#*cracks knuckles* i guess i gotta do what i do best

[myloversthesunrise]

trying to find explanations and theories about the dusk court and all i found was elriel (ugh) and the multiverse theory which i couldn't care less

[slaybestieslay946]

Everything About You - Luke Castellan

Summary: You've been Luke Castellan's closest friend ever since he arrived at camp, but unbeknownst to you, he's been desperately crushing on you this whole time. And of course, the feelings are reciprocated. In hopes of getting over you, he agrees to give it a go with someone else. Will he realise how you feel before its too late?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Ares!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: uh sorry for shitting on that demeter girl sm, there needed to be some conflict somewhere

also please forgive me for this fic being crazy self-indulgent and therefore not up to par with my usual writing, i needed to express the obsession i have w this man otherwise I'd go INSANE

MASTERLIST

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You thought you knew everything about Luke Castellan. 

After 5 years of being best friends, how could you not? You knew about the big things in his life, his damaged mother, the strained relationship with his father. You understood his anger towards the gods, the way it fuelled him to be better, work harder. 

You knew about the little things too. He liked green olives, not black ones. He always stuck his leg out from under the duvet when sleeping. He sucked at tightening his armour, always convincing you to do it for him.

You could recognise each and every one of his tells. He always cracked his knuckles before sparring. He scratched the back of his neck when he was nervous. 

But the one thing you didn’t know about him was the way he felt about you. You, who was normally so observant, was entirely oblivious to the gentle touches and soft looks he threw your way. And that, more than anything, was driving him crazy. 

“You gotta tell her how you feel man.” Chris said to him, noticing the way his gaze would constantly stray to the Ares table. Your table.

Luke scoffed, “Yeah, right. I’d rather die…” 

“Yeah, well it’s driving me nuts. All this pining. It’s-”

“Pathetic? Tell me about it.” He responded, not taking his eyes off you. 

“Well, yeah. It’s pathetic. At this point, either confess your undying love, or move on.”

Luke could safely say that neither of those options sounded particularly appealing. 

“There’s that new girl, y’know the one in Demeter?” Chris continued.

“What about her?”

“She’s pretty cute, don’t you think?” 

Luke tore his gaze away from you to look at the girl Chris was on about. She was pretty, sure, with pale blond hair and flushed cheeks. He recognised her as one of the girls that would always sit in the fields and entertain the kids with her flower magic. But still, she couldn’t hold a candle to you. 

“Yeah, she’s fine I guess.” Luke responded, noncommittal.

“See, told you so! Look, how about I set you guys up-”

“No thanks.” 

“Ugh, you're no fun. Fine, just talk to the Demeter girl at the campfire tomorrow.” 

Luke opened his mouth again to refuse, but Chris cut him off. 

“And if you do, I’ll stop bugging you about it. Promise.” 

Luke looked at his pleading face, and knew that there would be no shutting him up until he agreed. 

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.” 

*

The next morning, Luke woke up earlier than normal, so he figured he might as well get some extra training in before capture the flag in the afternoon. 

He climbed out of bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb his many, sleeping, half-siblings, and grabbed his sword, stepping out of the cabin into the fresh morning air. He jogged down towards the amphitheatre, and was confused for a moment when he could hear movement inside the small arena. 

Then, as he walked closer to the entrance, he realised it was you, slashing dummies left right and centre. And, gods, the sight took his breath away. 

The early morning sun shone on your face, highlighting your sharp features. You moved like a dancer, and the sword in your hand was merely an extension of your body. Yes, they called him the best swordsman in the last 300 years, but his technique couldn’t compare to the grace of the favourite daughter of Ares. 

He watched you for a few more minutes, standing just in the entrance to the amphitheatre, until he realised it might be a little creepy to stand there and watch you, so he decided to make himself known. 

“What are you doing up so early?” He called out, striding forwards towards you. 

You quickly spun around, a shocked expression on your face that softened into a fond smile when you realised it was just Luke who had snuck up on you. 

“Oh, y’know, just preparing to beat your ass later on.”

“Aw, really? Hate to break it to you, but you don’t stand a chance.” 

“Wanna test that, soldier?” You smirked, gesturing to the sword in this hand.

Luke laughed, stabbing the sword into the sandy floor and cracking his knuckles, meanwhile you took up an offensive stance. 

And, as soon as he picked up his sword, you were on him, ruthlessly slashing through the air, and he barely had enough time to block the blow before you sliced through his face. He returned your strikes with equal vigour, moving with the precision and technique that he was so famous for. 

With the way the pair of you fought, anyone would think you hated one another, trading blow for violent blow, both of you refusing to hold back. 

Of course, it was the complete opposite, but that had never stopped the pair of you from sparring so aggressively. 

The session went on for close to half an hour, neither of you wanting to surrender to the other. Eventually you were bested, as Luke sent your sword flying from your hand, holding his own up to your throat. 

You held your hands up in defeat, rolling your eyes at him, before moving to sit down at the edge of the arena. 

“I’m still gonna win in capture the flag today.” You remarked, your voice strained from physical exercise, but jovial nonetheless. 

“As talented as you are,” He responded, sitting down next to you, “You're not gonna be able to beat Annie’s new strategy.” 

“And what might that be?” You said, shuffling closer to the boy. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased. 

You pretended to sulk at that, turning your body away from him in the process. Luke frowned, pulling your arm to turn you to face him again. 

“Don’t be sad. Even if I told you you still wouldn’t win.” 

“Whatever. Asshole.” You mumbled. 

“What did you call me?” He asked, accusatory, and you quickly made your escape, running out of the amphitheatre to avoid his wrath. 

But, of course, he managed to catch up with you easily, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

Somehow, you both telepathically communicated a need for breakfast, and your feet naturally led you both to the pavilion. 

“I’ll see you later on, yeah?” You asked, detaching yourself from him to look him in the eyes. 

“Mhm. Can’t wait to kick your ass.”

You laughed, cocking your head at him, “Why are you thinking about my ass Castellan? Bit weird.” 

And then you were striding away towards Clarisse, leaving the Hermes cabin counsellor frozen, a faint blush covering his face. 

Maybe Chris was right. His addiction to you was getting slightly out of hand. 

*

“That boy is so obsessed with you.” Clarisse muttered, her voice derisive as you sat down opposite her. 

“Who? Luke?”

“Who else?” 

“Nah, no way.” You responded, chuckling as you grabbed a slice of toast from the centre of the table. 

Clarisse rolled her eyes. How oblivious could you be?

“Whatever. As long as your little romance doesn’t get in the way this afternoon.” 

“No chance. Besides, there is no romance. Gods, you’re just as bad as Silena!” You laughed, slightly sheepishly. 

“Rude. But still, she’s right about these things like 90% of the time.”

Silena had been trying to get you to admit that you liked Luke for months, but each time she brought it up you would staunchly deny it. Of course, you were lying through your teeth, but it’s not like you could just admit something like that. It would open up a whole can of worms that you didn’t need. 

“Yeah, well this is the 10% then.” You shrugged, taking another bite of your toast.

“You’re impossible.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You know I’m your favourite sibling.” 

“You were my favourite. I don’t know anymore.” 

“Bitch.”  

*

When Ares and Hermes were on opposing teams, suddenly capture the flag became even more serious. 

Ares, of course, was the warrior cabin. Their father was the god of war, making them the most feared in combat. And, most of Camp half-blood was scared shitless of you and Clarisse.

Then there was Hermes, and their automatic alliance with Athena. That meant they had Luke, the camp's star swordsman, and Annabeth and her siblings, who always came up with the best strategies. 

It was safe to say that when they weren’t competing against each other, it was painfully boring. 

You only had about half an hour before the game started, so after you had secured your armour and recovered your sword from the amphitheatre, you decided to seek out Annabeth, both because you enjoyed her company, and because she may spill something about her new strategy. 

“Hey, Annabeth!” You called out, and the young girl spun around to give you a little smile. 

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see how things are going over here, y’know, scope out the competition.”

“I’m not gonna tell you our strategy.” She deadpanned. 

“Damnit. Oh well. What’ve you been up to, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

It was true, you hadn’t spoken to Annabeth for a few days, nor had you even seen her.

“She’s been too busy stalking the new kid.” Luke’s voice interjected and he stepped out of seemingly nowhere to pat the girl's head. 

“Shut up! No I haven’t.” She sulked, pushing him off of her. 

“Wait, which new kid is this? Percy?” You asked. 

You’d seen Luke show the boy around camp. You’d been briefly introduced, but you hadn’t spoken to him all that much. The only other thing you knew about him was that Clarisse had a bit of an issue with him. Well, she had an issue with a lot of people, so that wasn’t exactly new. 

“Yep. Can you believe it? My little sister has a crush!” Luke exclaimed, holding a hand to his chest. 

Annabeth then gave him a small shove, before something clearly occurred to her, and she gave him that look that meant she had something on him. And whatever the blackmail was, it worked as he immediately held his hands up in surrender. 

“Sorry, sorry! You could never like a boy, I know that!”

Annabeth didn’t respond, simply glaring at him whilst you laughed. Sometimes, she really was intimidating. Despite being only 12 years old, she had a stare harsher than medusa. 

“Anyway. You need to get going, otherwise you're definitely gonna lose.” Luke said, pushing you away by your breastplate. 

“Fine.” You said, and were about to walk away when you noticed his own armour, as usual, wasn't done up properly. 

You walked back towards him, sighing, and grabbed the straps on either side of his body, pulling them taut, doing the same for the guards on his forearms. 

“You seriously need to learn how to do these yourself, soldier. One day, I might not be here to do them for you.”

“That’s not true. You’ll always be with me.” He whispered, more hopeful than certain about his statement.

You just rolled your eyes, grabbing his helmet out of his hands to push it on his head. 

“There. Can’t have someone hurting your pretty face, can we?”

“Uh-”

“Bye, have fun losing!” You laughed, and then you were walking away, once again leaving a malfunctioning Luke in your wake. 

“And you say I have a crush.” Annabeth snorted. 

“Shut up.” 

*

Pretty much as soon as you made it back to your team, the conch sounded, and Clarisse shouted at you to ‘get your ass over here’. 

She then quickly outlined her plan to you as you both made your way deeper into the woods, the rest of your team splitting off at different points as you went. 

You two, as well as a few others, were to be on the offensive, searching for the flag, meanwhile the rest of your team were either guarding the flag, or serving as distractions. It was a pretty typical strategy, but it had every chance of working, as long as you two were able to work out roughly where the other team's flag was. 

“Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t be at Zeus’ fist this time, that’s where Annabeth put it last time, and apparently she has a new strategy.” 

“She could be lying to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s a place to start.” Clarisse reluctantly agreed, and the two of you moved further into the woods. 

Along the way you came across a few of the blue team on border patrol, and the pair of you quickly disarmed them, you with your sword, and Clarisse with her electric staff. 

You made your way down to the south edge of the woods, and it appeared that the number of blue troops were decreasing. Normally you would take that as meaning the flag wasn’t this way, but knowing Annabeth that could be some kind of purposeful bluff, so you kept going, until eventually you reached a dead end and had to choose a different direction. 

“Ugh, the others better be closer than us I swear. I’m not losing again.” Your sibling said, batting aside a tree branch with her crackling staff. 

“Yeah. I’m sick of having to listen to Castellan gloat.” You sighed, although the noise was more fond than anything else. 

Clarisse rolled her eyes at your inability to keep him out of a conversation. 

Then, there was a sudden noise of people crashing through the trees. You both raised your weapons, ready to defend yourselves, when you realised that they wore red helmets and were in fact, your siblings. 

“Oi, Clarisse, we heard some of them talking that they’ve got the flag down at the creek! And that brat Jackson’s guarding it!”

You noticed the way Clarisse’s eyes filled with anger (and a little bloodlust). 

“You keep going,” She said, “I’ll check it out with them.” She then patted you on the back and spun around, sprinting off into the woods. 

“DUMBASS! IT’S PROBABLY A TRAP!” You yelled, cupping your free hand to your mouth, but either she didn’t hear you, or she didn’t care, because she gave no response. 

You sighed, unable to believe how gullible your sister could be sometimes. But, you had nothing better to do than keep searching for the flag, so you kept walking, slashing through the undergrowth with your sword as you went.  

Eventually you felt like you had covered the entire forest, and at a certain point you weren’t entirely sure if you were still in enemy territory or not. 

That was until Luke Castellan burst into the clearing holding your flag. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” He smirked. 

“Asshole.” You snapped, immediately leaping at him, sword in hand, just as you had during sparring that morning. God he loved your temper. 

You then began to battle one another with even more zeal than earlier, your slashes quicker and your blows harder as you moved. It was strange the way you two sparred, it was like as soon as you were in combat you forgot that he was your closest friend and that you would die for him in a heartbeat. Instead all you could think about was winning. 

He was so annoyingly graceful as he moved, each swish of his sword perfectly calculated to hit at a certain spot, each block and parry almost perfectly executed. 

Of course, your anger at his flawless technique was only further intensified when you realised that one: he didn’t have a shield, and two: he was holding his sword in his non-dominant hand, with the flag in his dominant one. 

You ground your teeth at that. How could you expect to ever beat him if he held his own so easily? Whenever you watched Luke Castellan fight, you couldn’t help but wonder how he was a son of Hermes, and not a son of Athena or Ares.

And, as always, he defeated you eventually. 

He threw a blow at you that you couldn’t quite block, and the force of it sent you toppling backwards, and landing on your ass. He quickly lunged down too, pinning you to the floor and holding his sword to your throat, so close that it almost broke skin. 

“Do you surrender?” He asked, grinning smugly down at you, and you couldn’t help but notice just how close his face was to yours. 

“Never.” You spat, furrowing your eyebrows at him. 

He sighed fondly, before moving upwards to press a quick kiss to your forehead and saying, “You’re so cute, y’know that?” 

Now it was your turn to be left malfunctioning, your face bright red with astonishment as he leapt off of you, and ran away into the forest, leaving you behind, on the floor, and completely and utterly frozen. 

And then you came back to your senses, pushing yourself off the floor and chasing after him. 

“LUKE CASTELLAN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” You screamed, sprinting through the woods as fast as you could, but you knew there was nothing you could do to catch up, and you could faintly hear him laughing as those stupid long legs carried him over into friendly territory. 

*

It appeared that a lot had happened during that game of capture the flag. 

Luke had gotten your flag, and was about to go over and taunt Clarisse about it, but he immediately saw that she was even angrier than usual, and seemed genuinely upset. 

He quickly went over to ask Annabeth what was going on, watching as you ran over to console her. 

“Percy broke her staff.” She said, pointing to the shattered piece of wood in Clarisse’s right hand. 

Luke winced. He knew how precious the girl was about that staff; it was the only token she had from her father. He was surprised Percy was even still breathing right now. 

“Wait, where is Percy?” Luke asked.

“With Chiron. He got claimed.”

“What? By who-?”

“Posiedon.”

The boy’s jaw dropped. 

“You’re joking. No fucking way.”

“Tell me about it. He could be the one, Luke.” The younger girl said, her voice quiet and hopeful. 

“Hm. He could be. Don’t get your hopes up too high though, yeah?” 

Annabeth sighed, but nodded nonetheless. 

Luke then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder, before beginning to walk away, intending to get a shower in before dinner, but Annabeth quickly stopped him in his tracks. 

“Where are you going? It’s dinner, silly!” 

“What, no it’s not-” 

“Yes, it is. Campfire tonight, remember? Early dinner? C’mon, you’ve only been here for what, five years?” 

