#but doing it twice for one character I want to build is a hard pill to swallow

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

got my Alcryst up to +4 on the legendary remix today. he started at +1 so today I was very carefully mulling over who to give 3 sets of his skills to before merging him

happy to say that Kagero, Halloween Niles and Setsuna all got some very good skills

[lightyearssurrogatedaddy]

Actual Skel Anatomy Brainrot

So my posts about magical membranes, vertebrae, teeth and traits was the end of it... right?

Haha LSD you dumb fuck, this is your new hyperfixation for the week.

Kind of long, I did this for fun and I'm not really up-to-date on what everyone's collective hivemind of an opinion is on Skel headcanons, so if I repeat something someone's already said, just be cool that you're hearing the same viewpoint twice:

Yeah

A Skel's body is naturally more resistant to most anti-depressants and pills, which aids them in being one of the least likely monster types to die from illness, but makes them more vulnerable if they do happen to catch a cold. If the virus can get past the immunity system, your Skel is in for a hell of a ride.

It takes longer for a Skel to get drunk or high, when they do it effects their magic. Randomly melting into half-assed attacks (for example; Error would have the problem of constantly pouring sting out his eyes. Someone like Papyrus would unintentionally bluify someone/thing around himself.) which are always harmless.

Magic on medication or stimulant loses its strength and deals less than half the damage it's supposed to, although prescription meds aren't as stat draining as what was listed above.

Becomes harder to control in some cases, if your Skel has a more violent nature their magic might react extremely to aspirin or melatonin. That's the body trying to get rid of the unfamiliar chemicals, and goes about it the same way the personality type of the host does.

Skel's breathe to absorb oxygen, like everyone does, the oxygen is used to put more power for attacks and energy reserves. They can run faster, react quicker, and talk louder. They don't suffer from any side effects without air, and could happily exist in a vacuum. They also use breathing for their vocal cords.

Fun fact: a Skel's bite force is 235PSI, the same as a pitbull's, and can lock their jaws to the same ability when biting into something. Its a leftover trait from a much more primal age, like with humans still having wisdom teeth. (but yk, pitbull-esc strength is way cooler.) So Skels don't have many reasons to bite or maul.

Their teeth keep growing throughout their lives, sometimes if unchecked can result in overgrowth that makes it hard to eat or communicate, similar to 'overgrown beaks' in birds. Normally their teeth are worn down by the common habit of chewing or losing them. Skel's have three sets of teeth, their infant pair, adulters, and backup set.

Other Skel bone facts: there are different types of vertebrae, named after the expands it runs down. But intercross commonly.

Cervical-Thoracic, Thoracic-Lumbar, Cervical-Lumbar, to name a few variations

The two types of vertebrae builds are straight-edge and curved, curved is more likely for Cervical and Thoracic, while straight-edge is typically found further down the spine.

Tailbones! A Skel's tail doesn't get much longer than 6-8 inches, and tucks between the legs most of the time to act as extra membrane protection. It doesn't have the same flexibility of a dog or cat's, so they can't express emotion through it, nor does a tail have enough strength to act as a limb.

When the membrane is broken it'll bleed a thick red liquid, no matter the magic color. Happens frequently, sometimes the bones meant to protect the membrane end up piercing it on accident.

The membrane relies on the soul to repair itself if it gets damaged, if you don't have a soul, you're more likely to severe internal bleeding and gag reflex. Vomiting liquid magic also happens if one tries to absorb magic that isn't theirs, the body treats it like a virus.

Ngl it feels really good to find a cool creature to jump on and explore. Ik some of my bullshit would look strange in canon, but really, I just wanted to have fun and reimagine these characters and their body types. uhhhh ight I think that's it

[cavehags]

chell! any thoughts on kevin can fuck himself? i was surprised with how much i liked the pilot, but that's all i've seen so far. curious to know if you're enjoying it

i am enjoying it! i'm caught up up to episode five now and i think the fifth episode was the best and most focused so far. there are a lot of flaws that i wish i could swoop in to fix, but i like the show so much for what it's trying to be that the downsides don't hurt my experience all that much.

the positives: i love how it looks. the multicam-to-single-cam shifts are quite jarring at first but become very natural as you get used to it. i love that the variation in lighting allows you to pick up on little details that you can only see in one of the two worlds. in the multicam, you can see that kevin is wearing shoes that are brand-new. but in the single cam, you can see that allison's sweater is stained or in tatters.

i also love how gingerly they're developing allison and patti's relationship. it's not too fast in that instant-best-friends way that you get on comedies; there's a real hesitation to trust there and it's not all in allison's control. allison's attitude toward patti is very interesting; patti's ignored her or treated her outright cruelly for so long, but she's so desperate for an ally that she doesn't seem bothered by those old wounds. the fact that allison is the one chasing patti's friendship and patti is the one rebuffing her, in spite of patti's treatment of her, paints such a heartbreaking picture of allison.

i like how the show is balancing kevin's hijinks with allison's mission. i read quite a few interviews about how challenging it was to find plotlines and jokes for kevin that the audience would enjoy watching even though they hate him and i think they're succeeding there. i really appreciate that the writers have found episodic storylines that are perfectly par for the course in a sitcom but quite chilling in light of what we know about allison's inner life. the fifth episode did the best job of this. when kevin stations his buddies on the couch and then puts patti and allison in the hot seat, asking questions in a booming voice that showcases his power over them, that was really masterful. it was so sitcom-esque that no one would think twice about it in a show like kevin can wait, but in context, it was really really disturbing and scary.

my main concern going into this show was that there might just not be enough plot to justify eight full hours of allison trying different methods to kill her husband. i had envisioned that her attempts to kill him would be episodic trial-and-error, attempting one method in one episode and trying another one the next week when the last one didn't work out. in the end they wound up leaning more serialized with allison sticking to one main approach and just going about it all very slowly. i'm glad that's what they decided on. but while i appreciate the gravity the series is bringing to her storyline by giving it the slow pace it deserves and allowing each installment to properly build on the last, not to mention the very deliberate contrast it draws between that and kevin's more episodic antics, i have to admit that i find it hard to feel compelled by this drug dealer stuff. i think my problem with it is that the obstacles that allison and patti keep running into are pretty external and disconnected from the kevin of it all. and although there was a bit of this in episode two, i still think the series could do a better job of highlighting why opioids are a particularly elegant murder weapon for the housewife who nobody listens to. but (spoilers) they've moved past the murder-by-pills angle now so i doubt we'll be circling back.

i also like the character of sam, the guy who owns the diner, and what allison's crush on him brings to the story. however, i do worry that he's not being afforded the type of inner life that allison has fought for. allison seems to care for him, but her apparent lack of interest in his pre-existing relationship and his newfound sobriety worry me a little. we're getting breadcrumbs about him though and i wonder if the writers are attentive to the fact that it's not uncommon for a love interest who is a person of color to just be a tool to prop up a white lead. i wonder if it's deliberate. maybe sam's need for interiority could be a setup for season two?

my last gripe is that i still want to learn so much more about allison than what we're getting. patti comes through very clearly to me--her acerbic wit, her hesitation to trust people and burden them with inner life, her big heart that causes her to put herself in bad situations. what we know about allison outside of kevin's orbit is that she's quick to temper, she has unfulfilled dreams, she's impulsive, and she has a dorky sense of humor. (annie murphy is really doing fantastic work with her expressions whenever allison makes a joke and sort of half-smiles as she hopes it will land.) i really badly want a flashback episode to see who allison was before she met kevin, and what her family was like. just want to see how she landed in this multicam world where so much of her is erased. i think we have a shot at seeing something like that in the back half of the season so fingers crossed. 🤞

overall i think the show is managing a lot of moving parts very well. it's very entertaining and it's really scratching an itch for me! i would like to see some more of kevin looming large even in the single cam storylines that he has no involvement in, just to better show the suffocating grip he has on allison's life. like when he reported the car stolen, interrupting allison and patti's day just when they felt they were free of him, that was really gripping. and i would like to know more about allison and how she got to this point. i'm hoping we get more of both in the back half of the season.

[granddaughterogg]

When you have The Flu - Death edition

(Because Tumblr has apparently decided to limit the number of characters in text posts now. Can you believe this bullshit?)

You woke up one grey autumn morning and even before you’ve unglued your eyelids - everything was terrible. Your head was throbbing with a dull ache. Your bones felt as if filled with lead. You opened your eyes, made the heroic attempt to sit up - and groaned when your whole body spasmed with a violent shiver.

“Oh, for fucks’ sake”, you mumbled and then called out:

“Death!…”

“There’s no need for making noise”, a gravelly voice observed. “I am right here.”

“Death…” Your head snapped to the left and indeed, there he was. Sat cross-legged on the floor next to the window. A streak of dim morning light glimmered in his tar black hair, bringing out the purple undertones. He was sharpening one of his smaller scythes. His large hand swiftly moved up and down its blade, producing a tiny, piercing grind. You’d probably hear it earlier if your ears weren’t so clogged.

“Yes?” His voice was as level as his movements. It soothed you, this steadiness.

Death can take care of this. Take care of you.

“I am sick, D. Down with some bloody flu. My whole body aches.”

His face darted upwards; two blazing eyes met yours and then slid along your whole frame. There was nothing lecherous about it. Not this time. He simply assessed your state. Took it all in; the bleary gaze, the dark circles under your eyes, your unnatural paleness.

He silently put the weapon away. Stood up, leaned over you and cautiously swiped one damp streak of hair away from your sweaty face. If two years ago someone had told you that you’ll consider the literal Grim Reaper a comfort-inducing sight, you’d ask them if they’ve hit their heads.

But so much has happened during those two years. Like the whole Apocalypse.

“So it seems”, he said. “Which is unfortunate. What do you need me to do?”

You told him. You swallowed some pills (unlike Strife, D didn’t need to be instructed twice about where they’re kept), you had a cup of intensely lemony tea with ginger and some acacia honey, which he threw in in for good measure - and then you flopped onto the bedsheets.

“Imma gonna lie back down now…” you mumbled, your eyes already closing on their own.

Death sat close, his broad back pressed into the side of the bed, and reached for his scythe.

“Rest as long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Death?…”

“Yes?”

“Could you…read me aloud for a while, maybe? I really like listening to your voice, you know…” Your own was hoarse, girly and helpless. Pathetic. It’s hard to sound like a sultry vixen when your nose is full. But your Horseman didn’t seem to care.

His siblings went back home some time later and were taken aback by this unusual sight. You lying flat, transformed into an ailing burrito - and the Reaper on the floor with a small, old, worn-out book in his hand. His deep, raspy timbre sounded loud and clear, weaving the tale.

“One morning - it was the morning that Moomintroll’s pappa finished building a bridge over the river - the little animal Sniff made a discovery. (There were still plenty of things left to discover for them in the valley. he was wondering in the forest when he suddenly noticed a path he had never seen before winding mysteriously into the green shadows. Sniff was spellbound and stood gazing at it for several minutes. It’s funny about paths and rivers, he mused. You see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else - wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps.”

War was the first to put a finger on his lips and stalk closer, but his siblings followed suit. They all sat around, enthralled by the voice.

[perfeggso]

every fortress falls (AKIRA x NCT)

Please enjoy this anime-kpop crossover for the Lights, Camera, Fanfiction event hosted by @supermwritersnet​! I chose to write for Shotaro and one of my favorite fictional universes ever, Akira’s Neo-Tokyo. If you know Akira, my story will run parallel to the canon plot. If not, I hope you give this a try and enjoy anyway and I highly recommend the source material! <3

If you’re interested, here is my AKIRA playlist. 

Setting of Akira: It has been thirty years since the end of WWIII, begun due to the detonation of an unidentified superweapon known only as “Akira” over Tokyo. The incident and subsequent war decimated the city which was rebuilt into Neo-Tokyo, a corrupt and crime-ridden megalopolis centered on an artificial island in Tokyo Bay.

Characters: Shotaro, Sungchan, Yuta, Akira main characters, other NCT members upcoming. 

Genres: cyberpunk, sci-fi, action/adventure 

Warnings: drug use/abuse, gangs, some swearing, eventual graphic violence

Rating: mature but not explicit 

Chapter length: 1.3k

Chapter 1:

The capsule cradled in Shotaro’s palm is red and white and shiny, like the earrings that Noriko would wear and which, when Shotaro asked, he found out were supposed to look like “blood and come,” respectively. The drone of Tanaka-Sensei’s voice from the front of the classroom barely penetrates the cloak of sullen disruption shielding Shotaro’s wooden amphitheater seat in classroom 12 of the Eighth District Vocational Training School. Even though realistically no one is paying attention, Shotaro tries to hold the pill so that his hand is obscured by his row’s shared desk. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous; Tanaka-Sensei is barely commanding control of the room as he attempts to explain how a carburetor works, the closest kid to Shotaro is reading a girly magazine, and everyone at the school is well aware that you can buy as many of these pills as any broke student could afford from the nurse’s office.

It’s just, Shotaro reasons as the patent-leather-like curves of the capsule glint in the jaundiced combination of natural and fluorescent light, he’s always been a good kid. He doesn’t do things like this – at least that’s what Yuta constantly tells him. He doesn’t buy drugs – no matter how cheap they are – from Kaneda’s girlfriend of all people, and he certainly doesn’t take them. Kaneda, Shotaro has always felt, is inextricably linked to him. For one, Shotaro Kaneda’s family name is the same as Shotaro’s given name (though they use slightly different kanji if anyone ever cared to notice). For another thing, the two boys have known of each other since early childhood, having come up in the same orphanage and school system for boys deemed by the state to be “lacking in future prospects.” (Shotaro doesn’t think this label really applies to him; it’s not his fault he doesn’t really like academics and the one activity he really enjoys – dancing – is far too expensive for him to pursue). For a final, crucial thing, Kaneda is the leader of the Capsules, the rival gang to Yuta’s Clowns. The fact that Kaneda could very literally kill Shotaro’s adoptive brother of sorts any day now understandably precludes him from feeling much of an affinity towards his classmate.

Shotaro has been taunted more times than he can remember for being the “boring” Shotaro. But if skating by under the radar to receive his vocational high school diploma, getting out, and not being sent to Jaws for discipline twice a week is boring to his classmates, Shotaro doesn’t really care.

Well, he didn’t care, until he had gotten to thinking one day last week. It started when he’d found Yuta’s stash of drugs. Yuta tries very hard to keep any evidence of his dependency from his little brother, but he’s not always great at it. Over the years, Shotaro couldn’t help but notice the blissful calm which comes over Yuta when Shotaro has caught him thinking he was taking the stuff in private. Nor could Shotaro help but register the ensuing boost in energy and motivation. It had always made him wonder even if Yuta categorically forbid it and he was good at smothering his curiosity. When Shotaro came to school the next day and mentioned finding Yuta’s pills offhand to Sungchan, the younger boy proved less adept at quashing his hunger for new experiences, and Shotaro had begun to truly let his imagination get the best of him.

