifting, but at least all the parts she'd ordered had come in. Their boxes were currently piled carefully against the wall, waiting to be unpacked. She'd start on that tomorrow.

     The purr of an approaching engine caught her attention. Well, it wasn't a purr so much as a sick-sounding rumble. Somebody seemed to be having car trouble. She glanced at the clock on the wall over the service desk. It was nine forty-five, long past closing-time. And long past due for her cousin to show up. She frowned and rose from her seat, stretching the kinks out of her back as she walked to the door. Then she stood and stared with her mouth slightly agape as a huge green, pink, and yellow flowered … monstrosity of a classic Volkswagen Bus pulled up, coughing and grinding to a halt. There was a sputter, as of the beast giving up its last, wheezing breath; a hiss of smoke and steam rose from its backside, and then the front door opened and a young woman climbed awkwardly out of the driver's seat, hopping to the ground with a triumphant "Made it!"

     Charley blinked in astonishment at the blond-haired woman, who was nearly as colorful as her ride with her mid-length hair liberally streaked in rainbow hues, and a flowing white peasant top and stonewashed jeans embroidered with flowers and butterflies. "A-Alley Cat?" she stammered.

     The girl grinned. "Well, look at you! Aren't you the regular grease monkey," she teased, eyeballing Charley's filthy coveralls.

     Charley relaxed and grinned back. "I almost didn't recognize you for a moment. Boy, you sure grew up, huh?" Alley stood almost as tall as she did, and in no way resembled the little grass-stained tomboy who had followed her everywhere and constantly tackled her into wrestling matches when they were growing up.

     "You sure you didn't just shrink?" Alley shot back, and Charley snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. "I see your smart mouth didn't change, though."

     "Never! It's my most attractive feature."

     "C'mere, you." Before Alley could protest, Charley pulled her into a brief hug, careful not to get grease on the younger woman's clothes. "It's so good to see you! How're things in Florida? How're Chuck and Viv doing?"

     "Florida is … Florida. Hot. Sticky. Lots of old people driving around who really shouldn't be allowed to. My parents are great, though. Dad's shop is as popular as ever. You know, he refinished a Rolls Royce for some celebrity or something, and got invited to this swanky party as a thank you. He took Mom with him. They were rubbing elbows with all these movies stars and such. Mom loved it. She can't stop bragging about how she got to meet Johnny Depp," Alley laughed. "Dad's pretty pleased with himself. Mom hasn't nagged him for anything for the past two weeks!" She poked Charley in the arm. "Anyway, what about you? Ya never call, ya never write. Glad I didn't show up to find your decomposing body being eaten by wild dogs or something."

     "Yeah, yeah. I told you, it's been sorta crazy around here for the last few years." Charley chuckled nervously, scratching her arm and wondering when would actually be a good time to tell her cousin about the consistent alien invasion happening right under the government's nose, not to mention her alien house guests. She decided to change the topic for the moment, turning to the smoking bus. "So. From what hellhole did you manage to dig this thing up? You didn't pay actual money for it, did you?"

     "Shhhh! She'll hear you!" Alley lovingly stroked a stylized flower on the bus's door. "Priscilla is very sensitive, you know."

     "Priscilla?" Charley couldn't keep the bark of laughter down.

     "What? It's not like you've never named any of your cars."

     "Well, yeah … but Priscilla?"

     "It's a classic name for a classic lady," Alley sniffed.

     "Just how classic are we talkin' here?" Charley eyed the bus. "Early seventies model?"

     "Late sixties, actually. Sixty-seven, I think? I found it and Dad repainted it for me as my sixteenth birthday present."

     "Uh-huh. And how old are you now?"

     "Just turned twenty!" Alley announced proudly.

     Charley circled the bus, shaking her head. "What happened? When did the trouble start?"

     "It was doing great the first three days, but today I was driving only a few hours and it started acting up. Had to stop a few times to let it cool down. I didn't think I was actually gonna make it today, but we managed to push through. Priscilla is very good like that."

     "You probably should've taken it to an auto shop instead of going on. You might've just killed Priscilla," Charley scolded. "That smoke there? Generally not a good thing to see coming from any engine, especially an antique like this."

