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blacklistedfun · 8 days

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Grief

Moral Oral- Character: Reverend Putty

Tw: death, implied suicide

My interpretation on how he'd handle this situation, so forgive me for any or all oocness. I wanted to explore his empathy fatigue.

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The service was to be hush-hush, discreet and private, reserved only for the parents. There wasn’t even a need to change the church’s sign for the occasion, which was a tell-tale sign in itself about the deceased.

Normally, Mrs. Tishan would call ahead to give him a heads-up whenever the coroner received a new body, but today was different. The Reverend was completely blindsided with this one.

Reverend Putty hadn’t even known they had a kid until they approached him about the funeral. Had they ever mentioned her? Or maybe he just hadn’t been listening. The mother was one of the nosy, gossiping biddies he often made a point to avoid in his congregation, and he’d only really spoken to the father when he brought his car to the man’s mechanic shop. Conversations limited to idle talk of pride and concern revolving around one of Rod's prized possessions.

Regardless, it all came to light on a sunny afternoon when the older couple sought his counsel. He was finishing up in his office, filing away his sermon for the upcoming Sunday when he heard a knock on the door.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs.."

Rod was ready to brush them off with some excuse from already having plans, but once they stepped inside, Rod realized how unusual they were acting. The mother's sunken eyes, drained from countless tears, narrated a tragedy even before she spoke. The father, trying to be a pillar of strength, held a tight arm wrapped around her as though anticipating a storm. They sat before his desk, their demeanor almost trance-like.

The Reverend assumed it was something mild and harmless, like infidelity, from the usually chipper couple. Maybe the woman's gossiping had finally caught up with them, or the husband had finally knocked up that young woman from the diner. The one everyone and their grandmother knew he was not-so-subtly sweet on.

Trying to lighten the mood for what scandal might come, Reverend Putty forced a chuckle and quipped, "Geez, you two, who died?"

“Our daughter.”

The cheerful chirping of birds from the summer day outside suddenly went mute in the Reverend’s ears. The office immediately felt like a stifling cage closing in on him.

“O-Oh…?”

A wave of embarrassment pummeled the Reverend as he swallowed air. He looked at the mother’s puffy, hollow eyes, no longer aflame with gossip and disgusting casserole recipes. The father, usually strong as a stone, was beginning to crumble, his shoulders slumped with a feint quiver, unable to meet his gaze.

Rod’s chest grew tight, his stomach sinking further as he struggled to find the right words. A death in the family explained their demeanor, how could he not have seen it before?

“I'm... I'm so sorry for your loss.”

The father simply nodded, unclenching his jaw, a low rumble emerging that had none of its usual strength when he began to speak.

"We'd like you to do the service here, just for us. Private, please. No pamphlets, no... no one else but the pallbearers and Mr. and Mrs. Tishan. Don't put her name on the sign."

"Of course, c-certainly," Reverend Putty stammered, fumbling with the forms he was hastily pulling from his desk, trying to move away from his social blunder. He quickly shifted into professional pastor mode, adopting an almost stoic and businesslike demeanor to navigate through this delicate matter.

"Here, if you could...fill these out, please?"

Trying to draw from years of experience with grieving families, Reverend Putty guided the husband through the questions on the forms, offering stiff but steady support. He resorted to a few well-rehearsed lines of sympathy he had used countless times, hoping to speed up the process and conclude the depressing task at hand without putting his foot in his mouth again.

"Times like these, we just have to hold onto faith and each other... it’s, well, it's never easy. These... these things."

A simple, Christian funeral service was all they wanted for their dearly departed. Though they were tight-lipped about the passing, any personal questions about the deceased felt like treading on eggshells, and Rod wasn’t about to prod and risk stepping on a landmine. When the forms asked for the birth and death dates, the father faltered, his hands trembling with the pen as he struggled to write, until Rod gently took over.

"Here, let me..."

As the consultation drew to a close and they prepared to leave, Reverend Putty thought he was in the clear. Thankfully, the parents hadn’t asked for grief counseling; Rod wasn’t keen on scheduling regular sessions of this kind of ordeal.

Unfortunately, it was just the calm before the storm.

Before Rod could even stand to get the door, the woman collapsed inward as she rose from her chair, overcome with sobs before her husband could guide her out. Horrible, guttural sounds wrenched from her, unlike anything Rod had ever heard, especially from someone usually so soft-spoken. His hands began to tremble as her cries filled the room, a small puddle forming on his office floor.

Oh, Lord..not this...

Rod was never good with criers, especially with crying women. But he couldn’t just tell her to hold it in. Couldn't just tell her to repress her pain like they were in the repressional.

He stood up slowly, stiff and uncertain, completely at a loss for what to say or do. Rod could have offered a handkerchief or a comforting hug, but the initiative and strength to do so was lost within him. Instead, he stood there awkwardly, hands tensely clasped in front of him, his familiar gesture of insecurity.

"Dear, dear, please get up, not here..." The husband tried to coax her up, but to no avail. She wouldn’t budge, simply sinking deeper into her grief within herself. He knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her. "It wasn't your fault..."

This was going to be a rough one, he could already tell. One that would probably lead to him going straight to the repressional afterward. The Reverend couldn't even begin to imagine how rough the funeral would be.

How difficult, how uncomfortable...

"Lord... I-I'm sorry, I just... never imagined I'd be... p-p-planning my baby's funeral..." she stammered, unable to find more words, her heart-wrenching sobs filling his office as her husband wrapped an arm around her, barely keeping it together himself. Rod's anxious shakes matched nothing to his own.

"L-Listen, both of you..."

This could have been the perfect moment to deliver the “it’s all part of God’s plan” speech, the usual fix-all for unexpected tragedies. But with the woman sobbing a flood right in front of him, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He knew it would offer no comfort.

“I understand the pain you’re both going through, the loss of a loved one…”

But he didn’t, not truly.

Rod's mother had passed away when he was four, leaving him with only a few fading memories, none of which held any real sense of loss. Just a kind, blurry face that held him and lulled him to sleep, there one moment and gone the next. His father’s death, on the other hand, had felt like a blessing at first; Putty Senior had been gone in spirit long before God hit the brakes on his heart at 51. That blessing, however, quickly turned into a curse when Rod picked up the mantle his father left behind, driven by a sense of obligation that eventually left him more bitter towards the old curmudgeon.

The loss of a child, though, was beyond him.

The husband attempted to soothe her, drawing her into an embrace as he tried to raise her toward the door. Yet her cries only grew louder as she clung to him, now soaking his work shirt. Reverend Putty, feeling like an unwilling witness, out of place and useless in his own church, could only watch as the husband tried to help her stand.

On second thought, he’d probably skip the repressional and go straight to Forghetty’s.

Rod finally stepped out from behind the safety of his desk to walk closer, trying not to feel entirely inept in his role.

"Ma'am, please listen to me..."

He began to wax poetic. Reciting well-worn lines from memory as best as he could scramble, placing a cautious hand on the woman's shoulder. He spoke of their daughter now looking down on them from Heaven, offering phrases like, "Basking on a cloud, free from the woes of Earth, another angel gaining its wings."

That kind of rhetoric.

Rod vaguely recalled reading something similar on a cereal box once, but it seemed to have the desired effect. The woman's harrowing sobs and convulsions lessened just enough, allowing her to voice a tentative question, her bleary-eyed gaze focusing on him.

"I know...I know there's nothing I can say to ease your pain, but I promise you, she's in a better place now."

"P-promise? She's... she's in Heaven?"

Taken aback by her desperation, he hesitated. Rod’s clerical collar suddenly felt uncomfortably tight around his neck despite being a flimsy piece of cotton he slips on every day. Shifting a glance to the husband, the Reverend realized he, too, was waiting for an answer.

"Probably...?"

Subtle hints, like the woman’s age, the obvious trauma in the parents, and the request for a private service, suggested that her passing might not have been entirely by the book. Moreover, given that she had never attended his church, in Rod’s professional opinion, she was more likely screaming upwards than smiling down.

Rod felt a bead of sweat forming on his brow, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he spoke.

“W-Well, sure...”

Was she in Heaven? Probably not, but he couldn’t just say that to them. To be frank, he didn’t know what kind of life their daughter had led. He had no evidence to suggest she should be in Heaven. Or in Hell.

But looking at the broken woman with a husband bearing her grief and his own, both drowning in it, he just couldn't say no, or even offer a half-hearted "That's for God to decide." Besides, these were the parishioners whose generous donations had pretty much funded his car's down payment, not that it mattered in this moment. It was just a little fact that he couldn't help but put into consideration.

He drew in a deep breath and nodded with faux confidence.

"Yes... she is. I’m sure of it," he lied, forcing himself to hold her gaze. The words felt too heavy, not because they were untrue, but because he knew how much she needed to hear them. "I swear it."

The mother exhaled heavily at his promise, and Rod noticed the father's own sigh of relief, as if he had expected the Reverend might say otherwise. The grieving mother whispered her thanks, the small, wispy sound muffled by her hands as she turned away, trying to compose herself. She wiped away snot and tears with trembling fingers until she pulls her husband's grease-stained rag out from his front pocket.

"Thank you," the broken man whispered, his voice thick with gratitude and despair. Perhaps he knew better too.

The husband guided his wife up and out, nodding thanks to him for a parting goodbye. After they left the office, Rod sighed, feeling hollow while listening to their slow footsteps echo in the sanctuary.

He waited until they were fully gone, hearing the entry doors opening and shutting before sinking back into his chair with a sigh. For a moment, his shoulders sagged, and the facade of being a caring and understanding pastor faded. Rod felt like he had failed them, offering empty reassurances about a daughter he knew nothing about, just to get them out the door.

"Christ on the cross... that was the worst one yet..."

Rod generally had no qualms about lying, but offering comfort in times of grief, whether inspired by a cereal box or from his own heart, was not his forte.

This wasn’t a new experience for him. He was the town's pastor, after all, and handling hard truths was on par with the job. But when raw emotion and real pain were right in front of him, that's where he often struck out the hardest. His eyes flicked to the cross, a miffed expression crossing his face.

"What, no divine warning or anything for that?"

They were around his age too. Rod couldn’t imagine burying a child. He didn’t even have a partner, let alone a kid, there was no way he could empathize with the devastation they're feeling. Not that he wanted to.

For a moment, eyes flicking from the cross to the tears on the floor, his mind wandered. Rod imagined himself in the husband’s place, being a father and burying a child of his own. The harrowing thought of outliving your children was something he couldn’t bear to imagine.

He immediately shook his head to dispel the thought and grabbed fresh paper from his desk drawer. That wasn’t going to happen, not anytime soon. Or ever.

As much as he wanted to run for the bar after that disaster of a consultation, Rod prepared for the next grueling task: the eulogy.

Although he suspected that their daughter might not have been a devout Christian, having only learned of her existence in the worst possible way, he was determined to craft a tribute more heartfelt than his usual spiel. The parents were so devastated that their faith seemed to be the only thing they had left, and that was the only thing he could really use to help.

At least something more than just the first draft this time.

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Thank you for reading! Had notes for the end of this but Tumblr hiccuped on me so I'm leaving this alone for now.

#moral orel #reverend putty #rod putty #fic #fanfic

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archetypal-archivist · 1 year

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A Kinder World AU- Part 10

Fit, Ramon, and Spreen’s House

masterlist

Fit is a longtime resident of Quesadilla town, having moved there after his honorable discharge from the armed forces due to the injury he incurred in the same battle as Philza was during the man’s own time serving. He currently runs a boat repair service that has morphed into one part construction company, one part handyman shop, one part lab for his son’s- Ramon- mad machinery experiments. Spreen is a late addition to the family, the younger man currently living there as an apprentice mechanic, albeit reluctantly, as the town had no where else to put him after Roier and Bobby came with him to seek asylum. What the man lacks in mechanical knowhow he makes up for in brute force stubbornness and overall, the trio work well together- when Spreen bothers to stick around at least.

1) Spreen’s house is an offshoot of Fit’s main property and is essentially a shed that was retrofitted with a bathroom and proper heating, insulation, and running water. It’s not fancy but it works well enough for Spreen, as he is loathe to spend more time inside than he absolutely needs to. Preferring to spend his time on various people’s rooves or helping out unobtrusively, the interior is barely decorated, featuring only an IKEA pull-out bed/sofa, a few drawings foisted off on him by stubborn Bobby, a rickety fold-out table, and a lone bedraggled cactus given to him by Jaiden. Roier thinks it looks like a prison but Spreen doesn’t care much one way or another. The most important thing is that it’s quiet and doesn’t come with a lock.

