#first i get eaten by some blob of a cat

[drbased]

Is it possible to use the symbolic states framework to interpret the motivations and emotions of celebrity worship cults or anything of that nature?

I've been thinking about this post on-and-off for some time now, and I'm going to attempt to answer it here.

I readily admit that this is all just theorising; I've extrapolated outwards the harmful nature of symbolic states based on my own experience, but I find myself struggling at where to draw the line between where something is simply 'fantasising', 'narrative/meaning-making' etc. and a full-on symbolic state, let alone where that state becomes actively dangerous for the psyche's relationship with cause-and-effect. I know religious people who have a frankly much better relationship with causality than I did.

I percieve symbolic states to be more of a symptom; an end-point of various psychological drives, rather than something as an origin point for disfunctional thinking.

I think celebrity-worship cults come from a place of dehumanisation and narrative-making that is necessarily symbolic - we as humans process the world from a top-down approach, meaning that we make a rapid assessment of the nature of something without needing to know it in full. The best example is seeing a dark blob on the ground in the dark; first you think it might be a cat, then a discarded bag, then a cat again, until you get close to it and can confirm that it is, indeed, a bag. This is a necessary survival mechanism; the 'bigger picture' must be identified as soon as possible, whereas needing to get all the details first will leave you vulnerable to being eaten. So we tend to percieve in shorthand; and all our thinking is based around this. This 'shorthand' becomes the symbols.

In the case of celebrity, we don't need to know everything about the person to feel close to them; there are enough aspects of them - their clothes, their attitude, the things the say about their life, their sense of humour etc. etc. - that we can use as symbols to make a picture of them that we can be attached to. And humans are highly motivated - our motivations warp our perceptions massively in favour of what we want to believe. So if that celebrity likes to drown puppies in their spare time, if we're motivated enough, we can either forget that detail or decide that we're actually pro-drowing puppies as well. That way the 'symbol' of drowning puppies now takes on new meaning.

So from all this I take that calling things 'symbols' is just my own fancy way of describing phenomena that have already been fully linguistically covered by other areas of psychology. Where I go a step further is to document the point where the symbols become more important on a deep psychological level than any aspect of reality itself, and how this can be harmful.

This was a very interesting question, anon, thank you - you really got me thinking about it.

[peronianomore]

There’s been a lot of rubbish doing the rounds recently about Estarossa and that goddess you all seem to like so much. Well, none of it happened. So back off, he’s mine.

[quitealotofsodapop]

MvA assorted headcanons

General:

So many years together has made the core monsters inseperable. If something affects one member, it affects the group.

All. The. Monsters. Are. Family.

It takes Susan a while to understand inside jokes and past incidents because of being the most recent addition.

There are Other anomalous creatures kept in Area 5X, but they are either non-sentient and/or are too dangerous to be kept around the more human-friendly monster group.

Area 5X is so gotdang big because they were expecting a lot more kaijus like Insecto to crop up. Sadly not many have surfaced to justify the space.

There’s a hangar in Area 5X full of wrecked UFOs. Some are spacecraft wreckage while others are stuff like weird meteors (Susan’s is in there), and at least one alien creature that got crystallised upon entering Earth’s atmosphere.

There’s significant difference in staff employed at different points throughout the past 50 years. There are far more women on the Area 5X worksheet than back in the 50s, and the guards are generally more sympathetic towards the monsters. Many modern staff members have been reprimanded or let go for failing to uphold secrecy, or for unnecessary cruelty towards the monsters.

Budget cuts were a legitmate concern up until the Battle of Golden Gate Bridge. The facility was far more barebones and sterile before the government had to formally recognise Area 5X’s importance. There have been a lot of redecorating at the facilty since the fat checks started coming in.

Putting individual characters under read due to length.

Susan:

Enjoys many hobbies considered stereotypically feminine; baking, sewing, cosmetics, etc...

Grandparents and extended family are farmers or are atleast connected to the business. Modesto is the agricultural centre of California after all. Her parents were the first of their generation to go against the mold and seek out white-collar careers.

Studied cosmetology in school and was working at a beauty salon to save up for her and Derek’s wedding.

Is very athletic and grew up doing a number of physical extracurriculars like cheerleading, dodgeball, and roller-derby.

Grew up being teased for being the shortest kid in her class/family. They still tease her for it.

Greatly fears causing collateral damage and/or harm to others through her size.

Has issues with anxiety, worsened only by her new job as “savior of earth”. She wishes for a confidant to tell her worries to.

Married life with Derek was doomed to fail. Susan had a plan in place for what came after the marriage, and focusing 100% on Derek’s career was not it. There’s also the line from Derek’s mother about Susan being “the weatherman’s wife”, implying that she was to be the homemaker and not have a career of her own. It’s possible that Susan was planning to settle down and have kids with Derek, but the lack of control she had in moving to Fresno implied that more was going on.

Is currently “taking a break” from love and dating, despite gaining many new admirers.

Tries her best to return to Modesto to visit her family and friends whenever possible, though work often keeps her away for weeks at a time.

If she retains her height-shifting abilities as in the series; Susan goes through really bad “growing” pains.

Link:

Was frozen in his relative late-teens during a cold snap. Got shifted around until he ended up somewhere in Greenland before being discovered by modern humans. Post-thaw he went a bit wild, swimming frantically back south to try and find his old enviroment.

Was one of many scrappy youngsters in his troop, with a number of adoptive parents. The strongest ruled the troop, and Link was fairly weak in comparision to the leaders. He had gotten into a fight the day of his freezing (over something silly in hindsight) and swam away to sulk. When he didn’t return after the cold snap - the troop accepted that he had likely died out on his own.

Likes to freak out humans by making up weird biology facts about his species and ones he’s fought against - like joking about laying eggs or having his tail dettach and regrow like a lizard. However there’s some things he has to ask about, because he doesn’t have medical knowledge or words to describe something.

A lot of his macho behavior came from imitating the guards who kept watch on him. 1950s violent military alpha males aren't a very good role model for someone who doesnt know what societal norms are yet. Link was a lot more insufferable back in the day but chilled out as he began interacting with other walks of life.

Has a high paternal instinct and immediately becomes softer around kids and smaller animals.

Has body language similar to a cat/alligator. Slaps his tail when angry or in deep thought. And yes; Link purrs/rumbles when happy.

Loves monster movies - especially the ones where the monsters “win”. He cried when he saw “Beauty and the Beast” and then immediately booed loudly when the Beast turned human.

Does Not Trust doctors or scientists due to bad past experiences. Will only go to Dr Cockroach and Monger if he ever gets hurt/ill. Gets stressed fast if he has to be in a waiting room or doctors office.

Link had no idea what gender indentities or orientations were until recently - he did come from a pre-human civilization that really didnt mind/care about the schemantics. It took him some time to wrap his head around it. He identifies himself as bisexual after much thought and many hours alone on the computer.

Don't press him about his body. He's built different from humans and cis people. He will punch anyone who doesnt respect his or anyone elses identity.

Has been in love before. It didn’t end well.

Will occasionally wear clothes, but finds it a challenge to find anything that fits him. Will give any shoes he finds to Dr Cockroach and BOB to eat.

The best driver/pilot out of all the monsters.

Dr Cockroach:

True name is Jaques-Yves Herbert. Prefers to just go by "Dr Cockroach" because he dislikes the association with his birth family.

Picks up human languages very easily, although not as quickly as he can understand animals.

Parents were a mixed scientist couple. His father was an aggressive “Strong British Man” that would beat him son down for not following orders or for not meeting his standards for a man. Dr C turned down both chances to attend his parents funerals.

This man isn’t straight. He probably uses old-fashioned slang when asked about romance such as; “I am Uranian” or “I wear a green carnation”. It took Susan a few times to realise what he meant, as she is used to a more open minded enviroment.

Got the idea of transforming into a cockroach from reading Franz Kafkas “The Metamorphosis” as a child. He sympathized with Gregor’s abusive situation, and began considering the possibilties of how one could survive better as a creature like a cockroach.

Studied in biology and entomology in the Uk before moving to the states to follow engineering. Obtained his degree in Dance as a “side gig” in University.

Has been barred from free access to the coffee maker/machine due to overnighters. Once stayed awake so long that he forgot the letter “R”.

Owned a terrarium of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches throughout college. He mourned each of them when his roommate’s iguana got into the tank.

Was a "beatnik" back in the day and still kinda is. Embraces and encourages modern counterculture as he himself was not given such acceptance in his youth. He has however shamefully eaten his old Lenny Bruce album.

Hasn’t actually aged physically since his transformation. He attributes this to the fact that certain athropods can’t age physically beyond maturity. Link is very jealous.

Has obtained more degrees while in captivity, as Monger allowed him access to research and learning materials. He has however had his allowances revoked for previous escape attempts/doomsday devices.

Does still enjoy human food, but the cockroach instinct of "eat detritus" tends to overrule his eating choices. Can’t cook either.

Ironically a terrible driver. The damages from previous drives has made Monger restrict him from operating even a razor scooter.

BOB:

Pretty much considers himself human. Was created by them, raised by one (Monger), and talks like one. Gets sad when he's reminded that no other humans are blue blobs like him.

Absorbed some dna from the scientists present at his "birth", leading to his eye, speech, and omnivorous diet.

Doesnt actually need to breathe (as he can just absorb oxygen through his mass) but the fact that humans Do means that BOB thinks he has to as well.

Shares some physical characteristics with tomatoes/nightshade plants, as he is technically half tomato. He refuses to eat tomatos for this very reason, considering it cannibalism.

Attracts garden pests looking for a tomato plant. This unwittingly makes BOB a pretty good bug zapper.

Still retains his "mental broadcast" ability from "BOB's Big Break" although at a more subtle level. He tends to parrot the things he accidentally "eavesdropped" on.

Is empathetic, and can tell when others aren't doing ok emotionally. Will flop down on someone who’s really sad to comfort them. No brain, only heart.

Best cook out of the monsters. If he doesn’t forget what he’s making at least.

"Whats a gender? Can I eat it?"

Insectosaurus:

Core body is that of a Japanese Silkmoth, although she ended up being spliced with other animals present on the island during her initial mutation; namely ants and ground squirrels.

Eats over a literal ton of mulberry leaves per day. Also enjoys oranges.

Secretly wishes to be more humanoid.

Was only able to pupate and transform due to physical trauma. It seems that her transformation was like a “power-up” that required her to be in geniune distress for it to activate.

First language is Japanese. She learned it from the intial recovery team, and later developed an understanding of English from years in Area 5X.

Goes into torpor in cold weather. Pretty much impossible to wake her up for missions during Winter, as she needs to “rev up” before becoming mobile.

Still very much Link’s best friend. Still enjoys sports, chicks, and beer.

Monger:

Full name is; Warren Rex Monger.

Is very protective of the monsters and will defend them to the death.

Pretty much raised BOB (as seen when BOB was a baby blob in “Night of the Living Carrots”), and considers him his “freaky gelatinous son”.

Has a reputation of being a “control-freak” due to his aggressive overseeing of the monsters’ containment. This toughness is partly because of incidents that occured without his knowledge. Lets just say some scientists have been wedgied/fired for running experiments on the monsters without Monger’s approval.

Has a very “Ron Swanson” emotional response and view of the world. Crying is acceptable only at funerals and at the Grand Canyon (if he hadn’t lost his tear ducts in the war).

Has been married multiple times. Will not confirm or deny if he is currently seeing anyone.

Invisible Man/TiM:

Legit got out but no one at Area 5X is sure how. He suffered a geniune medical emergency and disappeared after surgery. The other monsters were informed that he died from complications to deter them from getting escape ideas.

Is able to be detected in Infrared light. Dr Cockroach managed to rig up goggles to view TiM in case of injury and to foil pranks.

Was a scientist working on an invisibility potion for the military and used himself as a guinea pig. Hasn’t actually been able to replicate his results since - thinks the effect may have been caused by a genetic abnormality.

Dr Cockroach and him are massive rivals. Both actually met eachother pre-transformation through a CalTech expedition. This makes the pair one of few people that have seen the others human face.

Is 100% naked. Was forced to wear clothing once this was discovered.

A massive prankster and a cynic. Him and Link were a force to be reckoned with.

Has revisted the facility multiple times and has started a number of ghost stories.

Any additions are welcome! I proably have alot more to dump about. Might make one of the alien characters from the series

[danepopfrippery]

What We Do in the Shadows: A Rewatch Part 2

Now for the lgbtqi fans: I wanted to go down the Nandor Guillermo route. One fan asked if straights really didnt read Guillermo as gay originally. I can only speak for my boring straight ass but no I didnt. I just take TV as it comes to me, so I dont read into any of it. But unlike what I hear are some shitty reddit fans, I would strongly disagree that the vampires are straight. They have all basically openly admitted to fucking any and every gender and have bi yearly orgies (which Nadja says is ‘ok’ only lol). In fact you could even argue the only really monogamous leaning one is Nadja, as she tries to resist Jesk and never does more than kiss him. But she doesnt seem to care what Laszlo gets up to (literally any and everything) tho she did seem shocked he was dumb enough to fuck ‘anything with long brown hair’ incl Nandor (2X9). I don’t think u can really roll with this show if you aren’t open to all of that.

As for Guillermo he was the general sexless blob in season 1. Season 2 they seemed to be steering him towards women, having him reference if hed stayed at Panera he might have a gf by now. In The Curse (2X4) hes like the action hero saving Shanice. Which can we stop and discuss how ungodly awful she is as a character? I’ve enjoyed every character on this show except her. She doesnt have a real stutter, shes just really bad at speaking. And shes fucking annoying. God I hate her. He should have let her die. But hes too sweet. Thankfully thats the last we’ve seen of her since.

I remember reading an interview towards the end of Season 2 when the interviewer asked Harvey if Guillermo may get his panera bread girlfriend, or what did he want to see. He said nah, and then stated he was gay. I was a little surprised because I just never thought about it. But after that the writers seemed to go full Nandermo which hey why not?

I think Guillermo as a whole character read as just nothing especially to me was the orgy ep hes just dying of embarrassment (grew up VERY catholic) and then stated he wouldnt be partaking cuz he doesnt do anything with anyone. But then when he ran away to the fake vampire (Collaboration 2X8) he seemed...down with the orgy idea but left his dicky on at the least. BTW contrasting Shanice, the best random character is Sam the Cat and I’d like to see more of him. Of course Nandor has eaten cats so hes prbly wise to stay away. As for them as anything well, unlike the nandermo fans Im not holding much hope as an actual plot point. I’m convinced Nandor literally sees him as basically one step below Ja-han (his beloved horse). In the first ep of Season 3 Nandor is the only one to really take pity on Guillermo. He had in the past (checking in on him and trying to win him back in 2X8). He warms some raw chicken for him, keeps them all from immediately killing him for a month lol. When they decide not to kill him and four way hypnotize him, Guillermo thanks them and says he sees them as family. Nandor cuts him off and is like ‘yeah no one cares about ur life story.’ When he says his ‘promotion’ isnt much of dick, Nadja states its better than being dead and ‘bloody better’ than being a familiar. So basically to them familiars are all but dead...they think very little of them. This has been stated several times before, which also shows why before Benji we had not met a familiar turned vampire (but Nandor ONLY did it for Guillermo, which was sweet).

When Guillermo does run away again (2X10) Nadja muses this is why you don’t get close to humans, they either leave or die and muses the cameraman looks like he’ll die soon (I think he said he was 27 lol). Living for 700 years really skews your viewpoint. Nadja is prbly about 500 years old (Nandor is 700 and destroyed her village ‘200 years before she was born’) and assuming they had a familiar for at least 50 years thats 10. But they went thru 10 like in 2019 lololol so shes prbly even more jaded than the avg vampire.

Ja-han (John but basically ‘my universe’ according to people who speak Persian) was Nandor’s horse he loved so much it kept his spirit from moving on. I get it...I tried picturing being in a survival setting and having to kill one of my cats for food. I’d rather die. So hes braver than I am. (Yes Im sure my cats would eat me if it came down to it but their welcome to it).

So we basically open Season 3 on 11 years of Guillermo being there, and Nandor mostly missing him for his slave duties at first, then kinda actually caring about him. I just really vibe it as like your pet, you’re special little guy who is not on your level. I do think when S3 opens and Guillermo references codependency, I do think thats for ALL of them. Some of those assassins were nowhere near Nandor (clean more quietly Im trying to sleep!) but he still saved Laszlo and Nadja.

Its in ep 2 with the cloak Im convinced Guillermo actually realized he cares about Nandor in a more than boss/friend way. He seems shocked when Meg suggests that. What he made of those thoughts afterwards we don’t really know. But when Gail enters the picture again I think he realizes he might need to do with it sooner than later, especially when the ring is brought out. By the Casino ep Guillermo is about to state hes gay before he gets cut off.

I dont think Nandor even realized he fully was in crisis until they ascended the council. Nadja asks wtf is wrong with him, given his love of ceremony (all mail opened in the fancy room) and now hes just mush. He, like Guillermo, seemed confused. Also like Guillermo, he seemed to not look in the house, but outward.

I dont put much stock in that dick fondling scene (omfg that was a ride...and I think mostly fully had us distracted from the actual main plot point). Guillermo finds semen everywhere (2X9 Witches) and MAKES A BUSINESS OFF OF IT. He was also tasked with the orgy prep and I cant imagine Nandor put all those dildos on his own (boy theres a scene we could have used seeing lololol). Someone on here noted he had the dupe body and broke the door down as Nandor was plowing Gail. So I think dick size isnt news to Guillermo...never mind the pantsless dancing in the Gail ep. Someone also said they thought the esteemed vampires heard Guillermo and Nandor arguing (heightened senses) so the fondling scene was just to fuck with him. I like that theory...it vibes with canon. Also very David Cross thing to do.

If all the footage from the preview ad is new, I think the sexy fight scene between Guillermo and Nandor is about him proposing to Gail yet again. Because theres a shot of that and according to Nadja he does that shit all the time. Maybe Gail accepts. Guillermo would not be thrilled (guardian of his heart after all). Also frankly traveling alone is enough of a reason...this man literally didnt know how to pay at a grocery store cash wrap (first ep). How he’d make it is beyond me. I dont think he could see Delaware on his own and be okay lololol.

If there is to be any Nandermo I think it would be next season. Guillermo is his bodyguard but the vampires all constantly forget it and only rarely treat him as above a familiar (basically a slave that shouldnt be seen or heard). Guillermo would have to do something to really put him on equal footing before I think Nandor would even acknowledge that possibility. The fight could do it...someone here noted they would be pretty equally matched (Nandor has super vampire strength and Guillermo is crazy vampire killing talented). Probably one of the only times Nandor looked genuinely proud of him is when he was full vampire rampage in the finale of season 2 (look out behind you!) It was short lived tho (who cares you didnt pick up the fucking laundry lololol).

Whelp 4 more days. I’ll prbly do one more rewatch. God I love this show. Next year wont be soon enough!

[gunpowdville]

The Great Flesh-Eating Cake Incident of Year [REDACTED], Chapter 2

chapter: 2/2

relationships: Drumbot Brian-Raphaella la Cognizi (queerplatonic), Gunpowder Tim/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius Von Raum, Nastya Rasputina/the Aurora

Other things: genderfluid Tim, she/her Tim, he/fae Marius, temporary character death, possession, canon-typical violence. but mostly literally just silly self-indulgent fluff.

chapter 1

ao3

Read here below the cut >:}

The Rec Room: Tim, Lyf, Marius. All 10 still alive. (a few minutes before It is released)

Lazy days on Aurora are hard to come by, and when they do happen, they are spent most often by complaining about how boring lazy days are. Some, however, can find content in the slower days spent in relative peace and quiet. Case in point: the three currently buried in a pillow nest in the middle of the rec room floor.