     "Uh, hello. I did take it to an auto shop." Alley raised an eyebrow pointedly, and Charley rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean!"

     "Look, classes start soon. I just wanted to get here and get settled so I can prepare for them. Besides, I know you won't try and rip me off and tell me there's more work that needs done on the bus than actually does."

     "I'm not so sure they'd actually be ripping you off," Charley sighed. "Well, I'll take a look at it, but it'll have to wait awhile. I've got my hands full at the moment. In the meantime, grab a couple of suitcases and I'll help carry 'em up. I've got a room ready for you. It's pretty basic, but you can fill it out with what you need. We can unpack the rest of the van tomorrow."

     "Will it be safe, sitting here overnight? This doesn't exactly look like the classier side of town."

     "It isn't, but Priscilla will be safe enough. She's not going anywhere in her condition. Unless you want to help me push her into the garage…?"

     "Right. Tomorrow it is. Can you grab Mercedes from the front seat for me?"

     "And who's Mercedes?" Charley teased as she opened the passenger door. "Your comput-Jiminy Christmas, Ally! What the hell is that?"

     Alley blinked at her cousin, who had jumped back from the bus as if she'd been yanked. "That's Mercedes. I did tell you I'm bringing a pet with me, didn't I?"

     Charley pressed a hand to her heart, releasing a deep breath. "I do seem to recall something about that," she muttered. "But I thought you were talkin' about a goldfish or hamster or something. I wasn't expecting a rat!"

     "Sorry, I didn't realize she'd bother you." Alley opened the door of the carry cage and scooped the cream-and-brown rodent into her hand. "I used to have pet mice and gerbils when I was a kid, and you never minded those. A rat isn't that much different."

     "There are some people who would disagree with that assessment," Charley replied around a dry chuckle. "Just … keep her in your room, okay?"

     "Sure, I wasn't planning on letting her run loose in the building or anything. Want to hold her? She doesn't bite," Alley offered, and added a teasing, "You're not squeamish, are you?" when her cousin hesitated.

     "Don't be silly," Charley snorted as she accepted the squirming bundle of fur, who proceeded to scramble up her arm and crawl across her shoulders. She squeaked and hunched when she felt cold little paws and twitching whiskers tickle the back of her neck, before Alley reached out to pluck Mercedes from her opposite shoulder. "It's just I know some guys who … really don't like rats. Guess I grew a bit biased without even realizing it."

     "Awww, who could not like this adorable little face?" Alley cooed as she leaned in and nuzzled her nose against Mercedes's muzzle. She got a lick in response, and Charley chuckled. "Okay, I admit she's cute. Now come on in and let me show you the place. Hope you don't mind crashing on the couch for a day or two. Still haven't gotten a bed into the spare room yet."

     "Hey, after three nights of cheap roadside motel rooms, I'd be willing to sleep on the floor at this point. It's probably cleaner than any of those beds were."

Next

[littenstinymittens]

Hi :) How about all of them ;) just kidding XD Let's do 0, 15, 26, 38, 39 & 44 :) (unless you do wanna answer all 44 asks, then go ahead, i'm always curious ;))