2) A good 2/3s of the time, main dock of Fit’s property is absolutely covered in machinery and is unfit for human habitation, let alone for children to play on. Boats drydocked for hull repair, welding equipment, water and air hoses- anything and everything a person could need to build, fix, destroy, remodel, retrofit, revise, or render something into pieces. Ramon has grown up around the dock so he knows how to traverse it safely and he’s taught Dapper how to do so as well, but Fit trusts very few others to safely navigate the area so he restricts his home to his immediate family, Dapper, and now Spreen. Roier has managed to sneak in a few times to see his friend but after an accident involving a stack of rebar and an emergency trip to Rubius, he knows better than to try. Spreen instead goes to Roier’s place and that almost suites them better- no more intrusions into Spreen’s space and complete safety from pranks, as Pac and Mike’s ill-fated encounter with Fit’s “parkour course” can attest to.

3) Ramon and Fit live in the main house on the property, which comes equipped with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a postage stamp kitchen, and two empty locked rooms Ramon isn’t sure what to do with. Spreen and Ramon have thought about turning one into a sort of living room but neither are quite sure what sort of “living” any of them would do there, as no one is the type to relax- the most relaxing thing Ramon does is sleep, Fit’s remnant PTSD and nightmares keep him from things like sitting still in a quiet place for too long, and Spreen hates enclosed spaces. As such, the rooms remain empty and summarily avoided, as if leaving a space for something unknown. Dapper is of the belief that the rooms are haunted, as he, Spreen, and Ramon will sometimes press their ears to the door and hear strange noises, but Fit just tells them they’re hallucinating and to move on with their day. The empty rooms don’t mean that Fit and his kid are without hobbies however- both love to do mad science with the spare machinery left around their property and Ramon in particular loves to supe up various household appliances to see how much damage they can do and how much punishment they can take. Spreen thinks they’re both nuts, but even he can’t dismiss the allure of shoving a bag of marbles into a super blender just to watch the sparks fly.

4) Fit’s room is closed off from the rest of the house, accessible only be a rusted metal ladder that leads down to the sea below, which is an intentional alteration Fit made to his room upon moving into the house. Given his PTSD, he much prefers sleeping in a defensible location and away from anything he could hurt or could hurt him were he to lash out in his sleep. The room itself is barebones and utilitarian, but Fit only uses the room to sleep so he thinks that’s just fine. Ramon, per his own insistence, sleeps on the other side of the wall and his room is much more decorated. Full of homemade wind-up toys, half-completed homework, piles of dirty laundry, and mountains of books, it’s a little boy’s stereotypical room, posters and hiding spots included. His father’s nightmares do wake him up on occasion, but overall Ramon loves his room with all his heart and happily smuggles Dapper into it for sleepovers at any opportunity.

5) The hook beneath Fit’s office is used for lifting boats up out of the water and onto the dock so Fit can work on them more properly, but that’s not the only thing it’s been used for. Any time a large shipment of materials for construction are shipped over from the mainland, it ends up at Fit’s Fix-it to be unpacked and reduced down for transport to the construction site. Much of the material for the initial building of the Favela was transported in this way, as was the furniture for Los Casulonas, which came as a matched set in a massive set of crates. Fit also sometimes takes on restoration projects for a little spare income and those too also come in via boat, to be unloaded via crane. The last purpose of the crane and winch under the office is to hang a disco ball off of, although a very drunk Slimecicle was the only one to insist that that’s a purpose at all- Fit was not impressed.

6) Fit’s office is the most professional part of the property, done up in clean whites and polished blues and blacks, with tasteful knickknacks and photographs of his previous projects. Given Fit’s propensity to take on a wide variety of projects, there are plenty of photographs to go around with Ramon featured in a not insignificant number of them, although Spreen is beginning to show up in a few as well. It’s this office that Felps, Pac, Mike, and Forever all found themselves in when they negotiated with Fit to build them a home on the water, and now find themselves in at least once a month to pay an installment on the fees required for the construction. The five of them have turned it into a sort of game night (alcohol included) and it’s a merry time for all involved until Fit actually makes them cough up the money- then it’s nothing but whining, heh.

7) Fit’s boat is a monster of a tugboat kitted out with a new hull to make it more streamlined, a beast of a motor, and a paint job that screams speed courtesy of Ramon and Dapper with a few cans of spray paint. Fit claims it’s for towing boats in for repair fast when their motors break down or they start taking in water, but everyone knows it’s really because the man is a speed demon with a love for all things fast and loud. It’s one of the few things he and Spreen agree on and the two happily will spend an afternoon tuning it up and testing it out. During the annual island boat race, it happily breezes past most of the competition, although Pac and Mike, Badboyhalo, and Rubius never let him win without a fight. He docks it right by the repair docks and it’s almost as much of a trademark of Fit’s Fix-It as the piles of machinery and Ramon’s favorite stick-on mustaches.

8) Spreen hates to stay inside and hates even more to be told what to do, but he’ll listen if he has reason to and he hates boredom most of all. As such, it’s not uncommon for him to spend the day sitting outside his house with a pen knife and a block of wood whittling a toy or a useful knickknack for someone in the community. However, on his long list of things Spreen loathes, social interaction ranks highly so he much prefers to leave the trinkets on someone’s doorstep in secret. He’ll also do things like perch on other people’s roof tops, clean gutters, fix broken fuses and roof tiles, and scrape barnacles off of parked boats. It’s all only a distraction, however, as Spreen often battles against a feeling of claustrophobia. Quesadilla is so small and the world is so big, there are days that all he wants to do is run for the horizon as far and as fast as he can. Fit doesn’t know how to talk about it, and Roier isn’t sure how to make him stay without making Spreen feel trapped, so it’s much like the leery tension of a looming thunderstorm. No one knows if Spreen will ever pluck up the will to leave, least of all the man himself. The thought keeps him up at night.

#qsmp #a kinder world au #mc #my writing #spreen #fitmc #ramon #quackity smp #townscaper

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demondaydreamer · 11 months

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Monster Hunter Stories concept:

Ok so I never write anything down on this site but I wanted to jot an idea I had for the (superior) mh stories series.

Since the concept of befriending monsters is such a recent game spinoff, (don't know how "new" it is in the monster hunter universe) but it would be so cool if you could revisit old game locations with monsties as a way to breathe new life into the next mh stories game and also appeasing old fans.

I've got a few examples from the old games (at least ones that I myself have played, feel free to drop your own ideas in if you've played any others, that'd be really cool) but imagine revisiting Moga Village from mh3u and introducing the scared, mistrustful folk of Moga to your Lagiacrus monstie, teaching people not to fear monsters but to respect them and that they can be befriended as helpful companions.

Another example is to revisit old characters that you could breathe new life into by pairing their characters with suiting monsties. Such as the mh4u quest maiden with Brachydios, as OGs will remember her having a special quest where she admired Brachy.... "Admired".

Like even if it seems weird because it "feels" like such a long time ago, since it's an older game, they could just fix this with the introduced rider being their child/grandchild. They've done a similar thing in mh Rise with the Sunbreak smithy being an ode to the mh4u Smith girl you have with your caravan team.

Another NPC/monstie duo I thought would be cool would be Julius (Ace Commander from Mh4u) with Kushala Daora, since his Master had to retire due to an attack from one, it could have such enemies-to-friends character ark potential!

Anyway, other than the potential for unearthing old locations and characters for older MH fans, there's potential for new game mechanics, story concepts and side quests by letting other people in the MH universe be taught/discover monstie bonding/riders, rather than keeping it exclusive to one tiny tribe in the middle of no where. You could have villages, towns and cities coexisting with monsties in order to help them in their lives and with their occupations, examples:

Royal ludroth coast guard

Lagiacrus with a fishing company

Mizutsune soap shop

Glavenus sushi bar

Basarios/Gravios helping a mining company

Kulu chicken farm??

Pukei insect exterminator

Great Jaggi (or any dog wyvern ig) school tour guide (and the kids could be on jaggias dude that would be so cute)

Qurupeco for finding endangered species using their calls

Zamtrios/jade barroth/gammoth for travelling in and clearing snow on roads and the like

Diablos/uragaan for bulldozing or agriculture

Generally loads more ideas, any of the flying monsters could be used from things like search and rescue to postal service. I guess anything you can think of that we do with animals you could incorporate into the stories universe with monsties. This includes all the bad stuff too! Like animal pitting, or breeding for rare colours/traits at the expense of health, or weaponising for war n selfish ideals, which I know has already been done in the first Stories but yeah.

Anyway those are my thoughts, I might draw these concepts, might not. Let me know if there are any monster hunter fans that have any thoughts, that'd be cool :)

#monster hunter #monster hunter stories #game concept #monster hunter concept #idea #mh4u #mh3u

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trashytoastboi · 2 years

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Hello! May I please request a headcanon post about the Strawhats as travelling merchants?

Heyya! Sure thing 🍞 this was quite an interesting one to write! I won't deny that 90% of my merchant knowledge comes from Spice & Wolf 🤣🍀 hope you enjoy~

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Headcanons: The Straw-Hat's being travelling merchants

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Straw-Hat Crew

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Robin📚 The researcher. Market research, audience studies, target market, trends, demand and supply. Robin takes care of all of it. She is precise and proficient that she can usually guess a good investment and stock up on things before a massive price boom. She knows the location they are going to visit beforehand, she research the markets, what they have and what they need. Handles all official paperwork such as travel permits and declaration forms of their products and wares.

Nami🍊 Money and maps. The books, the profits, the expenditure. Not a single beri escapes her gaze. She often works on the books and focuses on how to maximize those profits so that the zeros only grow positively in the bank. She's in it to win it and will work alongside Robin whenever she sniffs out a good chance to make some coin. Nami also plans out the most efficient routes to their next destination.

Brook 🎻 Handles the advertising, he uses his skills with music to attract people almost like a pied piper. The music creates a soothing and pleasant atmosphere for the people who come around to shop and peruse the Straw Hats various wares. He leaves his hat out as a welcome for tips, Nami's idea of course.

Franky 🤖 Franky mostly handles repairs for the various wagons and carts the group need when travelling. He is usually there to handle appraisals as well, having a very good eye to see through bad materials. He creates mechanical knickknacks for sale and offers repair services for all sorts of things.

Usopp 🏹 The salesman could probably sell your own liver back to you. He has a silver tongue and a great well of flattery up his sleeve. Ussop is the best man for the job as he chats up every product perfectly, so much so that nearly everything he proclaims the greatness of will sell out. For every product he has a tall tale to go with it. Customers want value and sensationalism which Ussop knows very well.

Luffy 🍖 An unusual and strange charm that tends to draw customers and trouble. Luffy is the head of their little band of merchants and dictates where they go. A bit inconvenient as Luffy is very erratic and his paths are never linear, usually leading them to the most random location. Usually results getting into arguments with other merchants. A territorial dispute you could say. Though Luffy usually convinces those merchants to just work alongside them.

Sanji 🍽 Sanji is in charge of cooking meals for the Straw Hats as well as trading spices, making food to draw more customers by offering snacks and samples. He calls the shots on rare ingredients and whether it's better to trade them or cook them. A lot of returning customers are there for Sanji's food and his ever so convenient mixed spice packs.

Zoro ⚔ Zoro is not well versed in the matters of trade, nor bookkeeping and even making something to sell. So what he does handle is the security. Brawn is his literal strong suit and he works hard to protect the merchants, their wares and any apparatus. There usually aren't any problems, because Zoro takes care of them quickly. If its too overwhelming a few others would step in but thus far a situation where it's been too much has not arisen.

Jinbei 🥋 Jinbei is in charge of driving the wagon and heading the wagon train. He coordinates the setting up of their little market area. Works closely with Nami when planning routes as Jinbei takes all the obstacles into account when travelling. Also being one of the more amicable and well versed members, he handles negotiations for locations and permissions to set up a campsite doubled traveling shop.

Chopper 🍭 Medicine and Animals. Chopper makes various salves, medicines, and ointments for a wide variety of things. In fact Miracle Medicine is not too far off to describe the health tonics he creates. They are one of the best sellers that the Straw Hat merchant group has to offer. Chopper also takes it upon himself to look after the animals that help with pulling the wagons when they travel on land, as well as offering free medical check ups for anyone that seeks one.

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runicmagitek · 9 months

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Hihi! 😃👋🏾

11 How do you come up with your fic titles?

16 Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

20 What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

AAA thanks so much for the ask!! 💖

11) How do you come up with your fic titles?