The situation is this: the pillows and cushions from the furniture all stripped away and stolen to build a comfortable arrangement on the floor. Gunpowder Tim, in simply a loose blouse and leggings, hair braided elegantly over one shoulder. Lyfrassir Edda, in what is undeniably one of Tim’s waistcoats, perched in between the gunner’s legs, having their hair braided by her deft hands. Marius von Raum, sprawled across Lyf’s lap, waving his hands about animatedly as he talks.

“You left out the best part,” Tim says as Marius finishes relaying the story of how fae and Raph had joined the crew. “You forgot to mention the bit where Bri gave the two of you an actual job interview. And how, upon being asked your greatest strengths, you said, and I quote, ‘I’m hot.’”

“You did not,” Lyf looks utterly scandalized. “At a job interview?”

“You forget, love, that the job fae was applying for was being a Mechanism,” Tim points out, running her fingers through the former inspector’s hair. “The criteria is pretty much being able to play an instrument and willing to do crime.”

“Speaking of,” Marius says, batting aimlessly at Tim’s face where it peeks at him over Lyf’s shoulder. “It’s a shame that we only really have two or so songs together, Tim. We should get to sing together more.”

Tim nods in agreement. “We’re simply too powerful together.”

“I’ve been thinking of trying to get Jonny to let the three of us sing Blood & Whiskey,” Marius admits, then frowns. “Oh, wait, sorry Lyffers, I forgot you sound like a drowning cat when you sing.”

“I do not!” Lyf flushes scarlet, turning their face away from Tim’s raised eyebrow.

“You’re right, sorry, it’s more like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.”

Lyf makes an attempt to hit Marius lightly, but the violinist just catches their hand and kisses the back of it, grinning wickedly.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard you sing,” Tim says slyly, tying off the braid and leaning forward so she can rest her chin on Lyf’s shoulder. “Would you sing for me?”

“Do you enjoy the sound of a drowning cat playing a kazoo?” Lyf asks her.

“Well, not exactly…”

“Then according to Mare, you do not want to hear me sing.”

Tim pouts, showing off her mastery of sad puppy dog eyes. The overhead lights glinting off the metal make them sparkle, creating a masterfully alluring wide gaze. “Please? Just a bit? For me?”

It is next to impossible to argue with those eyes, especially once you’ve already fallen hard for the person making them at you. With a sigh, Lyf squeezes their eyes tight shut and awkwardly sings a few lines of Blood & Whiskey. It sounds, as promised, like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.

Tim manages to hold a straight face for roughly three seconds before guffawing with laughter, burying her face in the spot between Lyf’s shoulder and neck to smother her cackles.

Lyf breaks off, turning their head slightly with a gently irritated eyebrow raised at their partner. “Are you finished?”

“Sorry,” Tim gasps between giggles, nuzzling further into their neck, failing miserably at trying to stifle her mirth. “I- I just- I didn’t expect it to actually sound- like that- I’m- I’m sorry-”

“I told you,” Marius crows, grinning up at Lyf and Tim with triumphant teasing fire in faer eyes. “Wasn’t I right?”

“You two are very rude to me,” Lyf huffs, sticking their nose in the air haughtily. Tim lifts her face from their shoulder and noses their jaw, murmuring something about drowning cats and how they have never sounded more attractive. Lyf pointedly ignores her.

“Aw, hey, don’t be like that, fairytale,” Marius heaves himself into a sitting position and catches the former inspector’s face in his hands. “Y’know we’re just teasing you ‘cuz we love you, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,”Lyf sighs, giving in and letting faer kiss them.

“Sappy,” Tim comments, earning a petulant finger from Marius. “Also, fairytale?”

“They’re my fairytale,” Marius declares proudly, and Tim pouts. “What am I, then?”

“You,” Lyf contemplates, turning their head to meet Tim’s metallic gaze with their own iridescent one. “You’re my battle cry. You’re the song I sing for strength when I can’t find it. You’re my declaration to the world that I will not stand still and break. You’re the inspiration that keeps me fighting. My battle cry.”

“Well,” Tim blinks, making a valiant attempt to keep her voice steady. “Hey now. You didn’t have to go and do that to me.”

Lyf’s brow furrows, concern instantly evident in their features. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, goddamnit, you said everything right, you- fuck.” without another word, Tim fists a hand in the front of their shirt and pulls them into a kiss. “I fucking love you.”

Lyf’s (no doubt sappy as all hell) response is cut off by Marius, who groans and rolls out of their lap with a huff. “If you two are going to be like that, I’m leaving.”

“You started it,” Tim points out, “but whatever, more Lyf time for me.”

Marius sticks faer tongue out at her as fae leaves. “Go see if Bri’s made me any munchies!” Tim calls after him, before turning back to her partner with a decidedly malicious smirk. “Now, where were we?”

They are interrupted not long after by Brian, who comes barging into the room without preamble, zeroes distractedly in on the pair of them, says “Oh. Hello, dears. Have either of you seen an unidentifiable mass of sentient ooze? Slightly larger than an octokitten? It ate Marius,” and then hurries out the opposite door.

Tim and Lyf glance at each other, attempting to register his words. “Wha- Brian, what?”

But the Drumbot has already disappeared down the corridor, leaving the two of them to scramble to their feet and race after him, their questions landing on ignorant ears.

Nastya, the corridors: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

Nastya spends her lazy days with her girlfriend, most of the time. She enjoys the quieter hours when she can work on repairs, listening to Aurora tell her stories or complain about whatever is on her mind. This particular lazy day, the engineer is sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the corridors, right outside Jonny’s room, her hands deftly working at the wires beneath one of the wall panels. Aurora is telling her about a new program she and Ivy are working on, a sort of virtual reality experience for the shooting range that will ‘revitalize the excitement of warfare’, in her words. Nastya listens intently, interjecting with questions when she has them and praise when it is deserved.

As she finishes up, carefully replacing the wall panel and smiling softly at Aurora’s petulant complaints, something drops from the air vent above her. She takes a smooth step back as the thing falls to the floor with a wet thwack. At first glance it resembles an octokitten, but as it unfurls it reveals itself as more of a dark glistening lump, tendrils of gooey flesh extending across the floor toward Nastya.

“Well, hello,” The engineer says, tilting her head to study it. “What are you?”

That is the cake our Drumbot and his science officer made, Aurora answers for her. Don’t touch it.

“This is a cake?”

I believe it was supposed to be.

“And what is it now?”

Decidedly not a cake.

It’s at that moment that Ivy comes racing into the corridor, breathless and looking faintly annoyed. “Ah. Nastya. Good. Have you seen-” her eyes drift to the thing at Nastya’s feet. “That.”

“I am certainly looking at it right now,” Nastya says in response, nudging a toe forward to poke at it. Ivy throws out an arm to stop her. “Do not. Unless you want to get eaten.”

Nastya raises an eyebrow and quickly steps back, just as an octokitten meanders into the area, approaching the blob with a curious ‘mrrp’. Ivy dives for it, but the creature is much faster, latching onto the octokitten in a second. But instead of eating it, the thing seems to melt into it, turning it a darker color.

“Hm,” Ivy hums curiously. “That’s new.”

The possessed octokitten zeroes in on Ivy and Nastya, yawning wide to show a lot more teeth than should be able to fit in its mouth.

“Run?” Nastya suggests, watching the kitten start forward on uneasy tentacles.

“Run,” Ivy agrees.

Jonny & Ashes, the shooting range: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

The shooting range is one of the few rooms on Aurora that isn’t quiet on lazy days. This day is no different from any other in that regard, with the sounds of gunfire and cackling echoing from behind the wide open door. The quartermaster and the first mate are both in there, trapped in a pointless competition to outshoot each other. They have done this many times before, and who wins changes nearly every time. But it’s an excellent way to distract and relieve stress, and Jonny had noticed Ashes appearing down earlier, so he had suggested a shooting competition. He never said that he was doing it to cheer them up, but he’s pretty sure they’ve caught on to his intentions.

“I kicked your ass harder than Brian got his ass kicked in that sun,” Ashes remarks, standing over Jonny, who lies prone on the floor. Jonny groans and sits up, shoving his singed hair off of his forehead. “You cheated.”

“Says what rules?” Ashes snorts, reaching down to help him up.

“It was a shooting match, O’Reilly, not a goddamn grenade match.”

“Your screaming was hilarious, though.”

Jonny scowls and flips them off. Ashes laughs and slips another grenade into their pocket, a little something to save for later.

The trapdoor in the ceiling of the shooting range drops open, and Raphaella tumbles through, falling head over heels and landing neatly on her feet with a dancer’s grace. “We have something of a problem.”

“Yeah, Ashes just fucking blew me up,” Jonny complains, and Ashes rolls their eyes. “You’re fine.”

“You’re fine,” Raphaella says at exactly the same time, and Ashes shoots a grin at her. “Anyway, Bri and I may have done… something.”

“You may have done something,” Brian argues, breezing into the room with Tim and Lyf close on his heels. “I take no responsibility.”

“Can we please go back to the part where it ate my boyfriend?” Lyf demands, causing Jonny’s eyebrows to shoot up practically to his hairline. “Someone’s eating boyfriends?”

“The octokittens are possessed,” this is Nastya, squeezing past Brian through the door, tailed by Ivy.

“Possessed?”

“Possessed,” Ivy confirms, to Brian’s incredulous outburst.

“D’you mean those octokittens?” Jonny asks, pointing to the door. Sure enough, a gaggle of octokittens meanders through, moving a bit unsteadily, oily dark colors writhing beneath their skin.

“That looks like- that’s-” Lyf’s eyes go wide as they stare at the kittens. “What the fuck is that?”

“It was supposed to be a cake,” Brian says mournfully.

“It ate Marius!”

“It’s technically your child, Lyf,” Raphaella pipes up. “The compound I used to make it is based on your blood samples.”

Lyf just stares at her.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Ashes remarks. They crouch down and flip open their lighter, holding it in front of one of the kittens’ face. It flinches, then snarls and shoots toward them, latching onto their foot, its jaws opening far wider than they should be able to. They try to kick it off, but its tentacles appear to have melted onto their skin and are slowly eating through. With a squelch, the odd entity detaches fully from its octokitten host, who blinks and scuttles into the corner.

With a pained grunt, Ashes drops their lighter onto the thing on their foot, successfully setting the thing alight. It recoils and retreats to the center of the floor, squelching in a frantic circle. It leaves behind nothing left of the quartermaster’s foot, and Ashes stumbles and is caught by Jonny, who steadies them and shoots a murderous look at the flaming blob.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ashes hisses through their teeth, pain evident on their features. “Goddamn. What the fuck, you two.”

“Again, I take no responsibility,” Brian insists. Raphaella sticks her tongue out at him. “You are a bastard and a traitor and I never loved you anyway.”

Brian blows her a kiss and a wink.

“Interesting,” Ivy interrupts, pulling out a notepad and writing something down. “It appears fire is ineffective.”

This gets everyone’s attention directed back to the creature, which is indeed decidedly not dead or incapacitated in any way. It isn’t even on fire anymore. And it looks angry.

“You’re kidding me,” Ashes growls, staring at the thing with disgusted fury.

“Run,” Tim suggests, pushing Lyf gently out of the way as the thing focuses on them and begins to move forward. “Split up and run. It can’t get all of us at once.”

Jonny nods and dutifully starts off out of the room, taking Ashes with him, holding them up as they limp and curse. Ivy and Nastya shoot off in another direction, Nastya scooping up the disgruntled left-behind octokitten as she goes. Raphaella grabs Lyf’s wrist and pulls them up through the ceiling trapdoor, ignoring their startled protests. That leaves Tim with Brian. She turns to him, poised to ask what the plan is, but hesitates when she sees Brian standing there, head cocked to one side, staring blankly at the empty floor. The bifrost cake-creature is nowhere to be seen.

“Brian?” Tim steps forward, reaching out and resting a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Bri? You good?”

Brian’s head lifts, slowly, in an uncharacteristically stilted motion. His eyes are… wrong. Something is moving in them, and if Tim looks closely she can see it oozing from the corners. Oh. Oh no.

“Fuck,” she breathes, stumbling backward and reaching for a pistol. “Not Brian not Brian not Brian.”

The thing in Brian’s body smiles, forcing the expression onto the Drumbot’s face. It takes a step forward. Of course, it’s at that moment that the Toy Soldier decides to make its first appearance.

“Sorry I’m late!” It announces as it steps into the shooting range. “I was in the middle of a delightful painting using the blood from that corpse Jonny dragged onto the ship the other day! I didn’t want to leave it for too long in case it was ruined! Anyway, I heard there was a crew meeting?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that painting,” Tim says, momentarily distracted. The Toy Soldier claps its hands together excitedly. “Of course! I’ll set up a viewing!”

Tim grins. “Lovely. Now, what do you know of possession?”

“Well, it depends on what kind!”

“Um,” Tim glances back at Brian and whatever is piloting him, who has stopped in its tracks and is watching the exchange curiously. “Well. Would you.. Happen to know anything about possession by.. Cake?”

In the brief pause that follows, the thing inside Brian appears to give up on its curiosity and steps forward, opening his mouth. Tim frowns at it for a moment, confused, and then she sees the soft glow building in the back of the Drumbot’s throat. “Oh shit.”

Tim & The Toy Soldier, just outside the shooting range, 9 left alive, 1 footless, 1 eaten

Tim grabs the Toy Soldier and pulls it with her as she bolts to the door, just as a jet of flame shoots out of Brian’s mouth.

“Since when can he do that?” she yelps, flattening herself against a wall to avoid being scorched.

“Oh, that is interesting!” TS declares, peeking around the doorframe. Tim nods. “So. To catch you up. There’s some sort of Bifrost related demon-creature loose on the ship, it is currently inside Brian’s body and appears to be controlling him. Fire can’t kill it. Oh, and it ate Mare.”

The Toy Soldier nods, bouncing on the balls of its feet. “So?”

Tim blinks, then shrugs. “We kill it, I suppose. At least get it out of Brian.”

“How do we do that?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!”

Another jet of flame shoots past them, followed by what sounded oddly like a frustrated grunt. The thing still hasn’t actually followed them into the hall, which is a good sign, if somewhat nonsensical. Tim flinches further back instinctively, feeling the heat in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confesses. “I don’t know how to get it out without opening Brian up, and he won’t like that. And I can’t even get close to it when it’s breathing fire at us like that.”

“Hmm,” the Toy Soldier hums a thoughtful note. Tim bites her lip, thinking, then lets out a soft laugh. “I’m glad I’m here with you and not Nastya,” she tells TS. “She’d probably suggest kissing it.”

There’s an awkward clank from the shooting range, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Tim glances at TS, who shrugs. “I could kiss it!”

“Could you?” Tim frowns again. “I mean.. I suppose it would just be kissing Brian, wouldn’t it, unless.. D’you think that would work? The kissing?”

“Possibly!” the Toy Soldier sounds positively thrilled about the prospect. “I’m very good at it, you know!”

“I feel like making out with the eldritch blob possessing our crewmate is a bit extreme,” Tim says, peeking around to corner to see what’s happening in the shooting range. What she sees gives her pause.

Brian seems to be fighting back against the thing holding his body hostage. He’s standing in the room where they left him, and every so often he takes a jerky, strained step forward, like he’s having to force himself to step. Although in this case its more likely that he’s trying to stop himself from taking a step. He looks pained, and Tim feels that familiar protective rage rising in her, that feeling of no he’s mine you can’t hurt him. All thoughts of kissing fade away, and she steps out, pistol in hand, and marches back into the shooting range.

“Brian,” she says, and the Drumbot’s head lifts slightly, his eyes still leaking sludgy iridescence. “Bri. Hey. I know you can hear me. Uh. I’m going to do something, and it might be.. A bit uncomfortable for you, but it will hopefully work out in the long run. So do me a favor and… stop fighting it for a moment? Just a moment.”

Brian gives her a wary look, but nods stiffly, clearly using every bit of control he has left. Then he lets go. His face goes blank, and his mouth opens, that glowing heat making another appearance. With a grimace, Tim lifts her pistol and fires.

The bullet flies true, carving straight through the flamethrower mechanism in the back of Brian’s throat and exiting out the back of his head. There’s an inhuman screeching sound, and Brian jerks once as the creature, with its main source of power destroyed, crawls out of the hole left behind.

Brian shudders once, then raises a hand to touch the new hole in his head.

“You alright?” Tim asks, stepping forward. “You.. you?”

“I’m fine,” Brian reassures her. “That could have obliterated my vocal cords, but I’m alright.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim says, tossing her braid back over her shoulder smugly.

“I don’t want to ruin the good mood,” TS says, peeking into the room curiously. “But, where did it go?”

Tim and Brian both freeze, locking terrified eyes. And then the lights go out.

Raphaella, Lyfrassir, Nastya, Ivy: In the dark. 9 left alive, 1 eaten, 1 footless

When the lights go out, someone screams. It’s Lyf. Raphaella shoots them a glare over her shoulder, aware of their ability to see in the dark.

“Sorry,” they whisper. Raphaella frowns. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know,” they admit. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aurora?” That’s Nastya’s voice, coming from just ahead of them. She sounds worried. “Aurora, please say something. Please tell me if you’re hurt. Aurora?”

“Nas?” Raphaella moves forward, stretching a hand out until she bumps into the engineer’s shoulder. Nastya grabs her hand and gives it a quick squeeze, an indication that she’s here and she’s alright. “Raph, good. Is Lyfrassir still with you?”

“Right here,” Lyf says, still whispering. “Where’s Ivy?”

“Here as well,” the archivist pipes up from the other side of Nastya. “Everyone’s okay, as far as we can tell, Aurora simply.. Stopped.”

“Do you think it got to her?” Lyf asks, shifting nervously behind Raphaella.

“It better not have,” Nastya snaps, her concern for her girlfriend evident in her voice.

Raphaella squeezes Nastya’s shoulder and looks around, cursing the fact that she hasn’t given herself night vision yet. “Ives, can you get ahold of Bri?”

Ivy nods and closes her eyes, typing out a message to Brian in her brain. After a moment, she nods again and announces, “He’s alright. Tim and the Toy Soldier are with him. It took control of his body, but they got it out of him and he’s barely hurt.”

“That’s good!” Raphaella exclaims, giving Nastya’s shoulder another squeeze. “That means Aurora should be fine, once we get it out of her!”

Nastya nods, expression growing determined. “How do we get it out of her?”

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Lyf says, sounding a bit shaky. “But there is something wrapped around my leg.”

They sound afraid, but not panicked or in pain, which causes Raphaella to frown. They don’t even sound urgent. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m- I’m fine, it isn’t hurting me. It’s more… it’s like it’s hugging me.”

“Didn’t you say you made it out of their blood?” Ivy inquires, and Raphaella nods. “Perhaps it recognizes them as one of its own.”

“I don’t like the implications of that,” Lyf says quietly, then gives a determined shake of their head. “Right. Now is not the time for a Bifrost-related panic attack.”

“We can use this,” Raphaella perks up suddenly. “We can use your connection to it, Lyffy, to… something.”

Silence falls as the four of them think on it. And then Ivy speaks up. “I have something from Brian. He met up with Jonny and Ashes, and Jonny has an idea. He just needs us to lure it into something smaller and able to be picked up.”

“Can we do that?” Raphaella glances to Lyf, who nods. “Great. Let’s go.”

Lyfrassir, the kitchen. Same situation.

The kitchen is dark and eerie when Lyf enters, stepping carefully over the seething tendrils rising from the floor, grabbing at their legs. It’s almost possessive, the way it reaches for them, curling around them with its oozing tentacles. They can almost hear it talking to them, in their head, whispering mine mine mine. It terrifies that, but they shove it aside to think about later, once they’ve got this dealt with. Instead they focus on locating something small and liftable to lure the thing into. They find something almost instantly.

