#in the name of keeping this entirely within april ofc

[krypteretnetwork]

Camp NanoWrimo April 2021: Day 19

Word count: 1023 (19064 total)

    “...How about Denmark, then? I mean, if I’m close to the both of you, then I’d have to be pretty relaxed, right?” Denmark was supposed to be coming over later that day. As Alleos began putting in her piercings and applying her makeup, she couldn’t help but want Norway there so she could ask questions.

    “Dane…” he visibly shuddered a bit. While the two were indeed best friends, Denmark was still quite the character. Naturally, Alleos was aware of this, of course, but he couldn’t contain his feelings entirely.

    Turning to look at him just slightly, Alleos raised an eyebrow. “Do I act any similar to the way you do around him? I take it the two of you are rather close… and I know for a fact there’s a lot of bullying and playful jabs on both ends.”

    “Pffft…” to this, Norway actually let out the slightest hint of a laugh. “Well, of course you bully and jab at him. All of us do, you know… but yes, you do let your guard down around him. Somewhat. How do I put this…” he looked up thoughtfully, prompting Alleos to go back to getting her look set up as she waited for an answer. “Well, you tend to be quite the party animal.” Evidently, this surprised Alleos. While she could be chaotic back as an Icelandic micronation, and was still fun loving as a Finnish micronation, to be a party animal like Norway was saying was something she never saw for herself. “I will iterate that you do this to spite Sweden. He doesn’t approve of you hanging around us as often as you do… typical overprotective father. And also, the whole… benefits we discussed, but you’ve been vocal whenever you’re not down. I presume it’ll be… odd considering your circumstances now. Just know that he won’t pressure you, and that there is a genuine friendship beneath all of it.”

    As Alleos focused on her makeup again, she made and maintained mental notes of everything in her head. “Well… I guess that makes sense.” Her brows furrowed, indicating that she had another question. However, she chose to refrain from asking anything, and when asked by Norway if there was anything else she wanted to say she denied.

    Resting his hands in his lap, Norway looked up to her. “Well, then… do you feel ready to meet him?”

    This almost frustrated Alleos, and she gave him a look. “Are you implying I would have gotten ready for nothing?”

    Her tone of voice and choice of words made him smile. “That’s more of the type of attitude we’re looking for. Keep working on that, it’ll come in handy later.”

~~~

    “Alleos!” shouted an all too familiar voice. Then came an all too familiar bear hug, the Dane pretty much squeezing her. “How’ve ya been?! How’s the infection? You down to get crazy again?!”

    Admittedly Alleos was stunned from the sudden hug. Though she had been expecting it, the energy radiating from the Dane was that much more apparent now- it was quite exaggerated from what she’d recalled from the other worlds. Not to mention, the fact that she could feel the sexual energy, threw her off a bit.

    Noticing her surprise, Norway frowned and pried Denmark off of her. “Give her room to breathe, stupid,” he huffed, bonking him on the head. “She’s only just gotten the bandages off.”

    “Is that so…?” he asked, finally looking her in the eye. Then he blushed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, now that I’m actually lookin’ at ‘er, it’s real noticeable… sorry ‘bout that!” he flashed her a thumbs up, his eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment.

    “Uhh, like… it’s fine? I would appreciate some fucking warning in the future,” said the micronation. “You got what’s good, though? I really don’t feel like drinking tonight. More of a chill high kinda night, ya know?” secretly, Alleos was actually looking forward to doing some sort of drugs; something to take off the edge she’d been on ever since that one… well, death.

    “Well… only green and shrooms- the usual, y’know?” Truthfully he wasn’t the most fond of some of the harder stuff that he was aware Alleos did.

    “Uuugh, fine! Guess I’ll have to delve into my stash… again,” said Alleos, clearly exaggerating her disappointment a bit. While she wouldn’t complain about free green and shrooms, she was also a fan of her happy pills- or at least, that’s what she’d gathered from sorting through her stuff in this world.