Dumb fucking luck jsdaklfjdklsjfkldas. In the past, I relied heavily on song lyrics and I've tried my best to steer away from that as my default method, but hey, sometimes a song goes so hard and really nails the vibes that you just HAVE to use it. That said, I try to be a bit more creative and come up with stuff on my own. Like if there's an ongoing theme or whatever, I try to tie that into the title. Like my fic Anchor Point, it's about a character who does archery and also has a complicated relationship with his family. An anchor point in archery is the spot you always draw to so you can stay consistent with your shots. I had an instructor once explain it as everyone's anchor point is different, but it's where you're most comfortable holding that drawstring, like a home. And that always stuck with me and thus why I called it that (ok that got rambly, but yes, this is the level of thought I put into my titles)

16) Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Depends on the fic! I know for 13 Sentinels, I've done A TON of research to double-check historical things from both the 1940s and 1980s in Japan, along with cultural differences. I know for What Leads You Here, I went down a massive rabbit hole in the process of preparing lumber for construction use. God, No U-Turns was a HUGE research project for me too, bc I knew fuck all about cars and working in a mechanic shop (which is also a big part of why it took me so long to finally write it, bc I was so nervous to write that, even if it was just a backdrop for the rom-com nonsense). I remember whenever I had to take my car in for service, there was a window in the waiting room that looked into the garage and I used to jot notes about how everything looked and how the mechanics operated, just to get the vibes right. It's those little things that make a difference!

20) What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Honestly? I love editing! Having everything laid out and getting to clean it up so the story can shine is such a satisfying feeling. I used to be very intimidated by it, but once I got into the groove and figured out what processes worked for me, I learned to love it.

#runic rambles #meme thing #my writing

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sleepydross · 1 year

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To Kill The Gods Chapter One: A House Is Not A Home Content Warnings: Discussions of bigotry, extreme physical and mechanical augmentation, mild non-sexual nudity, drug / nicotine use

Hi. Welcome to Chapter One. Do me a favor okay? Mind the content warnings, I'll try to do them comprehensively on every chapter. Mind the tags, if you want to find story posts easily, search 'Vassal Dash Six Story,' every post will have this tag. If you like my work please reblog I guess, I'd like people to read it. <3 Thank you. ------ As was always the case whenever its 'time to be awake' alarm went off, it woke up with the sound, and let it play for a few moments, until it felt like moving was a little bit easier - stiffness was common, those days. The only work it could find was construction and retrofitting, and since it had the hardware and… physiology… for extreme magic HAZMAT…

Sore, it gestured reflexively as it used its headware to silence the alarm. The creature's bed was simple, little more than a cot with a thin pad on it, as was its preference. As soon as its feet hit cement, it walked the two feet to the 'window,' where it drew the curtains to look outside. Despite attempting to emulate a window, including active head position tracking and syncing with its headware, the damned digiglass still flickered - one of the integration systems was under maintenance, and it had impacted digiglass city-wide.

Allegedly, it was going to be fixed two months prior, but the wheels of the Vegas-4 Urban Reclamation Zone's management council turned… distinctly slowly, because of resource limitations and sheer expense.

With a sigh, it picked up the hot cup of tea that the dispenser on its small, personal table prepared, and took a sip, disquieted by the absence of gear, uncomfortable with the usage of lips. Typically it limited consumption to automatic routines that left its meat numb, but… the tea was hot, and it wasn't looking for more burns.

Outside, from the perspective of EXT-CAM-841 located approximately three floors above, the city was alive with motion. Transport craft based on modified Hellish VTOL engines flitted about, carrying cargo or people, less than a third of them driven by hand. The skywalks were seas of motion, people walking along quarter mile wide pavilions, shopping at stalls…

"Weather," it rasped, cringing at its unchosen voice.

"Weather currently is… unlisted. NAU Meteorological Services are currently on standby due to a thaumic discordance near to the primary detection array," its phone said, sitting on the table by the dispenser.

"That's normal," it murmured, unnerved but… not surprised, explicitly. Vegas-4 had been going to shit for a while. It seemed like the longer the earthbound walled cities ran on, the more and more they broke down. Everyone was focused on Mars, on Luna, on the Moon Egg… down there, in the dirt of their homeworld, things were more and more just… falling apart.

It often pondered… why, but never came to a satisfying conclusion.

The Wall, in the deep distance, towered above it all - the first of its kind, a miracle brought about by the first truly successful mass ritualistic working in human history. On its top, it was green, and covered in the Forest Ring. Sometimes, when it was lucky, it managed to snag logging detail work, and got to go up there - its hardware and modifications were suited to hostile environs, even frigid perpetual winters and thin atmospheres - hookups for atmo tanks were a simple matter, and the posion sap of the mutated trees capable of surviving up there?

It was, by mercy, immune.

It stood there, as the sun clawed its way above the wall, and began to draw lines across the city as its beams cut between the trees and towers. Darkness was a familiar creature to humanity - they had endured it so long it had started to feel like home. Though they were rare, there were still people who eschewed light entirely - the Faceless were sympathetic. To feel light on the skin…

Was all too easy to see how it could be uncomfortable.

Sighing, it finished the tea and looked up at the blue of the sky. For nearly one hundred and fifty years after the Reconnection… all one would see looking up was the Black Accusation, coating the planet in dark, oily clouds that were thickest around The Vast One…

Earth was a scarred place. It took over five hundred years just for the flagging population of the planet to figure out how to unfuck the sky! The Egg of The Vast, the Moon Egg, hung in the sky, dead and inert, permanently aborted before it could birth a twin to their primary problem at that time - Humanity's first victory against the Vast Ones.

The unit couldn't look anywhere without seeing the echoes of the past, of the wars and death, the destruction and adaptation…

When did a rock become little more than a tomb for a tortured past?

These things had weighed heavy on its mind, in the days prior to that, on that morning. The past was a heavy thing, its chains and bones still binding people to ancient beliefs and rituals that made no sense in the modern day - for instance, it couldn't get off the literally god damned rock no matter what it tried. People were still reliant on their biases, and those changed with as much regularity as a clock could tick.

The boom of accepting willing, hard upgraded Faceless onto terraforming effort teams, colony teams, even fucking planet-side land reclaimation teams… had passed, almost at the same time as it made the choice to adopt a visage of choice, and not one of simple happenstance. Regardless of the pervasive nonsense suddenly on the minds of every recruiter, every organizer and every ridiculous head-up-ass logistics director…

It'd pass, and until then, there would always be work for folks like it, even if people didn't want to admit it, wanted to pretend they weren't useful, wanted to act like they were freaks or weirdos or whatever new bullshit they'd come up with. It'd pass, and people would be willing to let it be useful again. Until then, holding pattern. Do its best, as much work as it could that was useful and difficult and-

"Pardon me for the interruption," the building's management AI said, in her measured, clipped tone. Overall, the Unit found her to be quite pleasant, but not really so pleasant intruding on its privacy.

"My settings have not been altered," it said, quietly. "Do you see me?"

"No, Unit, I do not. Protocol does not allow visual settings overrides in any private space. Audio is only available so long as my task is incomplete," it said, speaking to the unit like a fucking person for once. In the presence of others, she was required to be in front-facing mode, which forced a faux sort of clean, sterile cheeriness. "I experience no pleasure from intruding, believe me."

"I do," it replied. "What is it, Nancy?"

"A priority two-fehu communication request has been directed through the Redline System, with your designation on it," the AI replied. The unit looked up, sharply. Two-fehu was high classification - and the Redline System? That was supposed to be for contacting government folks, or contractors, scientists… not random Faceless. "I have not been provided any meaningful information, nor any details."

"Request them, please… I'm sorry," it said, tiredly. Nancy had enough work on her plate managing the building, even with the upgrades to her hardware systems. She was, granted, an L-AI, her neural systems inherently limited - not on purpose, and not for lack of trying. Even the most advanced Hellish AI were L-AI, making the designation almost pointless. No one was even sure if a C-AI, complete versus limited AI, was even possible.

No one was sure Death would allow it.

"All details stated to be classified above L-AI access allowances," she replied, after several moments. "The call is from… hm. The name is concealed by means I am unfamiliar with, but bearing a grant signature."

"Grant signature?"

"Obfuscation of the name is approved by the governing council."

That, it had to admit, was a new one. A name obfuscation? Even Faceless had to adhere to required identification protocols, and in fact, had to do so… much more often than others - another petty inconvenience imposed by old bigotries rearing their heads in new ways.

"…will they be able to alter my visual feed settings?"

"Would it matter, given that all integrated security systems were mapped and those maps were provided to you?" Nancy asked. It chuckled, having installed its own aperture caps over the lenses. No one saw its space unless it opened those.

"No, it would not. Put them through," it replied, bemusedly. "And please don't listen in."

"I could not. I do not have the clearance."

The unit frowned, and then regretted it, and decided that it would gear itself up as soon as possible. The Unchosen Form was particularly grating, that day.

As it walked, nude and unconcerned, across its microscopic single room apartment to the shower, the communication connection was completed, and an augmented reality projection displayed itself on the unit's vision, via optic nerve intercept image injection systems in its headware.

"Hello. I will ask right off the start the following questions," the projection of a vaguely humanoid shadow said, in a deeply neutral voice. Very spy-bullshitty, which made it nervous, so it turned the hot water on and waited. "How do I refer to you? I am, at best, unfamiliar with… Faceless, as it were."

"This one's designation is Vassal Dash Six," it replied, evenly. "Pronouns are explicitly it/its."

"Vassal Dash Six, fascinating… any other names?" the shadow asked. It washed its furlike mane, a modification chosen for the adaptability provided - alongside the thick pads of fur on the outsides of its arms, covering its back. Dusty, grayish-black, it was suitable, and functional.

"This one's previous work group nicknamed it 'Longwalk,' due to its habit of volunteering for the longest haul trips, which usually required significant distance transport of heavy loads," it replied, uncertainly. "Nicknames are often situational and temporary."

"Why volunteer for extra work? Logging is dangerous enough, even with exo-hardware, especially up on the wall in the Forest Circle. Endurance would also be difficult, and require-"

"Because I have spent the majority of all paychecks on significant modifications to my nervous, respiratory and integumentary systems, making me particularly qualified for hazardous and extreme environments, and because I am strong," it replied, stepping out of the shower and onto its drying plate. Like very few, it had chosen to specialize… and specializing meant that the fur lining its arms and back weren't going to dry themselves, nor would a towel do a particularly good job if the unit wanted it to be quick.

"Cold environments? Low oxygen environments?" the shadow asked, as Vassal pulled on a pair of underwear and made sure they were sitting correctly.

"This one is highly specialized for variable temperature extremes, low oxygen environments, toxic and caustic threats to a limited degree, and heavy load lifting," it replied. This was, if it was a job interview, one of the weirdest fucking job interviews it had ever endured. "I am also equipped with a full headware package, class three, with environmental scan capabilities, bio-tier olfactory chemical detection-"

"Class seven skeletal reinforcement, full exoframe porting… and an excellent service record. Very good," the shadow replied.

"Forgive me, but if you knew all of this already, why are you asking me? Am I correct in assuming you are associated with the government? Because I has no interest in classified work projects, government service, or being treated like I'm not a person," it said, curtly, tugging on its bra and making sure its boobs were situated. "I also require that any longterm work project meet specific needs."

"Explain those needs."

"Consistent access to a pharma printer with necessary components for generation of organic medical supplements or otherwise a specific stock of implant-mangement compatible vials of organic medical supplements for the duration of the assignment plus ten percent for safety," it replied, promptly. "Estrogen, implant managed, primarily. Additionally, progesterone and two hundred milligrams of-"

"Alchemically active sivagyn," the shadow interrupted. "You do not have an internal hormone manipulation and endocrine management system? Only administration management?"

"…those are expensive, alright? Genomic remapping is out of the question, I have no access to any of the artifacts that can potentially enable manual endocrine reorganization, I am… poor. I have what I need, but what I want is a different matter," it replied, no longer terse, but quiet. It spoke patiently, accepting of its limitations. "And what I want is not determined by the current system to be necessary for my continued function and survival."

"Ahhh, expense. The government does worry on that. Very well, let me see…" the shadow trailed off, and its arms moved, hands manipulating what the unit was certain was a number of holomonitors, or otherwise, an entire holofield comms grid. Some folks got so good at holo they made it their own, customizing it, until they were dancers in a sea of light only they could understand.

It wondered what the shadow did for work, as it tugged on a loose tanktop and marveled at the finally completed repigmenting of its skin. Coal black was much more comfortable than what had come before, and with the right modifications…

"Ahhh, marvelous. What is your stance on non-government medical personnel?" the shadow asked.