Luke groaned, and suddenly all the adrenaline from Percy being claimed, and from winning capture the flag melted away, as he remembered the deal he had made with Chris the night before. 

He traipsed behind the daughter of Athena on the way to the dining pavilion, suddenly dreading the rest of the evening. 

As the pair entered the building, a cheer went up from the Hermes and Athena table, a few of their respective siblings rushing over to give them pats on the back and congratulations for their efforts. 

Luke laughed along with them, eventually being dragged away from his sister to his own table. 

Then dinner began, and it was as loud and raucous as usual, maybe even more so coming off the back of a capture the flag victory. But Luke was unusually quiet, pushing his food around his plate and taking the odd sullen bite. He could feel Chris’ eyes on him, probably pissed off he was sulking again, but he didn’t really care. 

He could also feel another gaze on him, and he looked up, expecting it to be you, giving him a feeble glare or mouthing some stupid insult. But instead it was the girl from the Demeter table, twisting a lock of hair around her finger and smiling sweetly at him. 

The boy felt slightly disappointed, but masked it with a grin of his own, winking at the girl before returning to his food. 

He felt that strange sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to eat, but decided to push it away. What choice did he have? It’s not like you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so maybe Chris was right and he should give someone else a chance. Besides, how bad could it be?

*

As it turned out, it could be really bad. 

Ok, maybe that was an overstatement. Really boring was probably more accurate. 

As soon as they got to the campfire, Chris disappeared, but not before practically shoving Luke down beside the girl from Demeter, who let out a high-pitched giggle as he fell into her slightly. 

And gods he wished he hadn’t agreed to his friends stupid plan. Because he then had to spend the rest of the evening being obnoxiously flirted with. And sure, she was nice, and quite pretty, but not in the way that mattered. 

She didn’t take his breath away like you did. He couldn’t imagine searching for her face in a crowd. The whole thing was just dull. 

And her laughter was grating. Really grating. There was no way she thought he was that funny, especially when he was giving mostly one word responses. 

They had nothing in common. She liked lounging about in fields, playing games and making flower crowns, whereas Luke couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d much rather spend an afternoon sparring, or at archery, or even swimming in the lake. 

All the things you liked to do. 

He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you, not whilst another girl was clamouring for his attention. It was cruel. But he couldn’t help himself. 

And eventually he gave in, switching off from the conversation and settling for observing you through the flames. 

Your hair was down right now, like it only ever was at dinners and in the early morning. You lounged back comfortably on the benches, smiling lazily and joking around with Clarisse and Silena. Your face was lit up by the flickering flames, complimenting you so well, like they just wanted to be near you, close to you. He couldn’t blame them. 

And then your eyes met his across the fire, and he thought his heart was about to combust with the way you smiled at him. He recognised that smile. It was the one you reserved just for him. 

At that moment he steeled his resolve to reject this Demeter girl, grab on to you and never let go. 

But as he was about to do just that, he felt a slender hand wrap around his bicep, and he turned to the blonde girl next to him. And without any warning, she reached up and kissed him, snaking her arms up and around his neck. 

He pulled away after a second, shock written all over his face. He quickly whipped around, looking to see if you saw that, praying that you hadn’t. 

But you had. And you seemed just as shocked as he was, except there was something else in your eyes. Hurt.

Why were you hurt?

*

As you walked away from the campfire, you couldn’t help but ask yourself the same question. Why were you so hurt?

You had known for years that your pathetic crush on Luke would never amount to anything. He was just way out of your league. Perfect in every way. 

He was so smart, and kind, and funny, and well-liked, and you just couldn’t compete with that. You were rough, and mean, and cruel, and angry. Why would he love someone like you? 

 Of course, you hadn’t seen the daughter of Demeter coming. But maybe you should’ve. She was everything Luke should want in a girl, gentle, sweet, feminine. Someone fit to be a girlfriend. 

And let's face it. You were much more skilled in matters of the sword than matters of the heart. 

You had always known this day would come. Eventually you’d have to let go of your best friend and come to terms with the fact that you weren’t the most important person in his life anymore (besides Annabeth). 

So why were you so devastated?

You reasoned that it had to be the shock. Yes, it was surprising, that’s why you were reacting like this, running away from the campfire like a child, foolishly hoping that he would come running after him, when of course he wouldn’t. He’d stay with his new girlfriend. 

“Hey!” 

You whipped around, shocked to see the very boy you were just pining after running up to you. 

“What?” You asked, snapping at him slightly, and immediately regretting it as he took on the look of a kicked puppy. 

“Why’d you run away from the campfire?” 

“Just needed some air.” 

“You sure? I mean you look kinda-”

“I’m fine! Just fine! Now you can go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone!” You burst out, waving your hands around manically. 

He looked shocked by your sudden shouting, probably because you had only genuinely been angry with him about three times in your whole friendship. 

“Sorry. Just give me a minute, ok?” You said, your voice shuddering slightly. God it was pathetic, getting so worked up over a boy? You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You then turned around and began to walk away, but didn’t get far before a hand grabbed yours pulling you back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He said firmly.

“What?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even really know her name.” 

He then apparently realised how that sounded, because he quickly amended his statement. 

“Not like that. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t like her like that. She just kinda grabbed me.” 

You stammered slightly, trying to regain composure. Right now you looked like a jealous loser, and while that is what you were, you didn’t want him to see you like that. 

“Ok cool. I don’t care, y’know. Kiss whoever you want, man, not my problem!” You laughed although it was painfully strained. 

“Again, not what I’m trying to say.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. Nervous. 

“So what are you-”

“I’m trying to say I’m in love with you!” He rushed out, holding you by the shoulders and staring directly into your eyes to try and get his point across. 

“What?” You whispered, once again not able to believe your ears.

“I said I’m in love with you,” He repeated, slower this time, his voice more even, “I’ve been in love with you for so long, you have no idea. I was only talking to that girl ‘cause I thought I’d never have a chance with you. But then I realised that I don’t want some other girl. I only want you.” 

You took in a sharp intake of breath, scanning his face for any sign of insincerity. 

“You’re being serious?” You asked.

“Deadly serious.” He responded immediately, smiling sheepishly. 

You paused for a minute, before whispering, “I love you too.”

Only then did he finally make his move, holding you gently by the face and bending down to kiss you. 

And it was like a piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. It was painfully cliche, and it felt like you were in some dumb rom com, but kissing him really was like fireworks going off all over your body. 

He clearly felt the same way, holding you by the back of the head and pulling you in further, closer, like he didn’t want to be apart from him ever again. 

Eventually you both pulled away for air, and he looked at you with a smile of pure joy, until the shock of the whole situation hit him. 

“Wait, so you really mean it?”

“I mean, I did just let you kiss me, didn’t I?”

“Good point. Sorry, I’m just a little surprised.”

“Fair enough. I mean, I had no idea you felt the same way.” You laughed, all the previous tension ebbing from your body. 

“What, really?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised. 

“Yes, really! How was I supposed to know? Besides, I didn’t think I was really your type.” 

At that his eyes practically bulged out of his head in shock, more so than any other time that night.

“Not my type? You’re entirely my type! Not like it matters anyway when you're the most perfect girl I’ve ever met in my life.” 

You frowned, “Now you're just lying to me, Luke.” 

“No I’m not. You're everything I’ve ever wanted. The only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He said firmly.

You looked at him, still slightly doubtful, but he was determined to fix that. 

So he kissed you again, and suddenly all your doubts were swept away in his strong embrace as he kissed you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. 

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah. And, I guess you’re pretty great too.” 

He looked at you teasingly, daring you to elaborate, and for once you decided to stroke his ego. 

“Fine. You're the most handsome, funny, charming man I’ve ever met in my life.” 

That clearly satisfied him, because a wide grin wriggled its way across his face that you couldn’t help but mirror, because you both knew you meant every word.

“So does this mean you’ll give me a chance?” 

“Yes. I’d give you a hundred chances.” 

[cleo30300]

M.A.A.D CITY. CHAPTER FOUR! MONEY TREES.

warnings : mention of drugs (1), violence ( extremely minor ), cursing, arguments.

previous part. | next part.

Knock Knock.

Your knuckles hit the door in a rhythmic pattern, the door to the Morales’ home, that is. You would think that maybe you’d have a key by now since you visit so much, but Ms. Morales doesn’t like you that much, you guess.

There are a few beats of silence before you hear shuffling approach the door and the tired voice of your best friend.

“ Who is it? “, he grunts.

“ Me. “

Miles’ voice doesn’t reach your ears again for a few minutes before he’s sighing and unlocking the door.

The wood swings open to reveal him, Voltron pyjama pants and all. His hair is the same as when you last saw him, a little frizzy at the top, but neat braids brushing his collarbone. He needs a haircut.

“ What’s up? “, he says blankly.

“ You’re not gonna let me in? “

“ I don’t gotta let you in. You don’t live here. “, he stares at you like he can’t believe you just asked that question. Like you just asked for a brick of crack. “ What’s up? “

You’re starting to get a little irritated. Barely any communication for a week and when you show up to see what the deal is, you’re met with a grumpy teenage boy who looks like he’s about to break apart into glass shards.

“ I just wanted to see what you were up to, Miles. Don’t get so upset. “

“ ‘M not upset. I haven’t been up to anything, so you can go now. “

“ What’s wrong with you? “

“ Nothing’s wrong. You show up at my house and then you keep on asking me stupid questions like I don’t have anything else to do except talk to you. “, his eyes narrow. The once gold specks in the hazel colour are gone and replaced with anger. Your fist clenches, like he just punched you in the gut and you’re about to reel your own hand back and sock him with it.

“ What the hell is your problem? You barely even talk to me anymore and then when I try to be a good friend, you catch an attitude! “

“ I don’t have a problem! Estas Sordo? “ Miles moves his hand from the doorknob, reaching to grab your upper arm and push you back from the frame, not hard, but enough to get you to move out of his personal space. That you’ve hardly even invaded.

“ Go somewhere else. “, he spits.

“ Fine. “, your eyebrows are furrowed together. You’d been holding a sour expression for so long that your face was sore when you dropped it as soon as the door slammed in your face. Your feet automatically move to the exit of the building. A lump of guilt and anger welling up in your throat while you walk.

What the hell is his problem?

——

Miles swears he wants to choke you out. You’re so nosy. Can never mind your own business. He bounces his leg up and down, cracks his knuckles, drinks tons of water, tries to watch television, anything to get that conversation off his brain. So annoying. You should’ve never even come over. He wasn’t going tell you what was going on anyway, and you know that because you know him. Maybe you don’t know him, since anyone who knows him knows not to show up at his house uninvited.

Hard Headed. Cabeza Dura, whatever you want to be called. It doesn’t change the fact that you don’t listen, ever. It’s not like he ever told you not to come over, it was an unspoken rule!

I am avoiding you. Do not come over.

Easy as that.

You act like one dollar will turn into a million if you come over and act like the mediator between him and his thoughts.

But when he thinks about it, is it really as easy as that?

Of course, you’d come over.. but— not to argue with him. He didn’t want to argue with you, there was no point. He should’ve just said “ Okay. “ and left it at that. Maybe tell you the truth while he’s at it. The truth.

It’s Friday. The trip is next Sunday.

He hasn’t told you, he hasn’t told his mom, he hasn’t told Uncle Aaron and he certainly won’t be telling his school counsellor what the hell was going on in his very busy life. It’s eating him up on the inside. Tearing him apart and pulling out his hair. What will he do?

What would you do?

Tell the truth.

Shut up.

He has to tell his mom. Mama first, then everything else. She’s the only parent he has left. That makes his heart ache thinking about it. He should get over it, nothing is going to change the fact that he’s gone.

Why is every thought he’s ever had coming to the front of his mind right now when he’s about to tell his mom the craziest information? That he’s going on a trip 2244 Miles away from Brooklyn to Vegas of all places?

Right.

His fingers are shaking, he’s going to drop his phone or something. Just get it over with.

He messes up the passcode two times before getting it right, and then he mistypes, “ Mama “ in on the contact list once before he gets his shit together.

Do it.

The call button is right there.

Just do it.

Shut up.

translations:

Cabeza Dura. — hard headed.

Estas Sordo? — You’re deaf?

[barry-j-blupjeans]

People didn't wander aimlessly through the woods like they used to. For a good while there, neither Edward nor Lydia had had to leave Wonderland for advertising. Someway or another, a poor hero or party would stumble through the Felicity Wilds and get drawn into Wonderland for their own various reasons— fame, riches, glory, all of the above. Word of mouth, of course, was to best way to advertise. But once you've killed someone, their icky flesh body started decaying much too fast. It was hard to leave the Felicity Wilds in a timely manner and still look enticing enough to lure people back in.

But this year had been rough. Maybe they scared away too many folks— Edward had to be honest: having the body he was possessing crumble to literal dust in front of the crowd he was advertising to hadn't been the best way to sell the glory of Wonderland. And letting people actually leave Wonderland was a no-go. They had learned that rather quickly.

So they were back to the basics. Magicking up their spectral forms into something appealing (though, with the lack of Suffering, it was getting quite hard to keep it together. Thus, why they could only go out as a pair.) and drawing unsuspecting forms deeper into the Wilds, straight into Wonderland. The old one-two, conversationally speaking.

And people just didn't wander aimlessly through the woods like they used to! So when Edward finally found their first catch of the day, it was important that he didn't slip right through their fingers.

"Oh," Lydia said, seeing the man not a second after Edward had. He could already hear the note of arrogance in her voice. "Oh, he'll do beautifully."

Indeed, the man looked like a perfect victi— ahem. Guest. He was human, older in age, so they'd have much more memories to draw on. He played the part of a worn-out traveler quite well. Mussed hair, and a worn, heavy satchel that jingled with every step he took. It was too quiet to be coins, but the white-knuckled grip he had on the strap of it told Edward it was something much more valuable than he could guess. His pants— though quite an unusual style, but who was Edward to say, having been dead for so long— were stained with mud. There was a bit of blood against one corner of his shirt, where the fabric had ripped.

But to be so steely with determination still? To walk through the Felicity Wilds alone and still be going strong? Edward did have to agree. Wonderland would suit this man perfectly.

"Long way from home, friend?" Edward asked. His form materialized next to a tree and he proceeded to lean against it. The man turned, startled. There was a crack in his glasses. Lydia appeared behind the tree, peeking out at the man as if she had been there the whole time.

"You, uh, you could say that," the man said.

"You're very brave, going through the Felicity Wilds alone," Lydia said. "Are you on your way to somewhere?"

"I'm, uh—" the man hesitated, looking between Lydia and Edward uncertainly. He seemed to be deciding on what to say. After a second, he continued with, "I'm looking for a place called Wonderland."

Bingo. Better than bingo, actually. Edward glanced at Lydia. They shared a grin.

"Wonderland, you say?" Lydia said, hand over her chest.

"You— I'm gonna hazard a guess and say you're familiar with it?" the man said.

"You could say," Edward said. "and what brings you to Wonderland, if I may ask?"

The grip the man had on his bag tightened. The object inside jostled, gently ringing again, and Edward felt inexplicably drawn to the sound. He could tell Lydia was, too, but they both refrained from showing. It was never a good look to be desperate or over-eager.

