#i always knew shed rather have them as a kid

[kriegborderlands-moved]

i’m so fucking tired

[detectivestucks]

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18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Yandere Tobi/Obito x F!Reader

Summery: Obito found you paying your respects to his memorial and an obsession with his first love's best friend blossoms. Soon he finds that he will do anything and everything to protect you, his delicate peach.

Warnings: Stalking, Violence, Kidnapping, Fingering, Nipple play, Unprotected Penetration, Virgin Reader, implied threat of suicide.

Word Count: 9.7k

Author's note: Yes, I know the timeline is a bit altered, it was a creative decision. Deal with it. :)

Itachi and Kisame remove their hats as they return to the hideout looking slightly worn out, presumably from battle. They had just finished scoping out the Leaf in search of the nine tails jinchuriki and Itachi’s little brother, Sasuke.

“Did everything go okay?” Pain asked

“Yes, we ran into my former captain.”

“Itachi had it covered but the copy ninja's annoying boyfriend started attacking and then some shinobi we couldn’t see sent shockwaves into the ground that sparked a small tsunami.”

“It was at that point we thought it best to retreat. We know the jinchuriki is still located inside the village. There was no need for further engagement.”

Obito felt his chest constrict. Shockwaves...he knew that jutsu. That was the trademark of Rin’s best friend. That was a jutsu unique to you. But you had left the village a long time ago. When had you come back? 

Itachi being the only one among them who knew Tobi’s identity, quickly noticed the shift in Obito’s stance. The rest of the group, completely oblivious to the insignificant comic relief, did not notice as Obito exited the room and hurried towards the village. 

Rather than scouring the Leaf hunting for you, he waited at the one spot he knew you’d come, the memorial yard. Sure enough it only took one evening to catch you bringing lilies to your best friend’s grave. Obito cried with you as you shed tears for your friend but then you did something he didn’t expect, you stopped at the memorial stone to pay your respects to him. 

“Obito, I wish you knew how much I cared for you. You didn’t deserve what you got. You were too good for this world.” You dragged your fingertips along his name, tears streaming down your cheeks as you remembered the boy you loved as a child.

You…cared for him? He was… too good?

Obito felt a pang in his chest. You were just like her. So kind and sweet. Always seeing the best in people. Even poor retches like him. He wanted to thank you but he didn’t want to scare you.  Instead he let curiosity get the better of him and followed you home. He watched you through the window as you did your nighttime routine. Seeing you at peace alone in your home brought him contentment. He  snuck up to the window’s sill to catch a closer view as you got into bed and drifted to sleep. It brought him comfort to see you rest and he took that comfort with him as he finally returned to the hideout.

The next day, plans for tracking the other tailed beasts including the three tails had Obito feeling emotional. Itachi caught how stiff ‘Tobi’ stood during the conversation and soon after caught him leaving the hideout to go see you. He found you at the training grounds running drills with Kakashi’s team.

“Y/N-sensei, I wanna learn a new jutsu!”

“Now Naruto, I am under direct orders from Kakashi to work on chakra control drills with you three. A new jutsu will be no good if you don’t have a way to command the chakra to execute it.”

“When will Kakashi-sensei be better?”

“He’ll be better soon Sakura, don’t you worry.”

Obito sat in the trees watching you for a few hours until the jinchuriki kid was done pestering you. He was such a nuisance but you didn’t lose your patience even a little. The same could not be said about his teammates which seemed to only bring you amusement. When you were done you walked over to the memorial stone and gave your gratitude to your fallen comrades before heading home. 

You were so much like her. Beautiful and sweet as a peach. The way you cared for and nurtured others, it took a hold of his heart. He could watch you all day and never get bored. You were his light in the darkness of the Akatsuki. 

The next day he went out with his partner on their mission. While Deidara requested alone time so he didn’t need to suffer Tobi’s presence, Obito used kamui to visit you. Carefully watching from a distance till you fall asleep. Just like he did every time he visits you. Following the same ritual as before. He’d enter your home and play with your hair, stroking it as you slept. Some nights he would lay with you and breathe in your scent while you were none the wiser. It was in these moments that he knew he needed to protect you. His delicate little peach. No one in this cruel world would bruise you. He would make sure of it.

One evening while you were paying your respects to your friends, a jonin he didn’t recognize approached you. The man brushed your hip and backside and you pulled away as he asked you on a date. The audacity of the man to think of romance while you were mourning your lost comrades. You had told him no and he left but something told Obito it wasn’t over. This was clearly a man who needed to be stopped. 

The next day the man came to you again and held your hips while he asked to take you on a date, a little more forcefully than before. You had declined his request once more and politely pushed his hands off of you before turning to walk away. He had called out to you but before he could say anything further Obito had dragged the man into his void. The shinobi looked around bewildered. Obito growled at him from behind his mask.

“The lady said no” 

“Where the fuck am I?!”  

“A place no one can hear you scream so don’t give me a reason to bring you back here.” If the man could see Obito’s face behind the mask he surely would’ve wet himself. But instead in a facade of bravery he hurls insults at Obito

“A fuckin coward relies on tricks. Be a man and show me your face.”

“My face is none of your business, as for tricks, I have none, just superior prowess.” Obito makes his voice thick and deep, tapping into Madara’s tone of intimidation. “If I see you bother her again it will be the last time you speak.”

His facade is broken and his throat bobs as he swallows his pride. “Fine, no pussy’s worth a fuckin death threat.”

“Good, now that we understand each other, you may go.”

Obito materializes the man back in the village while he teleports himself over to the tree outside of your home. He spots you walk up to your door and head inside. He yearned to be the one greeting you, welcoming you home,  rather than outside in a tree. You should come home to his loving face, not a room of darkness. 

Instead he waits till you are sound asleep to touch your hips where the other man had touched them. He replaced the man’s predatory touch with his loving one. You rolled into him, your subconscious nestling into his presence. He held you, almost falling asleep from your intoxicating pheromones as they lull him into a state of bliss. When he was sure you wouldn’t wake, he slipped his body out of your bed, replacing himself with a pillow as you searched for his comfort. 

His thumb brushed over your forehead before he disappeared from your home. His beautiful peach ripe for the picking.

While masquerading around as Tobi, Obito couldn’t help but feel lonely and isolated. His thoughts of you began to consume his mind. Every opportunity he had to visit you, he took. He had disappeared so often that the Akatsuki almost forgot about him, not that they were complaining about taking a break from his annoying persona. 

He noticed that you and Kakashi had become close. You were always assisting with his young team and visiting the cemetery together. Obito didn’t like this one bit. Kakashi would pluck his sweet peach from him. But he had to remind himself that Kakashi did keep you safe when you joined his team on missions. He took care of you when Obito could not. Though that didn’t dull his need to claim you, take you as his own. The feeling was intensifying, swelling every day. 

He found himself hunting down every man who so much as looked at you. Kakashi was the only man who’s affection he let slide…even though he was the one who made him the most angry. Maybe it was his sentiment for his old friend. Maybe it was his fear of Kakashi’s skill. Either way, he let him be, not wanting to catch the copy ninja’s attention. 

The remaining miscreants were hunted without mercy. Sometimes he couldn’t help the bloodshed that was inevitable. He was unable to restrain himself, when it came to his peach, there was no limit to what he would do to keep you safe. If they showed no remorse for their predatory stares and their greedy thoughts he would gladly hear them scream before stopping their hearts. A trail of blood secretly followed you but it was all in your delicate name.

He kept tabs on everything you did, especially when it came to your missions. He had to ensure your safety. Recently learning some of the details of one of your upcoming missions, he knew he’d have to keep special watch over you. It was a dangerous mission with Hidden Mist shinobi that had been under consideration to join his troupe. He couldn’t risk history repeating itself and no longer cared if Deidara or Itachi figured out what he had been doing with his spare time. Even though you would be joining Kakashi on this mission, it wasn’t a guarantee of your safety. He already knew that too well and he must protect his sweet peach at all costs.

He stalks your group as you travel through the woods, earning him a side eye from Kakashi who knew something was up but couldn’t quite pin his finger on who the lurker was. You asked him what was wrong but Kakashi refused to say anything, not wanting to tip off a watching Obito that he knew they were being followed. 

Nice try Bakashi, but I already know your tricks.

Soon you came across your target. As predicted they put up quite a fight. You and Kakashi made a remarkable team fending them off. Your mission was to capture them for intel but the confrontation with the targets escalated to the point that elimination was deemed necessary. Obito was impressed by your strength. You took on three of them at once, knocking them down with your earth style shockwave. You manipulated the magnitude, where the earth would fracture, where it would cave in, and even where it would snap up. It was an impressive jutsu but it was not foolproof. He watched you closely, ready to intervene if it ever became too much. He watched you so closely that he hadn’t noticed the back up Mist shinobi that had been summoned. Kunai thrown from the trees flew at you as you went to weave more hand signs. You lept out of the way but still one caught your leg and the other grazed your thigh.

No.

Before Obito could even breathe he was in front of you, mangekyou in place, murder in the front of his mind. His stance was so protective, you didn’t doubt whose side this unknown stranger was on for a second. You simply pulled the kunai out of your leg allowing the blood to flow freely before going on the defensive. 

When a second wave of backup came, you did what you could but you were overwhelmed. Kakashi and his team could not keep up with the stampede of attacks. The fear for your safety caused Obito to snap. He went on a homicidal rampage, annihilating the entire group with gruesome bloodshed, bringing both yourself and Kakashi to a halt. 

In your stunned transe you didn’t catch the shinobi who snuck past your blind spot and stabbed you in the chest. When Obito turns to slice down the man he sees you clutching the kunai. In the span of a single heartbeat he dropped his weapon and pulled you into his void, bending over you in a state of panic. 

He stole your body from the battlefield so quickly Kakashi almost missed it. Kakashi finished off the last of the Mist shinobi, making certain that the life of the man who attacked you would drain by his hand. He stood up in alarm asking Naruto and Sakura if they saw who the man was that took you away. Neither of them did and Kakashi instructed them to search the nearby area for you.

Obito’s hands shook over you as he went to remove the knife, holding pressure where it once had pricked you like a pincushion. You had no idea where you were or who this man was. You had just watched him slaughter nearly twenty men to protect you immediately before his abduction. You would have been terrified if you didn’t have a more pressing issue to tend to.

“My peach, how do I help?” 

In your state of confusion you thought you misheard him. He must have you confused with someone else. You feel your consciousness begin to slip as you speak.

“Do you know…medical…ninjutsu?” it came out as a whisper.

“No” he whined

“Need…Sakura.”

“I can do that.” 

Obito goes back to the scene of his crime. Bodies strewn all over the field. He felt accomplished to see them sprawled out and covered in red.

“Hey you, girl”

“Me?! What did you do with Y/N-sensei?!”

“She’s safe. You know medical ninjutsu?”

“Yeah”

“Meet me over there.” 

She looked at the masked Obito with severe skepticism. He nodded at her and walked away, swirling out of sight as he did, stepping into his void to retrieve you. 

He lifted you up, supporting under your shoulders and knees. He held you close, his entire body tense with worry but somehow gentle. He felt so warm as you were growing cold from your wounds. Despite the horrors you saw him commit, you laid your head against his chest as he carried you back outside to a sheltered spot behind a few trees and a bush where Sakura was waiting.

He laid you down and instructed Sakura to do what she had to while he eagerly watched. Sakura gave him sideways glances many times when she felt she could afford to risk the distraction. Who was this terrifying murderer? Why did he have a fixation with you? After twenty minutes Sakura lowered her hands, panting from the amount of chakra used.

“There.”

“She’s healed?”

She nods, “She’s healed. The major damage at least.”

“Thank you”

He scoops up your body and retreats back to his void as Skaura shouts at your disappearing figures. 

You were out cold, resting for nearly a day when you woke up in a makeshift bed in a dark endless room filled with large gray blocks. 

“Where am I?”

You scan your surroundings but it hurts too much to move. The mysterious masked man suddenly appears in the room causing you to jump, quickly followed by you grabbing your chest in pain. 

“Careful Peach” he says as he rushes to your side, falling on his knees beside you.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” you inquire with eyes screwed shut in pain.

“Because you are my delicate Peach. I need to take care of you.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself just fine, thank you.” you say through clenched teeth, feeling the pain radiate over your entire chest. This man was clearly insane. Despite how he took care of you, you knew you were in danger.

“I wouldn’t call your current condition ‘just fine’, Peach.”

He feels your forehead, looking for signs of fever.

“Just who are you anyways?”

“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’re okay.”

“It does matter. And I need to go back to my team, let them know I’m okay.”

“The girl knows you’re okay, she’ll tell them.”

“Yes, but I need to get back to them. I need to-”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Disbelief filled you, yet the earlier bells of warning were officially verified.

He looks at you and shakes his head. “No.”

You look at him stunned, fear swelling. You look around the dark empty space starting to wonder where the exit was.

“You’re not going back. They can’t protect you. I know that now. You will stay with me. Here.”

Stunned into silence you look up at him. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you finally say to him, “You can’t keep me here.”

“I can and I will.”

Obito watches as terrified anger blossoms on your face. You stand up in spite of the pain, searching for an exit. Glancing over your shoulder at him as you move further and further away, frantically peering behind every gray pillar and block.

“You won’t be able to leave on your own.” he calls to you. “Only I can teleport you in and out of here.”

“And where is here?” You say, walking back towards him with a guise of bravery.

“My void”

Your jaw fell open. “Your what?”

“My void. Only I have access to it using Kamui.”

Comprehension made your eyes flood with tears. You were trapped. A madman who just slaughtered a fleet of shinobi to save you has trapped you in another dimension to ‘keep you safe.’ You looked up at him pleading, “I want to go home. Let me go home.”

“I can’t…it’s not safe.”

“But my home, my friends, the village…”

“They will be fine without you.”

Starting to realize he was serious, you begin to plead. “At least let me tell them where I have gone. That way they don’t come looking for me. Let me say goodbye.”

“Peach, I can’t risk you running away. I can’t risk you getting hurt.” He reaches out to pet your hair and you shy away from his touch.

The tears leak down your cheeks, feeling helpless. You walk away and sit down, turning away from the masked man, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your head against the tops of your knee caps.

Obito, feeling pain at seeing you so sad walks up and puts a hand on your shoulder, “It has to be this way Peach, I’m sorry.”

He leaves you alone to sulk. You would be fine. You would grow to accept things the way that they are. You would grow to love him in spite of how it started. It was all going to be okay.

When he left in a swirl you wept. You allowed your mind to panic and wander to all the terrifying possibilities. What was he going to do with you? Why was he obsessed with you? How were you going to get out of this? 

The more your mind reeled the quieter your tears became. Eventually you collapsed back onto the ashen floor. As you lay there, staring up at the black ceiling of his void, exhaustion and sadness ebb you to sleep. 

You wake up the next day to find a large chunk of your stuff from your home was suddenly in the void. He had made the effort to move your belongings to you, even bringing many of your most cherished items such as your favorite clothes, your favorite mug, the blanket you sleep with every night, and your photos of Obito and Rin. 

How did this man know these would be the items you’d want most? How long had he been following you? You felt a shiver roll down your spine.

What you presume to be hours later, the masked man returns to check on you. He’s more timid than he was before. Approaching you carefully. 

“Thank you” you say, looking at the floor, “for bringing me some of my stuff. I’m still pissed, and I’m not staying here, but I appreciate the effort.” You were terrified but you didn’t want him to know that. You were going to find a way out of this. You just had to figure out how to get out of this damned dimension first.

If only you could see the smile below his mask. Overwhelmed by how cute you are he pulls you into a hug. You’re stiff with terror but you feel his strong torso pushed up against your own and you can’t help the little part of you that is left breathless. It feels familiar and warm but you can’t place why.

“I love you Peach.” he says as he holds you in his arms, laying his head on top of your head. He was insane. You reply to him with a shaking voice,

“If you loved me you’d give me some windows instead of dreary slate abyss. I can’t even tell what time of day it is.”

“Sorry, voids don’t work that way, Peach.”

“Sorry, I guess being abducted is new to me.” you forced the sass into your tone. You were petrified but you needed a way out of here. You figured maybe you could manipulate his affection for you.

Obito winces at the word abduction. He prefers to think of it as protection

“What? You didn’t think I’d be okay with this, did you? That is the title of what this is.” You weren’t sure where this bravery came from but he was buying it.

“At least I’m not trying to poison you against your own clan, or acting as the architect to kill your childhood crush.” he said with a venom that made you believe he was speaking from experience but you were too focused on your own situation to care. Your false bravery turned into false anger.

“Sorry to steal the opportunity away from you but I don’t have much in the way of a clan and my childhood crush is already dead.”

His face snapped and locked onto yours. “What did you say?”

“I’m not repeating myself, I know you heard me the first time.”

You watched as his throat bobbed beneath his black mask. Why did that impact him so much? Who was this guy anyways? He acted like he had known you your whole life yet you only know him as a mask and tuft of hair.

“Who are you?”

He turned and walked away from you, “Someone long dead to you”

Well that didn’t answer any questions. If anything it brought up more.

“Well if you won’t tell me who you are, then tell me what to call you.”

“Currently the world knows me as Tobi.”’

“Do you want me to call you Tobi then?”

“No…”

“Then what do I call you?”

He paused. “I guess Tobi is fine.”

“Okay, well Tobi, I want to go home. I am not spending my life tucked inside this vault.”

“That’s out of the question.”

You inhale deeply. Acting skills front and center. “Then I guess my safety isn’t guaranteed.”

He glanced over, tilting his head, giving you a questioning look.

“Your top priority is my safety. I can think of a lot of ways to make myself unsafe all alone here in this little void of yours,” You taunt him with your words as your eyes dart around the room.

His blood boiled over. Were you really suggesting what he thought you were? And over some dumb sunlight?! His hands twitched by his side.

“Tobi, if you intend for this” you say pointing around the void, “to be the rest of my life, it will be a short one because I’m not doing it.” you cross your arms. Of course you weren’t actually suicidal but you were going to say anything to better your circumstances. He may be your psychotic captor but he seemed to have a weakness for your well being and you were going to pull at that thread till he unraveled.

He heaved a heavy sigh before grumbling. “Give me a day to figure it out.”

“And how will I know if it's been a day?! I can’t tell time without the sun or so much as a frickin watch!”

The theatrics were working. 

“I’m sorry Peach, I’ll be back.”

He fled from the void with his tail between his legs. You let out a huge breath. How you were able to pull that stunt off was beyond you. Desperation breeds its own strength. You hoped with all your might when he came back it was to get you out of his little dimension. 

You waited, having absolutely nothing to do. No books, no games, no radio, no food, no beverage…nothing. 

