ACID RAIN

“what do you think, padfoot?” it’s one of the last warm days they’re going to get before spring, and remus is taking advantage of it, wearing shorts even if the breeze is cold. “i’ll get a big piece, right here on my thigh.” he stretches his legs out in front of him, patting his upper thigh. “maybe one of those obnoxious geometric wolf heads or something. really sell my cool new millennial vibe.”

“Ah, Connecticut.” Loki groaned as he looked at the newspaper. The Bifrost must have dumped him here by mistake, he did not want to be in Connecticut in the slightest. Now it seemed not even a god with all the magic he has, could get out. “I would rather be eaten by my own father again.” 

That was meant to be a thought, but a filter on Loki was something that could only be described as theoretical.

“...again?” although he hadn’t been expecting them to say anything - most people didn’t, when they were sitting in coffee shops by themselves - jd doesn’t look confused, or even disgusted, just mildly amused by the whole thing. “i don’t mean to kinkshame you, or anything, because c’est la vie, or whatever. but i think it might be kind of hard to survive that sort of thing twice.”

he’s got some time before work to kill, how better to do it than to drink some coffee he doesn’t need and people watch for a while? watching people go about their lives, unbothered by his presence, by his past... it’s humbling in a way that stings less the more jd does it.

“we meet again.” he’s leaned against her doorframe as she opens the door, holding up the box in his hands as his reason for showing up unannounced. “i’m starting to think your fan might be more of a stalker.” jd’s voice is a low rumble, amused by the entire situation as he’s bringing yet another purchased gift from beau’s bakery to taylor for delivery. this is the third one in as many weeks from a secret admirer.

flipping his hair from his face - his hands are full, and he’s not about to risk dropping this shit, not when he’s made it all the way here without incident, a feat considering he’s just got the bike - jd moves past her to set the box on the counter. “sign this.” he whips out the order receipt, holding it out for her to take.

“would you stop calling me a snack?!” beau tries to swat marshall lee’s leg but it’s too high up. he knows, objectively, that people find him attractive. the number of customers that flirt with him sometimes makes him uncomfortable. he’s only ever really able to respond when marshall lee does it though, it’s become so commonplace. 

“and have you eat half the frosting in the process? never again. i had to make a naked cake one time because you ate everything!” he goes to grab the bowl, pouting frowning when the menace holds it out of reach. damn his “height” advantage. 

“a kiss toll? really? how old are you again?” the tips of his ears are as pink as his hair and he hopes that helps them blend in and go unnoticed. but seeing as marshall lee is well versed in noticing anything bonnibeau-related, he knows he has no such luck.

“why should i? i’m telling the truth!” he sticks his tongue out at beau, ever the nuisance. he loves to rile bonnibeau up, likes to see him with his feathers ruffled.

grinning at the accusation, marshall lee shrugs a little. “don’t make things taste good if you don’t want me to eat them, bubba, i don’t know what to tell you.” he holds the bowl over beau’s head, teasing him with it for a moment, before he gets bored even with that.

“old enough.” he sinks down, very nearly touching the ground but not quite, allowing himself to be an inch or so taller than bonnibeau. “why, my prince, you’re positively pink!” his voice is light and teasing, reaching out with the hand not holding the bowl to cup beau’s cheek. “you’re lucky i don’t eat colour anymore, you’d be hard to resist when you blush like this.”

leaning in, marshall lee gives beau a light kiss, resting his hand on the back of beau’s neck gingerly. it’s always a head rush to be able to do this, no matter how long he and beau have been back together. nothing ever really compares to being able to kiss beau whenever he wants. not music, not sweets, not even any of his sick vampire abilities.

“euphoria, looking as radiant as always.” klaus makes a point of visiting his usual haunts at least once a month, just because he’s on the wagon doesn’t mean he can’t see his friends. and euphoria adrian is one of his favourites, it’s no real secret, he used to hang around the bar almost every night just to see her.

he presses a kiss to her cheek in return, falling easily into the casual affection like it hadn’t been forever since he’d been here. “still full of piss and vinegar, still way too much fun to tease.”

