#if you have an oc that you think would visit his shop reblog and tell me about them! :D

[the-maddened-hatter]

I've come up with more inventory for my Hazbin OC Ozby's apothecary Part 1 here

A Cannibal Demon Specific dental treatment called Sweet-tooth pops, they're Thick, scarlet red sucker candies about the size of a smallish apple. The candy comes in multiple meaty flavors, the most popular being a nondescript "Blood". Though occasionally used by other demons, these candies are predominantly created for Cannibal Demon children to reduce the pain of new teeth growing in through a combination of a numbing syrup and providing a dense biteable treat

Hell's equivalent of Pedialyte, Diedryate, Little blue bottles of light green liquid, each comes with a little white packets customized to different species. These drinks are able to combat dehydration from extreme heat, severe gastric distress, intense stimulants, or copias blood/bodily fluid loss

Choc Blockers, Little chalky white cubes that combats the gastric distress chocolate induces in Hellhounds

Gordian Knope a gastric remedy Specially formulated to be powerful enough to clear serpentine constipation/intestinal blockages (many serpent formed Sinner Demons have need of it early on when they are unacustommed to their new forms or for a short time after re-forming after a temporary destruction). If a non serpentine entity needs to resort to this they have a severe issue. They are fuzzy little green herb balls that come in a glass jar.

Fauxver, A fine red powder stored in a shiny dark red jar and a small tin scoop for administration. A wound care tool, it induces a raised temperature when absorbed through the skin. It's used to combat infections in Sinner Demons and Hellborns that do not run fevers naturally (reptiles, insects, ect.) or are not running enough of one to prevent infection. The easiest method of administration is stirring the medication into bath/sponge bath water (it is suggested to wear gloves if administering this medication to a patient).

Frost Balm, A little silver tin with a frigid white cream inside, it's used to relieve pain from burns, welts, sores, blisters, or other wounds that cause a burning/stinging sensation, this cream induces a cooling & numbing to the applied area. It may cause temporary numbness in one's fingers if gloves are not worn when applying it.

Just like last time, recreationals under the cut:

Poppi a recreational potent topical relaxent designed specifically for Doll Demons, it is a neon pink oil that induces so extremely relaxed of a state that many if not all joints slacken to the point of popping loose. Once the effect wears off the joints can be reset with (usually) only slight discomfort due to their biology.

Skritch, A white strip of gauze soaked in a purpleish liquid before application around the neck. It Sends little bursts of itch-scratch pleasure sensations from random points across the body. Typically used by Hellhounds, though sometimes other species make use of it too.

Mad Honey, Tiny glass jars of brownish tinted honey mixed with Beezlejuice, it induces a dreamy stupor with psychedelic visions (causes a very unpleasant hangover).

[right-brain-left-brain]

Can you tell us anything about the secret boss you shared under the reblog of Veratus and @mercair's Quiddo?

I wish to hear more about your secret boss who's been over taken by plants and vines.

This is my first time sharing my secret boss ocs' lore, so I'm fairly excited. Alright, hope you like my ramble session. Here goes.

In the Light World, Rainie is Asriel's old raincoat. The memories of that raincoat alone is enough to be the basis for teru-teru-bozu-like darkners called Raindolls (temporary name?), of which Rainie is one of them.

For context, Chapter 6 is focused on the Dreemurr family, specifically Asgore (and Asriel somehwat). It's still a rough idea, but it's going to test him as a person and his will. Fittingly, Asgore is the 'Flower King' himself, while his subordinates are the Fun Gang (plus Asriel) and Darkners from this world.

So, for their backstory. You know how Jevil has Seam, and Spamton has Swatch? Rainie has Steambert (who in the Light World will be a watering can or one of those spray bottles for wall plants). Steambert doubles as both the head scientist/inventor of the Flower King Dark World and its 'main' shopkeeper.

The Raindolls were built to assist, and they would help whoever they're assigned to. Rainie happens to be an assistant to Steambert. Whether he's building something or managing his shop, Rainie would lend a hand as much as they could. The calm, persistent Raindoll would always help the eccentric inventor-shopkeep when there seems to be a dead end. With their help, the Dark World's cities prospered with steam powered machineries. A perfect combination of nature and machine.

One day, the shop by proxy of its assistant received a special customer; a strange man (you know who). This man, proclaiming himself to Rainie as a 'traveling scientist' visited the shop in hopes of talking to Steambert. Rainie looked for and found Steambert. The mystery man discussed with the 'fellow scientist', seeing great potential in the bright mind behind the country's machines. The discussion, however, shifted slowly from scientific matters to more... Weirder ones.

Things like the world being weaved from strings of 'codes', and how every single thing is a predetermined course of action. Just like the very machines that the shop's owners built and programmed. And with this odd message, the strange man offered Steambert a dark, dark crystal.

Raindolls are sensitive to changes in the atmosphere, and Rainie is no different. Sensing something dangerously off about the crystal (and the mystery man), they rushed to their master and snatched the crystal away. Even if it disrupts the otherwise (seemingly) fine discussion, they will protect Steambert; a master and a friend. If only they didn't make the mistake of looking at the crystal itself.

They saw too much. Things no living being should see or feel or think about. Things like how the world are codes and files and animated images and-

It's been days (weeks?) since the little, calm Raindoll left the workshop. While still well managed and visited, it hung by a thread when compared to its better days. Whispers amongst the crowd and light rain says that the little Raindoll can be seen peeking from behind the sprawling flora just on the outskirts of the Blumengeschäft's Castle and the Downtown. Though they were said to be seen wearing a raincoat made seemingly of petals, and the strings emblematic of the Raindolls seem to now be purple-red vines. In fact Raindolls aren't meant to have a purplish tint; could it be moss or fungi?

They waited and searched for so long that they've merged with the nature. Waiting, biding their time to search for someone who they can (and will, no matter what) help in freeing the people of this Dark World from their fates set in stone.

If you've reached this long, thanks for reading and hopefully you enjoyed the ramble session.

[irrigos]

reblog this and tell me a fun bit of OC lore (either in character lore or ooc)

I'll go first!

morgans middle name is Cecilia because that was my confirmation saint (i picked Cecilia bc shes the patron saint of music, and also because i think her whole story is kinda funny and weird, in the way that a lot of very old saints have weird stories. you could just say anything in the 5th century)

henrys name was originally Rowan, and also he was originally kind of an asshole. i kind of assumed there was no way Nemesis could actually end with you getting your vengeance, so originally morgans narrative was more about coming to terms with the full complicated reality of their late brother instead of their idealized version of him. that's still kind of part of it, but hes less of a scumbag now (and more just... a guy whose life was pretty bad and reacted accordingly. less of a scumbag and more of a dirtbag)

i named eliot after a river near where i grew up. im pretty sure saint-croix isnt actually a last name that people have? or at least not commonly. (it is also the name of the island where alexander hamilton was born, but i named eliot long before hamilton came out. so thats just a fun fact)

percys full name is Perseus. another fun fact is that he is autistic, and also cishet ace (in his opinion, sex is fine but he would never wait in line for it)

jacobs mom is not only italian, but actually italian-american. she was only supposed to be visiting london to study the latest fashions and bring them back to her familys tailor shop, but then the whole dang city fell. jacob has never seen the surface and thinks it sounds kind of mid anyway

[runnning-outof-time]

I Did It Myself | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @evita-shelby ‘s follower celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) has to take matters into her own hands after she gets taken by Luca Changretta.

Warnings: language, violence (typical to series), weapons, character death

Word Count: 3272

A/N: this was so very fun to write ... I tried my hand at writing a character in the tune of your lovely OC, Eva, although I still think that Eva is still more badass. Congrats on your amazing milestone @evita-shelby !! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) had had enough. It had been weeks now and the Shelby family was still stuck in Small Heath. The war with the Changretta family was still raging on, and it seemed as if it had no clear end in sight. Even though Tommy had managed to kill three of his men, Luca himself was still alive, which meant danger was still imminent. This also meant that (Y/N) still had to be sequestered in her old Watery Lane home. And she hated it.

Tommy insisted that she only leave the premises to either go to see Linda, Polly, or Ada, who were occupying other houses on Watery Lane. It wasn't safe for her to leave the confines of that street...he reminded her of that daily.

But going from doing so much at Arrow House to doing practically nothing in Small Heath was incredibly hard for her to adapt to. She often looked forward to when it was time to cook meals, which was surprising because she hated cooking. There was nothing else to do, though.

Today, however, (Y/N) had something planned. Instead of sitting inside and watching the world go by through a window, she was going to go out and enjoy herself. What would she do? She didn't quite know yet. But what she did know was she wanted to get as far away from Watery Lane as possible while still being within the Small Heath protection limits. Tommy left early in the morning. He was spending most of his time over at Charlie's yard; planning with his brothers and the other men, or working on perfecting his gin recipe...which was still a little too sweet for (Y/N)'s liking.

She waited until mid-day to go out on her own, after making sure that she looked presentable, of course. This was the first time in weeks that she had a reason to wear something other than a house dress, and she surely was going to make the most of it.

The Lane was quiet; people were either off at work or content inside their house. This benefitted (Y/N), because it meant that she didn't have anyone who would be going to her husband with the intent of telling on her. Everything seemed to be going to plan.

The first place she went was to a café that sat just two streets over. She got herself some tea and some pastries, happy to be eating something other than her own bland cooking. After sitting and enjoying herself there, she continued on down a few more streets until she made it to her favorite consignment store in the city. Dolly's as it was called, was run by an elderly woman who, you guessed it, went by the name Dolly. She was always very friendly and happy to see her repeat customers. She and (Y/N) had developed a sturdy relationship over all of the times that the younger woman had visited the shop.

"(Y/N)!" Dolly cheered as (Y/N) walked through the door.

"How are you, Ms. Dolly?" (Y/N) asked with a wide smile, happy to see some familiar faces after being alone for so long, "it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"It most certainly has," the other woman agreed with her, "I've been getting by. How have you been?" she then flipped the question back onto (Y/N), who had finally reached the counter.

"Oh, I've been fine," (Y/N) answered, letting out a slight sigh. "Things have been a bit hectic since Tommy's been dealing with a...a problem with the company, but we've been alright," she then disclosed, unsure of how much detail to go into.

Dolly's facial expression told her that she already knew more than what was just said to her. "Oh, yes...I've heard," she responded in a voice that clearly showed her shock of the situation, "those Shelby boys'll figure it out though...they always do," she finished her statement with some assuring words, which made (Y/N) smile. It was evident that the whole of Small Heath was still rallying behind the Shelby family, and that alone made (Y/N) feel proud.

"Here's hoping," (Y/N) said, nodding her head slightly before Dolly allowed her to go and peruse the wares that had been on display.

After finding two small jewelry pieces that she liked, (Y/N) made her way back over to the register. "Find anything special?" Dolly asked as the younger woman sat the items down on the counter.

"Just these two little things," (Y/N) responded as she pulled the correct amount of billnotes out of her purse, "I think they'll fit well with several of the dresses I have back at home."

"They're lovely pieces. You have such magnificent taste, (Y/N)," Dolly praised her, her kind words making (Y/N) smile slightly.

"Thank you, Dolly," the younger woman smiled before she pulled two more notes out of her purse and slipped them over to her. "For being a familiar face," she said, sending the older lady a wink.

"Thank you, darling," Dolly smiled widely, "take care now," she said her goodbye as (Y/N) turned and made her way back to the door of the shop.

She made her way back onto the street, deciding that she would walk even further from home and maybe sit on a bench at the park for a while. It was a beautiful day out...she was going to make the most of it.

She'd only gotten about a block down the road when someone called out to her: "it's rather brave of you to be out walking alone considering everything that's going on, Mrs. Shelby." It was a man, and his voice was coming from the passenger's side of the car that had slowed down next to her.

"I'm doing fine, thank you," she responded, barely glancing in their direction as she continued walking. She hoped that her disinterest in having a conversation would make them keep driving...although she couldn't quite shake her suspicions behind their reaching out. He spoke in an unfamiliar accent.

"Let us drive you home. Get you some place safe again," the guy called again as he continued to coast down the road alongside her.

"I said I'm fine," (Y/N) repeated her previous answer, stressing her words a bit more now.

"I don't think you picked up on it...this isn't up for your choice," he continued on, his voice dropping slightly.

"I said I'm ok," (Y/N) continued on with her insisting, stopping so that she could finally look at the man.

"Get in the fucking car," another man's voice came out of nowhere beside her, and the slightest glance in his direction made (Y/N) realize that he was holding a gun.

“Do you know who you’re messing with?” she asked, still standing her ground.

The men were persistent though. “We know exactly who you are, and that’s why you’re coming with us. So get in the fucking car,” the one standing beside her said as he then grabbed her arm and began walking her to the car’s rear door. She should have screamed...she knew she should have, but nothing would come out. So she gave in to their demands and got into the car. She’d have to fool them if she wanted to get herself out of this situation.

Some time later, the car pulled into the back lot of a hotel building. (Y/N) wondered how they were able to make it this far without being detected, but still managed to keep up her act. If things were going to go the way she was hoping, she’d have to make these men think that she was helpless and like putty in their hands.

Soon enough, she was sitting in a chair in an otherwise empty room. There was nothing physically holding her to the chair; the two men who brought her there were standing on either side of her. Her plan was definitely going as she’d hoped it to.

Not after long, the man, who up until this point she’d only heard about, entered the room. Luca Changretta. He was donning a rather nicely tailored three piece suit, and he had a cocky smirk on his face. Surely he felt like he had the upper hand in this whole feud now.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he asked as he came closer to where (Y/N) was sitting. “(Y/N) Shelby...what a pleasure it is to meet you. I see you haven’t been following your husband’s orders of staying off the streets,” he continued, tutting at her wrong doings.

“My husband isn’t in charge of what I do in my own time,” she snapped back at him, feeling annoyed at the fact that she was expected to do as Tommy said and not bat an eyelash.

“Oh, he’s not...but what you’ve decided to do with your own time is now going to kill him,” Luca stated, his words making (Y/N)’s eyes widen slightly. He only laughed at the reaction he’d caused. “You thought that we took you to kill you? No, sweetheart...we want to end this thing once and for all, and you’re going to be the one that brings him to us.”

(Y/N) felt her stomach drop at his words, and at once, the severity of the situation kicked in. She hadn’t thought of this possibility...that Luca would use her as bait to bring Tommy in, and she kicked herself for that. “You can’t possibly fool him like that,” she tried to defy him, hoping that her true emotions wouldn’t show.

“We’re surely going to try,” Luca was still grinning.

The door to the room opened before anything else could be said. “Mr. Changretta, Mr. Solomons is on the phone for you,” the man announced, making Luca finally look away from (Y/N).

“I’ll be right in for it,” Luca answered the man, who then left the room, before he turned back to (Y/N) and the help he had standing on either side of her. “Watch her, huh? This call shouldn’t take long,” he addressed the men before looking at the woman, “and you, think of what you’ll say to your husband...it’ll be the last time you speak to him.”

With that, Luca left the room. (Y/N) glanced up at the guards before she stared straight ahead at the door of the room. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling bubbling up in her stomach. There was a way out of this...she knew that much. But what it was wasn’t so clear to her yet. Yet.

Like Luca had said, it wasn’t long before he returned to the room. The cocky smirk was still apparent on his face as he came to a stop in front of (Y/N). “Our second option still needs some convincing, but we may not need it thanks to this darling right here,” he told his men before looking down at (Y/N), “have you decided what you’ll be saying?” he asked her then, his one eyebrow quirked.

“I have,” she kept her response short, nodding her head as she swallowed thickly.

“Good,” Luca nodded before snapping his fingers at the man on the left, “bring in the phone,” he ordered. The man nodded, leaving the room before hurrying back in with the phone in his hands, its chord trailing behind him. It only took a few seconds before Luca was talking with the receiver up to his ear. “Mr. Shelby...thank you for answering my call. I have someone here that wants to talk to you,” he said, his grin growing as he handed the receiver over to (Y/N). ‘Speak’ he mouthed to her.

“Hi...hi, Tommy,” she said, hating how shaky her voice was. At least it helped play into her charade.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy sounded extremely confused, “(Y/N), why are you with Luca Changretta?”

“His men found me. They brought me to where he’s staying. I’ll tell you where it is in a moment, but you need to come get me,” she said, speaking slowly as a way to try and keep her nerves down.

“I’ll come get you. Yeah, I’ll get you and then I’ll put a bullet in that fucker’s brains for thinking he could lay a hand on me wife,” Tommy responded with anger in his voice. She didn’t need to see him to tell how worked up he was getting. She took a deep breath to keep herself calm.