As they approach the object they’ve chosen, their Bifrost-enhanced eyes land on something in the middle of the floor, a moving shape.

“Hey, babe,” they say, stepping lightly over the half-formed Marius Von Raum to the counter.

“Hi,” fae groans, conscious enough for at least that. “Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lyf replies, placing their hands gently on the object they want to bring the creature into, watching it curl up around their arms and moving down the walls toward them, chasing the contact. “And… there we are.”

In a flash, Jonny comes pelting into the room. He grabs Small Brian the electric mixer from Lyf’s hands, and as the lights come on he races down the corridor, and the sound of a door sliding open can be heard.

“What did you do?” Brian demands as the first mate reappears, smugly dusting off his hands.

“Tossed it out the airlock,” Jonny grins.

“Right, ‘cause throwing all our problems out an airlock always works,” Ashes snorts. Jonny frowns. “It does.”

Tim shakes her head. “Oh, you are so lucky I can’t roll my eyes too hard without fucking up my face, D’Ville.”

Brian looks gutted. “You- you threw- Small Brian?”

Jonny freezes. “Oh- oh shit, Bri- I didn’t- Shit shit shit.”

“We’re getting it back,” Brian says, folding his arms and glaring. “As soon as Aurora’s recovering, we’re getting it back.”

“How do we know that that thing will die out there and not just… devour a star system?” Lyf asks. Jonny shrugs. “That’s not our problem.”

“I… fair enough,” Lyf sighs, and casts a last look toward the airlock before going to help Marius up.

Brian & Raphaella: Everyone alive and well

They get everything on the ship back in order quickly. Marius is back, and is being regaled with the tales of what he missed by Lyf and Tim. As soon as Aurora is ready to move again, Brian takes her to pick up Small Brian, and he carries the mixer reverently back to its place in the kitchen. “You’re a hero,” he whispers to it, before kissing the top of it lightly. He then gathers all the ingredients to make another cake, a real one this time.

Just as he’s setting up to get everything made, Nastya comes marching out of the corridor from where she’s been checking up on Aurora, a flamethrower in hand.

“Right,” she says, firing up the weapon. “Where are the fuckers who got my girlfriend possessed?”

Raphaella and Brian glance at each other, knowing this was coming. With a grin, Raphaella runs over and grabs Brian’s hand, pulling him after her down the hall and away from the vengeful engineer.

Nastya curses and follows, and Raphaella lifts off the ground, sweeping Brian into her arms bridal-style to easier carry him. He yelps, and then laughs, twisting to look down and watch Nastya chase after them, looking furious.

Raphaella rounds into a tight corner and sets down, letting Brian back on his feet. They’re both giggling, and Brian buries his face in her shoulder, grinning widely. She kisses his hair and strokes it lightly, running her fingers around the edges of the hole in the back of his neck.

Nastya finds them like that, rounding the corner and hefting her flamethrower with a malicious glimmer in her eyes. “There you are,” she hisses, and this time there’s nowhere to run.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Raphaella murmurs to Brian as she pulls back, and he takes her hand.

“Love you always,” he replies, and she leans over to kiss his cheek. “See you soon.”

And together, they face their fate.

[tsuumu]

hii! i really like your blog so far, you’re writing is really good! this idea just popped up in my head so idk if it’ll actually make sense but i’ll try lmao. so could you write some headcanons of sugawara, tendou, and kuroo w/ a shy s/o who gets jealous of some girls that come up to them, and she tries to tell them that shes jealous, and how they would react to that? thank you so much, and i’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lmaoo :)

kuroo, tendou and sugawara with a jealous s/o.

good evening anon! this req is written in a school setting with various s/o personalities. i really hope you like it. <3

(the kuroo section is CONSIDERABLY longer than the other two and i apologise for that!! D: )

• nekoma’s volleyball team had become quite popular after the nationals tournament, where they had fought tirelessly and with extreme talent for everybody to see. people knew of the members and especially of their handsome captain. kuroo was prideful of his position and liked to flaunt his team’s successes to those who were interested, unknowing that they were probably more interested in him.

• he’s been talked about a lot lately. your friends always want updates on your ‘volleyball prince’, to which you promptly swat them away. he’s not a famous person. he’s just a high-school boy. a really cute, out-going, intelligent high-school boy.

• kuroo spends his free time in classes with girls on, around and at his desk, happily answering all the questions they gave him.

• unfortunately, you’re not so pleased. since tetsu had chemistry exam prep, his class has moved just a few doors down from yours. usually you wouldn’t get to see him during class because the lab work was done on the other side of the school, however he cheerily mentioned the change to you this morning whilst you were walking together.

• it happens as you’re on your way to your next room, stopping abruptly at the thought of the walk and peering in to see what was going on. after a short few seconds of scanning, you catch sight your boyfriend’s signature, dark hair. he’s chattering away to his female classmates.

• you really can’t help but feel a slight pang in your chest.

• you’ve never been overly protective or possessive of kuroo, at least, there had never been circumstances that lead you to feeling that way. you just stand there momentarily, staring at the varying expressions of the girls. tetsu is so oblivious. they’re totally hitting on him. you can’t help but sigh out. yes. he’s the talk of the town right now but wouldn’t you stop to ask him if he’s even single? you’re not angry, just a little bitter that you couldn’t sit with him like that and let them know of your existence.

• one of the girls closest to kuroo punches his arm lightly and you focus your attention back on them. you can’t figure out what on earth the actual conversation is about but she keeps placing her hands on his arms when she’s laughing or speaking enthusiastically.

• you’re not a fan of that at all, it makes the jab at your ribs heavier. you decide, ‘fuck it’ and push on the door to open it. it’s entirely on impulse and the nervousness sets in when the classroom quitens and -give or take- twenty eyes are set onto you.

• the second kuroo turns his head, he stands up at once, that shit-eating grin you know and love dearly plastered all over this face. it’s like the conversation with anybody else ended the second he saw you.

“woah. i didn’t know the next teacher was gonna be the love of my life! no, but seriously, what have you done to him, babe?”

you push on his chest lightly and tell him to quit it, cheeks burning at how loud he is, before embracing him tightly and wrapping your arms around him. you feel much safer.

• yaku chucks a piece of balled paper at you two from another area of the classroom.

“hey, you two. i know we signed up for chemistry but not your chemistry!”

• kuroo just throws it back, before kissing you on the forehead. you mumble into the fabric of his button-up that you’re just on your way to your next lesson and you’ll probably be late now. you just wanted to see him and tell those girls you’re uninterested. he chuckles out, moving back slightly to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“well i’m glad you did. this was the best surprise ever.”

• he leans closer, pressing his lips to your ear in a coy whisper.

“what girls? there’s girls? i thought they only made one in this entire world just for me. if it’s not another you, i’ll pass.” the corners of your mouth tug into a smile, burying your nose more into him.

“hey, kitty. as much as i’d like to keep you in here forever, like a cat that very obviously has another owner, i’ll just have to see you after class. i’ll be right outside your door. okay? now scram.”

• he flicks your forehead and walks with you to your next class. you grumble playfully. on your way, you meet eyes with the girls earlier. they’re shell-shocked, previously unbeknownst of your existence, you give them a small wave before holding his arm tightly and smiling to yourself.

• tendou is the life of the party wherever he goes. everybody seems to know him and it’s not always because of volleyball. he just seems to be friends with everyone. he’s the type to be chatting with teachers, students, the old, the young. he’s a mood setter and everybody loves him.

• you fell for him. hard.

• before dating him, it made you a little agitated that everybody got along with him so well. you never knew if his smooth words and instantaneous charm were factors of all his conversations. you could never approach him, since you’d never been good at displaying romantic intentions through actions. unfortunately, these small thoughts persisted even after he himself approached you and asked you out for coffee after school one day, despite not knowing you at all. even after he kissed you on the step of your door months later. even after he eventually begged you to be his.

• you aren’t too big on publicly displaying your relationship. initiating PDA was never your thing. you weren’t embarrassed of him at all, you just preferred to stay completely professional and education-orientated when in school. he’ll tease you, once even told you you remind him of a female ushijima... before staring at the ground to reflect on his own comment and taking it back vehemently (he doesn’t want to imagine dating his best friend in front of you).

• whenever you ask him if girls talk to him, he hushes you copiously, assuring you that every man and woman that’s entered his life after you as resembled humanoid blobs in purple uniform. he has eyes for only you.

• you’re a little cold, you tend to be when jealousy sets in. like that one day your friend told you that this notoriously pretty second year had approached him, handing him a blank lined sheet and asking for his help with her english work. you found out later that she’d thanked him with fluttering eyelashes and big smiles, before frowning down at the paper.

• he’d ended up practicing his signature over and over on the page because -and you quote- “i suck at english too but this paper was good document-signing practice, so thanks!”

• a relief washes over you. you and tendou are stark opposites, in fact, the only time you ever feel obliged to lose your cool is over him. however, you know he’s loyal. he loves you very much and hopes that you’ll come to trust him with your entire heart one day.

• you vow to work on it, hard.

if sugawara was my s/o i’d just accept that everyone else would probably fall in love with him too

• this boy is made of honey. the first time you laid eyes on him was during first year, noir jacket slung over his shoulder, beautiful, silver hair rustling as he tried to shut the class window as you walked in, you were hooked.

• you felt utterly helpless at how infatuated with him you were. your friends all felt the same way. picture: sighing together and staring whenever he did ANYTHING. he was so sweet to absolutely everybody. nobody could ever bring them selves to defy, ignore or be aggressive with koushi. from the start it felt like you had competition.

• you’re a happy-go-lucky, loud-mouth shithead with an abudance of enthusiasm and energy but this third year makes your knees shake. walking up to him on a summer’s evening to ask him out, you could barely even talk. luckily, he did all the talking for you. your time together has been nothing but loving history.

• sugawara likes to spend his free time with you, often lunches, where he’s adamant on feeding you lots and lots of his own cooking to ensure you’re well-fed.

• imagine your surprise, when you’re walking, hop in your step, over to your usual meeting place and see your boyfriend sitting with another girl, feeding them. your heart practically falls out of your ass. steps slowing, you don’t even try to hide your alarm as you approach him. koushi’s face is to you, smiling and laughing. he catches sight of you and waves happily.

• your expression doesn’t change. you’re confused, hurt, unsure of how to act. should you just pretend like everything is fine? you feel like criticising them but they’re just eating. god, you’re overthinking this.

• “(y/n)! say hi to hinata!”

huh?

the girl turns around.

oh god.

• hinata’s blowing unattractively on strands of hair that are stuck to his face, before leaping up to greet you. he’s wearing a god damn wig.

“ah! (y/n), hi! i took totally weird, don’t i. it’s for this stupid drama class. i seriously thought i’d get to act and do fight scenes and look super cool to girls but instead, they made me dress up as a high-school girl! it’s ‘cause i’m short, they said!”

• you’re not even listening, just wallowing in your shame at how panicked you were.

“—i ran into sugawara and he let me try some lunch, have you eaten?” you shake your head, before grinning and suddenly grabbing the younger boy, trapping him in a playful headlock and making him squirm.

“oi, hinata. you gave me a scare, makin’ me think some doe-eyed lowerclassman was chatting up my boyfriend!”

• he whines and apologises profusely. koushi just sits and laughs, munching on his lunch and watching you give the poor boy hell. he’d never dream of that, he know you’d do worse to him if that were ever the case.

[the-delta-42]

Give me a hand

Give me a hand

Follow up of Armed

Marinette gingerly poked her sketchbook with a pencil. The darkness surrounding the book didn’t transfer over to the pencil.

“Should we tear it?” Asked Alix, watching Marinette carefully pick the book up.

“No, I’d rather not damage any of the designs I have in it.” Said Marinette, staring down at the sketchbook, “Funny, I’m pretty sure he’d would’ve started talking by now.”

Lila grunted against Kim, who was sitting on her.

“Kim, why don’t you put her in a closet.” Said Marinette, looking over at the two.

“Nah, I’m alright here.” Said Kim, folding his arms.

“Kim.”

Kim froze, before getting off of Lila and unceremoniously throwing her in a cupboard.

After a few seconds, the sketchbook flashed white and purified butterfly flew out.

“Did Hawkmoth just…?” Asked Alya, as Marinette’s eyes narrowed.

“Purify his own Akuma?” Said Marinette, “Yes, but why?”

Meanwhile across the city, Hawkmoth was trying to understand what happened.

“Why did it de-evilise itself?!”

Back at the classroom, Marinette stood up and put her sketchbook back in her bag. She turned around and folded her arms across her chest.

“That was…” Marinette trailed off.

“Anti-climactic?” Asked Alya.

“Quick?” Suggested Rose.

“Weird?” Said Alix.

“All of the above.” Said Marinette, absently starting to wander around.

“How are you not freaking out?” Asked Kim, “You literally had your arm ripped off last Friday, Lila’s been lying about you for ages and now Hawkmoth released an Akuma.”

“I’m better at hiding it.” Came Marinette distracted response, before she shook her head and straightened up, “I’m going for a walk.”

“Do you want-” Alya was cut off by Marinette.

“No, I’ll be alright.” Said Marinette, as she walked out the door.

“Does Marinette seem… off to anyone else?” asked Kim, looking around the class.

“No, I didn’t notice anything,” Said Alix, sarcastically, “except, perhaps, she’s minus an arm and literally just found out one of her classmates was actively trying to kill her, other than that, she seemed fine.”

GMAH

Marinette’s legs dangled off the school roof, the odd passer-by would spot her and stop to take a photo. There was a quiet thud behind her, Marinette carefully strained her ears, trying to figure out who it was without giving away that she knew.

“Bunking class, M’Lady?” Asked Chat, as he plopped down beside her.

“Pot, kettle.” Retorted Marinette, looking down at her arm.

Chat laughed, tilting his head back, swinging his legs back and forth. There was a silence between the two.

“Chat?” Asked Marinette, suddenly getting Chat’s attention.

“Yeah?” Said Chat, tilting his head towards her.

“How-how did you feel when you found out who I was?” Asked Marinette, her gaze on the ground below them.

“I, uh, well, um, well I, for one, not that anyone else’s opinion is worth any less,” Stammered Chat, his face heading up, “I, I was glad it was you. You know, since er, since there were rumours that Chloe was you, and, um, and I know that Chloe leaves a lot to be desired.”

Marinette giggled, before leaning over and resting her head on Chat’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Kitty,” Said Marinette, as tears gathered in her eyes, “I needed to hear that.”

“W-well it’s the truth.” Said Chat, leaning into the touch.

Marinette closed her eyes and sighed, trying not to focus on the cold metal against the scarring on her stump, she kept seeing the Akuma’s smirk every time she closed her eyes. The sound of Chat’s heartbeat helped calm her down, especially after her arm had been taken from her.

“You mean a lot to me, Chat.” Said Marinette, her eyes still closed.

Chat blushed, he was insanely happy that his lady was saying that he was important to her, but he didn’t want to get between her and the boy she loved. He knew that Luka was interested in her, and there was the mystery boy she spoke about.

“I’ve actually had some time to think about everything,” Said Marinette, her eyes still closed, “I actually thought I was in love with that boy I told you about, but he’s only properly seen me since Piledriver, if my arm hadn’t been ripped off, I’d still be invisible to Adrien.”

Chat froze, looking down at Marinette, “I mean, he sees me as just a friend, and he values me as a friend, but every time I tried to get him to see me as anything else he gets the wrong impression, it’s hopeless and, I think I see him the same way.”

Chat remained silent, internally screaming, Marinette opened her eyes and looked up at him, “I, I think that the feelings I had were for you and I was just projecting them onto Adrien. I, I love you, Chat, I think I always have.”

Chat’s face was red, “Oh,” He squeaked, fiddling with his ring, “thanks?”

Marinette giggled, before she caught the time, “Oh, fuck, I need to get back to school!”

Quickly transforming and swinging away, Ladybug left Chat on the rooftop. Chat felt like a puddle, a hot mess of a puddle. “She loves me.” Whispered Chat, before scrambling to his feet, “I need to catch up with her.”

GMAH

Ladybug dove through the window and dropped her transformations. Ms. Mendeleiev and her class stared at her.

“Oops, sorry,” Apologised Marinette, quickly heading to the door, “wrong window.”

Marinette exited the room, before there was a loud thump and a squeaking sound as Chat Noir hit the window and slowly slid down. Aurore stopped recording when Chat disappeared from view.

“Anyway, back to the laws of physics.” Said Mendeleiev, making everyone look back to the front.

GMAH

Marinette quietly apologised as she entered the room, before sitting in her place next to Alya.

“Where’s Adrien?” Asked Marinette, frowning at Adrien’s empty seat.

“Apparently his dad has some Photoshoot arranged.” Said Alya, making Adrien stop outside the door.

‘Oh, shit, I forgot about the photoshoot.’ Thought Adrien, before spinning around and taking off.

Marinette could’ve sworn that she saw a flash of green light outside the school.

GMAH

It’d been a week since Adrien found out that Marinette loved him and every time he’d approached her as Adrien had ended in disaster, the most recent one being that he threw up on her. She had taken him to the nurse, after changing clothes of course.

Why couldn’t he approach her as Chat?

Adrien froze, before grinning and he started to head out of the room, “Plagg!”

GMAH

Marinette wrinkled her nose as she dug a bit of vomit out of her arm. Honestly, what had Adrien been eating? It was like he had eaten nothing by grain from a bag. A loud bang made Marinette jump and accidently throw the wooden skewer she’d been using. Marinette looked at the window, she caught a glimpse of a pair of cat ears sliding out of view towards the ground.

“Chat?” Asked Marinette, getting to her feet and heading to the window.

Said Hero suddenly resurfaced and drew level with the window. Marinette noticed the rose in his mouth and the bruise from where he’d slammed against the window was blossoming over his nose.

“…Are you okay?” Asked Marinette, as Chat rubbed his nose.

“I think so.” Said Chat, as some blood trickled out of his nose.

Marinette sighed, before grabbing Chat by his bell and dragged him inside, “Sit there.”

Marinette walked off to fetch the first aid kit, leaving Chat to nervously sit in the middle of her room and wait for her to return.

“How many times have you hit the window now?” Asked Marinette, setting the first aid kit down and tilting Chat’s head back, “Your nose isn’t broken, at least I don’t think it is.”

“It’s not,” Said Chat, as Marinette started cleaning up the blood, “A friend of mine broke their nose once.”

“A nose can be broken without it looking broken.” Said Marinette, grimacing as a blob of blood slid out of Chat’s nose and onto the tissue.

“My nose doesn’t hurt when poked.” Said Chat, as Marinette removed the tissue.

“What are you doing here?” Asked Marinette, glancing up at Chat, “I thought you had the night off.”

“I do, I, er, um, Iwanttoapologiseforthrowinguponyou!” Marinette blinked as Chat’s words blurred into one.

“What?”

“I want to apologise for throwing up on you.” Repeated Chat, breathing deeply, unable to remember what he actually planned on saying.

“Throwing up on me? Chaton, you didn’t throw up on me, Adrien di…” Marinette trailed off, before her eyes went wide, “AdriEN?!”

Chat suddenly tensed and swore.

[uniarycode]

Takari Week, Day 1 - Confession

Takeru has spent weeks trying to confess to Hikari but somehow he can never actually get it out.  Hikari has a different interpretation on how they’ve been spending their time.  Done as part of @takariweek 2020

Today was the day.  Today everything would change for better or for worse.  Today marked the first sentence of a new chapter of his life.  Today was the day he was going to confess to Hikari.