You mind tortured you with thoughts. You wondered how everyone was back home, rejecting the demons of your subconscious telling you that you may never see them again. 

I will find a way out of this. 

You strolled around checking out what was behind all the gray boxes. Surprise, it was more gray boxes. You climbed each one, beginning to count them as you went. You were usually a very ambitious person but there was nothing to do. You began playing with your jutsu to see if it would work in a void. Update: it does. You brought an entire kilometer to rubble just for fun and treaded up the path you created to get some exercise. Then you jumped block to block, back to your little makeshift bedroom waiting for Tobi. Eventually you got tired so you made yourself ready for bed hoping that when you woke up he would be back with updated living arrangements.

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

You turn over as you stir and nuzzle into a hand that is softly petting your hair. 

“Good Morning Peach”

You stiffen before your eyes dart up to his. Mask of bravery back in place, you greet him. “Good morning Tobi.” He winces. He hates how the false moniker sounds coming from your mouth. 

“I see you started destroying my void.”

“I was bored so I decided to train.”

A hearty chuckle left his throat. “I made arrangements but please understand I will not sound or behave like myself where we are going.”

“And why is that?”

“You will see eventually.”

“Oh boy, so glad you enlightened me.” you lay the sarcasm thick and it only makes him laugh more. Good, he finds you charming. You can work with this.

“I also want to warn you, we will be among rogue shinobi.”

“So your idea of keeping me safe is to have me live with the very people that I’ve been hunting. The very same people who want to kill me and my friends?”

“Yes, If you are among us, no one will bother you. If you remained in the village, you would be subject to their…missions.”

“Seems like stupid logic if you ask me.”

“Please trust me.”

“I don’t, but I don’t have a choice either.”

“At least you’re not dumb”

“Did you think I was?”

“Not even for a second.”

He grabbed your hand with his strong possessive one. Something about the way your palm fit in his felt right. You weren’t sure why but that was the signal your brain sent your hand when you gripped it tighter. A psychopath whose hand you were holding. Great, you’ve completely lost your marbles a mere three days into captivity.

Next thing you knew you could smell the air of the earth again, you could see the shadows left by the sun, happiness washed over you in a visible way and Tobi’s fingers slid between yours upon seeing your reaction. He pulled you into another hug, he seems to always be hugging you. It’s like he’s forcing you to get used to him. “I will be this person when we are alone. I will be another when the others are around. You understand?”

You nod your head worried about what he could possibly mean? What kind of a monster is he around this gang of thugs that he needs to warn you?

He removes his hand from yours and places it between your shoulder blades pushing you towards a cavern. A man with orange hair, purple eyes and many piercings looks you up and down as you enter. 

“Tobi, this is her?”

“Yes Pain! This is the hostage I spoke about!” His voice was comically high pitched and he sounded like a child. You tried your hardest not to react but it was just so different from what you were expecting. 

“Put her in the dungeon.”

“Well sir, remember I requested she stay in my room, sir?!”

“Yes but she’s a hostage, who will stop her from escaping?”

“Do you really think she’s dumb enough to try and leave the hideout of the Akatsuki?”

Your face went pale as you realized just who you had been dealing with this whole time. They were supposed to wear black cloaks with red clouds. You hadn’t seen Tobi wear his once! Always dressed in all black with sandles. But your reaction built a convincing case. The man named Pain accepted your fear as enough of a restraint. He didn’t question why it would be Tobi’s room but some blonde man eyed you hungirly and told Pain Tobi was probably keeping you in his room to finally lose his virginity. 

Once behind his door, he modulated his voice back to normal.

“What the hell was that?” you asked more honestly than you intended.

“What? You’ve never seen an act before?”

“Well of course. But why do you make yourself seem like a fool?”

“So no one will suspect.”

“Suspect what?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.” Tobi swirls you back into his void and he starts gathering your things. After a second you begin to copy him and he brings you both back to his room in the Akatsuki hideout. You start to find nooks and crannies to store your things leaving only one remaining item in your hands. He watches you as you look down on your photos of your friends. Eyes lingering over the one of you and Obito before you tuck them away with mist in your eyes. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, but…thank you…for bringing the photos. I don’t know how you knew but I appreciate it.”

Tobi pulled you into another hug. You were unsure why he cared so much and why you kept letting him hug you. Maybe it was cause compared to your new roommates he suddenly seems less scary. To his credit this hug felt nice. Plus, since it seems like he was going to be your only companion for a while, you decided to tolerate it. 

He unfurled the hug and began tugging at your shirt. Lifting the hem above your neck, exposing your bare breasts.

“Hey!”

He disregarded your complaint and touched where your stab wound had been. “How does it feel?”

“It’s fine.” You say blushing while you cover your bosom. “May you please let go of my shirt now?”

“Huh? Oh, of course. Sorry Peach.” He drops your shirt and backs away swiftly almost as if he was embarrassed. He seemed a little more humane today so you decided to press your luck and scout out your surroundings.

“Can we go outside? I’d appreciate some sun and maybe some real food”

He gives you a piercing stare out of the eye hole of his mask.  “Stay by my side. I know you are strong but however strong you think you are, I am stronger.”

You gulp remembering the massacre you witnessed three days ago.

“I will be your protector. No one will hurt you ever again.” he lifted your chin so you’d look up at his eye through the swirling mask. “I promise.”

“I believe you…”

You see his eye crease when you speak. He was happy. That’s good. Keep him happy and it will give you openings to escape…though you weren’t sure outrunning him would be possible given his tricky teleportation ability.

You spend the afternoon with him, gathering intel and acting flirty, playing along with his advances. When he grabbed your hand, you laced your fingers. When he reached for your hip, you reached for his. When he hugged you, you draped your arms around his neck. You play into his affection for you, keeping him happy, earning his trust and lowering his guard. If I keep this up, captivity will be bearable. But you also feared that if you acted a little too well, you may fall for your own lies. Holding him today felt too easy given your desperate situation. Was it a genjutsu perhaps?

Nighttime came and instead of parading you past the other members of the Akatsuki who were home between missions, he teleported you both straight to his chambers. You get ready for bed and realize you do not have a bed of your own. It was still in the void. Would he send you to spend the nights in the void? He cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I would feel safest if you shared the bed with me.” he said looking down. “You can sleep on the opposite side of the bed if you would like but I don’t want an enemy who finds the hideout to get to you before I wake.” 

You swallow nervously. You know he loves you. That much is obvious but you are searching for signs that he might try to take advantage of you while you’re unconscious. You think back to earlier when he was checking your wound. He didn’t seem to register that he had exposed your breasts for his pleasure. It was almost like your anatomy was irrelevant, only your well being consumed his thoughts. You chose to believe he will be respectful and so you agree.

“Pick whichever side you want. I’ll be back when I’m done.” He grabs a fresh pair of pants and heads to the bathroom. When the door is snapped shut you stand there looking at the bed. You’ve never chosen a side of the bed before. You’ve never been in a situation where you had to. You paced around the mattress like it was the most daunting choice you ever had to make. It’s not like this was a long term decision. You’d escape or convince him to let you go soon enough. So why were you weighing your options so carefully? 

Eventually you decide to choose the side closest to the window and give him the side closest to the door. You were much more afraid of his fellow gang members coming in with less than pure intentions than you were of outside shinobi coming for the blood of the Akatsuki. 

Just as you finally slip between the sheets, Tobi comes out of the bathroom with only a pair of black stretch sweatpants on. Your eyes drink up his figure. His body was half white as if made up of false materials but it moved like it was his real body. He was extremely toned, swollen pecs and chiseled abs cut across his upper body causing a little drool to pool in the corner of your mouth. Most surprisingly, he also took off his mask and below you saw battle torn skin that etched across the right side of a face that was intimidating, yet soft and familiar. His eyes catch you staring and he quickly looks down removing some of the intimidation you felt. 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I haven’t shown my face to anyone in years. I’m sorry if it scares you. I just can’t always sleep in the mask.”

“No, it’s fine” you say in a hoarse voice. Your throat had suddenly gone dry. “It’s not scary.” 

It wasn’t but what did scare you was the thoughts of what epic battle had mangled him to this degree only for him to survive and still be as strong as he is. You suddenly wondered if he was invincible and if escape would ever be possible. 

He took his position on the vacant side of the bed, smiling that you left him by the door. He knew exactly why you chose the side you did. He turned to face you from under the covers. 

“Goodnight Peach.”

“Goodnight Tobi.”

You see him wince as you say his name. You knew he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want you calling him by that name. He turns over and extinguishes the candle letting darkness blanket the room as you drift to sleep with surprising ease. Your body’s alarm, shockingly low given your current residence.

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

Sunlight seeps into the room as Obito wakes up. He suddenly realizes how warm he is and it only took a few more blinks of his groggy eyes to realize why. You had traveled over to his side of the bed last night and latched onto him. He smiled, feeling his chest fill with joy. He petted your hair. You were his. You didn’t know it yet, but you were. In a few short days not only were you almost completely healed from your recent battle but you were falling for him too. Hugging him, holding his hand, cuddling in bed, Obito had never experienced human touch like this before but he was sure it didn’t always feel this right. 

He tries waking you but is met with grumpy groans and you bury yourself deeper into his chest. He kisses the top of your head as your little fists cling to him tight. He gave up on trying to wake you and let you ride out your sleep, enjoying the cuddles that were sure to cease as soon as you came to. 

Sure enough, nearly an hour later he hears you sharply inhale as you withdraw from him. You quickly sit up and face the window as he casually stretches and gets up. 

“Good Morning” he yawns feeling smug and powerful

“Morning” you say as you adjust your messy bun, trying to seem casual as you hide your embarrassment that you were needily cuddling with your kidnapper. 

You both get ready for the day, you donning a set of tactical clothes for no reason other than it was what you were used to and him, his mask and Akatsuki gear, no longer hiding the cloak now that you knew his occupation. He grabs your hip and teleports you to a tea shop for breakfast. 

You live out a week in this manner. Spending all your free time together. Occasionally having run-ins with the other Akatsuki members. They eye you in a bone chilling way. You are certain they are calculating how to enter into your room without awakening Tobi. They are nothing but disrespectful towards him, but he gives as good as he gets. You especially have to hone your acting skills to not laugh when Tobi says something ignorant and rude in his comedic tone, earning the anger of who you now know is his partner Deidara. 

One thing that bothers you the most is the ever watchful eyes of the mass murderer Itachi Uchiha. He is always polite and quiet and would seemingly be the nicest of the members if not for his reputation for slaughtering his entire clan. It’s always the quiet ones. You didn’t like how he would stare at you. After your last run in with him and Kisame, you were sure they were looking for retribution. You decide to bring this up to Tobi as he gets in bed. 

“Tobi,” he winces “I know you said I’d be safe here among the other members but I recently fought against Itachi and Kisame. I don’t like how the Uchiha looks at me. I feel like he’s looking for payback.”

“He’s not.”

You were annoyed at how quickly his dismissed you. His concern for your safety was then entire reason for your current predicament.

“How do you know that?”

“Cause I know him.”

“So you should know what he did.”

“I do.”

“And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

“How can you say that? He doesn’t even know your true identity?” 

You are gobsmacked by the wild claim Tobi is making. He killed his entire bloodline and Tobi was okay with that. It was moments like this that reminded you that Tobi was a murderer, not the lovable goof that he had been masquerading around as. 

“Itachi is the only person walking this earth who knows my true identity.”

Your jaw drops open. 

“But you said that no one had seen your face…”

“It’s true, he does not know my face but he knows my identity.” You were at a loss. “One day I will enlighten you on the events of that night but know this, of every person here, Itachi is the one you can trust the most to keep you safe. If anything happens to me, he is entrusted with your safety.”

The thought terrified you. He was out of his mind. You saw what Itachi did to Kakashi first hand. You saw the morning after the Uchiha massacre. He was not to be trusted. “Tobi, no…”

His nose twitches and that was the last straw. “Well if you hate the name Tobi so much then why do you go by it!” your emotions had been high strung for over a week and you were snapping, boldly yelling at your captor.

“I don’t hate the name. I just hate when you say it.”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Cause it feels wrong to hear you call me by something other than my name.”

“There’s just no winning with you. I can’t call you by your real name cause it’s some big secret that only a serial killer knows and oh yeah, apparently that same psychopath inherits me if you die!”

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing in frustration. You weren’t even sure why it bothered you so much. This is a temporary situation. You were kidnapped. You were going to escape. If Tobi dies then it will mean you’re finally free. You just have to find a way to sneak out of this hideout and you could finally go home.

“He’s the only one I can trust to guard you with his life.”

You roll your eyes, huffing once more before pursing your lips. “Why? I need to know, Tobi. Why?”

He looks down and shrinks in your gaze. “Because only he knows what it’s like to love as an Uchiha.”

You felt the wind knocked out of you. Was he saying what you think he is?

“You’re a…?”

“Yes.”

“But Itachi…”

“...had help.”

Your hand flys to your mouth covering it in shock. 

He finally looks up at you. “Y/N, it’s not what you think it is. I can explain.”

You feel fear chill your entire body and you see on his face how upset he is that you are more afraid of him than ever. He rushes towards you and gets on his knees begging and pleading, “please allow me to explain.”

“Your clan…you helped him murder…all those people.” you said it robotically. You begin to disassociate from the conversation, lost in thought till you circled around to the realization that no one talked about a missing body among the corpses. The only survivor was Saskue. There was no one else left unaccounted for among the names of the fallen brethren. So who was Tobi?

“Tobi, if you’re an Uchiha, then who are you?”

His face flushed to a cherry red. Despite the horrifying details he just shared, for the first time you felt you had the upper hand in your captivity. Why was he so afraid to tell you? He grabbed both your hands, rubbing his thumbs along your knuckles. 

Your eyes bore into him anxiously waiting for an answer.

“It’s me.” 

You remained silent, your stern expression waiting for clarification.

“Obito”

Your hands went limp in his hold. Every tense muscle relaxed as your heart leapt to your throat getting your hopes up. Then after a moment you began shaking and crying with anger. 

“That’s not funny, Tobi.” You growled at him in quiet rage. “Obito died over a decade ago. Kakashi and Rin saw it happen. None of us were the same after. I visit his grave every day I’m in the village. But I’m sure you knew that already, didn't you?” You were seeing red. He had been stalking you. This was all a ruse to get you to fall for him. You didn’t care for your safety at this moment, even after discovering he was a part of one of the most heinous crimes in the history of the Leaf, you were going to knock sense into this liar if it was the last thing you ever did. 

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s really me.” He grabs your photo of him and holds it by his face. “See?” 

You can’t see the resemblance cause your eyes are too full of tears. 

“Take your hands off that photo! Don’t touch it!”

“Y/N, think about it.” He pleads with you, “Kakashi has a sharingan in his left eye. My left eye is missing. Obito was crushed under a boulder on his right side. Look at my right side! It looks like this.” he gestured to the Hashirama cells, “I was rescued, Y/N. Madara found me. I survived.”

You had to admit that it made sense except for the last part. 

“Madara is dead.”

“He is now, but he wasn’t at the time. He became my master after the accident, after I healed, after Rin…”

His voice cracked at the last word. It was a sobering sound causing your anger to break.

“...Obito?”

He swallowed heavily, “Yes”

You believed him….

The wave of emotion that crashed over you knocked you to your knees. You fell to the ground sobbing. The boy you had loved all your life was before you, taking care of you, alive and well. A monster who had done horrendous things but he was alive. The realization broke your mind. Obito joined you on the floor, holding you as you cried in his arms. 

“Why did you never come back? All of us, we needed you. I-I needed you.”

“I can’t tell you that Peach. But I’m here now. I won’t leave you.” 

Your hands grabbed at him like he would disappear at any given moment. One arm wrapping around his back, the other cradling his head as you hyperventilate in his arms. 

He nuzzles into the curve of your neck as he professes, “I love you Peach.” 

You wanted to say it back but talking wasn’t an option. You were too overcome with emotion. 

He helped you up to standing and laid you down on the bed. He got in next to you and held you in his arms till your cries quieted. His large palm stroking over your back, comforting you as your mind came to grips with the fact that he was very much alive and very much in love with you the way you were in love with him. 

Occasionally as you cried, he’d kiss your cheek or your temple. Suddenly all the terrifying things you’d witnessed over the past ten days were no longer so terrifying. He stalked you cause he loved you. He murdered all those shinobi to protect you. He kidnapped you cause he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The alarms that he been blaring in your head all turned quiet.

Your breathing began to return to normal and you pulled away to look at Obito squarely in the face, leaving no room for misinterpretation. You needed him to know your intentions. 

You grabbed both sides of his face and leaned in for a kiss. He quickly pulled you into his body as tightly as he could, squishing you into his chest, nearly breaking your ribs with want. You both inhaled deeply as your lips locked onto each other. You opened your mouth, seeking to deepen the kiss. It was your first one after all, you wanted to make it good. 

You toss your leg over his hip, grinding into him as one of his hands lowered to stroke your thigh and ass cheek. You moan into his mouth, him returning your sounds of affection into your own. The stroking of your leg became rough as his tough hands grip into the flesh of your behind. Your breathing heavy and ragged as your arousal increases. 

Eventually he falls to his back as you straddle him, hunching over to feast on his mouth while you continue to roll your hips against his pants. You were in the most heated and only kiss of your life and you were sure for Obito it was the same. His deep groans as you dry humped his boner concealed inside his sweatpants made your heart flutter with excitement. Everything that had been stolen from you as an adolescent was right beneath you, in your arms and between your legs. 

Obito released your lips to lean his head back with a particularly loud moan echoing out of him causing Deidera to pound against the wall. “Just cause I knew you were going to fuck her doesn’t mean I need to hear it you fucking virgins!”

You laugh centimeters from his face before he flips you onto the bed so he is hovering over your panting silhouette. Lashes fluttering as you salivate from the way his strong presence looms over you. 

“Obito, I…” He kisses you slow and deep, not letting you speak. You break the kiss to finish your sentence. “I love you.”

He latches onto your lips again before speaking into your mouth, “I love you too.”

You wrap both of your legs around him, lifting yourself up to rut into him when he finally leans back on his knees to rip down your pajama pants, letting your legs fall to each side, exposing your soft flesh, ready and waiting to be sullied with unholy deeds. He sinks down, positioning himself between your legs. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him with curious interest. 

He kisses and sucks on your inner thighs. He releases the pliable flesh with a pop and smiles at his artwork. Of course he’d leave a mark the first chance he got. You were his after all. 