    Raising a brow, Denmark let out a little laugh. “Jeez, uh… alright!” he knew something was off, though he couldn’t quite tell what. “I mean, happy pills are good an’ all, but we could always make brownies or somethin’... ya also said ya wanted more of a chill high, right? In that case, don’t ya think somethin’... well, more chill would be appropriate?”

    Normally, Alleos would have laughed and brushed him off, and opted to take something that wasn’t so relaxed. However, considering that she was new to this world in a sense, and aware that their relations were… a new concept to her, she actually chose to listen to his concern.

    “I mean, I guess that works for me. Also wouldn’t mind smoking a bit for a more enhanced experience…”

    Then Norway chimed in with his own idea: “Why not make some tea with some of the mushrooms, then? Just enough to make things a little more interesting…” Yes, even Norway would be in on it. Or rather, as in on it as Alleos would even be comfortable with him being.

    Judging by the brief look that flashed in her eyes, he could only guess what she was going to say next. “Uhh, maybe another time? We’re looking for something more chill tonight…” She, to, noticed the change in Norway’s demeanor now that Denmark was around. Yeah, she was a whole different character around these two, and in the name of spite for Sweden…

    Looking away almost sheepishly, Norway just nodded. “Yes, I understand. Well, how about we get to baking? Baking and getting baked, that is.”

[viperbranium]

real life shit under the cut (mostly because it’s LONG and I don’t wanna bug you guys with this, so ofc no need to read --like seriously, it’s a lot--, but at the same time i wanted to put it out there because god i need to vent somehow and i’m feeling kinda desperate/pissed/murderous anD I JUST FUCKING CAN’T UGHH)

So you guys, or at least the ones that have been following me for a while, may or may not remember me moving into my new apartment quite recently (last april), because my previous roommate (who was also my landlord) was sort of a dick -- For MANY reasons, but long story short, I had been living at a quite cheap and centric apartment before moving in with him, but he was a friend, and wanted the extra money, and he asked that I moved in with him, so I did because hey, I’m giving money to a friend instead of some random landlord, AND I’m having a friend for landlord, and my room was bigger, so hey, seemed like a good enough idea... more on why I was WRONG about this in a minute.

During the time I was living with him he was like ‘hey we should adopt a dog’, we meaning HE wanted to adopt one but that we both could both take care of it since we were both living there and since he knows I love dogs, so it’d be less troublesome to raise it and walk it and all. I said that I had no issues with it, that I DID love dogs, but then proceeded to make it very clear that:

Despite all the time I had been living on my own I hadn’t yet adopted one because I KNEW I couldn’t take care of it at the time. I’m studying, I don’t have the time or the money, and I travel back home during uni breaks and cannot bring it with me. I’d help with the dog but I woudn’t be there during the holidays, and I could only take care of it so much.

He needed to understand that it was A LOT OF WORK, and far more demanding than the two cats he owned.

He needed  to make sure his parents (actual owners of the house) knew and were okay with it

To all of these things, he said ‘yeah yeah it’s fine everything’s fine we good’, and after spending Easter (2016) at my parent’s, I came back to him already having adopted the first dog that crossed his path (Raven).

If you’ve been following me, you might also remember how shortly after she’d been living with us I discovered that he hadn’t actually told his parents at all, and they WERE NOT happy about it -- his dad wanted him to get rid of her within the week or else he’d dump her somewhere. I was outraged and told him you can’t just return A DOG and that he had to go talk to his dad and be like ‘sorry i fucked up but she’s my responsibility now’, and he was like ‘nope sorry not gonna work she’s gotta go’, like????????? ThE IRRESPONSIBILITY MAN.

Thankfully his mom was a bit more reasonable and got his dad to calm down and told us she could stay, but yeah, this already tells you the kind of person this guy is.