"I have… an artifact," the man said, slow and carefully choosing his words. "Of— of immeasurable magical power. And I was told that no one who goes into Wonderland ever, uhm, ever comes out. That's— This needs to be somewhere that no one can reach but— but they know they can try. It's— it's gotta be wanted. It's— it's—"

Searching through people's memories was a tad harder outside the walls of Wonderland, much less when they were this low on visitors. Still, Edward reached out with his magic, carefully slipping into the man's mind.

The world was ending. And then it wasn't. And then it was, again, and again, and again. It was a rush of information— much more than Edward had seen in the oldest elves, let alone a middle-aged human. Memories flew by fast enough that Edward couldn't catch any in his hands. A red haze was settled over the entirety of it all— Edward could see it clear as day.

The man was a lich.

This made things… much more interesting.

"Say no more," Lydia said, holding up a hand. Edward blinked himself back into the present, trying not to let his face show any surprise. "Lucky for you, we just so happen to know the way to Wonderland."

"For what price?" the man asked.

"What, you don't trust us?" Lydia said, pulling off a pout Edward had the displeasure of seeing her practice. At the man's face, they both laughed a little.

"I must say, I admire a man with a touch of hesitation," Edward said. "But we'll lead you with no extra charge. If this object is truly that important, then I say getting it to Wonderland is our highest priority, Barry."

"I never told you my name," the man said.

"You didn't have to, darling," Edward said. "Running a fortress in the middle of the Felicity Wilds lets you pick up a few things here and there."

"You—?"

"You'll have to excuse him," Lydia said, "My brother loves a dramatic reveal."

Edward could feel fire running through his veins, a pull in his chest leading them straight back to Wonderland. Lydia's cool and pleasant face broke in a way only he could see through— one victim would have been enough for a while. But the possibility of more was too savory to resist.

"We'll set off now," Lydia continued, "and we'll be there before dark."

"Now," Edward said as Lydia set their pace and the man stumbled after them. "Tell us more about this artifact."

[otakween]

Digimon World 3 - First Impressions

Yaaay, so excited to be continuing this series! Well...can we even call it a series? I guess it's kind of like Final Fantasy where the games don't connect (sometimes). The numbers give me a sense of accomplishment anyways. Digimon World was bonkers and memorable for its weird mechanics, Digimon World 2 was kind of a flop, but enjoyable enough, not sure what the world's opinion on 3 is. Either way I'm ready for the long haul -cracks knuckles-

Notes:

This is the first Digimon game I've played that feels like a riff on Pokemon. There's badges I'm supposed to earn, towns to explore with all the usual RPG buildings (inn, item store, etc.), people who challenge me to battles as I walk by them, and the only digimon that earns EXP in battles is the one at the front of my party. I see this as a win because I enjoy the Pokemon gameplay loop.

Already got two CG animated cutscenes (FMVs?) I think the animation looks good! It holds up more than some of the other games I've played anyways. The bear digimon especially looked really cute in the opening. The other cutscene that played when I entered the digital world was great for immersion.

Load screens are kind of annoying, but oh well. I guess I can fast forward if they get bad. The text scrolls very slowly as well, which maybe I can adjust.

So the main character "Junior" and his friends go into the Digital World or "Digimon Online." In this game's canon (so far anyways) the Digital World is a game. I found it kind of strange that they all logged in together and then immediately were like "kay let's split up, bye." If they were going to split up then why were Teddy and Ivy like "wait for us Junior!! You're going too fast!"

I suppose this game world is supposed to be an MMORPG because a lot of the human-looking characters I spoke to referenced playing the game and their real lives as well. Gotta love a game within a game. The map/world doesn't really have an MMORPG vibe to me, but oh well.

Since I accidentally chose the "hard mode" pack in the last digimon game, I decided to give myself a break this time and go with the "balanced" pack. The Maniac pack has the best digimon imo, but I ain't taking any chances.

I was just reading about the game and I guess it has around 20 game-original digimon? Excited to meet them all. I'm sure some of this game will also be a preview for the next anime season.

The sleepy digimon in the inn were really cute

Love the sprites and how your digimon walk behind you. Too cute. It looks like they put a lot of effort into the background as well.

I've heard some stock sounds and music from past games already which is fun

I felt a little bit of dread when they mentioned the card game. I really like the digimon card game, but having to battle and play cards in one game kinda sounds like a pain. This is gonna be a long one...

When I played Pokemon when I was younger I would just level one Pokemon up and not give EXP to anyone else lol. I know that's not good strategy-wise, but because that one Pokemon would hog the EXP they'd be overleveled and it made the games easy. For the sake of "playing the game correctly" I'll try to do it right this time and move the digimon around.

[pastriibunz]