He worked his way to your center, licking a stripe up your sex before latching over your little bundle of nerves. He began to suck on it as if hoping to separate it from your body. He licked the small nub gently between vicious suckling, driving you wild and causing you to squirm. Your hand shot down to rest in his hair as you furrowed your brows and tilted your hips up into his chin, soaking his face in your secretions. Desperate need consuming your body.

He came up for air and crawled back up over you to get another one of your sweet kisses, before sinking his fingers into your tight virgin cunt. You whimper into his lips. He drags his fingers in and out of you causing you to clench around them. You make small cries as you feel him attempting to stretch you, readying you for his intrusion. 

Your hand reached for him, looking to sink beneath his pants to stroke what you desired. He propped himself up on his elbow next to you while his hand reached between your legs. You slipped between his abdominals and his waistband, fingers gliding around his thick base before closing around it and stroking upwards. Obito shuddered at your touch, hips instinctively thrusting towards you. Your hand firmly set around him, stroking up and down, you twisted towards his face to continue kissing him. The sloppy exchange continuing while you worked between each other’s legs. The heat radiated off of your bodies as your lust filled every pore. You pull back, a trail of spit connecting your mouths as you speak.

“I’m ready.”

Obito withdrew his fingers as he leaned away. He sucked his fingers clean as he stood up next to the bed. He dropped his pants so that they pooled around his ankles. He stepped out of the fabric and crawled back on the bed over you. 

He gently glided his barren length over your folds, lubricating himself in your sopping wet juices. His tip lightly poked at your swollen bud causing your breath to hitch. He gives you a nod signaling he’s going in. He sinks just the tip in and your arms tighten around him in response.

“Are you okay?”

You look up into his eyes and nod. “Mhm”

He begins to push inwards. You gasp at the stretch. It was painful but soon it shifted into a pleasurable sensation.

“Are you still okay?”

You bit your lower lip as you nod in agreement. He reached down. He wanted to be the one biting your lip. Connecting his with yours once more, his tongue swirled with passion as he stroked in and out of you slowly, allowing you to turn into a puddle under him. You cry into his mouth as you feel your walls constrict around him. You had never felt anything quite like it. Every part of you was satisfied in this position. Legs wrapped around his waist, lips connected with his, sharing the air you breathed, and the feeling of him buried in you. It was love in its purest sense. 

His soft slow romantic strokes began to give way as he realized how good the friction felt. Your tight walls wrapped around him so well, squeezing him in a way he could have never even dreamt about. You were perfection itself and it was making him ravenous.

He rolled his hips into you till they slapped against your rear. You make little sounds in response to the connection. It encourages him so he continues to roll. You keep mewling with each stroke. It is an anthem to his heart and he wants to hear it played louder. He begins slamming into you. You want to take it and please him but it’s becoming too much. 

You see his eyes gloss over. He’s consumed with the unfamiliar sensation. He flips you onto your stomach. He straddles you with his knees on either side of your legs, pinning them together. He thrusts up and in as you lay down flat. He slams his palm down on your cheek and you make a small grunt upon impact. You hear him smirk.”tch” He wants to do that again. 

You grunt a second time. He sits back on his heels and pulls your perfect body up off the bed and sits you down on his erection. Back facing him, he snakes his hands around your front and under your shirt. His muscular arms lift you up and down on him as you sing out little sounds of pleasure. 

“That’s it baby. You’re doing such a good job.”

You completely exhale as he whispers praise into your ear. Your heart thundering at a wild pace as one hand grabs on top of his hand that has a bruising grip on your chest and the other reaches back to grab him behind his head. 

He bends forward to lay light kisses along your neck and into the curve of your shoulder. You were his every desire. All the dangerous things he was capable of were only out of love for you. He would murder hordes of shinobi, tame tailed beasts, and level entire cities in your honor. He would do anything to live this moment on repeat for the rest of his life. 

You twist in his arms, politely asking to look upon his face. He sits back as he lifts you off of him. You turn around on your knees and straddle his lap, facing him as he tugs at your hem, gently lifting the fabric over your head and tossing it to a dark corner of the room. 

He hunches down to taste your perky peaks. His tongue dragging along each nub before his lips close around it with a gentle suckle. Your head lulls backwards as you cry out blissfully, allowing the new sensations to overwhelm your mind. Obito rocks your body up and down along his shaft but he doesn’t think he will be able to hold out much longer. 

He gingerly lays you down on your back, propping your legs open with his arms as he leans down, pushing his chest into yours. You feel your flexibility being tested as he sinks into you and your eyes widen at how deep he went. He begins to stroke, craving the warmth of the fast friction generated by his thrusts. He allows his sack to sway into your rear, hitting it with a satisfying clap at each impact. Your face begins to twist with pleasure. Your rhythmic cries calling to him like a siren's song. 

He leans down and presses his lips into yours, allowing your moans to reverberate around the inside of his mouth. He nears his climax as you reach yours. Releasing together in loving harmony. He slowly pumps into you, draining the seed from his length into your loving walls that graciously drink it in. 

Your doting eyes never leave his face. You realize you are hopelessly bound to him. You would never escape your captivity, nor did you want to. Both of you have surrendered to the other. Your head collapses onto the pillow and he licks one last stripe up your neck before falling next to you and kissing your jaw. His strong finger tugs at your chin, turning you to him so he may continue to adorn your lips with kisses. 

Your faces would fold into each other's necks as your bodies tangled together under the covers. The man who kidnapped you, now your most valued treasure. He would possessively hold his delicate little peach every night from henceforth and you would never speak of going home ever again because now that Obito lay with you, you were home. You allow your eyes to close and your heart to go still as you fall into a deep slumber in his arms.

Home… 

Masterlist

[rhiaarrow]

My favorite headcanon about the eggs will always be that they took on the attributes of their parents

But thinking about what each egg took from each parent got me thinking, what did the eggs look like when they first arrived then?

Today's 7am ramble is about how I imagine the og 4 eggs (Chay, Dapper, Leo, Ramón) appearance changed over time and what attributes they took from their parents! :D

Were the first 8 practically identical at first?

In my opinion, yes!

The first few weeks of the egg event everyone kept mixing up the eggs names and forgetting which egg belonged to which parent which of course was just because they were new and no one had memorized it yet.

But why not add a canonical reason for people mix ups?

Everyone was just identifying them by their personal accessories because when the first 8 were delivered they were practically identical.

All small children with tan skin, similar face shapes and the same bright yellowish eyes. The only obvious appearance difference was their hair. All different lengths, styles and shades of brunette.

But they were ALL brunettes to begin with.

(all the dead eggs are commonly depicted as brunettes as well so this adds to it, they died before taking on a lot of their parents attributes)

Now, the first really obvious change that had the Islanders noticing the subtle changes in their own kids was when one day Dapper just suddenly no longer had iris's or pupils.

She just had white sclera blinking back at people and they were clearly his Dad's eyes. Then when they looked closed to see if anything else had changed they realized that both Dapper's skin and hair had darkened a fair few shades when put in comparison with his siblings obviously making to become pure black in both areas like Bad.

But hold on, now that they were comparing hair, they noticed that Chayanne's hair had lightened by quite a few shades. It was now a very light golden brunette, clearly turning blonde like his Dad, and under the skull mask you could no longer see yellow eyes looking back at you. So they removed the mask and sure enough his eyes were the exact opposite of Dapper, just pure Black sclera like his Papa Missa.

And wait, Leo's eyes were purple now! Unlike his siblings she still had her iris's and pupils but the iris's were now a rich purple like his Pa Vegettas and their hair had started to darken too. Closer in color to Dapper's hair, both of them clearly developing black hair like their Dads.

On first inspection Ramón didn't seem to have changed at all. His skin and hair were still the same shades as they had been when he arrived but later that day, when tucking Ramón in for the night, Fit realized that the sleepy eyes looking back at him were the exact same color as the ones he saw in the mirror. The same strange concoction of green and brown that he'd never bothered to find out the name for. And if Fit got choked up over that when he went to his own bedroom for the night, well no one needed to know.

Overtime there were far more obvious changes and also subtle changes that went completely unnoticed.

Chayanne's tail scales shed then instead of growing a new set he grew in a thick plumage, so rather than the lizard-like tail he used to have it he now had tail feathers that matched his father's hidden wings.

Dapper's tail shed the scales entirely until only the base remained, thinning into a long line as the end began to grow and change overtime until she had a forked tail just like her father.

Leo's tail did the opposite, growing in size and the scales became smoother as the end of it began to resemble that of a shark, clearly taking after her Pa Foolich.

Ramón's tail didn't change at all in style, he kept the lizard-like tail they'd all had to begin with, he just adapted to his needs. Fit knew better than anyone that in order to survive it's better to adapt to the hand (pun intended) you're dealt. So he helped Ramón strengthen his tail and work on his motor control until he could hold tools or weapons with the end of his tail, to use the tail as an extension of himself.

In stature, it was pretty obvious that Dapper was starting to take after her Dad when they had their first growth spurt. He shot up a head above his other siblings, still a small child but much taller than the rest. But less noticeably her limbs and body were a lot thinner than the rest, similar to the lean and lanky physique of their demon father.

With the fact that his skin was now pure void black it was easy to miss that her nails had changed into taloned claws and they no longer wore shoes since they'd developed hoof/paw things similar to Bads. Her horns grew to double the size they had been, they grew straight upwards and were sharp at the end just like his fathers.

Chayanne unfortunately did the opposite, having taken up his father's height he stayed practically the same height as his younger triplet siblings all hit their growth spurts. Much like his father, Chayanne was short and sturdy but with the way Dapper was gaining height it didn't matter. Chayanne's own horns stayed the same height they had been but over time they adapted to fit perfectly against the skull mask Chayanne wore.

Ramon and Leo stayed the same height for ages, when one grew so did the other. But then Leo discovered platformed sneakers and since Ramon lived exclusively in steel toed work boots it was easy for Leo to seem taller than her triplet brother, even though they were the exact same height.

In stature Leo stayed the same, no obvious changes at all to her physique but Leo's horns grew slightly and curled backwards over her cap. The most noticeable thing about them though was the fact that the tips of them grew in a vibrant purple, the same color as her eyes.

Ramón did quite obviously take after Fit in his physique but the only one who ever knew that was Fit himself. Ramon wore baggy comfortable clothes all day so no one else knew about the solid muscle mass Ramon had effortlessly gained from repeatedly working with heavy machinery and regularly going to the gym to work out with Fit.

Ramón's own horns however didn't grow at all, in fact they shrunk. With the fact that they were continuously pressed underneath his meathead and goggles they reduced themselves to slightly raised stumps that poked out from under his fringe whenever he took the meathead off. Although he only ever did that when going to sleep, only Fit knew how tiny his horns had become in contrast to how his triplets horns had grown.

I am totally drawing this when I wake up tomorrow, I have thought about this waaaaaaay too much not to at least try to put it on paper.

We will not mention the fact that it's already tomorrow, 8am is a respectable time to fall asleep...yep.

More Miscellaneous Stuff I think the OG eggs picked up;

Leo's skin took on a more golden hue but since she was already tan skinned it was barely noticeable unless she was standing directly in the sun.

Ramón picked up Fit's eyebrows. No particular reason why, he just did. I mean he already had a flawless moustache so why not flawless eyebrows to match?

Chayanne took on Missa's hair texture, making his hair much more volumous than if his hair had been fully taken from Phil.

When Pac officially called Ramón son he took on Pac's pure black pacman shaped eyes which gave Fit a hell of a shock.

Chayanne's ears bent down overtime, he didn't know that they now looked similar to how Piglin hybrid ears did, but Phil did.

Leo developed a strong jawline, not quite as chilzled as her father's but definitely more than her siblings.

[toptierteaser]

The Wishing Swell: Chapter 1

Synopsis: Joey Sanchez is shopping at the mall with his friend when an unwitting wish in the coin well has some unexpected and humiliating results...

Joey looked down at the water, which shimmered brilliantly, the wishes of a million mall-goers reflecting the light in nickel and copper. He glanced from the contents of the flickering, bubbling fountain to his own hand. It had been years since he did this; since he was a kid, believing in wishes, emptying his pockets in a desperate, faithful bid to bring them into reality. Of course, he knew how fantastical his thinking had been then, as it was now, but he was desperate. Having to crane his neck a bit to see over his stomach, he frowned at the penny resting atop his plump fist. Yes, he was desperate. Desperate to lose some of this weight, to be able to fit comfortably into his clothes again, to no longer need to crane his neck to be able to see past his big belly. The diets had failed. The personal trainer, the appetite suppressants, the workout routine…they had all failed. Maybe his thinking was fallible, fantastical, but he wasn't going to risk missing out on an opportunity to help shed at least some of his pudge.He closed his eyes, breathed deeply into his belly (causing the waistband of his stretch shorts to strain), and thought I wish I could lose this…

“Dang, Joey! You made your wish yet or what?” he opened his eyes as he felt the familiar clasp of his shoulder. He gasped, nearly losing his balance from Danny’s “friendly” shove. The extra hundred-and-twenty-four pounds Joey had accumulated onto his frame in the years since college always caught him off guard. Even the slightest attempt to reach down and tie his shoes could send him rolling over into a big, fat mess on the floor. He rubbed his shoulder, clamping the penny in his hand and turned to his friend.

“Jesus, Danny!” said an indigent Joey. “You almost made me fall into the water!”

“Eh!” Danny, ever the evader of interpersonal accountability, waved him off. He looked Joey up and down. “You’re buoyant, man! You can float!” Joey couldn't help but smile. Danny Ono, his friend since high school, never failed to cheer him up, which in part made up for the fact that he wasn’t remotely reliable and was about the least patient person Joey had ever known. “Anyway, go on. Make your wish! I want us to get some snacks and hit up a few stores before the movie!”

“Alright, alright!” said Joey, turning towards the fountain. “Just, let me do this in peace, and we’ll be out of here in a second.” He was about to close his eyes and return to his wishing when another sight caught his gazer. It was a man, about his age, in his mid-to-late twenties, sauntering by. A bit scruffy, tall, muscular, dressed casually but well, he brought up the rear of his friend group, but he didn't engage with the gaggle of men. His eyes were fixated on Joey, who instantly blushed. The man gave Joey a half-smile and the flickering raise of an eyebrow before he turned his attention back on his friends and walked off.

Damn, thought Joey. I wish I knew what he was thinking.

“Oh, come on, man!” Danny gave Joey a sharp elbow in the ribs–or rather in the pudgy rolls above his love handle. Joey gave a surprised whimper as he was broken of his trance and without thinking, dropped the penny.

“My lucky penny!” Joey gasped. He watched as the copper coin hit the water, flipped and shimmered before it landed deftly on the fountain’s floor.

“Well, it looks like you made your wish!” said Danny, oblivious. Joey looked at his friend, but already, the fit manchild was starting to walk away. “Come on!” he said, smiling. “Let’s go get a snack!”

…If the fat fuck can waddle for long enough. God, the only way for me to get him to do anything is to tempt him with food! Alright, let’s waddle a little faster, fat boy!

Joey blinked at his friend, freezing midstep. Though somehow, Danny’s lips were not moving, Joey could hear his voice, clear and plain as day. “What the fuck did you say to me, Ono?!”

Danny froze, turning towards his friend. “I…I said let’s go get a snack…the–the movie starts in an hour…” His friend looked perplexed.

So, suddenly, piggy boy’s hearing things?

No, Joey wasn’t mistaken. Danny’s mouth hadn’t moved, when he said the second thing. Still, that didn’t stop him from hearing the insults.

“What did you call me?!” Over the years, Danny had directed his fair share of teasing towards Joey, had fat shamed him, especially when they were kids, before Joey had gotten fit and staved off the extra chub for a few blissful years during college. But this was different!

“I-I didn’t call you anything, Sanchez!” Danny said, evidently confused. God, did I say that out loud? There’s no way!

“You called me, ‘piggy boy.’” said Joey. Danny’s light golden skin took on a sickly white coloring.

“Oh…oh man…man, I’m sorry. I guess it was the slip of a tongue. I didn’t even realize I was talking. Dude, I’m sorry.”

Joey looked back at him. This was weird. Really weird. Impossible even. And then he realized. My wish! He thought. My…my wish came…it came true!

Joey thought on his feet, shaking his head. He needed to act naturally. “You know what, don’t worry about it, Dan. Let’s just get to the movie…

Joey started walking past a dumbfounded Danny, in the direction of the food court.

God, that was weird. Like he could read my mind or something. Bizarre…hehe, wow, look at that fat fuck waddle! Haha, his ass has blubbed up like a juicy, round balloon! If I wasn’t straight…anyway, better get him to the food court. I have to keep him stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey, so he doesn’t look more handsome than me! Get all the girl’s attention like in college.

It had come true! Joey’s wish. He had wished that he could hear that guy’s thoughts…and here it had come true. Only instead of just that one man’s inner voices, he could hear Danny’s. He looked around the mall, where hundreds of people were busy, their noses buried in their phones or chatting with their friends. Could he read their thoughts too? He would have to test it out.

On the walk to the food court, the realization of his wish coming true was all-consuming. And it stressed him out. And true to form, that stress made Joey hungry. He needed a proper snack and the two twenty-seven-year-olds found themselves in the line to the soft-pretzel stand. It was a favorite of Joey’s, had always been, and he smiled as he stood in line, the tantalizing scent of butter and sugar washing over him along with Danny’s profuse apologies.

“Look, I’m really, really sorry, man! I didn’t mean what I said, honest!” Danny seemed incapable of even temporary silence. Perhaps he really was sorry. Or perhaps he, like Joey, was somehow putting two-and-two together, despite the impossibility of the scenario. And if that was the case, then his friend had no doubt concluded that the best way to keep Joey from reading his thoughts was to just keep blathering.

“Alright, dude,” said Joey, smiling. He placed a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “I get it. Really, it’s okay.”

“Okay, dude…I mean, here, I’ll buy you whatever you want!”

Joeys’ smile turned into a knowing smirk. “To keep me fat, right? So I don’t start looking more handsome than you?” The befuddled look on Danny’s face was priceless and Joey grinned as he turned to the worker. The employee was a young guy, maybe twenty, twenty-one, his mop of hair crammed beneath his folded paper hat.

“What can I get for you?” asked the young man in a bored voice. Honestly, this fatty just needs a good couple jogs around the mall. Seriously, I swear these porkers get tubbier every summer! It’s a shame too…he’s really handsome. Too bad fatboy couldn’t keep his hand out of the pretzel bag!

Despite knowing that the latter assessment of his physique was all in the employee’s mind, Joey couldn't stop himself from blushing, his jaw dropping agape, his plump body squirming in embarrassment as he resisted the urge to cover up his stomach.