“Just come get me, ok?”

“I will. What’s the address, (Y/N)?” Tommy almost immediately insisted.

“It’s the one on Drinker Street,” she answered, not being too specific. Before Tommy was able to comment on that, she continued: “don’t forget to put the tea on before you leave...I might want some when I come home.”

Tommy froze after hearing her words. That was their sentence. The code they made up for ‘stay in place and I’ll get myself out of this’ so many years ago. Her tone was serious, so he knew he had to believe her. He had to stay back and hope that she’d be able to get herself out of this. “Ok,” he said as he exhaled a breath, “I’ll put the tea on and then I’ll come get you,” he played along just in case the lines were bugged. He knew that (Y/N) would understand what he was saying though. He wouldn’t be leaving his spot until he heard from her again.

“Ok. I love you, Tommy,” she added to make the situation more believable before the phone line went dead and the conversation ended. “He’s on his way,” she told Luca in a monotone voice, her words making his grin grow.

“Perfect,” he said, snapping his fingers at one of the guards before waving for the man to follow him out of the room. The man obliged, leaving (Y/N) in the room with the other guard.

“You realize you’ve just sent your husband to the slaughter,” the guard spoke up once the door shut, a similar cocky grin on his face.

“I do, and I’d like you to not mention it again,” she snapped, taking a deep breath then to try and control her emotions. She was going to need to be calm and collected if she wanted this plan she’d thought up to go as planned. A long period of silence went by before (Y/N) cleared her throat and spoke up again: “could you please give me my purse at least. My throat’s dry and I need a lozenge,” she made her ask believable by clearing her throat again.

The man let out a huff but pushed himself off of the wall and made his way to the table that stood on the other side of the room. (Y/N) watched him carefully, grinning internally at the fact that her plan was going off without a hitch. Dumb man, she thought to herself as the guard grabbed the purse and brought it to her. “Here you go,” he said, extending it to her.

She accepted it and made it seem as though she was rummaging through it for a few moments. Then, in one swift motion, she grabbed the knife that she always kept in the bag’s bottom. She then stood up and took a few steps towards the man who was still retreating back to his original spot. She wrapped her one arm around him to stop his movements before swinging the other arm around so that she’d be able to plunge the knife into his chest. The man yelped, but (Y/N) quickly silenced him, pushing him against the wall and bringing her hand up to cover his mouth before she began repeatedly plunging the knife into his chest. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, repeating the motion a few more times for good measure before leaving the weapon stuck in his chest for good. The man’s eyes widened and dulled as she then stepped back from him, allowing him to slump lifelessly to the ground.

After taking a deep breath to contain herself, she wiped the splattered blood off of her face and then quietly walked towards the door. Opening it ever so slowly, she then peeked her head out to see that the larger room of the suite was indeed empty. She shook her head and grinned, realizing that her plan had worked out perfectly. There surely wasn’t an inkling in their minds that she could manage to escape. So she quickly managed to make her way down the side fire escape, moving as quietly as possible to get down to the ground from the third floor.

The sun was starting to set at this point, which made it easier for (Y/N) to slip into the alleyways that she knew like the back of her hand. Soon enough, she was making her way back onto Watery Lane.

She knocked on the door of her and Tommy’s home gently and waited for someone to come to it. A good bit of time had passed since she made the call to her husband, so she hoped that he’d returned to the house for the night.

Her hopes were answered moments later when the door swung open to reveal a very worried looking Tommy. “(Y/N),” he breathed, exhaling a sigh of relief as his eyes swept over his wife; who was covered in splattered blood. “You’re back...you’re ok,” he said, then taking her arms into his hands so that he could bring her in closer to him. “Are you ok?” he flipped the second part of his original statement into a question.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) answered, a dejected look in her eyes. She had had a long day and was more than ready for a warm bath and sleep.

“What about Luca? What about the men? Did you inflict any casualties?” he asked, his eyes still slightly frantic.

“I killed the man that was guarding me. There was no one else left in the hotel room when I left,” she explained to him, internally hating to he was now putting her through a questioning session.

“I’ll have men watching over you now...now that Luca’s realized that his plan didn’t go the way he wanted,” he assured her, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“No, Tommy. I don’t need men. I’m fine by myself, because I did all of that myself. There’s nothing your men can do that I can’t,” she told him, putting her foot down on the situation before she was finally able to begin walking to the stairs in the house. Before she was on the second floor, she stopped, “oh...Alfie Solomons called Luca while I was there. They’re concocting some sort of plan,” she informed him as she twisted back to look at him.

“No,” was all he said in response, a look of disbelief on his face. There was no way that Alfie would go behind his back again...not after what happened to him and his son.

“Yes,” (Y/N) insisted, nodding for an additional effect. “Believe me, or not...I don’t care at the moment. I’m going to go take a bath, see that Charlie is sleeping, and go to bed. I’ve had enough of everything for today,” she said, letting out a long sigh before she turned around again and continued up the steps to go and do just that.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @sunsetmourners @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick

MASTERLIST

[vivianweasley]

Someone Better (Chapter 2)

Summary: Your friend invited you to a Hogwarts alumni blind date dinner party. She paired you with someone that looked like your ex boyfriend Draco, but what if the one you truly wanted was sitting at the other table?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2K

Warnings: creepy guy (OC) being handsy, poor writing.

A/N: I guess you don’t really have to read the previous parts to read this? One part left! Hope you guys would like it:)

Prologue  Chapter 1  Epilogue

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcomed:)

It was a week before Christmas and your old Hogwarts friend, Lexie, came to visit you. But somehow she was shocked to learn that you were still single.

“Merlin, Y/N! You’ve been single for what? Three years now?” Lexie realized she was shouting since everyone in the book shop was glaring at her now. She lowered her voice, “Please tell me you’re already over Malfoy.”

“I am. It’s just that...I haven’t met anyone yet.” You came up with the most ambiguous excuse ever.

“Yea obviously! You’re not going to meet anyone if you keep hiding in this little book shop.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered. A particular face appeared in your mind, but you decided not to tell Lexie about it.

“Oh right! I’m arranging a blind date dinner party this Saturday at the Three Broomsticks. You have to come!”

“But I...”

“There’s not but! Don’t worry, it’s for Hogwarts alumni, so you probably know most of them already. And I will assign everyone a date! You have to show up, or else I’ll come kidnap you!”

You knew Lexie was just trying to help, even though her approach was a little bit forceful. But you reckon it’s not going to hurt, just think of it as a chance to meet new friends.

“Fine, I’ll go. Please don’t come kidnap me.”

Saturday, you actually took the time to clean up yourself. You did your makeup and put on a blue dress. 

To be honest, you couldn’t even remember when was the last time you dressed up like this. Was it when you were having dinner at Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve when you were 16? Or was it the Yule ball?

“Y/N! You showed up!” Lexie dragged you to their table as soon as you entered the Three Broomsticks.

“This is Ralph Burke. You were in the same year.”

The man before you was pale and skinny. He was wearing a suit and his hair was styled neatly. For some reasons, you found him really familiar, but you couldn’t figure out where have you seen him before. So you just supposed that you two must have had the same class before.

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).” You held out your hand, but he took your hand and kissed the back of it. The unexpected intimacy froze you. You pulled your hand back stiffly, not knowing how to react.

Lexie was nowhere to be found now, so you just sat beside Burke awkwardly. You glanced around and saw Lee Jordan was also here. He looked uneasy too and he was looking around, possibly waiting for someone. 

Lee was Fred’s friend so you knew each other. You wanted to walk over to his table and chat with him instead, but Burke began talking, “So Y/N, where do you work?”

You couldn’t help but furrowed your brow a bit. Since when were you two on first-name basis now?

“I’m working at Flourish and Blotts.”

“Why would a girl like you work at a place like that? It’s a waste of your talent. Look, I know some people in the Ministry. I could introduce you to them.”

“Thank you, bu I...”

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed. My position in the Ministry is actually pretty decent and I know many people from ‘up there’...” And he went on ranting about how successful he was, but your attention was soon captured by a familiar figure walking into the Three Broomsticks and towards your table.

So Fred was the person that Lee was waiting for! 

He saw you too and you could see he was surprised. You waved at him and decided to just ignore Burke and go sit with Fred. But Lexie’s voice pushed you back to your seat again.

“Brilliant! Everyone is here now! So I assume you already knew, the person sitting next to you is your date tonight! Please don’t swap dates since I spent ages picking them specifically for each one of you! And please do me a favor. At least give me two couples tonight, alright?”

Everyone was laughing along, but you could only produce a forced laugh. Why would she pair you with someone like this? What exactly was going on in Lexie’s brain?

Much to your dismay, you listened to Burke bragging about how brilliant he was for the entire night. But you found yourself keep glancing at Fred. His date tonight was Hannah Abbott and he was making her laugh. It seemed like they were having a good time. 

You hated to admit it, but you were jealous. It seemed like he could chat and flirt with anyone and make them laugh so effortlessly. Was Fred like this to everyone? So you weren’t special?

You didn’t even have time to process what’s the meaning behind your thoughts, but Burke’s hand already snaked around your waist.

You were stunned by the touch and tried to back away from him.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” he was clearly drunk, “We both know I’m just your type.”

You froze. You finally realized why you felt like you’ve seen him before. He was trying to imitate Draco all along and he was doing it since when you were still at Hogwarts. Draco used to complain about him before, but you thought he was just pathetic and told Draco to just let him be.

“I’m so much better than Draco Malfoy! Why can’t I get his girl?” He was inching closer and closer to you. You were trying to back away from him, but he was gripping tightly on your arm. 

“Mate, back off from my girl!” Burke was suddenly dragged off of the seat and thrown to the floor by someone.

It was Fred! 

You ran to hug him, possibly smashing your face into his chest.Your brain was flooded by a mixture of anger, terror, and distress. It was as if the nightmares from your last two years at Hogwarts came back. You were trembling and you finally started to cry. But Fred hugged you back and whispered comforting words in your ear.

You couldn’t hear the crowd and Burke’s wailing anymore. All you could hear was Fred whispering softly, “Do you want to get out of here?”

You nodded and hugged him tighter.

The noise in the Three Broomsticks disappeared. Fred apparated the both of you into his apartment above the joke shop.

Fred led you to the couch in front of the fireplace and wrapped you around with a blanket.

He was about to go to the kitchen to pour you a cup of warm tea, but you were holding on the hem of his jumper, “Can you...can you stay with me for a while?”

Fred nodded and sat beside you on the couch. You rested your head on his shoulder. Fred was going to wrap his arm around your shoulders, but then he realized that someone was just harassing you. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so he just rested his arm on the couch instead.

You both remained silent for a while. The only sound you could hear was the crackling fire in this silent apartment. 

“So, why were you there?” Fred finally spoke.

“Why were you there?” 

“Lee dragged me there.”

“Lexie dragged me there.”

Fred chuckled, “Guess we are the same then.”

“Fred?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for saving me today,” you said softly, without looking at him. The scene of him saving you was playing on repeat in your mind. And Merlin, the words he said were also making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. You lowered your head more, praying that he wouldn’t see you blushing.

“No worries.” He joked, “But seriously though, what was your friend thinking pairing you with a git like that?”

“Maybe cuz she thought I still fancy that type. You know, someone like Draco or whatever.”

This was probably the first time that Fred ever heard you mention Draco’s name.

“So you don’t fancy that type anymore?” Fred was nervous when he asked this question. He felt his heart was going to pop out of his chest at any minute.

“No I don’t.” 

Fred sighed in relief, “That’s brilliant! I mean..I just want to say that...it’s good to look forward! Anyways, where are you staying for Christmas? I can send you a Christmas present.”

Fred’s reaction made you smile. “You are going to give me a present? What is it? Give me a hint!”

You were really excited. You looked at Fred with anticipation lighting up your eyes. The fire in front casted a soft glow on your face and Fred could see the speckles in your eyes now. He was simply lost in your eyes. For a moment, he thought he must be drunk, or what else could possibly be clouding his senses right now?

“Haven’t made up my mind yet. What present do you want for Christmas?”

“You.”

Yep, Fred was pretty sure he was definitely drunk now, “What?”

You didn’t know when did you became so bloody brave. Maybe it was because of the festive atmosphere. Maybe it was because you still couldn’t think straight from the unpleasant incident that happened just now. 

You took a deep breath and began, “Maybe I read everything wrong. Maybe you helped me only because you are a nice person. Maybe you were just talking rubbish when you called me ‘your girl’. But screw that. I fancy you Fred, for quite a while now. So if you really want to give me what I want for Christmas, all I want for Christmas is you.”

Fred was speechless for a while.

During the one or two minutes that he remained silent, you felt like an absolute idiot. Great, now Fred must feel awkward and is probably thinking about how to turn you down politely. 

What should you do? Pretend that you were just talking nonsense because you were drunk? Or should you just disapparate? This seemed like a nice idea. It is fast and you don’t have to explain anything.

You reached for your wand, but when you were about to say the spell, you heard Fred say, “I fancy you too.”

Now it felt strange hearing an affirmative answer. Your eyes widened and you were just staring at him while still holding your wand.

Fred chuckled, “Does it mean that I don’t need mistletoes to kiss you now?”

You finally let out a laugh. You nodded and he pulled you closer. When your lips were pressed together, you thought this was probably the best Christmas present you could get.

“Fred,” you were cuddling on the couch now with your head resting on his chest. “Do you know why I never mention anything about Draco?”

“Merlin, you just said you fancy me a few minutes ago and you are already talking about your ex boyfriend?”

You slapped him on his arm jokingly, “I didn’t talk about him not because I was still not over him, but because I was scared to talk about anything that happened during my last two years at Hogwarts. But I think I’m getting better now. I think I can finally begin to talk about those years now.”

He ran his fingers through your hair and he kissed your hairline, “That’s all in the past now. We can make new memories from now on.”

You smiled and closed your eyes. You were always worrying about your future and torturing yourself with your past, but right now, you were just living in this moment. His embrace was so secure and comfortable, you couldn’t help but slipped into a peaceful slumber. It has been a while since you last fell asleep so easily.

[gi-maeve-rose]

Dark Matters

Chapter 3: Surprise Visit

“Holy shit,” Shae commented as she eyed Kandomere up and down. It had been a decade or more since they’ve been in contact, let alone seen each other. Work has surely worn exhaustion and age into him, but he hadn’t changed a bit; expensive three-piece suit, baby blue locks. “I definitely didn’t expect to see you here, Kandy Man. I suddenly have a sweet tooth.” Shae’s sharp teeth dug into her bottom lip as she grinned.

Kandomere cleared his throat, feeling himself grow hot under the collar under her gaze. “May we come in?” he asked.

Shae raised an eyebrow and stepped off to the side, allowing them access to her apartment. As Kandomere, Daryl, and Nick filed in, they were greeted by a large Cane Corso. He sniffed at the men excitedly. 

“Titan, cama,” Shae ordered the dog. He immediately trotted to his bed beside the couch along the wall. His tail wagged happily.

Nick smiled at Titan. “He’s very beautiful,” he complimented.

“Thank you!” Shae said with a wide smile. “Most new people who meet him think he’s scary or dangerous just because of his breed, but Titan is the biggest sweetheart you could ever meet.”

“Hey, him and I got something in common!” Nick and Shae laughed together. It was different, but comforting that Shae didn’t seem put off by an orc being in her home. It could be that she lived in a heavily orc populated area and babysat orc children often, or it could be that that was just in her nature to be so kind.

Daryl, already wanted to leave, cleared his throat and spoke up. “Miss Cortez-”

“Oh, please, call me Shae,” she insisted. A moment of shock scanned over her face. “Oh, shit, how rude of me! Do you guys want something to eat or drink?” She scrambled to the kitchen.

Kandomere forced back a smile. It was heartwarming to see how little her personality had changed. He couldn’t imagine Shae being anything but hospitable. “Coffee, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Water, please,” Nick asked. Shae looked to Daryl, who nodded for water also.

“Coming right up,” Shae filled two tall glasses of water and handed them to Nick and Daryl. She smiled nostalgically at Kandomere. “Hazelnut brew, one cane sugar packet?”

Kandomere broke into a smile. “You actually remembered?”

She scoffed as she started the pot. “You only snapped loud enough for the whole coffee shop to hear when the barista got it wrong for the second time in a week.”

“We had been going to that spot for years,” he defended. “They should’ve had it right by then.”

“She was a trainee!” Shae erupted into giggles.

Ten years. Ten years had gone by, but it seemed not a moment had passed. The comfort in each other’s company still held strong. You’d think there was never a reason they lost contact in the first place. Unless you were them. Then you’d know exactly the reason...