Which brings us back to me having thought that moving in with him was a good idea. For a while, dog incident aside, it was fine... Except months later he told me that he was gonna raise my rent by quite a bit, despite knowing that the apartment I had been living at was cheaper than what I was already paying him (like, pre-raise), despite his apartment being terribly located, and despite that he was already asking for WAY more than what places in that area cost, and his wasn’t exactly in great conditions.

I made it very clear that I just DIDN’T have any more money, and he said “okay then you gotta leave and also you’re taking Raven with you”.

Yay.

Like, by that time, I had already assumed that Raven was mine, because of course it turned out to be me who was taking care of her all the time, so I had every intention of bringing her with me once I actually finished uni and left for good... but, like I had VERY CLEARLY told him, I just fucking couldn’t at the time.

Anyway, because I obviously loved Raven and didn’t want him to just abandon her somewhere (he would’ve), we agreed that I’d just move out and take her with me and keep her all the time, BUT that he still had to stay with her during uni breaks because I just physically couldn’t (can’t).

So last April I moved out of his place and into a much cheaper and nicer and better located apartment. I went to see my family in Easter and he stayed with her in the meantime, and so far so good.

This is where it gets nice.

Come summer, he was already starting to make random excuses saying that he couldn’t stay with her and that I had to bring her with me, and I was only when I made it fucking clear that I DIDN’T HAVE THE MONEY and that either way I couldn’t take her home anyway unless it was me moving back to the island for good and to my own apartment, because she’s quite the intense puppy and my younger brother has brittle bone disease, so we’d have to find some kennel and split the costs, that he magically stopped having this or that issue and could take care of her again.

Fast forward til now. I told him that I wasn’t gonna go home for Christmas, so he didn’t have to stay with her (he loved this part), but that I had to come to Madrid this weekend for a uni thing (this one not so much).

I left her with him on thursday afternoon and was gonna pick her up on monday morning.

Today I woke up to a text from him saying that someone complained about the noise or something and that the police filed a report or whatever and that “they forbade me from keeping the dog in this apartment ever again”.

Which... a) I’m calling bullshit.

b) not my problem anyway? Like, yeah, she’s super well-behaved with me, it's very likely that he's kept her locked up the entire time since i left without even bothering to walk her (he did this before) so maybe she did start barking non-stop because she was just desperate, but can the police actually not allow you to keep your dog in your own house for this? 

c) he has one of this collars that gives the animal a small shock when they bark, that I never need to use because she always behaves with me, but when I left her with him and gave him all of her things, I TOLD HIM that I thought it didn’t had any battery left, and he was like ‘bah whatever just her wearing it should do the trick’ which makes it seem more like he was just BEGGING for something to happen so he’d have an excuse not to dogsit her...

But in any case, I’m FUCKED, because I have no way of forcing him to fucking be a decent human being and do what he promised he would and stay with her during uni breaks, and I have no money to buy her plane tickets all the times, or to pay for her to stay at some place every time -- like, this isn’t some amount i can save just by not going to the movies or not ordering coffees, this is a constant added expense, and not a small one at that.

And yeah, of course i can be like "well fuck you then, you're getting the dog back, I’m not gonna take care of her anymore, your problem now, bye”, because it's still his name on her papers (cause i refused to change it until i finally left the city and took her with me, as a way to make sure he was gonna care for her because if something happened it was going to be his name on the papers), but I want to keep her. She’s my dog and I love her, and I don’t want him to give her up for adoption or something, and he fucking knows that.

So I’m totally fucked and helpless and I just really want to fucking stab him in an eye.