“Is…there…anything…I…can…get…you?” said the employee more forcefully. Thicc-boy’s head is filled with so much sugar he doesn’t even understand what I’m saying!

Joey shook his head, but it was Danny who came to the rescue.

“We’ll take three large pretzel bites; one cinnamon-sugar, one salt, and one plain…a cream cheese dipping sauce and two jalapeno cheeses, and two extra-large lemonades!”

There, maybe he’ll forgive me, now! Thought Danny. God, unless he thinks I’m trying to fatten him up! I was only joking!

Oh Christ, I knew it! He’s one of those gainers! And the skinny guy’s gotta be a feeder! Haha, what a couple of weirdos! “That’ll be twenty-seven, seventy-four,” said the pretzel boy. As Danny forked over the money, Joey tried to calm his breathing. He looked around. The chatter of the mall was making it difficult to discern who was talking and who was thinking. He looked around. Yes, a few eyes flickered away from his extra-large ass and his chubby love handles, but he couldn’t really make out what they were all thinking.

“Come on, man!” said Danny, pulling him to the other side of the pretzel stand. Joey waddled along with his friend. He glanced at the little cluster of people waiting for their pretzels. All fitter than him. Now, he could hear their thoughts a little louder.

Aw, what a cute couple. I hope I can find someone who loves me that much…

Haha look at the way his stomach jiggles! Fatboy has got to get a better-fitting shirt! Looks like he ate himself right out of this one! You can see his gut and his tits through it!

Bwompa bwompa bwompa bwompa!

Wubba wubba wubba wubba!

Jiggle jiggle jiggle jiggle!

The last thoughts belonged to a trio of young men at the end of the cluster who watched Joey’s steps, timing their internal insults to each fall of his heaving legs, his thick rubbing thighs, his jiggling ass. It was not so much that they narrated the specificities of their fixations, but that he could feel them…

“Dude, what is going on?” asked Danny, as he grabbed Joey by the arm. God, I didn’t realize how thick his arms were getting! It’s probably mostly fat though!

Joey turned to his friend, looked him in the wide, frightened eye, and said in a distant, disbelieving voice,  “Danny, I think I can read minds.”

[ghulehcirice]

Papa Emeritus Headcanons

Primo

- I love the idea of Primo having had a secret prime mover whom he had a child with. Not wanting either of them to be used by the ministry like him and his own mother, he had to say goodbye to the love of his life. He wrote a song for her, he listens to it when he needs that comfort.

- No one really knows why this old man loves gardening so much. If you as him he’ll tell you it must have passed down to him from his mother. But that doesn’t explain the area of his garden that no one is allowed in..

- He doesn’t let many people help with the garden, just one or two ghouls to water the plants, and a few siblings of sun to help transporting the fresh herbs, fruits, and vegetables to the Ministries Kitchen.

- Primo is one of those stubborn old men, he likes having his freedom. Hardly uses the walker which Sister Imperator insists he uses.

- Primo has a bit of a soft spot for the children of the Ministry just like brothers, he designated a little spot in his garden for any children who may need some quiet time.

- Primo has been know to have another soft spot for some of the trans and non binary siblings of sin. He has a calming tea for dysphoria that he doesn’t distribute via the kitchen, rather he keeps in safe in the greenhouse stored in its walls. He only allows those who need it, the location.

Secondo

- No matter how scary this man looks, kids fucking love him. No one’s really sure why but if the Papas are attending an event where there are children, most of them will rush for Papa Emeritus II. Not that he seems to mind that much.

- Secondo has a poodle, fight me.

- I’m sorry but if no one else will say it, I will. This motherfucker drips in that “scary trans man” juice.

- He was the entire reason Primo began keeping the tea blend.

- Secondo has had to surgery but still wears his binder. If you don’t remind him to take it off, he will wear it until his nipples fall off.

- Despite all of that work Secondo has Moobs. The amount of times he has had people accidentally run into them is astounding.

- If you’re dating, He treats you like absolute ROYALTY. We all know what a party animal this guy is, but if you asked him to stop he would. This man is WHIPPED (honestly they all are)

Terzo

- Need I say this again? FRUITY.

- I don’t think anyone will fight me on this one, but there ain’t no way there wasn’t A FEW hookups between him and Omega. Maybe the others if he was feeling extra.

- Many people think Terzo was the first to actually treat the ghouls well but I don’t think that’s true. I like to think they’ve always been treated well but they weren’t really acknowledged by the public until Terzo.

- We all know Terzos rebellious but ive never heard anyone talk about this man probably got so many tattoos !! Secondo has some too, but he likes keeping them a surprise ;)

- Probably has a lot of stupid, small ones. Dates from his many nights drunk and playing truth or dare.

- Can’t tell me this man didn’t try and convince Copia into getting a tattoo when they were younger, eventually he relented and Copia picked. Terzo now has a little rat face on his rib cage.

- Despite how flirty Terzo shows himself to be, he can really be a good shoulder to cry on. Not to mention how good his hugs are.

Copia

- Oh rat man. When he first started being groomed for papacy, he was petrified. Sure he had been Employee of the Month many times, and Papa Nihils right hand many moons ago he was scared.

- He knew how beloved the papas before him were, and he couldn’t help but think little old Cardi C would never live up to them.

- No matter how much ~~His Mother~~ Sister Imperator said he deserved this just like they did.

- And thus Copia had to find his place in the ministry once again.

- It was almost refreshing for him at the same time, once he became papa he could shed from what everyone had known him as ever since he stopped wearing a sisters habit and begun wearing a Cardinals Cassock. He would be that shy little kid anymore. He was Papa Emeritus IV.

- The past papas took to him rather quickly, Terzo almost not recognizing Copia from their younger days.

- Primo gave him access to the tea hidden away in the green house, helping to make him a glass as the poor man scrambled to try and help the old man

- Secondo seemed as stoic as he was, but he seen himself in Copia. He gave him a few nudges and shoves without really letting anyone realize it.

[basu-shokikita]

Kloktober 2023 Day 15

Dethklok on Vacation

I wanted to write Dethklok chilling at the beach for this but I already wrote a Skwistok beach fic very recently for the Seasons Zine so I had to think harder for it.

And then, it came to me. The answer was so obvious...

Nathan looked at his surroundings. He had never been happier to see lines, crying babies, lovey-dovey couples or to have excited children bump into him, colored drinks in hand. 

It was their first vacation since the world almost ended, so Nathan was learning to appreciate all those little things he once took for granted.

Oh, and also, they were in Disneyland. Magic Kingdom, to be more specific. It was his favorite, he was a man of classic taste after all. Just the sight of the Cinderella Castle in the distance soothed his heart. Except this time, the crowds did too.

“Nethans, Nethans!” He heard Toki call him enthusiastically and he turned to him.

Toki was wearing Minnie Mouse ears, hand clasping Skwisgaar’s, who was wearing Mickey Mouse ears to match. Not that the latter had been keen to do it, simply given up against Toki’s relentless insistence. Even now, he looked less than excited to be there.

“Skwisgaar and me wants to goes to the Mad Tea Parties!” Toki said. “Cans we?”

Nathan exchanged glances with Pickles and they both shrugged. “Sure.” He said. They normally did everything together, the lines, the food, the attractions unless someone got lost. Things were different this time, though.

Beaming, Toki pulled Skwisgaar by the hand and they went in another direction and Nathan was left seeing their backs. Toki pointed at things, chatting happily while hugging Skwisgaar’s arm. While Skwisgaar didn’t return the affection, he didn’t reject it either and Toki seemed to read that as encouragement to kiss his cheek.

Toki and Skwisgaar had always been close, in their own particular way. Or rather, it was like they were two halves of the same thing. What thing was that? Nathan had no idea. But at some point after the defeated Salacia, that…wholeness seemed to turn into something else. While Nathan would’ve been shocked and even kind of thrown off before, he couldn’t find it in himself to care now. Lots of things lost their impact after surviving the end of the world. Walking into Toki and Skwisgaar kissing wasn’t impressive after witnessing thousands die and realizing your main connection on this Earth had been with the band all along. Hell, maybe they were all a little gay. Maybe he was kind of gay too.

Maybe?

“I’m going to Big Thunder Mountain.” Murderface announced and also left, like a child making use of his independence for the first time. 

Murderface has also changed lately, making less of a fuss about everything he did. It made Nathan wonder if all this time he had been simply seeking their attention and approval. And now that he knew he had it, he could act more naturally. 

Man, he was sure having big thoughts while in the line for “it’s a small world”. It was his ultimate favorite attraction, hands. down. Always made him shed brutal tears seeing those little dolls dressed as people from all over the world and dancing. And he had a feeling this time he would cry even harder over them.

“I fucking love Disneyland!” He said, to himself and anyone that could hear him, really.

Pickled snorted, shoving another handful of loaded fries into his mouth. He was wearing a Goofy Hat, complete with ears, and wayfarer sunglasses so the kids didn’t see how high he was. “I fucken’ missed it, dood.” He said.

“Me too!” Nathan agreed, raising his fists in the air with furor. “This is awesome!”

Pickles smiled. “Yea.”

As he let his arms fall, Nathan inhaled deeply and felt in the air. In the air, even. In everything around him right now. In the child that had dropped his ice cream just now and was about to start crying, in the trees waving with the afternoon breeze, in the sign that said they still had 40 minutes to go. In his friend standing next to him right now, waiting to get in this silly ride with him like there was nothing better he could do. 

“Hey, Pickles?”

“Yea?”

“I love you, man.”

Even with the sunglasses, Nathan could tell Pickles was staring at him with wide eyes.  “Huh?”

Usually, a reaction like that would discourage him from showing any more emotion. Not today, however. “I said I love you!” He repeated, pulling Pickles into a forceful hug and rubbing that dumb, balding head of his. “I do!”

As it happened, Pickles had a tendency to deflect compliments, though this time it was harder while being squeezed between Nathan’s arms. “Ow-What- Nethan did you take sumthin’?” He sputtered against Nathan’s chest.

“Uh, no?” Nathan tried to remember. It was stupid and definitely the kind of stuff he would’ve punched a regular jack-off for saying, but he felt high on life. Yeech, he shook his head, trying to shake off the cringe of even thinking that particular phrase.  “I’m just feeling it, man.”

“O-Okei!” Pickles finally managed to pull away from Nathan’s grasp, one hand holding the plate with the remains of the fries, the other holding his now smushed sunglasses. There was a mark on the bridge of his nose and his face was flushed so funny that it made him look like a fucked up strawberry. “I love ya too, dood.” He said, like he was trying to get it out of the way already.

“Cool.” Nathan smiled. “I already knew that.”

Pickles made an offended noise, though he still broke into a grin. “Now, aren’t ya fucken’ humble.” He shoved Nathan playfully.

“Whatever.” Nathan eyed the fries on Pickles’ hands. “Can I have some?”

“Oh, sure.” Pickles raised his hand, to bring the food closer to Nathan, but when Nathan leaned in, he smashed it against his face. While cold melted cheddar invaded his nostrils, Nathan heard him laugh. “Bet ya didn’t see th’t one comin’!” 

He wanted to get mad, yet he couldn’t. “You’re such an asshole, Pickles.” Nathan chuckled, wiping his face.

“Whatever.” Pickles shrugged, still laughing, which made Nathan burst into laughter in turn.

And so they remained, in hysterics over some dumb prank while the people in front of them threw them judgemental glare.

Happiness was really fucking brutal. 

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Broken Fan - Chapter 1

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: Growing up was never easy for me, but finally I may have found some light in my very dark world.

Warnings: Mentions of death, parents death, mentions of abuse, homelessness, anxiety, ect

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

Do you ever feel like if you disappeared today, nobody would notice? The world wouldn't stop, your disappearance wouldn't be plastered on milk cartons or across news channels, nobody would even know or care. That was my life. Nobody knew me, or cared for me. Nobody noticed me, not really. I was a ghost, an invisible presence left alone, all alone.

My parents died when I was a baby, I was too young to remember who they were or what happened really. I know what my Aunt told me, they wanted a night to themselves, so she babysat me. Around 4 in the morning she received a phone call saying that they passed away, asleep in their beds when the fire took their lives.

I don't even remember having parents, I have photographs of us together, but their faces are unknown to me. I didn't know them, I didn't get the chance.

After the fire, I stayed with my Aunt. Things were weird there. She'd look at me with such heartbreak and disgust and I had no idea why. I was just a kid, what did I do?

But I must have done something wrong, because when I turned 6 she told me she couldn't take care of me anymore, and the next morning two kind people packed me in their car and drove me away. I never saw my Aunt again.

My first foster home was alright, I was happy for a little bit. There were a lot of kids in the house, various ages, both sexes. I didn't like the kids too much. They were loud and annoying, and hyper. They always wanted to play stupid games like hide and seek, or tag. I didn't want to play dumb games, I wanted something real. I wanted to connect, to have somebody next to me.

And eventually, I did.

Henry, my foster dad, was always there for me. He actually cared about me, noticed me, heard me. He would spend hours at night reading me fairy tales until I fell asleep, and during the day he'd teach me things like how to ride a bike or read.

I had an actual connection with him, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I loved him more than anybody. I thought I finally had somebody permeant in my life, but I was wrong.

My foster mom Sandy didn't like me. She hated the fact that her husband had his attention on me, and she thought it was strange for a six year old to bond with an older man rather than the children all around me. She said it wasn't healthy.

So he was taken away from me. After many tears shed and heartbreaking hugs, I said goodbye to the only person who's ever seen me for me, and moved to a new foster home.

The new home was horrible. The parents weren't friendly, and I was the only child in their care. I was forced to follow their schedule which consisted of three boring things, every day.

Cleaning, school, homework, food, bed. No reading fairy tales, no riding my bike, no playing with toys.

I hated it there. I felt so alone, so invisible. So I left. I ran away thinking I'd be better off somewhere else. But as a 7 year old girl, I didn't get very far and as soon as I returned, things got bad.

At first, it was the belt. My foster dad would smack my arms hard, than my legs, sometimes my face if I was a bad enough kid. If I cried or continued to disobey, the belt was replaced with his palms. This happened for years, non stop torture.

I didn't stop trying to run away, every few months I'd take off, praying that nobody would find me, they'd leave me alone but everytime I was brought back and beaten worse.

Finally, the parent's gave up on me and I went to another home. But I was so angry, so filled with anxiety and rage that I drove away anybody who could possibly care for me.

By the time I was 18, I had been in 13 Foster homes. My last one wasn't too bad, but I didn't talk, I barely ate, I didn't connect. I didn't want another Henry situation. I didn't want to care about others because I knew they'd leave me.

And I was right.

On my 18th Birthday, my present was a knock at my door from my parents telling me I've aged out and I need to leave. I received a check to get me started, a bag of food, and a cell phone, than I was left alone.

The money wasn't much, definetly not enough to get an apartment so I decided to get a car instead. I ended up using all my money to buy a crappy little Honda Civic and I've called it my home ever since.

Sleeping in my car wasn't half bad, I had my own space, I didn't need to listen to anybody or share it with anybody, it was all mine.

One night I parked beside a motel that had free Wifi, and I was bored so I decided to find something to watch, I never really watched TV or movies, but tonight I wanted to.

The first show I found was something called Supernatural, and for some reason I felt a connection, like something was telling me to watch it.

God, am I happy that I did.

The show felt like home, it gave me something to look forward to, something to provide me comfort on the hardest of days. I felt connected, like I knew the characters and I was living their life.

And one of the characters, Dean.. He awoke something inside of me that I never knew was there. He made me feel like I wasn't crazy, that life was hard but I needed to keep going.

The more I watched, the more I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. The show pulled me out of the darkness slowly, convincing me that life was better if I was here to live it. It gave me hope. It allowed me to breathe again.

Today is my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating like I always did, drinking beer in my car and listening to music while mindlessly scrolling through a page for Supernatural fans.

I froze when I glanced about an article about Supernatural's newest convention, which happened to be a few hours from where I lived. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about going, people like me don't go to shows or events like this, but I needed this. I really needed it.

I checked my bank account and nearly leaped with joy when I realized I had enough for a ticket, living in my car finally payed off.

Without hesitation, I bought a ticket for the convention and for the first time, I felt excited. I felt hope beaming inside of me. I could finally be surrounded with people with similar interests, and feel normal for once. Hopefully.

The next morning, I walked into the office building I worked at, and made my boss Brad a coffee, like he always expected. Knocking on his door, I took a deep breath before entering, walking towards his marble desk and placing the coffee on the table.

He nodded before taking the cup in his hand and sipping it, like he always did. His eyes flickered up towards me when he noticed I haven't left yet.

"Do you need something?" He asked.

I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the desk, "I just wanted to ask you something if you had a moment."

He nodded for me to go on and I shook off the anxiety nearly suffocating me. Confidence, I need to have confidence.

"I was wondering if I could take a week off starting Friday evening, there's somewhere I need to go out of town."

He stared back at me, the silence was suffocating, the tension high. He shook his head and looked back down to the papers scattered across his desk.

"No, sorry that won't work."

It felt like a punch to my gut, I haven't taken one day off, I constantly worked overtime, I did everything and anything for this ass, and I can't take some time off?

I swallowed down the nerves and sat in the chair in front of his desk, noting the way he stared at me confused. "Sir, all due respect I have been working non stop for the past 7 months and I have never asked for a day off, I've never taken a sick day and I always have my work done, all I need is-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was raised, eyes locked on mine. "I said no Y/N, is that all?"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I stood from my spot, making my way towards the door. Anger was bubbling through my system and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I turned quickly and sighed, "Actually, there's one more thing."

He scoffed and looked up towards me, awaiting my response. I swallowed hard and frowned, "I am not going to be back tomorrow, I quit."

His mouth dropped open and he stared back in shock, but I didn't stay long to hear whatever response he was going to throw at me. I rushed as fast as I could out of the building back to my car. I slammed the door as the tears rushed down my face.

What did I do? Why did I quit my job for a convention? What the hell was so special about this damn show.

I finally let go of all the feelings I was holding onto, bursting into sobs of pain and frustration. Life was harsh and unforgiving, every moment of hope was washed away.

The only thing I had left was the convention, and even than I was clearly going to be the outcast, the weird girl who looks like she's never showered or slept a day in her life.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would be different here, the fans seem nice enough online, why wouldn't they be in person?

And if Dean Winchester was still inside Jensen, I knew he wouldn't look at me like I was garbage, if he ever even noticed me.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[tuliptired]

Good Trouble on The Lake

Pairing: kid!Ray Stantz/kid!Egon Spengler

Summary: Ray Stantz was always great at making friends! So great, he got Egon Spengler out of his shell. Enough to almost die in the woods, anyway.