Daryl raised an eyebrow at the interaction. So there was history between them. But Shae was a Bright. Weren’t magic feds completely against magic in general? Why would Kandomere, the most uppity of the magic feds, associate with a Bright? As curious as he was, he was more eager to get this Magic bullshit over with. “Shae,” he interrupted, capturing the audience of three. “We’re here because we have some questions for you. Something went down recently and sources led us to you. Would you mind helping us out?”

Shae shifted her stance as her smile fell. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course.”

Hiding his displeasure of the mood shift, Kandomere pulled a file from his blazer. “This is highly classified information, so no one can know.” He set the file on the kitchen table. “A while back there was a run-in with Inferni. An elf named Leilah, in specific. Her Wand was stolen by another member, and also her sister, Tikka.”

“She was trying to get away from them,” Daryl added quickly, almost defensively. “She didn’t want no part of that ‘resurrecting the Dark Lord’ bullshit.”

Shae swallowed hard as she took the file from the table. Kandomere noticed this, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach forming as he continued. “Officers Ward and Jakoby here were the ones who took her out. We’ve had the Wand in Magic Task Force possession ever since.” He sighed heavily. “That is, until recently. A few weeks ago, our archives were infiltrated by two Inferni women.”

Shae opened the file. The first thing she saw was a screen capture of the security footage. She recognized the women instantly. They were close friends of Shae’s, or at least they use to be back when they all attended college together. As many usually do, Shae, Nadia, and Akila inevitably went their separate ways after graduation. While Shae started her internship with the Magic Task Force, Nadia and Akila wanted a bit more adventure. She hadn’t heard from the two ever since, and now it was apparent as to why.

Shae let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I know them,” she admitted. “We were all pretty close back in the day.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have an idea where they might be hiding out?” asked Nick. “Or have they ever reached out to you?”

Kandomere shot Nick an icy glare. “I doubt Shae would have any association with the Inferni,” he defended sharply. “She may be a Bright, but that doesn’t mean she-”

“They did reach out to me recently,” Shae interrupted. The pit in her stomach grew, making her feel sick. “And by recently, I mean a couple months go.” Shae dared a glance at the three men, the sick feeling only getting worse when her eyes met Kandomere’s. “They said they wanted me in on a project they were working on. They didn’t give details, said they would only tell me if I agreed to it. just based off that, I had a bad feeling, so I told them no, and that was the end of it. I’m guessing this was their project.”

Kandomere felt a burning mix of relief and fear settle in his chest. The Inferni had come to Shae, but she rejected them, despite the two women being dear to her heart. But the Inferni had come to Shae... And that could only mean they would come back for her. But why Shae? Of all the Brights, there had to be more who were more skilled and experienced with their ability.

Daryl may have had a similar notion cross his mind, sharing the same expression as Kandomere. He sighed heavily, turning to the elf. “How do you wanna do this?” he asked.

Shaken from his looming thoughts, Kandomere cleared his throat. “I’ll need to consult Montehugh, but that won’t be possible until tonight.” He started packing up the files, irritated once more that they were at time’s mercy.

Shae bit her bottom lip as the men readied themselves to leave. “Do you have a basic blueprint on what you’re going to do?” she asked suddenly, startling herself.

Kandomere paused.

“I’m sorry, Shae, but I don’t think that’s information we can share,” Nick spoke up. 

She nodded, dropping her head in disappointment, yet smiling softly. “Right, right. Magic Task Force business. Top secret. How could I forget that?” She picked her head up again, her smile a little wider. “Stay for lunch then? I was just about to start before you showed up.”

Kandomere’s chest tightened. Shae was always the first to jump at a helpful opportunity, especially ones of such importance. It was just who she was. He found himself not wanting to leave so soon, despite not wanting to have showed up here in the first place. “That sounds nice,” he accepted, his wants speaking for themselves.

Shae beamed, too distracted by the overwhelming warmth in her body to notice Nick and Daryl exchange glances, but they didn’t object. “Perfect. I’ll get started.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art by: @margaritamamaaa

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~~~~~~~~

I only post to Tumblr and AO3! Please do not repost my chapters to any other website unless I give you my written permission!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bright or any of the characters except for my OCs!

[atypicalacademic]

what can i say, i’m a simple person—you reblog oc questions and i ask 👀 so! 15 for haider, 18 for kadambari, 24 for zurkhi & 28 for nurlan and sybilla! 💕

What can I say, you’re a treasure~

From the Apprentice Asks

15) How did your apprentice feel about Asra leaving all the time? Taking care of them? (Haider)

Haider’s a caretaker, sure, but he’s also had “You Help Your People And Your People Help You” taught and coded into his very psyche so much that not even death could take that away. So his crisis in those initial days was more to do with the illness and confusion, not knowing his role in anything, and not feeling as independent as he likes, and he felt better once he started taking more charge around the shop. But he’s neither ashamed that Asra had to take care of him, nor is he guilty about it. He needed care, and Asra gave it to him, and he’s just very, very grateful and appreciative of it.

In the initial days, Asra’s leaving did upset him. It makes him anxious, he hates not being told what was going on, and he could sense Asra was troubled somehow, but wouldn’t let him in. (You help your people, and they help you, right?) After everything’s out in the open, though, he doesn’t mind Asra going on his merry way, so long as Asra lets him know, tells him when he’s going to be back and if there are any changes in plans.

18) What would drive your apprentice so far as to strike a bargain? (Kadambari Naayagi)

See, if the Devil were to resort to intimidation tactics and open villainy, there’s about nothing she’ll agree to. She’ll see it for what it is, and brainstorm or call for help or think up some sort of solution that wouldn’t require a compromise like that. But, the Devil’s a deceitful being, so if he were to pretend to be on her side, underplay the impact of what she’s doing, (because she’s still new to magic), or withhold key information as he’s wont to do, she tends to veer to naiivete and a quiet sort of recklessness, and she might be tricked into it. 

24. A magic lamp is found in the shop, and a genie inside gives them three wishes. What are they? (Zurkhi)

As tempting as it is to wish for ultimate knowledge and for all the tyrants in the world to drop dead, Zurkhi is wary of commanding that kind of power. He’s not god, he doesn’t want to be god, and he doesn’t have the sort of hubris that assumes that he is the will of the people. So I think he’ll ask the genie if they’re doing this out of free will, if someone’s trapped them, and if he can use a wish to free them, because he’s not going to use someone’s lack of liberty against them.

If the genie is there out of free will and wants to help, well- then he’ll only ask one thing: "What more could I do? Here and now, what can I change for the better?"

28. Describe what their magical realm gateway would be like?

Sybilla- A tent in the middle of a bright, wild clearing. Inside, it’s more luxurious than it appears- there’s a bed and plush couches loaded with furs. A deck of playing cards on a small marble table, bows and arrows, a spear, and charm-moulds that fill themselves up with silver. An ivory colored force-field ripples around the tent with the force of an entire fortress, gleaming like a  shield. The wind that blows inside is a little chilly, but there’s no snow anywhere in sight.

Nurlan: The landscape surrounding it looks like the Steppe, but there’s a sanctuary made of polished, gleaming golden-colored stone that looks like the Sun Temple in Vesuvia. It’s lined with big, stone-carved torches surrounding a bigger flame. The floor and the walls all glow when she touches it, and the ceiling is open for the sun to pour in. (She didn’t know where those paintings and tapestries on the walls were from, until she finally made the journey South to visit her grandparents, and her old tribe.) 

[hannah-deactivated20220725]

Character Development 20 Questions

So, @missionkitty and I are playing 20 questions (like the version that you ask each other questions and answer honestly) but we’re answering for our characters instead of ourselves. We’ve been doing this since like midnight (though I did go to bed pretty early into the game) and now I wanted to make a “character development” post for it. Go give that girl a follow! Her characters sound amazing and her art IS amazing! <3 much love, my friend.

If you guys bother to read all of this, feel free to reblog and answer any and/or all of these about YOUR characters!! :D

Here we go!

Question #1: Which of your characters would be REALLY UPSET if they were caught at the END of the day with toothpaste at the corners of their mouth and had gone like that all day and which would just nonchalantly wipe it off like it was no big deal? What would their excuse for their mindsets on it be?

Her: julian would probably be the one who would get really upset and be super embarrassed, while robin would be super chill about it...as far as their excuses go...julian would probably have been distracted by getting ready for a full moon (since he's a werewolf), but robin probably got lost in her own thoughts and forgot to look in the mirror one last time before going to work

Me: So Kate would obviously get upset but that woman gets upset at just about anything xDD her reasoning would be "why didn't someone have the respect to tell me before and not make me look like such a fool!?" Marcus would just be like "oh thanks for letting me know" because better late than never, right? :p

Question #2: Which of your ocs would be humiliated to play an otome game and which would be shameless?

Her: julian might be embarrassed but deep down love it a lot.. he'd low-key defend the game when people talk about it but be very cagey if someone confronted him about playing it

Question #3: do any your characters like to cook and if they do, do they have any "signature" dishes or things they always cook?

Me: Marcus loves to cook. His mother is half Chinese so he likes to play around with a lot of popular Chinese dishes and make them his own.

Question #4: Which of your ocs couldn't care less about how they smell and go all natural and which like... wear a little TOO much perfume?

Her: i would say that feliks doesn't worry too much about how he smells, but julian hardly ever leaves home without wearing his favorite cologne...he definitely regularly worries about how he smells 

Question #5: Do any of your ocs enjoy shopping alone or with other people more?

Me: Jasmine is my shopper, for sure. She loves online shopping with a drink in hand most. Either by herself or with one other person.

Question #6: Which of your characters would share your taste in video games THE MOST?

Her: I think yoyo would share my taste in video games--rpgs, story-driven kinds of games. stuff she can really get involved in

Question #7: Would any of your characters enjoy stargazing?

Me: ohhhh fuck yeah! I think Ikuisuus would love it tbh, since she's stuck in the "lobby of the afterlife," as I like to call it. She misses being alive, which is why she visits Belinda as much as she can rather than having Belinda be the one to visit her. (: umm, Jeana (belinda and Iku's daughter in LLS) um, Elise for sure! Aria FOR SURE since she's an elf and in that world (really, any world let's be real here), elves are close to nature

[the-maddened-hatter]

The goods in Ozby's Apothecary (so far)

So I've been working on thinking up some of his medicinal wares and this is what I've come up with so far!

It's a little long so it's under the read more:

A reptile specific dermal treatment called Unguentum Draconis- A small metal tin of thick, pale, nearly gelatinous ointment that when rubbed into the scales of a shedding reptilian sinner demon or hellborne, it moistens & loosens the scales, allowing them to be more easily removed, plus lessens the itching & relaxes sore muscles.

A gastric remedy called Wally-Cobble Jelly, which is a (tightly sealed) mason jar of a dark magenta paste. The paste smells foul, and there are small white flecks interspersed throughout the mixture. It has a gritty, salty sweet taste. It is made from a particular breed of berries blended with the grubs nest within them. It eases stomach cramps & relaxes the GI tract. (1 spoonful every 4 hours. Dosage times may vary for those with multiple stomachs)

A respiratory care set called Green Gills that consists of a a small metal tin of seafoam green paste and a small spritzer bottle of glittery blue liquid that helps to relieve congestion and Dry-Lung in Hellborn and Sinner Demon aquatics. The paste is rubbed over the gills to improve moisture absorption then the area is sprayed with the medicated liquid to promote easier breathing, clear out mucus, and reduce pain from lung straining

A white and blue metal arisol canister of medication infused condensed air called TechnoPuff that Aides in clearing physical blockages from Techno Sinner Demon's respiratory ports, which if left untreated can cause labored breathing, lethargy, and overheating

Coolant 631 Paxs (a pun on gel) that are Small clear plastic packets filled with a vivid blue gel. They are somewhat cool to the touch and are reactive to the techno sinner demons unique physiology, these Paxs are able to provide non-moistening relief for overheating & injuries to their synthetic biology.

A jar of a thick tar-like substance and a heavy-duty applicator (comes in multiple colors) called HoofGoop that Seals cracks in damaged hooves and provides an extra degree of protection to the appendage. Only apply with the applicator, as contact with non-hoof body parts will cause it to dry in a hard shell that will be damaging and painful to remove

A plastic squeeze bottle full of transparent liquid called Screen Stick, which is a A Techno Sinner demon specific wound care medication, specifically a numbing agent that helps the bio glass re-knit when broken

A spool of silvery glistening thread called Silken Weave that's made from a substance that dulls nerves allowing for pain relief during wound stitching. Some people opt to use it recreationally, often via unfortunate methodology.

Recreational substances under the cut:

Blinding Lights, a small vial of iridescent sparkling liquid corked with an eyedropper. It Acts as a relaxing psychoactive substance for insectoid Sinner Demons, typically producing visions of warm comforting light or swirling rainbow vortexes.

Coral Reefer, a pink plastic shell shaped case of small pink and orange swirled chunks of dried coral. They Pproduce a state of sleepy relaxation (and unfortunately later on a feeding frenzy) in Aquatic Hellborns and Sinner demons when crushed between the teeth. Sometimes causes pink bubbles to flow from the gills.

PissPot, tiny yellow metal tins that are shaped like teapots, filled with a lumpy blue sludge. They contain stimulants that have been heavily cut and smell strongly of amonia. Some people just can't handle the good stuff. Gotta give the people what they want.

Seeing Red, a small white metal tin of chunky dark red powder. It is a stimulant powder mixed with dried blood that when snorted produces a state of intense energy and violence in most carnivore formed Sinner Demons, Hellhounds, and some Aquatic Hellborns.

Verdant Wonderland, stored in a bottle made from LSD in crystal form, filled with vivid green Absinthe. Small swirls of crushed LSD crystals are visible in the bottle. It induces bizarre hallucinations and a deeply relaxed state. Allows the user to fall into a deep sleep and have strange vivid dreams.

Ye Olden Coffencolde Morphine Drops, Small red lozenges that are wrapped in little paper wrappers that sport a Victorian font. Induces a relaxed, sleepy, pain-free state. Some people from older times do genuinely purchase them for coughs and colds, though they aren't that effective.

[glowrioustrash]

Well That’s Embarassing

Summary: Mox goes to the mall with his girlfriend but quickly grows bored. Luckily, they have a game they play sometimes where they try to embarrass each other in public.

Pairing: Jon Moxley x OC (Dani)

Word Count: 1500+

Warnings: False, humorous accusations of kinks and medical issues? It’s an odd one, feel free to message me if you have concerns. The whole premise is them saying fake things in public to embarrass each other so it gets pretty silly.

Author’s Note: Hey, I’m alive! Well obviously I am, I have been reblogging stuff but I wrote a thing! Wow! Thanks to @kingcorbean and @vonschweetz for their help in it <3 The post that gave me the initial idea is at the very end.

Also apparently in the time I’ve been gone they took away line breaks? Gross.

I don’t have any tag list anymore it’s been eons, but I’m also tagging @robwiethoff because I love her.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Just go by yourself.”

“But that’s not as fun.”

“So?”

A groan was his only warning before his lap was suddenly occupied. Dani’s legs hung over the arm of the chair he was sitting in as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He made a show of it, letting a woosh of air escape as if she had knocked the wind out of him - she couldn’t knock the wind out of him even if she tried, he was used to being tackled by men 3 times her size.

“C’mon Mox.” She pouted at him.

“I don’t want to go to the mall.” He told her plainly, his face unamused even as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He might not be interested in going to the mall, but he’d never be upset about his girl in his lap.

“Jon.” She whined, dragging out his name. He responded by mocking her, whining wordlessly back at her. She tried to fight back the laughter at his girlish noise but a small smile broke through.

“Just go to the mall. Take my card, get whatever you want.” He offered.

“But who will tell me if I look good if you’re not there?” She huffed, leaning into his chest.

“Someone who works there.” He shrugged.

“They tell you look good in everything so you buy more.”

“They’re right, you do look good in everything.”

“Jon.” She whined again, adding a wiggle of her hips for good measure.

“You really want me to go?” He sighed.

“Yes.” She sat up, smiling brightly at him.

“You want me to go, be miserable, make fun of all the stores we go into, and sit around while you try on clothes?” He reiterated, trying to make her reconsider.

“Yes.”

“You want me to complain the whole time we’re walking around, asking how much longer until we can leave, reminding you every 5 minutes that you owe me big time?”

“Did I mention I’m stopping at Victoria’s Secret?”