Unlike all those other sentences he had to re-write.

This was not the first day this month Takeru had planned to confess.  However, he was a romantic at heart, and no matter how much resolve he had beforehand somehow the moment never felt right.  He would always be able to tell their grandkids about how they met, but he wanted to be proud or the story of how he first asked her out.  And none of the opportunities so far fit his taste.

It was either that or he was afraid.  

Even if his confession was successful, it would still mean a fundamental change would occur in his and Hikari’s relationship.  And Takeru had a mixed relationship with change. Change meant the loss of his father and brother.  Change meant the introduction of a strange world filled with monsters.  Even the first time Patamon had changed into a new form had led to one of the most traumatic events in his life.

But change also led him to meet Patamon in the first place, something he wouldn’t trade for all the riches in the world.  Change meant moving to the same school as Hikari, and meeting Miyako, Iori, Daisuke and Ken.  Change meant that one day society might accept Digimon as a whole.

And whether he liked it or not, change was coming.

It was still surreal to him; his brother and Taichi had always seemed so close.  They had never been part of the same cliques, and they spent almost as much time fighting as hanging out.  But their friendship always eclipsed everything else, social standings, heated disputes, none of it mattered; they were best friends, through and through.

Then college happened. Now the legendary duo’s primary means of communication was via their siblings.  Hikari would learn some new fact of her brother’s life, tell Takeru during the course of casual conversation, and Takeru would update his brother of the going-ons later that week.

It wasn’t just them.  Even Mimi, who had an incessant talent for attaching herself onto someone and refusing to let them go, seemed much further from the rest of the chosen then she’d even been while she lived in America.

Takeru knew their bond was strong, that what the eight of them had done could not be forgotten or replaced.  But even if distance could not destroy the bridge holding them together, it could certainly increase the hassle of travelling back and forth.

The last thing Takeru wanted was for that distance to appear between himself and Hikari.  This was their final year in highschool, if he didn’t at least try now he might not ever get the opportunity again.  He needed to try, despite the inherent risks.

Besides, Hikari had rejected Daisuke dozens of times, and they were still friends, right?

Gathering his courage, Takeru had asked Hikari if they could have a day to themselves, ‘just the two of them’.  He’d suggested Wednesday, when neither club duties nor pressing assignments devoured too significant portions of their time.

Ever the romantic, he had it all planned out: First, karaoke.  A good, private way to judge the mood, and get Hikari to let her hair down.  Next, they had tickets to a movie, the new Disney flick that Hikari had been dying to see but never gotten around to (and without someone pressing, likely would not until it became available on dvd.) Finally, a romantic stroll on the boardwalk at sunset.

The boardwalk overlooking the bay.

The bay where they fought Ordienmon.

The bay where they’d been forced to kill one of their friends.

It was only after beginning his long-rehearsed spiel that Takeru had this epiphany, and, fearful that his date may have been quicker on the uptake than himself, he scrambled for a plan B.  

Salvation came in the form of a nearby cat café, he knew as soon as he suggested it that Hikari would lose herself in the felines, paying more attention to the four-legged critters than she did to him, but it was worth it to avert potential catastrophe.

Fate still deigned to mock him however, from the instant he sat down a maine-coon attached to him, refusing to move from his side, or to let the memories of past failures escape.

All cats attached to Hikari, she merely shared them with the other customers as she saw fit.  There was no doubt she enjoyed herself, but the moment had been well and truly ruined.

Takeru had managed to obtain an opportunity of redemption. ‘Same time next week’ had been the agreement, and he had near instantly resumed planning.  Whatever he came up this time had to top what he’d just done, or else he might have to explain away his mistake.

But even the most perfect plan does not survive contact with the enemy, and the enemy presented itself as an ill-timed phone call from his father.   One of his coworker’s households had apparently been graced by the appearance of a small white blob with a voracious appetite, and Hiroaki was wondering if his son could stop by after school and help calm the panicking mother, perhaps also giving tips for digital care.

Hikari would not allow him to say no, and insisted on tagging along.  But the TV station itself held a lot of painful memories for the girl, every year she returned with an offering of flowers and incense for Wizardmon’s grave.

It was far from a total waste since an idol Hikari had been following was also present.  Somehow the idol had overheard their arrival, and considered themselves interested in the pro-digimon cause.  In fact, the idol had been downright helpful, asking questions of him and Hikari that the coworker was likely to embarrassed or too naïve to think of.  Hiroaki ended up taking them all out for dinner, and they chatted for hours, finally assuaging the fear of a parent whose daughter now had a dog-head as a life partner.  

By that point, he had to take Hikari home, with no real opportunity to confess, even if Wizardmon wasn’t on her mind.

The third attempt was a no go from the beginning, Hikari had been sent into a rare, foul state.  All she wanted to do was eat ice-cream and rant, so they went to a dairy-bar overlooking the beach.

He’d let her vent when she wanted to vent, and when she was done he did what he did best: deflecting the conversation to some odd antics of Daisuke or his brother, anything to get her happy and cheerful again. Even after her mood had recovered, steering the conversation towards a confession felt like he might be taking advantage of her, or putting her on the spot somehow.

Cheering her up was reward enough, even as he paid for the forty-flavor super-jumbo, bottomless Sunday that they’d managed to make a liar out of.

(He’d eaten perhaps an eighth of it, there was no doubt in his mind that Hikari could have eaten the whole thing; but she at least wanted the plausible deniability to claim that he’d consumed half the calories.)

The fourth attempt was similarly doomed, he’d been too sick for school that day, and while Hikari had dropped by, he was too delirious to form a real confession, or for her to take any confession seriously.

The feel of her hand stroking his hear as she tended to him had been so heavenly though.  He couldn’t regret the experience.

By this point Takeru was convinced their Wednesday gatherings were cursed.  There was little reason Hikari would even see them as special.  And while he always enjoyed spending time with her, especially just the two of them, he was worried that regularity may dampen the splendor he’d initially been going for.

This week he requested to move their weekly hang out session to Saturday.  It would allow more time for them to be out at night, and thus more time for him to enact his perfect confession.  Hikari’s father was away on business, and her mother had already agreed to be rather lax on her daughter’s curfew.

His mother had not, but she would not punish him if he told her he was out on his first date, nor would she punish him after getting rejected, yet another reason he needed to actually spit it out today.

And it seemed all the stars were aligning, on top of her father being out of town: a photography exhibition at a local gallery was going for half price, and her favorite indie group were headlining a public concert at the beach until sundown.  Finally, there was a forecast for a clear, bright moon, and a local botanical garden was advertising a moonlit stroll through their flowers.

Hikari had agreed on one condition: they could wade through the shallows, but not do any real swimming at the beach.  It had seemed odd to Takeru at first, but the beach had been more about the free concert than seeing her in her swimsuit.

***

When Takeru arrived at the Yagami apartment he was stunned by the vision of beauty that graced him.  Hikari was wearing a strapless dress, black with accents of pink and white, that he’d never seen her in before.   Based on how high her head was coming up his body, she had to be wearing quite daring heels as well.

And her makeup had been done with so much precision and effort he had to wonder if perhaps Mimi had come back to town to help her.

“T-Takeru?” she asked, and he realized he must have been staring.

“I’m sorry, have you seen Hikari?  Brown hair, about yea tall,” he held his hand about three feet off the floor, “may have a family of ducklings following her around.”

“That was one time.” She scolded.

Takeru stood on his tip toes and moved one hand to sit above his eyes, like a visor.  “Hikari? Is that you?  Are you trapped behind this radiant goddess in front of me?”

A tell-tale pink infiltrated her cheeks as she turned around.  “It’s too much isn’t it?  I could still maybe change and-”

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm before she could escape. “You look perfect.” He said sincerely, pulling her in for a hug. “Besides, people at the exhibit will be expecting beauty and art.  They just may not be expecting the source.”

“You’re just saying that.” She deflected.

He wasn’t.

Takeru was not the same connoisseur of photography Hikari was.  When push comes to shove, he wasn’t sure anyone was the same connoisseur of photography Hikari was.  That said, he enjoyed exhibits well enough.  He liked to look at the pictures, and soak them in.  Try and memorize every detail to regurgitate later.  

Or occasionally, he would find a particular picture, and write a story in his head.  How had they gotten here, to this moment, what did picture mean to the squirrel which was the focus?  What was he doing immediately before?  How did this moment change his life?

Such joys eluded him today, instead his focus was solely on the brunette accompanying him.  The pictures only mattered in how they changed the expression on her face as she examined them.  

After exiting the gallery, there was still about an hour before the band started playing at the beach, they stopped for a bite to eat, and Takeru did his best to fake his way though her questions on the exhibition.

What was his favorite photo?  He named one on the left wall of the one she stared at for ten minutes, that had framed her head the whole time.  Why?  He made up some impromptu story he’d concocted about the scenery involved.  It won him a laugh from her as he turned the questions around.

When they got to the beach, Hikari replaced her heels with flat sandals she kept in her purse.  Takeru noted that he at least recognized the heels this time, unlike her dress, but he’d still never seen her wear them before.

Despite her insistence they not swim, (something Takeru now realized had to do with the amount of time she’d spent on her makeup,) hikari had instantly dragged him towards the water, to wade in the shallows.  They didn’t go much more than ankle deep, anymore and they risked getting hikari’s dress and his shorts wet, but it had been romantic nonetheless.

When the main act began to play, they collected their shoes and moved towards the stage, communications dampening as the speakers drowned out all sounds but the band on stage.

Takeru didn’t need words, the sight of Hikari, framed by the sunset, losing herself in the moment was more than enough for him.

It was twilight when the band’s ‘second encore’ had concluded and the crowd began to peter out.   There was a small ice-cream sack on the beach, and Hikari rarely turned down an opportunity for more of the frozen delight.

They talked about the concert, the waves on the beach, of everything and nothing all at once, until the residual light from the sun faded and the moon came in full force.  In the city like this, there was always a glow of artificial light, but it did not diminish Tsukuyomi’s splendor.

Meandering towards the botanical gardens, continuing their chatter about daily life.  Just outside Hikari stopped him, finding a bench to switch back from flats to heels, insisting it was more ‘proper’.  Takeru didn’t let her get away unscathed, suggesting that if she wanted to feel taller, stilts would be more appropriate.  She responded by playfully warning him that he may ‘wake up one day, two feet shorter’.

Neither comment had nearly as much effect as when the woman at the counter remarked on ‘What a beautiful date this would make’ and how she ‘wished her boyfriend had been so romantic at that age.’

Hikari’s face could be mistaken for a tomato, and Takeru adopted an uncharacteristic stutter as he paid their admission and ushered Hikari outside.

The woman’s words had a chilling effect, the natural conversation had all but dried up, replaced with subtle pleasantries and tepid remarks about the moonlit flowers.  Before long Hikari had her camera out, taking pictures of the various plant life, abandoning most conversation all together.

Was this it, had such a small, well-meaning action already cursed him?  Everything was going so well.  Was he a modern Sysphus?  Doomed to forever push himself up the hill of a relationship with Hikari only to fall down at the pinnacle and start all over?

“Takeru?” Hikari asked, snapping him out of his monologue, “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Takeru replied “Just thinking.”

She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s take a break, these shoes are killing me.”

“The price of fashion.” Takeru said sagely.

After they reached the bench, and Hikari had relieved herself of her footwear, they paused, focusing on some hydrangeas flow in the wind, accented by moon light.  A weight appeared on Takeru’s shoulder, where Hikari began to rest her head.

“Right now.” She said “This moment just feels so…perfect.”

Takeru took a deep breath.  He had the most wonderful girl on his arm, after spending nearly eight hours with her. “Yeah, perfect.”

A perfect moment.

It was unlikely a better opportunity would present itself.

“Hikari.” He said suddenly, just as she chimed in with his name. “Sorry,” they said in unison.

Her head pulled off his arm, quite disappointingly in his opinion, as she turned to face him.

“Ladies first.” Takeru said “I insist.”  She gave him a soft look, knowing that he wouldn’t let her win this one.

 “Okay.” She started “This last month, has just been so wonderful, so amazing.  I know I’m not the most experienced with this, and I know we haven’t really put a name on it, but it’s still been like something out of a novel.  I guess I should expect that from you.”

She had begun to look down, rummaging through her purse, as takeru tried to sort out exactly what she was talking about.  Had it already been a month since they started these ‘friend-dates?’

Hikari continued obliviously, “It’s not much, especially since you seem to do all the planning, but I thought you’d like it.” She pulled out a tightly-wrapped box. “Happy  one-month anniversary.”

Ani-what?

Dates rolled back in his head as he began to piece things together; the dress, the makeup, the heels, those were all for him?  Had she always been considering these less friend-dates and more dates-dates?

And he, in a move of pure coincidence, had moved this week’s date to Saturday, one month to the day of that first date, and even asked her mother for permission to stay out late.

Takeru did the only thing he could think of in the moment.

He laughed.

“Tak-Takeru?” she asked, and he could already sense fear and hesitation begin to well up within her as she saw her (boyfriend?) laugh at her anniversary gift.  He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug to dissuade any doubts.

“Happy anniversary,” he said when his hysterics died down.  “One month, I’ve been trying to confess for a month, and you hit me with that.”

“Wait, confess?” Hiakri said, begging a laugh of his own that quickly spread to Takeru.  “All this time and you didn’t even think we were dating?  You completely stopped flirting with everyone else.  Did you really think I didn’t…”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Takeru teased in response.

“Yeah,” Hikari agreed. “Well, if you finally managed to confess after all that, maybe I can do something I’ve been too scared to do for the last month.”

Takeru looked down at her, “What would that be?” he asked leaning in close.

“This.” She pressed her lips against his.

[andyquhyn]

prompt list #3 (winter/christmas edition)

“Hey, it’s snowing outside.”

“God, you’re shivering so much— just take my jacket.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowball.”

“Let’s cuddle to stay warm.”

“I made you hot chocolate, with marshmallows, of course.”

“I got you a present.”

“You’ve never seen snow before?”

“I swear I didn’t plan this, but… we’re under the mistletoe right now.”

“Come sit by the fireplace with me.”

“Help me wrap up these presents.”

“Let’s bake cookies!”

“If I freeze to death, I’m blaming you.”

“Just hold my hand, I won’t let you slip.”

“I guess we’re stuck here until the snow dies down.”

“So, are you going to be my New Year’s kiss?”

“My snowman looks better than yours.”

“If you play one more Christmas song, I’m going to smash my head through the wall.”

“We need to go buy a Christmas tree.”

“I’m not telling you what your gift is, you’re going to have to wait until Christmas!”

“Do I smell burning?”

“By the way, I might’ve told everyone that you’re my date because I didn’t want to go to this Christmas party alone.”

“Oh, we definitely have to go ice skating now that I know you’ve never done it before!”

“Come decorate the Christmas tree!”

“Oh no, we need to go emergency gift shopping right now!”

“I’ve never seen such an ugly sweater before. I love it.”

“Uh, surprise! I’m your Secret Santa.”

“You’re going to be home for the holidays, right?”

“Our gingerbread house is falling apart!”

“Oh, I need a lot more wine to get me through this dinner.”

“Ugh, I’ve caught a cold.”

“I have about thirty more Christmas cards to write and I’m nowhere near finished.”

“You can’t go outside in this weather.”

“I swear, I’ve never met anyone as festive as you.”

“God, is our first kiss really going to be under the mistletoe?”

“Dinner is supposed to start in twenty minutes and I’ve burned half the food and don’t have time to cook the rest.”

“I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I promise you, my parents are delighted to have you over for the holidays, and they’re so excited to meet you.”

“I need another blanket.”

“Your hands are so cold.”

“Our gingerbread men look like gingerbread blobs.” 

“Exactly how many candy canes have you eaten?”

“You’re lucky I love you, or else I would kill you for spilling hot chocolate all over my favorite sweater.”

“Surprise! I’m your Christmas gift.”

“Do you want some tea?”

“Is that my scarf?”

“You’ve had some brilliant ideas in the past, but driving through a snowstorm only to get stuck on the road has truly been your best idea.”

“Let’s frost the cookies!”

“I hate the cold so much.”

“Do we really need another box of sparkly, glittery ornaments?”

“Best Christmas ever.”

“Who knew you were actually a decent baker?”

“I didn’t think it was possible for someone to suck so badly at gift wrapping, but here you are.”

“You can’t tell them Santa’s not real!”

“I hate Christma—” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“Let’s just stay in here, where it’s warm.”

“Please just come to this New Year’s party with me.”

“Look! Fireworks!”

“You look adorable covered in snow.”

“I bet I’m a faster ice skater than you.”

“I kind of got too drunk at this New Year’s party and I need you to pick me up.”

“That is the most hideous sweater I’ve ever seen, and yet, somehow, you’re pulling it off.”

“It’s our first holiday together.”

“I got matching sweaters for us and the cat!”

“I’m still mad at you, but I’m going to ignore our argument just for today since it’s Christmas.”

“How could you not tell me your parents are coming over today?!”

“I told you to wear a bigger jacket.”

“Hey, careful, you’re going to slip!”

“You just saved Christmas.”

“How did you manage to get tangled in the lights?”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going out wearing the tinsel like a scarf.”

“I’m glad I get to spend the holidays with you.”

“Fuck it, a new year is about to start, and I can’t go another year hiding this from you — I love you.”

“Hey, you were the one who insisted on throwing a Christmas party, even when I told you it’d be a nightmare to plan!”

“Can you help me put the star on top of the tree?”

“If I fall, I’m dragging you down with me.”

“Your snow angel looks deformed.”

“I suck at giving gifts, but… I hope you still like it.”

“We’re totally putting this picture on the Christmas cards.”

“Did you spike our hot chocolate?”

“It’s New Year’s. Of course I’m drunk.”

“I got us matching Christmas socks.”

“Please tell me you kept the dog in the other room, away from the presents.”

“Hey, you started this snowball fight, and now I have to finish it.”

“We need a bigger tree!”

“Yeah, I’ve never made a pie before, but how hard can it be?”

“How are you not cold?!”

“I know it’s cliché but… all I want for Christmas is you.”

“I usually hate the holiday season, but it’s a little more bearable with you.”

“Are you still mad because I ate the last cookie?”

“Winter is the best season.” “I beg to differ.”

“Please just dress up as Santa for the kids.”

“I’m telling you, going down this snowy hill on your makeshift sleigh is a bad idea.”

“I wish you could be here to celebrate with us.”

“Oh, you’re so warm, don’t ever let go of me.”

“It’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year!”

“I refuse to go outside, it’s like the North Pole out there!”

“I was hoping I’d see you at this party.”

“Just step a little closer to me… to your left… woah! Would you look at that, we’re under the mistletoe, what a complete and utter coincidence!”

“I will treasure this gift forever.”

“Happy New Year, baby. I can’t wait to spend another year with you.”

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Lost Souls: Story 5

Breaking Point and a Step Forward

Summary: Merlin finally pushes Jim too far and Jim makes a friend.

~~~~

@twistedmashup I hear it was your birthday yesterday! So since I’m still blaming you for starting this AU: have a chapter!

~~~~

(Chapter warnings: Abuse and brief suicidal ideation)

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

Eli watched with bated breath as the small green creepers swarmed up the side of the building like grotesque frogs. He couldn’t believe his luck. All his previous attempts to spot them had only captured images of blurs and distant blobs on his camera, but this…

Eli’s hands shook as he lifted leveled his phone and a snapped a picture. Unfortunately he had forgotten to turn off the shutter sound. The creatures stiffened and started looking around at the click. One of them started sniffing the air and moving in his direction. Eli quickly covered his mouth and ducked down behind the bush.

Stupid!

This was exactly the kind of amateur mistake that got people killed in horror movies.