“Hey!” The harsh whisper startles Shotaro out of his preoccupation with the look and feel of his capsule, to the extent that he almost blunders and drops it down the five graduated rows of seats below him. But fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, he holds on.

The voice is as familiar as the backseat of Yuta’s motorcycle and coming from the level of seats behind Shotaro, so he turns around. Class has devolved to the point that having a full conversation stage-whisper style is about the least disruptive thing occurring.

Sungchan’s oversized frame and comforting smile loom over Shotaro from above, like a benevolent version of the mechanical surveillance vultures Sungchan had once gushed in horror that the American government was trying to build.

“Did I scare you?” Sungchan asks.

Shotaro fakes a glare at his best friend, but only ends up chuckling.

“How could I be scared by a 185cm walking teddy-bear?”

Sungchan tries to look hurt but giggles right back.

“Did you get the stuff?”

Shotaro nods, angling his hand so Sungchan can see the pill.

“Why were you so late to class?” Shotaro asks, feeling irrational panic nipping at the edges of his mind for the first time all day to suggest that maybe Sungchan was held up because someone caught him with drugs. Shotaro wonders why this thought hadn’t occurred to him earlier, hoping that’s an indication of its ridiculousness.

“I got caught up talking to Sawako in the nurse’s office,” Sungchan explains, and Shotaro relaxes a little. “She was very chatty for some reason and I felt bad. I think she’s lonely. Did you know Kaneda got her pregnant?”

“No, what?” Shotaro makes a face as disapproving as he feels. “That asshole. Of course he wouldn’t use protection. Ugh, anyway. Did you get what you wanted? Everything go smoothly?”

Sungchan pulls a button-size plastic bag from his pocket and displays, not quite covertly enough for Shotaro’s liking but he’ll live, the identical red and white capsule within.

“Perfect.”

“I was thinking,” Sungchan continues, “Sawako said she thinks there’ll be a battle between the Capsules and the Clowns tonight. Should we try to catch some of it?”

Shotaro leans his elbows onto the desk in front of his friend and smiles, indulgent.

“While we’re high for the first time? Sounds like a shitty idea.” Sungchan pouts like Shotaro knew he would, so he adds a “we can feel it out in the moment, though,” because he is a weak man when it comes to Sungchan’s wants and needs. They are both that way towards each other, even when it gets them into trouble. But as Yuta always says, “memorable trouble is worth it”; i.e., if it makes a good story in the future, might as well go for it.

“Yuta would kill me if he found out though,” Shotaro wagers, “and I mean that literally.”

The last class of the day ends as he’s speaking and he and Sungchan make plans for meeting in the evening as they filter out of the musty, chipping paint, brutalist structure which is supposed to pass for a place of learning.

Shotaro finds Yuta where he always does after school: unsheathing his motorcycle in the back parking lot.

Yuta’s bike is a souped-up Honda painted to look like a 1940s bomber. Yuta wears a black leather biking suit he probably slipped on in the men’s room before heading out and pulls a helmet decorated with clown makeup over his black mullet as he greets his little brother, following the exchange by offering a similar helmet to Shotaro.

They hop on and head out onto the streets of Neo-Tokyo. Skyscrapers tower grey in the daytime light what feels like miles above the litter-strewn street and block out the sun. They’re so massive they could probably each hold an entire city’s worth of people, Shotaro reckons, and they move sluggishly in opposition to the trajectory of the bike, like cargo ships trudging against water.

“Good day?” Yuta asks when they stop at an intersection next to Flower Alley Mall.

“Yeah,” Shotaro assures. “Sungchan heard something about a battle tonight? What’s up with that?”

“I don’t want to get into it, but he’s right,” Yuta admits. “But don’t try to tag along or I’ll murder you.”

With that, the light turns and Shotaro grabs hold of Yuta, mumbling “I know” fondly into his shoulder. They zip away like that the rest of the way to their apartment, the capsule burning nuclear in Shotaro’s pocket as he’s left to ponder his next move.

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters:  Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of  Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses,  Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe

You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.

They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all  the Asgardians, an invading force.

But they weren't invading this planet.

You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.

Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.

“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.

“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”

Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.

“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.

The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.

The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.

You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.

Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.

You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.

“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.

“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.

“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”

“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”

“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”

“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”

“But would you still live in such a home?”

“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”

“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”

“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”

“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”

“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.

“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”

“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”

“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”

“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”

Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.

“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”

“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”

“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.

But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”

“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.

“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”

You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.

“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”

“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”

He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.

“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”

“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.

“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”

The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.

“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”

It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”

“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”

You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.

And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.

On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.

Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.

Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.

But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.

Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.

Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.

Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...

                                                                               ******

...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.

He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.

He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.

“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”

You scooted quickly away from him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.

“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“That...might have happened.”

“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”

“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”

“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”

“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”

“...Maybe tomorrow.”

Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.

You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?

[hardman5509]

A Gift For Keine

@touhousecretsanta

Howdy there @kikuhan I’m your Touhou Secret Santa, and I got a story for ‘ya! This one goes around your request in a roundabout fashion, but I figured something different would be more interesting.

I don’t know much about PC-98 characters (outside of the obvious ones), so I stuck with the ones I knew about. Hope you enjoy it!

Living out in the middle out of nowhere did have a massive downside to that. Mokou didn't have money. She generally lived off things that she could find lying around...or stealing. She had a habit of stealing a whole lot, even more as of late due to the growing number of powerful individuals coming to Gensokyo. It seems like there's someone new coming in every other day.

Back on topic, Mokou didn't have any money of her own. And she wanted to get something for...that holiday...that green-haired girl that lived at that mountain shrine raved all about at this time of year. Christmas, right? It's weird, but people were getting into it. Even more with the humans. They loved it! They would gather around in the middle of the village, surrounding a large tree, and decorate it. They would also go out and give each other gifts...

And that's the part that has Mokou worried. No money, no gift. And she really wanted to pay Keine back.

It was Keine that introduced her to the holiday in the first place after all. Keine spent most of her time working with the humans, and while she did initially criticize the event, she did end up accepting it. Mokou had noticed it, along with Keine's own problems. Keine had been greatly affected by all of the new people that made Gensokyo their home, as that meant she would have to work longer and harder to protect the Humans. Whenever she came by to visit, Keine just seemed to be out of energy, always tense, and more ready to snap.

“Sorry.” Keine would then apologize. “It's just...”

Mokou knew that Keine really needed a break. And that would be impossible, Keine didn't really trust anyone that's not human. Mokou...technically still counts as one, but Keine just refused to allow her to take over. So getting her to take a break isn't going to be what Mokou is going to get her, she's going to get her a gift that would help Keine relax!

And in fact, that weirdo shopkeeper is selling something from the other world that might help with that. It's a machine that massages your feet; that sounded perfect for someone like Keine. Mokou puffed out her chest as she started to look around for somewhere she could get some money, and fast. The Human Village is out of the question however, she didn't want to tip Keine off to her plans. Shrine-duty isn't going to pay her anything, let alone if she decides to go and work with Reimu.

...so that left...

“Huh.” Eirin mused out as she looked over the annoyed-looking Mokou. “I guess I could pay you for help, but I'm more concerned that you will just start a fight with the princess...”

“I don't care about the princess, I just need the money.” Mokou interrupted. Eirin responded by tossing a pill that was nearby at Mokou's head. Mokou just let the tiny thing bounce off her forehead. “I need the money for a Christmas gift.”

“Really?” Eirin tilted her head. “Just a Christmas gift? Wouldn't you like to have money all the time? I mean, I could use some real help around here, and if you had more money, you could leave the forest behind...”

“Just a Christmas gift.”

“Okay.” Eirin grunted. “I guess if you just want some spending money, I can hire you on as a janitor.”

“Done, deal, where's the mop, I'll go ahead and clean up.” Mokou breathed out as she jumped up to her feet.

“I don't need anything cleaned right now.” Eirin followed suit. “When I ask for you...“

“Break-time? Break-time.” Mokou spoke out and pulled out one of the few things she has left, a pack of cigarettes. A commodity of the other world, and yet damn expensive here in Gensokyo. She's lucky to get even one packet like this and she had to trade some herbs she found in her part of her woods to get them...

And Eirin snatched them and then promptly tossed them into the trash bin. “You're working in a medical facility, smoking is only allowed outside.” Eirin told. Mokou almost felt tempted to go ahead and just leave...but it's either this or working at a shrine. And yet, the endless and repitive nature of shrine work would probably allow her to take a drag every now and then...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mokou had another surprise awaiting her when she went outside. Marisa! Mokou's entire body started to tense up upon seeing that walking bundle of chaos. Marisa waved. “Yo, firebug!”

“Hey.” Mokou replied as she looked away. “What brings you around these parts?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” Marisa wagged a finger at Mokou. “Isn't this the place you regularly trash in your eternal revenge against Princess Lazyass?”

Mokout did have to stifle a little laugh. That does accurately portray Kaguya. “Got a job here, janitorial. Need money, end of story.”

“Oh, really?” Marisa raised a eyebrow at that. “Same actually! I need some mad money for a little project coming up, and Eirin is hiring all sorts of people right now.” Marisa put her hands behind her back, starting to rock and back forth on her feet. “So, what did you have to bribe her with in order to get a job? I had to give away some of my best mushrooms.”

“I went in and asked.”

“Really?” Marisa groaned. “Just like that? I think I have just been bamboozled...” She paused for a second, before looking around the area that Eientei is situated in. The Bamboo Forest. Marisa pointed at a wall of bamboo and laughed, in the same manner as a little girl would have. Mokou pursed her lips and sat down on the steps. “C'mon, you have to admit that was kinda funny...”

“Sure, real riot.” Mokou sighed. “Look, I just want money for a Christmas gift. I don't want any trouble or shenanigans...”

“Doubtful you're going to be avoiding those, the latter sort.” Marisa pointed out. “Tewi has set traps everywhere. She might be setting them up right now as we speak. Probably putting around our main areas of work. We could be taking out the trash, and boom!” She made her hands flutter around. “Down we go into a traphole!”

“Pfft.” Mokou blew out. “I'm used to that little idiot's traps. If we just fly around, we can avoid her pitfalls.” Mokou did a little demonstration as she started to float up. “See? This will be easy...”

“Alright, we can totally do that.” Marisa nodded, pulling her broom out of nowhere. “Of course, with my broom, I can carry more than you can.” She tapped on the broom. “So, you feel like a little competition? I don't think that Eirin can pay us equally, so she's going to shell out the big bucks to the best worker...”

“I just need the money.” Mokou told, swiping her hands around in the air. “Even if you are paid twice of what I make, I don't care. Once I get enough to afford the item, I'm leaving.”

“C'mon...” Marisa cooed as she got right up next to Mokou. Mokou groaned and flinched at being so close towards Marisa. “Surely you got the spirit of competition about you. You are plenty fiery after all...” She bumped an elbow into Mokou's shoulder. Mokou let out a small snarl. “Don't you want to earn so much money at once that you can quit early?”

“Leave me be.” Mokou told as she gently pushed Marisa off to the side. Marisa took it well and giggled like the little imp she is. Mokou decided to take her break elsewhere, you know, anywhere that's not here. Mokou figured the best place to be would to be behind the big barn like building. Possibly the place that Eirin keeps all of her victims, the results of her experiments...or both!

Still, possibly a good and shady spot. Mokou walked on over to the barn and then down into a large pit. The mocking laughter of a little rabbit girl following soon after. Mokou just took a deep breath and focused on staying calm. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At least she got to work on the inside after that. Sweeping around, cleaning dishes, and properly cleaning up lab equipment is all boring work. But it keeps her away from Marisa, Kaguya isn't bugging her as she's sleeping off an all-nighter of games,  and possibly from Tewi. No telling if Tewi has somehow managed to booby-trap the inside of Eientei, and the other people living here had jut gotten used to it and knew where the traps were.

Except Reisen. She never learned.

Mokou walked over the fallen Reisen and back into the main lab. “Swept all the dust away.” She told onto Eirin.

“Good, good.” Eirin sighed as she scrawled out a quick note. “Now, I got a important task for you.” She pulled out a wrapped package. “This is a easy one. I need you to deliver this to the Hakurei shrine. You should know where that is, right?” Mokou nodded. She had been there a few times before, and it's not like a hard place to find. It's just that nobody in the right mind would go and visit it without a decent reason to do so.

“So Reimu afforded something?” Mokou asked as she took the package in hand. She knew better to try and shake it.

“Oh no.” Eirin shook her head. “It's for Suika. She can actually afford me.”

“How?”

“I don't ask questions, and I accept payment first.” Eirin held up a finger. “Now, get going. I might not have a time limit on deliveries, but I am considering it in the future. So uphold my future reputation.”

Mokou sniffed as she exited out of the room with the package in hand. This should be easy. Just fly on out to the Hakurei Shrine, slap the package into Suika's face and get back to Eientei in time for payday. Hopefully payday and not more work. Mokou would like to get paid and leave. Still, this chore has to be more interesting and less annoying than menial labor, right?

“Hey, whatcha got there?”

Mokou groaned as she stepped away from a curious-looking Marisa. “Package. Special delivery. Need to get going.” She explained.

“What's inside, and who's it for?” Marisa questioned as she peered all around the package, somehow managing to keep up with Mokou moving it. “Hold on, I think I see a name...the shrine, huh?” Marisa's expression changed upon seeing the name of the location; going from curiosity to something like a blank stare. “What did Reimu order?”

“None of your business, got to go!” Mokou growled as she spun around, tucking the package underneath her armpit and scurrying on outside.

“Wait up!” Marisa called out, summoning her broom out of nowhere and starting to chase after Mokou. “If it's going to the shrine, you should let me do it! I know the people there a lot better than you! And I'm faster than you too...”

“Don't you got something else going on?” Mokou shouted back as she hopped off the stairs and took flight. “Like sweeping or something?”

“Oh, it's nothing! It can wait!” Marisa shouted back as she continued to give chase. She sounded actually concerned. That's a oddity to hear coming from Marisa. What about this package is so bloody important to her? Mokou would...not care to ask, nor really care about Marisa in the first place. Besides, if Marisa is so insistent on following her around, than that means she would most likely lose her job for abandoning her post...

...which will mean that Mokou will have more work to do. Oh dear.

“Hey Marisa!” Mokou called back, almost letting a little bit of panic enter into her voice. “If you get fired for following me around, than that means I will get the higher pay!”

“It's okay, it's okay!” Marisa called back. “I just think it's more important that I deliver this package, and hey, there's got to be more jobs for me out there! Really, just let me deliver the package to Reimu!” Marisa started to pick up speed, zooming dangerously close to Mokou's side. Mokou let out a sharp yelp as she quickly darted off to the side, heading back into the woods.

“All this over a package?” Mokou called out as she dipped around the various trees. “C'mon...”