“Why didn’t you say so, woman?!” His entire demeanor changed, perking up at the thought. He tightened his arms around her as he stood, picking her up. She laughed as he started walking towards the garage. “Let’s go to the mall!”

It didn’t take long for Moxley to grow bored of the mall as Dani wanted to stop in at several other stores before Victoria’s Secret. They were in some home decor store when he decided to try and hurry it along. He saw a horse figurine and picked it up before calling her name loudly.

“Hey Dani, we should get this for your sister. You know, the one that likes to fuck horses.” He spoke loudly, making sure any shoppers in the area could hear.

Dani’s eyes widened at first before narrowing, knowing exactly what game they were about to be playing. They’d done this a million times before, trying to embarrass the other in public for fun.

*****

The airport was busy around them as they said goodbye. Dani was used to him leaving to go back on the road, but it was harder now that he was wrestling in Japan. It was so much farther, the time difference was huge. He was going to be gone for almost a whole month before he got a chance to come visit.

“I gotta go.” He spoke softly, the moment just for them in the hustle and bustle of the airport.

“I know.” She admitted sadly, tears threatening to spill over as she loosened her grip on him.

“I’ll call every day.” He promised.

“You better or I’ll fly there to kick your ass.” She threatened weakly.

“If that’s the case, maybe I won’t call.” He teased, making her laugh softly.

“Don’t you dare.” She pouted, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Miss you already.” He murmured against her lips.

“Miss you more.” She replied, reluctantly releasing her hold on him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Let me know when you land.”

“Always do.” He pecked her on the lips once more before joining the line through security.

Dani brushed away at the tears that had started to fall, cursing herself for being so emotional as she watched him progress through the line. She was happy for him, this is what he wanted to do. He was happy and healthy, he had a spark he’d been missing for years.

“Hey Jon!” She called out to him, refusing for their good bye to be so mushy. “Take care of that rash, okay!”

He grinned, taking a few steps forward as the line moved. “Okay, but remember to wipe front to back while I’m gone.” He called back.

Dani laughed, seeing the shocked and disgusted looks on the people around him in line. “I will. Your hemorrhoid cream is packed in your carry-on. Take care of your butthole.”

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” He answered as he moved to the front of the line. He lowered the shades he was wearing to wink at her before stepping into the area where she couldn’t see him anymore.

*****

“No, no. She didn’t fuck a horse. She said that being with another man after you was *like* fucking a horse.” Dani shot back. “Because of your tiny penis.”

“Your mom didn’t think it was tiny.” He shrugged, setting the figurine back on the shelf.

“My dad had a micropenis, I wouldn’t trust her.” Dani responded flippantly as she continued to browse.

By the time he had his comeback loadad, asking her how she knew, she’d already moved to the next aisle.

Point Dani. Game on.

...

“I don’t care if you consent, I’m not putting all of these candlesticks in your ass.”

Point Mox.

...

“Oh, we need to get some puppy pads. I’m tired of cleaning your explosive diarrhea out of the carpet.”

Point Dani.

...

“This dress would look really nice on you, but it might show off all those boils you’re trying to hide.”

Point Mox.

...

“I’m not comfortable bringing any blow-up holiday decorations into the house until you can promise you’re not going to try to have sex with it.”

Point Dani.

...

It carried on throughout several stores and it didn’t speed up their shopping at all, but at least Moxley was having fun now. By the time they made it to the final stop, his arms were full of bags from the other stores. His annoyance of being dragged along and having to carry all Dani’s bags lessened as he wondered what in the store Dani was going to be trying on.

“You can go set those down and sit in the boyfriend chair if you want.” She told him with a peck to his cheek. Mox nodded and headed to the back of the store where he’d find the chair. He stopped a few racks away from Dani as he saw a display mannequin wearing a lacy blue thing with straps all over the place.

“How about this?” He pointed it out to her, wiggling his eyebrows.

Dani dropped the bra she was looking at and came to see what he was pointing out. She looked it over, feeling the fabric between her hands. “It’s nice,” she agreed, “but the last time you wore lace you complained about the chafing.” She smirked.

Before he could respond, she shot him a challenging look and picked one up off the table, the look clearly saying that if he wanted her to try it on, he should accept the defeat. He kept his mouth shut, not entirely sure who won the point considering he was walking away quite happy with himself.

After browsing, Dani made her way to the change room to try things on. She stepped out of the room to get his opinion on a few of them (his opinion always varying degrees of “yes get it” and “wow that’s hot”) but kept a few for later surprises. When she left the change room ready to buy, she had an armful of multicolored garments, lace and silk and cotton all mixed in.

Moxley stood behind her while the items were being scanned and bagged. He was happy to notice the strappy blue piece made the cut - she hadn’t let him see it on so it must be good.

“I’m going to rip that off of you with my teeth.” He claimed happily as he watched the piece being folded gently. Dani looked back at him in surprise while the cashier turned pink at the declaration.

“Stop it, that’s embarrassing.” Dani admonished with a gleam in her eye. “You’re my brother, you need to stop saying things like that.”

Mox sputtered as the cashier looked up in shock at the two of them. The poor woman quickly looked back down and focused on finishing the transaction. She took the credit card without looking either of them in the eye, running off as soon as she handed Dani her bags. Dani handed them off to a still shocked Moxley, who followed her dumbly out of the store.

“You okay back there?” Dani finally asked once they had passed a few stores, looking back over her shoulder at him.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” was the only thing he could think to say.

“I assumed I would.” She shrugged coyly as she slowed down to walk beside him.

“Tonight.” He promised.

“I’ll be the one in blue.”

[dontlookatmeitwashim]

The Truth Of Being a Hunter: One Shot

A Dean/Oc! Please reblog, leave a comment, even message me!! 

Dean never thought he would have a family. He never thought he would find out what it was like to be a father of his own children, never thought he would be married and in a suburban house. But he was glad for the family he got… he had a woman he loved, and she loved him, they had a beautiful baby boy that Dean adored.

The woman’s name was Rose Dawson, she wasn’t like a hunter like them, but she was a cop. The first time she and Dean met, they were in High School. Her dad was the sheriff and the Winchesters were always getting into trouble. The next time they bumped into each other was twenty years later, she was the new sheriff and they were in town for a case. Rose knew that there was something different about the brothers, so when she learned about hunting and all that goes bump in the night; she strangely took it well. It was after that that Dean made a point to always visit her between cases and pretty soon, one visit turned into her moving into the bunker and then turned into shopping for baby clothes.

Dean loved Rose with all his heart, she was that part of his heart that craved being normal and she gladly gave it to him. He loved that she never pushed about joining cases, but always ready for when he needs to come with them. He loved that she never looked at him differently, not even when he became a demon, not even when he volunteered to be the bomb that killed God’s sister, He loved that she was quick to comfort him, always knowing exactly what he needed. But most of all, he loved her because she brought his son into this world.

His son, Zeke Bobby Winchester was as smart as his mother but tough like his dad. He had Dean’s eyes, but Rose’s dark hair. He was a beautiful child, their perfect baby boy. Dean loved coming home to have his son grin at the sight of him and run towards him as fast as his small legs could. Dean would scoop him up in his arms and smother him in kisses, hugging him tightly; like it was going to be the last time that he was going to hold his child.

Then, of course, he always had Sam. His baby brother, the one person he knew that would always be there no matter what happened. Dean knew that if he had Sam beside him, he could handle anything that was thrust at him.

But Fate was a bitch and Death was unkind.

The first was Zeke. They were just watching a movie, laughing, smiling together. Zeke was at their feet, running around and playing when he just collapsed. Rose was the first to her feet, running to her son and picking him up in her arms. She tried to shake him awake, saying his name repeatedly. Tears streamed down her face as his eyes, his beautiful green eyes, stared up at nothing; his skin pale and lifeless. She cradled him in her chest, rocking back forth as she cried.

All Dean could do was hold her, hold her and try not to completely break down. He looked up at his brother and saw the tears roll down his face slowly, Sam’s eyes filled with sorrow. Dean watched as his brother pried Zeke’s dead body out of his mother’s arms. Rose became hysterical, Dean hand to lock her in an embrace, her face buried in his shoulder as she screamed.

The next day, they burned the body. It was strange, usually, Dean had someone to blame, someone he could focus on. But, Zeke died because of a tumor that was in his head and with Castiel gone? There was no bringing him back, so there they stood; watching his tiny little body turn into ash. Making God the only person the older hunter could blame.

The only sound was the fire crackling and Rose’s crying as she clutched her son’s favorite toy in her hands. It was the first toy that Dean had brought him; a stuffed koala. It broke Dean’s heart to see Rose the way she was, he tried to comfort her, but she wouldn’t have it. She was so lost in her own sadness that she wouldn’t talk to anyone, she only held onto that stuffed animal and stared at the walls of her son’s empty room. It was a month after the funeral did Rose just left, leaving Dean where he first started… with Sam.

It was months before he and Sam found Rose… in a cold morgue in her hometown. When Dean saw her cold, lifeless body lying in front of him; his world started to crumble. His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe and his eyes watered. Several tears fell from his cheeks as he tried to breath. He could feel Sam next to him, holding him up and trying to calm him down, but it wasn’t any use. Dean had gotten so used to Rose being the one to calm him down, to comfort him that his brother’s attempts were useless. Dean ran out of the building, holding his head as he screamed and cried.

The police said that she moved into her old house and went back to her old job. They said that she barely went home, always in her office drinking late and often crying. They said that she died from alcohol poisoning… Rose died heartbroken, alone and clutching that stuffed koala.

“Dean, you have to breathe!” Sam caught up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was completely terrified of the scene that was playing before him, he didn’t know what to do. Tears filled the younger brother’s eyes. “Dean, come on… I need you, okay? Because I don’t think I can handle all this by myself. I loved Rose and I loved Zeke with all my heart. I need you, Dean. Rose and Zeke wouldn’t want you to shut down…”

The hunter looked up at his brother’s eyes, still unable to breathe. He let out a choked on his tears before he grabbed Sam and hugged him tightly. It was the first time Sam had seen his older brother so distraught and that truly scared him. But, Dean took several deep breaths and stood up straight, wiping away his tears and getting back to business.

“Your right, let’s get going.”

They left the funeral to whatever family Rose had left in the town, deciding it wasn’t their place to attend. But that didn’t stop Dean from visiting her grave a week later with some red roses and tearful apology.

8888

It was only six months after Rose died and if Dean wasn’t completely heartbroken after that? He was now. Because now? He truly was alone. It was only a moment, a quick second and that was it. The last of Dean’s family was dead. He wished he could say it was to save the world, to put an end to demons and monsters for good…

But the truth was, Sam just didn’t see the gun being pointed at his head and within just a second, Sam was dead. There were no more deals with death, no more changing their fates and no more Castiel to bring them back. That was it… Sam was dead, and Dean was all alone.

After that, Dean didn’t want to do anything that dealt with monsters, angels or demons. He didn’t even want to live in the bunker anymore, so he packed up his stuff and left. He found a small town in northern California, bought a small cabin and tried to forget that he was all alone. Once and awhile, some demons would come knocking at his door, but Dean paid them no mind. He simply told them to leave before he made them leave.

As the years went on, angels and demons came by less and less until they stopped completely. Dean started to get used to the idea of being alone. He had given up on the world and trying to save it, he no longer wanted to be in the family business.

The locals in the town started to know him by name; Dean Smith, they would smile at him whenever he went into town. Some girls even tried to flirt, but Dean never returned the flatteries. He never could love another person again after all he lost…

Dean was finally pushing fifty and people started to call him an old man, the kids making up stories about how his old cabin was haunted or something and that he was a killer. They weren’t wrong about him being a killer, but they were wrong about the cabin being haunted, which always made Dean chuckle. But, their mothers didn’t know that. Their mothers were those young girls that would flirt with him all those years ago and they would scold their children, telling them about the heartbreaking story of how he lost his family in a fire. When he turned sixty, many of the locals called him Grandpa, several children coming to him and asking for him to play with them. It warmed his hard heart and he couldn’t help but accept their offer.  

Eighty-years-old, Dean no longer left his cabin. Many of the families in town would come and make sure he was comfortable and that he ate that day. Dean would think of them as friends, but he never once called them family. Even after all these years, the hunter couldn’t let anyone else into his heart… but there was one. A little boy, now twenty-five, that Dean was closer to than anyone else in the town.

His name was Henry Rickson. He reminded Dean so much of his own son that he couldn’t help but love him like one and Henry loved him like a grandfather. Henry was his shadow for the longest time, always wanting to know what he was doing, where he was going and if he could teach him how to do this or that. Dean couldn’t say no… but as the older, he got, the more he couldn’t do.

Death was at his door, he could feel it, so he called for Henry and he came.

“Hey there, old man.” Henry opened the door with a grin, his wife next to him as they entered the cabin that was his second home. “Hear you been asking for me?”

Dean grinned at the sight of him and nodded, motioning for them to come forward. “I just wanted to talk.”

Grabbing tow chairs, Henry and his wife sat beside his bed; Henry taking the old hunter’s hand in his. “Talk about what? You always have something to say, what is it this time?”

“Better watch your mouth, boy, or I’ll give you an ass whopping!” Dean laughed, which only ended up being a cough. He took a moment and cleared his throat and looked up at the couple, patting Henry’s hand. “Ugh, I’m getting old.”

“You are old.” The young man shot back with a smirk.

Nodding, the hunter sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought about his life, all the good and bad that happened in it. There were plenty of mistakes, ones that he will regret forever, but he had lived with them. “You're completely right... I think today is as good as any.”

“What do you mean?” Tonya asked beside her husband, looking concerned.

“Don’t worry.” He opened his eyes and smiled at the woman, then he looked over at Henry. The hunter squeezed his hand before sighing. “So, are you ready for me to answer the question you’ve been dying to know the answer to?”

Henry’s eyes immediately lit up and nodded his head. He scooted closer to the bed, smiling in anticipation. “You bet you wrinkly ass I am!”

Dean chuckled again and let go of his hand. The hunter reached over to his bedside table, opening a drawer slowly and getting out a medium-sized box. He held the box gingerly, like it was sacred, and closed his eyes. He could feel the tears behind his eyelids and he could feel death closing in. He looked over at Henry and Tonya and smiled.  

“I had a family. Not a traditional one that you're used to, but I had one. There was Bobby, the father I wished I had and John, the father I had but didn’t want. My mother who died early on in my life. Sam, my baby brother that I raised and protected no matter what. Castiel and Charlie, my adopted siblings and much more I considered family before them. Then there was Rose… mother of my child, the love of my life. All of them died long before I turned forty-five.” Henry couldn’t look away from the old man. Every word he said was etched with heartbreak, sorrow, and anguish. Just listening to him talk about them made him want to cry, but he swallowed the tears and let Dean continue. He watched as the old man slowly handed over the box to him, noticing the way Dean’s breathing became shallower. “Here, take this and don’t open it until you are back home with your family.”

Henry took the box and nodded slowly. He leaned over and placed a kiss at the top of the old man’s head, his wife following suit. “I’ll come by tomorrow, Dean.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it!” The old hunter laughed as he watched them leave.

The ride back to his family’s house was only ten minutes. But as he pulled up to the driveway of his childhood home, Henry hesitated. He looked down at the box and picked it up gently. His wife watched him cautiously, not about to stop him from opening the gift away from the view of his family. Swallowing hard, Henry lifted the box and there sat a stuffed koala. He picked up with extreme care, turning it over in his hands. It was obvious that the stuffed animal was decades old, but it was still in pretty good shape. That’s when he saw it… Sewn-on the foot was the phrase ‘To Zeke, Love Dad.’.

“His son’s name was Zeke…” Tears formed in his eyes, unable to stop them from falling. He felt his wife’s arm around him, holding his head to her chest. “He called me Zeke because I reminded him of his dead son!”

 8888

Back in the cabin, Dean was closer to death with every second, but as he looked around he couldn’t help but feel lonely. He looked over at his bedside table and smiled at the pictures of his family. They all looked so happy and alive in the pictures… he couldn’t wait to be with them again, but he knew that knowing his luck? Dean would never see them again.

“Dean.” A familiar voice called from the doorway, bringing the old man out from his thoughts.

Looking over to see who it was, Dean gasped when he saw the one person he never thought he would see again. “Cas?”

The angel nodded, his eyes sad as he looked around the room. He walked over to the bed, sitting in the chair that Henry once was sitting in. He was still looking around the room when he heard the sniffle. Castiel looked over and saw that Dean was crying. It was strange to see his friend so old, it wasn’t something Castiel was used to, but it was clear to see that this old man was Dean Winchester. “What’s wrong? I thought you would be happy to see me, though I am confused about why you are even here. I thought you would still be hunting.