Sorry this one is kinda long 😣

read it on Ao3!

It’s a fairly uneventful afternoon in the Ghostbusters’ headquarters. Winston and Peter volunteered a supermarket run (dish soap, paper towels, miscellaneous snacks) in order to escape how slow the morning was, and somehow, someway, Raymond Stantz didn’t have a thing to do.

Miraculously, Egon Spengler was also overtaken by the monotony of the day, and by the grace of some god, was actually taking a break. For the first time in Ray’s life, he sits along as his friend studies a newspaper, rather than a manual. Ray can’t blame him, as he attempts to read a classic paranormal novel, though he’s really just rereading the same sentence and thinking of nothing while laying on the couch. 

“Ray,” Egon breaks the silence, tone as interested as the scientist can express, “it says here that they’re looking to close Camp Little Tupper.” Ray’s brows shoot up. He could almost laugh at hearing the abysmal name again, if it wasn’t under such sad circumstances.

“No way!” He moves to sit up, this news now much more interesting than his book. “Gosh, I can remember that place like it was yesterday. Swimming, building robots…”

“Mosquito bites, swirlies…”

“Stargazing! Math-a-tho-”

“Food poisoning. You almost killing me.”

Ray scoffs. “Not true at all! Those were just inconveniences. You turned out great, Eges.” Egon was technically right. He definitely could’ve died that day, but the memory brings an even bigger smile to Ray’s face, and by the look of Egon’s slightly elevated eyebrows, he was equally as bemused. “It was fun, huh?”

“I must concede, had I never gone, we may have never developed such a long term partnership.” Gee, Egon really knew how to misconstrue the word “friendship”.

“You’re very welcome! We’ve gotta go back before they shut the doors- we never found the Tupper Banshee.” Ray’s eyes nearly sparkle as he thinks about all the possibilities; studying such a solid entity, upgrading their tech, and revisiting old memories with an even older friend. Nothing sounds better on such a dull day, really. “Why’re they closing, anyway?” He adds curiously.

Egon’s eyes scan multiple paragraphs, multiple pages, but he can’t find an answer. “Nothing so far, but if anything I’d bet it would be the terrible environmental impact.” Ray just snorts, thinking back to everything that happened to him the second, and final, summer he spent there. 

It was a warm summer sometime in the 60s, and Ray’s parents had just dropped him off out of the city and into the woods for his second year at Camp Little Tupper. Though it was a combined science and athletics camp (he found this out his first day his year prior), he always felt very excited to indulge in the hobby he was passionate about. He was a bit of a camping connoisseur, much to his Mid-Western parents’ delight, after many years of camping out with them in almost any suitable woodland area accessible by car. He fondly remembers going back to Camp Wacanda every summer, but that was with family, it was time for him to be a little independent and freely geeky. 

So, he pleaded and begged his parents to enroll him , “ They do experiments! I’ll never mix stuff in the shed ever again!” , until they finally gave in to his sad eyes and relentless reminders. He loved his first year so much, though he had to share the space with some less-than-academic-types, and his parents were willing to see him off again if it meant he’d smile that long again. 

As he carried all his belongings through the woods, in a group of other boys around 11 and 12 like he was at the time, he felt unbelievably giddy at the sight of the cabin he’d already spent time in. They were let in, but upon his entry he frowned to see that almost every bed was taken, top bunk as well as bottom. He suddenly felt smaller, anxiety betraying the months worth of anticipation as he carried his backpack close to his chest, looking around for a free spot.

On the top bunk of a bed in the very back, a small boy sat cross legged, unpacked and already reading to escape the loud noises of his roommates. Ray’s excitement returned, and he didn’t question it as he approached him eagerly. The unknown boy had dark, curly hair, cut only a little from falling below his large ears, and a pretty untamable fringe. His glasses were thick, and almost comically big for his face, almost like his clothes- a short sleeve button up (pocket protector included! And Ray thought he was nerdy) tucked into khaki shorts. His face was unamused, but Ray was not deterred as he looked up at the kid. 

“Hi! I’m Raymond. But call me Ray.” He beams. The kid just stares down at him, then suddenly speaks, as if he forgot that introductions typically elicit responses. 

“Egon Spengler.” 

Ray can only chuckle, hanging off the other boy’s bunk with his forearms while his feet graze the ground. Maybe he was invading his space, but excitement will do that to you.  “That’s a funny name. But it’s ok. My grandma says a unique name means a unique person.” The boy stares at him for a second more, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly if you looked impossibly close enough. “Sure,” is all he responds with. 

Ray sheds his heavy bags on the bunk below him. “Is this your first time here? What made you wanna come? Not that you’re not welcome,” he unconsciously rambles as he digs into his cargo shorts for something he can’t yet find. 

The other boy, Egon, seems to have eased into conversation slightly more. “My parents thought I needed more enrichment. The Royal Society doesn’t take summer students, so our Rabbi suggested,” he looks over his glasses, nose scrunching ever so slightly as he takes in the cabin around him. It was undeniably full of bodies, and boys (regardless of social standing, nerd or jock) will continue to be chimps, tossing things around and roughhousing. “This place.”

Ray laughs at that. Egon disregards his book, as he notices Ray has no intention of staying quiet for too long. He’s still digging in his shorts, though. “I bet your siblings are green knowing you get to spend the summer in such a cool place,” he laughs to himself.

Egon’s brow quirks once, quickly. “I only have a twin. He’s in Yosemite, studying ecology under a ranger.” 

“Man. Guess you’re happy to be away from him.”

“I am incredibly jealous and I’d give anything to trade places.”

Ah. “Well, the black bears at Yosemite can’t have smores.”

Egon’s legs are draped over the edge of the bunk now. “No bear can have a smore. They don’t have thumbs.”

Ray’s taken to scouring through his backpack instead. Where did that thing sneak off to? “I only have a sister. But we live in a big house with our cousins! Aunts and uncles and lots of babies and a bigggggg St. Bernard.” Ray can’t help but feel a little homesick, even if his sister was happy to see him go. It was a house full of people who all loved each other, at the end of the day. 

“That sounds abysmal,” was all Ray heard as he finally, finally found what he was looking for. He pulls out 2 Now and Laters like they’re the holy grail- which, to 2 11-year-olds, they are. To this day, he swears he can see a twinkle behind his new friend’s eyes. Egon slips down from the bunk, oddly industrial boots hitting the wooden floor.

The boys are called outside to start the festivities. “My dad told me to share with a new friend,” he smiles gently as Egon silently unwraps the candy. “And if we’re friends, you hafta help me take apart some smoke detectors.” Egon had no protests.

This was the start of their “partnership”. Life at camp was everything a nerdy kid could dream of, on a fairly low budget. Life and potential surrounded them, afterall. Of course, they were mandated at least one session of physical activity, much to Egon’s dismay. They were only excused when Egon threw up on the sidelines of a flag football game, and Ray joined him because “it gave them more time to finish Dune”. Though, he always snuck off to join baseball games, and Egon just filled him in on what Paul did before bed.

Once, at lunch, Ray couldn’t help but stare at his friend. In the past few weeks, it was like his hair grew this way overnight. Instead of being cut before it could touch his neck, it was round and untamable and long, his ears full on disappearing and his fringe touching his glasses. Of course, many boys grew their hair out while they were away-there was a barber readily available, but he cut way too close to the head so many just bore with the added weight. But a style of these proportions? Uncharacteristic and NOT Egon. But, to be scared of a haircut? Very Egon.

“Hey, Egon,” he starts. He picks off the lettuce and tomato from his sandwich, passing them to the boy on his side, whose nose is in a book as he adds the vegetables to his own and passes the meat and cheese to Ray in return. “Are you too scared to get your haircut?” He asks, in the middle of a bite.

Egon bookmarks the page. “Not necessarily. This is my own personal rebellion- my mother sent me away to a summer camp, I’m trying to test the extent of her anger if I come back-”

“Looking like curly Led Zeppelin?”

“...yes.”

“D’you think she’ll be mad? Like, spanking mad?”

Egon sighs slightly. “Enough to drive her to spit. I’m terrified.”

Ray touches his friend’s shoulder sympathetically. “Hey, it’s an experiment! She’ll get over it.”

Egon doesn’t say anything. He opens his book again, thinking over the new perspective.

Activities in camp were fun. But the two boys found themselves criminally bored. So they made a few adjustments to the experiments. It started small, no one knew it was them; a few cleaning products taken from the supply closets, of course they don’t know who’s baking soda volcano melted a hole into the metal table. The nails holding the swings together suddenly missing as the pair coincidentally had the material to make copper wiring.

But they got ambitious, and a little sloppy. It was dark out, while every other camper was by the lake, Egon and Ray opting to take care of the wild platypus they’d let into their living space. She resisted eating the leftover snacks and sleeping soundly in the crafty pile of blankets Ray left under his bed, him and Egon huddled in fear on Egon’s bed as their new pet ravaged the cabin. Just then, the door handle clicked open.

Ray grumbled as they were locked inside, forced to clean up the items desecrated by the animal he thought was his friend. Beside him, almost straining to hear, he heard a small sniffle.

Egon was facing away from him, fistfuls of pillow stuffing trembling ever so slightly. Ray frowned. Egon never cried, not even when their kayak drifted out from the other boys’, and they were floating away. With no food. As it rained. In mosquito breeding territory. While Egon was in day clothes because he was terrified of water and refused to swim. He made a resolve.

“Don’t cry, Eges! It’s like you’ve never been hollered at before,” he tried joking to alleviate the mood. Egon only turned to look over his shoulder, his face chagrin and his eyes just barely glossy, lips threatening to break out in sobs had he had a little less pride. 

“Hey.” Ray slid into a spot on the scratched up, dusty floor next to him. “You wanna know what the ladies in my family say?” He can remember his mother repeating these words when he would cry for minutes on end over small things, like when Bambi was all alone in the forest, or his sister was out on his bike without asking. Egon didn’t say anything, but kept on peering at Ray through the gap between his frames, a sign to keep talking.

“They all say: ‘Raymond, did anyone die? Is anyone hurt? Will the sun come up tomorrow?” Egon looks at him incredulously, unamused by the teachings of Heartland mothers. Ray keeps going.

“Egon, did anyone die?” 

“Egon, was anyone hurt?”

“The camp ranger when Maria Skłodowska-Curie scratched him.”

“Egon, will the sun come up tomorrow?” No tangible response.

Ray unconsciously moves a little closer, scraped and dirty knee brushing Egon’s slightly cleaner one. Egon would be damned if he didn’t notice, but what to make of it was hard. Ray was always moving, like a motor that never knew when it ran out of gas. It was different from other boys their age, he wasn’t ever trying to fulfill the societal pressure to be physical, or whatever the reason young boys felt the need to wrestle or hit or roughhouse. It was almost like he was…searching for stimuli. Egon actively avoided it, he knew what limited things he enjoyed and he stuck to those things. But being here, with Ray, challenged him. He was a constant, but a chaotic one. Egon was puzzled, and whether his face grew warm because of these discoveries, coming down from almost crying, or an unknown 3rd thing, he couldn’t deduce.

“My mom says there’s bad trouble. That’s stuff you can’t fix easy, like hurt feelings or broken windows.” Ray tries as hard to be as smart as his mom, as insightful. As open and caring. Egon sees it, and he’s never met the woman.

‘But there’s good trouble too,” Ray grins, sickening optimism breaking through again. “Scientists make good trouble. It’s stuff that works out. Like making a mess when you make the girl down the street cookies.” Egon lets out an amused puff of air through his nose.

“Or,” Ray interjects, scared of alienating his friend with the analogy for whatever reason, “growing your hair out despite your mom not wanting you to.” His smile was knowing as he dipped his head into Egon’s space. He quickly sat up a little straighter.  “Because- uh, it looks nice! I wish my hair was curly like that, my sister says I’ll be bald by 20. Not that bald isn't cool! Sigmund Freud was bald…A lot of…Jewish guys…are bald…” He almost whispered, his mouth snapping shut. Raymond Stantz never whispered, maybe a stage whisper if the situation was dire. He toyed with the sand in between floorboards, head down.

Egon could only breathe out a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he stuffed a ruined pillowcase into a trash bag. “Good trouble.”

He doesn’t feel 12 right now. And he’s sure Ray doesn’t either.

So days of good trouble followed them, and in turn they spent most of their time “grounded”, locked in their bunk for entire days while their cabin mates were free. The first day was a little rough, Ray watched on as his friends excavated fake Egyptian artifacts, hands on the glass almost comically as Egon sat, reading. They both agreed their jailing was uncalled for, and that some teenagers couldn’t really “ground them”, so with Egon sputtering under Ray’s 12 year old weight, they clammored out the bathroom window and into the woods. 

They were able to conduct their experiments, test any hypothesis that arises, away from everyone else. They searched for ancient ruins, tried carbon dating rocks (to no avail) and built god knows what out of any metal and scrap they could find. They were back every night, findings scrawled in a notebook and supplies haphazardly tucked under Ray’s bunk. 

This wasn’t a foolproof way of operating, and they would get caught with a soldering iron or thermos of motor oil every now and then, and then days stuck in the cabin became more and more common. For whatever reason, no counselor thought to lock the windows.

Miraculously, they had streaks of good behavior. And they were allowed to sit at campfires with the other boys, though they were stared like criminals until the stories at hand caught campwide attention.

A counselor leaned in close to the fire, fingers wiggling and voice dark as he recalled the stories of spirits trapped in bathrooms, eternally tethered to the lake. The other boys refused to believe him, partly because all the ghosts he spoke of were girls, partly because “ghosts weren’t science”. Both Ray and Egon went back to their cabin early, and silently, smores in hand.

Egon sat on his bed, as always, reading a book, but not the same, thick one with worn pages Ray had gotten used to seeing but never asking about. His head appears in the corner of Egon’s vision, climbing onto his bunk. He simply moves his legs to make room, finding himself not minding how his blanket will wrinkle and smell like Ray.

“I have to tell you something.”

Egon blinks once, eyes widening. He sighs, reaching behind his pillow for a pen and notepad. “This was bound to happen eventually. When did it start?”

“A few years ago, why?”

Egon blinked again, discarding the notes. “We’re thinking of different things.”

“I’m talking about…me believing in ghosts!” He lets it spill out like a rotten secret. He can tell that such a smart guy like Egon would just laugh in his face at the thought, but he can’t hold it in anymore. Ghosts were his thing! They’ve been his thing forever- supplied by an endless trove of paranormal books at his disposal at the bookstore his mother worked at, and summers spent in the deep history of the semi-rural United States. He was 100% a believer, from the dead opossum his neighbor is convinced haunts her basement to ancient demons to aliens watching over him every night. Ghosts, and how to see them, were always running through his mind. It was why he wanted to pursue science, not just because machines were his first love, but because with every discovery he poured over he was closer to making contact.

“Do you…think they’re real?” Ray’s heart beat in his ears, his friend’s expression unreadable.

“Duh.”

Ray could hit the ceiling then and there. His nervousness dissipated as he smiled, hard, probably the hardest he had smiled since June, not when he got an old microscope to work with Egon’s help or he found a way to get steady radio signals, but now. He lept of the bed with fervor, so much so that Egon scrambled after him for fear of his knees buckling. Unscathed, he ducked under his bunk and felt around for something. He emerged with a large, worn out pillow case.

Dumping its contents onto the ground, they tons of were old paranormal journals, ghost stories, photo albums. Egon wondered if this was what Christmas felt like. Breaking out of his stupor, he found his bag tucked neatly in a hidden corner, and took out 3 books. Each had a library sticker, a testament to how little freedom he had to indulge in his interests.

“Part of the reason I came here was to test its psychokinetic energy,” He explained, “my parents would eviscerate me if they found out.”

Ray could jump for joy right then and there. For seemed like hours, probably 30 minutes, they indulged themselves in stories, theories, methods. For once, despite his easily made friends and large family, Ray felt seen on a new (and intellectual) level. For once, in light of his quiet life and authoritative family, Egon felt like fate, and being destined to meet someone, was real.

They ended up sprawled out on the floor, books open around them, plans for this machine and that computer drawn out. “Have you read about the Banshee of Tupper Lake?” He offered suspensefully. Egon didn’t speak his answer, his eyes conveying his interest as he turned his head to his friend.

Ray lifted his hands in the air, almost painting the story he’d read in “Old Tales of Old Spooks in The NorthEast”. “In 1872, peak ghost season, there was a town out here, on the very soil we’re sleeping on! It was sizable, a few hundred, but they were all mormons. I know! Mormons, all the way in New York? Anyway, it’s said they’re only here because someone, or some thing chased them out of Pennsylvania. In the summer of 72, 1872 that is, women were going mad. Running into the lake, screaming mad. The town became mostly men, and they had no choice to marry what girls were left. One night, during the world’s awkwardest wedding, one of the mad women named Mary Crocket rose out the water, rotted body and all, proclaiming that the next man to marry off a little girl was gonna turn up drowned the next day.”

Egon stared at the ceiling, as if Ray’s words were projecting the very moment above the pair. He turned back. “Fascinating. And progressive for Victorian era Mormons.”

No words were passed between them for what felt like forever.

“We gotta see her”

“Absolutely.”

That was easier said than done, as they waited weeks for the right time. They conducted smaller experiments, like testing each other every day for psychic powers, though their results were never favorable. Ray noted that he would need to find…maybe a tarot reader or a really skilled psychologist to help with this part of their study. They tried communicating with the 50 year old statue that greeted campers on their way in, but they never got a response. Ray tinkered with Egon’s fairly primitive PKE meter fashioned out an old radio, and promised that if he ever wanted to visit his house when summer ended, he’d get him the proper electronic additions for a proper reading. In the process, they were “grounded” more days out of the week than otherwise.

One morning, the day Ray proposed would have the best conditions (humidity, camp taking a hike all the way down the opposite side of the lake, insect activity), the boys sat on, watching everyone else prepare for their trek. 

“You delinquents better enjoy yourselves here, and think long and hard about what you’ve done. Joey, grab your bug spray.” Ray didn’t think he was deserving of being talked down to by a 16 year old with red hair, tube socks, and braces, but there he was. 

The cabin cleared out, and as soon as they disappeared on the horizon, Ray jumped up, grabbing his emergency camera (which he borrowed without telling his mom) and his bag, full of everything they’d need. He offered Egon his rain boots and coat, but he was proud to turn around and see his friend was already well equipped. Crossing along the bank of the river, Ray proposes it would be easier to find her place of death if they went through a shortcut in the trees, and as he started to disappear in the flora, Egon didn’t have much of a chance to protest.