"Preferred," it replied, tying its mess of hair back and approaching its face-rack. Back in the day, people used belts and things to attach their faces, but the modern Faceless had things a bit easier. All it had to do was approach, and press the flesh and skull to the inside of its face, and the hardware set to work. Bolts tightened into its reinforced skull. Connections were secured, and its spinal hardware numbed its head meat, shut off its vestigial 'eyes,' and limited its sensory input from stock olfactory systems, as well as nervous throughput from its oral structures.

The rear shell sealed, covering the majority of its cranium, save a rectangular slot at the back that its tied mane pushed through. When it removed the tie, this fur fluffed out, filled out the slot fully - but remained, bound.

External cameras activated and calibrated, fed directly through its optic nerve interrupt right into its brain. That had been an adjustment, it was happy to admit, given that its field of view could suddenly expand far beyond biological limits - and the data, even translated, was significantly higher resolution and tracked much more smoothly than biological eyes.

Translator and limiter systems made it possible, but it was still… an adjustment.

Even so, with its face on, it once again felt… at peace.

"Very good. Then you have an appointment in three hours and seven minutes with C-DR. Evan Crenst, details available publicly. He will retrofit your systems, bring all hardware up to current bleeding edge, and provide you with an internal endocrine management system, negating the need for medfab… and I'll throw three hundred thousand coin on top, get yourself something nice installed," the shadow murmured, sounding rather… pleased with itself, for a heavily processed, androgynous sort of voice. "Is this agreeable?"

it snorted.

"Agreeable, sure. Affordable? Hardly. Like you're implying you're going to pay for it, but lady, that's insane, that kind of retro work would take… more money than, collectively, I have ever had."

"The payment has already been transferred, confirmation on your HUD in three," the shadow said, flicking its fingers and lowering its arms. A receipt flashed on the unit's AR overlay, and it blinked.

"…I haven't agreed to anything yet," it said, slowly, starting to get nervous. Faceless were generally considered an issue, by many folk… and their penchant for being heavily auged made them targets for low-retaliation corpse stripping. A call from a redline should not have been spoofable, but people found new tricks all the time…

A few rapid searches and a few taps around on the holo-monitor projected from its personal table showed that this C-DR. Crenst was…

Not just legitimate, but highly rated. Using a barrowkey, it logged into the privately maintained Faceless operated LessNet, and searched the name.

Other Faceless had work done by him - quite a lot of them, in fact. The private LessNet reviews were approximately as revealing as its searches of the general net in that they were unanimously glowing, save for a few who were merely satisfied, and one case of an accident occurring that…

Investigation had determined was not Crenst's fault or doing, through action OR negligence.

If he was a scrapper on the side, he was the most capable, spymaster-tier motherfucker on-

"You will," the shadow said, simply. "But I will humor you, unit. A crew is needed. Interstellar travel is required. The distance is… astounding, and the time it will take… significant. Eight years in Extended Purgatorium."

It stared at the shadow.

"What is the task?" it demanded.

"Dangerous… frightening. Incomprehensible, to some, the seed of madness in others. You possess the necessary qualities to not be rendered a wet, gibbering mess, before you ask why you are being approached," the shadow explained, patiently. "You do want to be an adventurer, do you not? Travel beyond the walls?"

"Ain't easy to get a license when you cant justify your certain death, no matter how eventual," it replied, bitterly. Prison wasn't the right word, nor was 'unfair' or even 'unreasonable,' but… 'frustrating' and 'fuck you' definitely applied. "I cannot leave. No one new has left in months. The government is turtling, and we do not know why."

"You will be granted an unlimited, complete license including full supply requisition and identification of potential homestead sites, and a stipend for purchase of said site, or otherwise necessary equipment and transport to any colony we know about," the shadow told it.

"Bullshit. No one can swing that."

"Swung," the shadow replied, and its City Resident profile flashed on the overlay. Its authority rank flickered, raising from D to SSS. Its travel permissions rating flickered, shifting from 'Limited Work Based' to 'Unlimited - Self Authority,' something it had only ever seen on like, logistics officers and colony ship captains. Its eyes tracked to the 'Disbursement Owed' and it noted that what previously was simply N/A had been adjusted to 'Variable - No Less Than 4 Million Coin.'

That was fucking EYE WATERING, and it didn't even have lacrimal glands anymore.

"I still haven't agreed to anything," it said, slowly, because that had all likely just cost a significant amount of money - and, covertly, it sent a message to Nancy asking her to do a few searches on it from various proxies to verify she hadn't somehow spiked its headware. "And I still don't know who you are."

"By design. Is that a requirement for hiring?" the shadow asked.

"Yes, it is. I don't work for shadows, that's how you get your ass barred from the cities, or worse, scrapped. I might want outside, but I want back in when I want, too - and I'd like to keep my fucking life and organs. I hate to be terse, I do, but this is all very suspicious," it replied, evenly. After a moment, the shadow flickered out.

"Then I want to see you," she said, her voice revealed fully, alongside the call's identification window refreshing to display pronouns she and her, and the name 'Xivisal.'

"You bear the name of the third fallen Saint-Keeper of the Angelus Remainder," it said, quietly. "Why?"

"Because a name, like a mantle, like a plank, like a talisman, can simply be given… or taken… if one wills it," she replied. "And thusly, it was willed."

"Whatever. Fine. Nancy, let her see me," it muttered, crossing its arms.

The shadow re-emerged into its AR overlay, and Vassal silently adjusted the integration system and had it rescan the floor level so her feet weren't stuck in the cement. Typically, it didn't desync like that, except for people who were-

It found itself looking down at her. Sure, Vassal itself was a halfie, touched with succubine genetics, and thusly had the benefit of significant additional scale, but she herself was very much… small.

"I didn't expect an imphound," it said, softly, peering at her fluffy ears, perked, tips just scraping five feet tall, at most. It glanced down at the scrambled blocks below her neck, obscuring fine details of her form, her garb, her everything. "You're cheating."

"Touche," she replied, and the blocks tesselated outward, clarifying her full form to reveal the legs of a hellhound, clad in belted armoring and simple cloth pants. Her torso was the same. All told, it wasn't sure why it expected her to look… more opulent, or at minimum, more complicated. "Your form… so unique, so interesting. Does that insult you?"

"Not quite, but I admit, I am not used to it," the unit replied, glancing aside. "What is my role? Dumb muscle? I don't have any distance combat packages or training, nor do I have any implant-managed neurochemical enhancement or-"

"Yes, the endocrine manager will include such chemical adaptive packages, I specified that as a requirement. Mr. Crenst is delighted, you'll be happy to know, he's having to rapidsource parts from all over the city," she interrupted. "I must say, your lack of non-exoframed images made me curious, and I am delighted to be surprised. Your mask is particularly interest-"

"Face. My FACE. It is not a mask," it said, cutting her off tersely. "I would ask you please not refer to my face as a 'mask.'"

The imphound tilted her holographic head, ears flicking, and smiled a small sort of smile. Golden eyes against the cherry red of impskin was, it had to admit, a lovely combination.

"Very well. My apologies, Dash Six. May I call you that?" she asked. It wasn't used to that. People usually didn't ask before calling it what they wanted.

"Six, or Dash, Or Vass, or Vassal," it replied. She nodded.

"Very well, Vass. My apologies. Your face is particularly interesting to me, and I daresay, quite lovely," she said, and it sighed. The politeness wasn't even a bad thing, it just didn't know how to respond. "Your task will require you to venture into a… let us call it a ruin. This network and call is hardly secure, but you will face potential death, confusion, insanity, ruin, eternal purgatorium, dismemberment, poisoning, corrosive-"

"Dangerous, got it. I gathered from the pay," it replied, sighing. "Fine. Last question, ma'am."

"Shoot," she said.

"The Extended Purgatorium stasis, what's the plan there? I've… never been in an EP pod. You hear things."

"Your consciousness will be suspended, and your body preserved using thaumic, alchemical, and temporal means. To you, it will feel like taking a nap," she told it, smiling again. "You needn't worry. They are safe, and I will be with you on board."

"In a pod?" it asked.

"In a pod," she confirmed. "You will not be able to maintain this living space. I know that is an enormous issue, but alternate payment packages can be worked out at any point, even now, if you'd prefer to return to a similar space with a sum, and so on."

Sighing, it sat down in its personal chair and shrugged.

"Doesn't matter to me, right now. This place was never my home, just where I returned to sleep between jobs. I will… miss, someone, but he will be fine without me. There are others who care deeply for him, others like me," it replied. "Just… ma'am. There's a lot, lately, a lot of shit about Faceless. I've applied to multiple colonization, mapping and exploration teams. Lot of use for someone strong and hooked up… but got no responses, or got outright denied. One of them told me he wasn't letting 'freaks' on board. Why, not me, but a Faceless in the first place? You barely even seem familiar with us."

"You are qualified, hooked up, experienced, apparently capable, remarkably competent, quick to pick up on new concepts, and highly resistant to potential mission hazards - and, if you'll forgive me this, you're so very interesting," she said, and it was still baffled by that. "…and you're polite, and discreet, but you're not trying to, pardon my coarseness, suck my asshole like I shit gold - all things I appreciate. Your nature as a Faceless is, forgive me once more, irrelevant. It is what you are. That is fine with me."

"…huh. Alright, that's… actually… fine," it murmured, inhaling a heavy dose of stimulant and nicotine vapor produced by its face and exhaling it in a light fog. "Neat. I accept."

"Then please step outside. An associate of mine will be waiting on floor three hundred, at the primary dock, in private latching 31."

"Is he going to be weird about my face, too?" it asked, tiredly.

"Negative, he's local, another recruit. Good luck, and I will welcome you on board when you wake from transfer post-op," she told it… and then, she paused, frowning. "Things may not go to plan, Vass. I want… to offer you comfort, and assuage worries if you wake to chaos. The building you are in? It's extremely secure, and prepared extremely well for what is to come. Whoever you… care about… arm him. Warn your friends something is coming, but do it quickly, and be discreet. I mean it."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am," it said, unnerved. She paused, smiling a little against the dread in her eyes. "What is it, ma'am?"

"Ma'am… the moment you were hired," she said, chuckling and turning away. "Very interesting, Vassal."

The call ended and it dismissed the AR overlay, rising and looking around. Packing the majority of its things was easy - they were already packed in its job bags. The furniture…

"Nancy, I need to request assistance from the building's logistics director - and please, if possible, ping the Faceless and ask if any have seen Zeep, have them direct him to maintenance stairwell fourteen-Jera," it said, finally, moving to the bags and kneeling, digging through them to find a wrench. While Nancy pinged the building's on duty logistics director, it rose and set to work unbolting its gear system from the wall's universal socket pattern.

It also sent a message, an emergency message, via the LessNet Barrowkey connection. They weren't supposed to use that function unless it was real, and serious, and it hoped the Captain wasn't kidding.

'All Faceless of Earth - Prepare. Something is coming. Arm yourselves. Be ready.'

They would listen. Faceless trusted Faceless, and in the city, it was known well enough to have backing. While it turned the bolts, it watched additional messages flood in, reporting suspicious behavior of building management AIs, strange machinery uncovering itself at the bases of many buildings in the Deep Dark, and a notable increase in Union robotics performing rapid, typically expensive, building repairs.

Something was coming. She told it to warn its friends.

It warned ALL of them.

"Crak here, what do you need," a strong, deep voice said, startling it from its monitoring.

"Immediate egress. Furniture must remain. Is that a problem?" it asked.

"Negative, we can handle it. You're… the Facless on 271, East Corner… alrighty. Got it. Good luck out there, Vassal Dash Six" he said, and the unit chuckled, disassembling the gear system and packing it into its padded hardcase.

"Thank you, sir."

"No problem. Disconnecting," he said, bluntly - and with a crackle of static, the voice was gone. It finished its task, and then rose, using connector straps to leash the bags together. No one paid it much mind, not there - there were lots of Faceless in the building, mixed among and with the folk whose organic faces were adequate for their needs. The walk wasn't short, but it didn't mind, and preferred to avoid the internal transit system - especially that early in the day, when folk were on their way to work.

Except, it noted…

The transit system was offline… and complaints or messages on the board for said system had been either suppressed or disabled completely.

Didn't change its plans, however - crowds bugged it, too.

Instead, it walked until it reached the third branch stairwell and used a borrowed maintenace code to slip inside. The logistics manager had long ago given up on trying to prevent the Faceless from navigating the superstructure how they needed, as it was overall more efficient and cheaper to simply let them do their thing.