Her little speech about why Marisa is throwing away her job was crudely interrupted by a even cruder trap. A log about the same size of Mokou came crashing right into her face. Mokou groaned as she fell down onto the floor of the forest into a crumpled mess, for all of a second right before she fell through the floor and into one of Tewi's pitfalls.

“Ohmygosh!” Marisa spat out as she safely landed next to the pitfall. “Is the package okay?” Mokou groaned and feebly held up the package, somehow remaining intact despite having been through three impacts. “Thank goodness!” Marisa chuckled as she took the package and soared up into the sky.

...oh right. Tewi. Everyone in Gensokyo can fly. Of course the trap-loving smart-ass would build trap in accordance with that specific trait. Why did Mokou assume that going through Tewi's stomping grounds would work out in her favor? She crawled out of the pit as fast as she could and started to go after Marisa. No doubt that Marisa would head in the direction of the shrine!

And this time she's going to avoid the forest entirely by flying over it.

“Shrine dead-ahead!” Marisa called out as she noticed the big and obvious shrine dead-ahead of her. “Alright shrine maiden, get ready to meet the sexiest, most brilliant, delivery-girl in all of Gensokyo!”

“Dead is correct!” Mokou snarled as she reached on out and grabbed Marisa by the shoulder, managing to toss the witch off her broom. “I'm not going to let you to get away with leaving me behind!”

“Woah!” Marisa shouted out as she did a barrel-roll around in the air, managing to readjust herself in the air. “Watch the package, watch the package!” Marisa shuddered as she clutched the package close to her chest as she rolled around in the air, hoping to somehow avoid Mokou coming after her. At least Mokou cannot bring out spellcards or her famous kicks without endangering the package.

“Just hand the package back to me!” Mokou shouted as she grabbed Marisa by the shoulders, intending to give Marisa a little demonstration of what falling to Earth feels like. Marisa screamed as the big green earth beneath her started to get bigger right before she impacted through the ground, leaving a Marisa-shaped crater in their wake.

“Mine, mine!” Mokou screamed as she wrestled the package out of Marisa's hands. “Now to complete the delivery...”

“Ahem.”

Mokou pulled herself out of the ground and found herself looking at the shoes of someone stomping said shoes against the ground. “I believe you just marred my grounds...” The person spoke, while rapping a certain wooden stick against the palm of their open hand.

“Ah.” Was the last thing that Mokou got to say before she canned in the head by a big orb with the Yin-Yang symbol on it.

“Oh, Reimu!” Marisa waved out of the hole as Reimu dragged the now unconscious Mokou out of the Marisa hole, allowing Marisa to drag herself out of it. “I got a package here for you...”

“Didn't order anything.” Reimu told as she let Mokou flop on down to more solid ground. “You sure you were supposed to deliver to me?” Marisa pointed to the package, still wrapped up in Mokou's hands. Reimu went on over and gently tugged it out of Mokou's clutches. “Huh, it is for the shrine...”

“Hey, my thingie arrived!” Suika cheered out as she came out of nowhere and took the package. “About time too...” She looked around, noticing both Reimu and Marisa. “Hey, now, this is a surprise...” She giggled out as clutched the package close to her chest. “You gots to wait for it, Rei...”

“What is she on about?” Reimu questioned.

“Wish I knew.” Marisa shrugged. “Hey, Reimu...” Marisa put her hands behind her back and stood right besides Reimu. “You got a nice...haircut? Right?”

“Marisa.” Reimu firmly stated.

“Hey, just making small talk.” Marisa held up her hands. “I best return to my work, along with my...” She strolled on over to the still unconscious Mokou and managed to hoist her on up onto he shoulder. “Co-worker here...”

“I hope you two are willing to come on back here and fix the damage...”

“Her, not so much. Me?” Marisa put her fee hand onto her chest. “Absolutely! Later Reimu!” Marisa whistled, and her broom suddenly zoomed on over to her, where she threw Mokou onto the broom and then she flew off. Reimu shook her head as she watched Marisa fly off. Besides the obvious wishes of Marisa not stealing stuff and her not destroying property, Reimu just wished that Marisa would just go ahead and confess her love.

When even Cirno can recognize it, you know you got some serious issues. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Package delivered madam!” Marisa saluted, with the still dazed Mokou doing the same.

“I recall only sending one of you to go and deliver it...” Eirin commented on. “But as long as you did your chores on the outside, I don't mind if you go together...”

“Oh those.” Marisa shrugged. “They could wait...”

“Marisa.” Eirin firmly interrupted, her eyes going a bit wide. “I asked you to go and dispose of some chemical waste...you did go and did that, right...?”

“MISS, THERE'S A GIANT SLIME MONSTER OUTSIDE AND IT WANTS TO EAT ME!”

“Marisa, you're fired.” Eirin pointed towards Marisa. “Help me kill the slime monster and I'll at least pay you. Mokou, help me kill it and you can keep your job.”

“Guess I don't have much of a choice here.” Marisa shrugged. She pulled out of her Mini-Hakkero, giggled exactly like the mad woman she is, and ran outside, accidentally smacking Mokou in the face. This at least got Mokou to return to being mostly 'sane'. Eirin clapped her hands, and that got Mokou to scramble on outside.

As the three got outside, they found Reisen being pummeled around by a giant slime monster. It had wrapped a tentacle around Reisen's waist and is now treating her like a hammer and there's nails everywhere that needed to punched in. Reisen's usual sort of moans and groans echoed throughout the area.

“We need to stop the creature before it escapes out of the forest.” Eirin told as she notched an arrow into her bow. “Lethal measures permitted, just try to avoid damaging Eientei.”

“MISS!” Reisen cried out as she got, rather luckily, tossed aside by the creature. Extra lucky that she got sent through the roof of Eientei, and not into the bamboo forest where she could have been impaled by the bamboo or land into a nest of some nasty creature that would have stung her a million times. Kaguya, on the other hand, will just pelt her with a newspaper a dozen times.

“I'll give it a nice bath, with my magic! Master Spark!” She fired off her trademark (stolen) attack right at the center of the mass, causing the slime to bubble and boil, but remain still. “Hey, now it smells awful!” Marisa groaned as she had to stop attacking to press on her nose.

“It's made out of various amounts of chemical waste that came from my results in my lab experiments.” Eirin groaned as she fired off an arrow, aiming at where she noticed the biggest globs of concentration within the slime, assuming it to be the nucleus of the being. The arrow didn't even make it halfway through it before the slime dissolved it. “So don't burn it! The fumes coming off it would be toxic to even youkai!”

Mokou looked down to see her hands a-flamed. “Welp, might as well take a break then...” She sighed before Eirin put a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her from going anywhere. “What, you want me to kick it?”

“Better than nothing!” Eirin motioned her head on over to the slime, with Marisa flying around it and hitting it with non-hot lasers. She didn't look to be having much fun. “If you and Marisa can punch a hole into it, leading to that big discolored blob in the middle, I can hit it with an arrow and kill it!”

“Oh, eew...” Mokou sighed. “Fine. But I am getting paid for this right?”

“Well, this is part of your job, cleaning up messes, ain't it?” Eirin chuckled as she notched another arrow. “Just get me to the core!” Mokou nodded as she ran forward to the really foul looking monster. She figured a little fire wouldn't hurt anything, just as long as she keeps it concentrated into a single kick. Just enough to give the kick a little more kick...

Great, now she sounds like Marisa.

Spinning around, and with fire surrounding her right leg, Mokou kicked through the slime. “That's it!” Eirin told. “Almost there...”

“Let me finish this in style!” Marisa called out as she zipped on down to Mokou's level and unleashed another powerful beam, aiming where Mokou had kicked in before. It did punch through a little bit more, but then Mokou and Eirin noticed the smoke coming from the gap...

“Marisa?” Eirin coughed out. “Did I tell you to not use fire?”

“I thought it would be...” Marisa coughed in return. “...fine, now...”

“How...” Mokou hacked out. “...did you get to live this long?”

“Well...” Marisa giggled, throwing in a small cough. “Good luck, good friends and good looks mostly...”

“Ugh!” Eirin grunted as she pulled a gas mask out of her pouch and slapped it onto her face. “I should just bought the mushroom off you!”

“Wait, what?” Marisa asked, her voice now clear of any congestion. “I could have gotten more?”

“I only agreed to let you have the job as it would be easier to keep you around than have you run around as free as you want!” Eirin told as she grabbed a second mask and slapped it onto the reeling Mokou. “Plus it would cost me less to pay you a minimum wage than to pay out for that rare mushroom!”

“Well, I don't feel like helping you out anymore.” Marisa crossed her arms. “Seeing how now you owe me a greater deal of mon...”

The slime monster decided to go for the easier target of the standing witch and continue its favorite game of 'hammer girl'. Bad sexual innuendo aside, Marisa got the usual Reisen treatment and got pummeled around for a bit before being sent flying off. Unlike Reisen however, Marisa actually remembered she could fly and managed to tuck herself into recovering in the air.

“Hey, I ain't no comic relief character!” Marisa groaned. “That's it, you want some real power?” She pulled out her Mini-Hakkero and aimed it down towards the slimeball. “How about a real big Master Spark?” Energy started to gather around into the mini-generator, making the air buzz with heat “I'll eradicate you with one good shot, 'ze jerk!”

“We should run.” Mokou thumbed behind her.

“I don't think that's going to help much...” Eirin sighed.

“LOVE SIGN: MASTER SPARK!” Marisa shouted, unleashing a full strength blast of rainbow energy out of her hands, with the creature caught right in the middle of the explosion. Good news? The beam nor the shockwave of it ended up damaging Eientei, and hey, it destroyed the slime creature. Bad news is that instead of disintegrating the creature, it splattered gloriously and gore-ly all over Eientei.

“On second thought, you were right.” Eirin remarked as took off her gas-mask. At least that prevented her from getting gunk in her mouth.  “Where's Marisa now?”

“Running off.” Mokou told as she looked up, seeing Marisa quickly darting away.

“Oh well, don't have to pay her then.” Eirin shrugged. “Tell you what.” She pointed on over to Mokou. “Clean this up and I'll double...”

“Triple.”

“Triple your payment.” Eirin sniffed as she swiped her hands of the goo, sending it flying on over to Mokou's face. “See you in about three hours.” Eirin groaned as she went back inside.

Mokou looked all over the area. The slime is covering everything. And she meant everything. The trees, the bamboo, the roof, the side of the building, the floor, her and the returning Reisen. She just groaned and went back inside. Mokou wondered if she could possibly burn the slime away, but being someone with a brain, she remembered that the slime would produce some toxic fumes if she tried to burn it.

She located the mop and water bucket. It too was covered in slime.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took six hours, but Mokou had managed to clean up most of the slime. At least all of the stuff that's within general view. Surely the scant amounts of slime wouldn't turn into anything. They would just fade away at some point. Mokou got her tripled payment and got away from that crazy place. She didn't want to stick any longer than she had to. No telling what would happen next. There could be a explosion, someone from the moon...

She got the money, she got what she came for, time to get that gift (and some smokes now that she had some money to spend) and wait for Christmas day. This gave Mokou time to really calm down after all of that crazy nonsense that had gone down at Eientei. And then came...

Christmas time! Snow had started to fall, people were wearing all sorts of festive wear that made Mokou's eyes hurt a bit, and Keine could finally get a break from teaching/defending the humans to relax. The perfect time to present her gift! Mokou ran on over to Keine's house with the package in hand.

“Yo, Keine!” Greeted Mokou as she just invited herself in.

“I would appreciate if you would at least knock first.” Keine sighed as she put down her pen. “So, what's up?”

“I got a gift for you!” Mokou told as she held out her wrapped-up gift. “I worked hard for it.”

“Oh, Mokou...” Keine immediately relaxed and put a hand on her chest as she saw the crudely-wrapped up gift. “You really got this for me? That's so sweet, but you really didn't have to...”

“Nah I wanted to.” Mokou shook her head. “You work so hard for...peanuts? That's the word they use, right? What I mean you do a lot for little...”

“It's only right I chose this life.” Keine sighed as she stood up. “Because someone has to.”

“And because you don't trust anyone else to do it?”

“Look, I keep on seeing other powerful people squander what they have on such...ridiculous things.” Keine sniffed. “Reimu would rather sit around the shrine all day and invite in youkai than to tend the needs of humans. Marisa does her own thing all the time. And I do not dare to ask of the youkai or the other individuals affiliated with youkai...”

“Like Sakuya?”

“Her loyalty to her mistress means that she will prioritize gathering of blood over protection.” Keine scoffed. “There's just not so many people around that I can entrust the protection of humans over.”

“Then why not me?” Mokou asked holding the present close to her chest. “My immortality means I can keep it going for a long time...” She drew in a long breath as she ended up stumbling around with her words. “Well...” She breathed out. “You know. That thing.”

“It is something that I will not ask of you.” Keine shook her head. “Maybe once I do pass away, but while I live, it is my burden. Asking a friend, let alone you, is not something I can ask of you.”

“Let alone?”

“Oh, you know...” Keine chuckled as she looked away rather shyly. “Someone...like you. Someone to enjoy Christmas with.” She walked on over to a mini-icebox, opened it up, and pulled out a bottle of what looked to be a good vintage of sake. “So, how about it? You want to spend a night with me? Just you, me and this bottle of sake?”

“Yeah...yeah.” Mokou sighed. “That would be great. I got nothing else going on...”

Keine breathed out as she went on over to her couch, sake in hand. She sat down and patted the seat next to her. Mokou put a small smile as she sat on down right next to Keine. Mokou wasn't ready for the next bit of Keine resting her head onto her shoulder. Mokou's cheeks flared up and she felt the need to play with her collar. Room got a bit too hot for her liking.

“Oh yeah.” Mokou found a small way out of this. “Your gift. You wanna open it?”

“Might as well!” Keine giggled as she took the gift and tore through it.

“So you like it? It can massage you, so you can...”

“Eeerr, Mokou? This is a massager...”

“Something wrong? Not the right size for you?”

“No, you see...this is for adult use.”

“But you are an adult.”

“...private adult time.”

“Oh. Oh.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Merry Christmas Reimu!”

“I don't celebrate it.”

“I got you something for free, ze?”

“Ah. So you did.”

“Really awesome, isn't it?”

“I don't know, Suika got me the same thing as well.”

“Oh.”

“...look, if you want to bang, just ask nicely.”

“Ah.”

[desiraypark]

Yellow Light

The Continuation of  RED LIGHT

Characters: Adam Sackler x Female Reader (You) Storytelling: You are Adam, then you are You 

Content: This isn’t as messy as I originally intended. Just an ounce of mess. Some angst. Ends with fluff.

I’m avoiding certain content warnings because I don’t want to spoil it, but I will say that by third or fourth paragraph, you might get an understanding of what’s going on. Please feel free to add content/trigger warnings in the tags when you reblog! 

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE THIS! 

ADAM

It had been almost three months since you slow danced with her in Michelle’s bedroom...and three months since you fucked her brains out. You’d missed her so much. Everything about her. The sex was just the cherry on top of the sundae. Work was becoming steady in Atlanta; pussy was abundant. But you missed her. 