“think i’ll just stick to virgin drinks tonight, still surprisingly on the wagon.” it helps having five at home, and the other boys popping in every once in a while. their presence serves as a decent distraction. he can almost bare the ghosts and the yelling and screaming. almost.

posing dramatically for him, to show off her outfit, she laughs, reaching out to hug him in greeting. “i think you left these heels at my house once, actually!” holding her foot out for klaus to see her shoe, euphoria holds his shoulder for balance. “look familiar at all?”

five sounds like a lot of fun, despite the fact that she’s never met him and probably never will - klaus isn’t the type to bring his baby brother to a place where everyone knows his exploits, especially not one who would definitely use the blackmail material. “cutecutecute! your brothers are all so cute, klaus, like a litter of puppies.”

“the only virgin thing about you, i’m sure.” euphoria teases, arm around klaus’ waist still as she turns to the bar. “soda? shirley temple? arnold palmer? should i surprise you with my impressive knowledge of non-alcoholic drinks?” 

billy rolls in on the cart he’d rescued from the far reaches of the parking lot, he pack bonded okay? it looked so sad and faded and he just had to give it another chance at life. 

he wheels in just in time to see some douchecanoe take the last cart and completely blow off mr. lahey. first of all, rude. second of all, rude as hell. isaac’s literally the softest man alive, how do you say no to him? and especially when he’s got a crying missy on his hip. wait, why is missy crying? 

“here, mr. lahey, you can use my cart!” he’d been sent out by peter to get snacks for the apartment, but really, he doesn’t need a whole cart. he’ll just end up filling it with garbage food anyway. it’s for the best, really. 

“awe missy, there’s no need to cry~” he coos, holding a finger out in greeting, and pouting exaggeratedly to try and make her smile. 

he would probably ignore a stranger trying to talk to him at night too, to be fair. even one with a kid crying.

it doesn’t stop isaac from sighing heavily, shoulders sagging, resigning himself to having to juggle a sick, crying toddler and all their groceries.

it’s the night after the full moon. isaac feels tired to his bones. he just wants to sleep, he just wants melissa to be soothed, to be feeling better, and them both to sleep in tomorrow.

at the familiar voice behind him, isaac turns. “billy! you’re a blessing.” he’s never been so relieved to see his daughter’s babysitter in his life. 

“to be fair, wally and i had been dancing around each other for much longer than a week. and uh, well, you know how it is with gar.”

“man i don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s no secret, i’m just super hot and have charisma for days.” he can’t keep a straight face, he’s aware that people find him attractive, and he’s gotten his charm from bruce over the years. though he’s probably a lot smoother than his adoptive dad by now.

“yeah... i kind of thought that you and wally were already dating, honestly.” he’s not the only one, either. most of their friend group, and all of peter’s brothers, thought the same. “really surprising to find out you guys just started. i would’ve put money that you had your like, third anniversary coming up!”

“i mean, i guess i don’t know how it is with gar.” if he thinks about it, he can recall some party, being far too tipsy for how young he had been at the time, and someone suggesting spin the bottle, which had seemed like a great idea to drunk high schoolers. gar had been in the year below peter, so they didn’t know each other all that well, but that doesn’t matter in a game like that.

ah, to be young and shy to kiss boys again.

“gar and i went to high school together, but i can’t truthfully say i would date him. he looks too much like my brother.” gar’s resemblance to billy isn’t lost on peter. it’s not the weirdest thing he’s ever seen, though, so he doesn’t bother himself too much with it.