A sniffing noise was getting rapidly closer. It was just on the other side of the bush. It paused and he heard a raspy murmur that wasn’t human or animal.

He should probably run.

Before he could formulate a plan any farther than that, something wrapped around his waist and he was airborne.

He let out a shriek and the night burst into a cacophony of noise as the creepers came pouring over the bushes.

Fortunately whatever was carrying him was staying well ahead of them. Eli managed to twist around enough to see what was holding him and squeaked.

It was a big blue creeper, one of the stone ones. It had tusks and horns and a glowing suit of armor.

The creeper tightened its grip on him and jumped. All the air left Eli’s lungs.  He didn’t get a chance to even try to suck in a breath before they touched down on a tree branch and the creeper was leaping again.

Eli whimpered as they shot from one perch to the next, only pausing long enough for his rescuer… or kidnapper?... to gather itself for another leap.

By the time they finally stopped, he was feeling sick. Eli leaned over and retched, losing the whole of his dinner on the ground behind the dumpster they were crouching behind.

“Sorry,” A quiet rumbling voice said.

Eli jumped and then his eyes widened with surprise as he realized it was the creeper that had spoken.

“You can talk… I mean you know English?” Eli asked forgetting his fear in the excitement of new discovery.

The creeper blinked and leaned back slightly, nose wrinkling as it stared at him. It was actually surprisingly humanoid, now that he got a chance to get a good look at it. Almost in an uncanny valley way, but not quite.

“…yes,” It said finally. “Why wouldn’t I be able to?”

“I’ve only been able to get close enough to hear the green creepers before,” Eli exclaimed. He was talking to an actual creeper! This was so cool! “They aren’t able to talk far as I can tell.”

“Creepers? Do you mean the goblins?”

“Is that what they are?!”

The armored creeper stared at him, before shaking its head.

“Come on, you need to go home. It’s not safe here.”

“But… but I have so many questions.” Eli stared at it pleadingly.

The creeper eyed him again.

“I can answer some on the way to your house…”

~~~~

Jim wasn’t sure what to think of the strange teenager he rescued from the goblin pack.

Despite almost being eaten and despite Jim being some sort of half-human, half-troll, monster, the gangly black-haired human -Who had at some point introduced himself as Elijah Pepperjack (“but everyone calls me Eli”)- was positively glowing with enthusiasm as he peppered Jim with questions.

Bemusement at the entire situation caused Jim to answer far more of them than he was really supposed to.

Eventually they reached the human’s house.

“You have keys right?” Jim asked, because there wouldn’t be much point in rescuing him only to leave him trapped outside his home.

Eli nodded and then dug around in his pocket for a moment before producing the aforementioned keys.

“Good,” Jim said. He gave him what he hoped was a firm authoritative stare. “Please don’t go out in the dark. I might not always be in time to save you. Have a good night.”

Jim turned toward the bushes and bent his legs, preparing to leap into the nearest tree.

“Wait!”

Jim paused and glanced back.

“I… I um…” Eli stammered. “I was wondering if you wanted to stay and like watch a movie or something?”

The Trollhunter blinked, it was one thing to accept a walk home from a creature that had protected him but to invite a troll into his house? Did Elijah Pepperjack have no self-preservation instincts?

Jim should have said no then. He’d already interacted with the human far more than he should. He glanced toward the woods and then toward the house. His ears flicked. Why was he still hesitating?

“My mom’s not home, so no one will see you,” Eli continued, looking up at him with wide pleading brown eyes.

Meaning he wouldn’t be showing himself to any new humans.

Jim wavered. It had been years since he’d gotten to watch a movie or do any normal human things. Merlin was out, so he didn’t really have to worry about when he arrived back at the cave.

He tapped his fingers against his thigh. His armor clinked.

But Arcadia…

Arcadia would be fine for a little. He had been close enough to the end of his patrol to see that Eli had been the only human about outside right now.

“Sure,” He said slowly.

Yeah he could work with this. He was making sure that Eli, the only human crazy enough to wander Arcadia at night, was staying indoors. That was totally doing his job, right?

“Really?!”

Jim’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile. Eli looked like he had been he’d been given a trip to Santa’s workshop for Christmas and just found out it was the real deal.

“Yeah, just tonight.”

One night wouldn’t hurt anything.

~~~~

“So this is where you’ve been disappearing to.”

Jim froze.

Merlin was standing in the shadows of the tree with his arms folded. His lips were drawn into a thin line.

Immediately a wave of guilt washed over him. He had only meant to hang out with Eli once but then… well… He’d had fun and Eli had had fun and he’d been invited back… and it would have been rude to refuse so he’d agreed to meet again … and that second visit had turned into a third and a fourth and…

And now he was here.

“Are...  are you mad at me?” Jim asked carefully.

Merlin sighed. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his forehead and rubbed them in circles like he had a headache.

“I’m not mad just disappointed.” He sounded it too.

Jim flinched, ears pressing down.

Merlin turned away.

“Come,” He said. “We’re going home.”

He disappeared far into the darkness of the woods and, after a quick glance back at the house behind him, Jim followed.

~

The walk back to the caves occurred in relative silence. Honestly Jim wished Merlin would just yell at him or something. As it was, the calm emotionless expression on his mentor’s face left him tense and anxious.

“You know what you’ve done wrong,” Merlin stated when they were back in their abode.

“Yes,” Jim said, hanging his head slightly. “I showed myself to a human.”

Merlin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“A simple slip up is one thing, but you repeatedly visited this human.”

“…But he already knows about me and is keeping it secret,” Jim said softly. “You’re always busy and I…” He hesitated. “It’s nice to have someone to spend time with.”

Merlin huffed.

“You have your training and Snip.” The cat in question opened an eye at the mention of her name. “If that isn’t enough you can always go to Trollmarket, I’m sure they can find you something to do.”

Jim’s ears pressed against the side of his head. There was certainly always something for him to do at Trollmarket, Bagdwella at least made sure of that, but they didn’t really like or trust him there. He remembered how they had first reacted to him and despite pretending otherwise he heard the whispers.

Abomination.

They had to test him with a gaggletack to make sure he wasn’t a changeling before they’d even allow him to roam free. He’d barely been able to hide his flinch when the iron horseshoe had burned his skin, causing his magic to buzz anxiously as it tried to make him shift but couldn’t since his normal form was halfway between his other two. The trainers he’d been assigned where nice enough but…

“It’s just nice to have someone my age…”

Merlin stood up. The metal feet on his chair shrieked as they grated on the stone floor. Jim flinched at the sound.

“Come,” He said sharply and the half-troll quickly obeyed.

Merlin led him to the large cave that served as their training room. Jim stood stiffly in front of the door as the wizard shuffled around in a pile of props.

“Hmm… Ah yes! Here it is.”

He pulled out a straw dummy and set it in the middle of the room.

“So you want to spend time with this… Elijah Pepperjack,” Merlin said. Jim twitched in surprise. How long had Merlin known about his visits to have found Eli’s full name? “I’ve warned you before that it’s too dangerous but it seems I should expect you to go against my advice anyway.”

Jim opened his mouth to protest but stopped when Merlin kept speaking.

“If you want to persist in this… this dalliance I suppose I can’t stop you, but I must make sure you know what you are getting into.”

He turned to the side and gestured.

“Let’s pretend that this training dummy is your human friend.”

Merlin raised his hand and Excalibur materialized in it. The lights of the crystals glinted off the blade and his armor casting motes of light on the floor.

“Defend him from me.”

“What?!”

“Come Trollhunter, show me how well you can protect someone.”

With that Merlin lunged with his sword toward the training dummy. Jim felt his adrenaline surge as he managed to just barely summon his armor in the nick of time. He threw Daylight, deflecting Excalibur and buying him enough time to get between Merlin and Eli… the training dummy.

The wizard didn’t wait for him to recover his sword and lunged forward slicing at Jim with rapid two-handed strokes. Jim was still somewhat off guard and couldn’t rally his concentration enough to resummon Daylight. He managed to call his shield and held it up to fend off the blows and tried to push Merlin back.

“Come,” Merlin snarled impatiently at him. “I’ve trained you better than this.”

Merlin caught the shield with one of his arm-blades. The next stoke of his sword hit the amulet. Jim staggered, disoriented, as the blue light flickered. Murmurs of distant voices whispered in his ears and his armor vanished. Merlin took advantage and dealt a fast two handed stroke against him. He cried out as it cut into his arm.

Excalibur’s magic burned and Jim dropped to his knees clutching at the wound with a pained snarl.

Too late he recognized the distraction. He forced himself to his feet in a panic, pulling his hand away from to wound to summon Daylight…

And stopped.

Excalibur was sticking out from the chest of the training dummy.

Jim stared blankly at it.

“See?” Merlin said.

He strode over to the dummy and pulled the sword out with a sharp tug, spilling straw across the floor.

“If that had been a human, he would have been dead,” Merlin continued in his lecture tone. “Ours is not world for mere humans. Do you think your enemies will hold back on you? Do you think they won’t hesitate to use friends against you?”

Jim shook his head. His voice seemed to have shriveled into a lump in his throat. His arm throbbed. He glanced down at it and saw a drop of blood trickle off the side of his arm fall onto the floor.

It felt like a vice was closing in on his ribcage.

He wanted to leave.

“Do you understand?” Merlin was asking.

“Yes,” Jim said quietly, voice barely audible. “May I go?”

“You may,” Merlin said. He sounded closer.

Jim flinched slightly when his… mentor laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I know this seems harsh, but I really do have your best interests in mind,” The man said softly. “The Trollhunter has always worked alone. It’s better that way. Now go take care of yourself.”

Jim listened silently, eyes still on the floor, as Merlin left the room.

The moment he was sure the wizard was really gone, he bolted for the door to the outside.

~

Jim wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in a dumpster but he didn’t particularly care. It was in a secluded part of town, there was no humans, no trolls, and no Merlin there.

The reek of the trash was subdued in the gentle patter of the rain and the light from the lone streetlamp barely reached him here.

He curled into himself and started shaking. He didn’t have any real words for what he was feeling but it felt like hurt and emptiness and a blade lodged in his chest all at once.

He wanted other people to be safe, he really did. But idea of continuing to fight alone until he returned to dust or stone… or whatever a half-creature like him became… felt so… so pointless. It wasn’t just Merlin being against him being friends with Eli. It was Kanjigar’s death, and his mom being gone and Trollmarket’s cold reaction to his appearance and… and…

A pained sob tore itself out of his chest.

It hurt.

He just wanted it to be done.

He just wanted to rest.

The sound of footsteps jerked him out of his misery and he looked up to see a mop of red hair, now drenched with rainwater, and a familiar pair of blue eyes staring at him.

They widened as they met his.

Nemesis, champion of Morganna, seemed every bit as shocked to see him as he did her.

~~~~

~

~~~~

Jim shifts slightly and the branch creaks under him. From his current position he can see through the widow of Elijah Pepperjack without the human spotting him. The teenager is currently sitting at his desk chewing on a pencil as he stares down at a book with furrowed brow. The warm light from his window stops just short of where Jim’s dark fingernails dig into the bark beneath him.

He shouldn’t even be here. He knows better than to ignore Merlin’s warnings. The wizard already has too many variables to deal with without Jim adding his own willfulness to the mix. Anyway, he’s really only looking out for Jim.

Jim knows that but…

But when he’d ran into Nemesis, he’d been ready to let her kill him. He’d seen her familiar face above him and been almost relieved. It wasn’t like he really had anything to live for after all.

And yet…

She hadn’t even tried. She had invited him to sit with her and patched the cut on his arm with an uncharacteristic gentleness. He hadn’t known what to do.

Then –in what was probably his most foolish decision ever- he’d asked her for advice.

She’d given it.

So here he is, contemplating the value of friendship based on the advice from an enemy.

Jim sighs and runs a hand over his face, ignoring the faint rasp of stone on stone.

This is insane. He should just leave. He’ll be putting Elijah in danger. There’s no way he can make sure that the human is always safe, not with the whole of Arcadia to protect.

He stands up and starts to turn away, but the warm glow of from the bedroom window draws him back.

“Do what's good for you, or you're not good for anybody,” Nemesis’ voice echoes in his memory.

The sincerity that he’d seen in her eyes causes a pang of something (something painful but almost sweet) to form in his heart. He just wants something outside of his duty… a chance to be someone outside of the Trollhunter. To be Jim again.

Can’t he be selfish just this once?

~~~~

Eli sits at his desk trying to work on his homework. He can’t focus. He’s been reading the same paragraph for the last hour but still isn’t sure what it says.

He makes a frustrated sound and throws himself back in his chair. It balances precariously on two legs as he shoves his glasses up and scrubs at his eyes.

“You’re losing it, Pepperjack,” He says reproachfully to himself. “Why would someone that cool want to be your friend anyway?”

“Eli!”

Eli looks up to see a blue face and glowing eyes staring in his window. He lets out a high pitched scream and topples over backwards.

“Eli! Are you all right?” His mom calls from downstairs.

“I’m fine!” He yells back. “Just tipped over my chair.”

“Again? You need to be more careful!”

Eli blushes but scrambles to his feet and quickly lunges forward to open his window.

“You came back!” He says, a hesitant, excited smile forming on his face as the blue creeper…. No, troll, he reminds himself… climbs into his room. He did come back. It had been weeks, Eli had started to think that he wasn’t going to.

“Yeah,” the Trollhunter says slowly.

He looks uncertain. His eyes dart from side to side before he turns around and closes the window behind him. He then closes the blinds for good measure.

“What… are you doing?” Eli asks hesitantly.

He’s never behaved this way before.

“We need to talk,” The Trollhunter says and Eli’s heart immediately plummets to his toes.

That phrase never leads to anything good.

“Wha… What do you want to talk about?” Eli’s voice sounds small.

He’d known that this whole thing was too good to last. Cool monster heroes like the Trollhunter weren’t the sort of people to be friends with nerdy nobodies like Eli.

The troll doesn’t seem to notice his hesitance. He picks up one of Eli’s model flying saucers and turns it around in his hands before putting it back and sitting cross-legged on Eli’s bed.

“You should sit down too.”

Eli obeys, the feeling of dread growing in his chest. The Trollhunter opens his mouth and Eli braces himself.

“I want to be friends,” He says, brows furrowed and expression grim.

Eli’s brain derails.

“Y-you do? But why…”

The expression and statement don’t really match.

“I need to explain some things first, so you know what you’re getting into,” He continues. “Then you can decide if you want to be friends.”

“Of course I want to…”

He is silenced by a sharp look.

“I told you when we first met that I was tasked with protecting Arcadia, right?”

Eli nods quietly. He certainly won’t be forgetting that meeting soon.

“There are a lot of people who aren’t particularly happy about that. In fact they would do anything… use anyone… to get to me…”

The troll looks down at his hand for a moment before clenching it into a fist. A soft growl rumbles from his throat, causing Eli to jump.

“If you decide to be friends with me… if anyone finds out… you, and your family, will be in danger. Do you understand?”

He continues going on to detail exactly what changelings and goblins and Bular are capable of. It was something he told Eli back when they first met and he was trying to discourage him from studying the supernatural. He sounds for all the world as if he’s trying to drive Eli off and he’s not entirely unsuccessful –the idea of putting his mom in danger doesn’t sit well with Eli- but as he’s talking the troll starts to slowly curl in on himself. His gaze drafts downward to study his clenched hand. He looks scared and lost.

“…Merlin thinks it’s a bad idea,” The Trollhunter is saying. His ears press low against the sides of his head.

Eli takes a deep breath and forcibly swallows down the lump in his throat.

“hey…” He tries to get the troll’s attention, but he isn’t quite loud enough. “Hey!”

The troll flinches and looks up.

“You said it was my choice if I wanted to be your friend right?” Eli asks.

The troll nods.

“I… I admit all this stuff sounds scary,” He says and his voice is shaking. Honestly he’s never been able to stand up to Steve let alone a monster like Bular but… “But it sounds like you’re lonely and I don’t really have any friends either and…” His voice cracks and he coughs a little and squares his shoulders. “And I want to try. You said a Trollhunter never gives up right?”

The troll nods again slowly.

“So if the problem is me being in danger then maybe...”

Eli hesitates thinking for a moment before an idea comes to him.

“Maybe you could teach me to defend myself! Then you won’t have to worry about always being there to protect me.

And maybe he could help out in protecting Arcadia. Eli thinks that sounds really cool, but he decides not to say anything yet on that. He doubts the Trollhunter will accept his help.

The troll’s blue eyes widen for a moment and then a hesitant smile forms across his face.

“That’s… that’s a good idea.” His shoulders relax slightly and his ears are back up. “That way I won’t have to worry as much about you investigating something and getting into trouble either.”

He gives Eli a hopeful look.

“So you really would do this?”

“Yes.” Eli says. He’s feeling a little cheesy so he holds out his hand. “Let’s be friends, Trollhunter.”

The troll cocks his head but takes the hand and squeezes it. His eyes study Eli’s face for a moment.

“Jim…” He says softly. “My name’s James Lake, but friends call me Jim,”

“Cool, I’m Eli,” Eli says and then blushes, rubbing at his hair. “Buuuut… you already knew that…”

The Trollhunter… Jim… (Eli’s new friend!) chuckles at that.

“Don’t worry about it.” He pauses, a serious look flickering across his face. “Though for future reference, you really shouldn’t just give your name to unfamiliar magical beings.”

“Why’s that?” Eli asks.

“For one thing, it makes it easy for other people to find your house… but in the right hands… well a name can be a weapon. Fae and some witches can use names to control people.”

“Oh,” Eli says with a shiver. “Is that why you didn’t tell me your name at first.”

Jim nods.

A warm feeling appears in his chest. That means that Jim trusts him.

“Thanks for telling me then,” He says.

“Thank-you for inviting me in,” Jim responds, sincerity shining in his eyes. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”    