In the quiet of the stairwell, it ascended, wondering what it'd be like to finally get out into the black. Would it get to feel zero gravity? Would they let it do a spacewalk? It was qualified, at least, for those things…

How would the stars look, from wherever they were going? It had images of the stars over the city on most nights, when the light pollution reduction network kicked on and the city's dynamic lighting AI activated… could it compare them? Perhaps, the labelled ones… if it could identify stars familiar, it could orient.

It was, the unit decided, marked excitement. This was its big break, its chance to go be something more than part of the Human Remainder, to push the knowledge of distant things forward… It was a chance, a powerful chance, to mean something.

This was a chance to really, magnificently be of use.

"Leaving?" a soft voice asked. It activated its peripheral camera, casting a motionless sidelong glance at Zeep.

"I am. Where is your mother, Zeep? You know she worries when you walk the maintenance corridors," it replied, wondering why the kid was so fucking quiet. He moved like a ghost, a graceful creature that was half-human and half hellhound, flicking ears and tail included. Big, luminous gold eyes rose as they climbed upwards, locking right on the side microcam as if he could literally see it.

"She is asleep. I could not. Dreams."

The unit nodded.

Dreams.

"I understand," it told him. He and his mother, Anada, were good folk - kind folk - who had gone through too damn much. The collapse of the Heartbar Reclamation effort had killed a whole lot of people, including the kid's father and older sister. "…do you fear my absence?"

He looked forward, smiling an honest smile missing a canine tooth - most of his teeth had gone earlier that year, but the canines had been slow, common in houndlikes and halfies.

"No, there are other Faceless here who will help my mother when she worries," he answered. "Faceless help lots of people."

"It is our common goal," Vass replied. "I go to the stars, Zeep. Something is coming. Your mother owns a pistol… please, when you return to her… make her get it, and then get to an emergency shelter. Please."

"They sky is your birthright," the boy replied, wearing that odd, loose grin. He was a weird kid - a good kid. "I will sometimes be hard to find, for a time… you know all my spots, the others don't."

"I… wouldn't count on that," the unit confessed. They approached the landing for three hundred, and ahead of them, the door opened. Servi Fifty-fifty stepped through, and xe and the unit gripped each other's hands firmly, initiating an ultra-secure, close range 'Classic Handshake' file transfer. "Xe has my maps."

"Curses, foiled again," Zeep mumbled, looking at the floor. "I lied a little, unit… I'm sorry… I will miss you."

Vass stared down at him, for a long moment, and then took a knee.

"May I hug you, sir?" Vassal asked.

"Yeah, that's fine," Zeep said, sounding strained. The Faceless, gently, placed its hands under his arms and lifted him up, pulled him close. "I'm sorry…"

"Shhh. It is natural to cry, when people part - but important to remember, even in the tears, that perhaps one day we will see one another again, little friend," it whispered, gently. Fifty-Fifty, politely, stepped back out. "…don't worry your mother too much, kid. She loves you a lot."

"She doesn't understand me," he spat, angrily. "I like the corridors and machines… I… I'm happy here…"

"I know, and soon, you can make it your job. For now… just promise me you will stay away from the reactor levels, stay out of the drone's ways, and not get yourself censured," the unit murmured, gently setting the boy down. In an effort to comfort him, it activated its face's display function, depicting a small dark line for a smile, and small dark dots for eyes, all on shiny black vexglass. "We may yet see one another again. I don't know if I will ever return. Right now, you're a child, my friend. Give yourself time… as annoying as it is to be told to be patient."

Scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor, Zeep muttered something.

"Speak up, sir," it said.

"I want a face just like yours!" Zeep shouted - and Vass was taken aback, startled. For all their talks as the Unit volunteered to walk him home, ensure he made it back to his mother next door, the boy kept an awful lot inside… and Vass knew it was not the one to help him get it all out. It just wasn't his place, nor was he qualified - but he tried to at least listen.

"Does your mother know?" it asked. He was fourteen. Implant consent capability could be tested as early as sixteen, and adjudged by relevant personnel.

"…I'm scared, Vassal… what if she's mad…?"

It reached out, cupping his cheek.

"Talk to Fifty-Fifty, like you would to me - and then when you get home, talk to your mother. She has a kind heart, and kinder soul. She won't hate you, or be mad, Zeep."

"A-Are you sure?"

"I am - but even should she be, this world is… safe, controlled, organized. Our kind will not leave you to suffer, even if for a time, you must endure. " it said.

"…that's not comforting, Vassal…" he muttered, and the unit chuckled.

"Of course not, but it is true. Goodbye, little friend. Follow my instructions, as a Faceless would. Get your mother, get her gun… and get to the shelter hardspace. Servi will escort you," it said, standing again - and, predictably, the boy threw himself against Fifty-Fifty's side, who patted his head gently, and gave Vass a silent nod. Xis display flickered, and depicted a smile. Vassal nodded back, and headed past them into one of the maintenance nexuses below floor three hundred. A short, almost bittersweet walk down a glowing amber line painted on its vision by the AR system later, and it emerged onto the private latchings.

Outside of the airlock, the wind whipped its clothing about and ruffled its fur, but the hotwire implants buried in the dermis of its arms compensated - not that they really had to, its insulation profile was more than adequate for that temperature. It walked through the crowds who were important enough or worked distant enough to own their own transports, and the countless people waiting for public group transports or job-group transports…

And stopped before a sleek, jet black craft that looked like absolutely nothing else present. It was, in a word, insectoid, terrible and efficient looking - and the cockpit opened, designed to seat two only. That explained why it was so small, for one - though, not so small it or its companion would not fit.

"Bags in the side compartment," the pilot said, and it nodded, bowing at the waist carefully before turning to the then open compartment and loading its bags in, only to find it did not have room for its gear hardcase. "…is there more room? My apologies for the inconvenience, there is much I can abandon."

"Calm down, fuck's sake," the pilot said, chuckling. "Step on back, viskagixa."

It blinked, recognizing the Hellish word for 'Faceless,' and did as it was told. The craft drifted away from the latching, revealing that it wasn't even using VTOL engines, but the relatively bleeding edge, difficult to acquire gravitational inversion pads - an honest to fucking goodness hovercraft.

When it drifted back, the other side compartment opened, already half-full of bags, but with plenty of room. As ordered, it stowed its case and approached the open cockpit to find a heavyset taurosi, the first one that Vass had ever seen in person. He was huge, easily taller than Vass itself, and with enough bicep and softness to literally fit half of its torso in the diameter of.

"Climb over me, unless that would be unpleasant for you. If so, I'll swing it back around - there's catch nets, below, if you're scared of falling," he huffed - his AR tag was unobfuscated, denoting his name was 'Elona.' It swallowed, trying not to stare at his… extremely generous bust that it had to climb over, and badly did not want to drop a knee into by accident and hurt him, and then said, "s-swing around, please, my apologies."

"You gotta relax," he said, chuckling - and the craft drifted off, scooting back up against the docking bumpers again, allowing it to easily step over the folded down cockpit plating and settle itself into a partially reclined seat. "You know my name, and I see yours, so… What did she tell you?"

"Everything I needed to hear," it answered honestly, as the cockpit plating folded back into place and the smooth, curved sealplate hissed as it was firmly locked. "Dangerous, extreme exploration slash deep space mystery type thing, and all my dreams come true."

"Shit, sounds too good to be true, still, eh?" he asked, pulling the ship off of the latching. The interior of the sealplate displayed sudden tesselation, its interior display activating one triangular node at a time until they both got to feel as if the 'top was down' and all that remained overhead was a quarter mile of cement and living beings.

"She said we could die, I feel like the price fits the task, as vague as that task still is," it murmured. "I apologize for any inconvenience caused in my transit."

"What do you even mean, honey?" he asked, receiving the release signal. Deftly, he worked the utterly esoteric holo-controls and they drifted out of the exit port, into open air. Vassal was forced to admit, internally, that the full-shell display was really quite amazing, as they dipped right and it set to work belting in, before they zipped along through one of the regimented airlanes, utilizing the 'rapid transit' pipeline that'd disallow them from stopping or manual control until they reached the next exit node - or the node nearest their final destination.

"I will be unconscious, likely, when I am transported to the ship. I am also very heavy," it said, simply, and he snorted, and then outright laughed.

"You have got to be the oddest one I've picked up so far. Don't sweat it, hon, you couldn't strain my muscles if you tried - berserker," he answered, settling back once the route was pinned in. "I have, however, been up a day and a half at this point. You mind if I sleep?"

"Not at all, thank you for asking," it said. He just… stared at the unit a long moment, bovine face inscrutible, then laughed quietly again and closed his eyes. Vass stared at the city flashing past, and wondered - was that planet ever its home? There was so little it would miss.

Zeep.

His mother.

The local Faceless population was wonderful, and it was going to miss having constant contact with others like it, perhaps… but the Faceless were anything but unique to Earth, at that point.

Would it miss the flora?

They were familiar, but not of much interest to it.

The Fauna?

…humanity didn't want it reclaiming their land. With a soft huff, it decided… Fine.

They could do it themselves.

#story #fiction #queer #trans #scifi #fantasy #apocalyptic #mystery #writing #creative writing #Vassal Dash Six Story #Magic #cybernetics #all that jazz

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dsrdesignsolutions · 14 days

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#3D Modeling #cad drafting services #bim modeling services #2d mechanical drawing #hvac duct layout drawing #mechanical engineering services #cad design services #mep bim services #mechanical design services #mep engineering services #engineering consulting services #clash detection services #bim service providers #shop drawings services

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siliconecuk · 8 months

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vex-bittys · 2 years

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First off thank you so much for getting back with those recommendations! They seem like they would be lovely additions to...well its essentially a bitty swarm or something at this point hahahaha. Anyways for the center its not exactly a bittyBONES center as those here are very humanoid in appearance. I call them Faelemental bitties as they look like little fairy/fae creatures and have magic of various elements much in the manner that is seen in elementals. Here is a link to check it out! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/melodysbittycenter Its always exciting when people stop by and I’m more then open to answering questions, there is even a discord! I’ll love and adoption scenario and will be bringing my miniature Chain(Apollo says hi btw) and service Lich(mythtale) bitty named Ares as well as a couple of those from my center(they really need to get out more>.>) Since its been ages I’ll even bring a nice special cake for you and Edgar, he still likes lemon cake right? And a few jars of “Firefly Berry Jam”, its a popular treat grown from magic berries I grow in the garden(with help of course). Looking forward to meeting our newest members to the swarm mwehehehehehehehehe!~ (Idk how to do emoji’s on computer>.<so just please imagine I signed off with a flower)

(If you’re on a computer that uses Windows, you do emojis by right-clicking and selecting the Emoji option at the top of the drop-down menu! 🌺)

*Edgar and Vex chow down on the delicious cake-y gifts while you make your way to the Felid bitty area on the second floor of the shop. Apollo, Ares and your other bitties are eager to meet the potential new family members. When you arrive, you discover that the Felid area is a vast land of barely controlled chaos.

*Felids seem to be dashing in every direction. There are overlapping dialogues in Japanese from various TVs playing anime (subbed not dubbed of course). Felids are tussling and racing. Some Swap Undynes are debating theoretical quantum mechanic usage in household devices. You think you spot an Alphora fashion show in one corner... Thankfully, a Russyne approaches you to help you sort out everything you see.

*You explain your large family, showing her the bitties you brought along. She’s thrilled to see them, and her friendly outgoing personality is contagious. When you tell her that you’re looking for a Russyne, Benphys, and Siamyne, she corrects you. You’ve already found a Russyne! That was easy! To make things easier, a Benphys is approaching, eager to meet your bitties. The Russyne grabs her in a headlock and noogies her. The pair wrestle playfully for a bit, making you smile.

*When the pair finish their match (”A draw, again?!”), you introduce them to your bitties. The two Felids nod very respectfully to your service bitty, Ares, and your SOULbonded Chain. You’re so busy with introductions that it takes you a moment to notice that a third Felid has approached. A Siamyne has been watching you since you arrived, and she has decided that she wants in on your very large family.

*By the time you get downstairs to fill out the paperwork, every crumb of cake is gone.

#vexy answers #melodystarflower #felid bitty adoption #felid bittybones #siamyne bitty #russyne bitty #benphys bitty

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stationerystore · 1 year

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The Stationery Store: Your One-Stop Shop for Organization and Creativity

Do you find yourself browsing through an aisle filled with pens, notebooks, and colorful sticky notes, overwhelmed by the variety of items? If so, you're not alone. Stationery stores are a treasure trove for anyone who seeks organization, productivity, or a touch of creativity in their lives. From essential office supplies to unique and exciting products, let's dive into the world of what you can buy at a stationary store.