“I gave up hunting decades ago.” The old hunter laughed, knowing he didn’t have much time left. “After Sammy died? I just didn’t see the point anymore. I just couldn’t keep hunting when all it did was take all those I care about.”

“I understand.” Castiel nodded, still confused about why his friend was still crying. “Then why do you cry?”

Dean smiled at the angel, missing him deeply, the old hunter took his friend hand and squeezed it lightly, seeing the reaper behind him. “Because I didn’t want to die alone.”

And just like that… Dean Winchester was gone.

8888

All he could see was white, but as soon as it came? It was gone. He looked around, seeing a beautiful living room and the sounds of laughing being cut off suddenly. Turning around slowly, the man gasped at the scene before him… there standing in the big living room was all the people he ever called family.

“Dean!”

Again, please reblog, leave a comment or even message me! I love hearing from you guys, it makes my day!

[makeup-wonder-woman]

A Soul Mate to Remember

Hello! This is the first chapter of my fic A Soul Mate to Remember! It’s a Soul Mate!AU and it’s for Jason Todd from Batman and mention the bat!fam.

TW: none

Please reblog and share, and feel free to give feed back. The original is posted on my fanfiction page, but it has to do with an OC named Asha, this one is in a different point of view. 

Y/N- Your Name

H/C- your hair color

Chapter 1

   You checked your closet again. Hoping that you could find the perfect dress out of all of them, but again, came up empty. So, you reluctently called your mother, who had just gotten off work,"Hello," her peppy voice picked up.

"I can't find a good dress for Uncle Greg's party. Can we go shopping?"

"Is all your homework done?"

  You sighed, having been in college, this question was strange and annoying, but always suited your mother hen,"Yes, and besides it's Friday."

   Your mother grumbled into the phone, before clearing her throat and saying,"Sure. We can go to the mall as soon as I get home and change."

You were flipping through the racks, waiting for something to catch your eye,"Why are we going again?"

 "Because your uncle has been promoted to a Colonel and they’re throwing a party for him."

A worker from the store pranced up, this being the second time for him to do so he asked,"You sure you're okay, Miss?"

Your mother and you both froze, and you swallowed,"Um, Yes," you pulled the dress that you were currently holding, some pretty little mint number,"Does this come in a medium?"

 The man scanned over the dress, looking completely unphased and checked the tag,"I'll check in the back."

 As he pranced away, you set the dress back and sighed, letting out the breath you hadn't known is been holding. Your mother set her hand on your shoulder,"Don't worry dear, you'll find them, eventually."

   You glanced down at your ankle, knowing full well what was hiding underneath your jeans. A script of somewhat legible cursive in maroon ink, that read, "You sure you're okay, Miss?" It was the first words your soul mate would say to you, appearing on your ankle at midnight they day you had turned 16. You had kept yourself awake that whole night until finally the clock struck midnight, and you had searched your body before finally finding it.

Thinking back on your behavior with the attendant, you laughed,"That wouldn't have worked anyway, that guy talked to us earlier."

Your mom giggled,"I know, but every time I hear someone even remotely say those words to you I get excited. Which happens far too often."

 "Not all of us can be lucky enough to have their soul mates names in their first words like you and dad."

Your mom smiled sadly, trying to sneak a glance at her wrist that has Hello, I’m James McDonald written in cursive, and green ink, that she now hid with brackets. Your mom quickly hid the glance with a roll of her eyes and as she pulled a purple gem toned dress from the rack,"I know, I know. But if those are their words to you, just think about yours to them."

  You giggled,"They might be having heart attacks if they work in the service industry."

 The man from before came back with the same mint dress from the rack in a size medium, which you gladly took with the previous three that you and your mother had both picked out,"Let's go try them on."

After trying them all on, your mother and you finally settling on the mint colored dress that fell about an inch above your knees, it was a tunic dress that took in details from a yukata or kimono. With sleeves that ended widely and the cross section at the chest. It was light, flowy and comfortable.

So, when Saturday rolled around, you paired it with black edges that had a zipper in the back and seemed to hug your feet. You straightened your H/C hair and put it in a bun, making sure to flesh it out tying socks around your pony tail and then wrapping your hair around it.

  Your mother smiled and popped a fake red rose into your bun, "You look beautiful, Honey."

 "Thank you mom." You put the finishing touches on your make up and did the clasp on a string of pearls that your Aunt and Uncle had gotten you last Christmas.

 The party would be held in a Suburb of Gotham, where your Uncle lived. The home was one that you had been plenty of times and visited often in your childhood. The backyard was only about half an acre but it was backed into a plot of land that held a creek going back into it. You smiled, thinking about all the times your Uncle, Dad and you would adventure back into it, and walk across the creek, by using a fallen tree trunk, that lead to a clearing. Right after the clearing was a small stretch of woods that entered into a small strip of drugstores, restaurants, electronic equipment stores and hair salons.

  Your mother held your hand as you entered, and you almost fell when paparazzi started flashing cameras at you. This was a small suburb, only twenty minutes of the city, no one famous lived out here, until a limo pulled up and the paparazzi abruptly left you and swarmed the limo.

  Your mouth fell open as the Wayne family exited, your mother pulling you along,"Come along dear, I'm sure they don't want us to stare."

"Why didn't you tell me the Waynes were gonna be here?"

 My mother sighed,"Well, I knew your uncle invited them, but I hadn't expected them to show up."

"Why did he invite them?"

"Contract work he had done for Mister Wayne. He claims that it was working with Mister Wayne that got him the connections to meet his rank."

  You sighed. Great. You gazed back over your shoulder, Mister Wayne stepped out of the car, followed by his wife. You entered your uncle's house, and you tried to forget about them, after all they were just people like you and mom.

[theunaccomplishedwriter]

Breaking the Surface - Chapter 3: Brown Eyed Girl

Wow, I did not expect this to go on for so long but I guess I had a lot to say this time around. Hope you all enjoy it and please don't forget to leave reviews, favourites and follow if you really like the story! It is all really appreciated! I do not own Sing or any of its characters. That's Illumination Entertainment's stuff. I just own my OCs.

Also you can read and follow this story on it on Fanfiction.net or A03. Please have a read, leave comments, like and reblog!

Grabbing his wallet and shoving all the money he could find and knew was his into it, Lance shoved the slightly bulging plastic into his jeans pocket and sped out of the apartment door. Checking his phone for the cheapest places and the bus routes, Lance luckily caught sight of the coach he needed, sprinting towards it and quickly handing the money to the tired looking crocodile bus driver. With that, Lance quickly moved to the nearest free seat, making sure to sit at an angle so save breaking his quills and making the seat look more like swiss cheese.

Right, if I'm doing this, I'm doing it properly Lance thought, beginning to rattle off mental to do list. First off, I need business cards. New business cards. Don't think many animals will want my old ones. The memories of how his old cards had not yet subsided. Every joint Lance had visited after what he was now terming 'Ashgate' all had various ways of rejecting him.

After showing the bar's, club's or pub's manager his card, his full name embossed on it with his contact details and intricate L shaped logo, the managers would look at the card and seemed to have several options at their disposal.

The first one would be to ask him to leave politely, which at the start was fairly common. Then they all appear to have a meeting after a few weeks and decided asking him to leave impolitely was the best course. After a month or two, they must have had group chat open to discuss the Lance problem as they started asking him to leave with some nice bouncers. This appeared to be the norm until after Ashgate where the managers all must have had a little chat on Skype as all their bouncers seemed to be far too keen on throwing him out of the door.

Finally, they must have really had his persistence and the fact that, unlike Becky, he wasn't seeming to be getting the message so a couple of months ago Lance was asked to leave for the last time in the most courteous manner possible by a pack of patrons, chasing him from the bar throwing bottles and glasses after him, before chasing him down the street hurling the most well intended slew of profanities.

They should write a book about that Lance mused. 5 Easy Steps to Get Rid of Unwanted Performers. Glancing out the window, Lance realised how perilously close he had come to daydreaming past his stop. Hitting the stop button and holding onto a metal bar as the vehicle lurched to a halt, Lance flung himself off, yelling back a sharp shout of thanks to the irritated driver, ignoring his angry comments and began following his phone to the first destination.

His phone indicating his arrival, Lance gave the shop a quick once over. It was a pleasant enough looking brick building, with a sweet, understated pink sign with the words pins 'n' things looking as if it was transposed directly from the owner's handwritten message to the sign makers.

Pushing the door aside, a little tinkle coming from the bell, Lance looked round the shop. It didn't look like a standard stationery store, all straight lines and lifeless, this had more of a feel of a knick-knack place, filled with knitting things, tiny ornaments, plant pots, teddy bears and other plushies, china tea sets that only grandmothers on TV own, as well as the eponymous pins.

A young warthog, ear pierced, jet black hair with a line of blue, and idly fiddling with her phone stood behind the counter, not even realising Lance's presence which was unsurprising to be fair, the shop being about as populated as the moon.

"Hey" Lance said, moving over to the counter. "You do business cards, right?"

"Yeah" the warthog said, her yes not leaving the phone as she continued to type away.

"Well can you get me some?" Lance said, a little irritated at being ignored.

"Sure" came the monotone response, her hooves still clacking away at the phone.

Lance's limited patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Today please!" Lance exclaimed.

The warthog finally looked over at Lance with slight annoyance.

"Alright, don't get your quills in a knot" she replied, putting her phone in her pocket. "You got a design or something?"

"Yes, here" Lance replied, pulling out a sheet of paper and tossing it onto the counter.

The warthog picked it up and have it a quick scan, her face already judging his work.

"Er, not too complicated. How many d'you need?"

"I guess fifty to start with, like a start pack you know, then I can come back for more."

"Sure, whatever" the warthog rudely replied. "They won't be ready for a while, come back in an hour or two."

"Sounds good. Later"

"Later yourself" she replied, she attention straight back to her phone as Lance left the teen in the all too happy surroundings.

Exiting the shop, still a bit miffed by the warthog's manner and making a metal note to catch her name next time, Lance started gently walking down the street, taking in his surroundings. What with all the daydreaming on the bus he had only just began to realise that he wasn't actually sure where he was. Not seeing a sign or anything, Lance checked his location on his phone, with it bringing up Apolovia, Anopolis.

Huh, not heard of it before. Lance had thought he'd gigged quite extensively round the city. He'd been in numerous places, went a load of places with Ash and Becky, seen a load of things. Lance was sure this was just an anomaly. But, searching on the maps of the city, Lance started seeing names and places he hadn't even heard of, let alone set foot in.

How do I live here three, nearly four years now and barely leave the city centre? I've barely scratched the fucking surface.

Groaning a little at his lack of exploration, Lance decided just to search for his next item on the to do list. A cheap music shop. He knew that most animals would have their own guitars to learn but Lance just knew that some might not be able to afford expensive equipment like that off the bat. Hell, he remembered saving up for his first guitar that wasn't bought for him. So something simple that most animals could use would be a huge boon for business, so long as he could get something for a reasonable price.

His phone eventually brought up something that reviews all raved about it's reasonable prices and, quite fortunately, it wasn't too far away so he didn't need the bus again. Setting it as his destination, Lance once again obediently followed the electronic female guide.

With time to kill before his cards would be ready, Lance's legs began to look mat this new area in a bit more depth, looking at everything with new eyes as if he were an intrepid explorer looking discovering a new land.

The buildings weren't anywhere near as sleek and modern as the ones he was used to in the city centre, the architecture of the area seeming to be at least half a century old. Every structure he passed seemed to show the tell-tale signs of age. The concave rooftiles trying to hide its bald spots with moss coverings, brickwork wrinkled and blemished, windows faded and unfocused. The pavement slabs were wonkily put together and the road with untreated potholes. It was if the very street itself had been through a traumatic accident and the surgery, while successful, could never restore it to its previous physical prime.

Yet, despite its age and ailments, the street breathed life through every pore. Each building, though showing its signs of wear and tear, were all painted in glorious technicolour, celebrating its age while embracing the new, each window filled high with weird and wonderful stock that differed spectacularly from one pane to the next. The road, despite its handicap, was packed with cars, buses, and lorries, all adding to the incoherently soundtrack, with the jammed packed with animals of all species and persuasions, making their way here, there and everywhere. The street, no, the entire district was buzzing with life.

Lance, taking this all in, marvelled at the stark contrast to the clinical city centre. Free of animals, the city centre was as sterile and silent as mortuary, without any semblance of the personality that it had been in the daylight hours of its life. Apolovia though, even one first glance, breathed life through every nook and cranny, roaring with sound, refusing to be silent, exuding energy from every particle of its being.

That's it Lance thought, his pace barely that of a snail's. The place's energy. The constant charge of something. That invisible electric feeling that meant that something, anything, was on the precipice of happening. It could be something momentous or minor, life changing or life ending, but no matter what it was, it was there, just in touching distance, the faint spark within touching distance, waiting for someone to grasp it and feel the surge of change.

And, for the briefest of moments, Lance felt the static possibilities against his paw tips.

Shaking himself from his thoughtful reverie, Lance returned his attention to his phone, resuming his march to the music shop.

After leaving the main road, swerving this way and that through the grid like streets, the artificial navigator finally announced that they had arrived. Looking up at the shop in front of him, Lance wasn't particularly impressed. From the outside at least, the bottom layer of what looked like an unused apartment building looked like a rundown nickel and dime sort of place, a dull and damaged neon sign that read Marv's Music hanging above the door. Posters of bands and albums were plastered all around the windows to such an extent that it looked more like a notice board than something to advertise what the shop was actually selling.

Looking away from the shop and taking in the street he was on, Lance felt that the shop could not be more out of place if it tried. Down the road was a chic café that, despite the beginnings of autumn chills that September brought, had a smattering of students sprawled around outside street side seating areas.

Giving them a quick once over, Lance could tell their type immediately. Reclining in the hardback chairs, sipping the remains of their espressos, probably conversing on some notion about the decadence and impotence of capitalism, all the while keeping their eyes glued to their Chinese made phones while sporting their Bangladeshi sweat shop shoes. Yep, those were first year students, all entitled and ill-informed. They'd learn things weren't so black and white soon.

Directly across the street there was a book shop that, by the look of it, was only remaining upright through sheer force of will, the rest of the building above it trying to squash it from existence. The windows were straining from the books piled up high against it, a thin line at the top letting in its ration of natural light, and a musty smell wafting out of its open front door that could be invaded Lance's nostrils despite standing on the other side of the street.

The owner, a studious badger, was clearly visible in the doorframe, sitting behind the counter, paying no mind to the porcupine looking at him from across the way nor the sole bibliophile in his shop, so thoroughly enraptured in his own tome, or at least as enraptured as you could be behind drooping eyelids.

Looking back over the way he came, Lance spied a vintage clothes shop he somehow neglected to notice on his way down. Glass House, the name just legible at Lance's angle, appeared to be a standard sort of store, full of fantastic wares at exorbitant prices.

I should know Lance mused; the punk look doesn't come cheap, especially for porcupines.

The owner, a black-backed jackal dressed in torn jeans and untucked lumberjack style cheque shirt, lent against the door frame whilst taking a drag on her cigarette. The few animals that walked past her shop instead of deigning to enter, all silently judging her carcinogenic habit, were met with eyes that screamed complete and utter indifference, as if she didn't care that they could possible patronise her shop, allowing them to walk away with their internal condemnations and bland apparel.

Eventually returning his gaze to the store in question, Lance gave out a sigh and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, a single word popped into Lance's mind. Instruments. The place was festooned with instruments. Crawling with instruments. Instruments up the bloody wall.

Violins and mandolins, saxophones and banjos, xylophones and oboes, acoustics and drum sticks, and electrics that verged upon being completely eccentric. Everything was shoved into corners, attached to the walls, and in some cases hung from the ceiling with cords. If you told Lance that someone had decided to store all the world's instruments into this pokey little shop, in that moment Lance would have believed them wholeheartedly. Lance was surprised there was actual floor space, let alone room to move without him sucking in his gut.

Negotiating his way through the crowded room, Lance eventually made his way to a small opening at the back, revealing a till with a large red door behind it, and to the right of it large set of stairs for the next layer of the store.

Bounding up the stairs, Lance took a quick look at the upper floor. If the bottom floor was where the tools of musical creation was kept, then upstairs was where inspiration was sought. In the era of digital downloads, this place seemed to be out of time. CDs were stored by the rack, cassettes bundled in baskets, vinyl resting in piles, some having been leafed through as many times as a librarian's secret erotic paperback delight.