[mynameisdreartblog]

Cars 3

Libra: Acura NSX. Immortalize me in stone for all I care: it won't matter when I'm six feet under. «Libi, you’re too old for your age to have the pessimistic thoughts of a teenager. You’ve been far more disappointed than them to come to those conclusions!» Agh, I know, I know, but the thought of impermanence just gets to you once in a while. I wish I could’ve been one of those weirdos who takes a picture of themselves every morning for every day to document their ageing in such a way that’s shockingly dreadful after a couple hundred photos. The concussion I had when I was a teenager didn’t turn me into one of those savants who could remember the exact details of each day of their life… Eh, what else? Oh, I’ve only cataloged any excitement in my life within the suffocating walls of the library: There’s memoirs of my experiences behind my desk, and you gotta be a special someone to have access to them while I’m still alive. «Libi, all you put in there is corny jokes and write-ups about exact status of each book; believe me, it’s not exciting.» [,] Pfft, it’s the same with all of you; that attitude is just fueling my boredom! Thus, making me want to catalog even more. Be lucky I’m not tossing another book at you. «Yeah, I still have the scar from last april when a hardcover copy of Catcher and the Rye hit my lower back.» Hey, I thought it wouldn’t hurt that much, because I got a dozen of the things in all the various editions, releases, repackagings, and promotions. I was confident I tossed you the one that was the wimpiest. Besides, that’s something you could remember fondly in this moment! You might not be able to remember it a couple years down the line… «You also might not be alive a couple years down the line, so maybe don’t spend your precious days throwing things at me.» At that point, this place is yours for the keeping and my diaries are yours to browse! <Yellen tends to her work once again.> […] «On second thought, that shot was somewhat awful, let’s go out on the range and brush up on your accuracy. And remember the silencer! You don’t want the patriarchs finding out about your professional shooting.»

Cancer: Mazda Miata. Out of all the dark voids I've been in, this is the most ominous. The year is who-cares A.D., the day is Sexta-feira, and Disturbia is still the best pop song ever made since its inception in 2008… Well, maybe it’s not the best. Lights by Ellie Goulding is a strong contender for the best pop song ever made… I’m sure this void has a great taste in music too: I’m guessing it likes more classical variations of Fado given where I managed to stumble into it, but I could be making assumptions there. The void could have just as varied and distinct tastes as I do. I mean, it’s kind enough to offer me some sort of audio refraction, so I can thankfully hear myself whenever I make a sound in the blackness… Yeah, this void has been quite accommodating despite being so off-putting, but maybe I was being too harsh in my initial judgements. […] You know, dark void, I think we got off on a bad start: My name’s Springe and I’ve lived in southwest Córdoba for fifteen years after I was relocated from my birthplace in… Oh, I forgot that I don’t remember where I was born. I just know I was born on this continent and that was it. For my accomplishments, I’ve been employed at an after-hours clinic for eleven of those total years and I’ve long gone past the point of worrying if I’ll make it to the point where I can find a higher paying job: That’s why I appreciate what you’ve done for me so far, void. I appreciate you because I’m used to failure, and you’re the realization that failure isn’t always what we hype it up to be. Sometimes… it’s just somber and reflective. I’m not even reflecting on how I failed, rather I’m reflecting on why I pursued victory in the first place. […] Void, I wanna thank you for the time you’ve spent with me here, and I wanna let you know that my first impressions were inaccurate. From my conversations with you, you seem like a very personable void with a lot to talk about and a very cultured mind that can talk for hours. As much fun as it’s been, we have to depart. So long, dark void, you’ve would’ve made a great podcast co-host… Hey, who said you would have made a great co-host? You can still be one! We can sit in here for hours and just pretend to record a podcast with our lack of recording equipment. We’ll call it… the Eternity Flame.