ok!! It's kinda like a character study during the moments with Paul in the Starlight Theatre. Here u go!!! (starts after the "~~~")

~~~

Welp, Kai thought, there it is.

"The old Starlight Theatre," Paul says. "There it is. The meteor."

It's weird, calling him "Paul". Kai has come to think of him more as "Dad" now.

(For now, she won't call him anything at all).

"So that’s it?" she says. The meteor is nothing pretty to look at. It's boring as a rock (probably because it is a rock) and the theatre, usually so alive, is anything but.

"Mhm." Paul responds.

"Welp."

Kai thinks back to her earlier thoughts, to her relationship with Paul (Dad?)

She always had a habit for finding any adult who she could trust and immediately imagining herself as their kid.

In her defense, her own parents abandoned her and mistreated her for the first 9 years of her life, so–

No, you can't think about that.

She cracks her knuckles. "Someone's gotta save the world," Kai says. Why her? Why does it have to be her every single time?

"I guess so," Dad (no wait, Paul– what?) responds.

If anyone were to look at him, they wouldn't be able to see the determination on his face, the fact that he really wants to blow up this meteor. And he will protect Kai.

He'll protect me? No–

Kai realizes a few things, then. One, Dad is Paul, and Paul is Dad, and nothing will change that. Paul is Dad and Emma is Mom and they will try to keep Kai safe forever.

Two, well– Kai's not stupid. She knows someone has to give up their life to blow up the meteor.

Three, it's not gonna be Dad.

Kai pulls him into a sudden, big, tight hug. She isn't expecting him to reciprocate, but to her surprise, he does.

"…thank you," Kai says. She has to let him know that he and Emma meant everything to her, before–

"Wha- You’re welcome?" Paul half asks, confused.

He's not getting it.

"I’ve honestly never felt accepted anywhere." Kai states, because that's what it is– a statement, a fact.

"Like, even where I was happiest, I’ve always just- been the outcast." She thinks back to Unigton, to her hometown. To the weird looks she always got when she was just being herself.

"But– but you…you made me feel like- for the first time in my life– you made me feel like I belonged somewhere."

She starts stuttering.

Fuck.

She continues.

She continues.

"Not– not many people can do that for me. So, um, thank you for that."

"…You’re very welcome, Kai. I’m glad to make you feel like that." Paul Dad says after a moment.

"Y’know," Kai starts, "the- the apocalypse may have been one of the worst things to ever have happened to me, but- but it’s also one of the best! Because- because if it didn’t happen, I would’ve never met you. And- and I don’t wanna live in a universe where I never meet you."

As soon as the words come out of her mouth, the self doubt creeps in. She's being annoying. Paul's not gonna like her anymore. She's being annoying. She's being annoying. She's being–

"The feeling’s mutual, Kai. I’m really happy I got to meet you."

She's not being annoying.

And the moment comes and goes, and she has to do it. She has to. Dad loves her too much.

"…and that is why I am so sorry it had to happen this way."

She takes the grenade belt off of Dad and puts it on herself, then takes her headphones and put them around Dad's neck.

(Her headphones are one of her most prizes possessions. She won't be needing them anymore.)

"What? Kai, what are you-"

"Do me a favor, and keep on living for me, okay?" Kai pleads. Her voice is shaky.

"…Okay?"

Paul is so confused. Why can't he understand?

"And tell Em-"

Emma? No, that's not right.

"Tell mom I love her. And that I’m sorry."

That's better.

"...I will," Paul promises, "but why are you telling me this? What are you sorry for?" His hands move wildly. He is scared.

He has to know–

"I love you, dad." Kai says to him, and chuckles sadly. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped referring to him as "Paul" in her head.

"Dad. That’s got a nice ring to it, don’t it?"

Her Unigton accent is coming through, but that's okay.

It has to be okay.

"…Yeah. Yeah it does." Paul says, as if taking a title he knew he'd earn for a while, and yet is still surprised.

"I love you." Kai says. "I love you more than words could ever express. And I’m so, so, sorry that it had to come down to this."

"What-"

Kai looks up at Paul, memorizing every detail of that face she'd never see again. She wishes Mom was here, but she'll have to make do with what she's got.

"Stay safe for me, okay?"

Before Paul can respond, Kai pushes Dad out of the Starlight Theatre, barricading the door with a nearby chair so he can't get in.

"What?! Wait, no! KAI!!!" Paul yells from outside, but she won't can't hear him.

Her eyes are blurry, and she realizes she is crying. Tsk, tsk, tsk, that won't do.

She wipes the tears away.

"C’mon. Kai," she mumbles to herself. "Save the world. Like you always do."

oh

my

FUCKING

GOD.

OW

DUDE

OW

listen, not many pieces of media make me audibly groan in pain

THIS DID

hOLY FUCK YOU DID YOUR HOMEWORK

gOOOOOOD DAMN

im gonna be thinking about this for a while

holy shit

SHOUTOUT TO YOU FIC ANON GODDAMNNNN

[soulnottainted]

She Said Maybe

Ayooo new romantic needs a fic! Word gets out a certain someone has a crush. And it doesn't go well. Not at first anyway.

tagging @feathershiips @astralshipper @madangel19 @jocelynships and @canongf

Rabbit and Zer0’s optics widened as Kelsey told them, the petite human fidgeting with her hands as the truth came out. Nerves made her slightly tremble as she broke the news to the two bots. This had never been told to anyone else and for the longest time didn’t even escape her lips. But now it was time.

“Oh my g-g-gosh, Kels!” Rabbit exclaimed before instantly hugging her, “I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

Sheepishly, the human blushed, “Yeah I had a long time to think about it. I’ve always thought about the possibility, and the more I thought about it, the more I fell for him.”

“N’aww, well you gotta know, you chose one of the best,” the female automaton winked, “Spine’s perfect for a cutie like you! Like I said, I saw this from a mile away, I c-c-called it!”

“You’re truly a magician, Rabbit!” Zer0 exclaimed, in awe before turning to his new human friend. Kelsey hadn’t known Zer0 for very long, but like the other bots, she instantly felt at home around him. Hatchworth still hadn’t returned from goldfishing…whatever that was.

Rabbit cracked her metallic knuckles with a playful smirk, “I try my best. Kels.” She then paused, eyes comically blinking, which was the norm, “Hey, have you told him yet?”

A sudden contrast came from Kelsey, tensing up, like a flower that instantly closed up from a hit of cold wind, “No.”

A couple moments passed before she sighed softly,  “No I haven’t. Every time I pass him I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Been trying, but I guess…”

Her mind wouldn’t let her speak for a few moments, “I guess I’m afraid he wouldn’t accept. What if he said no? I don’t want to lose the friendship we have either. It’s gonna be awkward and then that means I would wanna distance myself, which I don’t want to do.”

The copper robot lady placed a cold but comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder, the corners of her lips squeaking as she smiled softly across her porcelain face, “If I know The Spine, he would say yes in a– I was gonna say heartbeat but….y’know.”

Kelsey didn’t answer.

“You get what I’m puttin’ down, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Rabbit sensed her convincing wasn’t working. 

“And to top it all off, why do you think he sings those songs like a lovesick puppy?”

“I guess you're right, Rabbit,” Kelsey sighed with defeat, hands clapping down to her sides loosely, “But I just…I don’t think I’m ready to tell him. Maybe just a bit more time. I mean, I just reunited with you guys, I don’t want to rush it.”

“Understandable hun,” she winked at her like the older sister figure she was to the human, “Zer0 and I will keep our lips sealed! Won’t we Zer0?”

Zer0 beamed brightly at the mention of his inclusion “Oh yeah, absolutely! You can count on us, Kelsey!”

“Good,” Kelsey breathed out almost all air out of her lungs at the pressure that was taken off her, “I don’t think I could live with myself if he knew, not right now at least.”

“Don’t worry too much! I know once he hears your sweet little words he would be wrapped around your fing’ah! Now how about you calm down a bit, you get washed up, and we’ll get some ice cream from the kitchen!”

A pause.

“I…thought you all didn’t eat.”

“Oh no, we don’t. We like to watch it melt!” Zer0 chimed in.

.....

“Gotcha. Alright, I’ll be right back. Remember, lips sealed.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” both the bots saluted her.

With a nod, Kelsey turned and started to make way towards the hallway door that lead to the spare room that she had inhabited for the last several days. But her walk was cut short, just about made it to the doorway in fact. Zer0 started hopping up and down, the words Kelsey told him and Rabbit sinking into his databanks, and it was exciting! It was such a cute thought! Oh he couldn’t contain himself! He had turned to Rabbit, immediately forgetting what the human just carefully explained not to do. Then-

“OH MY GOSH KELSEY HAS A CRUSH ON THE SPINE?!”

That’s when Kelsey froze mid-step like a cartoon character. And as if on cue, a familiar deep voice could be heard.

“Zer0, what did you say?”

“Uh oh.”

 She gulped. Dammit. She was afraid of that. Oh god, run.

It was insanely silly that she wanted to bolt out of the room, but her anxiety always worked that way, always wanting to flee from embarrassment. Crap crap crap-Just a few more steps and close the door! Do it!

“Better get going,” she started to babble, “Got things to-”

“Nowholdonjustaminute.”

A different metallic hand, gentle but firm, touched her shoulder, just enough to keep her back. He didn’t need much effort however since Kelsey’s legs immediately felt like Jello. Her mind raced, trying to come up with some sort of semblance of a sentence to say. 

“No– Spine, I can’t do this right now,” the young woman blurted out.

Her body and mind agreed with that statement. She was already in a state of anxiety and fear that was going to be put away for another day. This completely interrupted her peace of mind, thrusting her into a situation of internal panic.

“Kelsey, please listen for a moment, will you?”

The Spine felt the human’s shoulders tense up even more, which caused him to ease his voice even more so, his vocals already sickeningly sweet to listen to normally, “Just listen.” Both his hands turned Kelsey around with ease, as if controlling a marionette. Steam hissed from his vents, before continuing,  “I heard every word.””

“You…You did?”

Her head quickly looked at the doorway The Spine came out of. He most likely was listening behind there the entire time.

“I….I did,” he admitted, tilting his head down, his fedora covering his vibrant green optics, “I didn’t want to interrupt anything. And when I heard what you three were talking about, the…initial shock wore off.”

Oh boy. The human started to fidget, her body started to tremble a little, trying to prepare itself for the conversation of denial. 

“It’s okay,” she started, “I can take it,” Kelsey’s voice immediately became strained, the poor girl was completely vulnerable.

Confusion crossed the tallest automaton’s face “What?” 

She automatically assumed…

“What are you talking about, darlin’?”

“You…You’re open to it?”

“Oh Kels, I didn’t doubt it for a second, and I never would. You’ve been talkin’ about me all that time, but what you didn’t know is that during that time, I’ve done a little of the same thing myself. ”

Rabbit smirked wide, tapping Kelsey gently on the shoulder, “I told ya!”

“R…Really? I had a full speech and everything, I practiced it for weeks in my head before coming to visit,” she murmured.

A sharp, deep laugh escaped The Spine, touched, “I am sure it would’ve been very impressive…” But then he quieted, noticing Kelsey’s nerves still present, even though they passed the nerve wracking moments. “You alright there, Kelsey?”

“Oh! Um, y-yeah. Yeah I’m fine, I was just…expecting the complete opposite.��

“Well how could I deny a beautiful sweetheart such as yourself? I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about your smile.”

Spine went to speak, but was cut off by his sister, who noted with pride and hilarity, “Oh yeah, I can v-v-vouch for that! He would go on for hours after shows, wondering where you were in the world. He was so worried he wouldn’t see you again, especially after all that time.”

The human blushed so pink that all the three bots thought she would explode. She couldn’t even make eye contact with The Spine, which made him smile even bigger.

“Well…here I am,” she shyly laughed.

“Indeed you are,” he chuckled before motioning forward with his hands ever so slightly, his insanely tall figure towering over the barely five foot tall girl, “ C’mere darlin’. C’mere, you know you wanna.”

“Yeah…Yeah I do. I really do,” Kelsey walked into his arms as if she wanted to do that for such a long time. From the sidelines, the two bot siblings giggled like schoolgirls as the Spine enveloped Kelsey into a hug, then dipped her slightly towards the ground, smirking down at her with half lidded optics. Kelsey giggled brightly, her nerves going away as she looked up at him.

“You’re right Rabbit, they are so so cute!” Zer0 shook his head, “Makes me wanna cry oil out of my eye ducts! The Spine singing lovey dovey songs actually go towards something now!”

The silver bot whipped his head around sideways and raised a painted eyebrow, “Very funny, Zer0.”

“I’m serious!”

Rabbit placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head with a giant smile on her face just like the others “It is true, though. Sooo now that you two lovebirds are a thing, what if you two brainstorm your first date?”

The Spine winked at his sister, “I think I might have an idea.”

Kelsey sat across from the tall silver automaton, a flower decorated teacup settled in her hands, the smell of cranberries coming from the contents of her tea. Meanwhile the opposite held his matching tea cup with hot water, occasionally pouring it over his shoulders and taking sips from it, his body turning into steam that gently hissed from his vents. He chuckled deeply as he heard his date wondrously info dump on him about one of her special interests, a tangent of the two talking about The Spine’s special interest in westerns and cowboys.

“Listen listen listen,” Kelsey laughed, jokingly pleading, “Hear me out, I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh? Do tell,” The Spine’s lanky mechanical arms crossing on the table with a smirk on his black oiled lips. Birds chirping outside the open concept gazebo across from Walter Manor, a slight breeze in the warm weather enveloping the two.

“Okay okay,” she started, still giggling like an idiot, “So there’s this show called Doctor Who and…”

“Kelsey,” The Spine paused for dramatic effect, “my dear, dear and very small human, I have been watching that show since it came out in 1963.”

A pause. “Ah yes, right. Over a hundred years old. Forgot.”

“Don’t think about it too hard.”

“Oh I won’t, believe me.”

Another pause.

“You’re beautiful,” he purred.

“You’re….pretty. You’re so so pretty,” Kelsey blurted out. She had no idea how to flirt. He found it adorable. He shook his head, tilting his hat before taking her warm hands in his cool metallic ones, squeezing lightly, leaning in to press noses with her, “Oh, I adore you.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Meddling Mar Monday

About time we checked in on the Demolition Brothers! The chapter index can be found HERE

Alma's kitchen was full of spices and vegetables that Jak had never seen before -- or maybe he had, but they'd been pickled and preserved beyond recognition in Haven. These were fresh, filling the room with vibrant reds and yellows and greens, and Jak couldn't help wondering what they tasted like raw. He gave his hands a perfunctory rinse at the sink and stood awkwardly beside a long strand of hanging peppers, waiting to be given some kind of direction. Daxter seemed far more comfortable, cracking his knuckles and opening cabinets without so much as a by-your-leave.

"Alrighty, where's your measuring cups?" he asked.

Alma snorted. "Measuring cups? I use the scale! Go get my pot of salt off the table -- black lid -- and don't you dare drop it, Pequeño! That stuff is expensive!"

She glanced down at Mar. "You gonna wash your hands or what?" she asked.

Mar unwrapped his arms from around the caprid fawn's neck and signed, "Or what."

Behind Alma, Jak groaned. Was this what it was like to be Torn? In sharp gestures he warned Mar, "Don't push her buttons, we need this to work out. Do you want to go back to the tower?"

"No!"

"Then be nice! Treat her like she's the Bird Lady or something!"

Mar pouted and wrapped his arms around Cabbie again. Jak noted the disapproval on Alma's face and grimaced at Daxter. They weren't off to a great start. Daxter grimaced back, but held up a hand as if to calm Jak.

Jak might not have remembered a lot of what he'd been like at Mar's age, but Daxter did. And Daxter could hazard a guess as to the root of Mar’s contrariness.

"Sorry about Junior," he piped up in a lighthearted tone, "He has trouble transitioning between activities, especially in a new environment. In my experience, you gotta set a clear expectation and timeline, and then stick to it."

Jak blinked. "Wait, really?"

His best friend gave him a wry look. "You were exactly the same, pal. I have experience."

Alma appeared to be considering this for a moment. At first, Jak thought she would agree to give Mar a few more minutes to switch between tasks. But then she pointed a skinny finger towards a low door at the back of the kitchen.

"If you aren't gonna help make bread, you can take Cabbie and go help with the caprids," she said, shrugging the shoulder that sat lower.

"Don't have to wash your hands for that."

Mar frowned thoughtfully and considered his options. If he helped outside, that would mean he was still playing with Cabbie, right? And then he'd get to see more caprids! So far they weren't much like crocadogs, but they weren't boring like yakkows, either. Mar liked animals, especially the ones that could play with him.

He nodded and pushed himself to his feet. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he asked, "Can I feed them?"

"They've already been fed today," Alma answered, "Don't believe them if they act hungry. They'd eat the house if they could. Just fill the water trough alright?"

Mar let himself out the back, and almost immediately came back in.

"Where's the water?"

As Alma had her back to him, Jak quickly relayed Mar's question. The woman didn't look up from tossing flour and water into a bowl.

"See those big meshes out there? They harvest fog. The barrels underneath catch the water. Use the tap to fill up a bucket -- turn it off before you walk away!"

"Okay!" Mar hopped back down off the step and into some kind of courtyard between buildings. Metallic jangling and caprids bleating nearly drowned him out.

Alma turned her head. "Close the door!" she called, "Don't let the little criminals in here!"

Upon hearing Jak's snicker, she scooted the bowl towards him. "Here, young-arms. Mix that until it's evenly goopy."

Well, that couldn't be too hard, right?

Wrong.

Jak's first attempt sent watery flour splattering across the counter, Daxter, and anything in range. His dismay must have shown on his face, because Alma didn't berate him. She grumbled about wasted dough, but it was under her breath.

"Not so hard, boy! You aren't trying to kill it!"

Being told not to kill something was a bit of a reversal from what people normally demanded of him. It was all destroy, destroy, destroy. And while Jak could admit -- and would admit freely -- to taking pleasure in the destruction of things, like mining platforms and KG bases, he'd always hated being ordered to destroy people. It was much too close to what Praxis had wanted to make him into. A soldier; an executioner. Made to destroy and good for nothing else.

I can do more than destroy, he insisted to himself, I'm gonna have to if I want to survive out here. How am I supposed to take care of Dax and Mar if I can't even make dough without ruining it?

But he couldn't ask for help. He'd look like some useless city-slicker who didn't know how to work! Gingerly, he pushed his fist into the gooey mixture again. It wasn't a very nice texture, all sloppy and wet. Gritting his teeth, he mixed and pushed until it clung to his hand from every side of the bowl. The texture was awful. He closed his eyes and told himself to ignore his skin screaming at him.

"Is...is this right?" He lowered the bowl to show Alma.