Not only was it humid, but it was hot. Peak heat in the last few weeks of August beat down onto Egon’s head, and he was reconsidering having grown his thick hair out this much as it felt like a weight rather than an act of autonomy. Mosquitos and sharp, untamed grass grazed his ankles like barbs, and he sweat profusely under his raincoat. This was the price of science, however, what if she wanted them to follow her into the lake? He wouldn’t do it, but he wasn’t messing up a good shirt. Ray, somehow, didn’t complain once, though sweat and condensation was visible on his skin as he panted, still smiling.

Ray stopped, and Egon followed suit as he looked around. Ray didn’t say anything as he pulled out his copy of “Old Tales” for cross referencing, and Egon took the opportunity to relax. He bent over a bit, catching his breath, until he felt something brush his cheek. Unmoving, he could hear the buzz of a bee, and suddenly, the pinch and surge of venom.

“Raymond”

“Huh?”

“Reach in my bag and grab my epipen.” Egon eased himself to the ground, staying calm.

Ray’s eyes widen as big as saucers. “You got stung?” He asks, a fairly dumb question, as he drops his book.

“Grab my epipen.”

“Oh, oh geez. You’re not gonna die , right Eges?” Ray stutters, wringing his hands. Oh god, his face was turning red.

“Not if you get my epipen.”

“You're…gonna die…” Ray teared up at the thought, before full on weeping. 

“RAY! Get my epipen.” Egon could feel his eyes swelling shut. It was a little harder to breathe as he panicked himself.

“And…you’ll never get to see my radium collection or my dog…” He blubbered into his hands.

“PUT THE NEEDLE IN MY LEG!” 

Ray shuffled over at the worst time to be shuffling, digging into his friend's bag and pulling out things that were clearly not an epipen. “Is this it?” He sniffled, words barely intelligible as he held up a regular, ballpoint pen.

‘It’s an orange box with the words ‘Epipen’.” Ray recovered it, hands shaking. 

“Take it out, pull the cap off..” Ray’s face was wet with tears and snot.

“Stab it into my leg. Fast.” Egon took in a hiss of air as he braced for a pain that would never come.

Ray’s pupils shrunk. He wailed, leaning against Egon’s slowly asphyxiating and swollen body, going on about having to hurt him and losing his best friend. It would’ve touched Egon, if he still had the ability to see and feel his tongue. He wouldn’t mind dying here, if it was next to Ray- at least there was a chance of haunting the boy until he went insane. He could visit Einstein, compare notes. Tea with Louis Pasteur ought to be interesting.

His thoughts of passing on, unlike Ray’s crying, ceased as he heard many different footsteps approaching, and commotion as his leg was punctured by the anti-venom.

Their time at camp was, to say the least, cut short. Egon spent 2 days in hospital to monitor his reaction. His parents were silent the entire visit, not commenting on his hair or the fact he was ghosthunting when he almost died. To make things worse, his father smiled when addressed by a nurse. He knew he was in for it when he was discharged. Maybe a year of cleaning the chimney? Swimming lessons? He shuddered at the thought.

All wasn’t lost, surprisingly. Ray’s parents apologized about 100 times to the Spenglers, promising that “Ray was a smart boy who makes dumb decisions” and “he gets it from his father’s side” . He felt oddly at ease at seeing Mrs. Stantz, a strong-looking, full figured woman with short blond hair, green eyes, and wrinkles around her red lipstick and warm eyes from smiling, grabbing his hand and doting on him more than his nurses. Mr. Stantz was tall, and had a short beard, hair slightly red, and looked just as strong as his wife, eyes equally as kind as voice as boisterous, as Egon always thought a dad should be. He felt safe when the man asked him “how ya holdin’ up, buddy?” Hm. Many developments to be taken away here.

To his displeasure, he got the least amount of time with Ray. He was hidden behind his mother’s back in guilt, until he worked up the courage to apologize, taking to crying again as he threw himself onto Egon in a tight hug. 

He blinks a few times as the boy tears stain the collar of his hospital gown. “Ray, did anyone die?” Ray weakly laughed against his friend.

They spent the rest of their time going over the piles of research they conducted, mishap not taking away their zeal to study their shared field of interest. Ray had even brought his own copy of “Tobin’s Spirit Guide”, gifting it to Egon because he knew his borrowed books would have to be relinquished soon. He even traded addresses, so they could continue to write. Soon enough, hospital staff were ushering them out, but not before the Stantz family left behind gifts of pie, bean chili, fried chicken, cinnamon rolls, and even more pie. Egon waited until his parents were gone before he ravished the containers.

Upon their return home, both boys were justly punished. Egon’s worst nightmares got even more hellish- he was put into dance classes. Ray was kicked out the camp for life as if he’d lose sleep over it past age 14 (he lost an hour or two every few months) and he took up doing every family member’s chores until his parents thought he’d learned a lesson. It got better though, especially when letters with Einstein stamps appeared in his mail. He tried to continue fulfilling his need to be outdoors by signing up for boy scouts, “there is absolutely no way anyone can get hurt here, mom” and wrote to Egon urging him to join as well, only getting a full sheet of paper with the word “No.” His loss, he lost 5 cents. Ray was kicked out in the winter for, again, stealing smoke alarms from his scout leader’s house and taking their Americium.

“I found it, Ray,” Egon tilts the paper in his friend’s direction. 

“Alleged ghost sightings along the lakeshore.” The alarm goes off just then, as Janine leans over the staircase to fill them in. 

“Some camp up North saw a lady crawling out the lake.”

[soft-persephone]

Scattered Promises 3

Din Djarin x Fem!OriginalCharacter

Rating: Mature // MDNI // WC: 1.2k // warnings: violence, fighting, sexual tension // masterlist // AN: I always write with black women in mind, but remember! Anyone can read it!! // Ch.2. // Ch.4. //

Amiyra hadn’t seen much of Din after her arrival. She stayed one night at the palace until Paz came and opened up his home to her. It had more to do with Penny asking if Amiyra knew any better, but she wasn’t going to bring it up because it would definitely cause another fight, so she only told them it was temporary until she was settled and found a place just for her and the kids. 

Sammy went to some sort of community child group. She called it a daycare, but that got her several hard stairs and a firm, ‘ it isn’t”. 

She made sure not to make that mistake again. 

Jasmine was much older, so she was doing so many things. . .violent things.

She tried no to think about it.

Different cultures have different customs, different rituals, different beliefs and religions, and violence was a part of theirs. Or is it rooted in a love for armor and weaponry? Perhaps an origin of a warrior people. 

All of the above most likely. She listened to the history, but she’d rather just read about it. She knows the people they have teaching her throughout the day get tired of her constant questioning and berating  context. It got so bad that they had Din sent somethign from inside the wall. 

She trekked to the clearing in the deep forest past the willow tree and up the hill. She did not expect a ring of dirt formed through years of use from the many fights held in this area by the Mandalorians in training. There were a few wooden sheds that were worn with age but sturdy to last all these years for equipment as well a small one that served as a med bay, but it did not seem to get much use if anyone asked her about it. 

Mandalorians wouldn’t admit it, but Amiyra found them to be a proud people. They did not ask for much help and tended to push or persevere their way through everything, or at least that was the impression she got from the ones that lived in the village. She hadn’t met many within the city walls, but it was clear that they were different. 

“Change of plans,’ The mandalorian she was being trained by said, “it's not like you’ve never fought before in your life. It is clear you are a survivor.”

She nodded respectfully at his comment. Jamor was not a man of many words.

“Today we have a special warrior who has taken a personal interest in your ability to fight like all Mandalorians. He is brutal, but he comes from a time where we were at our worst as a people. We did not have our home as freely as we do now, and that meant we were in a constant war wherever we were.” he paused. “Children were raised to join that war as soon as possible.”

“I understand.”

He nodded. 

She did not need him to say anymore, and she respected his usual silence to ask him to stop. 

The last children of the great war were to be respected. It was one of the first rules she had learned in her new life in the village. 

She took her position in the center.

More people were here than usual. Most likely to see the new guest Jamor spoke of. He had to be the one who stood closest to the ring. He had an armor that was worn with time but taken care of, it was brown and slightly rusted. In some places it might have been painted over to hide the rust spots that were too bad.

The rest of the warriors gave him a respectful distance, but they stayed as close as possible, looking at the clearing. Still and silent.

It was the most excitable crowd of Mandalorians she had ever seen. 

“READY!” Jamor called out, he paused for a moment before crying out, ‘HUH!” 

Amiyra went low as usual.

Most people who were taller than her always attacked from above, using their size and strength against her so she tends to opt for speed and agility. She dashed and dogged her opponent's advances, lunging to the side, and jumping back.

Sliding past them at a moment's notice, she got the other woman off guard, letting Amiyra strike her at the neck with all her might causing her to lose her balance and fall. She scrambled upon her back and held her down with a knee refusing to let her up. 

Victory.

Everyone looked at the Mandalorian of honor. 

He stared at her for a moment. His helmet did not reveal anything  nor did his body language change. 

“Again.” he called out. 

And Amiyra fought another warrior, and then another, and then another. 

She was about to face her final opponent, but he stopped them, pulling them back by their shoulder. 

“I’ll do it.” he said through his modulator, grating her ears.

Most of her opponents were tall and strong today, but he was not as tall as they were. However, he was  still very big.

She wouldn’t underestimate him. 

As soon as Jamor called out the beginning of the battle, he was immediately upon her. 

She had no time to dodge, and had to immediately attack back. She was not as intimidated by his size, so she opted for a more offensive approach. 

He hit her ribcage, her shoulder, and barely missed her head. His kicks wee just as swift if not faster. After kicking her in the leg it took all her energy to lunge away from a swipe that had enough force to knock her off her feet. Each blow left a throbbing ache in her body.  If he could get one hit in, there were two more that followed it. She could not follow them, so she started to leave herself open on one side to take advantage of small moments to hit him back. 

She knew how insane it looked. But if she had to take a beating just for a sliver chance to fight back in any capacity, she would take it.

She heard him scoff and before she could react she was on the ground. 

Apparently he was holding back. The last blow was stronger than the rest, knocking her into the ground

He pounced on top of her. Rolling his hips with enough force to bounce her head onto the ground. Her teeth clattering with the impact.

Wrapping his hand around her neck, he brought his face closer to hers, “You favor fighting defensively, and it leaves you at a disadvantage. Learn to attack more, be active. ”

She made a choking sound in response and he tightened his grip. 

After a heartbeat, he let her go and walked away.

The crowd parted and watched him go.

Jamor grasped her arm, helping her up. 

He nodded at her. 

Jamor was one of the few mandalorians that still wore the traditional armor, but what she could gather from his body language she could tell he was proud.

She bowed back and made her way to make the same exit. 

Everyone gave her the same nod or even bowed at her. 

What the actual fuck.

She got her ass handed to her, and they were praising her for it. 

What a world.

“And I thought you couldn't get any stupider.”

“Paz!” Penny warned. “He’s still your king.”

“And who gives a shit when he spends his time doing this dumbassery! He could be using it to better our people!” He banged his fist on the table and stood up.

“We have to gather resources to settle the brewing civil war between two tribes before it reeks irreparable damage on our society all in the midst of preparing for an even bigger attack on our entire planet, but our king,”  he mocks, “decides to spend that time pining over a girl he just met!”

Din’s eye twitched for the second time this month alone. 

And without a word, he swiftly stood and gave Paz the hardest punch to the face with every fiber of strength in his body.

It was a low fucking blow, but when is it not when Paz is the receiver of such a hit.

He was annoying. 

Hed be surprised to discover Paz had ever had the grace to receive a hit that wasn’t.

It caught him off guard and he ran right into the wall.

“Don’t you two start this osik in my house!” Penny hissed before continuing in her worst slew of curses in Mandoa.

Neither apologized, but reluctantly stopped for her benefit. 

Din wanted to pounce on him until he bled, but he’ll wait. There was always time to beat the shit out a Paz. 

“Now Din, there are better ways to get the attention of a girl you like.”

Penny softly switched their newest born into her other arm, gently lifting her breast to let her eat. As their baby daughter closed her little eyes before letting out a coo and sucking on her breast with tiny content noises, she continued.

“And usually has the decency to be honest.”

Din ignored her scolding.

Amiyra had no idea she was the king of their people. She simply thought he worked for him like Paz.

He did not have the heart to tell her. Especially after she told him in confidence that she was not ready to face any higher authority of this planet after her talk with the Armorer which raised another issue.

What had they talked about? Why did the conversation leave her in such a state of distress?

“Amiyra. . .doesn't want anyone like that in her life. Putting on my old armor means I can get to know her without adding unneeded pressure to her life.”

Penny’s shoulders fell, pushed back, and dropped just slightly. 

“I’m in no position to tell you what to do,” she said thinly, “but I don’t think this  is going to end as well as you hope it will.” She sighed. 

“Honesty is always the best option but you’re grown man and how you handle this is your business.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Din may be stubborn but he wasn’t foolish. However, no one was taking into consideration how this was the best option for his sake. 

He didn’t need the whole court coming down on her and wreaking havoc in his life because he’s taking interest in her. Knowing them, they’d tried to usher them into marriage before the next moon cycle.

Amiyra’s life was in a delicate state.

She and her family are transitioning into a new way of life, and he was going to make sure it happened as naturally and peacefully as possible, and he wouldn’t be so selfish to let the personal stressors of his life get in the way of that. 

Why did no one else see that? 

[kteezy997]

A Lil Nugget//S.H.

plot: after s4, y/n decides to tell her boyfriend Steve something she’s known about for awhile, but with everything going on, like the impending doom of Hawkins, for instance, she hadn’t had the time. But she has a baby Harrington in the oven(:

Warnings: Smut, established relationship, lil bit of a daddy kink, unprotected sex, preggo reader, fluffyyy Steve

Steve had mentioned to you that he longed to spend future summers driving a Winnebago across the country with you and your six kids, six little nuggets. You didn't know if it was because the fate of Hawkins was on the line, as well as the lives of everyone you loved, or if he was truly so in tuned with you and your life together, but he made the sweetest speech to you.

Well, you couldn’t tell him then, as it wasn’t the right time. Now, things in Hawkins had settled down some and you knew that it was as good a time as any to tell him that you were pregnant with his baby. You found out awhile ago, but almost immediately afterwards, Vecna started wrecking havoc in Hawkins.

You didn’t have a grand plan. You didn’t even know how Steve would react, you knew he wouldn’t be mad, not at all. You were worried though, about him freaking out about what his parents would think. But there was something else you wanted to bring up to him. You wanted him to move into your apartment with you.

Steve still lived with his parents, while you lived out in your own. He spent the majority of his off time at your place, so it made the most sense for you two to live together. Especially if you were about to start a family. Goodness, you were giddy just thinking about it: Steve and your baby.

Finally, you heard the door open. Steve said he was coming over after work. In walked your tired looking boyfriend. “Hey baby.” he said to you, smiling and joining you on the couch. He leaned in to you, nuzzling into your neck. “Aw, is my boy tired?” you cooed, putting your hand in his hair.

“Mm-hmm.” he mumbled, the sound muffled against your throat. He began to lazily kiss your neck. “But not too tired.” he said, sitting back slightly and showing you a smirk. Okay, so maybe the baby news can wait just a little bit longer.

Quickly, you helped each other shed all of your clothes. You hadn't made love in so long, you needed each other so badly. You got on top of Steve, balancing yourself with your hands on his hairy chest. He caressed your face, "I love you, baby. Missed this with you." He slowly ran his thumb over your mouth, tracing your bottom lip.

You lowered your self down onto his thick, hard cock. "Mmm." you moaned, getting adjusted to his size. "Feel so good inside me, lover." Steve put his hands on your hips and you started moving, bouncing on his length. With each movement, you bottomed out against him, and his happy trail ever so slightly tickled your clit. It was titillating and made you move faster.

"Yes, baby girl, yes!" Steve praised you, gripping your skin tight enough to leave marks. Your wetness slapped against him, filling your apartment with the sinful sounds that came along with it. He started to buck his hips upward into you, meeting your movements and creating a rhythm with you.

You saw his pretty, brown eyes focusing on your breasts as they sat and bounced prominently near his face. He leaned forward, kissing them tenderly and you moaned at his actions. Your eyes wandered his chest and his arms, and you marveled at his muscles as some light sweat glistened on his body. Your man was so achingly hot.

You started to squeezed your walls around his cock, just the way he always liked. "Yes, keep doing that. Gonna come, my love!" his voice was rather soft compared to the way his face was twisting up. He closed his eyes, his lower half fucking up into you with all the strength he could muster at this point.

"Come for me, Stevie. Fill me up, Daddy." He groaned, sounding almost feral. "Yes, y/n, I'm your daddy, baby." He clenched his eyes shut, and you new he was done. His cum shot into you, fast and warm. You moaned, feeling his every drop seeping into you.

A little while later, Steve was holding you close as you snuggled on the couch. He put a blanket around you both and he put his head on your chest. You loved this, holding your strong man so intimately. This is it. It was time to tell him. “Steve?” “Mm-hmm?” he replied lazily, he was enjoying you running your hands through this hair and gently scratching his back with your nails.

“I need to tell you something.” “Oh, god please don’t tell me you wanna break up!” He cried, snapping his head up to look at you. “Oh, no!” you said, touching his face affectionately, feeling the stubble he had after not shaving for a couple of days. “I would never, ever break up with you. You’re stuck with me.” You bopped him on the nose with your finger playfully.

He smiled with relief, “Good. I’m sorry, it’s just that things have been…crazy to say the least. I just can’t lose you.” You smoothed his wild hair back, “You’ll never lose me. But you are gaining someone.” you bit your lip, feeling nervous now that the news was finally out.

He frowned, “What? What are-" You raised your eyebrows at him. “Oh. You’re…you’re pregnant?” “Yes, Steve. We’re gonna have our little nugget.” you said, blushing as you said it aloud for the first time. “Are you serious? We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby!” he cheered.

You giggled. “So you’re happy then?” “Oh, y/n this is the best news!” He kissed you, giving a big emphasis on the ‘muah.’ “I can’t believe it. I mean…I can.” He smirked. “But this is crazy, I’m so excited, you have no idea.” He commenced to kissing your face all over, just smothering you with the greatest affection.

“Steve! Stop it!” you laughed, and he stopped, grinning at you. He then moved down to be eye level with your tummy. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you, baby Harrington. Mommy and I love you so much already.” he said, and planted a little kiss to your belly.

Steve got up off the couch, putting his boxers back on and headed for the kitchen. “What are you doing, babe?” you called after him. “Getting a pen and paper. We’ve got planning to do! Gotta start on baby names, gotta shop for a crib…oh! And start saving up to buy the Winnebago!”