Virgo: Type 57 Atlantic. Okay, you know, I admit: I might be mildly obsessed with the idea of Guy Fieri as a cute lesbian with frosted, spiky hair and button-up shirts who goes around talking about Flavortown. I really feel like making up another goth friend for her to be with, but I don’t want her to be just another generic goth you know: I wanna diversify my goths as much as possible, like creating a lineup of goths to pick and choose from. I want this lesbian Guy Fieri to have a goth girlfriend who isn’t immediately disgusted by the thought of eating at some place like the Heart Attack Grill. She’ll be named something ironic though in contrast to her fearlessness when approaching the western corruptions that are the Heart Attack Grill and other imitators like it — lesbian Fieri would like any sincere appreciation of the Heart Attack Grill because she’s not worried about the health risks; she’s just worried if the food tastes good or not. So, the irony that comes from her girlfriend’s name is hilarious, and her name’s gonna be Электрификация. The electrification of her opposition to disgusting American fast-food places is exemplified towards her electrifying attitude towards a modest approach away from them, hence the name Электрификация. […] I wonder if, like, I can code in some underlying arc about lesbian Fieri needing to find the twelve sacred restaurants and relighting the hidden power beneath them to restore the balance of the… meat and produce industry or whatever. Each restaurant has a different theme associated with them, and each has a tragedy and lesson waiting for our lesbian hero, Fieri, and her girlfriend who acts as a foil character, but in a way that exposes the faults of a common attitude. [,] Oh, maybe the first restaurant will be Lebanese-themed and what lesbian Fieri and her girlfriend encounter is a Dabke ensemble called Goddess County, and they seem normal at first, but then reveal themselves to be the ancient spirits holding the sacred spirit of the restaurant that lesbian Fieri must pacify. Ooh, what if she has to go through a series of challenges all centered around cuisine? […] «Ms. Rusalka, what is this sheet music you’re submitting me? Why is Guy Fieri here and why is he a lesbian with frosted tips and a burger-critical girlfriend that he somehow gets along with?» Um, it’s my project; I’ve been working on it for a while, you see, and I think it’s zany enough to warrant publication. «That's not gonna reach anyone! He's a damn internet meme and the lesbians don't want that, and I don't care how nice of a guy he is!» Excuse me, how are you to assume what lesbians would be interested in? Square up, right now.

Sagittarius: DeLorean DMC-12. Uh, okay, I’ll tell you a story from my recent service in the military. Hold on, let me get one thing before I start. <Rossouw eats one last chip from her bag of kettle-cooked, and she begins positioning her hands so as to make them instruments of verbal storytelling.> "It was five years ago, and I was deployed in the southern border of Angola to assist the army there in their seizure of an abandoned sector of development they believed to be taken over by a terrorist group. I was part of a squad of seven, and we were tasked with infiltrating the largest building in the area. They made sure that any threats of terrorist forces on the outskirts were eliminated or push backed, so we arrived on the front safely.” [,] Before I begin, I should tell you my role in that squad: I was a rifleman given the responsibility of being the main receiver of squad-leader orders, and I had to make sure every other specialist had to follow said orders. The firearm at my side was nothing special, as it was a standard-issue military crossbow that they gave me the liberty to paint a healthy tint of pink and brandish a serial code of… something that ended in eleven. Now, this was before I recognized how stupid an army lifestyle was, but it was also the time where I was promoted from being a simple mechanical worker to being a gun-toter, and that was the turning point for me. Anyways, back to the story. […] “Our leader was Ofc. Bahomana, and they led with us sneaking into the backdoor that was cut open via wire-cutters. Inside was nothing much: Just an expanse of a dark, empty shopping center that could’ve been a nice place for me and my nephew to visit in the summertime, but it just had to be occupied by troublemakers. Through the decrepit sectors of once an active shopping sprawl, we sensed nothing but the sound of pipes leaking and the smell of arcane rust. But despite the emptiness, we were on our toes for any sudden attack… eventually, two hours passed and we seemed to’ve scavenged the entire area only to find no visible threat; mold was the most dangerous thing in that store. [,] All was quaint, until I heard a sudden electrical signal and the center light turned on, and the intercom speakers blasted with the sounds of a boot-up. Immediately, our ears were pounded with the roar of ‘Attention, Kmart shoppers!’ and the doors that we entered through were shut.” [,] I urgently demanded Bahomana what we should do, but all they could do was just sit and stare like a deer in headlights… I kept yelling at them, but they would just become more still. […] Regardless of the sheer terror of the moment, it certainly grabbed our attention.