The landlady eyed it critically, rubbing her chin. "Good enough. Now we add the yeast."

Daxter hopped up onto the counter and nudged Jak sympathetically. "I got this. You get that gunk off your hands before you blow a gasket."

Gratefully, Jak ceded the bowl and did his best to scrape his hands off on the rim. The landlady probably wouldn't want him washing this stuff down the drain, he guessed. He suppressed a shudder and rubbed his fingers together under the pump water until the stickiness dissipated. Felt too much like metalhead guts.

"City boy," Alma scoffed.

Jak bristled. "Stick your hands in metalhead entrails a couple hundred times," he shot back, "and maybe you won't like the texture anymore either."

Alma lowered her brows at him. "Don't take that tone with me, chico," she warned.

"Then don't make assumptions about me," Jak retorted through gritted teeth.

Don't snap. Lower your voice. Hands where she can see them. If you're dangerous where people can see you, you'll get yourself and the guys kicked out.

For a moment they held each other's gaze, neither willing to back down in a silent standoff. Then Alma thumped her cane against the floor and scoffed.

"You've got some fire to you, boy. Good. I don't want any mealy-mouthed suckups in my house -- but you still better watch your mouth, eh?"

Jak grumbled an assent and flicked the last of the flour mixture off his fingers with a shudder. Dark eco hypersensitivity was a special kind of hell. It had been mercifully absent during their time in the convalescence ward, but the heat of the day seemed to be drawing it out again.

"I'm gonna check on M-" Jak caught himself at the last second- "My brother."

"Don't let any caprids in the house," Alma warned dismissively.

"And get your things up to your room! We don't have bellhop service here."

Daxter checked the yeast and tossed some flour onto the counter. "Uh...about that. Yeah, what you see is what you get. We don't have any stuff."

Alma half turned and looked around her kitchen skeptically, as if expecting to see a hidden pile of luggage. When no such baggage appeared, she shook her head -- whether it was in judgement or sympathy wasn't clear.

"When they come get you this evening to show you how to get groceries," she said to Jak, "Tell 'em Alma said you need a clothing allowance."

The room the boys would be renting wasn't particularly large. There was a sink, a tiny cook top, and a low table in one corner, a bathroom in another, and everything else was open space. Some hooks on the rafters suggested that previous tenants had divided the room with curtains for a while. That was probably the most privacy Jak was going to get in a place like this.

At least I don't have any extra clothes to worry about changing into. That definitely lowers the chances of Mar seeing my scars.

Pushed against the far wall, opposite the bathroom, was a low, wide, bed. There were no blankets on it, and the pallet was old and worn. But it was better than most places Jak had slept in Haven, and he wasn't going to complain as long as there was room for all three of them. He sank down onto a corner of the pallet and unlaced his boots with a sigh. As much as everyone kept repeating that he wouldn't be put to work, Jak knew it would only last until they saw what he was capable of. Which would mean he'd be able to keep them fed, but in this kind of heat it would probably be exhausting. Better to take it easy while he could.

[ossidae-passeridae]

🛒🎶🛠🏆 and ✨✨ i saw you dodging the other one >:(

Oh yeah mid here with the technical questions this'll be a fun one :3

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

*cracks knuckles* alright everyone settle in we're gonna be here a while.

Themes: loss of control, the interplay between fear and desire, situations which cannot be borne but must be, love as a partial deconstruction/destruction of the self, fear as a vehicle for self destruction, pain as catharsis, alienation from one's own body/status/existence... The strength of community working together?

Feels: Catharsis. It's all about catharsis in my works, all the other feels are simply vehicles to get us there.

Scenes: Standing over a sink full of blood and teeth (I literally have two WIPs with this right now), being trapped in a room with no way to escape, spiraling so far into one's mind that the physical world ceases to exist... My scenes tend towards night, and grime, and dim lighting, and the reflection of neon lights in puddled water on the pavement.

Imagery: water, the ocean, black holes, the vastness of empty space, sucking darkness, water drip drip dripping as a metaphor for slow decay, opulence as alienation. Food as a metaphor for love. Also that.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

This is highly dependent on what I'm writing! Sometimes it's integral I listen to music, other times I must have Total Silence(tm). Some fics I've written listening to one song on repeat include:

Pretty Waste (WIP): same titled song by Bones UK

broken pieces of the day: Delirium Tremens (Falling Down a Hole.) by A Burning Century

Rōnin: which continues to be written while listening to the same-titled album by Zack Hemsey

Overall I write a lot listening to She Wants Revenge and Crüxshadows, which I think tells you a lot about me!

Six Months in a Leaky Boat was written in a furious haze, and I'm sure that I did listen to a lot of music throughout it (there's no way I'd be able to put together the musical interludes otherwise), but I cannot for the life of me remember any specifics.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

This one depends a bit on the scope of the work. For most things, I use gdocs because I swap between devices as my brain throws various hissy fits. For longer and more invested works which requires pages of planning and worldbuilding, I prefer Scrivener.

For gdocs, I also use a plugin called Draftback, which lets me look over my document edit history (with graphs!). I find that I can use these to pick out when I'm floundering on a fic and need new eyes on them - my graphs go from nice straight lines to horrible spotty messes.

🏆 What’s your most popular fic?

Hands down it's gotta be 'sometimes the feeling is right' ahahaha. What can I say, everyone loves medical accuracy bordering on medfet I guess??? It's my most viewed, most kudosed, and most bookmarked work!

Eternal thanks to @canonical-transformation who betaed it for me when I was yelling into a pillow about it not working with me 💖💖💖 You are, in fact, the best

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

*loudly grumbles*

dae's writing is almost as cool as mid and aspires to their level of excellence 😤 HAPPY NOW

[keis-slut]

coming out|m.ashido

CW: ORAL SEX, FACE RIDING, SLIGHT PRAISE

Today was the day Im going to tell my best friend that i'm most definitely not straight.

how do I know?

Well, i've fallen in love with her.

She made me feel this sort of way and realize i've loved her for a while.

I've given it a bit of thinking for a few days, and I think I should start off by telling her I like girls first.

Instead of just throwing everything on her at once, I think just coming out would be easier for now. Plus,

she's probably straight.

I hug my knees to my chest as I sit against my bedframe, nervously waiting for Minas arrival.

I feel my black sport shorts riding up my thighs as I pull my legs tighter against myself, feeling my heart pounding against my chest.

My hands feel clammy against my shins as I hold onto my legs, then perking my head up as I hear footsteps from down the hall.

A twist of nervousness sits in my chest as I hear a knock against my door.

"y/n!" I recognize the knock, and the voice on the other side of my door, as I get up to let her in.

I pull the door handle and open the door for her.

"h-hey, Mina!" I stutter and she giggles as she walks in.

"are you alright?" she questions as she walks next to me while I close my door behind me.

"your face is a bit red" she notices, and leans in closer, only making my face warmer.

"I-I'm okay! just...I-" I struggle to get my words out as she tilts her head, her smile fading.

"somethings off" she says, pulling her arm out to grab my hand and bringing me to my bed.

She sits me down next to her and looks into my eyes.

She pulls at her white tank top to adjust with how she's sitting, drawing my attention to it.

This was probably a big mistake due to the situation im currently in, as I notice she's not wearing a bra and I can almost subtly see her breasts through the thin fabric of her shirt.

My face goes more red as I look up at her again, but she didn't notice I was looking at her chest, which I guess saves me for now.

"what's going on? you look like you need to talk about something" she points out, and I gulp as I grow nervous again.

"I do, yes. but i'm nervous" I say, crossing my legs on my bed in front of her.

"You know you can tell me anything, y/n"

She comforts, her voice growing quieter.

I sigh and look down, my heart beating against my chest as it grows quiet for a minute.

"I think I have an idea on what it is" She blurts, causing me to jump up and look at her.

"w-what? you do? w-what are you talking about?" I scramble, and she moves closer to me.

My chest heaves as she grabs my hand.

"y/n...do you like girls?"

She asks, tilting her head.

My body shivers as goosebumps erupt over my arms and legs, and I feel another twist of anxiety grow in my chest.

"h-how?! I-I...what-"

Mina brings her hands to grab the sides of my face, and she leans in to stare into my eyes.

"I'm so happy i'm not the only girl here who is!" She yells excitedly, throwing herself on top of me and hugging me.

Suddenly, my nerves ease, and I take a moment to process what had just unfolded.

"w-wait...you...you like girls?" I ask Mina, my face flushing red once more. She lifts her head off my stomach and sits up, just as I go to do the same, and she nods happily.

"I do!" She says, smiling like an idiot.

"why didn't you tell me before?" I ask, leaning towards her.

"well, I was just as afraid as you...but I didn't think I had to say anything until it felt right to do so" She explains, and I nod telling her I understand what she meant and how she felt about it.

"I'm just glad we both know about this now!" She laughs, and cracks her knuckles as I nervously laugh.

But she notices that and stares at me again.

"Is there...something else you've gotta talk about? I'm still here to listen of course" She says, leaning back on her arms.

"yeah, but this one i'm not sure i'd be able to talk about right now" I say, standing up from my bed and shutting off my light.

"aw, why?!" Mina yells, following me around my bed to the switch for my black light I had installed in my room.

I turn it on, and everything had a sudden glow to it.

And just as I turn to face Mina, I see her eyes are now glowing bright from my black light, and she walks up to me right as my back is pushed up against the wall.

My heart pounds against my chest as she leans close to my ear, her chest now pushing up against my own.

"is it... that you have a thing for me, y/n?" She whispers seductively in my ear, then leaning back and facing me.

I bite my lip as she leans her face closer to mine.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about you, though"

She practically mumbles against my lips, as I feel her finger tips rubbing my sides, pulling at my sweater.

"fuck, Mina" I whisper, before our lips finally touch.

I feel the nervousness in my chest explode into a feeling of relief as she kisses me back.

Or more like, dominates the kiss.

Before anything more happens, I pull away and look into her glowing eyes.

"are you sure this is how you feel?" I ask her and she smirks.

"why would I lie to my best friend?" She answers my question, with another question, her voice growing slightly deeper.

She starts walking backwards as she grabs my hand to pull me along with her.

I follow back to my bed, and she lays down on her back.

Grabbing both of my hands, she pulls me ontop of her.

She brings her hands to my cheeks and pulls my face down to kiss her again, and she moans into the kiss along with me.

I scoot closer, just as my knee is between her legs and almost brushing against her clothed pussy.

I feel her body move down, and between her legs now pushing against my knee.

She lets out a loud moan as she rides against my knee, and I feel her tongue poke at my lip.

I moan and open my mouth, allowing our muscles to now dance together.

I feel her hands move from my face to the bottom of my sweater, then slipping her hands underneath and pinching at my nipples.

She breaks the kiss quickly and looks up into my eyes.

"can I take this off you? i've been practically dying to play with your chest" She admits, and I feel between my legs throb slightly at her words.

I bite my lip and bring my hands to the bottom of my shirt, lifting it over my head without a second thought.

"I'll only let you if I can do the same to you after" I moan, bringing my fingers to rub circles on both her nipples, which were noticeably erect through her shirt.

She hums out a moan as her hips jerk forward, her damp pussy rubbing against my leg once more.

"yes please" she begs, then bringing her hands to grope at my breasts.

She sits up suddenly, and rolls over to pin me down on the bed.

I let out a moan as she leans down to kiss between my breasts, using her hands to gently massage them.

I trust her, as a girl herself, to know just how to make another girl feel

good.

She brings one hand to squeeze at my breast, while her mouth attaches to my other breast, feeling her tongue waste no time before tracing circles around my nipple.

This alone erupted a loud moan from me, and I could feel between my legs growing more and more eager with each flick of her tongue.

She sucks against my nipple, her teeth gently rubbing as well.

My hand moves up to tangle in her pink pastel colored hair, gently pulling at it as her lips tugged at my nipple.

She removes her mouth and goes for the same treatment on my other breast.

This only lasts a few seconds before I go to sit up, turning us over so I was now on top again.

"now it's my turn" I say, pulling her shirt just above her breasts as they bust out from under immediately.

This only makes me more excited, feeling the arousel grow between my legs.

I bring both my hands to squeeze at her boobs, just as she did mine, and I could feel how slick inside my panties were becoming as licked her right breast.

I quickly took her nipple between my teeth, using my fingers to pinch at the other.

She moans gently as she leans her head against my pillow, and I feel her hand making it's way up behind my head as I flatten my tongue against her nipple.

I clasp my lips around her now sore nipple, and suck at it, feeling her twitch underneath me.

I'm not sure how much more of this foreplay I could tolerate, I just really want to be between her legs already.

I remove my mouth from her breast with a small 'pop', and move myself to her other breast as she moans for more.

"I hope i'm doing a good job so far" I mumble against her breast, and she moans with a nod.

She brings her other hand down between her legs and starts to rub against it.

"i'm soaked just for you...i'd say you're doing a great job" She whimpers, now using her fingers to circle between her legs.

I remove myself from her chest, and make my way down to her legs, using my index finger to hook against her pants.

"mind if I help you out?" I ask, starting to pull at her bottoms.

"please, y/n. take them off" She whines, bringing her own hands to pull down her pants, panties going with it as well.

"fuck" I moan, helping her get them to her ankles, and dropping them beside my bed.

I bring my hands to her thighs and gently spread them open.

I lean my head down to kiss against her inner thighs, her aroused scent filling my nose as I could see her folds dripping before me.

I couldn't help myself as my hands make their way to her hips, and I lean my face closer to her slit as my tongue pokes out of my mouth.

She brings a hand behind my head, as to pull me towards her just as my tongue reaches her soaked pussy.

She moans out loud as my tongue presses up harder against her clit,

and I bring my fingers down to rub at her entrance.

"more, please" She moans, opening her legs up more as she practically lowers herself down on my fingers.

I bring my lips to suck against her clit as I slide two fingers inside her, getting a shocked whine from her.

The noises she made just from me pleasuring her aroused me even more, as I continue to suck at her clit and my fingers curl inside her, I bring my other hand down to mess with myself as well.

She arches her back just as I curl my fingers deeper, and she moans as her chest heaves up and down.

I'm guessing I had just hit her g-spot, and i'm going to take note of that.

Her hips start to ride with the rhythm of my fingers and my tongue abuses her clit, and her grip on my hair grows tighter as we continue, along with her moans becoming more fast and shallow.

"don't stop, p-please...i-i'm-" She whines, a squeak coming from her throat as I latch my lips against her clit and suck with my fingers proding at her g-spot.

Her moans grow higher in pitch as my fingers move faster, and my tongue does the same.

She throws her head back onto my pillow as I feel her clench around my fingers, and her hips buck upwards slightly.

I feel something warm, so I remove my fingers to see her orgasm drip out.

My only instinct at that moment was to take care of it myself, so I latch my mouth onto her folds again and use my tongue to clean up.

She breathes heavily as her body goes slightly limp, now drained from energy after her orgasm.

I lift my face from between her legs, and her eyes, that are still glowing, avert to mine.

"how was that?" I ask, and she groans.

"fucking amazing" She giggles, using her elbows to prop herself up.

I sit up and smile at her, waiting to see what she would try next.

Just my luck, she suddenly reaches her hand out, and pulls me above her.

But it wasn't enough as she brings her hands to my butt, pulling me so my pussy was just above her face.

"now, let's get these off" She giggles, pulling my pants down, along with my panties, and I help her slip them off my legs.

Once that's done she uses her hands to grab my thighs and pull me down onto her face.

"get over here" she purrs.

I moan unexpectedly as the warmth of her tongue against my pussy sends chills throughout my body.

"good girl"

She squeezes hard against my thighs as she moans against my clit, the sensation just sending another jolt of shivers through my body.

All I could really do at the moment was ride it out on her tongue, as I bring my hands to pinch at my own nipples again.

I felt her tongue as it paced itself between my folds, running up and down, occasionally flicking against my clit.

I could tell my clit was not the main focus for her yet.

But that was before she pulled me down onto her more, smothering her head between my thighs as her lips finally latched onto my clit.

I bite my lip and moan, feeling my thighs shake against the sides of her head as she sucks hard against my clit.

Suddenly I felt something push inside me, then noticing it was one of her fingers curling easily against my g-spot.

I let out a moan as I continue to ride her tongue, her fingers now perfectly poking at my g-spot as my walls tighten around her fingers.

I could already feel my orgasm building, just as Mina removes her face from my pussy for a second.

"please, y/n, cum all over my face" She begs against my clit, and the vibrations from her mouth sends me over the edge as my climax spills through my tight walls and over Minas pink fingers.

The majority of my orgasm lands on her tongue as she licks it up, and hums as she does so.

"you taste so good" She mumbles, picking her head up from between my thighs.

I try to move down, but only notice my legs are slightly shaky, so I just collapse next to Mina on my bed.

"just letting you know, i'm telling everyone about this tomorrow and we're celebrating" Mina giggles, and I playfully roll my eyes.

"about us fucking or just the liking each other part?" I joke, turning over to look at her.

"fucking" She laughs, and I sit up and gasp.

"no!"

"i'm joking! i'm joking!"

[cinamun]