After that night, you discussed a temporary long-distance relationship. For a short period, you both would save money. But once you were a little more financially stable, you’d get a place and she’d come down to test the waters. Since that night, you talked to each other on the phone once, sometimes twice a day.

But after nearly three months of long-distance loving, the conversations started to get shorter. Replies to text messages were one sentence or one word. And it didn’t take long for you to know that something was up, because it was always a task to get the girl to shut the hell up. As far as you knew, she didn’t have social media, so you couldn’t spy on her. But you kept it cool. Maybe she was just busy. Then, another week floated by, and communication just...stopped. 

You gave in. You (painfully) made a Facebook account, found Michelle, and sent her a message one night after a 14-hour shooting day. The movie’s called The Dead Keep Dying, and it’ll soon be coming to a local film festival near you, by the way. Adam Sackler: Michelle, it’s Adam. Is everything okay with YN? Every few minutes, you checked your messages, awaiting a reply. Then, at one point, you noticed something had changed about your message. It had been “read”. But Michelle didn’t respond.  ____________________ YOU Three Weeks Later

You made your way up the sidewalk with a purse hanging lazily over your shoulder and a deli sandwich in your hand. All you wanted to do was take off your bra and sit in front of your television. But the closer you got to your building, the sooner you realized that plan wasn’t going to work out. You instinctively touched your belly, and let it drop away.  “Hey...” Adam said, standing on the steps. You stopped and stared up at him. “Hey.” “What’s going on? Are you alright?” he asked.  You clomped up the stairs and straight to the heavy door. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Adam followed you into the building, to your apartment door, and he followed you inside.  “What did I do?” he asked with his hands in the air, that Sackler impatience bubbling beneath the surface. He pushed the door closed behind him, and you dropped your keys and purse on your dining table.

Relief radiated through your flesh when you sat in your wooden dining chair. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke. 

“You put a fuckin’ baby in me, Sackler. That’s what you did.” Adam walked into your line of view with a dropped jaw and a red face. The corners of his mouth lifted and those dimples started to appear. But they quickly disappeared.  “You didn’t get rid of it, did you?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. You tugged at the plastic bag holding your sandwich . “No, I didn’t.” Before you pulled out your sandwich, you peeled yourself out of your jacket. His eyes roll down to your belly. You pivoted to face him completely and held your arms out--revealing the slight protrusion under your shirt. Adam rushed to you, fell to his knees and pressed his face against your belly. Without thinking, you ran your fingers through his hair. “Wait, I thought you took that B pill?” he asked, pulling his head away. You yanked your sandwich out of the bag and began unraveling the white paper around it. 

“Apparently, if you’re ovulating when you take it, it doesn’t work. And guess what?” “...you were ovulating...” You snapped and pointed your finger at Adam with a wink, then bit into your sandwich. He stood to his feet and stared down at you, taking the sight in. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked while rubbing his goatee. Puppy dog eyes making you melt. You took a deep breath and took a small bite of your sandwich. “I needed some time to think,” you soon answered. “Think about what?”  “Well...first of all, I had to figure out if I wanted to keep it...” Adam threw his head back and rolled his eyes. “God, not this shit again...” “Not what shit?” His soft demeanor transformed into his characteristic fury. He plowed right past your question. 

“So, what...you were gonna get an abortion and I would have never fucking known you were pregnant, right?!” “Adam, I would have talked to you about it. I just needed to thi--” “We fucked in June, so you’re what...you’re four months now? Right?” he asked, hands moving about as he expressed his thoughts.

“Seventeen weeks...”

“Okay, seventeen fucking weeks, I don’t know how many fucking months that is. But it’s October, and we fucked in June. You didn’t just find this shit out...”

“No, Adam, I didn’t, bu--” “Did you find out around Labor Day? When you started talking to me like I was a fucking...like I was a fucking nuisance or some shit?!” he asked. “Adam, can you relax, please?” you asked, holding up your hands.

He took a deep breath, rested a hand at his hip and looked away. Then he looked back at you. “Why did I have to get on a fucking plane to New fucking York to find out you were pregnant, Y/N?" “Because I needed time to think Adam,” you repeated. “Think about what? What did you need to think about?!” “To think about if I wanted to raise a child with you, Adam!” you blurted out. His neck snapped back and his face contorted. “You say it like I...like a fucking disgust you or some shit.” “No. I say it like someone who was with you for two years before you decided to fucking leave me for another state!” you shouted, throwing a pack of plastic utensils to emphasize the words “leave me”. It didn’t go anywhere, unfortunately. It just fluttered in the air for a millisecond before it fell inches away from your feet. “I thought we worked this out? I thought we moved past that?” Adam asked. “Well, I did. But I’ve gotta start doing the thinking for two people now.” Again, your hand innately fell to your belly. You gave it a soothing rub, and Adam watched your hand move in the circular motion. Tears began to well in his eyes and his voice started cracking. 

“You’re talking as if I’m going to abandon my child, and I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t fucking do that shit.”

”No. I actually don’t know if you would do that or not,” you said. You stood up and carried your sandwich to the kitchen. Your appetite was slipping from you. Of course, Adam was on your heels.  “I wouldn’t fucking do that. I’m telling you that I wouldn’t.” Just as you put your sandwich on the counter, Adam whirled you around to face him. His face was red, as were his eyes. “I would never do that shit to my own kid. Or you.” You looked down, but he lifted your face with a finger to your chin. “I’ll move back to New York. I’ll pack my shit, come back, and we’ll get a place.” Now, tears started to roll down your cheeks, but he quickly wiped them away. He kissed your lips.

“Okay?” he asked. He pressed his forehead to yours. “Okay?” “Okay, Adam. Okay...” He pressed his hands against your belly again, and started to laugh. Pure joy emanated from his vocal cords. You laughed with him and rested your arms on his shoulders. You gave each other a peck on the lips, and breathed each other in.

“Adam Sackler...” you said. “Yeah...?”

He moved his hands to your waist and rocked side to side with you. “If you go back on your word and abandon me and this baby, I swear to God, I will find you, pour cement over your dick and bite your nipples off.” Adam laughed. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, babe.” You gripped his jaw hard and made his mouth form into an oval. He stuck his tongue out, and you wrapped your lips around it. Then, he grabbed the nape of your neck and devoured your mouth.

[ldaoec]

I loved you

I fought for us like white knuckles on a roller coaster ride Unbuckled and unrestrained-- The ride, I mean No safety gear keeping us safe And I just let us happen Kind of like you stand back And watch storm clouds gather Watch lightening strike the same place Once Twice Going on thirty times But that doesn’t make it any less fascinating Train wreck, perfect storm, natural disaster All happening inside your head

Inside your heart Inside your soul A supersonic earthquake going through your body Burning you up like fuel So that you can’t win. It was a score It did become a game of sorts A game of survival Of faith Trying to get to the finish line first I loved you like white knuckles on a rollercoaster ride And scraped knees on a bicycle. I loved you like a first car wreck First hello First love I loved you like the 11th hour Like the final drought finally breaking And bringing rain I loved you like the giving tree One leave Two leave All the leaves And then winter I loved you like sleeping pill phone calls, When your voice was my favorite song I loved you like sad stories make better men And I didn’t know you were that smart I loved you like little things I started noticing Small little not-rights Like flickering stop lights in traffic I loved you like calm after the tsunami, gentle waves And can you please forgive that overreaction? I loved you like— Stop Slow And nothing I love you like the power going off Like A.I turning on, and How may I help you, today? I loved you like back pedaling on a broken bike And slippery rocks to get to the truth And Blinking lights Frustration Message flashing in neon lights and  Street after street after street I loved you like better luck next time Like I’m not feeling myself and Should have’s Maybe have’s Maybe if I loved differently here I loved you like the first seconds of sunrise The sun starts peeking over the horizon and Hope? Is that hope, already? At this time? And something quiet stirring in my chest A doe waking up from hibernation A deep breath of clean air A second genesis, and-- Stop short Free fall I loved you like nothing I loved you like still nothing I loved you like dead in a ditch, wouldn’t I know? who would have told me? I loved you like I’ll call her I’ll see if she knows where you are And then, “Hey. My phones been elsewhere. Like ‘I ended u going with her for the weekend. It’s been interesting, to say the least.” I loved you like stop. I loved you like recalibrating I loved you like not-dead Just my heart sputtering, shutting down, a kind of sick feelings and wrong I loved you like want to cry Don’t want to cry I loved you like zeroing on on anger like missiles finding a heat signature I loved you like I can play this game better than you If you don’t care I won’t care even less I loved you like I was born in a pilots seat With my finger on the trigger Like a vulture Been waiting for this kill short for ages I loved you like over prepared Bug out bag packed and ready I loved you like an old fashioned arcade game Flashing lights Wrong answer Wrong answer Wrong answer Wrong answer I loved you like nightcaps of arsenic and whiskey Like the vertigo of a tornado Like wet socks Tight chests Push pins all over the floor And screw this bullshit I loved you like done when you are Ready to jump before the plane crash lands Like I packed my life raft in my carry on Got flares and rations And I am not afraid I loved you like days Twelve days of nothing. Twelve days of silence and then This week has felt weird, not talking to you Like a bulldozer plowing through the brick wall I’d been carefully building Surprise I’m back The arcade powering up and then I loved you like round two A careful score card read between Lifelines growing and depleting with every volley of text messages I loved you like 300-word response, backspace, twenty word reply I loved you like the stop-go of a nervous driver Like this isn’t going to work Like slap in the face after punch to the stomach And “Goodbye.” Six months later, I loved you like the slow, flickering power on from an ancient computer The dial up tone And then White screen Blinking curser ‘Would you like to play a game?’ I loved you like nostalgic seasons with rewrites Like a speeding up bicycles And scraped knees and palms from flying off I loved you like the first time I’ve cried in months, Tight hugs And He doesn’t want me back I loved compassionately I loved like the abuse of compassion, and ruthless retaliation I loved like world war three I loved like bombs and mortar shells blowing up around me And trying to sleep through the night I loved like shit I knew that line sounded family And ‘I didn’t include that line as a point of conversation’ I loved like stop and go, again Go Stop It’s right Not Like wait Did you just— Hold on, a second I loved you like landmines I loved you like twisting stomach, Anger waltzing with sadness Foxtrotting with nostalgia Doing the Lindy Hop with confusion I loved like, “Buddy, you haven’t seen angry poetry, yet” I loved like, did you know I cried on my birthday? Did you know I spent more time sobbing than watching dinosaur movies? Did you care? I loved like, you didn’t care Not enough Not like the war submarines I’d sent to the front lines The offers of peace turned to handshake grenades Like explode in your face And I’ll show you what anger looks like on a woman I loved you like hate Or something very close to it Exploding in my chest In my room Filling me like panic line Do not overfill I loved you like wanting something I can’t have Like conviction that I am doing the right thing I loved you like walking out, and wishing it wasn’t the right choice. I walked away like Andersen’s little mermaid Feet bleeding from the pain of it I loved you like a leap of faith Panicked free fall And a sudden impact of disappointment As you weren’t what I knew you could be I loved you like mistakes happen When we’re young Or when we trust I loved you like screaming myself hoarse in the bathroom, Banging on the glass between us why can’t he hear me I love you like celebrating the moments you got mad Because at least you were reacting I loved you like did you text me two days before my birthday Just to be apathetic And hurt And hurt And hurt me All over again? I love you like snide remarks you are in no position to say to me Like freedom tastes a lot like magic And did you know this? Do you think you’ll ever experience it? I loved you like long story, written out Some of the piece missing Like I kind of know what happened But the subtitles are a little off So I’m not quite sure who the villains were And if the heroes won Or if Maybe Some of those characters deserved a better ending I loved like the ending of a foreign movies I have no idea what the hell just happened I loved like I really missed out on the Taylor Swift, first time around I loved you like why didn’t he care? What did he want? What could I have done better Different To get a better ending? I loved you like disappointment being the spice of growing up Getting older Getting smarter And making the hard choice To Once again Yank out the poison thorn that you stuck in me, Get myself to a hospital Sew up my wounds because you threw a grenade through the key hole And tore me apart. Getting older is not always easy And losing you was not always as hard As it should have been But on nights like these I’m still quite convinced You lost nothing when you chose her And I lost everything I loved you like realizing That you never loved me, at all.

Kiwi Foster © 5/29/19

[gershwinn]

LILI REINHART

The Riverdale babe talks Hustlers, J. Lo and refusing to be typecast for the Autumn 19 issue.

“I hope to just keep it interesting and definitely not play the same role twice,” Lili Reinhart says over the phone. “I think that would be the worst case scenario.” The Cleveland- born star, 22, has been a mainstay of the Wednesday night television since 2017, thanks to Archie Comics’ Riverdale, in which she plays high school student Betty Cooper. Hard pushed as she’d be to replicate her girl-next-door-who-brings-down-cults character from the soapy teen drama elsewhere, her next turn in 13th September’s Hustlers is a far cry from the ponytail-wearing teen.

Hitting the big screen alongside some of Hollywood’s biggest names — Jennifer Lopez, Constance Wu, Cardi B, Lizzo and more — Hustlers was born from Jessica Pressler’s 2015 New York Magazine article, “The Hustlers at Scores”. The story follows a group of women who emotionally, financially, and chemically manipulate men, drugging them with MDMA and ketamine — so they’d be happy, but also forget the details of their high-priced evening — to spend tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars at a strip club.

Reinhart originally read the script in an airport while flying from Los Angeles to Vancouver. The characters and their story captivated her – and after an hour- long FaceTime with the movie’s director and screenwriter, Lorene Scafaria, it was set. Reinhart had the role. “The synopsis of it did not do it justice,” she admits. “I was like, ‘What is this movie going to be about?’” When she realised Scafaria — writer of Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist and Seeking a Friend for the End of the World — was attached, she thought, “This is obviously much deeper than it appears to be on the outside”.

She liked that it was a story about women “trying to support themselves”. The women’s manipulation of the Wall Street money-making men in the film wasn’t “revenge” – for them, it was a means of survival. Whether it was to finance themselves, their grandparents and kids, or to take back what they thought belonged to them from the club, the hustlers wanted to redistribute the wealth. Ringleader Ramona’s excuse? Wall Street robbed the world in the 2008 crash, and most got away with it. And when you put it like that, well, it’s hard to argue.

Reinhart’s character Annabelle joins the scheme working with operation bosses Ramona (Lopez) and Destiny (Wu), as well as Mercedes (Keke Palmer). Annabelle is attracted to the “sisterhood” after being shunned from her own kin when they find out she’s a stripper, but the operation is uncomfortable for her – she throws up from all the mischief. “She was written as being the baby of the group, which she is,” Reinhart explains. “She looked to the other girls to take care of her a little bit. She clearly could take care of herself, but I think she certainly wasn’t the ringleader Ramona was. She let Ramona take her under her wing.”