~~~~

~~~~

Author Notes:

This is really the center-point of the plot. It happens before and after the events of the first chapter. I was going to do the two parts of this chapter separate but I decided I wanted to keep them together. (Partially because I didn't want to leave Jim in the dumpster.)

Merlin doesn't realize just how far he pushed Jim. In his attempts to do things "for the greater good", he's completely lost sight of the importance of individual people's feelings and needs (Aside from his own).

It was a good thing that Jim met Barbara in the circumstances he did and when he did. If he had met her in battle, he would have ended up being killed. A large part of winning fights is wanting to win and well... Jim had stopped caring. That said things get better for Jim.

I haven't quite decided what part of the story I want to work on next but we'll see. I'll probably do a chapter in the past again. Let me know what you think about the way I'm jumping back and forth between the past and present.

[ohmrlove]

Hello! May I have a request of the bois as kitties and their obsession of following after their owner MC. Well, for Victor, I think we all know he'd be 'that one cat' who likes to push stuff off high places just to tease you but also at the same time loves cats. Bonus if MC is the cat and the bois are her owner.

Hey there! So, due to the nature of the question and the fact that my answers can get kind of long, I’m only doing the first half with boys as cats. When the ask box is reopened, feel free to submit the MC as a cat prompt.

In the future I’d appreciate one question per ask, as that makes it easier on me :)

Let’s answer this question! =＾● ⋏ ●＾=

🍷 Victor 🍷

He’s the asshole cat

If you want to pet him, you come to him. He doesn’t come to you.

If he DOES come to you, he will sit on whatever you’re working on. Or if you’re reading, he’ll plop down in the middle of it. He’s decided he wants to be pet so you better give pets

Can be a food snob--it’ll take you a few tries to find something he likes. It’s best to get cheap trial tins of foods until you find a favorite

Most likely to do that thing cats do where they sniff something and gag

Will make the ugliest gremlin yowl if you’re holding him and he wants to be put down. He’s not completely against it, but he’ll DEFINITELY let you know when he’s had enough

He’ll grab your ankles about 40% of the time. He’s not even in a playful mood; he just wants to grab your ankles.

The type of kitty that has to be in the room with you, but pretends you don’t exist

Meows obnoxiously to locate you--you left? Um, excuse me! I’m not done!--just to meow in your face with a disinterested look upon finding you before going back to you not existing

Does the annoyed ear flick if he steals your seat and you try to sit with him anyways

Doesn’t like most cat toys. Prefers absolutely random things like cardboard tubes and hair ties

You can dress him up in little ties if you pay enough cat treats

The type to sleep on your face at night and only care a little.

He loves you, he’s just not going to show it. 

Will dart out in front of you for no reason. There’s an 80% chance he’s trying to trip you.

📢 Gavin 📢

A decently active cat that needs time to warm up to you

He’s pretty easy to buy over--wave around a couple of toys and toss some treats and you’ve got a new best friend!

Much cuddlier than Victor cat, but will disappear around company

Will blanket burrito with you

Chatters when he plays, and peeps to you in the morning

More about rubbing up against your legs and sitting on your chest

The type to bonk your head in the morning if he wants you to get up. May tap at your nose.

Has a favorite stuffed animal that he MUST have if he goes anywhere. Will be best kitty--no matter what--when he has it

The one you’ll hear running around your apartment at 3AM.

You’ll find him in unexpected, high places

Tends to hide in the pantry/cupboards

Must sit with you or touch you if you’re in the same room

You want to work on your laptop? He needs to be in your lap. That’s the cost.

The type to get really still if you give him catnip--he’s stoned out of his mind and will basically sleep. Or look like a blob on the floor.

Has torn up a curtain and scratched up some things, but learned not to do it after a punishment

🔬 Lucien 🔬

A very quiet, unexpectedly affectionate cat

Naps a lot

The type to watch TV with you, or sit next to you when you’re on your computer. Sometimes you swear he knows what he’s looking at

Will play with the mouse cursor for fun

To wake you up in the morning, he flops near your face. If you don’t look like you’re getting up, he’ll play with your feet

The one you’ll spend hours looking for because he wouldn’t meow back and it turns out he was curled up, blending in with your things

Stretches out across your lap for back scratches

You can pet his tummy. He won’t actually attack you, even if he puts his paws down. You think he enjoys how it makes you flinch and draw your hand away

The one with the loud purr

Tends to knock things off the counter out of curiosity

The type to stick his tongue in all your drinks (or his paw)

Likes to get behind you when you sit and try to make biscuits with your hair

Loves to put his tail in your face

Is it comfy? It’s his now. You found him in the bottom of your dresser once, in a nest of pajama pants

Give him a clear view outside and he’s a happy cat. You don’t know if he people watches or looks for animals, but he could spend all day up there!

Doesn’t like it when you’re away from him. Like Gavin, he has to be near you. Usually lays down on your foot or climbs into your lap

Figured out how to turn the bathroom faucet on so he can get free water whenever he wants

🎤 Kiro 🎤

The cutest cat ever

He loves people, and he loves you. Warms up to pretty much anyone but will ALWAYS prefer you over others

Has the cutest mews and can be quite manipulative

The type who thinks his bowl is empty when the food in the middle has been eaten. Will make an absolute RACKET until you investigate

Always asking for treats

Most likely to be an internet star--he picks up tricks fast and he’s the cat that can “talk” back

A needy baby. Loves to be carried.

Will settle for riding around on your shoulder

When you’re sitting down he gets right up on your chest, his little paws stretched out to touch your neck like he’s hugging you

The type to sleep in weird positions, like on his back with his paws in the air

Has the most fun with food containers and empty boxes

Most likely to steal your food and chew on things he shouldn’t

Very playful. If you’re using a pen--and not paying attention to him--he’s going to fight you for the pen now

The one you have to keep taking off of your keyboard or whatever your working on because he wants to be the center of attention

Will wake you up in the morning by trying to grab your cheeks or walking on you. Will probably try to eat your hair.

If you leave him, he’ll sound like the saddest creature on earth.

The one that has to go with you when you go to the bathroom because he thinks you disappeared

Freaks out when you take a bath or a shower because WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! IT’S WET IN THERE AND YOU’VE BEEN IN THERE FOR A LONG TIME!

The one that hides in your purse/bag and wants to go outside with you. You’ll have to get him a space backpack or a kitty harness and take him with you.

Gives you the most wholesome, noisy greeting when you get home, jumping into your arms

This was a really interesting question. I never thought about them as cats before. I hope you liked it!

[prism-sakura-s]

Gingerbread Houses

Chapter 4: Snow

Prompt: Fake Relationship for the Holidays, Snow Day

Warnings: sympathetic remus, mentions of being eaten (by raccoons), mentions of kidnapping, extreme pining

Pairings: Eventual romantic Intrulogical

< First >

AO3

@sanderssidescelebrations

~

Dawn of the Third Day.

“Logan.”

“Mmmmm,” Logan replied. 

“Logan.”

Logan half-opened an eye. “What time is it, Remus?”

Without his glasses, Remus looked like an incorporeal blob, but Logan could tell he was very excited about something, if the jerky movements were to suggest anything. 

“Oh, it’s like… eight.”

“Hm.” Logan shut his eye again and buried his face into the pillow. He heard a huff of disappointment from Remus. 

“Come on, aren’t you supposed to have your sleeping sched all correct and stuff?” Logan heard Remus complain. “Why are you so tired???” 

“I don’t maintain my sleep schedule all the time,” Logan groaned into his pillow. “Now, if you will kindly let me be, I’ll be going back to sleep.”

“But Logaaaaaaan,” Remus whispered urgently, “it’s snowing.”

Once again, Logan slowly turned his head to look at Remus. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Let’s look at it!” Remus said, starting to tug on Logan’s sleeves. “I wanna eat some of the snow!” 

“Then go,” Logan mumbled. “Just put on proper attire or you’ll catch a cold.”

“But I want you to coooooomeee,” Remus whined. 

Logan begrudgingly turned to look at the half-naked gremlin staring him in the face. “Why?” 

“I—come on Nerdy Wolverine!” Remus plopped onto the floor and wriggled around in what seemed to be a tantrum. “I don’t wanna go out alone! What if the raccoons eat me? Or someone kidnaps me?” 

“You’re perfectly capable of defending yourself, I’ve seen you handle a possum as if it were a cat.” 

“That’s only because I thought it was a cat,” Remus argued. 

“You’ve defended me and several others from harmful people before.”

“I didn’t do much-”

“You bit them. Many times.”

“Well-”

“And kicking them in the balls is always a favorite move of yours.”

“It’s not like I killed them,” Remus concluded, a victorious grin on his face as if he had made a great statement that Logan couldn’t possibly negate. 

“And you’re expecting me too?” Logan negated. “So that you could eat snow?” 

Remus blinked, his grin unwavering. 

“Don’t have an answer for that?” Logan smirked sleepily. 

Remus stayed silent for a while, though his face became a tad redder. Logan didn't think much of it, thinking it was probably because Remus was shirtless despite the rather low temperature.

“Mmk,” Logan said, turning over. “Enjoy the snow, I’ll be going back to sleep.” 

Logan heard a loud scuffling of feet before seeing Remus fly onto the bed beside him, face-first. He wiggled around to turn to Logan. 

"Pleeeaaaaaseee?" Remus pouted and projected puppy eyes once again. "I don't wanna be looooooneeeeelyyyyyy." 

Logan shut his eyes. "Let me sleep, Remus." 

"Loooooooooooooooo."

A groan.

Then, Logan finally sat up. "Alright, I suppose I could accompany you for a bit." He yawned, rubbing his eyes. "As long as I can go back to sleep after."

"Yaaaaaaayyyyy!!!" Remus cheered, shooting out of the bed. 

"Don't shout, you'll wake my parents."

Remus giggled and booped Logan on the nose. "Okay. Come on, Hugh Jacked-man!"

Remus ran out of the room. 

Logan's half-asleep brain tried to process everything that had just happened, especially the boop on the nose. That took way longer for some reason. Once he realized it, however, a strange feeling had built up in his chest.

"No," Logan mumbled, very not at all panicked, and tried to push it down. "Not today."

He buried his face in his hands and, unable to do much else, screamed rather mutely.

~

"There you are!" Remus grinned at Logan, who had just stepped outside. He now donned boots, and a sweater was worn over his onesie. Another sweater was draped over his arm. 

“I see you’re already engaged,” Logan remarked, amused. 

Remus rolled around in the little snow on the ground, clearly reveling in the experience. 

“There’s hardly any snow on the ground,” Logan noted, only just remembering that the South did not get as much snow as where he’s been living for the last few years. “You’re just covering yourself in mud.”

“It’s still fun!” Remus said. “And the ground is frozen anyway, so I’m not getting too dirty!” 

“Put on a sweater first, we must reduce the chances of getting some form of disease,” Logan sighed, holding out the sweater. 

Remus got up, snatched the sweater from Logan’s hands and quickly put it on. “Ooh, it’s very soft,” he gushed. “Like a baby butt! Thanks, boyfriend!” 

Remus ran back out into the yard and continued running around, trying to catch the sparse amount of snowflakes falling from the sky. 

Logan sighed and took a seat on the front porch. He was used to the sight of snow, having lived in the higher parts of the country for a while. But he had not seen this much snow in his hometown in a long time. While it was just a thin layer on the ground, Logan still felt a kind of comforting feeling, like he was witnessing something not seen everyday. Though, of course, with Remus there, it was to be expected. 

Speaking of which, Remus was now scooping up a mix of snow and dirt and attempting to make some sort of mutilated snowman. 

“Logan! Help me!” Remus invited. 

“I’m… still a little sleepy,” Logan said, waving a hand. 

“Well okay, just leave me to make a snow zombie all by myself.”

Snow zombie. What a ridiculous concept. So why, in this unreal expanse of a galaxy, did Logan find it so adorable?

It was completely irrational, Logan knew. Oh, he knew. Remus would never, in a million universes, be considered “adorable”. Yet Logan saw him that way. As well as fun, and quite intelligent, and… ughhh. 

Logan heard the door creak open, snapping him out of his thoughts—thank god—and a familiar voice said, “Well, I see ya boys are havin’ fun!” 

Maya Anderson was smiling at the couple outside. She was bundled up considerably more than either Logan or Remus. “I’m makin’ breakfast right now, so be sure to come inside in a few.”

“Alright, Ma,” Logan said. 

Mrs. Anderson smiled and went back inside. Logan sighed again. 

“Well,” he said, “There goes my extra sleep.” 

“Sorry Logan!” Remus called, having heard him. “Maybe you can sleep in the snow, it’s comfy!” 

“I’d… rather not, but thank you Remus.” 

Remus grinned and did another somersault. “If you say so!” 

[falling-stars-and-open-scars]

Well fuck {TW some meanspo directed at/for myself}

Note: I am a legit dumbass. Do NOT do what I do. I do NOT advise this for anyone but myself. I am NOT a doctor and willingly acknowledge that I am causing more damage in the long run. Please please PLEASE do NOT do as I do. You are far too good for this, kiddo. <3

May 25th, 2020

Hey guys. I know, I haven’t written in a while. Life’s been crazy and busy and stressful and yada-yada-yada, I ended up gaining back *ALMOST* all of the weight I lost at the start of the year (from 290, down to 270; then back up to 283). 

Suffice it to say, I’ve been SUUUUPER pissed at myself for not having more control of what I eat/drink, allowing myself too many breaks from the plan. What makes me even more upset is the fact that my best friend also started to lose weight (she was 199 and is now down to like 170) -- SHE has managed to keep it off {and of course, everyone is commenting on how good she looks}. BUT she also has prescribed medication to help her; so it’s not like she’s doing this by sheer willpower alone like I’m trying to do. She honestly doesn’t need to lose weight, she looks just fine for her frame/age; but she’s medically considered on the obese side and she wants to try to donate her eggs for money. {Let’s just ignore the fact that I’m like Morbidly Obese Level II >_>} 

My point is: she’s fine the way she is. People still find her super attractive. She can still FIND her size in any store she walks into. She can still eat and people won’t be disgusted by the sight of it; they actually encourage her to eat MORE because “Oh poor thin thing, you haven’t eaten since yesterday at lunch”. She can do everything I can’t. She’s still the pretty princess and I’m just the smart-ass fat sidekick. 

God damn, I just want to be considered beautiful. I want to feel comfortable in my own damn body.  I’ve started doing camming, and while I do have a small following, I absolutely HAAAATE the idea that they are ONLY following me because of a fat fetish that they have....they ONLY view me as attractive because of my size, like my size is something to be proud of {newflash: it’s not}. I’d rather be a cute, tiny thing, than this big blob of uggo. But, as it stands now, that is exactly what I am: a blob of uggo.

I don’t think I will ever get down to my 16-18 year old weight (which back then was 160-180). I think I need to accept that, the absolute best I can do will be 200. I will never be 160 again. I will never be 130 again. I will never be this small, fragile doll that people want to care for and love. At best, 200. Which, I guess isn’t bad for a 30 year old; I’d rather be 200 than 300. 

It absolutely sickens me to be this way; to be 30 years old and 300 pounds -- knowing that, if something doesn’t change, I WILL be 600 pounds at some point in my life. It disgusts me to think that, on My 600 Pound Life, they STRIVE to be my size or less. It disgusts me to think that my size is someone else’s goal because who tf wants to look like this, who tf wants to look like me?

So, I have decided that I need extreme help. Trying to do keto AND low carb AND restrict was too much...so now I’m just restricting (hardcore). From 1,200 kcal limit per day to 800kcal limit per day (except on work days, then I will allow 1,000 because I have to lift 50+ pound dogs of various temperaments multiple times a day PLUS deal with pissed off feral cats -- I NEED to have my strength and wits about me those days so I don’t get bit and I can’t do that if I feel like ass/feel like I’m going to pass out). 

Yesterday, I did amazingly well and was actually UNDER my limit for the first time in months {capped off at 547/800}. Today, it’s so far so good at 380 {and it’s not quite lunch time yet; speaking of which, I think I’ll have a diet cherry coke and call it good}. I haven’t weighed myself in about a week and, given that ol’ Satan’s waterfall is brewing in my uterus, I don’t think I will right now; I’ll wait a little while longer. 

Overall, I’m still really mad at myself for letting go, for undoing all of the work I put in. I think that, deep down, the fact that no one noticed my weight loss or commented on it; made me unmotivated. Because 30 pounds lost on a 300 pound person doesn’t LOOK like much of a change; whereas a 30 pound weight loss on a 180 pound person IS a noticeable change, even though they lost the same amount of weight. I think I crave praise and positive attention because I cannot tell it to myself and truly believe it -- too many years with that negative voice, that negative self-talk, to believe anything good about myself; so I MUST hear it from others whose opinions I actually value.

{Ooof, that got deep real quick}

So, in summary:

800 cal limit, EXCEPT on work days (So Monday, Thursday, and Friday; Volunteer days do NOT count even though I’m basically doing my regular job but just slapping a “volunteer” label on it)

Period/Satan’s Waterfall/Monthly Subscription does NOT excuse me from weight loss. You want chocolate? Tough, eat an apple. Oh you’re cramping and irritated? Food’s not gonna fix that, ride the wave and deal with it.

If you dont know the calorie count, PUT IT TF BACK!

Ring-Fit at LEAST once a week for at LEAST 20 minutes {in addition to the physical demands of your job}

[serahsanguine]

Vacation Series Pt. 2. Halloween Surprises Ch, 4

This is the second book in a two-part series

Book one. - pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6

Book Two. - pt. 1, pt, 2, pt. 3, 

All chapters can be found Here on Ao3

This Chapter Rating; NC-17 NSFW

Tagging; @skullsmuldon @baronessblixen @today-in-fic

*********************************

Chapter 4; Day Four - Vanity Fair

Mulder woke up and felt the cold sweat of Scully’s skin as he rolled her over slightly and nuzzled his nose into her strawberry smelling hair. Whispering reassurances over and over again tell her he loved her, that they were safe. She opened her eyes adjusting to the darkness she could tell she had been crying and she clung to Mulder’s body. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, care to tell me about it?”

“I will but not now, I'm going to grab a glass of water.”

“Ok,” he said simply not wanting to push the matter and make it worse.

“I’ll be quick I promise, the fires nearly out and the room is quite chilly” she leaned back over to him her finger gracefully touching his cheek “I’m ok I promise”

He smiled weakly and watched her wander to the bathroom. She switched the light on and grabbed the glass she kept by the sink and ran the water cold before filling it and taking a sip.  

It didn’t agree with her and everything she had eaten the day before all came up and into the toilet bowl. Mulder was up in a flash and by her side for support. His hand grabbing her hair to keep it out of her face and his other hand rubbing her back. He helped soothe her as best he good but he felt useless.

5 minutes passed and everything that was coming up was out and now all that was left was her dry heaving into the bowl. She sat on the cool tile floor and Mulder had grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water to apply to her head and neck. 

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked concerned.

“No, but I think that’s it for now,” she replied solemnly.

“What happened?"

“The bowling alleys hotdog disagreed with me,” she said trying to calm her breathing down and trying no to throw up her stomach acid. 

“You did say you didn’t think it tasted right,” he said in confirmation. 

She nodded and rung the washcloth out and ran it under the tap before replacing it to her skin. “That'll teach me to listen to your advice and eat junk food.”

“This is not my fault,” he said defensively and looked away at the floor.

She smiled and locked her fingers with his, he looked up into her face and smiled back and realized she was teasing him.

“Nice to see you're making jokes, are you ready to go back to bed?”

“Yes, I think so.” 

Scully stood up and went to walk out of the bedroom but Mulder scooped her up under the legs and carried her to bed. 

“I can walk you know,” she said laughing.

“I know but I felt chivalrous,” he replied smiling back down at her. 

He wrapped the blanket around her skin and she was asleep instantly, it was a little while before he fell back to sleep making sure she had everything from a sick bucket a fresh cup of water. He was worried for her and hoped she was up for tomorrow as he knew she was really looking forward to the vanity fair.

//

Both Mulder and Scully had been awake for several hours now dealing with some of the preparations for tomorrow's Halloween party. 

The Lone Gunman had gone way overboard on the pumpkins, buying 25 of them to be exact, all of them needed to be scooped and cleaned with the inside of the pumpkin put in a bowl to make pies for tomorrow.  Mulder and Scully were sat by the kitchen island, Scully’s hair was tied back in a low ponytail keeping the pumpkin from attaching itself to her hair. She was wearing a low cut vest top with a cardigan buttoned up, her jeans covered buy an apron, she was cleaning out her second pumpkin. Mulder was wearing black joggers and a grey tank top also cleaning out his second pumpkin. All of them agreed to do 5 pumpkins each and once cleaned they would get to do a different design on each one.