They don’t trust Hope. She left because she thought if she got some life experience or whatever went through her head, they would trust her more. Maybe she wanted to prove it to herself and her parents that she can do it. Now if it was Darren who would have put his hands on Hope like he used to do Indya (let us not forget) it would be a different conversation. They are a toxic couple that should’ve never gotten married, imo. To me they are facading “growth”. Again, I ask “where is it?” because whenever something comes up, they go back. That’s not growth. Is it because they live in a nice house and Indya is no longer using men? Is it because Darren is no longer punching people in the face? As a child, we want to understand where our parents come from and Hope is always “it’s ok”-ing and trying to be woke with her parents trauma. At some point, I believe we need to say, “So what about your trauma.” Why? Because at some point in this life, you need to be responsible for your own actions and words and not keep blaming what your mama, your daddy, the streets, who/whatever did to you. You need to heal it. These two have not dealt with any consequences of the b.s. they pulled to each other and now Hope and mostly likely Deera and DJ. You can not treat people any way you want to even those you parent. Hope can get the same treatment. She was disrespectful. They wrapped her so much in bubble wrap that she literally can’t live a life. Hope is going to get hurt anyway because that’s life. My point is so often we want to give grace to parents just because they are your parents. I’m SO over that. No amount of “sorry” can undo the harm that is done. There was a short story I read about a dad telling his son to hammer a nail into the fence whenever he was mad. Later he told him to remove the nails, while saying sorry. Although the nails were out, the residue is still there. I pray they can get through this, but something needs to change. When stuff like this happen, that’s why some parents end up being alone on their death bed and be wondering what went wrong. Or some kids hold stuff in and shows up in harmful ways such as self-harm. I think we’ve been giving them grace. I’m so sick it. I have no sides because everyone in this household is 1000% wrong. (2/2) Guess I had more characters allowed than I thought. XD. I am trying to root for them to be better but I am giving up Hope. I know for me I am forgiving until I get fed up. Then that grace turns to anger and I want to make others hurt 1000 times over. That's something I am working through. Human beings are trash sometimes. ><

Part one on the bottom. *cracks knuckles* Let's get into it:

I gotta say, if you haven't seen any growth from Darren and Indya throughout this entire story (started 7 years ago), I wonder if we're reading the same story! And that's not shade. The growth isn't just monetary. Its how they interact with each other in a way that is loving, nuturing and soft which has been woven very intricately throughout the story. Even Indya's mom showed empathy and warmth when she wanted to. I think you remember the bad things because they were very bad things so they stick out, but as Darren says, we prefer to leave the past right where it is.

A few things:

What they meant by "not going back" was infidelity, physical abuse, sleeping around for money, shooting people, you know... the life they were living. They haven't gone back.

Parenting level 9 is still there, in fact, Darren is level 9 as well. Even the best of parents have lost their shit with their kids.

"I got in one little argument and my mom got scared so she cussed me out and read me for filth when my siblings weren't there" (this is me, remixing the fresh prince theme song... work with me)

I honestly don't think the argument is strong enough for how this interaction with Hope is setting them back and continuing the cycle of generational trauma. This is the first time that Indya has reacted like this with Hope. Ever. And it wasn't for a minor offence, AND Hope clapped back a lil bit. Think about how many times they just ground her, or better yet, the time Indya didn't tell Darren about the weed, or the club...

Hope can't get "life experience" at 16 on the streets. That's what Indya had to do, that's what Indya and Darren are trying to prevent, right? So Hope didn't leave for that reason. And "she can do it" do what? Survive on the street? We don't want that...

We'll get into the trust part shortly.

Darren may very well still be punching people in the face.... I have no further comment at this time.

I would argue Indya and Darren are living the consequences of their previous actions by participating in the very difficult task of raising children to be healthy, happy, loved and cared for. They are not perfect, but you don't have to be perfect to be a parent.

I get how this situation is triggering. I truly do. I've also written these characters to behave in the exact way that they just did. I've also tried to be very clear about who they are. We are still learning who Hope and her siblings are.

Getting help, dealing with issues is something that happens throughout your life. You can get as far as you can, but I don't believe that you fix all your problems at any given point. Its progressive. So to say they should have "dealt with that" before having children, well... they did.

Its so curious to me that Indya has been cancelled by a few folks now for reacting in a way she was written to. And in a way that makes sense given the severity of what Hope did (everyone agrees it was very very bad).

I really like the nail analogy because even when you apologize the damage is still there. Like Hope, coming in the living room apologizing. She already damaged her parents. It goes both ways.

Finally, these little pixels are not the SimHuxtables as someone else put it. They are products of my wild imagination and there's no telling how they'll end up.

[sapphosthoughtsandwritings]

if it’s not too much to ask please please please could you write more avengers x teen!reader? I adore the one with fear of the dark and was wondering if you could do something similar? Like either the avengers comforting the reader or just something with lots of hugs and cuddles? Thank you!! <3

Stage Fright - Avengers x anxious!teen!Reader

Summary: When your presentation for class goes terribly wrong, your team mates come to rescue you and take you home.

Warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attack, a few cuss words

Type: angst, ends with fluff

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST, very exciting!! I am so so glad you liked my work, and I hope you enjoy this one as well!! <3 I also have quite a few more ideas for teen!Reader fics, so this definitely won't be the last piece like this!

(Y/l/n) = your last name

(f/d) = favorite drink

You’d been dreading this day for weeks now. Clutching the straps of your backpack, you let out a deep sigh, walking up to the doors of your school. You didn’t like school to begin with, but the building seemed much more intimidating today. Making your way through the halls, you were grateful that you got to school early, you hated pushing through crowds of people.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)!”, a voice called from down the hall. You recognized it almost immediately. “Hi Peter, what’s up?”. You were happy to see him, maybe talking out your nervousness would help. “Oh, you know, just the same old stuff. Sure am tired though”. “Well, if you don’t sleep then you will be tired”. “Like you’re one to talk (Y/l/n)”. You only rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him, evoking a chuckle from him. “How about you? How are you doing?”. “Ugh, not great. I have to present that project today. Not particularly looking forward to it”, you huffed, looking down to the ground as your anxiety increased at the thought of presenting alone. “Hey, I’m sure you’ll do great. Most people don’t pay attention to presentations anyways”, he assured you. You popped your knuckles, still feeling just as nervous. You knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the fear surging through you. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to do it. Maybe if I wait long enough, there won’t be any class time left for me to present”, that was your hope, and your only plan to get out of this without panicking in front of the whole class. “Maybe, well regardless, I hope it goes well”, he offered you a sincere smile. “Yeah, I hope so too”. “Well, I should probably head to class, see you at lunch!”. “Right back at ya, Parker”, you waved gently to him as he disappeared down a hallway.

You made your way to your first class, deciding to read a bit before class started. Nothing you did eased the gnawing anxiety in the back of your mind though. Your first two classes were easy enough, but it was hard to focus, your mind racing with intrusive thoughts. ‘What if my voice gives out? What happens if I start crying in front of everyone? God, the whole school will hear about it. Everyone will stare at me, whisper about me every time I pass by them. I can’t do this, I just can’t’. By your third class, you’d bitten your nails down to blood, your lips suffering the same fate, cracked and split open. You almost considered skipping, but you’d worked hard on this project, you couldn’t let that go to waste. So, taking your seat in the back of the class, you tried breathing techniques, anything to help calm your senses. Your leg bounced so much, you swore the floor would give out under your foot.

The teacher turned out the lights, letting people present their projects voluntarily. You calmed the tiniest bit. If someone randomly kept volunteering to present, the class time was sure to run out before you even got the chance to stand up. Throughout the class, you were on edge, chanting silent prayers in your head. You weren’t very fortunate though, as everyone presented quickly, making it apparent that you were going to have to present no matter what. “Alright, who hasn’t gone up yet?”, your teacher called out, looking at her grading sheet. ‘Oh my god, please don’t see my name. Please tell me I don’t exist. Let me just disappear. I can’t do this’. “Oh! (Y/n) still hasn’t presented, come on over and I’ll pull up your project”, your teacher chirped.

Your heart pounded painfully hard in your chest, slowly standing up on jelly legs, keeping your gaze down as you walked to the whiteboard. You couldn’t possibly do this. You were going to die. Every mission you’d ever gone on seemed so miniscule in this moment, as you looked out to your peers. It was too dark to see most of their faces, which only made your situation worse. Your teacher pulled up the project on the projector, gesturing to you to start presenting, as she clicked her pen, ready to write down every mistake you made.

Letting out a jittery breath, you clasped your sweaty hands together and began talking. You were shaking so badly, it was like an earthquake had erupted inside of your body. You could feel the tears threatening to spill past your eyes, leaving a hard pain in your throat. Your chest hurt, and your breathing was becoming more erratic. But you had to finish, you had to get this over with. Just as you were on one of the last slides, a voice called from somewhere in the class, “Hey, pipsqueak! Speak up, would ya? We can’t hear you back here!”. The comment elicited a few snickers, which your teacher hushed quietly, but the damage was already done. The room was suddenly shrinking around you, as your chest tightened even further. You bit your lip, trying your best to compose yourself, attempting to push down your anxiety, but it only pushed back up more violently. “(Y/n)? You still have a few slides left”, your teacher said, but you didn’t hear her. Instead, your fight or flight instincts took over, and you raced out of the classroom, tears now breaking free, streaming down your face. You headed to the nearest bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, your whole world crumbling beneath you.

Leaning against the door, you slid down, breath caught in your throat, fighting to get out, but to no avail. Instinctively, you brought your knees up to your chest, clutching at the seams of your pants, letting out choked sobs and broken coughs. There was only one thing you could think of that might help you, and that was your teammates. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, continuing to shake violently, as you clicked the emergency contacts, thumb pressed to the first person, which just so happened to be Bucky. You lifted the phone to your ear, barely hearing the ring, despite your call volume being all the way up.

Bucky saw your name pop up on his phone, panic surging through him. You never called, it made you too anxious. He answered instantly, “(Y/n)? (Y/n), sweetheart, are you okay?”. His sudden panic mixed with your name caused both Steve and Sam to stand by him, all of them mentally preparing for an emergency. You wanted to reply, but all that came out was a squeak, as your fist collided with the tiled floor, your oxygen levels becoming more scarce by the second. Bucky put his phone on speaker, letting all three of them talk to you. “(Y/n), doll, you gotta breathe okay? Through your nose, count on your fingers”, Bucky stated, trying to keep his voice steady for you. “Yep, deep breaths (Y/n), you’ve got this. You’re gonna be okay”, Steve reassured you. After about 10 minutes of the three of them gently coaxing you out of your panic attack, you calmed slightly, leaving you crying quietly.

“We’re almost back at the compound, we’ll come and pick you up in about 20 minutes, okay?”, Steve said, giving no room for protests, although at this point you weren’t going to object. You wanted to go home. “Okay, I guess I should get back to class then”, you murmured, realizing that you’d probably been gone for over 15 minutes now. It was weird no one came to look for you, but you weren’t complaining. “If you aren’t ready to go back kid, that’s fine. We can stay on the call as long as you need”, Sam mentioned, his voice sounded beyond concerned. You had a bad habit of not taking care of yourself, especially in times of crisis. “No, I’ll be fine, gotta go back to get my stuff anyways”, you were dreading going back. The whole class would be focused on you for sure, not to mention the faux sympathy from your teacher, something that would surely cause another flood of tears. You just wanted to go unnoticed, for everyone to ignore your presence. “Alright, if you’re sure”. “I’m sure, I’ll see you guys soon”, you weren’t sure, but you had to convince them, you knew too well that they’d cause a scene at the school if things got worse. “Okay, stay safe sweetheart, we’ll be there as soon as possible”, Steve stated, before Bucky reluctantly hung up the phone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, groaning slightly as you forced your stiff body to move. You stepped out of the stall, silently thanking the universe for not letting anyone walk in during your breakdown. You looked to one of the mirrors, finding a disheveled figure staring back at you. You grabbed a paper towel, dampening it in the sink, and gently washing the dried tears off your face. You fixed your clothing and washed your hands, before making the godawful trip back to class. There was only 5 minutes left for the class, but that was more than enough time for shit to go wrong. You stood outside the door for a minute, taking a moment to compose yourself.

Turning the handle slowly, you eased your way past the door, the lights now on. Just as you expected, all eyes turned on you, but most turned away quickly, looking back to their friend or their phone. That lifted your nervousness a bit, as you started to head back to your desk, but your teacher had other plans, as she cleared her throat, motioning for you to go and talk to her. You cussed quietly to yourself, could this day get any worse? You dragged your feet over to her desk, biting your now scabbed lip. “So, your project was very good, therefore, I’m going to give you a 90, but I have to dock 10 points for your presentation”, she spoke quietly and sternly. Your face grew hot with her words, tears swelling in your eyes again. She was taking points off for something that you couldn’t control? It pissed you off to say the least. You only looked away from her desk, nodding slightly, knowing better than to open your mouth. “Alright then, you can go and pack up your things”. You walked quickly back to your desk, putting the few things you had taken out back into your backpack, before the bell rang for lunch. Dashing out of the class, you headed straight for the front of the school, more than ready for the day to be over. You’d email your 4th period teacher later on what work you missed out on. On your way, you made sure to text Peter, letting him know everything that happened, and that you wouldn’t be there for lunch.

You only had to wait for a few minutes, as Sam walked through the doors, spotting you quickly and walking over to you. “You alright kid?”. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, jus’ want this day to be done already”. He nodded, following you to the front office, signing everything to excuse you for the day. He kept a close eye on you the whole time, a protective hand placed on your shoulder. Stepping out of the building, he led you to the car where Bucky and Steve awaited. You got into the back seat, Sam sitting in the seat next to you.

“Hey doll, you feeling alright?”, Bucky quizzed, angling his body to look at you. “Yeah, ‘m glad you guys offered to pick me up though. Don’t really think I could’ve lasted another class”, you fidgeted with your hands, you knew your nerves wouldn’t calm for a while, but at least it was manageable now. “We’re always here for you, kid, no matter what”, Sam assured you, patting your shoulder softly. “Mhm, you can always come to us, even if we’re on a mission. Our job can always wait, your well being is more important than anything”, Steve added, looking briefly to you in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for that, you guys are the best”, you smiled bashfully. “No need to thank us, jus’ doing what’s right”, Bucky stated. “So, whatcha feel like doing when we get back?”, Sam asked. You thought for a moment, doing anything social sounded horrible at the moment, and the weighted blanket in your room was calling your name. “How ‘bout a pizza and movie night?”, you inquired, knowing they’d all like the idea, hell the whole team would probably join in. “Sounds good to me”, Steve mused, he always liked time for the team to bond. “Me too”. “Me as well, I’m starving dude”, Sam quipped, causing all of you to chuckle.

It didn’t take long to get back to the tower, all of you heading inside, you going to your room to set your stuff down and to change into something more comfy. After changing, you grabbed your weighted blanket, wrapping it around you, heading back down to the common room. Word must’ve spread fast, cause the whole team was gathered there, everyone sitting in a designated spot, except for Tony, who was currently ordering pizza over the phone. “Hey, there they are, rough day at school?”, Natasha asked, giving you a warm smile. “Yeah, not the greatest”, you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, in that case, you get to choose the first movie draga”, Pietro looked up at you from his spot on the floor. You hummed in response, before placing your decision on one of your favorite comfort movies. Clint started to look it up on the various streaming services, finding it almost instantly. “This one, right?”. You nodded happily, making your way over to sit between Steve and Wanda. “Hey, kiddo, you want a drink? And I’m guessing you want some extra garlic breadsticks too, right?”, Tony asked, holding his phone away from his mouth slightly. “Uhh, I’ll have a (f/d), and duh, of course I want garlic breadsticks”. “Yeah, what type of question is that?”, Pietro chimed in. Tony scoffed at him, rolling his eyes, but continued placing the order.

Wanda opened her arms next to you, allowing you to curl into her side as her arms wrapped softly around you. You stretched your legs out, Steve placed them on his lap, gently rubbing his thumb over your calf. Your nerves were finally winding down, as Clint pressed play on the movie. Wanda kept an arm wrapped around your back, her other hand resting gently on the side of your head, making sure to keep you close. The pizza arrived shortly after the movie had started, and you grabbed as much food as you wanted. You deserved it after the day you had. After the first movie finished, and the team voted on a new movie to watch, you felt yourself begin to drift off. You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting, comfort and warmth surrounding you. You didn’t make it far into the second movie before you fell asleep, listening to the sound of Wanda’s heart beating, the events from earlier that day flooding away, leaving you to sleep peacefully, knowing that you were safe and sound.

[niqhtlord01]

Welcome back you crazy blood thirsty fans!

We thought it best to try and boost our fighting fans spirits with a rousing musical scour as we progress through this seemingly endless tournament of death, destruction, and copious amounts of dick kicking.

Unfortunately no one was crazy enough to take us up on our offer; which is rather surprising since most musicians these days go on drug fueled rage binges every other week.