1. Writing Essentials: At the heart of any stationery store, you'll find an extensive collection of writing essentials. From ballpoint pens and mechanical pencils to vibrant gel pens and fountain pens, these stores have a range of options to suit every writing style and preference. Writing instruments that glide smoothly across the page can transform mundane tasks into a joyful experience.

2. Notebooks and Paper Products: Notebooks are an essential item for any student or professional. Stationery stores offer an array of notebooks, including ruled, grid, dotted, and plain pages to meet different writing needs. The selection is not limited to just notebooks – you can find various paper products such as index cards, sticky notes, memo pads, and specialty papers for drawing or calligraphy.

3. Organizational Tools: If you are someone who loves staying organized, a stationery store has you covered. Stock up on folders, file organizers, binders, and dividers to keep your documents in order. Sticky tabs and highlighters are perfect for marking important sections in textbooks or work materials. Planners and calendars are also readily available, helping you stay on top of your schedule and tasks.

4. Novelty Items: Stationery stores are known for their unique and captivating novelty items. Explore the world of cute paper clips, colorful erasers, and whimsical stickers. These items not only add personality to your workspace but can also serve as delightful gifts for friends and colleagues. You may also find items like washi tape, a decorative adhesive tape that can be used for various crafts and projects.

5. Craft Supplies: For those with a creative streak, stationary stores have an assortment of craft supplies to satisfy your artistic endeavors. Look for sketchbooks, acrylic paints, paintbrushes, calligraphy sets, and colored pencils. Add a pop of color and creativity to cards, scrapbooks, or DIY projects with embellishments like glitter, rhinestones, and ribbon.

6. Functional Gadgets: In today's tech-driven world, stationery stores cater to both traditional and tech-savvy individuals. You can find USB drives, laptop sleeves, stylish desk organizers, and wireless chargers that seamlessly blend functionality with aesthetics. These gadgets elevate your workspace while keeping your devices safe and organized.

7. Printing and Binding Services: Apart from offering a wide range of products, some stationery stores offer printing and binding services. From professional documents to personal projects, you can get quality prints and neatly bound reports or presentations. Take advantage of these services when you need a polished touch to your work.

In conclusion, the stationery store is a haven for the organization-obsessed, the creatively inclined, and anyone who appreciates the pleasure of putting pen to paper. With an abundance of writing essentials, organizational tools, novelty items, craft supplies, functional gadgets, and printing services, you'll discover endless possibilities to inspire productivity and creativity. So next time you step into a stationery store, prepare to embark on an exciting journey of self-expression and organization!

youtube

#sticky notes #washi tape #muji pens

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writeranon69 · 2 years

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What are your personal headcannons for the Omori cast’s future professions?

Uhuhu boy, this question. I have a wide variety of headcanons for the gang's jobs in the future. Let's see here

Sunny: A writer and an assistant of Basil in his greenhouse. Sunny writes novels about his life four years ago, and how he blossomed into who he is today. Basil, Aubrey, and Mincy help him with this sometimes.

Basil: Definitely one to own a greenhouse or a flower shop, both being called "Basil's Home for Plants". I can see it being rather successful as Basil treats his plants with love and care. I also see Basil telling his stories to any loyal customers he trusts.

Aubrey: She'd be a mechanic for some, but to me, she's probably a professional baseball player, MVP of the Faraway Team no doubt. Whenever she's off season though, she's busy helping her SunBun with his writing, her Flowerboy with his gardening, and her Paintsplash with her artistry. Speaking of which...

Mincy: Mincy's apart of the main cast in the future! She'd obvious take a career as an artist, doing commissions online here and there. If she's not drawing, she's blogging about her life, with Basil teaching her some of his photography skills in order to make better posts. She also helps with writing and gardening, and is a surprisingly good cook.

Cris: You can't have Mincy without Cris by her side, now can you? Cris is an Olympic swimmer, due to her love of all things aquatic. She'd also be good at leading tours around aquariums methinks. She calls everyone a lot whenever she isn't home, even if it's just for a few hours.

Kel: Kel is easily on a professional basketball team with Jay. This sadly causes him to be away from home a lot, but when he is home, it's a party at that point. He still gets in arguments and play fights with Aubrey, even in adulthood, but it's all in good fun. Sunny actually writes about Kel the most in his stories.

Henry/Hero: Hero, for a reason about to be explained, becomes a cook/nurse in the future. At Faraway Hospital, he works as both a chef and a nurse who can make delectable meals for patients and deliver them when his nurse shift takes place. Not only does he use his medical degree, but he's gotten back into his old hobby! This is thanks to, you're not gonna believe this,

Mari: Yeah! Mari's revived in this AU. Donning a white gown and a nurse's hat, she's Hero's assistant, helping him prepare food and helping caring for patients. When she's not on her shift, she's busy hanging out with her little brother at home, who she does not leave until her shift begins.

Kim: Kim is also apart of Aubrey's baseball team, fun fact. She's the pitcher, but is also able to hit lots of rough hits to the ball. If she's not doing that, she's actually wrestling...no joke, this woman is in the (insert Faraway Equivalent of the WWE here) and is kicking everyone's asses. She's real sweet though.

Angel: Angel is following Kel to become a basketball player like him. He also has a hobby for artistry thanks to his older sister, who he has rekindled his relationship with.

Charlene: Charlene is a worker at Basil's greenhouse! She tends to plants and here and there and handles microtransactions in the store. She's a bit more social now because of this.

Mikhael: Mikhael, better known as the Maverick, I see him being a baker with his siblings, Daphne and Bowen. They're all rather goofy together, but Mikhael also branches off into his own hobbies, those being animation (specifically anime) and game design.

Vance: Probably the least expected profession for Vance would be taking over Miss Candice's candy shop when she enters retirement. He manages it well, but also runs a little babysitting service, which falls under the times to close the candy shop. He always gets lots of candy for the kids he takes care of if they behave.

I'd say that does it.

Other fun facts:

Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, Mincy, Cris, Kel, and Kim are all in polyamourus relationship! They all live together in one house in Faraway.

Mari and Hero own a house together next door, but they end up visiting everyone so often that you can say that they live there too.

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

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2023: Eddie Munson- Episode 6 The Life

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC!Lilly Miller

Pov: Eddie Munson

Warnings: 2023, More past events being brought up, working a real job, good life vibes, nosey Robin and Steve, fluff, drinking, making out, douches in public.

Summary- Eddie gets a job at the local mechanic shop. He moves in further with Lilly. Furthering their growing relationship. Steve and Robin take a chance to bother him at work.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 7.0k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List // 2023 Series Master List

Was Eddie just that classic of a person? He grabbed the local newspaper as it sat in the mailbox. Walking back into the trailer with a stack of envelopes and the newspaper cupped in his armpit. “Lilly, do they still have a help wanted section in the newspaper?” I yelled into the trailer air. Lilly wasn’t in the living room, or in the kitchen so he assumed she was in the back. A place he didn’t venture to often. Unwilling to venture so far, almost like going back into the past. “Wouldn’t know Eds, I don’t read the newspaper!”

With a shuffle and a shut of the front door, I gathered myself at the kitchen table. “Hey, where are the pens and highlighters?” I yelled back to Lilly. If you could hear the roll of her eyes you’d laugh just like I did, “Right draw, underneath the tv stand.” I dug through the drawer, looking for that bright yellow highlighter, and pen that I used to despise during school. I sit my ass back down at the kitchen table, the newspaper is opened down the center. I look, waiting for something that connects, but I doubt it easy as that.

An hour passes and Lilly has come back out from the back of the trailer, I hear her footsteps and when she stops it’s only because she’s peering over my shoulder. Almost glaring at the paper that sits in front of me. There are pen and highlight marks. Some highlight marks are drawn through with pens. I had called the numbers most being disconnected. “Are you looking for a job?” Lilly asks me from over my shoulder, I shrug my shoulders, “You know you don’t have to Eddie?” As if I could sit, and do nothing while she did everything.

Another hour passes. The black and white paper now looks like a very bad version of a crossword puzzle. Little boxes, filled with little descriptions of the job for which you are calling. It has me rolling my eyes more than I think I ever did when I was a teenager. Lilly had already made a batch of cookies and cleaned up the kitchen once before returning to make lunch. She had set the plate down on the side of the newspaper. “Have you found anything?” She asked her voice hopeful. I shook my head, looking down at the sandwich.

It was the only time I had stopped in nearly three hours of working through the newspaper. The help wanted section was larger than I thought it would be considering it was the twenty-first century like Lilly said. Done by sections of jobs it wasn’t confusing to figure out that it was filled with lots of Service jobs. Pet care, lawn services, and other things that I had no interest in doing. But really I had no interest in getting a job, but here I was looking through the help wanted section. “They might have postings in town?” Lilly muttered.

I turned my head over my shoulder. Looking towards Lilly as she sat in front of the TV, and a book in her hand. “How’s the multi-tasking going for ya?” Throwing sarcasm to the wind. She rolled her eyes but smiled at me. “What do you mean they might have a job posting in town?” I asked, seriously wondering what she was talking about. “Do you remember the diner?” I shake my head, “They’ve had one for a while now.” I tried to think, I had seen a little sign that hung on the door. I thought for a moment.

“Can we go into town and check them out?” I asked. She shrugged her shoulders and got up. “Let’s go it’s early enough in the afternoon.” I grabbed my shoes and tumbled out of the door with Lilly in front of me. I slide into the passenger side seat and waited for Lilly to lock the front door, and get in beside me. The drive to town is shorter than I remember it being. Music playing softly in the background. Lilly drives to a few places. The library, Melvalds, finally the mechanics. The posting is sitting in the window, waiting.

I smile at the window, and smile back at Lilly. “I think I’ll check this one out, okay?” She nods her head, grabbed her pocketbook, and waved her book at me as I slammed the passenger door. I walked with confidence into the main part of the auto shop. An older gentleman looked at me through his glasses. “What are you here for son?” I swallowed, “A job hopefully.” I countered, he shook his head, looking me up and down. “Do you know anything about cars, son?” I shook my head. “How old are ya son?” “twenty-two Sir.” “Good enough.”

“You can start next week, I would wear something less nice.” I shook my head with a smile, “Anything else sir?” I ask with a grin. “Working time starts are eight in the morning, be here on time.” With that, the old man was shooing me away. I walked with a swagger and more confidence than previously. I stood there for a moment, watching Lilly through the windshield. Her head in a book, hair cascading down her face, brows furrowed down. ‘She’s beautiful more than she knows.’ I think. I interrupt Lilly’s reading, “I got the job.” She smiles brightly.

“That’s great Eddie!” She drops her book on the middle console and wraps me in a huge hug. Her breasts are against my chest and her hair is tickling my skin, but I sink into it. Letting myself be in the moment, the hug lasted longer than normal. Like she doesn’t want to let go. We sit like this in front of the auto mechanics shop. Holding each other. “We should probably get going,” I say even though I don’t want the words to come out. She let’s go and starts the car back up. “Anywhere else you wanna go?”

Once again the drive is quick, and the music plays softly in the background. But this time it’s different. Lilly turns down the radio and starts up a small conversation with me. Asking me about me. “So he just accepted you right then and there with no resume?” She asks, I nod. I hadn’t thought about that fact. “I never had a resume before, and he asked me how old I was, and said that was good enough for him,” I answer. There’s silence and then another question. “What would have been on your resume if you got the chance?”

I stop fiddling with the hem of my shirt and look over at her. She’s got a look of curiosity. Sometimes curiosity can kill the cat. “Nothing,” I answer frankly and quickly. The conversation is going in a direction that’s too clouded to understand. “What do you mean nothing?” She asks quicker than I’m ready for. “I… I never really graduated high school so that nothing would be on my resume.” I sat matter of factly. The words are hard for me to say, and even harder I suspect for Lilly to hear. “So no high school diploma.” “I wish.”

The banter ends there and then we are parking in front of the trailer. It’s mid September, and the weather is changing quickly. From summer clothes to jeans and thicker jackets. I pull my arms together having forgotten to grab one on the way out earlier. Lilly is quick to get the door unlocking and usher me in. “It’s getting to be dinner time, do you want me to make something?” She asks, I hum and settle onto the couch. A job packed away, but now it had to wait for a whole week. “Pasta sound good Eds.” She yells.