[debbiechanclub]

Paradigm Shift

Characters: Kenny Omega x OFC x Jon Moxley (fka Dean Ambrose)

Summary: In the cold war between WWE and AEW, Hannah McMahon has a foot in both worlds: she's climbing the ranks in her father's company while also dating Kenny Omega. But as more disgruntled wrestlers leave WWE for AEW - including a certain lunatic fringe - Hannah faces an impossible choice: fight for her family or for love?

Note: Featuring my OFC, Hannah McMahon. Takes place within the same universe as a couple other fics I wrote over on FanFiction. I’ll be cross-posting this over there, as well.

Part 1/?

Chapter One: Cheaper Than Therapy

Sunday, April 21, 2019 Davenport, Iowa

“Alright, alright—everyone raise your glasses!” The table grew quiet as Colby called for attention, and everyone reverently raised their shot glasses and drinks in toast. “I’ll try to keep this short and sweet,” he started. “Tonight was The Shield’s Final Chapter, and I’m not gonna lie: it’s bittersweet. When The Shield debuted at Survivor Series 2012, in those god-awful turtlenecks, I had no idea that it would become one of the greatest stables in WWE history and, in my very biased opinion, all of wrestling. Those first two original years not only shaped who I am as a wrestler and person, but gave me a sister and two brothers in Hannah, Joe, and Jon. And no matter what we’re going through or where we’re working, I know they’ll always have my back, and I’ll always have theirs.

“So here’s to Jon, who’s going off to greener pastures. We wish you nothing but success in all your future endeavors. And here’s to The Shield, the greatest faction this side of DX.”

“To The Shield!” the table proclaimed, and after clinking glasses with everyone around her Hannah McMahon kicked back her shot. She twitched unpleasantly as the Jack Daniel’s burned down her throat; it’d been awhile since she’d drank hard liquor, but tonight called for it.

Just over an hour ago in front of less than 12,000 fans in Moline, Illinois, The Shield had wrestled their final match. Hannah had fought back tears as she’d raised Seth, Roman, and Dean’s arms in the ring for the last time; truly, it had felt as if she were closing not just a chapter, but an entire book in the anthology of her life. The Shield was what had brought her to WWE TV after years of refusing to become an onscreen character. It had been her creative outlet for all her backstage frustrations; it had molded her philosophy on the business; it had made her a stronger person, both in front of and behind the camera. It had given her love; it had given her pain. And even though the show had been a beautiful send-off for the group, it would take more than just a final match for Hannah and the rest of them to adequately close that chapter. So here they all were, just over the Mississippi River in Davenport, Iowa, where they could all pour one out for The Shield at Colby’s favorite hometown haunt.

“Hannah! What do you want? I’m buying.”

She snapped out of her reverie at the sound of Baron Corbin’s voice. Most of the other wrestlers on the card had come out to celebrate—either because they were good friends with Colby, Joe, and Jon, or just because they enjoyed a good time. “Oh, I’m good,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m gonna head out here in a little bit.”

“What?” Joe whipped his head around when he heard that. “Six and a half years of history and you’re only gonna have one shot? I’m disappointed, Hannah. As I recall, the very first time we went out drinking together you rode a mechanical bull on Bourbon Street.”

Bayley’s eyes lit up at that. “Are you serious?! Okay, I have to hear this story.”

“No, you really don’t,” Hannah interrupted before Joe could elaborate. “All you need to know is it was Bourbon Street. And a lot has changed in six and a half years, Joe.”

“Yeah,” Fergal—a.k.a. Finn Balor—said from next to Hannah. “Now instead of staying out drinking with us she wants to get to the hotel so she can have phone sex with Kenny.”

Everyone within earshot either gaped in shock or burst out laughing. Hannah backhanded Fergal’s shoulder. “We don’t have phone sex!” she proclaimed in disgust.

“Bullshit. You two’ve kept up a long-distance relationship for over a year, you must be doing something.”