Annabelle continues her participation with the crimes and gets caught up in her new “family” and the wealth her job brings. “She settles comfortably into this dangerous path of drugging these men, maybe not necessarily understanding the full consequences of what she was doing,” Reinhart says. “It was fun to play someone who doesn’t have their shit together… I was like, ‘This is a great opportunity to be a part of a film with a bunch of women who are experienced that I can look up to and a big feature film that I can play this naive, clueless girl.’”

Likeable as the characters are, Reinhart’s aware that sympathy is where the road to reason ends. “I don’t think you can ever sit back and defend these women for doing what they did,” she says. “You can understand, but you can’t go as far as justifying or defending it. What they did is illegal and wrong.” Not that that makes an underdog tale any less intoxicating (literally, in this case).

In a word, Reinhart’s more low-key than her Hustler ’s counterpart, using her time in NYC to “learn how to take the subway”, shop for vintage clothing, and get ice cream at 2 a.m. “I went to the Playboy Club,” she says, reminding me of her character momentarily. But it turns out her trip to the house of Hef was actually for Hustlers’ wrap party. “It was a little too loud for me,” she politely adds.

Pretending to be a girl who enjoys the club scene was a rather more enjoyable experience for Reinhart. “I really just had a good time being around the women and learning to be in a different environment, because I hadn’t done a film where I played a significant part for a while,” she says. “It was really nice to be on a film set again and Lorene as a director obviously was really wonderful in allowing all of us to share. It was very collaborative.” Scafaria encouraged the actors to ad lib and be a creative part of building their characters into more fully-realised people.

Though Reinhart feels like a staple on screen by now, Hustlers is actually the biggest film role she’s ever taken on. Understandably she’s excited about how people will react to seeing her in a different setting. “There’s so much hype for it,” she says. “[I’m] proud to have been a part of something like this, that was on such a big scale. I mean film is where my heart lies.” She adds, “There’s nothing quite like seeing your face in a movie theatre.”

Reinhart will see her name on screen not only as an actor, but as a producer too on her next movie, Amazon’s Chemical Hearts, due for release in 2020. Filmed right after Hustlers, she got in on the behind-the-scenes action as an executive producer. “That was really a passion project of mine, which luckily came together [timing-wise],” she says. “It’s cool to spearhead your own projects and really build something from the ground up. It makes things so much more special. You really just have such a drive to make things the best that they can be… I’m definitely going to try to be having more producing credits from here on out.”

She added buying a house in Los Angeles to her to-do list, too. Reinhart has lived in Vancouver for the last three years while shooting Riverdale but has had her heart set on LA since she first visited at 12 years-old. “I was just so in awe of the entertainment industry and how so much seems to be happening in that city,” she describes. “It was where the big movies were made, where the movie stars lived, where such history was, and film and television… It was a hard pill to swallow when I knew that I had to move to Vancouver to be on Riverdale because I had worked so hard and so long to make it to LA.”

I tell her she seems to be one step ahead of most of us 20-somethings (myself included) who are still trying to trace their trajectories. “I’m also still very much figuring things out,” she humbly replies, in what I’ve come to realise is a typically understated Lili fashion. “I know what I want, but I have no idea where I’m going to end up in a couple years… Things could go terribly wrong. Who knows?” Currently shooting season four of her hit show, and with Hustlers in theatres now, from here it looks like Reinhart’s name is only going to keep rising, with her feet planted firmly on the ground.

Source: Wonderland

[roseoilmuse]

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫

Summary: Ares Trevino finds out he’s going to be a father, and instead of being responsible, he decides to do everything in his power to forget his current reality, while also ruining his life in the process Characters: Ares Trevino, Aspen Spader, mentions of Eulalie LaVelle and Persephone Trevino, Joy Pepper) Setting: the Trevino mansion, Aspen Spader’s storage unit Word count: 1,583 Trigger warnings: mention of drug use (marijuana, cocaine, heroin), mention of selling of drug, mention of mental illness (bipolar, disassociation), mention of sexual activity

It is Saturday, June 27th.

An intimacy, attention starved Ares Trevino has just experienced his very first episode of disassociation. He has hardly even regained cognizance, a ringing starting to build in his ears, but he can faintly hear the cries of his girlfriend, followed by the soft coos of his sister. The fog of his mind was strong, but still his flight instincts told him that he had to leave. Now. As his astral body snapped back into the physical, he noticed a picture in his hand, but not just any picture, this was a sonogram. Scribbled on the back was Eulalie’s handwriting.

“I’m sorry”

The small pain of a headache had started, and reading the message only made the pain amplify. His flight sense was screaming, he needed to leave, so he did. His ear rang, louder than anything he’s ever heard before as he quickly grabbed his keys and wallet and bolted out the door. Still through the ringing he heard the faint cries, and soon heard angry footsteps. Persephone was pissed, he could feel her energy, which pushed him to practically gallop down the stairs. He didn’t say anything to anyone, just started booking it to his car, having a push to start so it was ready to go before he even stepped foot in. The only trace of Ares was the sonogram, with Eulalie’s handwriting, sitting on the floor of the sitting area of his room.

He drove aimlessly, his goal was to get as far from home as possible, as far from whatever reality his mind decided to separate itself from. The engine roared angrily as he bobbed and weaved in the afternoon traffic, cutting people off, and gunning the engine at yellow lights to barely make it. The ringing in his ears had subsided, but the slight numbness from the heavy episode of disassociation felt like weights. He was halfway through a joint and felt nothing. He remembered he had bought an eightball of coke and left it in his glove compartment, so he went for that, just spilling some onto the webbing on his left hand and snorted it. Nothing. 

More. 

Snort. 

Nothing.

Nothing. Nothing. He felt nothing, his whole face was numb and the drip was making it practically impossible for him to even take a full breath in. He needed something better.

“Maybe it’s cut?” He asks himself out loud, though he knew it was a lie, the guy he went through, Aspen Spader, hands down, has the best drugs money can buy, and that’s who he needed to see. Luckily he was always a phone call away.

Aspen knew what it meant to see the name Ares Trevino flash on his phone screen and In a matter of minutes, Aspen set up a rendezvous spot for them to meet. It was a storage unit, as per usual, that Aspen had set up for moving his bigger weight. Being that Ares was already a loyal customer, he trusted Ares enough to directly come to the source, to a certain extent. So there Ares finds himself pulling up to the outdoor unit, and Aspen motioning him to quickly come in. He’d been there once or twice, Ares knew, don’t touch anything unless asked to.

It seemed Aspen was just having a chill day, the plumes of marijuana and tobacco hung in the air. Aspen explained to Ares this was something he considered an after hours journey, but still he figured they could chill for a bit and get a little fucked up.

He watched anxiously as Aspen laid all the little pills, and powders, flower and oil, carefully setting them in parchment, or filling up various sized baggies, weighing them, and reweighing them whilst also passing Ares a joint, or a blunt, or whatever else they were getting into. Aspen could feel his anxiety. Ares could feel Aspen feel his own anxiety, and though, by choice, Aspen never delved too much into either of their personal lives, he almost felt like he should.

“You okay, dude?” Aspen raised a brow over to Ares, his tone wasn’t nearly as serious as the loaded question, even his expression was light, but Aspen knew he needed to get something off his chest.

“Huh?” Ares was still in a bit of a haze, and while the drug didn’t help, he knew it was more than just that, “oh yeah, just thinking, ya know.”

“Yeah, I can tell dude, you’re far up in your own head today,” Aspen ashed the joint, and placed it back in between his lips, “yah wanna talk about it or are you going to mope all night?”

Aspen’s words stung Ares a bit, only enough to respond sternly, “no, I just don’t even want to think, so unless you have something that will take away this shit then yeah, I actually may just mope.”

A pause, Aspen let out a chortle, handing Ares the joint, and looked as if he was weighing not only his drugs, but a suggestion. The blonde haired man visibly came to a conclusion, setting things down in front of him and moving to a rolling tool box. He dug around for a moment before pulling out a white baggy. The glint in his blue eyes made Ares feel almost hopeful for a solution. The bag soared through the air as it was tossed from one side to the other, Ares luckily catching it, knowing that whatever it was, it had to have a bigger value than most.

Ares stared at it long and hard, feeling as if he stared any longer he might burn a hole straight through it. Cocaine? He thought to himself, pushing his shaggy dyed, black hair out of his face, I already did this today and it didn’t help. His disappointment was palpable, though he continued to stare because he wasn’t one to turn down free drugs.

“Heroin,” Aspen told him, crossing the room back to the table of various drugs, hardly making eye contact, acting far too cool for what he just tossed the younger boy.

“Heroin,” Ares echoed, holding it up to the light. He could tell them it wasn’t cocaine. It looked more powdery, even more… tempting.

“Only if you want to try it,” Aspen again spoke with such calm demeanor it was almost unsettling to Ares.

He questioned his next move hard, though in real time it was a matter of seconds. There were always cautionary tales about heroin, but then again there were cautionary tales about every single thing he ever ingested, ranging from marijuana to even sugary sodas. What harm could it really cause?

His curiosity got the best of him, and before he knew it Aspen was making two little lines for the both of them. It shocked him how little one was, while the other was bigger, it wasn’t even significant. Aspen snorted the bigger line up, and immediately his eyes glossed over, the blues turning practically fluorescent. They were beautiful, even Ares could admit that, to himself though, not out loud.This made his curiosity peak even more. So he leaned in, and sniffed the table.

There was an instant rush. All the hairs on his body stood at a point. The warmth, the relief, the absolute bliss…. No.

The 𝕖𝕦𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕒.

Ḩ̸̩̰͍͕̣͓͉̕E̷͖͈̋̉̐A̶͓̲̜̭̩͖̮͍̔͛̽͊͘V̴̙̻͕̠̲̹̦̠̜͖̅E̸̢̢̡͍͎̩̣̘̿̽̑̅̈̓̕N̵̛͚͋

It is Thursday, or Friday… Maybe Saturday?

He couldn’t remember, all he could process through the heroin haze was the heat. A July kind of hot… or maybe it was an August kind of hot. Whatever time of the year it was, his world was his own. Right now his main domicile was his expensive sports car. He was splayed out in the reclined drivers seat. The light beamed through the heavy smoke as he hotboxed his car, slowly smoking his joint. What little light came through kept his almost fully closed eyes from shutting. Ares had no idea where he was physically, but his body swam through the euphoria of his new true love.

White China heroin.

It is Tuesday, September 1st.

A girl by the name of Joy seems just as desperate for human affection as Ares is. He was thankful for that. She didn’t even seem to notice how strung out he was, driving to his house. Sneaking her in was no problem. Ares went in first, greeted his mother, grabbed a water-- two, he claimed to be thirsty. Oh he was.

Opened his window.

Crawled out.

And brought her inside. Even in the car when he picked her up, he wanted him. He never understood this. She was actually really nice, beautiful, and seemed nervous so what was Red Riding Hood doing shedding her robe for the Big Bad Wolf?

Shed she did, and Ares realized the heroin made him more carnal than ever. Joy was elated. And after September 1st,

The whole month of September he spent in bed with Joy, alternating smoking and snorting heroin. He smoked in his room all day, even the air purifier couldn’t clear the smell completely. He only left his room for Door Dash, or Uber Eats, or whatever food delivery system that made it so he could never leave. He laid in bed, with Joy, buying her whatever she wanted, and pretending to listen about her fucked up family and her fucked up life. He could have cared, but the heroin made him so detached from reality, there was no such thing as care.

Only 𝕖𝕦𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕒.

Only Joy.

Only heroin.

Only,

Ḩ̸̩̰͍͕̣͓͉̕E̷͖͈̋̉̐A̶͓̲̜̭̩͖̮͍̔͛̽͊͘V̴̙̻͕̠̲̹̦̠̜͖̅E̸̢̢̡͍͎̩̣̘̿̽̑̅̈̓̕N̵̛͚͋

[avengerscompound]

The B-List Avenger - 3

The B-List Avenger: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist // PREVIOUS

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  2290

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Action, Injuries, Angst, Pregnancy, Smut (vaginal sex)

Synopsis: After an explosion in your building, it’s up to Hawkeye to get you and your daughter to safety.  There might be worst ways to get to know someone.

Chapter 3: Positive

Clint Barton isn’t perfect.  Pretty far from it actually.  He stays out late only crawling into bed in the early morning where he’ll end up sleeping until the afternoon when it’s at its worst.  He drinks coffee like there is no other liquid on the face of the planet.  He tries to pretend he's anti-social.  He’s occasionally grumpy.  He had real issues with commitment.  Every now and again intimacy too.  His job is downright dangerous and means he could just disappear for weeks at a time with no contact at all.  He eats like shit and sometimes he just turns his hearing aids off so he didn’t have to talk to people.

He is all these things and he is good.  Clint Barton is one of the best really.  Selfless and kind.  Everyone is more important than him in his own mind.  On the important things, you could count on him.  He is talented.  So talented that he’s the only one of the Avengers that was just a person.  Tony, Rhodey, and Sam have the suits and Nat has received a shittier version of the Super Serum that enhanced her strength and reflexes.  Clint is just a guy who’s learned how to shoot a bow and arrow in the circus.

Most importantly he’s really trying.  Yes, he had past relationships end because he bailed as soon as things got hard.  Yes, he’d even had relationships end because he cheated on them.  Those things were inexcusable, but he was trying.  He owned up to his mistakes.  He was trying to correct them, and when you spoke to his exes they still liked him despite that.  Because you didn’t have to go deep to see he was good, and the good went right down deep to his core.

So despite the warnings from others, you gave him a shot.  It sometimes meant things went two steps forward one step back.  But you were patient and he was trying.  He stayed honest and open.  He didn’t run from his feelings.  The relationship had started in the hard spot and as you became more settled and comfortable with each it seemed to just get easier.

The thing that really sold you on him though, was how he was with Alexis.  He got that you were a package deal.  He knew how hard she’d take it if he did something stupid.  That breaking a child’s heart was something entirely different to breaking an adult’s.  He didn’t overstep lines with her either.  You were her mom, and he was your boyfriend, not her dad.  He listened to her when she had things to tell him and spoke to her without talking down.  When he had a backward step he made sure you both knew he wasn’t running.  It was kind of amazing really.  You’d never met a man that had been so adult about the fact you had a child.  Sometimes you would look at them and see this future where she did call him dad and not Cwint.  Where there were no more back steps.  You were a family and really happy.  A year into the relationship and while you aren’t rushing anything, you feel like that is closer to reality than not.

So why do the two red lines on the pregnancy test you hold fill you with such dread?

You still don’t know what happened.  You are so cautious.  You’re on the pill.  You have an alarm set on your phone so you never miss it.  When the first symptoms showed up you even double-checked to make sure you weren’t going crazy.  You definitely didn’t miss it.  Besides, you always used condoms.  After Alexis, you wanted to make sure any future pregnancies you had were intentional.  This shouldn’t have happened.  How on earth are you the most fertile person on the planet?