“okay, look, hear me out.”

if they call eating chinese food in charlie’s living room and shooting the shit about the podcast a meeting, they can write the bill off as a work-related expense. not that they really accomplish anything other than a glorified mukbang, but the thought’s there.

life sort of hurt sometimes.

james doesn’t like to think about it all that much.

not being numb all the damn time had been nice, while it had lasted. but alyssa is gone, now, and she took the warmth in his life with her. james feels like a zombie, going through the motions just for the sake of having something to do. 

which brings us to now. he’s staring mindlessly across the mall, headphones on, mostly full order of fries in front of him, growing cold and limp as james ignores them. people aren’t looking at him, thankfully. he isn’t quite sure he could handle the attention.

the peace doesn’t last forever, though. he looks up as someone blocks his line of vision, eyes wide. pulling the headphones down so they rest around his neck, james swallows.

his throat is dry. swallowing doesn’t help. he feels like his body’s collapsing in on itself, everything’s gone supernova.

that numbness he had been complaining about? james kind of misses it already.

     jason was reorganizing the same section of the store for the third time that day. this was getting ridiculous. he was a grown-ass man and there was no way he was going to lose this battle of wits to an eleven-year-old who couldn’t even get through a hundred pages long book. like, really? ❛ fucking kids, man, ❜ he murmured under his breath, placing the last book in the proper position so the whole young adult section wouldn’t spell penis repeatedly. ❛ anything i can help you with? ❜ he asked without looking at who he assumed was a costumer.

he’s been praying, a little, that the man rearranging all the books actually worked here, and didn’t just like helping overworked employees in his free time. relief is palpable on credence’s face when jason addresses him, nodding slightly. “could you, please?”

his voice is so soft it’s hardly audible, meeting jason’s eye for a second or two before turning pink and looking away, down the aisle. “i can’t seem to find the book i’m looking for.” he gestures towards where he’d been looking, an aborted little motion.

billy’s been watching steve since they sat down to eat, a question obviously on the tip of his tongue. he’s surprised it hasn’t put steve off his meal, given how intently billy’s been watching him.

he waits until steve’s taken a decent sized bite - can’t interrupt him if he’s got his mouth full, after all - before voicing his question, finally.

“what do you think about dogs? about having a dog in the apartment?”

steve’s his roommate, after all - safety in numbers, safety in familiarity, even if they rubbed each other the wrong way more often than not - it’s only fair that billy should ask him.

“they’re supposed to be therapeutic.” it sounds like a dirty word. before this... whole thing, billy would’ve knocked out anyone who said the word therapy to him. “or something.”

“baby boy, guess what? it’s almost your birthday.” 

prokopenko would have no way of knowing whether or not kavinsky’s telling the truth.

he’s god when it comes to alexander prokopenko. he could tell him they’d decided up was down now, and prokopenko would probably believe him. kavinsky wouldn’t change him for the world. of course he wouldn’t, he’d made him the way he wanted him to be.

the real proko’s driver’s license is locked away in kavinsky’s safe, and kavinsky could make one that said whatever he wanted it to, depending on when he wanted proko’s birthday to be. he thinks a fall birthday might be nice. fall’s pretty, proko’s pretty, and kavinsky needs the excuse to do something wild.

“Mm, not that I mind.” He chuckled, running his hand through Achilles’ hair. He very much welcomed the distraction, his brain was well close to fried. 

“I can not at all, I enjoy it.” With him being so focused on school and his internship, he didn’t get to spend as much time with Achilles as he would have liked. He constantly felt guilty for it. “Do you just want to do this all day? Lay here?” 

“very tempting.” achilles hums, closing his eyes as though he’s going to fall asleep under patroclus’ attentions. “though i believe ice cream wins out.”

This was probably the scariest thing that Allison had done her entire life and that’s saying a lot given her family. Isaac had been that one bright spot in her life and of course, because she was an Argent, she let that slip between her fingers too. Melissa had been a surprise to the both of them and Allison knew she wasn’t ready to be a mom. Not when she was dealing with her family and she was young. It’s why she had given full custody of the child to Isaac who was so much more put together than she was even with his own shit going on in her life.