Mulder watched as Scully was finishing up, he just stared and watched for awhile he knew she was still feeling quite ill from yesterday but was putting on a brave face as they sat trying not to let on. But when you look deeper she was aglow her skin porcelain and freckled but her cheeks were red from the fire and warmth of the house. Loose curled hair framed her beautiful face her eyes downcast at the task at hand. Her nose is small and quaint, her lips pink luscious and kissable but they were covered by the tip of her tongue just darting out from between her lips. He smiled because she didn’t know she did this, and she only did it when she was concentrating he never brought it up in case it made her self conscious and she would stop. 

She looked up and caught him staring at her and instantly she blushed it didn’t matter whether they were in a relationship or not whenever he looked at her like that it sent her into little schoolgirl crush mode. 

They got through the rest of the pumpkins creating creepy ghosts, ghoulies, monsters and cats, even carving an X into the largest one they had between them. 

Mulder placed a tea light in his last pumpkin and held it up next to him, he had carved a face with a large smile into it.  

“Scully, You light me up,” he held up the lit pumpkin and then looked at her with a cheeky smile on his face.

She looked at him and smiled and then proceeded to laugh at his awful pun.

“How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since we started. ”

“You’re incorrigible” she carried on laughing. She managed to calm herself down some minutes later and watched him as he scooped some of the ‘guts’ of the pumpkin into his hand.

“Don’t you dare Mulder.”

She watched as if in slow motion he pulled his hand back and threw the pumpkin insides at her. His evil smirk said everything she needed to know as she picked up some of her insides and threw it back at him. 

“Do you really want this to turn this into a food fight, Scully?

“You started it, Mister.”

They threw pumpkin back and forth until the whole kitchen was covered in orange blobs and seeds he had definitely achieved his goal of helping to cheer her up and not think about how awful she felt.  

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Anytime, but we need to get this place cleaned up before the boys get home.”

She looked around at the room and sighed their little bit of fun had caused so much chaos. 

“Ok, I will get the mop and you get the broom.”

Mulder followed Scully to the cleaning closet, she grabbed the mop and he grabbed a Halloween broom. 

He looked at Scully, witches broom in hand “Stick with me.” 

She rolled her eyes and he watched her laugh as she walked back into the kitchen. He put the decorative item down and grabbed the real thing and proceeded to help her clean up the mess they had created. 

//

That Following Night.   

Scully was still under the weather and feeling sick but was miles better then she was feeling the night before. She was just putting the finishing touches on her outfit. She wore a red dress that came up just above her knees, black tights and red pumps. Her hair was down and curly around her face, her face with just a small touch of makeup. Her gold cross sitting firmly in the middle of her neck. 

She walked out of her bedroom and down the stairs finding Mulder staring at her from his seat in the living room. His face in awe of her beauty. 

“Mulder close your jaw, you’re catching flies.”

“I… ugh… Wow”

She blushed profusely. But quickly turned it around back on him. She raked her eyes down on his form, his Jean's were dark and acid washed and they curved his ass perfectly, she remembered the first time he wore them, his ass looked smackable. At least this time she could actually touch him. His attire above the waste consisted of a grey t-shirt paired with a black leather jacket. 

“You don’t look so bad yourself Mulder,” now it was Mulder's turn to blush. Scully slipped on her black trench coat and hooked her arm inside Mulders and they walked into town towards the vanity fair. 

10 minutes later they arrived, it was beautifully decorated, there were streamers full of ghosts and cobwebs everywhere complete with freaky looking spiders. Chinese lanterns with amazingly drawn mythical creatures hung from above and they had pumpkins of every variety placed all over. What really surprised them both is they even had characters from Mulder’s new favourite movie ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas’ with people dressed up as Oogie Boogie and Jack Skeleton, even children adorned costumes as Lock, Shock and Barrel. 

“Mulder, can we go over there first?”

Mulder followed Scully gaze as she pointed towards the shooting stall. He smiled. 

“Only if you think you can beat me, Scully.”

“Is that a challenge Mulder?” she said emphasized his name, he simply nodded in return “You’re on” and off they walked towards the shooting stand. 

The stands colours were bright orange and yellow, exactly what you would normally find at a funfair. But instead of shooting a family of plastic ducks you were shooting a family of pumpkins. 

“You being a hot shot can go first.”

“Thank you,” he was feeling cocky and she could tell she as she watched him line up with the plastic cork gun in hand he shot them hitting ten out of 13 targets.

“Not bad Mulder.”

“Your turn Scully but that is hard to beat.”

“We shall see,” she thought she walked to the stand picking up the loaded cork gun taking the right stance she aimed the gun and fired hitting every pumpkin and not missing one. 

“Wow Miss, that was brilliant” Scully beamed a full toothy grin at the stall, “Which large plush would you like?”

“That one please” she pointed at the rather large grey alien hanging from the ceiling. 

“Here you go, Miss.”

“Thank you,” she took the large plush toy from the elderly man, said her goodbyes and they left to find another attraction.  

They found the candy floss stall and Mulder ordered them both a cone each. 

“I have a sugar crush on you,” he said sweetly.

“Oh brother,” as she rolled her eyes and in search for a small bench to eat and talk away from the crowds. 

“Here you go, Mulder, this is for you,” she said handing him the grey plush toy.

“I.. Don’t know what to say, Scully. You didn’t have to give me this you won it fair and square.”

“I may have, but It's not that I had to give it to you it, I wanted too. Just say thank you, Scully, and give me a kiss. ”

“Thank you, Scully.”

He leaned forward brushing his lips against hers and the fireworks of passion ignited there, he pulled away but not before she pulled him back again, her tongue probing inside his mouth tasting cotton candy and mulled wine.

“Mmm, You taste good Mulder.”

He pulled away his cheeks red and a boyish grin upon his face. 

“How about the House of Horrors next?”

“Is that the one with all the mirrors?” he opened his mouth to reply but she carried on talking not letting him say a word. “Because if it is the answer is definitely no. We have been there and done that, never again.”

“Ok, so that’s out the picture, how about the haunted house?

“Really?” she raised her eyebrow in scepticism. 

“Yeah, come on Scully it will be fun.”

“Fine why not.”

They soon finished their cotton candy and went to the haunted house. Stepping inside to complete darkness, Mulder went first in protection. Scully laughed making a comment that plastic does not kill anyone. They walked the corridors as plastic mannequins decorated with fake blood jumped out of nowhere. Vampires, jumping spiders also popped up, Scully could not help but laugh as every time something made Mulder jump he screamed like a girl and then pretended to be all macho and act as if nothing happened. Finally, they got to the end and it was straight on the ghost train which was full of mostly the same stuff but with added fog, mist and neon lights. Scully took the opportunity to snuggle into Mulder's side while they went around the track. He was warm and smelled like Paco Rabanne and her Paris perfume, it was a gentle mix but one that certainly suits them both. 

Their evening at the funfair came to an end and it was time to go home. They took a small stroll along the beach watching the moon reflect on the calm ocean. They arrived home and noticed the Lone Gunman had kept the fire going in the living room for them so the house wasn't as brisk as the outside. They took off their coats and both wandered upstairs, Scully slipping her pumps off along the way and depositing the rest of her clothes in the bedroom, she slipped into her cotton full-length pyjamas before sliding in between the sheets. She watched as Mulder unclothed and found an old t-shirt to lay in bed with making sure to grab the book before getting comfortable. They would both forgo their nightly routine, they were much too tired.

With Mulder propped up with pillows behind his back and Scully laying on the side of his body with her face and head in his chest. He began to read. 

“On the brink of what was once known as ‘The River Hill’ at the east of Main Street in Williamston, there formerly stood an old hotel building. Owned and operated by the Edward Yellowy family in the early and middle 1800’s, the hotel was frequented by captain and sailors. From barges and ships while they were docked at the Roanoke River wharf just below ‘The River Hill.’

He looked down to find she was still awake her eyes were drooping but she was listening intently. 

“Incidentally, one of Edward Yellowlys' sons, Edward C. Yellowly, practised law in Greenville and was one of the principles in what was said to be among the last duels fought in North Carolina. The duel took place at the Virginia-North Carolina state line along the Dismal Swamp canal in October 1947, and Yellowly’s opponent, C.F. Harries, another Greenville lawyer, was killed in the encounter. 

“Returning to the old hotel, it had a handsome mahogany stairway and a large balcony covering the entire front. The front veranda was elevated so that the carriages could drive under it. It’s said that a misunderstanding developed between a honeymooning couple staying at the hotel and the young bride leapt off the balcony to her death it was the reason that the place developed a reputation for being ‘Haunted’.”

He stopped and listened to her calm breathing and soft snore he carried on reading to make sure she was completely asleep before putting the book down, that and he hated leaving a story not finished. 

“The hotel was finally abandoned, but an ancient piano was left in it. Some of the neighbourhood children in the old days would go into the abandoned structure and play the piano. There were also rumours that musical sounds could be heard in the building when no one was around. Some thought the music was played without human hands, and an examination would show that there was undisturbed dust on the keys of the piano. When this writer was a child, all children were afraid to go into this old hotel or even pass by the place when alone. It was widely known among the children as ‘The Haunted Hotel’.”

Mulder leaned over to his side of the bed and placed the book down softly, Scully was still asleep on his chest and he fell asleep along with her. 

[bibliolokust]

‘gray matter.’

another that i had clear (yet, it turns out, incorrect) memories of reading, ‘gray matter’ is a relatively straightforward tale of body horror in that long tradition of horror stories in which a human is somehow transformed over the course of time into something entirely Other and it’s the first time king really delves into the voice of grumpy old white new england retirees that he would hone all throughout his career and, while some of the old timey turns of phrase read a bit goofy, it’s surprising how assured he already is with that voice and neither the narrator nor his fellow elderly barroom buddies read like caricature.

while i had remembered the general plot of a child’s drunken layabout of a father turning into something between an amoeba and the inscrutable alien organism from irving s. yeaworth’s 1958 teen horror film, ‘the blob,’ what i had misremembered was the story being told from the child’s perspective and, rather, the narrator hears the details of what has happened to little timmy grenadine’s father, richie, secondhand after the child had told the bartender the story, coming in all aflush and on the edge of a breakdown to get his father his nightly case of beer.  and i can’t help but be struck at how much more assured king is inhabiting the elderly narrator and how much more gravitas that gives the story than how i had remembered it.

as the bartender shows that he brought his massive .45 caliber handgun (referred to as a ‘hogleg’ and a ‘frenchman’s pecker’ in a couple bits of that ol’ new england jive that come together far better than one would expected given how clumsy and... off so much of his simile and metaphor usage was in ‘the mangler’) and explains the sad tale of richie grenadine drinking a bad can of beer and turning into a photophobic grey ‘lump’ we’re treated with a wonderful combination of pathos and hardness that captures, very effectively, that particular sort of old masculinity that king has struggled with, so far, as there’s a general sort of dislike already pointed at richie grenadine that’s tempered with a sort of ‘takes all kinds’ broad sympathy for the man.

before the men reach the apartment building that the grenadines live in, trudging through one of those hellish winter storms that northern new england is famous for, we’re treated to what i firmly believe is another of a few kernels king wrote that eventually grew into his monumental (and monumentally flawed) novel,’ ‘it,’ with the remembered tale of a man named george kelso who worked for the bangor public works department who suddenly quit after coming out of the tunnels with his hair turned white (a biological misunderstanding that, nevertheless, pos up in a number of kings work [although it’s usually forgivable as it adds to the general feeling of folk tales and urban legends that suffuse much of king’s oeuvre]) and sets to drinking himself to death while, at one point, mentioning that he saw a ‘spider as big as a good-sized dog setting in a web full of kitties an’ such all wrapped up in silk thread’ (the titular cosmic horror of the later novel being described as something that, while we cannot truly comprehend it, our brains reconcile as being akin to a giant spider that uses the sewers of derry, maine, to den in and travel through.)  this image, combined with the nature of the boogeyman preying on terrified children in the previous story and the subterranean horror of ‘jerusalem’s lot,’ to me, clearly plant the seeds of ‘it’ (and one can even argue that the ironworks disaster in the novel harkens back, if only slightly, to the machinery gone malevolent in ‘the mangler.’)

right before the men enter the building, henry tells how young timmy saw, through a judas hole (peephole), his father remove a dead cat ‘swole up all stiff’ with ‘little white things crawlin’ all over it’ and eat it, which chills the men even in the bitter cold of the winter storm.  they enter and the narrator describes the stink of the place, likening it to a cider mill in summer, and a dead dog he had once dragged from under the porch and it’s clear that king is taking a certain glee in trying to ever so gently gross the reader out, to unsettle the stomach rather than schock, and it’s rather effective and when one of the men cries ‘look what we’re walkin’ in!,’ we’re treated to a vision of a carpet eaten away by puddles of gray slime (the implication in which being that the poor bastard, richie grenadine, had not just  become something inhuman but something whose flesh, whose very substance, was inimical to life as we know it.)

readying his firearm, henry calls to richie, telling him that he should come out and get his beer and it’s at this point, with richie’s transformed voice being referred to as ‘low and blubby,’ ‘like a mouthful of suet,’ and ‘horribly eager’ as he (it?) tells henry to pull the tabs on the beer and push them inside because he (it?) can’t that henry questions richie by saying ‘it ain’t just dead cats anymore, is it?’ which causes the narrator to recall that two young girls and 'some old salvation army wino’ had disappeared during the night, recently, and richie responds by threatening to come out.

as henry tells richie that he better, we’re treated to the image of the door bulging out before bursting open, echoing back to the biological horror that richie grenadine had become and, as everyone but henry flees (him firing at least three shots from that handgun of his) we learn that narrator caught a glimpse of the richie thing and that it had four eyes, instead of two, and seemed to be undergoing a process similar to the binary fission of bacteria, and he begins to almost obsessively start multiplying in his head (getting to ‘32,768 times two is the end of the human race’ after the men return to the bar to wait for henry’s return.

‘gray matter’ being one of king’s most effective early creepers, it combines the small town working class (that he’s finally getting the hang of properly describing) with a relatively facile body horror notion quite well and his affected prose elevates the piece (and the horror of it) rather than detracting from it and it’s worth noting that, up through this point, every one of the stories in ‘night shift’ have been open ended, letting the reader decide the ultimate fate of the players and this is something that has had varying degrees of success (it works well in ‘night surf’ and ‘graveyard shift,’ terribly in ‘the mangler,’ and just feels sort of tacked on to the end of ‘jerusalem’s lot’ as the REAL last of the boon family moves in) but, here, that open endedness, that uncertainty, of whether henry will win and return or whether he’ll be eaten by richie leaves so much more at stake and creates a truly chilling ending to what just might be one of king’s best short stories.

[dabiapologist]

[My Hero Academia Fanfiction]: come find me in the dark

Sequel to Warmth

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Shigadabi, Shigaraki Tomura/Dabi

Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, but also comedy, shigaraki really fucking hates the cold, Dabi isn't gonna let him live it down, 0-60 angst, Dabi has a song stuck in his head, reference to the “Dabi is a Todoroki” Theory, brief implications and mentions of child abuse

Summary:  It’s astounding how a person’s sense of self-preservation can make them seem like someone totally different in the moment.

The last thing Dabi expected to hear was an audible sigh of relief, and he swears he heard a tiny ‘thank you’ creep out from between those chapped, scarred lips. He catches himself before he comments on it, though. It must've taken a lot for the mophead to swallow his pride and come down here again after all the mocking, so he lets it slide for now.

It’s ammunition he’ll store for another day.

Read on || AO3

Read Warmth on || AO3

Tomura stirs at the smell of smoke drifting into his nose and the low rumble of humming from beneath him. The TV is on in the background, but the volume is too low for him to make out what is being said. His eyes flutter open for a moment before pinching shut at the light that immediately hits his eyes.

“...Ugh…” He groans as he rolls over onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable again. He doesn’t remember it ever being this warm in his room.But this is nice, he thinks as he settles onto his stomach and buries his face back into the dark fabric of his bedspread.

...Wait.

His bedspread isn’t dark. And it sure as fuck isn’t this solid, either.

Tomura lies there for a moment, fingers prodding the unknown surface beneath him, mind riddled with sleepy confusion and trying to understand how the hell his sheets went from off-white to a dingy black, and, more importantly, from medium plush to rock hard.

That is, until a new, albeit tired sounding voice floats into his ear from right next to him.

“Mornin’, sunshine.” Dabi drawls through a cloud of cigarette smoke, “D’ya have a nice sleep?”

While it was previously noted that Tomura is not always rational when his personal comfort is at stake, let it also be noted that it takes Tomura a good five minutes or so before really coming online when he wakes up.

And for those five minutes, Shigaraki Tomura is a stone-cold disaster.

He lifts his head slowly, still trying to register in his sleep-fogged mind just what the hell this ashy black and purple blob that is talking to him is, and why he’s lying on it instead of his bed. But once he blinks said blob into focus, it only takes about a fraction of a second for the chain-reaction to begin.

The bar is suddenly alive with noise; specifically death threats and several strings of impressively strung together insults and curse words, all courtesy of their resident leader in villainy and gamer enthusiast.

“What the actual fucking fuck- ”

“I’m gonna take all these hands, and shove them so far up your fucking ass-”

“I’m gonna slit open all those fucking staples and wear you like a mothershitting jacket-”

Luckily for Tomura, there isn’t currently anyone in the bar to witness his rather undignified fall from grace.

Except for Dabi, of course.

Throughout it all, Dabi just sits, calmly smoking his cigarette and half-listening as Tomura runs his insult well dry and right into a drought. It’s more funny than anything, mostly because through all of it, Tomura hasn’t actually moved from where he is curled up against Dabi’s side, and his yelling tantrum sort of spiraled into him sleepily muttering his strings of expletives as he buries his face back into Dabi’s chest.

When he does finally go silent, a good ten minutes later, Dabi finally sees his chance to speak. “Oi, mophead, as precious as watching you drool on me for twelve hours straight has been, I really need to fuckin’ pee.”

It takes a minute for his words to process, but once he starts jabbing his finger into Tomura’s ribs, the smaller man finally shifts. Like a switch flicking on, Tomura jolts and flings himself to the other side of the small couch, wild-eyed and limbs akimbo. Dabi stares back, exhaling the last of his cigarette.

“...What the fuck.” Is Tomura’s first truly coherent sentence of the morning.

“Yeah, I was wondering that for the first four hours, too.” Dabi replies.

“Okay, but actually, what the f-”

“Pause,” Dabi holds his hand up to silence him as he stands up from the couch, smacking his leg to wake it up, “I’ve had to pee the whole fucking night. You can have your meltdown after I do that.”

Without another word, Dabi leaves the room, dragging his still sleeping leg and complaining, and without another word, Tomura stares at his retreating back, still trying to comprehend what the hell is going in this bar.

It’s hard to focus while he’s still trying to shake the sleepiness from his mind and limbs, but the only thing he is really sure of at the moment is that there is a draft in here, and it’s awful.

“I’m pretty sure I have an ulcer on my ass.” Is the first thing Dabi says when he comes back a few minutes later.