Venturing up the stairs and taking in the many musical delights, Lance aimlessly flicked through everything on display. It had everything. You name it and it was there. Ray Charles. Ed Sheeran. Joan Jett & the Blackhearts. Dereck & the Dominos. Nirvana. The Animals. Santana. The Beastie Boys. The Beatles, together and solo. N.W.A. Tracy Chapman. Amy Winehouse. Queen. The Afghan Wings. Marvin Gaye. Spoon. Can. Joy Division. David Bowie. The lost went on and on and on.

Wandering to the back of the room Lance noticed a small room with a heavy black door, the paint slightly chipped away revealing its metal flesh. Shrugging his shoulders and pushing the door open, Lance jaw nearly dropped off. It was a soundproof booth. He'd seen them before but usually they were like telephone booths so you could stand and listen to terrible quality music in privacy with gunged up headphones. This however, hell it looked like a professional recording booth. It was big enough to fit a good group of animals in to all just rock out to whatever music they wanted to hear, with a huge touch screen of music embedded into the wall listing anything and everything.

Exiting the room and taking in the entire spectacle before him, Lance could only think one thing in self-chastisement.

How the hell have I never been in here before?

Eventually coming down a little from the musical high he was on, Lance made his way back downstairs. While his eye roved over everything around him, picturing himself playing anything and everything, Lance tried to keep his focus on guitars. Cheap guitars. Browsing their selection, Lance proceed to marvel a certain guitar, pick it up, feel the smooth wood in his fur, the metallic strings against his paws and worn-down claws, then catch a glimpse of the price before sullenly putting it back and repeating the process with the next one along. By the sixth guitar, Lance was beginning to believe that the reviews were something the owner put up himself to get animals through the door.

If this was the cheapest place to get a decent guitar then I might be stuffed Lance reflected.

"Lookin' for sumit?"

Jumping at the voice, Lance turned round quickly to face the source but quickly found nothing.

"Oi, down here!" the voice sounded, slightly exasperated now.

Looking down, Lance saw what appeared to be a middle-aged pine marten, his unblinking eyes staring up at him, his face set with the tired expression as if he had been unceremoniously woken up. His clothes reflected it, a shabby looking white t-shirt with a couple of splodges of what looked like jam and washed jeans that only held what appeared to be a vague memory of the blue they used to be.

Is this the owner? Lance questioned internally.

"So, you gonna speak or have I gotta get someone that speaks dumb-dumb?" the tiny mammal spat, his eyes looking with him a dollop of condescension.

Well that answers that question then.

"Er, yeah" Lance replied, finally finding his voice. "I'm starting to teach guitar and I need something in case the students don't have their own gear."

The pine marten gave him the once over, foot to head, as if examining whether this animal was worth the time of day or whether he should go back to whatever exciting activity he'd been up to. Under the mammals unflinching scrutiny Lance, for all his bravado, couldn't help but feel a little off centre, even if the guy barely came up to his chest.

After looking as though he was mulling something over in his head, the gecko eventually shook his head, blowing out air as if he were accepting a daunting challenge or quest.

"Alright. What sort of size you lookin' at?" came the unenthused reply.

"Oh erm…" Lance hesitated.

The gecko sighed loudly. "Size of guitar numbskull!"

"Hey! Back off short stack!" Lance growled, getting a bit pissed off with the guy's attitude.

"Make me Stripes!"

Stripes? Lance thought? Where'd he get Stri… He quickly looked over his stiped t-shirt, striped long shirt underneath and the brown and white stripes in his quills. How has not noticed that before?

Taking Lance pondering for submission, the pine marten appeared to calm down.

"Alright Stripes, so I'm guessin' you're pretty new to this shtick so, and tell me if I'm right, you need somethin' in case an animal doesn't have a guitar of their own so you can get them into lessons and scoop the cash off them. Am I right?"

Lance, surprised by the guy's ability to succinctly understand his reason for visiting, merely.

"Thought so. Alright, now we're getting' somewhere. I'm guessing acoustic and, by the look at you Stripes" the pine marten said, giving him an exaggerated look "I'm guessing something cheap." Lance fought to keep the scowl off his face as the pine marten moved over to the guitars.

Don't piss him off. This place is cool. You may want to come back. Just play nice, get the guitar, get out.

"So, if you're wantin' something basic and for most animals, my guess would be about your size. You don't get a lot of elephants rockin' out do you? Or mice for that matter. It's why I get to up the prices for overly large or my size guitars. Make a killin' out of it. Your size though? Not so much. So a medium good enough for now Stripes?"

"Stop calling me Stripes and just get me a damn guitar!" Lance retorted petulantly. The pine marten merely shrugged.

"Hey, you're the boss Stripes" he replied, before suddenly whipping out a ladder concealed in between the rows of guitars and swiftly ascending before climbing all over the hung guitars, hopping from one to another with agility a frog would envy.

Climbers, what d'you expect? Lance thought, watching the pine marten expertly navigate the instruments before returning to stare at the shop floor.

Wonder what else is hidden in this place Lance thought, looking around, the sheer scale of the operation within such a tiny space still boggling his mind.

Employee aside, this Marv guy knows his stuff.

"Hey, found you one! Looks better than you do!" the aforementioned employee called out. "Get ready to catch!"

"Catch? Catch wha - "

Before Lance had time to process anything else, Lance looked up to see a guitar sailing down towards him at a rate of knots. Half swearing, Lance reached up to the guitar on reflex, flexing backwards paws outstretched, only managing to stop the instrument's decent mere inches away from his face. and barely managed to catch it before the thing clattered with his face.

"Pff, that clo-oooh, ow!" Lance yelped, losing his balance and falling to the floor, the guitar slipping from his grasp and hitting his head with a musical thud.

"Hey, don't go breakin' my stock Stripes! Now get up off your ass, you're clutterin' up the place." the pine marten scolded, somehow now standing over Lance's prone form, barely holding the laugh in his gut.

"Come on, get up ya bum." He said, offering a paw.

"I'm fine" Lance said, rejecting the offer, the pine marten retracting the offer with a shrug.

"Warn me next time you're gonna do some crazy shit like that!" Nearly smashed my head in."

"Hey, it would have been an improvement! Now come on, time's money, what d'ya think?" he said, gesturing to his choice.

Picking up the downed guitar, Lance gave it the once over.

It had certainly seen better days. It looked like fourth if not fifth hand. The wooden body had a few scuff here and there, the headstock having a few notable scratches and looking like it had been attacked with a knife at one point on the right hand side, with a section of it missing revealing its dry interior. The once shiny frets were dull, but at least all remaining. The strings at least looked now, without the excessive wires hanging off the top like you see some guitars.

All in all, it seemed fairly standard. Nothing too fancy, a bit busted but he wasn't looking for perfection, just something playable. Lance moved his paw over the strings. Sliding it up the fret, thy let out a soft metallic whine, making his quills shiver

That's the good stuff Lance thought, his eyes closed in bliss.

"Hey! You buyin' it or askin' it out? I ain't got all day ya know?" the pine marten grumpily interrupted.

"Mind if I give it a go?" Lance asked, choosing to ignore his comment, though the message didn't seem to reach his face which was plastered with a disgruntled look.

"Sure, whatever. Just don't break a string or anythin'. Wait, actually do. Need to get rid of some out back. Been cloggin' up the place since God knows when."

Ignoring his belly-aching, Lance sat on the ladder step since a chair apparently being the one thing the shop didn't have stuffed into it.

Getting comfortable, Lance closed his eyes, trying to think of what to play, going through his own material in his head, thinking what would sound good acoustically.

It wasn't a long search, his self-penned sure-fire hits not being too numerous to begin with and, no matter how much Lance tried to convince himself, he couldn't shake the feeling that an amp was needed to make it sound good.

Whatever, I'll do something else Lance conceded, his paws already manoeuvring into the opening chords.

Starting to play, Lance felt a sensation come over him that he had not felt in a while, a comfortable sensation, as if slipping back into a well-worn coat. His paws and arms moving with practiced skill fluidly, his actions precise yet with a natural calm flow. He hummed gently, near inaudibly, the words never escaping his lips, his eyes closed, not even the song he was playing even reaching his ears. He just let it happen, let it all flow out of him in silence, as the guitar spoke his silent soliloquy.

With the last note played, Lance opened his eyes, his paws still holding down the last chord. Smiling gently to himself, Lance suddenly realised he hadn't actually heard himself play, which is kind of a no-no when you want to hear how a guitar sounds.

Looking up, he saw the pine marten staring back at him with an unusual expression. Gone was the slightly patronising look, his face now had an inquisitive look, his head slightly tiled, his previously tightly folded arms now loosened. He seemed to be meditating on something, his eyes looking at him, rather beyond him.

"So erm" Lance began, breaking the silence "seems alright, least you're not giving me something unplayable."

The pine marten remained silent, still looking at Lance as if he was some strange curiosity.

"Yeah…" he eventually replied, his tone lower and eyes narrowing "seems like it."

A moment silence befell the two. What's happening here? One minute he's all in your face the next he could be a living statue. What gives?

"Well!" the pine marten exclaimed, returning to his past exuberance "we got a sale then or what Stripes? I've got stuff to do ya know?"

"Sure, seems alright. And don't call me Stripes."

"Sure thing… playboy" the pine marten said, a smirk tugging at his lips, his fangs revealing a little.

Lance paused. "What did you just say?" the anger rising in his voice, his paw clenching.

"What? You think I don't know who you are Mr Lance, heartbreaker and this month's internet's most infamous coming up to three months running? I may be getting on but I'm not a total geezer yet. I still know how to do the Facetube's an everything." He mocked, the grin becoming a full-on smirk with hints of laughter in behind his words.

The anger was rising behind Lance's eyes, his grip on the guitar fret tightening, his quills quivering with rage. Yet the mustelid kept going.

"You wouldn't believe the amount of animals coming in here after that article came out. So many animals were pissed! I even had this one guy come in, alligator I think, saying if he ever saw you he'd be hard pressed to not rip you apart there and then with his teeth. And he was one of the milder ones!"

He let out a huge belly laugh, not even registering the darkness welling in Lance's eyes, his entire being shaking but his mind still restraining himself. He'd heard it all before and worse.

"God, I'd not seen anger like that in years! And here you are, the notorious Lance! God, if I went out there and yelled you were here, I don't think I could ever get this shop clean! Doubt the Police would bother though, not with your scrawny ass. Probably convince themselves it was self-defence or something. Or maybe suicide. Probably wouldn't even send your dear old mother a message saying her cheating little boy had copped it!"

With that Lance lunged forward, grabbing the pine marten by his collar and hoicked him up, bringing him level with his eyes.

"Shut. Your Mouth." Lance said with cool anger.

"Touched a nerve then? He replied, his voice without a trace of fear.

"More than touched you fucking oversized rodent." Lance spat, the bile rising in his throat.

"I've had enough of your shit. Now, you take back what you just said or you and this guitar and gonna have a bit of disagreement." The guitar was now raised above the mustelid's head, Lance eye's not leaving the pine marten's almost bored eyes.

"You think a threat's gonna work here? I've handled worse than you Stripes. You're not cracking the top ten here mate. Just put the guitar down, buy it and leave. We can pretend this never happened."

Lance anger began to slowly diminish, realisation creeping into his eyes, becoming acutely conscious of precisely what he was doing.

"Okay, maybe I overstepped the mark a bit but, considerin' your reputation right now, d'you wanna add beating up a mammal half your size and twice your age to that? I mean, come on. You're dumb, but not that dumb."

Lance relaxed, the guitar slowly falling to his side and gently putting the mammals down, shame creeping into his mind and trickling down his face.

"Sorry" Lance mumbled, his voice thick with remorse.

"S'alright." He replied, fixing his crumpled shirt. "We both went a bit too far there."

"No shit Sherlock" Lance replied.

"Yeah, just get so into ribbing animals I sometimes I forget to get to know their limits first. Anyway, we'll draw a line under it. Not mention it again, 'kay?"

"Sounds like a good idea." Lance replied, a faint smile appearing for the amnesty.

"How 'bout we start over? You know, pretend like you've just walked in and we'll both act all professional and shit."

Lance let out a little chuckle and extended a paw. "Sure. I'm Lance, guitar teacher to be, rock star in the making and social pariah. Nice to meet you."

Giving a genuine smile, the mammal took his paw and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you Lance. Marv Parten. Music store owner, mouthy git and fashion trendsetter."

Lance laughed now with Marv joining him, the tensions evaporating as the cries of joy reverberated off the instruments.

Leaving the shop, Marv called out to the now forty dollars lighter Lance.

"Great doing business with ya Lance! Come again, maybe we can make this a weekly thing?"

"Sure thing Marv, you daft bugger." Lance jovially replied, earning a laugh from him before the door clanged shut.

Readjusting the case strapped to his back, hoping it didn't damage his quills to badly, Lance began to walk back to the stationary store, his mood brightened a little after the initially awkward exchange.

Now just to get those cards and you can head on home and slob out like you intended with the day Lance though, hitching the case again as he re-entered the busy main road of Apolovia.

Smiling at the thought, Lance entered pins 'n' things with renewed vigour. The warthog smiled as he entered and handed him his finished business cards in a little plastic case. Lance even managed a half-genuine smile and thanked the warthog for her help and handed another load of cash.

After briefly dealing with the unhelpful warthog, Lance was now leaning his shoulder against the wall outside pins 'n' things looking at his new business cards. They looked pretty damn professional if he did say so himself. No loud emblems or outrageous designs, just plain white card with a serious looking type face that read:

Mr Morgan's Guitar Lessons

Flexible Work Schedule

Teaches Beginners to Advanced

All ages, sizes and species welcome

Please message for inquiries

And with that Lance had left his email and address below, but decided at the last minute to forgo giving out his phone number. Who can't send emails on their phones? Lance reasoned, as well as the fact he didn't want animals spamming his phone and didn't feel like dealing with a personal and business phone, especially if the amount of animals wanting to skin him alive were true from what Marv had said. It was why it was Mr Morgan as well. No first names. Just business. No drama.

His lips curling in approval at his shrewdness, Lance pushed off the building and span round to head to the bus stop.

Sofa slouching here I – oof!

As he whriled round, Lance clattered into a furry blur, spinning the fuzzy obstacle to the ground while Lance let out a surprised grunt and dropped the card to the ground before the exploded out of their case and fluttered away like dandelion seeds all around him.

The irrational anger that comes free with such unfortunate incidents filled Lance's core, causing him to spin round ready for an argument, to hell with his apparent ill reputation.

"Hey! Watch where the hell you're go…"

Looking at the prone form on the ground, Lance's anger came to an abrupt halt.

Collapsed on the ground was a young raccoon who, even from a rear view, looked as if she had seen better days. She was wearing a long dark green sweater with the common criss-cross pattern, the arms trailing over her paws and looking threadbare and frayed at the edges. Her jeans looked as though they had last been in the washing machine four years ago, if the stains, rips, the fact they finished in the middle of her shin and came with an unnecessarily tight look was anything to go by.

Her scuffed shoes weren't any better. The right one looked as it was barely clinging to life and the left one looked as if it was being held together with a rubber band. Her striped tail looked near entirely black, with the amount of grime and soot clinging to the fur. The rest of her fur looked like it hadn't been groomed or washed in that day, or week. It stuck out in odd places and had a slightly greasy look, as if she had just rubbed herself in fast food.

Seeing this spectacle Lance's concerns about his cards withered and died as, after the initial shock, Lance dropped down to help her up. Taking her sleeved paw, he gently helped her up, the raccoon giving little winces as she did. Setting her up on her unsteady feet, the girl kept her head down, as if afraid to meet Lance's gaze.

"Hey, are you alright?" Lance asked, gently touching her shoulder.

Instinctively recoiling from the touch, the raccoon's face shot up and her eyes met his so quickly and piercingly that Lance couldn't help but be a little shocked.

Her deep, wavering brown eyes looked at him with confusion and a little notion of fear clinging around the irises. Her face went taut and her ears immediately pinned themselves back to her skull. She was like a deer in highlights. Completely frozen, waiting for some inevitable fate to befall her.

"Hey, I'm not going hurt or anything, okay? I just want to know you're alright." Lance said softly, holding his paws up placatively.

The raccoon, gaining some semblance of awareness, the raccoon nervously looked around, taking in the scene.

"Hey, you o -"

Before Lance could even finish his sentence, the raccoon turned tail and started sprinting away as if fleeing a crime scene, bumping into animals as she went, causing jeers of annoyance as she made her escape.

"Hey, wait!" Lance called out, but too late as the surprisingly speedy procyonid zipped around a corner and out of sight, leaving Lance with his arm outstretched in a moment of genuine concern.