You throw the test in the trash, burying it down deep so no one found it by accident.  There is nothing for it.  You are going to have to tell Clint.  The sooner the better, before all your options are taken away from you.

You wash your hands and splash water on your face before heading out into the living room.  Alexis is sitting on the floor watching cartoons.  “Hey, Lexi.  You ready for playgroup?”

Alexis gets up and toddles over to you.  “Ready, mama.”  She says holding her arms out to you.  You pick her up and gather up her things and head out to the car.  On the drive to her childcare center, you call work and tell them you aren’t coming in today.  After you drop her off you call Clint.

“Hey, babe.”  He says in greeting.  “Everything okay?”  His voice sounds cheery but forced.  You’re calling when you’re normally busy.  In the world he lives in, that means something bad has happened.  He’s just trying not to give in to that fear.

“Fine.  Skipping work, you okay with a visitor?”  You ask.

“You’re sure that nothing’s happened?”  He asks, sounding somewhere between suspicious and panicked.

“I’m fine, Lexi is fine.  You wanna see for yourself, I’ll be there in about half an hour.”  You assure him.

“Yeah, okay.  Just got in from training, I had nothing else particularly going on today.”  He answers.

“Cool, cool.  I’ll be there soon.”  You say.  “Love you.”

“Love you too.”  He says and disconnects the phone.  It took a while to get to the ‘I love you, phase.’   All the people who he was closest with assured me that that was normal.  When he started saying it though, he never stopped.  Like it was a relief that someone didn’t reject it.

You drove down the long drive into the Avengers Compound and pulled into the guest car park.  Clint was striding out the front to see you.  You got out of your car and approached him shaking your head.  “I’m fine.”  You say, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Sorry.  Just… you never just skip work.  It’s weird.”  He says as his arms close around you.  He nuzzles into your neck and breathes you in for a moment.

You stroke your hands down his back and sigh.  “Okay, don’t freak out, but there is something.  We need to talk.”

He lets you go suddenly like you just burned him. “Aww, no… you can’t just drop a don’t freak out and expect me to not freak out.  I’m freaking out.”

“Clint, stop.  Come on.  Let’s go inside.  Somewhere private.”  You say

His shoulders slump, and he turns and starts making his way back into the compound.  “Aww… you’re breaking up with me.  I’m going too slow again.  I know I’m dragging my heels but I just…”  He turns to you suddenly.  “Please don’t break up with me.”

You put your arm around his waist and move him along again.  “It won’t be me breaking up with you, Clint.”

“What?  What does that mean?  What did you do?  Oh god.”  He babbles.

You decide it’s best to just get him to his apartment.  When you get inside you sit and Clint just paces.  “Did you cheat on me?  Is that it?  Who was it?  Was it someone I know?  Was it Tony?   Aww man, it was Tony wasn’t it?”

You groan and rub your hair and groan.  “I didn’t cheat on you.”

He turns and looks down at you.  “Then what is it?”  He pleads, getting down on his knees in front of you and putting his head in your lap.

You run your fingers back and forth through his hair and take a deep breath.  “I need you to try and stay rational.”

“I can’t promise that at all,”  Clint mumbles into your lap.

You continue to stroke his hair.  “I guess… You see… Ugh, why is this so hard?”  You take another breath and lean down resting your head on his.  “I’m pregnant.”

He scuttles back from you like you just threatened to break his neck.  “What?  You’re what?”

You had expected this.  This is Clint.  He doesn’t do change.  He doesn’t do commitment.  Still, it hurts.  It hurts that the first man you’ve allowed yourself to love, who is so good with your daughter’s first reaction is to run.  “Clint.  Please.”  You say, trying not to express how hurt you feel.

“But… but… we use protection.”  He says looking up at you.

“Yes, we do.  Two kinds. I don’t know what happened.”  You say keeping your voice calm, even though you really want to start crying.  “Please come back over here.”

“It-It’s mine?”  He says not moving.

That does it.  After already assuring him that you hadn’t cheated it breaks something in you.  You feel rage first, your hands balling into fists.  Your nails biting into your palms.  It passes quickly and you just feel alone, let down and incredibly sad.  You try to hold back the tears but it’s useless, you start to cry and just let your head fall into your lap and sob.

Clint is at your side immediately, hugging you and rubbing your back.  “I’m sorry.   I know.  I don’t know how to react to this.”

“Neither do I.  I don’t know what to do, Clint.  Tell me what I need to do?”  You plead.  He pulls you against him and strokes your hair, his lips pressed against the top of your head.  “You’ve accused me of cheating twice now.”

He groans, but his arms tighten around you.  “I don’t understand why you’re even with me.”  He says softly.

“What do you want to do?”  You ask, almost in a whisper.

He shakes his head.  “What do you want to do?”

“I asked so I could figure it out.  When I had Alexis, I was so confident.  I don’t even know who her father is.  I was just, I can do this.  Fuck it, I’m going to be a mom.”  You explain.  “I love her, and I don’t regret it.  But it’s hard.  I don’t think I can do it alone again.”

“You won’t be alone.”  He soothes, his voice shaking just a little.

“Really, because the word pregnant came out of my mouth and you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”  You snark.

He falls back on the couch and rubs his eyes.  He opens his mouth to speak a few times and then closes it again.

You sigh and move away from him.  “I guess… I guess I should terminate.  It’s too much pressure.”

Clint looks up at you.  “That’s not what you want though is it?”

You shake your head.  “I want us to be a family, Clint.  I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.  How you are with Alexis, you’re a natural.  But if you aren’t ready, we can’t force it.”

Clint looked down at his hands and picked his fingernails.  “I really love you, you know?”

You nod without looking at him.  “Sometimes that’s not enough.”

Clint groans again and pinches the bridge of his nose.  “I’m really bad at this.”

“Yeah.  I know.  It’s not your fault.”  You say and rub his thigh.

He sits back up.  “You know… you know, I think I’ve been able to do this because you had faith in me.  I’m … a piece of shit… but I want to not be.”

You take his hand and kiss the back of it.  “I can’t fix you, Clint.  No one can fix another person.  You were doing it on your own.”

He looks at you for a moment not saying anything before lunging forward and crashing his lips into yours.  You hesitate for a second before giving in to him.  He kisses you with a need and hunger that takes your breath away.  You wrap your arms around his neck and run your hands through his hair and down his neck.  He pulls back leaning his forehead against your head.  “I think… I want that.  For us to be family.”

“Think?”  You ask, your hands still stroking down his neck.

“Know.  Don’t … don’t get… can we keep it?  Can we have this baby together?”  He asks.

“Are you sure?  We still have time to decide.  You can think about it.”  You say gently.

He drops to his knee in front of you taking your hand in his.  “Positive.  Marry me?  Let me show you and marry me.”

You laugh.  You don’t mean to, but you do.  When it comes he looks like you stabbed him in the heart.  “Oh, honey.  No.  I love you but one massive step at a time.  I’m not going to agree to marry you if you ask just because I’m pregnant.”

He looks at you like a puppy that you just accidentally kicked.  “But- but I love you.”  He says.

“I love you too.”  You say cupping his jaw.  “So much.  You are a good man, Clint Barton.  But one big thing at a time.”

“Can we move in together at least.”  He said.

You smile down at him and lean in rubbing your nose against his. “That we can do.  You sure?”

He let out a sigh of relief.  “Positive.”

“I love you.  You know that right?”  You say.

He nods, his blue eyes meeting yours.  “I know.  I don’t know why you do.  But I know you do.”

“And I have faith in you.  You can do this.  But the stakes have just gone up.”  You say.  “You can do it though.  I know you can.  Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

He nods and his hands caress over your stomach.  “Nat is going to lose her fuckin’ mind when she finds out.”

You laugh and kiss his forehead.  “Yeah.  We’re going to get a lecture about birth control.”

Clint laughs.  “Nah, that’s coming from Katie.”

// NEXT

[themusicplayedherlife]

Full House

2. “Why am I here, anyways?” & 3. “And who are you again?”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

characters: reader, jemma s., daisy , elena r., mysterious stranger?!

word count: 1.8k

summary: i’ve combined ch 2 &3 because why not? thank you guys for the interest in the first chapter ;w; i wasnt really expecting much, but just knowing some of you like it was really heart warming ;w;

previous || all || next

The liquid sloshes back and forth as you twirl the glass in your hand before throwing it back. You ignore the burning in your throat and slam the glass back down for another refill.

“Wow. Been a while since you’ve pounded back a straight shot of vodka,” Daisy whispers bewilderedly, bottle of squirt in one hand and another glass of the clear liquor in the other.

She’s not the only one staring at you like that; Jemma is too. She blinks owlishly as she says, “Their divorce must be really bothering you.”

Elena pushes back Daisy’s arm holding the soda, stopping it from over filling her cup. “No shit,” she mumbles earning a swift slap to the arm from Jemma.

“It’s not the divorce that’s bothering me, it’s the fact they got one without any one of us noticing!” You assert, more forcefully than intended and swipe the bottle of vodka from Daisy’s hand to fill your cup. “Someone from the courthouse would have told us!”

Jemma winces as you once more throw back another—or maybe three—shots of vodka. She gently coaxes the bottle out of your hand and you let her take it from you. “Right, maybe let’s take these slow? You and vodka don’t exactly mix well.”

You slump in your seat. “Two years. Two fucking years and they tell us now?”

“Did they tell you why they hid it for so long?” Jemma asks soothingly, trying to ease your frayed emotions.

“No,” you say with an exhale. “They didn’t get the chance to because we had to rush to the emergency room.”

“What? Why? Are your parents okay? Why didn’t you call us?” Jemma asks.

“They’re fine,” you say. “It was Michael who got hurt. He was playing with the girls and saw that Cassie was about to fall into the pond and broke her fall. Got a mean fracture in his foot.”

Daisy takes a sip of her drink. “Yikes!” You nod, rubbing your left arm. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Going to be in a cast for a while, though.”

Jemma grimaces. “Tough. So your parents weren’t in the mood to explain after that or...?”

You sigh, eyes roaming away from your friends. “No, my parents stayed home while the rest of us went with Clint and his family to the hospital.” And that was yesterday

Elena perks up at that, pausing mid drink to narrow her eyes. “You just left your parents alone at the house after that bomb?”

You wince at the accusatory tone in her voice; that’s exactly what you did.

It was a complete mess.

Everyone was running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Michael and Cassie were crying and apologizing to each other all the while Lulu was cackling. It took Natasha delegating for everyone to finally get their heads on straight and get everyone out the door. Well, almost everyone.

“We’re coming with you!” Your dad had said, moving quickly to grab his keys off of the rack on the wall.

“No!” You startled at the force behind Clint’s voice. Your eyes wide as you stared at your older brother’s stern expression. It had taken you completely off guard. He was usually so calm and collected, never letting things get to him.

“But—“ Your mom started, hoping to convince him.

“No,” he repeated, voice softer, but strained. “You can’t just-“ he lets out a frustrated sigh-“ we need time to process what you just told us and we can’t do that when you’re hovering over us. Right now, the most important thing is focusing on Michael.”

“Clint—“

He turned away from them and all you could do was follow after him, ignoring your parents with a heavy heart.

“We’ll see you at the hospital,” Pietro told them after they settled in the car with Natasha as the driver, Clint in shotgun, and the kids in the back with Scott. The three of you waited until the black SUV pulled out of the driveway before heading towards Pietro’s beat up corolla.

“Kids…” Your mom‘s worried voice caused you to pause, unsure whether to answer or not. Were you guys being unfair to your parents? Maybe. But Clint was right. All of you needed time to process the situation, and them being around you would not help at all.

You shared a glance with the twins and with a reluctant sigh, Wanda turned to them with a neutral smile and said, “I’ll… I’ll call you later to update you guys.”

Still, needing time to process doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt turning your back on your parents.

You steal Elena’s drink before she can take a sip and down it, the bubbly drink mixed with vodka making it hard to swallow. “It’s all types of fucked up, isn’t it?”

You feel heavy, body leaning right and then left, never being able to stay straight. Your head is in the clouds and all you can picture is home where your family is waiting for you. “Home,” you whisper. But you’re not home, you’re in a cold place, where the seating is uncomfortable and you’ve hit your head on something sturdy a couple of times.

“Are you okay?” Worry laced into a deep voice asks. He sounds nice, warm even. Is it dad? Or maybe one of your brothers? He repeats his question, a little louder and even more worried.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” you whine. “I don’t know.”

He asks you something else, but you can’t really hear him. There’s a buzzing in your ear that overtakes you and you can’t help but let it sway you. It’s a sweet lullaby.

“Why am I here, anyway?” you ask the air. When you should be home in your bed and warm.

The last thing you feel are warm arms wrapping around you.

Groaning, you turn under the heavy restraint of a blanket. Your head is pounding; your eyes heavy as you try your best to open them against the warm rays filtering into your room. You give up. Pulling the blanket over your head, you’re suddenly engulfed by a woodsy smell—pine? Sandalwood? Ugh. No. Not thinking about it. Head hurts.

A gentle knock at the door makes you groan again. It opens with a soft creak and heavy footfalls against carpet register in your brain.

“Pietro,” you croak. “I swear to god, if you try and pick me up, I will not hesitate to hit you in the groin.”

A chuckle that definitely doesn’t sound like your brother’s responds to your mild threat and it’s enough to have you throwing the blanket off of you and sitting up quickly. Which you immediately regret. Greatly.

Rubbing at your temple, a cup of water and a hand holding out aspirin appear in your line of vision. “Here, these might help.”

With a low thank you, you take them from the stranger and throw back the small pill and chug down all of the water. It’s a nice welcome to your parched throat. “You didn’t poison me did you?”

He laughs. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before taking it?”

You shrug. “I was desperate.” Finally looking up, your tired eyes are blessed by a beautiful man; and you’re not exaggerating. He’s gorgeous! Sandy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, chiseled face covered in scruff; delicious muscular build wrapped in a red Henley and black joggers. You gasp, eyes widening. Have you died and gone to heaven? How else would you have managed to land in his bed?

His smile wavers, eyes narrowing with worry. “You okay?”

You blink once, then twice as he waits patiently for you to speak up. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine. But uh, who are you again? And how did I get-” you look around the simple room with wooden furniture and little knickknacks here and there-“here?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I found you half passed out on the stairs.”

“Stairs?” Oh, shit. You were at Daisy’s weren’t you? And you got hammered! Fuck! Wanda and Pietro must be worried sick! “My phone!”

You slap the bedding, searching frantically for your phone.

“It’s on the bedside table,” he suddenly says. At his words, you practically flung yourself to grab it, finding it connected to a charger. “I wanted to call a friend or order you an Uber or something but I realized it was dead.”

Relief fills you when you disconnect it from the charger and it turns on with a simple click. “Thank you.” Slowly, but surely, your phone begins to vibrate with incoming messages and voicemails.