Now she was in Amber Falls and putting her new life together and trying to be involved in her baby’s life. She was so grateful that Issac was the kind of person he was and was working with her. Allison still didn’t have quite a handle on how to care for a child but she was trying, bag over her shoulder with everything she’d been given to take care of Melissa as she made her way into his place. “You need to let me know how you’re the baby whisperer because she’s cried four times, didn’t want her food and I’m not as skilled in making those funny faces as you are. I think she just wanted her daddy.” Which Allison wouldn’t fault the kid for. After all, she didn’t know who Allison was really right? “But she’s in one piece so I think I did okay for my first day out with her. She may have suckered me into getting her a new stuffed animal. It’s the eyes. She’s got your eyes and God only nows, they’re impossible to say no to.” She rambled as she put the things down and held up the little stuffed unicorn. “Cute though right?”

he’s trying to get used to the fact that he doesn’t have melissa glued to his side every hour of every day anymore. isaac would never deny allison the right to see her own daughter - she literally birthed her, which isaac could not say the same, despite his obvious hand in the whole thing - but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to deal with his separation anxiety.

he’s finishing some leftover paperwork as allison lets herself in. she has a key because she’s the mother of his child, which still blows isaac’s mind to think about. looking up from where he’s spread his things across the dining room table, he smiles in kneejerk response to seeing melissa anywhere near him.

“she’s a daddy’s girl, i’ll give her that much.” he reaches up, accepting her into his arms. “hi, sweetheart! did you have fun with mommy today?” melissa’s hands are immediately occupied with trying to pull his glasses off, which he should have expected. he leans away from her tiny hands, trying to keep his lenses from getting helplessly smudged. “i think billy might be teaching her how to pout, and we’re both doomed if he does.”

adam grins, trying to hide the embarrassment, even though he knows exactly what he’s doing. or, at least, he knows thanks to wally. “between wally, tony, and proko, i think i’ve got the family covered.” he laughs, tucking his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders a bit as he follows gansey out to the pig. 

“i can get the door, but thank you for offering.” he’s been working on letting other people do things for him as a means of being nice or polite. and he knows gansey is trying, but a car door is something he can definitely manage on his own. 

adam finds it staggering how a simple car can make him feel so many emotions at once. adrenaline. safety. affection. excitement. he always has to ground himself, especially now as he pulls the car door open. “but really, are we just going and getting lost for the heck of it, or is there any semblance of a plan forming in that ridiculous brain of yours?”

it’s one of those things that gansey doesn’t know how he knows, when he knows that adam’s birth family isn’t worth snot to spit with. adam doesn’t seem to like to talk about them all that much, and gansey’s respected his wishes thus far. “not a bad family to be adopted by. wally sure seems fond of you, at least.”

sitting behind the wheel of the pig is coming home, familiar in a way that the emptiness of monmouth isn’t. he runs his hand over the leather of the steering wheel as adam gets in, glancing over at him. “i believe that the only plan is that there is no plan. it’s an adventure, adam. we’ll drive until we get where we’re going. or the pig runs out of gas, whichever happens first.”

gansey speak. he’s got no idea. he knows that adam knows he’s got no idea.

“For Crowley’s sake…”

Baz was thrilled to get out of the states, but he seemed to be thrown right back into it. At least he knew where he was the first time around, now he didn’t know where he was. He just wanted to go home, he wanted to go home to Simon. 

“Which circle of hell am I in?”

the weather’s starting to turn, but thankfully marcus won’t be outside this winter. luck’s been on his side that way. he’s got his hand curled around the flame he’s lit, trying to light his cigarette, when baz - who could, reasonably, be talking to himself, and maybe marcus should let him get on with that, if so - speaks up.

“circle of hell?” marcus considers a moment, counting on his fingers. “was it... the fourth? that was the one for angry people, right?”

he doesn’t really know dante. well, not classic dante at least. but they’d released a comic version of the inferno, and that had been way easier to read.