I yell back a yes and then flick through the tv, it’s nothing but old movies and horrible commercials. “Almost done, plate or bowl?” She shouts from the kitchen. I smile at our banter, and how normal it all is. Even though nothing about anything is normal in Hawkins. “Bowl!” I scream back, Lilly groans. A few more moments she’s carrying a bowl and a plate filled with food, and two cans of pop under her arms. “Take the pop from under my arms.” I grab both. She sits but isn’t quiet for long. “Would you go back to school?”

“Back to school?” My eyes widen as I blow on a few strings of pasta wrapped around my fork. “I mean not like high school, but maybe online schooling. Like getting your GED. Just so you know you have that accomplishment.” She’s muttering now, ranting on about grades, and degrees. “I think it would be nice to feel like I finally graduated,” I say as I shove a mouthful in. “Why don’t we look at some GED classes for you in general for you to take.” Lilly suggests, I nod along with her, “Sure why not. I’m paying for them though.”

Lilly smiles and takes my hand, forcing me to slow my heartbeat down. “It’s okay if people want to take care of your Eds, you just have to be honest with them and let them take care of you,” Lilly mutters as she softly caresses her thumb over the top of my hand. I crack a smile, and Lilly follows behind with one. “Now why don’t we watch something you might like yeah.” She grabs the remote, switching between channels and finally getting Indian Jones. “Nice pick Lils, if I do say so myself.” “Oh shove it, and eat.”

That night, after dinner and a great movie Lilly grabs her laptop and brings it back to the living room passing me in the kitchen while I’m cleaning the last of the dishes and the leftover food on the countertop. When I come back to the living space, her legs are crisscrossed, and her laptop sits on her lap. “Whatcha doing, Lilly?” I ask her, intrigued by the look on her face. Pensive and searching for something. “Searching for classes for you to take in less than four months.” I sit down next to her. “Whatever you wanna do Lilly.”

It takes a minute, her fingers click quickly on the keyboard on her laptop, and then finally there’s a successful sigh of content. “Hell yeah, I’ve found the perfect website for this.” She turns and looks over at me. I’m only ninety percent sure that she’s looking at me like I’m an idiot. A goofy smile hangs on my face. She’s always so damn perfect it’s almost impossible. “So the website said that you need to have taken at least a few classes your senior year, did you?” Lilly is waiting for my answer, but it seems to be stuck.

“Eddie?” She says that a few moments of silence have passed. “I guess i should tell you this right?” Lilly hums, but her face is full of wonder. “I didn’t graduate high school the first time, or the second time, when all the falling through your ceiling shit happened I was in my third times a charm routine of my senior year. It all sort of ended. I think I had two classes left.” I confess to Lilly. She stares at me for only a moment. There’s no judgment, no wrongful stare that bores into my chest and burns there.

“Alright.” Is all Lilly dares to say before returning her attention to her screen for a few seconds. She clicks away on her laptop and makes no effort to tell me what exactly she’s doing. “Where’d you go to high school, Eddie?” She squeaks out. “Hawkins High?” My words out like a question. She nods, and then turns, “So they should have your records right?” She asks me like I know. I shrug, “I can go check, but seeing as things are more digital they might not have them.” Lilly nods and returns to the screen in front of her.

Something in me continues with the previous conversation. “You know I got into the wrong crowd,” I muttered, mostly to myself but still I feel her gaze on me, and the clicks on her laptop stopped. I can’t look at her right now, so the floor becomes more interesting. “I… um had a hard time. Teachers weren’t helpful rather than supporting me they made it their life mission to fuck up everything for me. 1984 was supposed to be my original year, then it turned into 1985 and that didn’t work, ‘86 was all I really had left to win.”

The air isn’t hard between the two of us, but I can still feel her eyes on me. Finally, Lilly rests her hand on my knee. “I’m sorry Eddie… I’m sorry that nobody supported you as they should have… I can only jope that this time around you have enough support to make it all worth it in the end.” Lilly says gently rubbing my knee. I finally look up at her, her smile in small but beautiful regardless. “Thanks, Lils.” The nickname coming out. Her smile only grows afterward, for the rest of the night, we talk about classes.

Dates in this small town are hard and not only is there not much to do in this small town, but people are just as funky as they were in the late 80s. I mentioned to Lilly after breakfast a few days after I got my job, that maybe we could go visit a few other places in town before I started my job at the auto body shop. With September coming to an end I mentioned one date to Lilly which she took me up almost automatically. Over a cup of coffee “Do you maybe wanna go garage picking?”

She looked over her laptop screen, it wasn’t too late in the morning. An early Saturday morning, sunny and warm outside. “How’d you know that I like to go picking?” Lilly smiled, her eyes were all I could see but I growing to love it. “I just took a wild guess,” I muttered before bringing the hot cup of coffee to my lips. That morning we packed up and got into her car, driving it around. Looking for a morning garage sale, “Why don’t we check out rich area?” Lilly questions as she drives. I look over, “Of course Lils.”

It takes a moment to get there, but we got over there. The streets are lined, and it’s not really about the thing of buying anything. It was about looking through the rich people’s shit, Lilly’s words, not mine. As we parked on the side of the road we walked up the path toward Harrington’s house. Stopping at each house until Lilly found something that caught her eye. Hand taking mine and dragging me towards the driveway, “Clothes Eds! Clothes!” She giggles dragging me close and close up the driveway. A clothing rake that holds all the rich clothing types.

“Holy shit is that Louis Vuitton?” Lilly shrieks as she drops my hand and ran the rest of the way. Her hands brush over the fabric, and the looks are normal, especially from the rich people in the neighborhood. Then there’s a scream from over yonder closer to the road. “Munson!!” My eyes go wide, and panic hits my whole body. ‘Run.’ ‘Run.’ Is all that goes through my head, until I hear the groaning, “Robs stop that!” It’s just Harrington and Buckley. I smile, as I look over at Lilly she’s deep into the rake. “I’ll be fine Eds.”

I walk over and Robin is smiling wide like she hasn’t seen me in a very long time. Steve looks like shit and very tired. In arms wide Robin squeezes me into a hug. I hug her back and even though my lungs are asking for more air I can’t bare to let go of Robin, and neither can Robin. We stay like this until Steve comes over and removes Robin from me. “Why don’t you come over for dinner and drink Eddie,” Steve says, an invitation for drinks makes me warm up and the beating in my heart passes.

I nod, and then Lilly is racing over with a bag and a few clothes shoves into it. “Did you buy those?” Robin asks, Lilly smiles and starts to go on about these clothes that she bought and how old and vintage they’re gonna look. “And I only spent like twenty bucks for everything including the bag, the lady was a little old to be thinking about numbers this early in the morning.” Lilly rambles on, I look over at her and my heart burns at how much I’m falling for this girl standing next to me. “Dinner next week?”

“We’d love to,” Lilly answers for me, taking my hand and saying goodbye before walking us back to the car. “Is this all the shopping you wanted to do Lils?” I ask. She hums and hugs her bag that’s overfilled with clothes. I drive us home, the day is already halfway done, and my stomach burns from hunger. “How about some food when we go home?” It’s the first time I’ve called it home, and the look that Lilly gives me nearly makes me hard press the bracks. “Yeah let’s go home for lunch Eds.” She just takes my hand.

The older man at the autobody shop called the following Monday. My phone rang and for the first few seconds, it freaked me out that my ass was vibrating. I dug my hand into my back pocket and saw that the caller id was from the auto body shop. I took a breath and swipe over the answer call button. “I don’t need ya for another week okay.” I breathe a sigh of excitement and with October so close I ask Lilly about another date. This time I don’t get the chance to offer a second date, Lilly does instead.

She’s heading my way. My feet are are on resting on the coffee table. “Do you wann go for a uh second date?” She asks her teeth grabbihng at her bottom lip. I smile. The thought that the old man at the auto body shop didn’t need me for another week was good, it meant more time i could spend with Lilly. Not that I hadn’t already spent a shit ton of time with her already. “Of course” I said moving my sock cladded feet off of the coffe table. It’s not hard to notice the smile on her face.

Rosey cheek, and red hot ear tips are the first thing I notice whenever she smiiles around me. It’s not always because I’ve said something to her, sometimes it’s simply because she catches me looking at her from afar, or across the kitchen table as she works. With Lilly having already done so much for me since I guess you could say transicted to the new way of life it. She moves to sit down next to me. Her sweatpants are soft agssint my legs as I try to gather my thoughts. “I was thinking so close to october we could see if they have pumpkins out?” Lilly isn’t timid or shy about anything else in her way of life, so why would she be about asking me out. “I was thinking something along those lines as well.” I offer to lighten the air between us. “So it’s a date?” She asks. She fidgeting with her nails. Red adorned them as they shine under the lights of the living space. “It can be a date if you want it to be.” I say grabbing one of her hands. It’s sweaty but that doens’t bother me, and it doesn’t bother her.

“We can go in a few days… Do you want some lunch Lils.” I say dropping her hand gently onto ther knee and getting up. “I can…we can make something.” Lilly offers, “Whatever you want to do sweetheart.” I reach a hand out offer it to her, and she takes it with ease. We both walk to the kitchen hand in hand, not saying anything. But words aren’t really needed right now, the silence keeps up as we enter the kitchen. She pulls a few things out and I follow along behind her. That afternoon we make breakfast for dinner.

It isn’t until a few days later does another person call me. Steve? I answer with a simply ‘hello’. “Hey remember I said something about coming over, and brining your girl with you for dinner and drinks?” He asks, I recall the memory, with a simple hum. “So when do you think you’d want to come over?” I think for a moment and drag myself over to the calendar. Mostly everything is written on it. The day my classes start, and my new first work day along with a few other things. “Say this Wednesday Steve.” “Sure good for me”

Lilly and I take yet another venture out towards the Hawkins town. This time in search for pumpkins. Lilly had taken her time getting ready after work. Normally she doens’t so much besides put her hair up in a loose bun, and wears casual clothes during work. This time after her online work was done, she yelled from her bedroom which I still was hesitant to go into. “I’m gonna take a shower before we head out okay Eds.” Then she was standing infront of her door. Only wearing her towel that was wrapped around her body. My heart stopped.

“Eds? Did you hear me?” “hmm” “Did you hear was I said, or not?” She asks in a mood of wanting to get on with the things she had planned. “YEah I heard ya, takin’ a shower before we head out for pumpkins Lilly.” I mutter mostly to myself, and my voice cracking on the way. I’m still staring at the spot she was standing. The water turning on alreting me that she had long since left the hallway. I could see her whole body frame, even from the hallway to the living room. I shifted on the couch uncomfortably.

Would it be so bad, that I felt the way I did at this moment. Her naked body had been only covered by the thin material of a shower towel. Nothing else beside socks she had forgotten to take off while she was in her room, getting undressed. Nobody to watch her as she unclasped her bra and threw it across the room. Or how her panties probably slide down her thighs with grace. My mind was going places it shouldn’t and my pants were growing more and more tight the longer I thought about her showering, and all alone.

My bit my lower lip. Normally she took long shower, and in the morning I always could hear the water turn on and then off twenty minutes later. I hadn’t jerked off to anything, the magazine I had underneath by bed weren’t in the boxes. If they had been it probably wouldn’t have opened anyways. I tired to think of sad things like that stupid animal commercial that wanted you to donate to them, or the feeling I felt in the black upside down that made me travel here to this time. But nothing worked, so I let it win.

My hands travel on their own as they reach for my belt. It snaps undone, and the sound sort of echcos in the empty-ish trailer. I’m more cautionish of my breathing, and I take smaller breathe. My hand grazes over the tip of my cock and my breathe stops in my thoart. No matter how hard i try to slow my heart rate down I can’t manage to. Everything is hot, my long sleeve that I am wearing is now tucked under my chin. Out of my way. The zipper is the next loud feat I have to get over.

Louder then ever before I take my time, and gather the breathe I can before ripping the zipper down the rest of the line. My cock sits hard agasint my tight boxers. Wettness hits the side of my plam and I know I don’t have that long. Not after contemplating weather or not I was going to do this in the first place. Through my bit lower lip a sigh of contentment rolls off my tongue. “Fuck” I pull my jeans down just enough and use the space I now have to pull my swollen cock out of my boxer.

Angry red, and hot to the touch I rub just the tip using my pre-cum as a lubricant. My hand falls down my shaft and the bit I have on my lip only gets harder. My eyes close and my mouth opens. Everything around me is Lilly. Her smell is all over the place, and I can’t get over it. My heart is beating in my chest, and the vision start behind my eyes. The darkness fills up with imagis of Lilly. It feels wrong, I know its wrong. I can’t help it through. My hand keeps a good pace.