Steve whistles in amazement as your phone goes off with notifications. “Wow. Your friends must be worried about you.”

Your face blanches as you read through the messages.

Wanda:

Hey, I know you’re at Daisy’s, but let me know if you’re going to stay over or if you need a ride.

Pietro:

wanda and i r worried lil sis! call us soon

Daisy:

Home yet?

Ugh drunk

Call me towmr

Can’t spell bye

Clint:

You okay? Wanda just texted to ask if you’re over at my place, and obviously you’re not. Getting a little worried here.

The Nest

Wanda:

Still not answering her phone!

Clint:

Have you tried calling Daisy?

Scott:

U think she’s lashing out? Finally hitting her rebellious stage?

Pietro:

she’s not you, scott

Wanda:

Yes! She said they all saw her schedule an Uber

Scott:

Ouch!

Wanda:

Everything after that is apparently a blur

That’s not funny, Scott!!!!!!!!!!!!

Should we call the police?

File a report?

Pietro just said we can’t because it hasn’t been more than 24 hours

Clint:

I’ll go look for her

Wanda:

Pietro and I’ll go with you

Scott:

Luis isn’t home, can’t leave Cassie, keep me updated

“Fuck,” you exclaim, jumping out of bed. “Shoes, shoes, shoes!”

“They’re by the entrance—“

You don’t let him finish, you’re already zooming past him and out into the small corridor connected to his kitchen and living room. You almost topple over his neat furniture, but somehow manage to keep yourself upright.

Just as Steve said, your flats are by the entrance, next to a full shoe rack. Slipping on your shoes, you order an Uber through the app—fuck! Your history says you did schedule an Uber last night! But if your phone died and you stayed inside, then… fuck me! You really need to stop drinking vodka.

“Be careful,” you hear Steve say as you open the door. “No more sleeping in staircases!

“No promises,” you answer back, turning around to find him leaning against his kitchen counter with an amused smile. “Thank you for not being a creep!”

The Nest

You:

Guys! I am so sorry! I’m on my way home now! But I promise I’m okay!

Clint:

You are in so much trouble!

Pietro:

look at that, baby sis is alive after all

Wanda:

You almost gave me a heart attack!

You:

I am so sorry!

Scott:

So

Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you?! Proud of you little troublemaker you!

Wanda disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Pietro disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Clint disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Scott:

It was a joke!!!!!!!

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

A Pill In Time: Chapter 0 - Introduction

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747456/chapters/62524747

Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/932662757-a-pill-in-time-ahit-psych-ward-au-chapter-0

Summary: An alternate universe where A Hat In Time [by Gears For Breakfast] is set in a psychic ward and anyone non-human in the game are human now.

Notes: The writer has done research on the mental disorders yet has trouble understanding and memorizing them, please don’t harass or insult them as they have tried to be empathetic and avoid spreading misinformation.

The perspective of the main character changes to the next character to show what the main character is really doing. 

TW: Mental disorders [Autism/Autism Spectrum, PTSD, OCD, Anxiety, Schizophrenia, etc.], the perspective of a child can be dark too, self-loathing, mentions of physical abuse [not kids fighting each other, we were kids who fought our own siblings before, unless it was physical abuse on your perspective…nevermind…], mild swearing, might be boring depending on how I write this story.

It’s a lovely morning, the sky was blue with puffy white clouds, or atleast, that’s what my switch was showing me as I play my favorite video game. My grandpa, Tim wanted to show us- me and my cousin Timmy, where he works; he is a doctor but not like any doctors I’ve met. Today looked like it was going to rain anytime soon by taking glimpses through the car window, in the reflection I saw Timmy was also bored of watching the window as he snaked a hand to the zipper of my big bagpack!

“Hey!” I yelled out, making both Timmy and grandpa Tim jump a bit. Timmy regained his position and looked away with his arms crossed, “I saw your hand on my bagpack!” I declared. He, being the older cousin, sticks his tongue out in protest “Did not!” he replies while keeping the “good guy” attitude. Grandpa just sighed and looks at both of us from the rear view mirror, me and Grandpa have the same eye color, “Timothy Jr. and Hana, stop fighting. And don’t touch her bagpack, Timmy.” He nonchalantly stated while Timmy’s eyes narrowed in annoyance as he looked at Grandpa and then at me, I was busy playing my game but listened in on them-

Timmy: “That’s not fair! I didn’t bring anything with me, besides the switch, and she gets to bring all FORTY OF HER TOYS!!”

Grandpa Tim: “She has to bring them for her own safety as all of those toys help her.”

Timmy: (mumbles) “Sometimes I think she’s pretending to have Autis-!”

Grandpa Tim: (exclaims) “Timothy Junior!! You do not say that in front of your cousin sister!”

Timmy: (quiet) “…”

…It sucks to have Autism, if I’m being honest here. You see, I was raised by my Grandpa only, and he makes sure that I have a good life, but when you’re surrounded by “normal” kids who are quick to point out a flaw you can’t control or those who are just close to you to get what you have, as far as stealing it, it gets harder as you grow up. Grandpa says that I am special in my own way, and he has met and helped those who are almost like me, so I take his word for it. Whenever me and Timmy fight, Grandpa always tells me that what makes me different from Timmy is that I have a different way of seeing the world, his way of saying that Timmy is raised differently and has trouble understanding how I feel. Those “toys” I brought along, all help to make me feel… safe, each of them are a part of my memories and it’s hard to not leave them.

“We’re here!” Grandpa tells us after a long silence, he had just parked the car next to a hedge close to a grey-white stone building, I unbuckled my seatbelt and carry my bagpack which is heavy, but I can keep it in Grandpa’s office. I held onto Grandpa’s hand as we all walked to the entrance of the building, the inside was like a quiet hospital with dimmed lights, there were nurses, security guards and janitors roaming the corridors to attend to any room in need of their services. Timmy and I looked at each other and we had the same thought: This looks like a good horror movie setting, Grandpa walks up to the first door, unlocks it and lets us in, the room looked almost identical to Grandpa’s bedroom, without the bed and a closet, there was a big wooden desk with a lot of small framed photos, a pen-holder and a goldfish bowl with a blue-red betta fish in there, “Stitch!!!” I exclaimed, I put down my bagpack on a purple beanbag and ran to the fishbowl, waving at the blue fish, I remember Grandpa buying him in a pet store when I saw him, I was so happy to see Stitch again.

Then an almost plump lady in a nurse uniform and a sweet smile peeps into the office, holding a paper bag filled with something, Grandpa greets her warmly, “Head Nurse Clara! Good to see you here, these are my grandchildren: Timothy Jr. and Hana.” Both me and Timmy waved at Clara, who smiles more, “Oh my! It’s really nice to finally meet you two! Good thing I baked a fresh batch for both of you!” She gets a paper plate from Grandpa’s office cabinet and out of her bag was a pile of cookies, the smell danced around the room and I was jumping on my tippy toes, wanting to hop on top of the desk and snatch all of the cookies for myself. Grandpa and Clara laugh softly at my reaction while Timmy rolls his eyes, Clara gives the plate to both of us and the next 5 minutes were a blur as me and Timmy eat the cookies and watch me play the game in his switch. Grandpa and Clara had left the room previously for work, leaving us in the office; as I finished the game, I noticed that there was one more cookie, so of course, I take it and took a bite of the scrumptious treat, Timmy looked at me with what I can guess was betrayal. “I wanted that last cookie!!! How could you?!!” I jolted, looking at Timmy with surprise, he storms off to the office door and slams the door shut, making my ears ring from the loud bang. I really didn’t mean to eat the last cookie, I can’t help it…

Timmy didn’t come back, so I went outside to see him leaning against the wall, with his hat brim covering his eyes, he got that grey hat from his dad, my uncle; he and Timmy’s mom are always busy, leaving Timmy with me and Grandpa. I walked towards him cautiously, this wasn’t the first time he gets mad, the last time ended with me getting an arm-brace and bandages while he got bruises and was grounded for 2 weeks. “T-Timmy…? I’m really sorry for eating the last cookie…I didn’t know you wanted it first…” I shakily said, hoping for him to yell at me and cause a scene, so that Grandpa could rush to us and calm everything down, Timmy raises his head to reveal his eyes, they also match Grandpa’s eyes…”That’s okay, it’s just one cookie! You really like cookies, that’s all.” He replies, shrugging everything off, leaving me surprised. He patted me in the back reassuringly with an off-putting smile, he notices my hands that have chocolate smudges and cookie crumbs, “You should wash your hands, Hana! Wouldn’t want to get the switch dirty, or ruin your fun with the treasure hunt!” He had this unusual tone when he mentioned a treasure hunt, yet he saw how my eyes widened more, he smiles more and chuckled. “A treasure hunt?? You were planning a treasure hunt??” I asked with excitement, I hopped on my toes again with delight, Timmy nodded and again asked me to wash my hands again, “After you wash your hands, count to one hundred, okay?” I looked at him confused, I asked why, “To find the perfect spot to hide the treasure, duh!” I naively giggled at his answer and rushed to the restroom, beginning to wash my hands, just the thought of something exciting finally happening while in Grandpa’s hospital.

Timmy’s P. O. V.

As I watch Hana rush to the restroom, I set my plan in motion, ‘I’ll show that dummy that she shouldn’t get nice things…! She’ll pay for making my switch dirty with her grubby hands and eating my cookie.’ I thought with a smirk as I open her bagpack she carried so dearly on her back. I looked at all of her toys, which were in fact just really weird looking gadgets, especially a really heavy blanket and a top-hat shaped toy with a turnkey on the band, I didn’t waste time to look through all of them as I carried the bag, ignored my breaking back and ran everywhere to hide all the toys, even the other 2 floors above the ground floor. Good thing this ward has elevators, or Hana will punch me more badly if I get caught, like the last time we fought…I shudder at the thought of being grounded for more than 2 weeks. Luckily, I knew this ward, inside and out to know where to put these toys in.

Hana’s P. O. V.

I washed my hands but in the process, got my sleeves wet, so I used many paper towels and a hand dryer for a long time, then I start the countdown from 1 to 100, but I messed it up twice, till I finally get to one hundred. With adrenaline pumping into my veins, I rush outside but saw Timmy nowhere, he might be in the office, I thought, and I entered the office and found to what I can describe as a soul-fleeting moment, my bagpack…it’s empty!!!! All my comfort toys are gone!!!! All forty of them!!!

Timmy’s P. O. V.

I hid in another restroom close to the one Hana went in, and felt a small tinge of regret when I hear her scream of horror…Nah, she’ll be fine…right? …I’m so gonna get grounded…A cold sweat fell from my covered forehead when I hear Hana’s stomping footsteps exit the office.

“YOU’RE DEAD, TIMOTHY!!!!!!” a loud Valkyrie shout boomed across the corridors.

…Yep, I’m grounded. So I stayed in the bathroom.

Hana’s P. O. V.

I was beyond mad at Timmy for not just opening my bagpack but for also touching AND HIDING MY TOYS THAT HAD SERVED COMFORT TO ME FOR A LONG TIME, ALL BECAUSE OF A COOKIE!!! I’ll kick his butt when I see him, but I kept my main objective: Find all 40 of my comfort toys before we leave, I can’t let Grandpa know because I want to hunt Timmy myself. I marched through the corridors, searching for atleast one of my toys.

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Notes: End of Chapter 0 of A Pill In Time. This is a testing chapter to see if I can continue on writing this fanfiction. I hope you enjoyed as much as I enjoyed typing it; if you have any thoughts or suggestions, please let me know as I would want to make this chapter friendly and well-researched with no misinformation. Terms and Conditions apply.

[nottheripperjack]

Still rising towards the dark, don't care what's down below 'Cause no one can see me and no one has to know The atmosphere is lonely and beautiful I don't miss a thing I used to know, I used to know

TASK 001 FOUND BELOW CUT....

~~JACK’S STORY~~

MANNERISMS:

What words or phrases do they overuse? 

Jack fucking uses ellipses in texts like her life depends on it. She also swears a lot. Probably too much.

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Jack is pessimistic by nature after her sister’s death. She’s striving to get better but that’s a bitter pill to swallow. 

What bad habits do they have?

What bad habits DON’T they have? She drinks a lot, or rather, she used to. She’s trying to overcome her alcohol addiction but that will... Take a lot of heavy lifting.

What makes them laugh out loud?

Honestly? It could be literally anything. Whatever it is, it has to be her type of humor. Which, let’s be real honest, is all over the place. Just like her. 

How do they display affection?

Jack is a very touchy-feely person. She calls people ‘babe’ no matter who they are. She’ll hold your hand or hug you. Hell, she’ll even snuggle her friends.

Do they make snap judgments or take time to consider?

Snap judgments only happen when its matters of herself or the lack of self-worth she believes she has. When it comes to anyone else? Hell no, you better sit down and think about all the pros and cons. 

How do they react to praise?

Cockily on the outside, not believing it on the inside. 

How do they react to criticism?

Taking it to heart and working on how to irradiate that behavior or thing that is being critiqued. 

What is their philosophy of life?

Life’s short, go fuck someone. (This has since changed).

When was the last time they cried?

When they realized their addiction had gotten the better of them. 

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Ask her on a good day, Jack would say something about her addictive behaviors. Ask her on a bad day? Jack would say that she wishes she could have taken Vic’s place.

What is their obsession?

At the current moment? Animal Crossing.

What are their pet peeves?

Snoring, loud chewing, people butting into the conversation, the list could go on. She has a lot.

FRIENDS & FAMILY:

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of?

Her family is that stereotypical American family. Consisting of her mom, dad, younger adopted brother, and herself. Extended family is all on the east coast so she doesn’t see them much. Her father is Adrian Novak, a well-known author for his mystery crime novels. Her mother is Katrina Novak, a high-school English teacher.

What is their perception of family?

She maintains constant communication with her parents and brother. Unfortunately, she doesn’t talk about her sister much at all. Jack sadly thinks her family blame her for her sister’s death but in reality, its just been her blaming herself for all these years. 

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? 

Her late sister, Victoria, was her best friend growing up until she died in a car accident when Jack was fifteen and Victoria was seventeen. She has a younger adopted brother named Bryan, who is just now entering the fifth grade. He has CP. 

Describe their best friend.

Jack has several best friends but the one she considers to be her closest confidante just so happens to be Tara Chapman. She’s her kindred spirit, her better half, and someone that she looks up to in all of the ways that she still wishes she could do with Victoria. She’s not a replacement for her late sister by any means but... She means a lot more to her than Tara probably fully realizes.

Do they have any pets?

No but they want to get a corgi and name it Bread Loaf. 

PAST & FUTURE:

What was your character like as a teen?

Before shit hit the fan? Jack was in sports. Volleyball and martial arts took up the majority of her time when she wasn’t trying to focus on school. And she really, really hated school. 

Did they grow up rich or poor?

Due to her father being on the New York Times Best Seller’s list... She grew up in a pretty good financially stable home. 

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?