[jeffersonhairpie]

Spoilers up to chap 336 of Jujutsu Kaisen

-

Sorry gotta get this out of my system

A slightly unhinged list of reasons that I'm Not A Fan of this Gojo death that I sincereley hope will make me look like an overreactive weirdo in a few weeks time:

He died offscreen. I know we see the body but we don't actually see the finishing blow. Bizzare for a character of his prowess and significance at this point in the story

Gojo in the 'afterlife' immediately talking about how much stronger Sukuna was than him hits really strange for a character defined by his casual arrogance. Gojo is fast as fuck so it's pretty clear that Sukuna could only get him with the Mahoraga-aided slashes if he caught Gojo off guard. Nothing we have seen in the Gojo vs Sukuna fight indicates that Sukuna is all that much stronger than Gojo and they're mostly pretty evenly matched. Nothing about this ending for Gojo looks to me like 'dying without regrets'.

Sticking Gojo in a box for 3 years real time (19 days in universe time) and freeing him just so the rest of the story can screech to a halt while all the other characters watch him die is fucking stupid. It's bad storytelling.

There are a few different things you could view as Gojo's character arc - whether it be the question he's asked of whether he's the strongest because he's himself or himself because he's the strongest, whether it's laying Geto to rest, whether it's learning that being the strongest is not all there is to being a complete person, whether its shedding his loneliness by learning that Geto is not the only person who he could be emotionally close to. Whatever you see it as, his arc has not reached its conclusion. Gojo is incomplete and him dying now makes his whole character feel like a waste. He didn't even really learn to value the people left alive bc how is he in the afterlife all smiling and happy knowing that Sukuna is about to rampage through the lot of them?

Gojo dying has always been so damn obvious. This is entirely personal preference, but I would have sooooo much rather seen him have his powers neutered so he was forced to understand tha value of an individual life than just wiped off the board. Also I think the universe could benefit from the notion that getting stronger and dying are not the only two things that can happen to a sorcerer.

I know they're not even on the same scale of plot significance, but I can't help comparing how Nanami's death was painful but felt well foreshadowed and entirely justified in the story to this death which very much doesn't (my thoughts on Nobara's death are more complicated). Nanami's death hurt because it felt true to the character, but Gojo's death has just annoyed me.

I never expected the final fight to be Gojo vs Kenjaku and I knew that something was going to have to happen to him in order to justify him not being part of the final showdown. Yuji as the MC and as Kenjaku's kid in this story about how the sins of the past shape the present is 100% the right choice for the story. Much as I thought it was taking the easy route, I hadn't discounted the possibility that Gojo would die, I had just expected him to, ya know, learn something and complete his character arc before he did.

This death just feels really cheap to me, in a way that I don't think even makes for a good fakeout. Maybe the fact that characters have already come back from the dead means that there was no way to have a fakeout feel entirely shocking, but I don't think I should be left thinking 'was that REALLY it?' after the fakout death.

BUT maybe hope doesn't have to be lost

Things I am holding on to hoping that this will be some kind of fakeout (copium is real and I am huffing it):

Gojo wasn't hit in the head, and in his fight with Toji he is able to come back from basically being dead because his head was undamaged

There is still one of the ten shadows that we haven't seen and given that it can't possibly be a stronger combatant than Mahoraga I'm betting on it having a healing ability, which would presumably be incredibly strong given that it's the last to be unveiled. The same healing could save Gojo and Nobara

When Yuji was presumed dead by his classmates and training with Gojo, Gojo comments that Yuji's body will eventually be scarred by Sukuna's cursed technique and he'll be able to use it as his own. Sukuna has the ability to bring people back from the dead so if Yuji can access those powers he can save Gojo (and probably Nobara).

Maki and Mai have something of an 'afterlife' conversation that is real but it doesn't stop Maki from returning to the land of the living.

Depending on exactly how you want to count 'coming back from the dead' several characters have done it at this point lol

In the afterlife Nanami has that random ass line about how curses and sorcerers can bring people back from the dead that doesn't seem to fit in with everything else being said. This could be foreshadowing.

Speaking of foreshadowing, maybe Gojo's line about not wanting to have two death anniversaries was an indication that he intended this to happen and has some sort of pre-established plan for how to win.

Shoko reveresed technique bass boosted by Utahime can heal anything #IBelieve

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Dad vores his three sons while on vacation cause the boys drank his good brandy or something like that. And what about disposal in his underwear (classic dad underwear whitie tighties)

Hm…yeah, I can do this one!

It was supposed to just be a nice week on the lake in their cabin. They'd do some fishing and swimming and hiking--all to celebrate the fact that all three of his sons had gotten into college. He'd just had one rule: don't touch the good brandy without permission. It was for special occasions, and he'd open it up when he thought it was time. So what does he see when he comes into the cabin after a trip into town? His three sons, passed out on the couch together, and his brandy sitting empty on the table.

That was the last straw for him.

The father is quiet as he moves around, setting down the food he'd gotten from the store in the kitchen. As he comes back to the living room, he slowly sheds his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his white briefs. He walks over to his boys, standing in front of them. Passed out drunk, all three. That'll make this easier. He'll start with the youngest--shouldn't have been drinking anyway.

The father lifts him up--always the smallest, even at eighteen, he was thin and a bit short. That'd make him an easy meal. The father opens wide and crams his head inside, slurping the boy down rather quickly. He'd had bigger and better but at least his own kids tasted good. It takes him no time to devour his youngest as he slurps him down with one big gulp. His hair beer belly bloats out a bit as his meal drops inside, not even stirring. Lightweight.

The father stifles a belch as he goes onto the middle child. He was a bit bulkier. Where one was underweight, this one was a bit overweight. The father drools a bit as he leans down to lick his son's face a few times. It makes him stir, and the son opens his eyes to see down his father's gullet before a tongue swipes over his face. "Gah--D-Dad? Wha's goin' on..?" he slurs.

The father pauses and looks at his kid. Eating them while asleep is one thing, but awake? He probably could stop but...dammit he raised some tasty kids. "Just putting you back where you came from." His maw opens wide and he engulfs the middle child's head. The dad starts to gulp and slurp, working him down steadily. He definitely got to enjoy tasting over that soft belly before he gulps it down, too. Now awake, though, the son squirms a bit, awkward and sluggish. It's enough to kick the oldest a few times and wake him up.

The oldest grumbles and rubs his face where he got kicked. He was going to complain but stopped when he saw his father gulping down a pair of familiar legs. The middle child drops into his stomach, making it sosh as it grows even larger. The two of them lock eyes and the dad licks his lips.

That large gut lands on the oldest's lap, keeping him in place as he starts getting licked, too. "Damn," the father huffs, "if I knew I raised such tasty kids...I woulda eaten you sooner." The oldest was just a year out from graduation and had a promising career ahead of himself. He's athletic and always knew how to make friends...none of that mattered now as the father's jaws slide over his screaming face.

After a few wet gulps, the father settles back on the couch, tipping his head back as his eldest's legs kick around in the air. He sinks straight down with a few more wet gulps and joins his brothers in the dad's hairy tank. The dad lets loose a deep, thick belch and smacks his gut a few times. It's massive now, resting in his lap as his sons bulge it out with their squirming. He's pretty sure the youngest is sleeping through it, though.

"I warned you all," the father says to his gut. "My good brandy was off-limits until I said so, and what did you go and do? Drink the whole damn thing! Well, I'm getting my brandy one way or another. So settle down! You're not going anywhere." He pushes down on some of the bulges, forcing his sons closer together as he belches again.

Was it a bit cruel to digest his sons over some expensive alcohol? Maybe. But with how good they tasted, they damn well deserved to be eaten, the father decides. He raised all of them and he has every right to devour them, too! So he settles back, putting on the television and relaxes while his tank works. His sons would settle eventually, exhaustion and drunkenness making it so they don't squirm for long. The father casually rubs and kneads over his gut, feeling the way it gurgles and groans as it works on his boys. He's pleased to find that, as they digest, his belches start to taste like his brandy as well as his boys.

After a couple of hours, all three of his sons are digested down. He's gotten much fatter, his beer gut especially hanging more heavily off his frame. It's made his briefs tighter, too. His breath reeks of meat and alcohol when he belches next and he's gotten drunk off of digesting his sons with so much brandy still in their systems. His stomach grumbles and he scoffs, pushing down on it. "I just fedja, didn' I? Damn boys..." With another gurgle, this time followed by a sharp cramp, the father understands what his gut is actually telling him. They need out.

Grumbling to himself, the father gets up and tries to walk. He teeters instead and doesn't make it out of the room before he crashes into something and falls over. "Bah...dammit...just..." With a grunt, he gets onto his hands and knees, sticks his ass up into the air, and pushes. There's a blast of gas that stinks up the room, but the smell only gets worse when he begins to force out the first thick log of crap.

In his drunken haze, the father didn't pull his underwear down, so the white fabric stretches around the thick log. The dad grunts as he finds himself going a bit slowly and pushes harder, forcing more of his sons out and into his underwear. It stretches around the mass, the white fabric slowly turning brown as he fills it with crap. Bones further stretch out the seat of his briefs, creating lumping bulges alongside the shit. One of the skulls ends up on the bottom, jaws wide in a final scream as it's pressed against the fabric.

It takes him a little while, but the father finally feels empty. He's also warm now thanks to the massive crap he packed into his underwear. He can't move now that he's so bottom-heavy and still drunk so he slumps down on the floor and passes out. His briefs won't be salvageable after this, shit and bones stretching the fabric out and staining it. It'll get thrown out with all the crap still in it, a final humiliating resting place for the father's three sons.

[bluestonebliss]

Australia intrigues me… are there really as many deadly things there as I’ve been told? and have you ever had an unpleasant encounter with one?

Hmm, that's surprisingly hard to answer because I wouldn't say it is super dangerous, but my cousins in England strongly disagree. You always ask the long ass questions Lost, and give me the opportunity to share fun facts! :D This may end up being an essay, because far out. I apologise in advance.

There are for sure a lot of potentially dangerous things around, but it depends on where you are. I'll only be including those around my area.

Well, the first that comes to mind are Dugites.

These bastards are highly venomous, and have the potential to give a lethal bite. They aren't notoriously aggressive, but if you fuck with one around november-ish you are gambling with a higher power. These snakes pop up in semi-urban areas a fair bit, and a sub-species is found on Rotto in rather high numbers. My dad found a juvenile in someone's swimming pool once, and as a kid I was told to never play in the pig-face around our house because that would be a preferred shelter for them. Basically, don't piss it off and keep your distance and you are fine.

In terms of other snakes I was warned heavily about as a kid, tiger snakes (highly venomous) are also pretty prominent. that is known to seek shelter, even if it means braving a human to get to shelter behind them. Some say they will actively attack. So, seeing a rather large snake coming right at you could be rather upsetting. They like wetlands and, such as the river a certain someone liked to go swimming in as a kid. Warning: Tiger snakes are amazing swimmers.

We get sea snakes and death adders, but other than that you are probably fine. Actually- funny story about someone who got drunk and put a dugite in an esky, but that's a post for another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ones I hate the most: Fucking spiders. I am not a fan. Redback spiders are evil and I wish they would all just spindle along back to hell. We get one per week in the peak of summer, including a rather large one hiding in my jacket on the coat rack last night. ALWAYS check spider-likely spots, because they will be there. They are venomous, and despite being rarely fatal, it hurts like an absolute bitch. I had a rather bad reaction to a bite once when I didn't check the shed once. I was throwing up for far longer than I would have liked. Never made that mistake again. These spiders do not deserve the mercy of a cup or paper to banish them outside, squish them on sight. Or better yet, poison them so they crawl around and suffer for a bit, but don't let it out of your sight when you spray them: they crawl shockingly far after being sprayed and have been known to give you a parting chomp if able.

My dad knew a guy who had a gear stick ball made of one of these trapped in resin. It fully deserved to be shoved in resin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of my favourites growing up was the Blue Ringed Octopus. It was always my favourite part of going to AQWA, and used to have a plushie one! These little guys even featured on my human biology ATAR exam. :D DO NOT TOUCH!! There is no antidote for their toxin, and the only thing that will keep you alive is being put on artificial breathing until it wears off. The trick to them, though? Sometimes, you don't even know you got bit because they are so small which is highly dangerous because if you decide to go for a swim when the toxin kicks in and then your lungs just go offline. Only the size of a coin or so.

Look at him! Glorious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stone fish aren't typically found near Perth, but cases do come up every now and then. You still get them in W.A., but its usually up north. These breathing warts of a thing have a wonderful hobby of pretending to be rocks, which means people don't see them. Upon standing on them, one of its many venom coated spines will stab you. Hot Tip! Should this ever happen to you, don't keep stepping or put pressure on it if the barb is in you. The more pressure, or the harder you step, the more venom gets pumped in. Tread carefully in the ocean, my friends. They are highly venomous, and will ruin the next 1-2 days of your life. Can you spot him? :)

To add to the stone fish, Cobblers are a type of venomous catfish that employ the same tactics found around the coast of Perth and Albany. Those barbs are very painful, but I don't believe lethal. Apparently, they are rather tasty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In general, wild pigs in the bush are common and will attack if provoked or if they have young. Once on a trip to Queensland on the opposite coast where feral pigs are a really big issue, there was just this dude in a ute with a couple of pig carcases hanging off the back on the highway. I've got a picture of it somewhere, if I find it I'll let you know.

Kangaroos have the potential to disembowel or severely maim a human if they piss one off. We kept about six of them as rescue pets, one of whom now lives with a kangaroo called Kapow. Kapow was named after his tendency to attack. Fully grown adults are a force to fear, roughly as big as a human when standing and very strong. Just don't piss them off and you will be fine. Most of the time, they are nice little friends! These are some pics of... Belle and Digby, I believe? These were before I was born lol.

Oh, and ofc the sharks. I went to Rotto about a year ago, and we got kicked out of the water because there were sharks in the water nearby. An attack is rare, so if you swim between the flags and keep an eye on the lifeguards you will be fine.

And in some areas, we get the colloquially dubbed "Drop Bears". It's pretty intuitive, they are like koalas but they drop out of trees on top of their prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, ofc because I must, the TLDR of other little nasties that aren't in W.A. but are worthy of an honourable mention:

Red-Bellied black snake- potentially lethal

Australian box jellyfish- arguably the most venomous marine animal

Irukandji jellyfish (although these occur in W.A., but nevermind)- potentially lethal if untreated

Cassowaries- human-sized birds that have claws capable of inflicting major damage, potentially lethal if provoked

Saltwater crocodiles- fun to watch, keep out of the water. My favourite is called Scar, he is good at jumping out of the water.

Sydney funnel web spider- Fatal in 15mins or so without antivenom. My grandad used to capture them and donate them to hospitals for milking to formulate the antivenom.

Inland taipan- yikes

Cone snails (found in W.A.)- "The venom from one cone snail has a hypothesized potential of killing up to 700 people"- (Kapil, Hendriksen, Cooper, 2023)

Bluebottles (found in W.A., but also everywhere here)

Tics- I know a guy who lost his leg from a tic bite, some cause paralysis

Blue-bellied black snake

Many many many more snakes. So many snakes.

Im not going to even go into the sharks

Even male platypuses have a spur capable of creating intense and pain lasting weeks that morphine doesn't treat.

[blackacre13]

Hiii, can you do one where Lou's overwhelmed with work and Deb tries to talk to her abt it but then she snapped, leaves her for several hours making the other one worried and kinda hurt. Then she comes back home with flowers and gifts feeling guilty with her attitude, soft smut afterwards(?) thankss

x.

There was a light tapping on the door and Lou looked up through messy fringe with an exasperated sigh. If April had the audacity to bring her the wrong numbers again she swore…

“Baby?” A soft voice murmured instead, an undeniable Debbie Ocean choice of heels making their way into the room, toe first after nudging the door open. The brunette’s head peeking around the door.

Lou’s sigh stilled in her throat. She would always rather see Debbie than anyone else. But at the same time, it only reminded her of her growing pile of responsibilities, a lack of follow through from everyone she had asked for assistance or delegated a task to, and if Debbie was showing up then that meant…

“You missed dinner,” Debbie smiled sadly, closing the door behind her.

A large takeout bag landed on top of the blonde’s current stack of paperwork with a thud. She couldn’t help the grimace that ghosted across her face. The last thing she needed was the grease from spicy egg rolls on tax forms and liquor licenses.

“I thought I’d bring dinner to you,” the brunette grinned, dragging a chair up to the other side of Lou’s desk before she moved to shimmy off her coat. Her hands were already on the paper bag, undoing the staples. “And pending how much work is left to be done, maybe a little bit of dessert. Here? Or at home?”

“Debs,” Lou sighed, frustrating dripping out of her mouth before she could stop it. It was sweet. Really. It was. Romantic, even. And she bet she could guess every last item in that bag down to the extra pair of chopsticks in there because she always managed to pick them apart into the world’s weakest kindle when she was stressed. And Debbie knew that.

She could have said thank you. Or said exactly what she was thinking. But her jaw was unhinging without her say and she was spitting venom at her partner, her own words unclear to herself. Just the occasional bites of “damnit” and “out of time” and “in the way”. And all she could see was the hurt in Debbie’s eyes and her clenched jaw to keep from letting her from lip quivering as she nodded, backing up slowly.

“Yeah..you’re right…I’ll just—“ but Debbie didn’t finish the sentence before she back treaded out of the office. And even though Lou didn’t actually catch it, she knew her fiancée was shedding a rare Debbie Ocean tear.

She had fucked up. Majorly.

She growled at the bag of Chinese food and cursed at herself. “This is your fault, Miller.”

The door burst open and April stumbled in, shoving several file folders at her, looking like she was about to vomit.

“I’m sorry. They all look the same and I didn’t want to bring you the wrong ones again and I—“

“Don’t.”

“Please don’t fire me,” April squeaked.

“Fire you?” Lou raise a brow, chuckling dryly. “You look how I feel, kid. Breathe. Help yourself to a drink. And then go the hell home. We’ve done enough tonight. It’s nothing that can’t be done tomorrow. There are more important things.”

“But I thought you said we had to—“

“April,” Lou smiled. “Go. It’s fine. Promise. Send everyone else too. I’m headed out in a bit.”

“You okay, boss?”

“I will be,” Lou sucked in a breath. “Just have some crow to eat.”

“Is that what’s in the bag?” The younger woman smirked.

“That’s your dinner,” Lou grinned, chucking it at her. “Go home. Eat. Go the fuck to sleep. Your boss is an asshole. Now that’s an order.”