A few imagines past through my eyes. One of Lilly laying naked over the couch her ass high in the air, and my hand quickens. Another had Lilly with her legs wrapped around the pillow I use each night to rest and close my eyes. Lilly and her breathy moans that fill my head as she whimpers from the hard thrusting she’s causing her clit agasint my pillow. It’s all a thought in my head. My hand goes even faster, and I feel the orgasms growing faster by the second. I can hear the water shut off, my heart beats.

I don’t think of anything, rather I think of her face. Between my thighs her hair pulled into my hand and everything is going perfectly. Her tongue in my head in out waiting for the cum that will fall agasint her face. My body stiffens and everything stops right then and there. Sounds around my stop and my eyes close tight. Seeing white is only the start of it. “Fuck…” I mutter to myself. My lower stomach is covered with my sticky cum, and I drop my black long sleeve. Shifting myself back into my boxers, and my pants back.

By the time Lilly comes out the bathroom my cheeks are hot and still red, but my hands are washed and I’m back on the couch like she’s none the wiser. “Eddie you okay? I heard you when I got out of the shower?” I swallow hard, and swipe a hand through my hair. “Yeah I’m all good had a rock stuck in my shoe.” I say trying to convince her. “Oh sure. I'll be ready in like ten minutes.” She says swaying her hips as she walks back towards the back bedroom. I lick my lips and sigh heavily.

Lilly is right she’s out before her magical ten minutes are up. My heart is still racing, “Are you ready Eddie?” She asks she as exist her bedroom. She’s beautiful it makes me fall back down onto the couch. A tan tank top with a sweater adoring it, a black skirt with tights underneath and a pair of brown boots. She rushes over, “Eddie? Are you alright?” She asks, concern etched on her beautiful face. She’s not wearing any makeup “Yeah I’m fine just lost my balance is all Lils. Let’s go before someone steals the good pumpkins.” She giggles.

Helping me up from the floor and even to the door. She grabs her purse from the kitchen table and locks the door behind her. I feel so underdressed, my own black jeans that have no holes in them a comfy sweater that used to be Uncle Wayne I had found in the box of stuff from Steve and Dustin. The air blows a little to harsh through the windows of Lillys sedan. The drive is longer then normal. Since the pumpkin farm isn’t far from the Hawkins town line. “Parking is looking to be good.” Lilly mutters to herself.

The next few hours are spent looking for two good pumpkins, and grabbing some photos. Lilly is so interested in the sun set and I don’t mind being her focal point in most of her pictures. At one point she hands me her phone. “Can you just snap a few pictures of me, right over there.” Lilly is pointing at a open landscape and the sunset that is right behind it. I smile and grab her phone, snapping a few pictures. I notice a guy no older then me walk up to Lilly as she checking something out. I burn.

I hear his stupid grainny voice even from afar. ‘Hey babe, I can help you with that umm huge pumpkin you got there.’ Good to know that the flirting of Hawkin guys hasn’t gotten any fucking better. I stand and watch, waiting for Lilly to respond but she doesn’t. She just flat out ignores him, it only upsets that guy. “Hey listen to me, I was just offering to be nice to ya no need for you to be a bitch.” My teeth grind, as my feet drag me over to Lilly. “Is this guy bothering you at all baby.”

The guy rolls his eyes dramatically, “You can’t actually make me believe that you’re dating this guy.” Wow, I slip my hand around her wasit and pull her into me. Great to know that I’m still on jocks shit lists. “I don’t know about you baby, but I think we should be heading out before I get into trouble.” Lilly says loud and clear for everyone to hear. People are looking, but not at Lilly and I but at the guy who’s inching further and further away. “Whatever you bitch.” He mutters under his breath. “I’m sorry for that Eddie.”

She put her hand over mine and I think for a moment that’ she’s going to move it away. “Thank you for that, eds.” She says sweetly as she rests her head on my chest. We stand there for a moment until someone kids passes us and screams ‘ewwww’. I roll my eyes and grab the bigger pumpkin off the ground. Lilly walks in stride with me towards the check out and when we make it to the car she’s pops the trunk so we don’t have rolling pumpkins in the backseat. “Eddie I want to give you something, please.”

I close the trunk and slide into the passenger seat. As Lilly and I sit there, She digs in her purse, “what’ are you looking for?” I ask intrpeuptting the silence that’s growing around us. She licks her lips before looking over at me, “I want to give you something important, just let me find it.” It doesn’t take her long to find whatever she’s looking for. The triumptant sound she makes is signal to that. “Close your eyes and hands out.” Lilly tells me, I follow. Then I feel a cold piece of metal hit my palm. “Open now.”

When I open my eyes and look down there’s one metal key in my hand. My face must say alot because Lilly looks down at it then at me. “It’s a house key, eddie.” I nod like she’s going to continue talking. “A house key, to who’s house Lils?” I ask which makes her laugh. She rolls her eyes, “To my house, well I guess since I’m giving you a key it’s really our house or trailer whatever you wanna call it.” I smile as she mutters along. I reach over and hug her even though we’re in the car.

That night when we get home I unlock the front door as Lilly carries her pumpkin in and then I grab mine. That night the kitchen floor is made a mess with pumpkins guts and sharp instruments to pierce the pumpkins flesh. That night we giggle and laugh at everything that we can think of, smoke a joint that smells of fall and pumpkins spice. “Do you remember when harrington said dinner was supposed to be?” she asked me as I was lighting candles and placed into the pumpkins. “Yeah Harrington called said Wednesday I think is that okay Lils?”

I was right when wednesday came around I got a text messages from Steve, giving his address and what time and if we wanted to bring something with us we totally could. In his text he said that dinner was around seven thirty which was great. “Lils!” I screamed from across the house. “Dinner at Steve around seven thirty.” “Kay!’ She screamed back. I grabbed some stuff and took a quick shower before getting dressed and putting my hair up into a loose bun. Lilly was waiting for me in the kitchen, “I’ll be quick I promise Eds,” She said.

The drive over was quick as I started to memorize the path and lights that were placed. Lilly hair was in a wet bun, a little bit of makeup adorned her features. Rosey cheeks and long lashes that were hiding her beautiful brown eyes. This would be the last day before I started my job and classes, so tonight I would spend relaxing and getting just a little tipsy. Whatever Harrington and Buckley had mind had to be good. We rolled into the drive way and out came Robin. A huge smile on her face, “Are you ready?” I asked.

Lilly fit right in with the group of us. Lilly was helping with Robin in the kitchen as Steve drags me out the grill. The sun in setting and even though the cold air somehow manages to get into my shirt I stand with Steve. “So how’s everything going between you and what’s her name?” Steve asks as he switches the meat on the grill. “Lilly, and I are doing great. She’s completely different maybe it is the decades, but some people in Hawkins are still dicks.” Steve rolls his eyes, “Some people don’t change Eddie, and you know that.”

As we come back through the sliding glass doors I can hear the giggles of Robin and Lilly. “I haven’t heard Robin laugh like that in years.” Steve comments, “What are to laughing about?” Steve asks as we enter the kitchen. The smell of potatoes and pasta salad hit me, “Nothing dingus, just talking about the past.” Robin responds as she takes the plate and sets up four plate. Dinner is fantastic, and I wonder for a moment if this was possible before hand, before the upside down. Lilly rests her hand on my thigh for the entirety of dinner.

I smile over at her as robin and Steve get up gathering dishes up from the dinner table. I offer to help but Robin is quick to hand us to plates of apple pie “Shove it in your mouth before you start talking again Munson.” Lilly laughs, “Is she is the only one who can talk to you like that?” I think about it for a moment, “Probably, my uncle wayne could always get me with a simple ‘boy’. She giggles as she scoops a spoonful of ice cream and apple pie into her mouth. “Drinks in the living room?”

Lilly nods and gathers herself and her plate to walk towards the living room, I on the hand watch as Lilly looks like she’s right in place between an old bickering couple. She turns and looks for me, I nod grabbing my own plate. “Okay so I had a few ideas for how today would go. When was the last time you played a drinking game?” Robin asks, I can hear the roll of Steve eyes, “We’re too old… “ “If you dare finish that sentence I will punch you so hard you won’t know what happened.” Robins threats are loose.

“Okay.” Steve hands come up in fake defense, as he sips are his beer. “Are you down for a few drinking games.” Lilly asks me, her legs crossed on the floor as I sit behind her on the couch. I nod and she smiles up at me, her face glows in the side table lamps. One game passes of truth or dare. A second game of never have I ever passes with laughs and screams. The one that makes me the most buzzed is spin the bottle. Which you’d think wouldn’t be fun for Steve or Robin, but they’re mischievous.

The rules are sketchy, and with the look that Robins got on her face like she’s trying to pin Lilly and I together I can only aiminge how many times the bottle doesn’t really land on me or Lilly. I’m not sure how I ended up on the floor sitting beside Lilly. All I can feel is her tights pressing into my jeans. The bottle spins and for the first time it lands on Lilly and without a single word Lilly shifts into my lap. Dropping her bottle on to the floor where it leaks liquid onto the shag carpet.

Her hips sit perfectly in my lap, her legs on either side of mine. My knees supporting her back as she rests in my lap with a dopey smile on her face. She’s warm to the touch, but as the game comes to a stop, and the drinks get picked up she doens’t dare to look at anyone besides me. Her eyes flicker back and forther between my eyes and lips. “Eddie?” She whispers, breathe strong with beer. “Yeah.” I whisper back, her eyes haze over as she leans in. “Can I kiss you?” She asks I nod, ‘Fucking finally.’

Her lips are plush agasint mine, and for the past few month all I’ve thought about is this moment. The moment where I could kiss her, hold her in my lap. Her skirt is riding up over her thick thighs and my hands rest on her hips. I rock her once and she moans into the kiss. “Eddie” She whines, I have for a second forget where we are, but then she rolls into my hips. “Lilly” I warn her, I continue to kiss her, dropping my lips from her and reaching her open neck. “We should get going sweetheart.”

She whines again and rolls once more into my hips. I bit down my lower lip, Lilly moves and her mouth reaches my ear. “Do you wanna know a secret?” She asks her voice no louder then a whisper. It sends shivers down my spine. “I heard you.” My hand squeeze at her hips. “You heard what sweetheart?” I question her, “You. While I was in the bathroom getting ready a few days ago. My heart stops, my breathing stop and I try to move my hand, but she whines. “Don’t Eds, I like it, but could you hear me?”

My eyes go wide, I shake my head and I can feel her smile against my skin. “Well at least we are far now.” Lilly whispers against my ear and then she gets up from my lap. Reaching out a hand to help me get up. “Don’t worry about it baby, it will be our little secret.” She murmurs as she sits down on the couch. I stand there, and then retreat to the bathroom for a moment. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ I think to myself but then I heard giggles.

My first day work is clouded with thoughts of how Lilly felt up against me, and how her words made my dick harder then a rock in my black jeans. The old man at this place had given me a few jobs to work on my first day. I get a text message halfway through the day from Lilly. “I miss you it’s so boring being alone.” It’s as if she doens’t remember, so I don’t say anything about it. Steve sends me a message, “Did you get lucky last night?” Classic jock I think “No I’m a gentlemen remember.”

“Sure whatever you say.” Steve texts back and I get back to work The rest of the day I yearn to go back to the trailer and see Lilly. Grease and dirt is smeared across my face and hands, Lilly had driven in to work this morning and would for the next few weeks. A coffee cup sat ready for me when I came out that morning filled to the brim. The next day was completely different. Clients were walking through the auto body shop doors, then Steve and Robin were standing there. “What’s up guys?” I said looking up.

“We just wanted to check up on you? You know cause a few days ago you got assaulted in out living room!” Robin said a little to loud, my eyes went wide, and a finger over my mouth telling her to shut up. “Stop it you’ll embrass the poor boy.” Steve chuckled, I bit my tongue and rolled my eyes. “If that’s all you two came here to talk about then GO HOME.” I said reaching back under the hood of a car. “Oh come on Eddie, we really did try to…” Robin muttered, “Robin don’t even start with that match maker shit with me. Just let MY realtionship go, and don’t go sticking your nose into it.” I muttered under my breath, “Eddie. Please that’s just Robin, there’s not making her stop once she’s got it in her sights. You might has well just deal with it for now.” Steve said with another chuckle. “But do I actually have a question for ya.” I arched a brow, “The car is making this random noise whenever we start her up.” Steve says nodding off to his car. My mouth opens, it’s the same car from 1986 the one Steve drove.

Completed on: 05/23/2023

Posted on: 05/27/2023

The Adults- @yourfavdummy @mothermirkwood

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