Lowering his arm, Lance began collecting his cards that remained strewn on the floor. Fortunately, there hadn't been any wind blowing around and the animals moved round the disturbed area, allowing Lance managed to scavenge most, if not all, of the cards off the concrete.

Popping the last few up into the plastic case after a couple of minutes, Lance noticed something in his periphery. A small brown case. Curious, Lance went over, picking up the light object. It was a wallet; the small pattern-less container was scuffed, with the brand's name worn off from years of continuous use.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lance opened up the wallet. No cash, but the wallet was packed full of receipts. Snarlbucks, Dragon's Coffee Wagon, Queen Bee Tea. Whoever it is, they sure like caffeine Lance chuckled to himself.

Slipping to the card holders, it was completely barren. No credit cards, debit cards, loyalty cards, membership cards, nothing.

Guess I might as well bin it Lance thought. It's only got rubbish in it so it might as well join the rest.

Looking over to a nearby bin, Lance went to lob the wallet in, already getting the basketball commentary in his head, before a small piece of plastic fell out of one of the tears in the wallet, spinning to the ground.

Picking up the white plastic, Lance turned it over to inspect it. It was a provisional driver's licence with the unemotional face of the raccoon he had just bumped into. She looked better in the photo. Her fur didn't look greasy, her eyes unemotional but unafraid, her ears slightly perked up, there was even a faint hint of a smile. She looked nice. Pretty, even. Much better than she was a few minutes ago.

Looking over the licence, Lance saw her details. There wasn't much to see, a lot of it having scratch marks that obscured most writing. Only one piece remained barely legible and, thank fully, it was the address: 754 Senna Row, Paneris, Anopolis.

Quickly putting the address into maps, the route popped into view. It wasn't too far, about a ten-minute walk or so. Lance shrugged the guitar case to a more comfortable position, his quills beginning to hate the case, before making his way towards the raccoon's home

To say that the quality of housing declined the closer he got to Senna Row was a bit of an understatement. More like it took a nosedive into the fiery pits of Hades.

From the delightful stone and brick buildings of Apolovia, by the time he reached Paneris the stone structures had been replaced with shabby wooden shacks. They were worn and dilapidated, with a pervading smell of rot and damp circulating the entire area that no amount of conscious effort could blot out.

Instead of the hustle and bustle where animals were everywhere and celebratory noise was a constant, unsettling silence hung heavy through this district, only punctuated by the occasional shout or scream in the distance. A few teenage mammals hung around chain link fences, smoking a shared cigarette and giving Lance looks as if they were marking their next hit. Lance avoided their gaze, but kept his eyes steady, puffing his chest out slightly and walking with slight exaggerated confidence. He knew these sorts of places and how to carry himself.

Looking weak and lost was just asking to be called out and possibly beaten up and mugged. Lance had had his fair share of it when he first came to Anopolis. He had learned how to exude confidence and machismo prior to his arrival, but being in areas like this help drive the point home of it being a 24/7 kind of thing, something that helped to make animals think twice about approaching him on the streets, but also somehow managed to help him persuade managers to give him gigs. Well, it used to help.

Sweeping his memories away, Lance's phone finally buzzed that he had reached his destination. Looking up at the house, Lance could see why the raccoon looked the way she did. The place was a dump even by the area's standards.

The roof looked like it was about the cave in at any second, the windows were either smashed or boarded up, the wooden boards looked like it was on the verge of disintegrating. God knows how animals managed to walk on the porch. There were a pile of papers and letters clumped together by the door, as if the postman had given up trying to push them through the letterbox. Weeds were even growing up through the porch and climbing up the building, as they had already taken over the front garden and path.

They're probably the only thing keeping the house standing.

Lance started to wonder whether it was worth going up to the house. There didn't seem to be anyone home, but then again, he doubted that the house had any electricity, or they couldn't afford to pay their bills without a ton of benefits. Suddenly Lance felt lucky that Becky was even giving him a chance to stay in her comparatively luxurious apartment.

I could be in somewhere like this again so easily Lance thought. No Lance, it's not going to happen. You're talented and everyone is going to see it. You'll be living in the lap of luxury and this'll all be just a distant memory.

Emboldened, Lance walked up the porch and knocked on the door.

No response.

Okay, try again.

Still nothing.

Lance knocked a bit louder.

The house or its occupants weren't seeming to be getting the message.

One more try and I go.

With Lance' paw raised, the door cracked open, with a dark brown eye peering out at him, a slice of a face looking out at him.

"Oh erm, hi." Lance started, nervously waving his paw. "Sorry for erm, disturbing you and all that but erm, you er, you dropped this."

Lance pulled the wallet out of his pocket, holding it up to the peeping eye. The eye, widening slightly, before darting between the wallet and its temporary keeper, slowly shut the door. Hearing a rustle and clunks of a chains, bolts and locks, the raccoon finally came out, leaving the door ever so slightly ajar behind her.

She had cleaned up a little, her fur looking a bit more groomed with most of the sticking out parts having been addressed, but her fur still retained that slightly oily look and her clothes were unchanged.

Standing there, her head kept down, she plucked at her green sleeves in embarrassment, her paws still hidden within them. She stood in complete deference to Lance, her body language fragile but compliant, as if she were clay for his to mould. It slightly unnerved Lance. He was here to return a lost item and she was looking as if he was about to march her down to police station.

"Sorry, I had to go through to find out it was yours." Lance began, incredibly uncomfortable with her demeanour, holding the wallet out for her.

Her had remaining hung, her paw finally raised up and emerged from its green cocoon. She gently grasped it and, in controlled movements, brought into both her paws, her eyes impassively looking it over.

"I think er, everything there. I checked all around to see if anything fell out but I think it's all there." As little as that is Lance noted.

Autumn remained silent, but nodded slightly, as if taking Lance's word for it. A few awkward seconds of silence passed with Lance uncertain how to leave.

Should I wait for her to say something? She doesn't look while she's about to say anything. Maybe I should just go. But won't that seem rude? Wait, why am I thinking all this over? I did the good deed. Well done Lance. Now just get out of here.

"Erm, look so er, I just wanted to bring this back to you and er, make sure you were, you know, alright and everything. You took quite a tumble back there and I thought you'd hurt yourself. I may not be, you know, everyone's favourite guy right now but I'm er, you know, I'm glad that you're er, well…" Lance rambled, waving his paws as if to finish his eloquent speech.

She was looking up at him now, her eyes a mixture of confusion and something Lance couldn't quite put his paw on. Resentment for his pity? Trepidation for this weird bumbling mammal? Curiosity for… the same reason? Lance wasn't sure but by the look of her, he had probably outstayed his welcome.

"So er, since I can see you're erm, fine and all that I'll just get going. Don't want to, you know, keep you longer than you need. So er, I'll be seeing you then." Lance mumbled, starting to back away his mind kicking himself for his awkwardness.

"You like music?"

The question had come out so quietly that had Lance turned his head ever so slightly further away he may never have heard it.

Her voice was wispy and fragile, as if it could be shattered forever if it dared go up a single octave more. It was weak and shaky, as if she was completely unpractised at the art of merely speaking.

Looking back, she saw that the racoon's arm was outstretched, pointing at the guitar case, previously obscured by his quills.

"Oh erm, yeah. I like music." Lance said. "D'you erm, d'you like music?"

The racoon nodded, her face still not looking up at him.

"Oh erm, what d'you like?" Lance asked, unsure whether he'd get an answer and as to the point of asking anyway.

The raccoon seemed to take a moment to think about it, before shrugging noncommittally.

"Come on" Lance began, growing a little more confident. "You must like something. R&B? Jazz? Blues? Soul? Punk? Pop? Rock?"

Again, the raccoon seemed to process the question, shifting her feet a little as she thought about it.

"I… I like… most things."

Lance nodded. Better than nothing at all I guess. Silence fell between them once again, the raccoon clearly looking a bit awkward about having spoken so much with Lance still looking for an out of this stilted conversation.

"Look erm, I'm glad you're alright and all and erm, hold on."

Lance rummaged in his pockets before pulling out the card container, quickly opening it up and held it out to the girl. She looked at it quizzically, before taking it in her free paw, reading over the text.

"I teach guitar. Just started actually so, you know, if you wanna place some of those 'most thing' then er, drop me a line sometime, 'kay?" Lance said, once again moving away down the porch steps.

"I don't have email." the racoon called out, her voice straining a little.

"Sorry what?" Lance replied, turning back, his escape thwarted once more.

"I don't have email." she repeats, a little quieter and more comfortable.

"Oh." That's all Lance could think to say. Who the hell doesn't have email?

"Like at all or?"

She shook her head.

"Not even on your phone?"

The raccoon let out a soft snort, shaking her head before fishing around in her tattered jeans pocket. Sliding it out, she revealed a dark blue brick phone with a tiny scratched screen and massive buttons. It looked as if it had been handed down, thrown about, dropped down the loo, and hit several times with a blunt object before it managed to get into her paws.

Jesus, I didn't think animals still had those Lance though. Well, there goes my no phone number idea. Shit, I'll have to fork out for new cards!

"Oh, right. Erm, well I guess I could give you my number."

Lance pulled out his phone and read out the number as the raccoon slowly put it into her phone, holding the phone's dull screen to Lance to make sure she had it right.

"Yeah, that's it. Just give me a ring if you want to have a go or whatever."

The raccoon nodded, a bit more certain in her movements.

"How much is it?" came her voice again, with a slightly serious tone.

"Oh erm…" Lance began, but then he looked at the raccoon. He looked at her face. Her clothes. Her house behind her. Truth be told, he was thinking about 30 dollars a session, that way he could rack up some good cash if he got a few students. But looking at her, how empty her wallet was, how run down her house was, Lance did something that a few months ago he would never conceive of doing.

"Er, the first session's free then it'll be like 10 dollars or something." Lance tilted his head down, a little embarrassed at giving what he felt was a handout to her. "Does… does that sound alright?"

Looking up briefly, Lance saw a sudden flicker of light appeared in her eyes. It was brief, but it was there. A moment that took her out of her continuously sad complexion. Lance grinned a little. Wait, why am I happy? I just knocked down the price stupidly! What the hell am I gonna –

"That sounds good."

Raising his head up again, Lance thought he spied a smile. It was faint, barely registering at all, but it was there. A tiny smile and her face brightening up a bit. She looked like a different mammal for a moment, albeit a fleeting one.

"Cool" Lance mumbled, attempting to shake himself of his stray thoughts and making his way to the porch steps once more. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"I wasn't trying anything."

Lance paused. The tone coming from the raccoon was harder this time, as if trying to defend herself. Even her body language become stiffer, m ore determined.

"What d'you mean?" Lance asked, slightly puzzled.

"I wasn't trying anything before."

What's she on about? Lance couldn't help thinking, the confusion spreading to his voice.

"Try what?"

The second denial seemed to flummox the raccoon. She looked at him now, her deep brown eyes staring at him as if he were some exotic, almost alien, curio.

Lance was befuddled too. What on earth is she going on about? Trying something? The hell could she try to do? There's nothing of her.

"I er, you know," she started, uncertainty at her own words becoming evident. "When I bumped into you. Back there. I wasn't, you know, trying anything… sketchy." she trailed off, seeming to need a minute after speaking so much.

"Erm, yeah sure" Lance agreed, still not understanding. "Whatever, but seriously, there's nothing to apologise for." Lance said with a shrug of his shoulders.

The raccoon smiled for a brief second, before diving her paw into her jeans pocket and prising some green notes out of it, proffering it to the porcupine.

"Erm, what's this?" Lance asked, the situation getting more confusing by the second.

Stepping forward, she shoved something into his paw. Opening it up, it revealed some crumpled notes. There wasn't a lot there, maybe eight dollars and a barely twenty cents change.

"For the wallet. Sorry it's not much." She mumbled, before walking away, leaving Lance a little shocked.

Without even thinking, Lance grabbed the raccoon's green sleeve halting her in her place, a look of fear coming into her eyes.

"I don't know who or what you think I am but I am not taking this." Lance stated flatly.

Thinking on it, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do as the raccoon was staring at his paw, still gripping the faded green fivers of her jumper. Lance quickly realised what this was starting to look like and quickly released her.

"Sorry, it's just I can't take this."

"You have to." She responded matter of factly.

"For what? Returning your wallet? I'm not taking it." Lance scoffed.

Her eyes narrowed, a grim look coming into the pupils.

"I have to pay you back." She said in a measured tone, her eyes finally meeting his. They were cold, demanding, yet somehow also pleading with him to let her pay him back.

Looking back down at his paw, the notes still scrunched up Lance couldn't help but feel torn. He did need the money, even with Becky as a lifeline she wasn't going to keep giving him handouts whenever he needed it. That was the whole point of getting a job. But, this was her money. Probably all the money she had. She needed it more. And yet here she was, handing it all over to pay some self-created debt? He couldn't just give her the money back. It'd be insulting. She was trying to do right and for him to spurn her money was essentially saying, I don't need your money. Not from you and where you're from. Lance sighed.

I'm probably going to regret this…

"Alright, I'll take… a dollar" Lance began.

Her mouth jolted open in protest, but Lance managed to hump in before she could give voice to it.

"Wait a sec! I'm going to take a dollar. I probably need it to make up my bus fare. I don't need any more than that so you're actually really helping me here. But seriously, you don't need to reward me for bringing you your wallet. I'm just honestly glad you're alright after the tumble you took. You really smashed into the floor."

"That's not enough" Autumn sighed. "I need to pay the debt."

Lance repressed a groan. Seriously, what do I have to do to get this bloody raccoon to call it quits!

"Okay, how about this. You know those guitar lessons? You have to go to them now." Lance said, determined to finish the issue once and for all.

"You can do four sessions okay? That's 40 dollars. You'll have paid me back and then some, though I still have no idea what exactly you're paying me back for. So that's four sessions plus the freebie. Five sessions in all. Sound good?"

A pause. Lance looked into her eyes, trying to as serious with her as possible. Her eyes slightly twitching as she thought it over, she let out a sigh.

"That, that sounds… fair."

"Finally!" Lance breathily exhaled, before taking one dollar his paw and handing back the rest.

"So…we good now?"

The raccoon looked at the money before pocketing it and nodding.

"Great. Now, when d'you want me to come down here for our first lesson?"

The raccoon cocked her head in confusion, ear titing to the side as she did so.

Huh, that's kinda cute Lance thought, internally chucking at her bemused face.

"You know, to do the lessons?" Lance said, slightly patronisingly. "When are you free? I can get down here in about forty minutes from mine so –"

"You can't do it here!" The panic was apparent in her voice, taking Lance a bit by surprise.

"I er," she backpedalled, the cogs of her mind clearly showing on her face "I mean er, my dad, he works from home so er, it wouldn't be… I don't want to erm, er, disturb him."

Sure, works from home. I believe that. Lance thought, believing it about as much as he believed in the hairless ape conspiracy. Yet, with her reaction, Lance doubted he'd change her mind. Plus he didn't really fancy coming back here again if he could avoid it.

"Alright then. Wouldn't want to disturb the hardworking father now, would we?"

"No, no… we wouldn't." Autumn said sullenly, rubbing her arm slightly.

"Do you er, have somewhere we could do this? Your place or something?"

"My place?" Lance said, rubbing his chin.

What the hell would Becky say, bringing unknown animals to her, our, flat? Well, it would only be one animal and she seems harmless enough. Needs a wash but harmless. I think I can smooth this over. Besides, a pupil on day one? Yeah, I bet I can swing this. Say it's only for this one. Bet I can think of a reason. The others I'll go to their houses. Yeah, I bet I can swing this.

"Yeah, sure" Lance finally replied. "Just got to make sure it's okay with my girlfriend first but should be. I'll text you when I know. Oh er, send me a text so I've got your number."

"Okay" came the slightly warm reply, before she took out her phone and rapidly text a message for Lance.

A couple of seconds passed before the familiar text tone rang out on Lance's phone. Pulling it out of his pocket, he gave a cursory glance at the message not bothering to read the message.

"Yeah, just got it. I'll let you know as soon as I know, okay?" Lance said, pocketing the phone again and readjusting the bag once again, with it becoming quite uncomfortable on his quills.

"Mm-hmm." She nodded before noise came from inside the house.

"Er, that'll be er, my dad. I gotta go." The raccoon said, before quietly walking back into her house.

"Bye then." Lance replied, before turning away from the tumbledown house and quickly making his way through the rough estate, his mind no longer focused on his surroundings. Indeed, he didn't begin to recognise where he was until he had made it back to Apolovia and was sitting on the bus heading back home.