Hannah’s entire face burned bright red. What she did behind closed doors with her boyfriend was no one’s business. “Well, you’re an asshole, and I think I’ll take that drink now.”

“That-a girl,” Joe grinned.

“I’ll get it,” Fergal said in consolation as he got up from the table. “You know I’m just teasing you, Hannah.”

“Uh huh,” she muttered; but when he returned with her favorite beer all was forgiven.

The night continued on, friends and colleagues reminiscing about the past and wondering about the future, and one by one people closed their tabs and headed out to the next town, until there were only a handful left at the bar. It was nearing midnight when Hannah finally decided she should hit the road herself.

“Are you sure you don’t want to crash at my place?” Colby asked as she stood from the table. “My guest room is only 20 minutes away.”

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m gonna let you two,” she suggestively wagged her finger between Colby and Becky, “have the house to yourselves. Besides, you know I like my midnight drives. They’re cheaper than therapy.”

“That I do know,” Colby grinned. “Come here.” He wrapped her up in a hug, and suddenly Hannah felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes again. While her relationship with each of the guys in The Shield were unique and special in their own way, her friendship with Colby was beyond. Colby was her brother, her partner in crime both on and off-screen, and the best friend she’d ever had. Now that The Shield was officially disbanded, she didn’t know if they’d ever get to work together on TV again—and, deep down, that was what really got her.

“Okay, I’m gonna start crying again,” she forced a smile as she pulled away and wiped her eyes. “I gotta get out of here.” She turned to Becky and gave her a warm hug. “See you at the next one.”

“Drive safe, alright?” Becky said. “Send us a text when you get to the hotel.”

“I will,” she said, and with another wave she went up to the bar to settle her tab. Jon was there ordering another drink. “Planning on closing the place down?” she asked.

He sent her a crooked smirk. “When have you ever known me to do anything else, Hannah?”

“Fair point. Renee’s driving, I hope?”

“Yeah, but we got a hotel here. She’ll go to Des Moines in the morning.”

Hannah gave a silent nod as she handed the bartender her card just as the other barkeep set Jon’s drink in front of him; but he didn’t make a move to take it. He just stood there, watching her.

“What?” Hannah finally asked.

“You know I’m going to AEW, right?”

The bluntness of his tone caught her off-guard, but the statement itself didn’t. “Please,” she dismissed. “Of course I know you’re going to AEW. What kind of dumb fucking question is that?”

They locked eyes across the bar—and then both let out a wry laugh. “That was a dumb fucking question, wasn’t it?” Jon grinned.

“It really fucking was.”

Their shared smile lasted a few seconds longer, but soon enough a lull fell between them, as it always inevitably did. Over the years there’d been far too many words left unsaid, and they’d pooled up like a vast gulf separating shores. When the bartender brought Hannah her receipt, she all but jumped to sign her name and split. But then Jon said something that really did catch her off-guard.

“I’m gonna miss you, Hannah. Really. You always stood up for me.”

Hannah fiddled with the pen in her fingers. “Well, I just wanted you to be happy and succeed. Same as I want for everyone in this company. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out. For you in WWE, I mean,” she quickly added.

Jon flashed that smirk again. “No worries, boss. We had a good run.”

Crimson involuntarily blossomed across Hannah’s cheeks. Knowing Jon, he’d fully intended the double entendre behind that statement. She scribbled her name on the receipt. “Well, I’m heading out—”

“Hannah! Are you leaving?”

Hannah momentarily closed her eyes at the sound of Renee’s peppy voice. She really needed to go. “Yeah, I gotta get to Des Moines. I think I need the drive to unpack tonight, honestly.”

“Oh my God, I know,” Renee empathetically intoned. “The Shield was like your wrestling coming of age story!”

“That’s… actually a really good way of putting it,” Hannah agreed.

“Well, even though tonight was the end of something special I’m excited to see what you’ll do down in NXT. I really think the show will benefit from having you as GM.”