“You got it,” April grinned with a laugh. “Make sure you actually get home tonight.”

“I will,” Lou promised. “I just have a list of I’m an asshole but I love you errands to run before I beg for the love of my life’s forgiveness for simply being an amazing woman.”

“Isn’t that usually more a Debbie task?”

“We alternate,” Lou winked.

[callmeblake]

Neil Sabatino (Pencey Prep) Interview

Feb 17, 2021

Neil Sabatino, former guitarist in Pencey Prep, lead singer of Fairmont, and founder of Mint400 Records, was gracious enough to listen to our Pencey Prep episode and answer any and all questions we had! He was able to tell us some incredible anecdotes from his time in the band, from the recording process to his thoughts on the record today.

My Chemical Fancast: Can you tell us your story of how you ended up in Pencey?  

Neil Sabatino: So I was in a punk band that played a lot with Frank's band Sector 12, he knew me for a couple years because I would book his band on shows and I always was the business person for my band band at the time. He heard I left that band and gave me a call to see if I wanted to join Pencey Prep like a month or two after he had started it. I was friends with Frank and his bandmate in Sector 12 Bruno so I was happy to join because at the time I was not in a band.

This episode (of podcast This Was The Scene) covers when I left the band in August 2001 to start the band Fairmont. It’s a little long but it’s basically the catalyst that lead to the band ending. I was in the band from summer 2000 through summer 2001. By that time we had written all of Heartbreak In Stereo, we had also started work on the second Pencey Prep album, which would have had the songs Home, Heroin Slow, Rebuilding Home, and Lock On The Second Floor Door. The second two I just ended up making different versions of and putting them on Fairmont’s first album. Once I left the band had been itching to be a little bit heavier so they wrote Attention Reader, Death of The Lionheart and a few others within the 9 months before they officially broke up. What led to the actual final shows was Tim was having knee problems and could not tour or play drums for extended periods of time. Frank had also been playing in My Chemical Romance for months by that point and Hambone was asked to join Sleep Station so it just made sense to call it quits then. Frank, Hambone and Shaun also did a short lived Pencey reunion as I Am A Graveyard with Ray Toro on guitar and Frank just sang. I believe that was only for a few shows or one show because MCR had started to take off and they were the opener for at least one MCR show in NJ at club Krome. Hambone and Shaun played together a little in a band that later formed called The Hostage a few years later. Then Hambone joined Fairmont for 2 albums (Hell Is Other People and Wait & Hope). After that Hambone joined Frank for some touring with Leathermouth. That’s been the extent of collaborations.

MCF: How did you decide on the cover art for the album?

NS: We actually had this really great painting of a robot that was supposed to be the cover, it was a piece I made that was hanging in my kitchen but the owner of Eyeball thought it looked too close to The Get Up Kids album that had come out a year earlier and told us to come up with something different. I think I brought like 4 or 5 drawings to Frank and he picked the one he liked best. I definitely did it rather quickly and didn’t give much thought to it. We basically only had a few days to figure the situation out.

MCF: There's some confusion among fans regarding who wrote which lyrics. Would you be able to shed light on who crafted the lyrics and/or what that writing process was like?

NS: The very first songs that were Pencey Prep songs were 8th Grade and The Secret Goldfish. Those were kind of stripped down and really raw on the original demo which was called “Trying To Escape The Inevitable” (We liked that name, hence using it later on as a song title). The original demo has no lead guitar parts and the whole ending of Secret Goldfish didn’t come about until later when I joined. Those two were written by Frank as Sector 12 was ending. That first version of Secret Goldfish had Bruno Rocha from Sector 12 singing on it because originally Frank didn’t really want to sing.

Next we did 2 songs in the studio after we had been together for about 4 months, which were Yesterday and Lloyd Dobbler. Yesterday was just a 2 chord punk song before we started working on it as a band but that also was all Frank. Lloyd Dobbler was written by Hambone but he couldn’t really play it well so on the album I played all the guitars on it and Shaun just added some piano. I would say all the piano was written 50% by me and 50% by Frank which is why occasionally it overlaps and plays the same things as the guitar does on the album.

The first tracks I brought to the band were Ten Rings and 19, which I co-wrote the lyrics with Frank. Usually I would come up with the chorus or pre-chorus and he would flesh out the verses. Early versions of Ten Rings were weird. 19 spawned from the piano part which I wrote at a practice and it’s mostly lyrics about a break up I was going through at the time. Ten Rings was more about Frank’s situation with an ex that cheated on him but was still keeping tabs on him. I think we both fictionalized parts of each song to make them better.

Don Quixote, PS Don’t Write and Florida Plates were three of the Hambone songs that he wrote when he was younger but they were completely restructured music wise as he wrote them originally just on an acoustic guitar and we now had a five piece band playing them. I know Frank and I consciously wanted to have that At The Drive In playing back forth lead type thing going on with the guitars.

The last songs we finished were all musically written by me: Trying To Escape The Inevitable, Home, Heroin Slow, but Trying to Escape was Hambones lyrics about a situation a friend of his was in and yes that’s Hambone doing the talking part. Heroin Slow was all Frank’s lyrics, we used to jokingly tell him it sounded like he was saying Carl Winslow (From the show Family Matters)  in the chorus. Then Home was again Frank’s verses and my chorus lyrics. But let me tell you, I believe that is the most personal song he has ever written, if you knew his whole situation that song was his story at 19. We had two other very complete songs that never got recorded. One had no title but was heavy like Trying To Escape The Inevitable and the other was called Lock On The Second Floor Door and was the 3rd song I was singing with Pencey in addition to Fat & Alone and Rebuilding Home. We had 2 other songs that got thrown away much earlier that didn’t fit with the rest of the set but that was about all we wrote in that first year.

MCF: Who recorded the spoken part in "Trying to Escape the Inevitable?”

NS: That was Hambone. John Naclerio who owned the recording studio did the backing on Secret Goldfish. Bruno Rocha from Sector 12 who was in Pencey for a few months is the backing on Yesterday.

I am the backing vocal on the chorus of 19 and I sing Fat & Alone, Frank is the backing vocal on Fat & Alone, yes the high parts too. The Cartman impression at the end is Tim the drummer. At the top of the song the “Fat & Alone” that you guys say sounds Canadian or something is me - my wife is from Minnesota so I kind of have that Norweigan twang sometimes. The guy talking that says 5/29/01 take 1 is Antonio Valenti who owned the studio where we did Fat & Alone, Heroin Slow, Home, Rebuilding Home and Secret Goldfish Acoustic.

MCF: Were there any bands or albums that served as a main source of inspiration for Heartbreak?

NS: We seriously had like 10 records on repeat for every single drive and they were:

The Get Up Kids – Something To Write Home About At The Drive In – Relationship Of Command

Saves The Day – Stay What You Are

System Of A Down – Toxicity

Dashboard Confessional – Swiss Army Romance

Hot Rod Circuit- If I Knew What I knew Then

The Anniversary – Designing A Nervous Breakdown

Jimmy Eat World – Bleed American

Weezer – Pinkerton

The Get Up Kids – Seven Minute Mile

We listened to other stuff but these discs were constantly played for every drive to anywhere and on like 10 mixtapes that made the circles around the band. I was into slightly more indie and older stuff like The Pixies. Hambone loved The Replacements, Husker Du and The Misfits but Frank usually vetoed that stuff and I think even threw Hambone’s Misfits CD out of the van on the one tour. Tim loved metal so we would put in the System of A Down CD to appease him and Shaun always liked the more obscure emo stuff like Knapsack, Mineral and Jimmy Eat World (who were obscure then).  That list above though was what we all agreed on and that was mostly what Frank was listening to aside from punk stuff like Bouncing Souls, Screeching Weasel, etc.

MCF: Can you tell us about your songwriting process/thoughts behind the masterpiece, “Fat and Alone?” How did this gem come to be?

NS: I think Shaun and Frank were chanting Fat & Alone and it was a directed insult at someone and I just thought the phrase was funny and I was dabbling in singing my first couple of songs at the time and it just kind of happened. We definitely thought it was funny and pretty catchy. We also loved the idea of a hidden track. However fast forward 20 years and it’s kind of insensitive and immature and the guys wanted to leave it off of the album going forward. Which, if it was perceived as an insult towards anyone, I am on board with it not being out there. You can find it if you really want to on Youtube. When I personally sat down to write it, it was actually more me thinking of how I was a fat little teenager and was more self-deprecating, but I was pretty thin when I was in Pencey so who was going to believe me? For any big boned people who take it on as an anthem, I’m right there with you, it was written by a fat kid for fat kids. I have been on a diet since 1997 so that I can stay an average weight.

MCF: Can you talk about your experience recording this album, from the basement to the studio?

NS: Well, we did it in pieces basically. When we first started we knew we were working towards creating this album “Heartbreak In Stereo”. I don’t even know how we came up with that name, it’s like it just appeared to us and we were looking to make 10 songs that reflected North NJ teenage heartbreak in the year 2000.  We were all miserable single dudes who played music non-stop. We had like 7 hour practice sessions and really got so much better in a short period of time. By December 2000 we had played about 5 shows and thought Yesterday was the most ready to record and that Lloyd Dobbler would be an easy just throw it in there if we have time type track.

That initial 2 song demo was what we pitched to get signed but we basically told them, with or without you we are making this 10 song record. Originally we were supposed to be on Frank’s dad’s label Black Ball Music (He worked there, didn’t own it), which was in California, but we were too impatient to wait to see if they were going to fund it and we moved on. This is why a lot of the early promo stuff says Black Ball Music on it. In May we went to a local studio to do the demos of the stuff we knew would not be part of the album but we wanted to get them on tape, that was Heroin Slow, Home, Rebuilding Home, Fat & Alone, and Secret Goldfish Acoustic. By June we decided we were finishing the album no matter what at the same studio we did the 2 song demo at (Nada Recording). We finished the other 8 songs rather quickly and thanks to Alan Douches at West West Side Mastering everything we had recorded, 15 songs all sound cohesive because of the job he did.

I have been in many bands over the years and I can tell you the work ethic and how we constructed that one record was very intricate and more well thought out than something usually associated with teenagers and some early 20 somethings. We really cared about every detail of the recording and the story and vibe and what the listener is going to take away from it.

MCF: Since we are an MCR podcast, what was your impression of My Chemical Romance in their early days?

NS: When I first heard “Vampires Will Never Hurt You” I was so damn mad that it wasn’t something I had come up with. At the time when those guys had first started I had been kicked out of Pencey Prep and hated the owner of Eyeball Records with every fiber of my being. But I think by 2003 Hambone called me to wish me happy birthday and I had also run into Frank at a show soon after that and we all put any hate behind us (not for Eyeball though, I still hate that fucking creep). I was really happy for Frank, I had known him since he was 17. I knew Mikey because he hung around with Pencey when I was in the band and the other guys were super nice.

I met everyone at Hambone’s house at a Thanksgiving thing early on right as they were about to get signed or were signed. I got to open up for them at the Loop Lounge, they played acoustic at like 2am. They also had let my band hang out back stage at a show in like 2005. Every time I ever ran into any of those guys they were always so nice and whenever I read something like how the band did something pro-LGBQT, pro-feminist, anti-racist it made me proud of the fact there is some small connection from my band to their band through Pencey Prep.

When they first started I remember hearing Headfirst For Halos on the college radio station and I really understood what kids saw in them. They had this really raw hyperactivity about them and in their music that was quite viral. The thing was at that time most of Jersey was just punk and power pop, they were different because they were taking like the cool goth elements of The Cure, Joy Division, Bauhaus, and punk-ifying it.

MCF: What's one (or two) of your favorite memories from your time in the band?

NS: When I first joined the band all of us were single. We would play in Frank’s basement until his Mom made us leave, like it got past the 9pm curfew and we’d head over to this basketball court that the band referred to as Boystown and we’d play a game or two and then head to the North Arlington diner. The end of summer 2000 and that same routine for a few weeks is what Heartbreak In Stereo is all about. The core essence of the album was formulated all in that few weeks.

MCF: You’ve continued to play in bands and work in the industry. With that experience under your belt, how do you feel about the record now so many years later?

NS: I still think it’s a fun record. I couldn’t write that record without having been in that place and time with those guys. When you are in a band it’s total compromise of visions that everyone else has for what it should be. At the time I was dying to move on and do my own thing and I think the other guys too wanted to eventually branch out and do their own things without compromise. But looking back that experience and hearing it now, I get why people have latched onto it as kind of a cult record.

I think we weren’t idiots or anything, we said some things and had some ideas that were very poetically stated. I think that is why the whole Catcher In The Rye thing works so well for this release, it’s connection to a book about lost innocence and it’s a record about exactly that from three perspectives. From Frank the teenager who just had his heart ripped out by his first big love. Hambone’s quiet reflection on his younger years in songs like Florida Plates (which by the way is supposed to be about two kids with their parents on vacation who meet on the Jersey Shore) or Lloyd Dobbler which is specifically about getting friend zoned by that love that you are willing to stick around for even if it’s unrequited. And me, I was just dumped by my 2nd girlfriend, a love of my life and wrote from that perspective of nothing is ever going to work out whether you are a young or old. That record was one giant therapy session and seriously it’s so honest, genuine and heartfelt and that’s why people still listen to it. At least that’s what I hope.

MCF: How did you guys make the decision to re-release the record?

NS: If you listen to Casual Interactions I think Hambone made it clear he really wanted to have it out there again as it was one of the major things he contributed to in his music career. I think we just had this unwritten rule that we all had to agree if we were going to do anything with it for the future. Well it just kind of all finally worked out and we all agreed on how and when to get it all back out there.

MCF: Are you surprised at the response Pencey Prep still gets 20 years later?

NS: I do feel like the album does feel like that era, so I am surprised that people are still listening this much to it. But to me it also feels classic and it’s like opening up a photo album to summer of 2000. It’s nostalgia and with things like Spotify I’m glad a whole new generation gets to hear it and hop in that time machine with us.

MCF: What are you up to currently?

NS: Fairmont is the band I have been doing since the day I left Pencey Prep, 20 years this August. We have 11 albums, a bunch of EP’s and a bunch of compilation tracks. Pretty much the acoustic demos on the first Fairmont album were all in the running to be Pencey Prep songs, except the songs that are about Pencey Prep. We’re working on a Retrospective of the last 10 years for release later this year.

In 2007 I started Mint 400 Records to release Fairmont’s albums and it’s grown from there to over 370 releases and over 100 bands on our roster. That’s mostly what I focus on currently. I produce a bunch of the bands on the label, do album art and edit and direct videos, so the label keeps me busy.

My art is available on instagram @nsabatinoart and I’m available for hire for illustration and graphic design.

Aside from that I’m a special education Art and Graphic Design teacher with two daughters, a wife and dog.

© La Mantia & Potenza 2021

[see-arcane]

Alright, I thought this wouldn’t bug me as much this time around, but I was wrong.

I love this book. For all its faults, for all the author’s faults, I love this book. So much. But the one thing that has always nettled me most in terms of the plot itself? 

This novel is two entirely different books. Seriously.

The first half is pure horror. Even if we took out the supernatural medical mystery of Lucy’s nightmare, Jonathan’s time in the castle is its own prime gothic novella. It’s mad and macabre and magnificent in the dread it instills.

Then the second half turns into a ‘slay the dragon’ chase adventure with a ‘save the maiden!’ undertone. Obviously there’s a horror element still at play—Mina is very much in danger of far worse than death, Jonathan is ready to damn himself for her, the Suitors Three and Van Helsing are sticking their necks out for the good of all, Dracula is Dracula…

Except not.

The menacing, nigh omnipotent self-made demon and manipulative mastermind Count Dracula we knew in the first half of the book no longer exists by this point.

What we have now is a cowardly cartoon villain running home rather than actually sticking around to, you know, Do Some Violence and Vengeance as Advertised. Much as I believe Stoker fully intended this as an example of conquering a monstrous threat via teamwork, foreknowledge, preparation, love, and Incredible Lawyerly Violence, it just does not gel for me. It never has. 

Because really, much as it’s fun to point and laugh at this bastard getting his ass handed to him by our heroes as he goes crying back to Transylvania in his straw hat and sad little dirt box, it does not do the villain or his impending defeat any justice. If anything, it looks like Dracula left half his brain back in Romania (and that Stoker was maybe fudging the build to the climax).

Think about it. If this guy really was a Satanic Scholomance-taught sorcerer, monster, boyar, and centuries-old genius and planner, etc, etc, along with being Vlad the Impaler, is it seriously in-character to have him just ditch at the first sign of a Cross and some holy crackers? England is covered in churches. So is Europe. So is, you know, Romania. You can’t throw a stone without hitting a holy house. And those same locals who tried to arm Jonathan against bloodsuckers with the Exact Same wards Van Helsing had to do research to gather up, were still terrified. Dracula still snatched two kids out of their homes—homes we can assume were well-armed with crucifixes and fearful folklore shields.

If all it took was a few strapping youths and a Dutch grandpa armed with Christly accoutrement and some sharp wood to take this guy out, wouldn’t he have been slain ages ago?

And yet now! Now he’s afraid! Now he runs away rather than, say, drumming up some undead soldiers outside of their heroic circle. Or calling a storm down to lightning them the second they leave their home. Or using his legion’s worth of strength to chuck a carriage at their heads. Or going full-blown medieval on his enemies and sharpening his own tall pikes to make an impaled example of them…or some poor innocent schmucks to plant outside the asylum some night as a warning. Or setting fire to the asylum. Or abusing his enemies’ good hearts and take a hostage until they shed their holy tools. Or at least doing more than taking a petty parting shot by turning Mina and using her as a (foolish) two-way spying vehicle.

Something, Vlad. Something with a little more bite to it.

As it stands, I am glad for the heroes’ sake that they have the bogeyman on the run. But for the story’s sake, and for the threat’s sake, I wish there had been more menace in play. More of a hazard to conquer than a Dracula who turns so suddenly lackluster and lazy as to retreat after one sour confrontation. Give the heroes some real stakes (ha ha) beyond ‘Oh no! Girl 2 is in peril! Oh no! Other future damsels will be in peril! But at least we have the dastardly fiend on the run!’

If it makes any sense, I wish the heroes were a little more afraid than just incensed and righteous. Jonathan is afraid, of course, but he also has the excuse of being enraged and in love enough to overpower his background of trauma and terror at Dracula’s hands. Mina is mentally locking herself down against the unthinkable, period. The others get to ride the high of knowing Van Helsing’s intel and their sacred armory have given them the advantage. They’re worried, but confident, full of adrenaline, it’s all so harrowing..!

And that’s just not horror anymore.