Well, at least it's a start. Lance's mind began. Cheap start but it's a start. Can't do that with everyone Lance. You're not a charity case. You need their money. That's all. You're not out to help every poor animal you see. You're here to make money, get gigs, get successful, be a rock star. You and no-one else. You don't need anybody else. You are all you need. Everyone else is just stopping you from being famous. Everyone else is belittling your talent. Talent that no-one else has. Stop being such a sap and get on with what you're meant to be doing.

By the end of the bus journey, Lance was feeling a bit annoyed with himself. Feeling his phone in his jeans pocket, he mulled over whether he should just cancel her sessions. Sure, it would be a student lost, but if she couldn't stump up the full fee then what was the point of her coming? He needed to make money and the time he'd be teaching her, he could be teaching someone else for treble the price, not to mention the free session where he'd make diddly squat!

With his mind made up, he grabbed his phone, ready to call it all off.

Clicking the circle button, the phone flashed to life, with a short message popping up in a little white box.

Thank you, Mr Morgan. For being nice. I look forward to the lessons. Autumn Larkin

Staring at the message, Lance couldn't hold back a smile.

Me? Nice? Does she not know who I am? Heartbreaker extraordinaire? Public Enemy Number 1? Wait, Mr Morgan? Doesn't she know me? Wait, maybe she doesn't. I didn't say my 's not on the cards. She says she doesn't have email, hell she may not have internet if she doesn't have email. She, she really may not know who I am. Maybe the only animal in Anopolis not to know. And she said I was nice…

Lance mulled over that. No-one had called him nice in a while, let alone say he had made someone's day. Not even Becky. Thinking back, Ash was probably the last one to say anything like that to him, but that was years ago when their relationship was still young and untainted by Ash's constant attempts to upstage him and ruin his shows.

Looking back at his phone, he re-read the message. Autumn Larkin, huh? That's a nice name he thought, a little smile creeping on his face. Lance quickly saved her in his contacts. His smiled remained on his face, his mind drifting back to the nice comment, leaving him surprisingly content for the rest of the journey.

The bus reaching his stop, Lance stepped off with the smile still plastered on his face. Finally getting back into the apartment, Lance dumped the guitar in the corner and adjusting his quills, vowing to carry the guitar in his paw from now on.

He had a quick look over the room and, as if realising it for the first time, saw how much of a mess it was.

God, have I been living like this? Lance thought. Lance checked his phone for the time. Quarter past three. Still got time Lance thought. In an inexplicably good mood for the first time in a while, Lance headed out the door.

A few hours later, Becky returned home, expecting to see Lance still glued to the sofa with crumbs all around him and maybe a half empty lukewarm pizza left out for her as had become the norm over the last few months. What she wasn't expecting was the sweet aroma of the food being cooked.

Instead of being implanted into the settee, Lance was in the kitchen cooking. With the cooker. With actual food. And spices. Spices! To say that Becky was agog was understatement. Her jaw had near enough dropped to the floor, nearly joining her handbag which fell to the fall, the contents scattering across the floor.

"Oh, hey Becky!" Lance said cheerily, before coming over and giving her a sweet peck on the check before moving back over to monitor the stir fry he was in the middle of cooking.

"You're… you're cooking?" Becky said, her gaze barely moving away from the weird apparition in front of her.

"Yep! Making Synth Chicken Stir Fry! Must admit, never really thought about getting synth meat. Just always seemed a bit wrong and veggies are just so good! But I was getting some shopping earlier and this butcher guy said I should give it a go. Totally fine for herbivores and not to listen to the scary stories. So I thought, why the hell why not? Don't knock it before you try it, or at least that's what the guy said."

Becky stood there, trying to take everything in. Lance was in a good mood. He was in the kitchen not for snacks or alcohol. He seemed sober, at least she couldn't smell the usual Glenfiddich or Johnnie Walker Red on him. He was smiling. Smiling! So Becky did the only thing she could.

"But you're…you're cooking?" Becky repeated.

"Yeah, kind of missed it actually. Should do it more often. Got started pretty much after I hoovered and everything."

"You vacuumed?!" Becky's mind was awhirl with all the possibilities of what had happened to Lance between leaving this morning and coming home. Body snatcher? Aliens? That stupid she made on a start last month coming true? All the while the oblivious Lance kept cooking, adding homemade sauce to the delicious smelling Chinese concoction.

"Hey, this nearly done so d'you wanna get out your work clothes? I'll plate up in a sec." Lance smiled, happily finishing off the meal.

Still in a state of shock, Becky went off to the bedroom and automatically changed out of her work clothes and got into something more comfortable. Sitting at the table, a glass of wine already poured for her, Becky looked over the meal that Lance plated up for her. It looked delicious. The smell was intoxicating. She stabbed one of the synth chicken pieces and quickly popping it in her mouth. It was gorgeous. Tasting the wine. A perfect match for the meal.

Sitting down, Lance started on his own meal before looking up at the still stunned Becky.

"So how was your day?" Lance asked in between mouthfuls.

Boyfriend asking about her day? Perfect. This is what she'd been yearning for for what felt like an age. Finally, everything was seeming right in their relationship.

And it all felt so, so wrong.

"Okay, what the hell is going on Lance?!" Becky roared, the damn finally bursting, unable to contain herself any longer.

Lance looked up, a bit in shock at the sudden rage.

"What d'you mean babe?"

"Babe? BABE! I'll give you babe minute!" Becky screamed, standing on the breakfast table's high stool.

"Whoa! Calm down, what have I done Becky?" Lance asked, confusion filling up in his eyes.

"Exactly! What have you done Lance? I leave this morning and you look like something that's been scraped off the bottom of truck on the freeway and I come back home and you're playing Mr Perfect Boyfriend! The hell happened Lance! You win some money? Got a record contract? Having an affair?"

"No, I have not!" Lance interrupted, feeling this was going too far into sensitive territory.

"Oh my God you are having an affair!" Becky wailed, jumping off the stool and backing away from him.

"What?!" Lance cried incredulously. "The hell d'you get that from?"

"You only denied that one so it must be what you're doing!" Becky yelled, starting to get a bit hysterical.

"Okay, back up here! I have not, nor will ever again, cheat on anyone! I've done that once and it wasn't pretty. Hell, we didn't even kiss!"

"You went to kiss her?!"

"I'm talking about you ya dingbat! D'you not remember the whole us getting kicked out my apartment when Ash turned up?" Lance shot back, getting a bit heated now at the unfounded insinuations.

"Then what then?! What's this all about?! 'Cos if you don't tell me the truth right now then so help me God -"

"I GOT A JOB BECKY! HAPPY? I GOT A FREAKING JOB!" Lance yelled, his voice rumbling out of him like an almighty thunderstorm.

Becky's face was a picture. It was if all the anger got gut punched out of her. Her trembling fury was replaced by a still incomprehension.

"You… you what?" Becky managed to say.

"I got a job okay? I… I took your advice and looked for work." Lance said, forcing calmness into his voice.

They remained silent for a while, letting the tension in the air hang for a moment, the heat of the argument leaving both Lance and Becky breathing heavily, as if they had been out for a marathon.

As if instinctual, both Lance and Becky made their way to the sofa, sitting at opposite ends, not quite ready to be close just yet after such explosions of anger.

"So" Becky began, trying to keep a conciliatory tone "what job is it then?"

"I'm er, gonna be a private music teacher. A tutor really." Lance said quietly, keeping his head down, not daring to look at Becky directly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new card he put there in preparation of his big reveal.

Becky looked it over. It was the same as the previous one but now with a phone number she did not recognise.

"I got a cheap pay as you go phone." Lance commented, seeing her confusion. "Just for business. Only does texts and calls. Everything else will go to my emails which I'll still have on my normal phone."

Lance pulled out his new, well new to him, work phone. It was an older model but looked in good nick. It wasn't a touch screen or anything but it looked like it could so the basics.

"I'm gonna start handing these cards out tomorrow. Put them anywhere that'll take them. Hopefully they'll be okay with a Mr Morgan teaching them than the infamous Lance."

Becky tapped the card against her paw, as if considering something. Lance glanced up to her face. She seemed to be contemplating what he was saying. The anger had gone now, she was just thinking. Going over what he was saying over in her mind.

At least she's hearing me out Lance thought hopefully.

"So how much are you charging for this then?" Becky stated, her voice coming over more in a business manner now.

That was the one thing about Becky he kind of admired. Though she looked ditzy and fashion obsessed, and okay sometimes she was, but she had a good business mind. She could see whether something was viable or not and it helped Lance get more lucrative gigs before Ashgate happened.

"I thought about charging 30 bucks for adults, 20 for kids and give a half price first session, you know, to get animals interested. Plus I'll be going to their houses so I'll need that much to make it worth going out on public transport."

"Hmm." Becky was processing the maths in her head. "You'll need to get a season pass. For both bus and rail. Otherwise you'll be barely breaking even. It's a bit of an investment but it'll be better in the long run."

"Yeah, I know, I'm going to go down there tomorrow and – wait, you think this is a good idea?!"

Becky shrugged. "I mean, it's gonna be a lot of work and it's not going to be profitable at first but I can see this working. Not every animal knows who you are and some don't give a damn. I can see you getting a few students and, in a few months or so, I can see you making some decent money." Becky summed up in a matter of fact manner. "I mean, nothing compared to me obviously, but still decent money." Becky teased.

Lance couldn't believe it. Becky thought it was good idea. Granted the big reveal hadn't gone the way he wanted, but she thought it was good idea. Lance quickly closed the gap between them and pulled a slightly surprised Becky in for an unexpected hug.

"Thank you, Becky. This means a lot actually. I really think I can make this work. And then who knows? I might be able to get back into the gigging game and finally make it big." Lance waffled.

"Okay, one step at a time rock star." Becky jokingly chided, returning the hug. "You've got to get this off the ground first and pay me back your share of the rent first."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll get it all square between us soon. I promise!" Lance chimed in as they separated from the hug.

"Yeah, you better had!" Becky said, playfully punching his shoulder.

A small silence fell over them, the previous tension having dissipated and a mildly happier atmosphere returning to the flat.

"So, dinner smells nice" Becky said, nodding her head towards the table.

"Oh shit! It'll be getting cold!" Lance said, jumping up from the sofa and hurrying over to the table. Becky rolled her eyes and followed him at a much more relaxed pace.

Lance was pleased with himself. It had been a while since he'd cooked but it turned out alright. Becky even asked for second helpings. Riding his high, Becky was snuggled against Lance as they were watching The Devil Wears Prada. It was a film Becky loved and Lance outwardly loathed but, on the inside, had become secretly fond of the film, cheesiness and all.

With Becky leaned up against him, starting to drift off to sleep, Lance started to feel good. He may not love her, but he was still fond of her. She was sweet, kind, although with a bit of steel about her, and for all his faults, still wanted Lance to do well. Their relationship may not have started well, or been the most truthful for Lance, but treating it like an intimate platonic friendship seemed to work for them. They were comfortable. Content. Satisfied.

Then Lance remembered.

"Hey Becky?"

"Hmm?" Becky hummed, her eyelids slightly drooping.

"I forgot to tell you something."

"What is it babe?" Becky cooed sleepily, looking up at him from his shoulder.

"Well it's just erm, I got a student today."

"Oh, that's great honey" Becky yawned. "When's he start?"

Lance stiffened up a little, fortunately not noticed by the near dozing Becky.

He? Should I tell Becky Autumn's a girl? She wouldn't be jealous or something, would she? Then again, she did erupt like a volcano when I cooked tea, God knows what she'll do if my first student is a girl and wants to come to the apartment. I'll just keep it quiet for now. Once she starts paying, I'm sure Becky will see sense. Yeah, I see no problem with that.

"Erm, yeah that's the thing" Lance started, the half-truths forming in his head. "You see he's not exactly got somewhere to do the lessons with me."

"What, is he homeless?" Becky joked.

"No, nothing like that, it's just he shares his house with someone and he doesn't want to disturb them."

Well that's mostly true. Lance thought.

"So, what are you going to do then? Teach in the park or something?"

"Well" Lance hesitated "I was wondering, if it's okay with you that is, if we could erm, do the lessons… here."

Becky remained silent for a moment, the tension suddenly spiking within Lance.

Shit, did I fuck up? Is that a step too far? I didn't want to ruin this night for her. What's she gonna-

"Sounds fine to me."

"Sorry what?" Lance responded, the disbelief apparent in his voice.

"I said it's fine ya doofus" Becky replied gently, and awkwardly, swatting him with a free paw. "So long as you do it while I'm work or something then I'm okay with it. Just don't make a mess or anything. Don't want to clear up after two slobs rather than one."

Lance breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, will do Becky."

"And no electric guitars. Don't want the neighbours to complain. Again."

"Sure thing, mom" Lance mocked in an exaggerated voice.

Becky laughed. "Don't sass your mother. Now off to bed with you. It's a school night, don't cha know?"

"But I don't wanna go to school." Lance moaned, crossing his arms like a petulant child, getting into the silliness.

"Ok, that's enough." Becky said finishing the silliness a bit abruptly.

"Oh, okay." Lance replied.

That was something that he did miss. A bit of silliness. He and Ash had that sometimes, times where they could just goof around and make each other laugh. Well, before she started trying to upstage him, then the sun stopped. Sure, a brief second or so, but it always got cut off before it could fully develop. It felt so frustrating.

And with the fun ended, they both went to bed, quietly going to sleep without much talking between them.

It was about four in the morning when Lance woke up, his mind unusually active for that time of night. He might be a nocturnal mammal by nature but evolution and societal expectations had left them as a diurnal and so Lance was definitely not a late night/early morning kind of guy.

Grabbing himself a glass of water, Lance sat on the couch drinking the cool contents, hoping that would lull him back to sleep.

Looking down at the coffee table in front of him, Lance saw that he had left his phone lying there before heading to bed. Picking it up, Lance turned it on.

Maybe I can skim read something. Reading's supposed to help you sleep, right?

After being initially blinded by his phone, Lance quickly turned down the brightness, before skim reading a few articles, not really taking in the content.

After reading another article bemoaning some hot political issue, something that Lance didn't pay much attention to since he never really understood why the animals here we're having arguments of basic stuff, he quickly flicked away the app for another restless night.

Just as he was about to hit the sleep button, Lance eyes drifted over to the text messages.

Wasn't I meant to text someone? Lance thought, the sleep starting to hit him now before realisation hit him like a lightning bolt.

Crap! Autumn!

Opening the app, Lance tapped on Autumn's name and hurriedly drafted a quick message. Reading it once over, Lance hit the send button.

Looking at the message in the green bubble, Lance hope he hadn't disturbed Autumn's sleep. It simply read:

Hey Autumn. Sorry for the late message but it's all sorted. The lessons I mean. Is sometime in the day okay? Message me back when you're free so we can get this sorted

The smiley face immediately bothered Lance.

Was that too much? I mean, I'm meant to be the teacher. Do teacher send smiley face messages to their students? Probably not. Well she's not a student yet but still, don't think I should have done it. Not exactly the most professional thing to do. But then again messaging someone at quarter to five isn't exactly screaming great teacher or anything.

His phone suddenly let out a ping that, in the quiet of the dim apartment, sounded more like a chime gigantic bell being struck right next to Lance's ear.

Lance, recovering from the shock of the piercing note, looked back down at his phone.

It was Autumn.

I'm free Wednesday about 3ish. Is that ok?

Bloody hell Lance thought. That was quick. I must have woken her up but still.

Lance quickly typed out a reply.

Sure. I'll see you next Wednesday then.

Almost instantaneously the phone ping again, Lance now muffling the phone and switching it to silent.

See you then

Lance smiled as he turned the phone off and pushed himself off the sofa. Everything was in place. Cards to distribute. A new, sort of, guitar. Business phone. Brand new start.

Lance quietly crept into the bedroom, Becky gently sleeping on her side, her chest softly rising with each breath. Lance chuckled. She sure does look cute when she sleeps, I'll give her that.

Putting his phone on charge, resting it on the bedside table, Lance looked over in the corner of the room. Piled high with his boxes rested the banged-up guitar he bought at Marv's and, resting next to it lay another, bursting with light in its centre, with a subdued darkness round its edges.

Lance went and knelt by it, gently stroking its well-kept body, gently touching the strings, so not to incur too much noise and awaken Becky.

It felt the same as it did back then. Back in those days. A sad smile lingered on his face before Lance pulled himself away.

Climbing back into bed, Lance finally felt the sweet embrace of peaceful unconsciousness push his eyelids down, the two guitars watching over his sleep, trying to claw into his dreams.