“You don’t get ulcers that quickly, idiot.” Tomura quips groggily as he turns to him from watching the news, face wrinkled in disgust. “But that wouldn’t surprise me. I’m pretty sure there’s a new form of flesh-eating bacteria festering on this shitty old couch.”

Dabi plops down in the exact same spot, chuckling. “And yet you’re still sitting on it, dickhead. For the record, it’s because you wouldn’t let me get up or even move since yesterday.”

“Yesterday ?” Tomura repeats.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been sleeping here since fucking yesterday ?”

“Mmhmm. Well, technically,” Dabi turns to him, “We’ve been sleeping here since yesterday. Since, you know, I was also here. Hungry, and needing to pee. And not being able to.”

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?!”

“Yeah, I tried that,” Dabi grimaces. “A couple of times...” He trails off as he brings his hand to his shirt collar and tugs it down. His collarbone is littered with scratches and teeth marks. Tomura flushes. Today just keeps getting better and better.

“I did that?”

“Yeah, man. You’re even more of a savage in your sleep.” Dabi mutters as he sets his shirt right again, “What, did you just escape from the fucking woods? Sure seems like it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Tch, and to think I had spent the day sleeping so I could stay out on patrol all night. And instead I stayed up the whole night watching old ass movies on TV while you bit and slobbered all over me. They played the Mask three times in a row.”

Tomura wipes off some crusted spit on the side of his mouth disdainfully. “The fuck is that?”

“I dunno, some American movie, I guess. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I sat through it three fucking times because there was nothing else on, and now I have Cuban Pete playing in a loop in my head. So thanks.”

Tomura stands up and walks over to the bar, snatching up the morning paper from the end of the bar. “Pfft. Whatever.”

But Dabi doesn’t let him escape that easily.

The edges of the paper start to disintegrate when Tomura crushes them in his grip. Instead of staying over on his gross couch, or better yet, leaving, Dabi comes over and slides into the seat next to him, hooded eyes twinkling with amusement.

It was foolish of Tomura to hope that Dabi would let it go just like that. He really should’ve known better.

“So… are you planning on actually telling me? Or are you going to act like it didn’t happen?”

The paper rips. “Tell you what ?”

“Why you were sleeping on me?”

Tomura tries to focus on the article --the part that isn’t dust yet-- that he’s reading, but he can feel Dabi’s eyes on him, probing. He pointedly stares at his newspaper, hoping that if he stays silent long enough, Dabi will eventually give up and fuck off.

But after five minutes of uncomfortable silence and even more uncomfortable staring, Tomura starts to think this might be futile.

“I’m still waiting.”

“You’re gonna be waiting fucking forever. Now get away from me.”

Goddammit. He never would’ve pegged Dabi as someone who was persistent, let alone annoyingly so; and yet here he is, now nearly ten minutes later, still trying to read his stupid paper while Dabi stares at him with his chin resting in his palm, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. They both know that Tomura’s nerves are wearing thin.

“Did you know that you purr in your sleep sometimes?”

More of the paper turns to dust.

“I never thought I’d say this, creep, but you sure have your cute moments. You kept making these little noises when you’d move, and when I wanted to get up, you’d like, paw at me. So precious.”

That paper never stood a fucking chance. And it only gets worse when Dabi lets the topic drop in favor of something even worse.

“They call me Cuban Pete, I’m the king of the rumba beat, ” Dabi hums the rest, adding too many ‘ chic-chic-ky-boom ’s in as he shakes his fists like he’s holding maracas.

Tomura has never wished for telekinetic powers more than he has right now; he’s been glaring at a bottle of scotch on one of the shelves, willing it to fly across the bar and hit Dabi right in his stupid, smug, chic-chic-ky-boom-ing face.

“I don’t know what it means, but it’s really catchy.”

“.....”

“Chic-chic-ky-boom, chic-chic-ky-boom ,”

“Shut up! Fuck.”

“Then answer my question.”

The bell above the door suddenly chimes, signalling a new arrival at the bar. Toga flounces in, grinning and tap-tap-tapping at her phone at the speed of light, singing some annoying pop song that Tomura is sure he would hate if he were actually listening to the words.

Her smile explodes when she finally looks up and notices the two of them sitting at the bar.

“Tomura-kun, you’re finally awake!” She says as she throws herself onto him in a big hug. “You were sleeping for so long! Like an evil, angry sleeping beauty!”

Dabi snorts. Tomura’s hand twitches.

“I need a fucking drink.” He mutters to himself. The fact that he hasn’t eaten anything yet makes no nevermind to him. The faster he can get drunk, the better.

He nudges the girl off of him and slides out of his stool. He grabs a bottle off the shelf, not really caring what it is as long as it’s alcohol, and brings it back with him to his designated spot.

“He really bit you?! Oh wow!” Toga suddenly chirps, catching his attention; more accurately, it makes him want to murder everyone in the bar. It feels a lot like that day the old man brought these two along and they all almost killed each other.

Right now, Tomura is regretting letting them live.

“That’s kinda kinky,” She says, giggling as she ogles at the welts and scabbed over teeth marks that trail up and down Dabi’s neck and collar.  

Dabi smirks. “Yeah, crazy right? He almost ripped one of my staples out. The guy’s an animal.”

“Shut... the fuck... up.”

“Why were you sleeping with Dabi, Tomura-kun?” Toga asks. She and Dabi are wearing identical smiles; one that makes Tomura feel like he’s being cornered. Whatever. It’s their funeral. Once he finishes this bottle.

“Yeah, mophead. Answer the girl.”

“Do you two want to die today?”

Toga pouts. “But you were so cute, Tomura-kun! Like a sleepy little kitty! And Dabi was cute, too!” She says, tugging on Dabi’s shirt, “He didn’t wanna wake you up even though you were drooling on him.”

If it wasn’t holding his precious liquor, the bottle would’ve met the same fate as the newspaper.

“I fucking drooled?!”

Dabi nods. “Yeah buddy, you were running like a backwater creek. I never would’ve guessed that you had that much moisture in your body at one time.”

Tomura wishes he wasn’t immune to his quirk. Death would be better than this.

“Oh my god…” He mutters.

“Ah, Shigaraki Tomura, you’re finally awake.” Kurogiri says as he enters the bar. His shapeless countenance shifts upward at the edges, into a misty smile.

Understandably, Tomura does not return the gesture. “Great, you’re here now.” He snaps. Kurogiri looks taken aback at the outburst, but only for a second, used to Tomura’s moods swings.

“Yes, great.” Dabi parrots, eyes flashing. “Yo vapeman, maybe you can answer us. Why was mophead over here draped on top of me like fucking Cleopatra when he has a perfectly good bedroom upstairs?”

“It’s Blackmist, and because he was cold.” Kurogiri, in a poorly timed moment of not paying attention to his young master’s mood or the mood of the room, answers without thinking. He’s stocking a shelf, so he doesn’t see the acidic look Tomura throws at him.

“Kurogiri…” Tomura growls, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his gaze quickly turns to the two next to him. Dabi and Toga are both staring at him, their mouths making little ‘o’s, though Dabi’s is quickly turning into a full-on smile.

Toga squeaks in demented delight. “Oh! I get it!~” She sing-songs, shaking Dabi’s arm roughly, “Because Dabi is always warm ‘cause he shoots fire!”

“You were cold? N’aww...” Dabi teases, a hand to his chest in mock tenderness. “Sorry, have you never heard of a little thing called a sweater? Or a blanket?”

“I’m wearing a sweater right now, you pit stain.”

But the insult goes unheard as Dabi snaps his fingers. “Oh, but wait. That pile of clothing on the floor must be yours then, huh?”

“.....”

“You were so eager to snuggle up with me-”

Tomura abruptly stands, tossing the gritty, tattered remains of his newspaper on the counter with a low growl.

“Fuck this. I’m leaving.” He grunts. They hear him stomp up the stairs; the sound fades away steadily and then all of a sudden gets louder again when Tomura comes back and, without a single word, grabs his forgotten liquor bottle off the counter and storms off again. The three of them watch him go wordlessly, until the distant slam of a door is heard.

No one says anything for a beat, not until Dabi pulls out his cigarettes and realizes he’s down to two sticks. Seems about right, since he spent the entirety of the night smoking to distract himself from how bad he had to go to the bathroom.

“Shit.” He curses with a sigh. “Hey, brat.”

Toga looks up at him, still clinging to his arm. “Yeah?”

Dabi pops the last cigarettes out onto the counter and hands her the empty box. “You’re better at blending in than I am. Go steal me a pack of cigarettes.”

Toga considers it for a second before shrugging. “‘Kay.”

“Get those, but the ones that say 100’s. I like those better.”

“Okie dokie~!”

“Don’t let anyone see you, Himiko!” Kurogiri calls after her as she exits.

Dabi stares at the door as it swings shut, lighting up one of the cigarettes and taking a deep inhale. “I probably should’ve told her to get us food, too.” He says as afterthought, “I’m fuckin’ starving. Eh, whatever.”

“Were you two the only ones here?” Kurogiri asks as he continues stocking the empty shelves.

“Uh-hunh.”

“Where is everyone else?”

Dabi shrugs. “No clue.”

“I see.”

They sit in silence after that, Dabi smoking and watching the news while Kurogiri goes around the bar performing his usual morning routine, including picking up the bundle of sweaters and overshirts Tomura had unceremoniously dumped on the floor the night before.

“When I play the maracas I go chic-chic-ky-boom, chic-chic-ky-boom. Yes sir, I'm Cuban Pe- ”

“...I beg your pardon, Dabi?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just this stupid song I have stuck in my head.” Dabi replies, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Heh, so our little mophead hates the cold, huh? I guess that’s not surprising. He’s sort of tiny under all that black. He’s so light I barely even noticed him.”

He recalls one show he saw on TV once a long time ago, some nature show about reptiles. “It’s kinda like when snakes get cold, like how they look for the warmest thing to raise their body temperature back up. Mophead’s kinda like that.”

Kurogiri chuckles, nodding in agreement. “That’s an accurate analogy, though I hope it wasn’t too much of an imposition. He doesn’t sleep well in the winter time, for obvious reasons.”

Dabi laughs. “It’s fine. I know I was teasing him a lot, but I just like ruffling his feathers. To be honest I didn’t really mind all that much. I actually... I liked seeing that side of him. Makes him seem less like a complete psycho and more like a real human.”

It is then that something from the night before comes back to him. Something that had been sitting like a thorn in the back of his mind since then. “Actually... say, blackmist… can I ask you something… kinda personal?”

Kurogiri looks up at that. “Personal?”

Dabi hesitates for a second, taking a slow, contemplative drag on his cigarette, choosing his words carefully. “Did you know that mophead… that he cries in his sleep?”

Kurogiri goes still for a moment, foggy yellow eyes widening as he looks over at Dabi. “... He does?”

Dabi nods, exhaling thoughtfully. “Yeah.” He looks up from the counter. “This morning when I tried to wake him up... I think he was having a nightmare.”

Dabi turns in the stool, facing Kurogiri. “He wasn’t sobbing or anything, but his eyes and cheeks were wet. He kept saying that he was sorry. And...” He pauses to look up the dark stairway. “He said, ‘please don’t hit me’.”

At that, Kurogiri stops. “I…” He stumbles over his words, before trailing off, at a loss. Dabi notices his discomfort, wondering if maybe he should’ve kept it to himself after all.

“I won’t pry,” He says with an indifferent shrug, “But, ya know...” He pauses for a beat, a wry smile forming on his lips. “...It kinda hit close to home.”

Kurogiri’s eyes sink, as if to furrow with the weight of that casual admittance. “...I see.”

“That’s part of the reason I left him alone. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up after hearing that. It sort of freaked me out. But also, I get the sense that if he knew I heard him say that, he might really try to kill me.”

Kurogiri chuckles, despite himself. “That would be a fair assumption.”

The two share a laugh at that as Kurogiri resumes tidying up the bar.

“I do hope you’ll keep that information to yourself, Dabi.” Kurogiri says after a long silence.

“Naturally,” Dabi says. “I have no reason to tell anyone that.”

Dabi pulls over an ashtray and taps some long forgotten ash off the end of his cigarette. By then, most of it is already on the counter-top. “People are at their most honest when they’re angry, but who you really are shows most when you’re asleep, I think. And for all that talk and all that rage, he’s just a scared kid who never really got to grow up.”

Kurogiri nods somberly at that, but the soft ‘I can relate’ that follows cuts him deep. After all is said and done, he’s glad that Tomura accepted Dabi, and Toga, and everyone, into his organization. It’d just been the two of them before, and Kurogiri is glad that his young charge finally has others around that can relate to him on his level. Even if they tease him to the point of homicide.

“And he is cute when he’s asleep. Toga hit it right on the head. He is like a little cat. Fluffy and irritable.” Dabi rubs at his collar. “...Just wish he didn’t bite the shit out of me, though. I mean, it didn't hurt or anything, but still.”

“I apologize for that.” Kurogiri says. “But try not to tease him too much.”

Dabi quickly swipes the ash off with his hand when Kurogiri’s back is turned. “I make no promises, vapeman.”

“Blackmist. ”

*******

He hadn’t intended to stay at the bar that night, but in the end, Dabi decided he didn’t really feel like going back to his rundown hovel of an apartment which was on the other, even shadier side of town, but he didn’t feel like joining Twice and Mr. Compress out on patrol, either. He liked his crappy couch here better than the glorified army cot he called a bed, anyway. Besides, he rather liked the ambiance of the bar after hours.The dim, burlesque lighting settled him down, and Kurogiri didn’t mind if he left the TV on, for which Dabi was grateful. The white noise in the background and the pale light from the screen helped him fall asleep.  

He pillows his arm behind his head and shifts onto his side, curling into the worn but soft cushions of the couch. Some time passes as he stares at the inside of his eyelids, his mind slowly emptying itself of the day’s events and his ever-racing thoughts. He’s almost completely drifted off when a sudden presence makes itself known right above him.

“Oi,” grunts the familiar voice.

Dabi’s eyes flutter back open. He can just make out Tomura’s light hair and scowling face staring back down at him, but it’s not hard to see that he’s at least twice his size from all the layers he’s got on. And it certainly doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he’s here.

Dabi can’t help but grin up at him. “Cold again?”

Tomura looks ready to spit nails down at him, and for a second, Dabi is certain he’s going to get a tongue lashing for all the teasing earlier. But then Tomura’s jaw snaps shut, and with a huff, the younger man slowly nods in affirmation.

“...yeah.” He mutters, clearly ashamed of himself.

In the silence of the room, almost fading in with the soft laugh track playing from the sitcom in the background, Dabi can hear Tomura shuddering and his teeth chattering.

Well, Dabi thinks, it is snowing outside tonight. He supposes that that is something normal people, as in, people that don’t have a fire-emitting type quirk, would notice. To him, it’s just another night. But to Tomura, who he can see is trembling even under a million layers, it’s a fucking nightmare.

Dabi rolls his eyes with a sigh, but still turns over and lies flat on his back. “Come on, then.”

It’s astounding how a person’s sense of self-preservation can make them seem like someone totally different in the moment.

The last thing Dabi expected to hear was an audible sigh of relief, and he swears he heard a tiny ‘thank you’ creep out from between those chapped, scarred lips. He catches himself before he comments on it, though. It must've taken a lot for the mophead to swallow his pride and come down here again after all the mocking, so he lets it slide for now.

It’s ammunition he’ll store for another day.

It takes a few minutes and a few ‘accidents’ (“You just kneed me right in the balls.” “You deserved it.”) before they properly settle on the cramped couch, but once Tomura finds his place splayed out against Dabi’s side like before, Dabi can’t help but notice that this is way more comfortable than he’d ever be willing to admit out loud. He can feel Tomura’s shivering body gradually beginning to relax against him, milking the warmth provided by his quirk.

Creepy lunatics like Tomura shouldn’t be this cute, but here he is. Being cute as hell. It’s not fair.

“Um, ‘kay. Goodnight, I guess.” Dabi says, not taking it to heart when he doesn’t get a response. And for a few minutes, the room is quiet. Awkwardly quiet, but quiet nonetheless.

Tomura’s gone still, and his breathing has evened out a bit, so Dabi assumes he’s asleep already. His own eyes drift shut again, and he sighs the last bit of tension out of his body. Dabi is almost out when,

“I heard you, you know.”

Dabi’s eyes snap right back open. Fucking hell.

Dabi tries to look down at him, but all he gets is a face-full of light blue hair. “Heard what?”

“You talking with Kurogiri earlier. I heard you.”

The conversation replays over in Dabi’s mind, particularly the part about Tomura crying in his sleep, and Dabi goes rigid. The subject of Tomura’s past and Father, the hand affixed to his face normally, are the one taboo subject among the league of villains, the one thing that makes Tomura see red faster than anything else.

Dabi swallows thickly. Well, he’s lived an alright life, he supposes.

“Listen, I-”

“...was I really crying?”

Dabi tenses. But it’s not out of fear. It’s from flat out shock.

He never thought he could hear someone sound so meek, least of all someone like Shigaraki Tomura. And yet here they are, lying together on a cruddy old couch in dark bar on a random Tuesday, and Tomura sounding like he’s on the verge of tears again.

He has no idea how to handle this. Tomura is nothing if not unpredictable on his best days, and they all learned early on that this particular subject is a veritable minefield.

Shit.

“Yeah, you were.” He breathes out reluctantly after a moment. May as well be honest.

He can feel Tomura begin to tense next to him, and his hand starting to clench into a fist, bunching up Dabi’s shirt.

“Hey, hey, don’t do that!”

Dabi strokes at the now trembling hand, carefully but firmly coaxing the lethal digits out of the tightly balled fist Tomura had made. When they’re all laid out flat on his stomach again, thumb up, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“What are you gonna do if you accidentally kill your new heater?”Dabi jokes, trying to lighten the mood again. But Tomura is dead silent, and to be honest Dabi feels a little unnerved by it. It’s safe to say he has stepped on the landmine.

“Hey-”

Tomura shuffles awkwardly against him, leaning further into his neck.

“... sorry .”

And just like that, the weight of that single word, of that tiny, childlike utterance, nearly crushes the air out of his lungs. It’s the most pathetic, heartbreaking thing Dabi has ever heard in his life. For the first time ever, truly, he is at a complete loss for words.

His hand moves on its own before he can even process what’s he doing, or the very real consequences it might incur for him later. This might get him killed, but he just can’t help himself. He leans down, brushing Tomura’s messy bangs aside, and, his life expectancy be damned, he places a soft kiss on the damp skin underneath, followed by another. And another.

There is a small gasp of surprise, but for once, it’s not followed by a snappy insult or a death threat. To his surprise, Tomura’s head tilts up a bit, and Dabi takes it as silent approval of his sudden show of affection.

“You’re not the only one who had a shitty dad.” He whispers, carding through the soft curls, finding himself enjoying the feeling. Tomura is really fluffy. And this might be pushing it, but he spreads his fingers out, moving his hand in small, serene circles. He’s never had to comfort someone before, and he hopes this is how it goes. The feeling is somewhat alien to him, but it’s not really unpleasant, either.

Tomura relaxes after a beat, laughing quietly at that. Dabi feels like he should say something to fill the sudden quiet that follows, but nothing really comes to mind. So in the end, he decides to just let it be.

They fall into a semi-comfortable silence for a long while after that; so long that Dabi is sure that Tomura has finally fallen asleep. His hand drops to the bony waist, cracking his knuckles out of habit, and lets out a silent yawn.

He decides to have a quick cigarette before he falls asleep, half-watching an infomercial for some garbage product that Dabi can’t imagine anyone ever actually using.

“They call me Cuban Pete, I’m the king of the rumba beat,” He starts whisper-singing mindlessly, “when I play the maracas I go chic-chic-ky-boom, chic-chic-ky- uugff!”

“Don’t you dare start with that bullshit.” Tomura rasps, one bleary eye cracked open and glaring.

“Fucking hell,” Dabi mutters, rubbing his now sore ribs, “This is what I get for being nice.”

Tomura reaches for his hand and places it back on his head. “Keep doing what you were doing before. I like it.”

Dabi smokes the rest of his cigarette, fingers making tiny soothing circles on Tomura's scalp and occasionally curling the light locks around his fingers, wondering how it was that someone's hair could be so fucking soft. They fall asleep like that, with Dabi’s fingers tangled in Tomura’s hair, and Tomura curled against him like a lifeline.

********

“So, is this gonna be like a regular thing with these two?” Spinner whispers to Twice the next morning.

“Eh, just leave ‘em alone, man! No big deal!” Twice replies animatedly, waving it off. “But yeah, we should probably wake them up, right?”

“Well, how about that, ladies and gentlemen?” Mr. Compress quips, a quarter dancing over his knuckles idly. “Call me crazy, but I think we’re seeing a new act beginning.”

“...if you three fuckers don’t want to be burned alive, I suggest you leave. Now.” Dabi’s quiet, albeit groggy voice suddenly cuts into the chatter like a knife. “Mophead’s a grouchy riser.”

“...You know he’s drooling on you, right?”

“Don’t worry about it.”