Jasico and where the fuck did that clown come from pretty please ;)
Wow this should’ve been done ages ago.
Why Nico and Jason always got stuck with the weird monster hunts, he didn’t know, but that’s usually how these things ended up.
And nothing screamed weird like like trying to smoke out two man-eating cyclopes in a haunted house on the eve of Halloween. Well, it was certainly out of the ordinary anyways. Maybe not the weirdest thing Nico and Jason had even been put up to, but still up there.
“Why is it always us?” Nico muttered as they crept through the mirror room in the house. Jason was a little off to his left with a flashlight in his hand, very much not in the spirit of the whole haunted house thing.
“I guess we just really pissed someone off up top.” Jason said. The gold of his sword reflected the light coming from the flashlight, so Nico could see the annoyed face Jason was making.
The made it through the mirror room without too many problems. Jason stepped on a squeaky board right before they left the room and Nico almost had a heart attack. This was ridiculous, a son of Hades frightened of some fake cobwebs and well placed strobe lights.
The next room was even darker, since there were no mirrors to reflect any light. Suddenly, there was a slight wind and something jumped out at the two of them.
“Where the fuck did that clown come from?” Jason said quietly, voice tight. Nico had jumped minutely, but it was obvious the guy in the clown costume had been hoping for some more shocked screaming and yelling. On instinct, he raised his sword and suddenly the guy had his hands raised.
"Hey man, I don’t mean no harm, just doing my job. Jesus Christ, dude, put the bat down.” The clown said.
“Um. Right.” Nico lowered his sword. “We’re…we’re gonna go now.”
He and Jason sidestepped the clown, and Nico could now feel Jason’s fingers wrapped tight in his shirt. They trekked deeper into the house,
“I really fucking hate clowns.” Jason muttered. Nico laughed to himself.
DO WOLFSTAR AND 20 I THINK? THE ONE WITH THE COOKIES
Remus forgot how much Sirius liked to bake. He had forgotten the juvenile memories he had of sitting in the Potters’ kitchen at absurd hours of the morning, watching James and Sirius throw jokes around from opposite sides of the kitchen, where Sirius was standing over a bowl of brownie mix and James was sneaking tastes when he thought Sirius couldn’t see.
Now though, with Sirius standing in the kitchen of Grimmlaud Place at 2 in the morning with raw cookie dough seemed…sad, rather than heartwarming and comforting.
“I know you’re there, wolf. If you want a taste, come here.” Sirius said without turning around.
Remus crossed the kitchen, allowing the mixing spoon to enter his mouth. He nodded his approval, “Good.”
“Just like old times,” Sirius said. He sounded far off.
“Dorea would be proud.”
Sirius’ face grew a minuscule smile, “Yeah, I suppose she would.”