Hannah couldn’t help the puzzled look that crossed her face. Why did Renee have to be so nice? It would be so much easier to just ignore her if she wasn’t so nice. “Thanks, Renee. That means a lot.”

Suddenly her phone buzzed in her hand—it was a text from Kenny. “Gah, I really should go,” she said, and after a second’s hesitation she gave Renee an awkward hug goodbye. She turned to Jon. “Good luck, Moxley,” she quipped; and before she knew what was happening, he pulled her into a hug.

Every muscle in her body tensed. It’d been what felt like a lifetime since they’d touched like this. It was something foreign that had once been familiar, and that made it all the worse. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” he said into her ear. It sent goosebumps down Hannah’s neck, and she had to pull away.

“See you tomorrow,” she said to Renee, and she walked as quickly as she could out of the bar and to the illuminated parking lot where her rental sat. She dialed Kenny as soon as she climbed into the SUV. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey, baby.”

Hannah relaxed back into the driver’s seat. Hearing Tyson’s soft voice floating through the speaker immediately put her at ease. “Hey. You haven’t been up waiting on me, have you?”

“Well, technically not; I’m up playing video games. But you know I can’t sleep until I know you’ve made it to the next stop.”

“I know,” she said apologetically. “I’m leaving Davenport now; I should be in Des Moines in about two and a half hours. I honestly probably should have left here an hour ago.”

“Why?” he sounded surprised. “Is everything okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah. Tonight was just… emotional. The Shield was like my version of Bullet Club or The Elite, you know? And now it’s over.”

“I know. But it was time. You’ve all outgrown it, and now you’re each going on to do more amazing things. And from now until the end of time everyone will look back at The Shield as the thing that first put four incredible performers on the map.”

Hannah’s smile risked splitting her face in two. God, she was in love with this man. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“It’s a preternatural gift, I can’t explain it.”

“Well, thank you. And you’re right. But nostalgia’s a hell of a drug.”

“That it is. But don’t you worry; in two more days I’ll put you through a strict detox program.”

Hannah bit her lip at the thought. After SmackDown’s show in Lincoln, Nebraska on Tuesday she’d make the short two-hour flight to Winnipeg to spend a few days with Tyson before she had to be back on the road Friday. That was how they’d managed their time together ever since he’d left NJPW in January: splitting their free days between his place in Canada and hers in Connecticut, or wherever was most convenient. It could be stressful at times, and Hannah lived out of a suitcase—but it was the same for any other pro wrestler who maintained a relationship with someone outside the business. The only difference was that Tyson was in the business; he just worked for a different company. A rival company. But they both chose not to think about that.

“Oh really? And what will you prescribe, Dr. Omega?”

“I have a few pretty intense regimens planned,” he said, and Hannah couldn’t help herself—she let out a laugh. “What?”

“Back at the bar Fergal accused me of wanting to leave early so I could go have phone sex with you. I told him we don’t do that, but this is sure starting to sound like it.”

“Please, this is barely phone foreplay. Besides, Fergal doesn’t have any room to throw stones about phone sex.”

“Yeah, don’t wanna know,” Hannah quickly said. “But I’ll be counting down the days until Tuesday. I’m excited to finally get to spend some time with you in Winnipeg again. I feel bad that you’ve mostly been the one traveling to see me the last month.”

She could almost hear him shaking his head through the phone. “Don’t. You’ve been really busy and I haven’t. And if the roles were reversed, I know you’d travel to see me.”

“I would,” she said, and in that moment her heart swelled with joy. She was so lucky to have found someone as understanding and supportive as Tyson. It made all the difference. “Well, I’m on the highway now, so I’ll let you get back to your game. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel.”

“Ok. Drive safe and listen to loud music.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Hannah ended the call, her soul a million times lighter. She turned up the radio and focused on the road ahead, the past in the rearview mirror. As she’d told Colby, midnight drives were cheaper than therapy.