You know what? WHY NOT 44?0: Height: 5'5/164cm1: Virgin?: Yes2: Shoe size: 83: Do you smoke?: no4: Do you drink?: no5: Do you take drugs?: no6: Age you get mistaken for: Apparently I look like I'm in my early 20's/late teens?7: Have tattoos?: no I'm a wimp8: Want any tattoos?: Yes9: Got any piercings?: I used to have my ears pierced but they're too swollen now10: Want any piercings?: no11: Best friend?: I have 3 lol12: Relationship status: Single, wants to have 10 cats13: Biggest turn ons: green eyes, full lips14: Biggest turn offs: A REALLY SHITTY PERSONALITY15: Favorite movie: Damn this is hard but...Captain America: The Winter Soldier I think16: I’ll love you if: You make me any positive Balinor content LOL17: Someone you miss: My best friend back in Ontario18: Most traumatic experience: Grade 719: A fact about your personality: I'm really obnoxious20: What I hate most about myself: Nearly everything21: What I love most about myself: Sometimes my hair looks really cute so that's fun22: What I want to be when I get older: Something related to art.23: My relationship with my sibling: We get along24: My relationship with my parents: We get along but...it's complicated at times.25: My idea of a perfect date: TAKE ME TO A CAT CAFE AND LET ME INTO THE CAT ROOM WHERE I CAN IGNORE YOU AND PET ALL THE CATS26: My biggest pet peeves: being manipulated, being put down, being ignored, THE SOUND OF CHEWING, being dismissed27: A description of the girl/boy I like: yellow eyes, black fur, lil black nose, perfect toe beans, soft head----OH you meant person whoops.28: A description of the person I dislike the most: shoulder length brown straight hair that curls at the end, blue eyes, chubby, short, constant smug expression, nasty attitude...wow I can still picture her like it was yesterday and not 8 years ago.29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend: I didn't want to hurt them30: What I hate the most about work/school: PEOPLE31: What your last text message says: "Lmaaaaao"32: What words upset me the most: weak, pathetic, useless, stupid33: What words make me feel the best about myself: smart, talented34: What I find attractive in women: Beautiful eyes35: What I find attractive in men: IDK why but I LOVE noses36: Where I would like to live: on that island of cats in Japan. my people need me.37: One of my insecurities: I know I'm annoying and stupid. I fear people leaving me or turning on me. They often do...so I'm insecure about being myself.38: My childhood career choice: Marine Biologist!39: My favorite ice cream flavor: Butterscotch Ripple40: Who wish I could be: Someone successful who isn't a stupid loser41: Where I want to be right now: I would say surrounded by cats but I have MY precious kitty on my lap so...this is good.42: The last thing I ate: Cheetos43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately: I could lie but fucking pity me it was John Lynch as Balinor WHY AM I LIKE THIS.44: A random fact about anything: Well this was a disaster lmao

[anotherimaginescollection]

Imagine driving with top down along the coast with ___Wally (Flash)

There was somethingoddly calming about driving with Wally in the passenger seat. He was goodcompany, singing along to the music obnoxiously, taking terrible photographs,the odd decent one of the scenery passing you by littered through them as well.It was fun, made even better by the fact that you had the sea to your left, thewater gently lapping against the sand, the sounds of families enjoying thesunshine and beach floating to you. The wind was quite literally blowingthrough your hair. None of it meant that it was possible for you to feel bad,every single aspect of it had a kind of calming effect on you that you couldn’tquite place.

‘Sit down,Wallace!’ you said worriedly, reaching your spare hand to try and grab at hisshirt, your attention staying firmly focused on the road.

He gave a whoop,drawing your attention for a moment. His arms were extended beside him, therewas a bright grin lighting his face, and a childish kind of amusement writtenall over his expression. Your gaze quickly flicked back to the road.

‘Come on,’ he said,the lilt of a chuckle behind his words, ‘isn’t this what you were talkingabout?’

‘No!’ you said,shocked by the mild shrillness to your voice. ‘I was talking about singing tooloud, eating rubbish food, slowly making our way to our destination so we couldwatch the sunset.’

Wally made a soundof mild bewilderment before he finally sunk back down, using the windshield tohelp his balance. ‘If you just wanted to see a sunset I could’ve –’

You held up a handto silence him. ‘Nope, we were doing this the old fashioned way,’ you remindedhim, glancing at him quickly. ‘Anyway, you promised to do this with me before you got those powers and becamethe second most popular superhero in the city.’

Wally chuckleddisbelievingly, but his argument was cut off as you rounded another corner. Hemerely let out a long breath of awe.

The sheer rock facearching over you cast a long shadow over the beach and the water, whichshimmered a kind of azure colour almost, clear enough to see the rocksunderneath, the flickers of movement as fish swam through the water. The sandwas a beautiful golden colour, with only the odd bit of seaweed littering it,causing a kind of endearing imperfection in it all. You couldn’t deny that itlooked gorgeous, even in the slip second that you spotted it.

‘There was a stopjust up here,’ said Wally, after a flash of yellow sped away and back again. ‘Wecan stop there for a break. Swap over.’

You beamed, murmuringyour thanks, grateful that soon you’d be the one to enjoy the open top and thecoast rolling beside you. But more thankful that he was as eager to look at thelittle area of coast as you were.