Jack definitely came from a nurturing and loving home. After Victoria she disconnected with her family more than she’d admit. She mentally distanced herself from them and shut down. 

What is their greatest achievement?

Becoming a paramedic.

What was their first kiss like?

Jack was kissed by a boy named Stephen in seventh grade. Let’s just say that the second his lips landed on hers, she slapped him so hard he fell into her parent’s swimming pool.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?

Jack believes that it’s her being responsible for Victoria’s death since it was her volleyball game that she was driving towards. However, the worst thing they’ve probably done to someone they loved was let their own shit get in the way of their happiness. It happened with Ben when she didn’t believe her about the drunken kiss. And it almost happened with Riley when she chose to ignore her feelings and pretend like she didn’t care about her more than that for four years. 

What are their ambitions?

Be a mom one day. Own a corgi. Build her own home. 

What advice would they give their younger self?

Don’t go to that damned volleyball game.

What smells remind them of their childhood?

Campfire smoke, cinnamon, and Japanese Cherry Blossom perfume.

What was their childhood ambition?

They wanted to own a video game store. 

What does their five-year plan look like?

They don’t have one. Other than don’t be dead from a work-related incident.

LOVE:

Do they believe in love at first sight?

No. Jack’s far too cynical for that. She believes in lust at first sight. Or rather, she did. 

Are they in a relationship? Are they in love?

Yes, to both. Jack is in a committed relationship with Riley Sawyer, a highway patrol cop. They’d been friends for four years and finally decided to bite the bullet they’ve been dodging for that whole time.

How do they behave in a relationship?

Previously? Not well. She didn’t do relationships and the one that she had in high school wasn’t remotely healthy. Now, Jack is learning how to relationship. 

When did your character last have sex?

Last night.

Has your character ever been in love?

Twice. Once with Ben, her first love. Second time is now with Riley. 

Have they ever had their heart broken?

Three times. First was Victoria, second was Ben, and third was by herself.

Are they crushing on anyone now?

I mean. Hey boo @sonderbound​

WORK & LIFE:

What is their current job?

Paramedic at Los Angeles Fire Department

What do they think about their current job?

They love it. They are currently on suspension from March 27th to April 27th due to alcohol abuse. 

What are some of their past jobs?

Barista, pizza delivery girl, EMT. 

What are their hobbies?

Dungeons and Dragons, video games, playing guitar and singing, sketching out her future home.

Educational background?

Associates Degree. Jack tried college but it wasn’t for her.

Do they have a natural talent for something?

Helping others.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good?

Volleyball. Yeah they went to state four years in a row and won. 

MISC:

What is in their fridge?

Well, used to be alcohol. Now it’s full of food and coca cola. 

What is on their bedside table?

Alarm clock, watch, iPhone charger, change.

What kinda car do they drive, and is their car messy or clean?

Her name is Lyla and she’s a Kawasaki Ninja Crotch Rocket. So uh... She keeps that motorcycle very clean.

Do they carry a purse? What is in their purse or wallet?

They carry a wallet. It’s a tyvek Mighty Wallet that’s got a bisexual colored symbol of Wonder Woman on it.

What is in their pockets?

iPhone, gum, keys.

What is their most treasured possession?

Her sister’s silver snowflake necklace. 

~~Jack’s Jams~~ FOUND HERE

In A Nutshell

Work Out, Sweat It Out

Time to Feel Like Shit

Good Times Gonna Come

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 28)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24,  25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV 

Part 29: here

.

VIVI POV

The sky is overcast, darkening grey, blocking out most of the afternoon sun. A strong wind is funnelling around the cars and buildings, blowing hair over her face and eyes. Vivi pauses, narrowly avoiding a cyclist who appears suddenly on her left. She shuffles about restlessly, hurrying forward once the coast is clear, dodging any remaining pedestrians and drivers between her and the car park. Mystery, to his credit, takes the jostling like a champ, sitting patiently in her arms. She hates the thought of leaving him alone in the truck for any length of time, but she doesn’t have his lead and doesn’t trust him enough to just leave him outside the hospital. No matter how well behaved a dog he is, he is still a dog.

The area around the hospital is thankfully familiar enough that she can cut down a side street and reach the truck well before the estimated ten minutes are up. When Arthur had first gotten his licence, they’d spent a lot of time loitering around the open mall, none of them really having enough money to buy anything.

She places Mystery on the ground while she searches her shoulder bag for keys. A loud growl has her pausing, attention snapping down.  That’s a sound she rarely hears. Vivi begins scanning for whatever set her dog off. Of course, she immediately spots the shifty-looking man leaning up against a car on the row directly across from her. Angry brown eyes meet her blue ones. Any serious concern is stayed when the man pushes forward to exhibit a pronounced limp. Arm in a sling, with a heavily bandaged torso just visible beneath an equally ragged leather vest and jacket, this guy has been on the losing side of one to many fights.

“Hey. You got a moment?” Is grunted at her. Mystery growls. She glares, trying to seam as unfriendly as possible. Vivi definitely doesn’t have time for whatever this is.

“Saw you arrive with that dude in purple, sportin the purple hair-do. He doesn’t work at that weird-ass diner in Tempo, does he? Called ‘Pepper and salt’ or whatever.”

Okay, the angry, injured stranger is asking about Lewis. Not what she had expected.

“Do I know you?”

“No. But you might know the guy I’m after.  Goes by the name of Arthur. That ring any bells?”

Vivi turns, planting herself forward a step, giving the stranger a thorough once over. She doesn’t recognise him.  Any Tempo resident would know the name of the Pepper diner, so he is not a local. Was this a distant relative of Arthur’s? He looks nothing like Arthur, but that’s not an indicator of much.

“Who?” She plays dumb.

“Average height. Blond hair. Works at Kingsman Mechanics. Knows that dude you were just with…” The man continues, irritated, making a sharp gesture towards the hospital. Vivi is reminded that Lewis is waiting for her and that she should cut this short. Unfortunately, with all the Arthur related mysteries happening around her, she is now very curious.

“Don’t know him.” She says shortly, “But… I can pass a message to the guy I’m with if it’s about something important.” If this is a relative, then the timing suggested he’d be here for Lance. But the mysterious stranger hadn’t asked after Lance.  Only Arthur and Lewis. That’s weird.

An increasingly angry scowl, “I’m after a mutual acquaintance actually.”

“An acquaintance of Arthur’s?” How many shifty characters did Arthur know? This guy, and apparently one more? Was this guy the source of Arthur’s odd behaviour?

“Yeah.”

“What sort of acquaintance?” She pushes.

“The not nice kind.”

Why does that sound super ominous? “You want to elaborate on that a bit?”

The fact that this mysterious man is acting intentionally vague is doing nothing except increase her interest. It is almost too convenient that he is here right now. Mentally, she apologies to Lewis. Hopefully, he will be fine without her for a while longer because she is definitely going to be more than ten minutes.

There is more suspicious glaring which transitions into an appraisal.  Vivi waits expectantly, unfazed. Eventually, mystery stranger pulls out a cigarette pack, puts one between his teeth, lights it with his good arm and offers the box in her direction.

“No thanks.” She rejects promptly.

A shrug and a grumbled question follows her response. “You ever been to the old mines out near that cave system? The one a few hours drive from here?”  

“No.” Though not through lack of trying.  She had been itching to check them out for ages, but the trip always got postponed. A big source of industry, before a series of accidents forced them to close, many people swore the cave systems around the mines were haunted. The caves had been a scheduled last stop before home on their road trip. Before they had replanned everything anyway.

“Your purple friend. He ever go up there?”

“No? What does that have to do with a mutual acquaintance of Arthur’s?”

“Do you believe in the occult? Like ghosts, demons and whatever,” The mystery stranger continues, indifferent to her confusion.

“Ah, sorry?” All the theories she’d been forming, from Arthur being a member of a biker gang to on drugs of some sort, are derailed.  

“I’m tracking a demon.” A pause to inhale smoke. “A body snatcher or some sort. Tricky to pin down. They have this nasty habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends. If your purple friend has any strong connection to Arthur… I’d keep an eye out.”

“That’s crazy…Why would I believe that?” Even as she speaks, Vivi’s thoughts are shifting to her Gran. All her life, Gran had told her wild stories, spurring her on her fascination with the supernatural and mysteries. Until right this second, she has never had any real proof of any of it.  

“Believe it. Don’t believe it. Couldn’t give less of a shit about what ya do. But, possessed or not, this guy Arthur, he’s in collusion with it.” The stranger growls the final word like a curse, “So you go ask that purple friend of yours if he’s noticed strange behaviour. Like Arthur’s not himself. Keeping secrets. Lying. Actin odd. If he thinks of anything or knows where Arthur is, then give this number a call.”

A small card is shoved out towards her. It has a single phone number running across its centre.  One last scowl, an irritated grumble, and the man turns, limping away. Vivi quickly moves forward a step, reaching out to catch his arm. The wet fabric causes her to pause.

“You’re bleeding,” She states. The injury must be severe if it is soaking through leather. “There’s a hospital right there you know.”

The man pauses, shrugging her off, “Don’t got no time for hospitals.”

He gives her another hard glare, grunting, “A body snatcher jumps through physical touch. If the eyes are green…try not to look at em. Run, give me a call, it’s your choice. Now get off. Got places to be.” An aggressive step and the man is stalking away, pulling his jacket close.

“Wait. What do you mean run?”

Crap. That can’t be IT. She needs more. What did any of that even mean? Body snatcher? Demons? She’d read a dozen or so books on creatures similar. But those were all myths, legends and a few biblical tales. Nothing real…

She glances down at the card and finds it weirdly familiar. Frick, frick, frick. She recognises the number.  Hurriedly, Vivi pulls open the truck door, yanking Arthur’s shoulder bag from the where they’d pilled their belongings. The cab is a safer location for storage then the truck bed. In a rush, she rips free the stack of paper containing the referral. Amongst the pile is a plain white business card. Half crumbled from where it has been shoved into Arthur’s back pocket at some point, it has a single number across the middle. Vivi compares the two cards. The numbers match. Was this proof?  Vivi quickly reverses back down to the pavement, scanning the carpark, but the man has disappeared among the many shoppers.

Her mind cycles through a whole new avenue of possibilities. Her dad had never approved of her interest in the supernatural. Increasingly unsupportive and displeased whenever she mentioned her hobby, the paranormal-themed road trip had been an ongoing source of tension, made worse with her mom on one of her extended business trips. Vivi had been looking forward to escaping for a bit. Then the plans for the ‘supernatural’ theme had changed. She hadn’t told her dad. It would have been like admitting defeat somehow. What if there was an actual reason behind his extreme dislike?

“I’ll be back soon,” She assures Mystery, picking him up and plonking him in the truck cab. She turns to chase after the stranger, moving in the direction she thinks he might have gone. Mystery barks twice, and she ignores him. Mid-step, she pulls out her phone to dial Lewis and give him an update. In the process, she notices a stack of missed calls. All from Lewis. That didn’t bode well. Worried, she dials.

“Where are you!?” Lewis answers and he is panicked.

Vivi freezes, one leg extended. There is a long string of barely legible words as Lewis mixes English and Spanish in his rush to speak. Vivi immediately about faces, pivoting to hasten in the opposite direction, back past the truck, towards the hospital. Lewis sounds upset. Really upset. She needs to get to him.

“Lewis. Too fast. Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong?”

There is a low intake from across the line.

“Where are you?” Lewis is understandable now, but his tone still cracks a bit on the question.

“I’m on my way back…Are you okay?” She hits the main road and doesn’t bother checking for traffic, a horn blares, but she doesn’t stop.

“Arthur’s not here,” Lewis confirms her fears, and then proceeds to increase them a hundred-fold, “I found the right room. Lance was admitted early this morning for multiple stab wounds. I went straight in once I knew where it was.” Another inhale. “Lance is…was…I don’t know …he wasn’t breathing. I hit the emergency call button because not breathing is definitely a bad thing.”

The hospital entrance looms over her, “What do you mean, not breathing?”

“A lot of doctors came rushing in. I got kicked out, so I’m not sure what’s going on, but it looked serious. How far away are you?”

“I’m approaching the entrance now.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

The phone goes dead. Vivi spares it a worried glance, running the rest of the way, hurrying past the security guard and through the sliding glass doors. Lewis is weaving around to get to her. His height makes him easy to spot, bobbing along through the streams of people entering and exiting the hospital.

He rushes right up and into her, wrapping her in a hug, and lifting her off the ground. Oxygen momentarily vacates her lungs. The worry fire, still burning in her stomach, is almost suffocating now. Doubt and fear wiggles past her defences, settling in her chest.

“I thought you’d left,” Lewis mutters, just audible with his face smooshed into the shoulder of her blue cardigan. Vivi almost flinches. She refocuses.

“I would never do that,” She avows. Geez, she’s dumb. Of course, Lewis would be sensitive about missing calls, considering the current circumstances. “Never.”

Lewis just hums in acknowledgement.

“Sorry.” He mutters and inhales again, pulling back and freeing a hand to scratch the back of his head.  Lewis and Arthur. Two peas in a pod when it came to apologising for stuff that wasn’t their fault.

“Hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry as well. I should have called.” Should have but didn’t, too wrapped up in solving the Arthur mystery. Now she just has a bunch more questions.

“What happened with Uncle Lance?”  She asks again. They relocate to sit on the blue plastic seats which line the hospital’s foyer. No longer blocking the main entrance, she listens to Lewis quietly run through the harrowing experience of finding Lance, practically dead in his bed. He’s visibly shaken, and Vivi waits patiently while he works through the facts. Her mind wanders to that odd moment almost two weeks ago, when she’d accidentally scared Arthur on his way back from the toilet. For a split second, she hadn’t recognised the expression on his face. It had been weirdly uncanny. At the time, she had chalked it up to nausea and headaches.

‘A habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends.’  

If Lance had been admitted in the morning, then it would have been impossible for Arthur to make the attack. ‘Not breathing’ could have a bunch of rational explanations. She would need to talk to a nurse or doctor before deciding on anything. Besides, Arthur’s eyes were golden brown, not green.

‘Possessed or not, this guy, Arthur, he’s in collusion with it. Strange behaviour.’

Conjecture and coincidence.  What hard proof does Vivi have? Arthur acting out of sorts? He had been through rough patches of antisocial behaviour before. A phone number on a card? That just signalled that the mysterious stranger had met Arthur previously. More importantly, how did that tie into Arthur’s sudden Lewis aversion?

“What do you think we should we do?”  Lewis breaks her speculation. He has his hands clasped above his knees, and it is leaning forward to stare at the hallway leading towards the wards. Nervous silence prevails while they both work to possess new developments.  She fidgets on the seat, glancing about the hospital for an answer. Near the reception desk, a frazzled nurse is talking and gesturing in Lewis’s direction.

“Wait for news on Lance.” That’s all they could do. Maybe, hopefully, Arthur would make an appearance.

Part 29: here