However, at the 11th hour a noble figure finally stepped forward to fill the void and give us the rousing musical number we all needed to hear; and oddly enough his only request was that we allow him to fight in the tournament as well.

So, put your hands together for the maestro of the rainbow, the swinger of destruction, and jazz master of Atlas; FLYNT COAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Flynt: *walks in adjusting hat* Weiss: Are we cool now? Flynt: You tell me, ice queen. Weiss: *Creates Glyphs* I’ll never be rid of that name will I? --------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Church: Was always more of a rock and roll man. Flynt: Can’t blame people for their bad tastes. Church: *Draws sniper rifle* Let the bodies hit the floor mother fucker! -------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Cammie: So you go into battle with a trumpet? Flynt: Pretty cool, right? Cammie: *Picks up nugget* I’m honestly surprised you have been shot or stabbed to death by now. -------------------------------------------------------------

Nomad: *Walks in, wind blowing poncho* Flynt: *Plays an old western* Nomad: *tips hat and claps hands* Flynt: *Splits into copies* Nothing beats a receptive audience. -------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Yang: Think you can take me without your cat friend? Flynt: Never was one to shy away from a solo. Yang: *Cocks shotgun wrists* Good, because I could using a good tune to kick butt too. ---------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Grif: So were your parents racist or did they just hate you?   Flynt: Excuse me? Grif: *Hefts Rocket Launcher* Don’t you find it odd your one of the few black people here and your last name is a literal reference to black? ----------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Kazu: *In Japanese* After the match do you want to jam? Flynt: Sure, but pegged you for a punk rocker. Kazu: *Cracks knuckles* I’ve been stuck here for six months and no one plays; I would duet with a clarinet player at this point. --------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Don: Finally; set up in the corner and begin playing. Flynt: I suggest you check your tone before you start making me play some sour notes. Don: *Draws sword, sighs* Never can find good help, story of my life. --------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Salem: Join me my child. Flynt: Sorry, but I can tell a bad song from the get go. Salem: *Grim arms appear from ground* Then let my voice be the last thing you ever hear. ----------------------------------------------------------------------

Donut: *Walks in polishing armor* Flynt: Got a special request? Donut: Oooooo! Do you know any dub step? Flynt: *Splits into copies* And just like that, you gotta go. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Nemesis: *Nano tech cloud forms Nemesis* Flynt: *Plays soft jazz* Nemesis: *Pauses, cocks head to listen* Let-et-et the good times roll. Flynt: *Splits into copies* With me, they never stop rolling. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Skout: *Gasps* Is that a music maker?!? I’ve never seen one up close. Flynt: Sounds like a bleak life if you ask me. Skout: *Shoves off backpack and stretches* It ain’t so bad after you get used to the endless desert and roaming blood thirsty monster packs. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ambrosius: *Cloud of smoke appears and he twirls into existence* Flynt: I hear you’re the man that makes dreams happen. Ambrosius: Let me guess; an amphitheater for your adoring fans? Flynt: *splits into copies* Nah, just a new shop for my dad. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Washington: Have you actually ever killed anyone? Flynt: With a semblance named “Killer Quartet”, what do you think? Washington: *Loads assault rifle* Mom always said music would be the death of me. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Yasamin: I cannot begin to number the reasons your choice of weapon is idiotic. Flynt: Says the woman with no weapon at all. Yasamin: *Takes fighting stance* That is because I AM a weapon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Flynt: *Walks in adjusting hat* Toth: Your magic won’t work on me sorcerer. Flynt: then you don’t know the power of good music. Toth: *Draws knife* But I do know the power of a good blade. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[afyerarchive]

Hu Tao Harasses you With Funeral Advertisements

● ————————— GENSHIN

→ ABOUT / As your s/o Childe exits your house in Liyue, a girl from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor approaches you with a promotion.

→ DEMOGRAPHIC / gn ! reader

→ CW / hu tao + minor fluff

→ EXTRA / I was going to write this a few days ago but then foot stuff happened and well here we are

——————————————————————————————————

Childe hugs you as he leaves the premise; you watch him go off into the distance down the streets of Liyue on a trip for ingredients.

Relaxing, you sit back down on your porch, rocking in an old wooden chair and reading the latest on the newspaper; Ningguang is committing tax evasion again? Who would've guessed.

From your field of vision you see a short girl with dark purple hair strut her way over to your porch, holding a stack of flyers. Her outfit was black, with red flowers and fancy robes, smiling brightly; brighter than the lanterns of Liyue.

Still grinning, she walks up to you, and holds out a flyer. "Hu Tao here from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor; I have a proposal, if you have the time," she twirled once, awaiting your response.

"I'm not interested," you sigh, scanning over the flyer once before going back to reading the newspaper.

"Hang on buster, I'm not done promoting our service yet," she held up one of her own flyers, putting her finger under the line which said Pre-Order a Funeral Today for 50% Off . "Now's your once-in-a-lifetime (literally) chance to get 50% off your funeral when that day comes around; you never know, you could die tomorrow of all times and you won't be prepared for your buria-"

"I said I'm not interested," you scoff, staring her dead in the eyes.

"Well, I know just what can up this offer," Hu Tao grabbed an album out of the bag she was hauling with her. Flipping it open to about halfway through, she pulled out a fine printed drawing of a casket, a bit bigger than your typical model. "Order within the next 24 hours, and you can have this premium, tip-top quality casket, made with Inazuman wood and made by Mr. Zhongli himself. You've gotta' buy it--I mean, come on. Who wouldn't want Mr. Zhongli to put together your casket with his mystical hands- sorry, I'm getting off topic," she was still smiling, convinced you'd take her up on this offer.

"I have a boyfriend already," you sigh. "If you think putting some conventionally attractive businessman in your promotional material is going to sway me, you're sorely mistaken."

"Well well, is that not enough then still? I didn't want to have to do this, but," Hu Tao put back the album, this time pulling out a tattered portrait of a fine man with a moustache. "For free, with your purchase, I'll subcontract this world-renowned embalmer to help preserve your body right from the day you die. Let's be real, who would want to look at a gross rotting corpse at your grand funeral in a few decades?"

"Stop being so morbid, I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."

"We can change that rather quickly," Hu Tao's expression instantly changed, being even more morbid than before. Cracking her knuckles, and laughing almost manically, you now felt intimidated by her mere presence. "So, about that purchase?"

Frantically, you reach your hand out. "Please, let's get this over with."

Hu Tao handed you a pen and a document, on which you signed your name at the bottom without even reading it through; big mistake.

"Well, oopsies- that was the contract for a full-price service, without the benefits. That's a shame, though, I best be off now. You can keep the flyer," as if she was trying to get out of there as fast as possible, Hu Tao essentially sprinted away from the scene, out of sight from anyone.

What an interesting situation you found yourself in. Childe would be concerned as to how this happened, however, he could definitely pay for all of the costs.

LATER ✨

"Did you find everything?" You ask Childe, as he walks back in your home together, carrying several bags full of fresh goods from the market.

"I did," he smiled, setting the bags down to hold your hand. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

You sigh, "I signed an expensive contract for my funeral when I eventually die. I'm not sure what I was thinking."

He doesn't even look surprised, and just sighs. "It's okay, I can pay for that," releasing from the tension regarding your encounter with Hu Tao, you enjoy the rest of your night with him, cooking and having a good rest.

——————————————————————————————————

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙10

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, angry Andy, hormones

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Another update? Who is this bitch actually trying?

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bus chugged down the city streets as you sat closer to the back. You stared out the window and watched the grey sky of Nelson hanging overhead, a cloudy backdrop to the smoking city. 

You sighed every now and then, trying to forget the beeping and when it stopped. You still felt Andy’s hand on your back and the suffocating silence of the drive home. The burden of the dead woman on your shoulders.

It was as if it had been years since you saw the slightly crooked pole that held the bright sign. The bus stop was as desolate as ever, the dirty bench marked with spray paint and the shelter glass cracked. You set off around the corner past the house. Each was familiar but not comforting.

Your hips hurt from the stiff ride and you rubbed your stomach. You wore one of Andy’s hoodies under your open jacket, the zipper of the latter no longer meeting. You stopped in front of your parents’ house. You hadn’t asked permission; not from your mother, your father, or Andy. There was no courtesy phone call so you hesitated, afraid you might be sent away.

It was noon. Your father would be in the garage. He always had some project going. That was his work. He was cheaper than any other mechanic in the city, he just did it all from home. He could recycle parts from the junkyard and charge half price. They usually did better than the newer parts sent away for down at the Jiffy.

You walked up the driveway, the garage door was only halfway open, the bite of the late autumn, rather the early winter, mingled with the warmth flowing under the metal. You tapped on it with your knuckles, “dad?” you called.

You stepped back as his oily hands gripped the bottom and he hauled it up entirely. He tilted his head at you but couldn’t hide his smile. He looked at your stomach and you dropped your hand. He drew you to him before you could react. He hugged you tight and rocked you.

“Your mother’s gonna be mad you didn’t call before you came,” he let go of you and looked you over again.

“Mad that I’m even here,” you remarked.

“No, she might act like it but…” he waved you into the garage and rolled over the little stool he sat on when he was working. He helped you sit and put his wrench on the plywood table against the wall, “she missed you. We both did.” he wiped his hands on his jeans, “you could have called us. You know how she is. She feels before she thinks.”

“She kicked me out,” you felt precarious on the little rolling stool, “you let her.”

“So why’d you come back?” he asked.

You hung your head and hugged your stomach, “well, I’m having your granddaughter. I didn’t want you to find out from anyone but me.”

“It’s a girl?” he grinned.

“Sorry, wish I could give you a boy to get all filthy in this place,” you shrugged.

“You never minded getting your hands dirty,” he neared and grasped your shoulder.

“Yeah, guess it doesn’t matter too much, she’ll be as curious as any kid,” you said.

You were quiet as you looked around. Your dad’s rolling chest of tools was dented and rusted, the same one he’d had your whole life. The place hadn’t changed, only the car sitting in it.

“That’s not the only reason you’re here,” he said. Your father was a simple man but he wasn’t dumb.

You frowned and felt a prick in your eyes. The hormones, you told yourself, they were getting to you.

“I need you guys,” you said quietly, “is that so bad?”

“I missed you, you’re mom did too, she’s just stubborn. Think that’s where you get it,” he turned his hand over and held it out to you, “but she won’t turn you away.”

“You sure?”

“I won’t let her. Not this time,” he bent and took your hand, “now come on.”

You let him help you to your feet and he led you through the side door into the house. You heard your mother’s old Patsy Cline CD droning from the box speakers on the shelf as she muttered to herself. 

Your dad kicked the dirty off his boots and you slipped your own off. You followed him and peeked over his shoulder as he went to the living room. Your mother was wiping down the framed picture from your high school graduation.

“I got a surprise for you,” he announced as he stepped aside and beckoned you in alongside him, “and she’s got a surprise for you.”

Your mother turned and froze. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced you. She didn’t say anything as he stared at you then tossed the dusting cloth onto the table beside the lamp. She looked down at your feet.

“You remembered to take your shoes off,” she said.

Your lips parted and your chest gripped. She was still mad.

“You remembered us,” she swept over to you so quickly, you flinched. She hugged you and her middle met yours. She let go and looked down at your stomach. Her eyes were sad but not angry, “I’m…” she lifted her head and met your gaze, “I’m not good at saying it but I’m sorry.”

You watched her for a minute. She was still her mother as nasty as she’d been. You could see her regret and it coupled with your own. It didn’t fix everything but for her, it was a lot.

“I’m sorry too,” you breathed, “it was… me being stupid started all of this. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You gotta tell her,” your dad intoned.

You glanced at him then back to your mom. You gulped, “we found out yesterday, it’s a girl.”

“We? And where is… he?” your mother bristled.

“Working,” you said.

“We went to the diner, they said you quit. The café too,” your mom batted away lashes, “please, sit.” She touched your stomach, “you’re so big.”

“Five months, I think,” you said as you let her take you to the old floral sofa, “and the doctor recommended I take it easy so I had to… leave.”

“Oh? Is something wrong with the baby?” she picked up her cloth again and resumed her dusting. Your father quietly excused himself.

“No, just me,” you leaned against the arm, “but they said my blood pressure is getting better, just have to check it now and again.”

“And that man? The least I can say is at least he’s taking responsibility, even if he is married,” your mom hung the picture back on the nail.

“It was a mistake,” you said, “but you know, I think it’s taught me a lot. Not that it was worth it.”

“I don’t mean to rag on you, but… it’s just not how it should be,” she went to the television stand and focused on the edges.

“You think I don’t know that. Mom, I didn’t come here to argue my morality. I came here…” you paused as you felt your phone buzz. You slid it from your jacket pocket and checked the ID; Andy. You ignored it and dropped it back inside, “I just wanted to see if you had any interest in your granddaughter.”

She spun back and her face wrinkled with sadness. She twisted the cloth and retreated to the rocking chair and sat. She chewed her lip and looked at the floor. When she looked at you again, her brows crinkled.

“I’m trying,” she said, “but what you did, I don’t know if I can’t get over that. That man, everyone knows him, and when it comes out, with his wife still in a coma, you don’t think about what that does to us.”

“Well,” your throat constricted and you held back the hot tears bubbling behind your eyes, “she’s not anymore.”

“What?”

“She… she passed last night,” you sniffed, “and I’ll admit that I came here as much for me as you. I just needed… needed to get away. Just for a little.”

Your phone went off again and you grunted as you pulled it out and swiped away the second call from Andy. You kept the phone in your hand and rested it against your thigh.

“I just need time,” your mom leaned back heavily.

“Well, it’s quickly running out,” you replied, “she’s gonna be here soon enough.”

“I know,” she said grimly, “I know.”

There was another silence and your phone twitched. You turned it over and checked the message on the screen; ‘why don’t you invite your parents for dinner if you’re not gonna answer me?’ You let the phone slip between your legs and slowly raised your eyes. How did he know?

“I can go, if it’s too much,” you said, “I didn’t expect to get past the front door, honestly.”

“It’s not-- you’re still my daughter,” she uttered, “and even if it’s not the best situation, you got my granddaughter too.”

Your phone began to shake between your legs and you huffed, “sorry,” you stood with effort as you snatched the phone up, “just a second.”

You went into the dining room and answered. You hissed into the phone, “what do you want, Andy?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going there?” he asked sharply.

“How do you even know? You following me?” you kept your voice low.

“I know, that’s all,” he retorted, “it is… surprising.”

“They’re my parents,” you scowled at the tabletop as you leaned on a chair.

“Mine, too, right? Considering--”

“Andy,” you warned, “come on. Let’s cut this out--”

“Invite them for dinner. You’re right. Our kid will need her grandparents,” he interrupted, “I’ll get off early and help.”

“I don’t think--”

“Invite them,” he demanded, “and don’t take the bus back. I’ll send you the money for a cab.”

“Jesus, I can take care of myself--”

“No, you can’t, which is why you’re sleeping under my roof. And this isn’t about you, it’s about the baby,” he exhaled and you heard a squeak of metal, likely a chair, “Now I want you home by two. I’ll be there shortly after.”

He hung up before you could argue. You closed your eyes and forced down the angry bile in your chest. You shuttered and tucked the phone back in your jacket. How did he know you were there?

🌙

Your parents agreed to dinner. Your mother wasn’t subtle that she was curious to see Andy’s house. Her judgement was always her driving motivation and you were certain she could find something to hate, even in the suburban utopia. 

You took the bus out of defiance and brewed with anger as you got off just outside the cul-de-sac. You walked the single block to Andy’s and paced like an angry lioness inside.

He arrived at three, just after. Your anxiety boiled with anger and you stopped to face him as he entered. You watched him put down his briefcase and hang his long black coat. Your nostrils flared as you braced yourself for the onslaught ready to spill forth.

“So, you weren’t following me?” you challenged.

“I was working,” he said quietly, “to pay for all of this…” he pointed to the ceiling, “and that,” he pointed to your bump.

“No, Andy, you don’t get to do that every time,” you snarled, “how did you know?”

He didn’t answer and brushed by you. You followed him into the kitchen as he went to the coffee machine and pressed the buttons bluntly. You watched him from a foot away, your hand on the cold marble.

“You can’t just ignore me. How did you know I was there?”

“Because…” he grabbed a mug and filled it with water. He poured it into the machine and snapped the lid shut, “because you have my baby and I have a right to make sure you don’t take it from me.”

“That’s not an answer,” you sneered, “Andy, I have done everything you’ve wanted. I have stayed here, I have quit my jobs, I have kept this baby for you, and you… you’re what? Tracking me like a dog?” You reached into your back pocket and slammed your phone on the counter. You slid it over to him, “when did you do it?”

His jaw ticked as he put a pod into the machine and hit start. He tapped his fingers on the counter and let out a long breath through his nose. He turned to you and crossed his arms.

“After you stayed out that night. I couldn’t worry like that again. I had to know,” he said staunchly, “because I’ve had a wife go out and not come back. A child--”

“I’m not your wife and I won’t ever be. This child is all we have in common,” you rebuffed, “even after last night. What you did, that doesn’t change things.”

You nearly tripped as he marched towards you. He had you against the far wall, his hand planted on either side of your head as his anger rippled across his forehead and set his jaw square. You pressed yourself against the pure white wall and tried not to wither.

“I did that for you,” he breathed, “I’ve done everything for you. Don’t act like you’re the only one doing shit.”

“Andy, get away--”

“No,” he punched the wall and you gasped, “my wife is gone. Jacob is gone! This is all I have; you, my daughter…that’s everything and I will be damned if I’m going to let you take any of it away from me.”

“You’re scaring me,” you wisped, “Andy, please--”

“No, you shut up and you listen. This is the last time we have this conversation. Your parents are coming and you’re going to be good. You’re going to wear something nice, you’re going to cook something good, and you’re going to smile. You don’t let them see you crack, not once.”

“You can’t--”

“Enough!” he hit the wall again and you heard it crumple under the force, “if you don’t, they won’t be around. Ever. Do you understand me?” you gaped up at him and trembled, you shook your head in disbelief. He leaned in and spoke softly to you, “Understand that I will make sure you and no one else ever sees them again.”

“You… wouldn’t…”

“I could. I will. You’re fucking bitch of a mom deserves it,” he hissed, “so, honey,” he growled the second word, “what’s it gonna be?”

Your lip quivered and you searched his face. The rage had his blue eyes alight and his breath rasped out like animalistic snarls. You thought of Laurie, of how blank he’d been when they stopped the machines. And that smile, after. What was that?

“I’ll… be good,” you murmured, “I will.”

His lips twitched and he shoved himself away from you. He stomped over to the fridge and took out the light cream. He added it to his mug of fresh coffee and stirred. You stood straight shakily and looked up at the hole beside your head.

“Well,” he said, “better figure out what you’re making for dinner. Our guests won’t be long.”

[aggravatetheaxe]

FINDERS KEEPERS - Chapter 4: Keep the Streets Empty for Me

Murderer. Monster. Serial killer. Abuser. Freak. These are words you would be well within your rights to use when describing Bo Sinclair. But when a trip to dispose of a body doesn’t end up quite as planned and a nameless waif enters the picture, he might have to add one more label to the list: protector. How long can Bo justify the presence of a child who so critically throws off the tenuous balance of life in Ambrose? How long can he stand it?

CW for this chapter: child abuse/neglect (references), lost children, referring to conjoined twins as "Siamese twins," Bo judges a woman's looks

This title is SAFE FOR WORK.

Taglist: @blackrose8425, @shirtlessfelix, @popsnapopera, @slasherblog, @toastysalt

Soundtrack: Keep the Streets Empty for Me, Ambience, More Ambience

Words: 3,354

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Masterlist

***

As Bo turned tightly in the driveway and headed down the hill, he could already feel relief washing over him. Sure, he'd lost a couple days and a set of baby clothes, but the kid—Bird, he repeated in his head—was on her way out, and things could go back to normal soon.

He scanned Ambrose as they passed through it. The Sinclair brothers, or he and Vincent at least, did their best to keep up appearances, but it was well and truly deserted. Empty. Wasn't a fit place for a child to be staying. Wasn't a fit place for anyone to be staying, if he was honest.

Yeah, the only way his hometown and Momma's happy place would come back to life was if he and Vincent continued their work. And that sure required a lot of life.

Bo reached toward the radio dials but stopped short, glancing at Bird. She was gazing out the window, sucking on her Sprite can and kicking her rain boots against the seat.

"Y'know," he said, focusing on the road again, "I was born here. Yep. My daddy was a doctor, had all the tools ta do a home birth. I was born right in that house, me 'n' Vincent."

Bird said nothing, but Bo could feel her staring at him.

"'Course, he didn't expect us to be stuck together. Ya know what they call that?" When she didn't answer, he continued, "Siamese twins. We were attached by the back a' my head. Took a lotta work to separate us. Ruined Vin's face, so he wears that mask."

As he spoke, they rolled down the dirt road at a leisurely pace. Going any faster would be a good way to scrape up the suspensions, not to mention kill his alignment—and that was one murder he wasn't willing to commit. They took the southern path out of town, passing over the dry creek and looping around to head toward Lester's. Best keep this in the family if he could possibly help it.

"Daddy made it work, but we all got scars. Yeah. Vince's face, back a' my head ... an' Momma had a real bad scar on her belly the rest of her life. Guess it ain't the worst scar they ever gave me, though." As dirt road turned to cracked pavement, Bo looked over at the kid again. "You remember where you live, birdie?"

At first he thought, since she was apparently smart enough to read, she might answer. He should've known better. She'd only ever communicated on her own terms, and that probably wasn't about to change.

Weird kid.

Bo let silence fall between them for a torturous minute, vaguely aware of the sounds of nearby cattle and the roar of the pavement under him. Theories of where she might have come from mingled with vivid memories from his childhood. When her Sprite can crinkled loud enough to shake him from his trance, he realized his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

With a deep breath, he eased up a bit, finally speaking. "How come you won't tell me nothin' about your folks, huh? Your people gotta be lookin' for ya. You don't wanna go home ... that it?"

No response.

He clenched his jaw. At least Vincent talks ... just not with his voice.

Whatever. It wouldn't be a problem for long.

It wasn't fifteen minutes before they were pulling into Lester's drive. The land on which his trailer sat was swampier than in Ambrose, and you had to take the long way around the sugar mill to get there. The yard and the woods around it were both strewn with crap: old car parts, a broken down VW camper, rusted appliances, chairs, and other miscellaneous debris. Some was Lester's, some seemed to come with the land, and some had come in with floods.

Beside his trailer, too, was the remnants of a second one, now just some front steps and a bowing wooden platform elevated on cinder blocks. A fridge, open and rotting, along with some other kitchen items were scattered haphazardly over the platform. Bo pulled his truck alongside it, just behind Lester's own Chevy.

Poverty and disarray didn't disturb Bo. He saw it every day, not just here. But he couldn't help but wonder what his surgeon daddy would think of the cracked siding on his youngest child's home, or the busted up traffic signs nailed to trees, or the animal bones decorating the porch.

He cut the engine and slid out of the truck, then turned to offer a hand to Bird. She appeared completely at ease as she crawled out after him, securing her hand around two of his fingers. Not from rich stock, then, but he coulda' guessed that.

Telling her where they were and who they were seeing was probably common courtesy, but Bo couldn't be bothered. He wasn't her babysitter, and she wasn't gonna respond anyway. He simply led her onto Lester's porch—similarly bowed and so crowded with junk you could hardly find the door—and rapped on the edge of the screen. It bounced back at him with each knock.

There was no answer, and no indication that Lester was hurrying toward the door, either, so Bo tried the knob. It turned, and he stepped into the house, letting the baked-in smell of cigarette ash and the lingering sour scent of Lester's profession wash over him.

Bird coughed softly, one of those open-mouthed kiddie coughs, but otherwise followed without complaint through a maze of furniture and trash toward the rear door.

They found Lester out back, hanging laundry along a clothesline. His skinny ass was clad in jeans and a wifebeater, and he'd forgone a hat, letting his sandy ruff see some sunlight. When the screen door squealed open, he looked over his shoulder, mouth agape, to see who it was.

"I thought it might be you!" he called at once, then turned fully, wringing the shirt in his hands. His brown eyes widened as he added, "Who— Who's that ya got with ya?"

Sometimes he looked so much like Momma it took Bo's breath away. "I dunno," he said as he let go of Bird's hand. In one movement, he stepped down from the trailer and lit up a cigarette, approaching Lester. "That's the problem."

Lester's gaze followed him, then flicked back to the kid once Bo was at his side. "Where'd she come from?" Bird still lingered at the top of the steps, and he squinted at her. "Hey, ain't that one a' your old shirts?"

"She came outta the woods," Bo mumbled around his filter, crossing his arms. "Jus' ... staggered out covered in filth like somethin' from a zombie flick. Don't talk, won't tell me who her people are ... nothin'."

He didn't like the way Lester's eyes lit up. Couple years ago, he'd been the one to convince them to keep that damn dog. Well, now he barely took care of it. A dog was one thing ... he wasn't gonna convince them to take in another stray.

"Don't start on it, Les. She belongs to someone, I just gotta find who."

Lester looked between Bo and Bird, then tossed the shirt he was holding over the clothesline, going to her. "Well, hey there, li'l lady," he said, cheerful as could be as he offered out his hands. "What's your name? Mine's Lester!"

Bird didn't respond, and Bo wasn't about to divulge the name he'd chosen for her, but Lester hardly seemed deterred. She allowed herself to be lifted into his arms, busying herself with that bone necklace he never took off.

"What's with the Sprite can?" Lester asked as he looked her over. "Why's she bald?"

"Lice," Bo grunted.

"Aw, that's no good." He shifted her in his arms and pulled a face. "Dayum, she really is a scrawny thing. You hungry, sweetpea?"

"She had breakfast." Bo was surprised at the defensiveness in his own voice, but swiftly hid his embarrassment. "I came down here 'cause I thought ya might know who her parents were. You know folks out here better than me."

Lester approached, considering the kid in his arms with a sober expression. After a few seconds, he said, "Well, I can't say ... she don't look familiar to me a'tall."

"Looks like a drunk's kid, don't she? She got them thin lips."

His brother laughed. "That don't narrow it down much, Bo!"

"Shut up." Bo could feel his shoulders tensing, and he ashed his cigarette hurriedly before taking another long draw. "They gotta be 'round here somewhere. Kids don't just walk outta the woods. Dumbass."

Lester pursed his lips and shrugged, bending to let her stand on her own. "I could try askin' around for ya. What're ya gonna do in the meantime?"

Bo looked down at Bird. She was clearly aware of her surroundings, curious even, but she stuck close to his side. "I dunno," he sighed at last. "I was thinkin' I'd take her inta town, ask if anyone knew her. If not, I'll pro'lly head to Hammond, leave her at the police station..."

"I'll keep an ear out, at any rate." Lester grinned down at the kid. "She's mighty cute. Someone's gotta be missin' her. I'nt that right, missy?"

With a noncommittal mumble, Bo took Bird's hand again. "I'll call ya later, Les."

"Leavin' so soon?"

"I wanna get this over with while I still got daylight." He was already half way around the trailer, leaving his little brother behind.

Once the kid and her Sprite can were packed into the truck, they turned out of the drive, heading southeast toward the next little town, a place called Edward. It wasn't much to look at, to be sure—one stop light, a post office, a supermarket, a tire shop, three churches, and a Pizza Hut clustered around the main road—but it was still the largest settlement in this ward.

The only thing of note within fifteen miles was the old bombing and gunnery range, a tract of unexploded ordnance left over from WWII. If her parents didn't come into Edward for groceries, he didn't know where else they could go.

Using that logic, the supermarket was first on the list.

Bo had tailored his script in the car. With practiced ease, he put on a friendly, charming face and read his lines: "I found her wanderin' by the side of the road on my way inta town. Don't suppose you know who her folks are? ... Probably just wandered out of her yard or somethin' ... Oh, don't trouble yaself. I'll jus' take 'er to the police. This one's above my pay grade, haha ... You have a good night now." The script sufficed for each stop, sounding more and more fluid every time he recited it.

Supermarket. Post office. Not one but two of the churches. Even the damn Pizza Hut. They all had the same answer: she was just as much a stranger to them as she was to him.

What in the goddamn...

As Bo exited the Pizza Hut with Bird's hand in his, his chest tightened, heart beating fast. A horrible sense of dread climbed his back like some unseen monster was behind him, licking its salivating chops.

He'd have to go to Hammond, that was it. It'd have to be Hammond. To the cops. It wasn't ideal, but he'd dealt with cops before. He didn't even have to show his face. He could probably just shove her through the door and run. Yeah. Maybe that would work.

Lost in this tangle of thoughts, his movements were robotic as he helped Bird into the passenger seat. It wasn't until he heard someone behind him calling, "Sir! Sir!" that he realized they were being followed.

The girl rushing out of the Pizza Hut couldn't have been more than twenty, dressed in a server's uniform. Her coppery blond hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, but her face was youthful, if not exactly conventionally pretty. Her hazel eyes were heavily hooded, one looking at him and one slightly lazy. Her jaw was square, but she had pretty, full lips, and Bo couldn't help but find the gap between her front teeth charming.

But charming or not, he hadn't planned for anyone to come after him. His tone was just a little off, enough that he could sense it, as he said, "Can I help ya, miss?"

"Sorry, sir." She wiped her hands on her black apron. "I'm sure ya wanna get where you were goin'."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

The girl blushed. "If ya want, the boss says ya can leave the li'l girl here, and I can take her to the police after my shift. Won't be more than an hour or two."

Bo's hackles rose. After his spiel about taking the kid right to the Hammond PD, there was only one reason someone would insist on taking her off his hands.

Despite the script, despite the mask, this girl didn't trust him.

He could see it in her face, too. It was far from the first time someone had looked at him like that. After all, he couldn't always fool everyone. The way she lifted her chin slightly, the way her jaw was set, the wariness in her eyes ... he couldn't recall making a mistake while talking to her, and yet...

Bo pasted on a smile. "That's mighty kind of you, miss, but it's no trouble. I'm headed that way anyhow."

A moment of doubt was all he needed, and she provided it predictably. When he didn't immediately fold, the girl stumbled, searching in vain for an excuse to insist again. He was already rounding his front bumper by the time she spoke, taking a few tentative steps after him.

"I don't mind. Um, now that I'm— now that I'm lookin' again, she seems a li'l familiar. I think I do know her folks."

With his hand on the driver's side handle, Bo hesitated ... but only for a second before he threw it open and lifted himself into the truck. She was lying. She didn't know shit.

He leaned over, and by the time he'd buckled Bird in, the young lady was standing outside his window, arms wrapped self-consciously around her middle.

Jesus Christ. Too brave for her own good, this one.

Bo forced a smile. "May as well take her to the cops now. But thank you for the offer, Miss...?"

"Olympia." The waitress looked unconvinced, brows and mouth drawn, but that doubt in her instincts still lingered. She may be able to read him—somehow—but she was just as transparent, emotions warring openly on her face. Her next question was directed toward Bird: "Are ya sure ya don't wanna help me with my shift, sweetheart?"

As usual, the little girl simply stared.

Ha. "Well, Olympia," Bo said, "thanks again."

Before she could reply, he started the engine and rolled away.

As they left the parking lot, he adjusted his rear view mirror to center the nosy young woman. She remained in the same spot, arms crossed, gnawing on her lip as she watched the Chevy go.

Bo had no idea why, but looking at her made the tightness in his chest worse. He got the horrible feeling that she wasn't gonna stop at one feeble confrontation.

Better hurry to Hammond.

It was a bit of a drive, but he couldn't bear the radio. Instead, he took slow, deep breaths, trying to even the pace of his heart. He was mostly unsuccessful. His pulse thudded inside his cramping neck, stomach winding itself in knots over and over. It was stupid, letting all this get to him. In Ambrose, he was in charge.

But out here ... who knew?

It felt like he'd been on the road no more than a couple of minutes when they pulled into Hammond, though he knew logically the drive was a little over twenty. Reality felt more like a dream as he parked in front of the police station.

End of the road.

Bo took his hands off the steering wheel and looked at Bird. It was a pretty apt name, he thought as he considered her. It reminded him of the robins' eggs he and Vin used to find as kids. They'd always plan to hatch 'em themselves, never acknowledging that two human boys had no business raising a wild robin. But seeing as how the eggs always inevitably grew cold, it had never mattered.

The little girl was small and helpless and needy just like a baby bird. Bald, too. That thought drew a humorless chuckle from him.

Time to push ya outta the nest.

He opened his mouth to repeat the quip aloud, but it died on his tongue. She wouldn't respond, would she? The words wouldn't stick with her. She'd either find her folks or become a ward of the state, and as she grew up, she'd forget this.

Whatever he said now would eventually be forgotten by both of them. So why bother?

Bo looked at the police station doors, then back at Bird. She had those big ol' eyes open wide, gazing warily at the police cruisers as she hugged her pop can. The yellow rain boots squeaked as she shifted in her seat.

She had to go. And he'd be glad to get rid of her.

She had to go.

***

It was mid-afternoon by the time Vincent finished the final wax figure. He was a quick worker when he put his head down—especially when he was avoiding something else—and he'd had a few days to perfect the man and the two women.

Bo had been busy with the child, so Vincent had taken the liberty of choosing where the new additions to the town would go. His twin wouldn't be angry; when it came to this, they were usually of one mind anyway. They had the same vision. They both wanted Momma's town to come to life the way she'd always wanted. It had to be perfect. After all, it was the most important thing in their lives.

Was.

As Vincent emerged from the house of wax with Jonesy, squinting in the low-hanging sun, he tried to reassure himself. Bo finding that child had been ... jarring, to say the least, but it wouldn't be a problem after today. He had promised to find her parents, and if he couldn't, the police would take her.

Her sudden appearance had been unexpected, yes. She had put an irritating, albeit temporary, hold on their plans, sure. But Vincent wasn't prone to catastrophizing.

So why did his chest feel so damn tight?

He made his way up the hill toward the house, Jonesy jingling at his heels. He could have used the tunnels, but it was November, and the days were getting shorter. This would be the only sunlight he got until tomorrow. Lester would scold him if he knew.

Bo's truck was in the driveway. Good—so he was home. They'd have to discuss the places Vincent had selected for the new statues over dinner, then maybe start moving things to the mill. Because of the interruption, they were a day and a half behind schedule, so they'd have to work into the night.

Vincent took his hand from his pocket, relaxing his shoulders as he turned the knob and entered their childhood home. He could rest easy knowing everything was back to normal.

Around this time of day, he'd expect Bo to be in the kitchen, but he couldn't hear water running or dishes clanking. Vincent stood still, listening for the rattling pipes of the shower upstairs, but ... no, nothing. Odd.

Finally, he shrugged off his hoodie and stepped into the den.

Bo sat in Daddy's old recliner, passed out, mouth open. In his arms, the little girl clung to him limply, her breathing as deep and even as his. She wore one of his trucker caps, so big on her head that it covered her eyes.

A lance of mingling fear and anger tore through Vincent.

She had to go.

***

Chapter 5

Tip Jar

Masterlist